Hor. C. 3.27.57-76
Horace imagines Europa quoting the frightening words of her father, Phoenix, when he learns that she has gone off with a bull:
"You are a piece of trash, Europa!" my absent father would charge. "Why don't you just die?! You can string your neck up in this ash tree with that brassiere that has naturally gone away with you! Or you might prefer to let the cliffs and sharp rocks have their way with you in death —— Come on, then, do it! Or launch out to sea into a typhoon. Perhaps, since you are of royal descent you would rather pluck, like a slave, lint from a loom, handed off like some strumpet to barbarous mistress."
In an instant, as the girl thus laments her lover's perfidy, Venus appears smiling and her son, too, with his bow pointing away. Soon, when she had smiled to her own satisfaction, Venus said, "Enough of this wrath and hot tears! That bull you despise is not going to give you his horns to cut another time. You don't realize that you have mated with the unconquered Jupiter. Quit your bellyaching. Learn to endure your good fortune well. Half the globe is going to bear your name."

"'vilis Europe,' pater urget absens,
'quid mori cessas? potes hac ab orno
pendulum zona bene te secuta e-
   lidere collum.

'sive te rupes et acuta leto
saxa delectant, age, te procellae
crede veloci; nisi erile mavis
   carpere pensum

'regius sanguis, dominaeque tradi
barbarae paelex.'" aderat querenti
perfidum ridens Venus et remisso
   filius arcu.

mox, ubi lusit satis: 'abstineto'
dixit 'irarum calidaeque rixae;
non tibi invisus laceranda reddet
   cornua taurus.

uxor invicti Iovis esse nescis.
mitte singultus, bene ferre magnam
disce fortunam; tua sectus orbis
   nomina ducet.'