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yield to thee, and the Sangarian youth, and he whom the fruitless image in the fountain and barren love consumed. The Nymph of the dark-blue water would have preferred thee, and grasped thy urn and drawn thee down more boldly. Thou, boy, dost surpass them all; only he to whom I shall give thee is more beautiful.” So speaking she lifted him with her own hand through the light air, and bade him sit in the swan-drawn chariot. Straightway appeared the Latian hills^[1] and the home of ancient Evander, which Germanicus, renowned lord of the world, is adorning with new structures and making as glorious as the stars above. Then more anxious grew the goddess, what tiring of the hair best suited him, what raiment was fittest to light up his rosy countenance, what gold was worthiest of his neck or his finger. She knew the Emperor’s godlike glance: herself she had joined the torches of wedlock, and with lavish hand bestowed on him his bride. So decks she his hair, so drapes the Tyrian folds about him, and gives him her own radiant fire. The former favourites yield, and the crowds of slaves; ’tis he who bears the first goblet to our great Chief, and the crystal cups and heavy murrhine vessels in hands that are fairer than they; there is a sweeter savour in the wine.

O youth beloved of heaven, who hast been chosen to sip first the sacred nectar, and so oft to touch the mighty hand that the Getae seek to know, and the Persians and Armenians and Indians to kiss! O born under a favouring star, the gods have blest thee with much goodwill! Once, lest the first down should spoil thy radiant cheeks and the charm of thy comeliness be darkened, the god of thy land left his lofty Pergamum and crossed the sea. None else was