“...And so the Father and ruler of the gods, who wields in his right hand the three-forked lightning, whose nod shakes the world, laid aside his royal majesty along with his scepter, and took upon him the form of a bull. In this form he mingled with the cattle, lowed like the rest, and wandered around, beautiful to behold, on the young grass. His color was white as the untrodden snow, which has not yet been melted by the rainy south wind. The muscles stood rounded on his neck, a long dewlap hung down in front; his horns were twisted, but perfect in shape as if carved by an artist’s hand, cleaner and more clear than pearls. His brow and eye would inspire no fear, and his whole expression was peaceful. 

“Agenor’s daughter [Europa] looked at him in wondering admiration, because he was so beautiful and so kindly. But, although he seemed so gentle, she was afraid at first to touch him. Presently she drew near, and held out flowers to his snowy-white lips. The disguised lover rejoiced and, as a foretaste of future joy, kissed her hands. Hardly any longer could he restrain his passion. And now he jumps sportively about on the grass, now lays his snowy body down on the yellow sands; and, when her fear has little by little been allayed, he yields his breast for her maiden hands to pat and his horns to intertwine with garlands of fresh flowers. The princess even dares to sit on his back, little knowing upon whom she rests. The god little by little edges away from the dry land, and sets his borrowed hoofs in the shallow water; then he goes further out and soon is in full flight with his prize on the open ocean. She trembles with fear and looks back at the receding shore, holding fast a horn with one hand and resting the other on the creature’s back. And her fluttering garments stream behind her in the wind.”