Well, of course. They are but mortals; the sight of Zeus is too much for them.

Then why are Branchus and Hyacinth so fond of Apollo?

Daphne ran away from him, anyhow; in spite of his beautiful hair and his smooth chin. Now, shall I tell you the way to win hearts? Keep that aegis of yours quiet, and leave the thunderbolt at home; make yourself as smart as you can; curl your hair and tie it up with a bit of ribbon, get a purple cloak, and gold-bespangled shoes, and march forth to the music of flute and drum;—and see if you don’t get a finer following than Dionysus, for all his Maenads.

Pooh! I'll win no hearts on such terms.

Oh, in that case, don’t fall in love. Nothing could be simpler.

I dare say; but I like being in love, only I don’t like all this fuss. Now mind; if I let you off, it is on this understanding.