Like, you know what Aeneas? I might get slaves to pumice my feet, uh, I might go to Vulcan’s Unitarian Temple, maybe get hit by a chariot full of hot garbage juice, you know? Cause all those things, would be exponentially cooler than going to prom with you.
I believe she had this conversation with him via hamburger phone from Dido’s palace.
(Can you tell I have an essay on The Aeneid due? It’s all about Juno’s character. I sorely wish I could enter the realm of orange striped shirted pregnant bellies and dry indie wit, but alas, it’s all about the Virgil. Damn.)