“O promise me, and grant my suit; or else Deny it⁠—for thou need’st not fear⁠—and I Shall know how far below the other gods Thou holdest me in honor.” As she spake, The Cloud-compeller, sighing heavily, Answered her thus: “Hard things dost thou require, And thou wilt force me into new disputes With Juno, who will anger me again With contumelious words; forever thus, In presence of the immortals, doth she seek Cause of contention, charging that I aid The Trojans in their battles. Now depart, And let her not perceive thee. Leave the rest To be by me accomplished; and that thou Mayst be assured, behold, I give the nod; For this, with me, the immortals know, portends The highest certainty: no word of mine Which once my nod confirms can be revoked, Or prove untrue, or fail to be fulfilled.”