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moistened by Southern rains; were I to count all his labours, no more numerous are the messages that the winged Tegean with revealing wand bears from the stars on high, or Juno’s maid, who glides down through the liquid air and binds her pictured are about the rainy sky, or Fame, who brings thy laurels, O Germanicus, in her swift flight outstripping the day, and leaves the slow Arcadian beneath the stars and Thaumantia in mid-heaven.^[1]

How joyful, Priscilla, wert thou seen of gods and men on that auspicious day when first thy spouse was promoted to his great career! Almost did thy happiness surpass his own, while thou didst eagerly fling thyself prostrate before the sacred feet of thy lord for his great favour, and pour out all thy heart. Not such joy doth she know upon the Aonian mount whom the Delian sire hath put in charge of the openings of the mystic cave, or she to whom Bacchus hath awarded the dread privilege of the foremost wand, and to bear the banner of the frenzied rout.^[2] Yet was her tranquillity not changed, nor her goodness puffed up by prosperity; her mind keeps the same course, and her modesty abides, though her fortunes rise. Anxiously she tends her husband’s cares, and cheers and alleviates his toils. Herself she serves his modest board and sober cups, and admonishes him by the example of his chief; just as the Apulian wife of some thrifty husbandman, or sun-burnt Sabine dame, who sees by the peeping stars that her lord will soon be come, his labours o’er, briskly sets the tables and the couches, and listens for the returning plough. I speak of trivial things: nay, at thy side she had willingly braved the gelid North and Sarmatian snows and Ister and the pale