Yet Eutropius (can a slave, an effeminate, feel shame? Could a blush grace such a countenance?), Eutropius returns in triumph. There follow companies of foot, squadrons like their general, maniples of eunuchs, an army worthy Priapus’ standards. His creatures meet him and embrace their saviour on his return.[92] Great is his self-esteem; he struggles [91] A mountain in Cappadocia. [92] Claudian is scarcely fair to Eutropius. The reference here is to the campaign of 398 in which Eutropius succeeded in driving the Huns back behind the Caucasus. * * * * * Page 158 distendisse genas fictumque inflatus anhelat, pulvere respersus tineas et solibus ora 260 pallidior, verbisque sonat plorabile quiddam ultra nequitiam fractis et proelia narrat: perque suam tremula testatur voce sororem, defecisse vagas ad publica commoda vires; cedere livori nec sustentare procellas 265 invidiae; mergique fretis spumantibus orat. exoretque utinam! dum talia fatur ineptas deterget lacrimas atque inter singula dicta flebile suspirat: qualis venit arida socrus longinquam visura nurum; vix lassa resedit 270 et iam vina petit. Quid te, turpissime, bellis inseris aut saevi pertemptas Pallada campi? tu potes alterius studiis haerere Minervae et telas, non tela pati, tu stamina nosse, tu segnes operum sollers urgere puellas 275 et niveam dominae pensis involvere lanam. vel, si sacra placent, habeas pro Marte Cybeben; rauca Celaenaeos ad tympana disce furores. cymbala ferre licet pectusque inlidere pinu inguinis et reliquum Phrygiis abscidere cultris. 280 arma relinque viris. geminam quid dividis aulam conarisque pios odiis committere fratres? te magis, ah demens, veterem si respicis artem, conciliare decet. Gestis pro talibus annum * * * * * Page 159 to swell out his pendulous cheeks and feigns a heavy panting; his lousy head dust-sprinkled and his face bleached whiter by the sun, he sobs out some pitiful complaint with voice more effeminate than effeminacy’s self and tells of battles. In tremulous tones he calls his sister to witness that he has spent his strength for his country’s need; that he yields to envy and cannot stand up against the storms of jealousy and prays to be drowned in the foaming seas. Would God his prayer had been granted! Thus speaking, he wipes away the silly tears, sighing and sobbing between each word; like a withered old dame travelled far to visit her son’s daughter--scarce seated aweary and already she asks for wine.