though he be more uncivilized than the wild Scythians and more cruel even than the beasts, but will, when he has seen near at hand thy transcendent loveliness, offer thee a ready servitude? Who will not willingly seize the chains of slavery and demand the yoke for a neck as yet free? Hadst thou o’er the heights of snowy Caucasus gone against the cruel Amazons in all thy beauty, that warrior band had fled the fight and called to mind again their proper sex; Hippolyte, amid the trumpets’ din, forgetful of her sire, had weakly laid aside her drawn battle-axe, and with half-bared breast loosed the girdle all Hercules’ strength availed not to loose. Thy beauty alone would have ended the war. Blessed is she who will soon call thee husband and unite herself to thee with the bonds of first love. II. (XII.) Come, earth, wreathed about with nuptial spring, do honour to thy master’s marriage-feast. Sing, woods and rivers all, sing, deep of ocean. Give your blessing, too, Ligurian plains and yours, Venetian hills. Let Alpine heights on a sudden clothe themselves with rose-bushes and the fields of ice grow red. Let the Adige re-echo the sound of choric lays and meandering Mincius whisper gently through his * * * * * Page 234 et Padus electriferis admoduletur alnis; 15 epulisque iam repleto resonet Quirite Thybris dominique laeta votis aurea septemgeminas Roma coronet arces. 20 procul audiant Hiberi, fluit unde semen aulae, ubi plena laurearum imperio feta domus vix numerat triumphos. 25 habet hinc patrem maritus, habet hinc puella matrem geminaque parte ductum Caesareum flumineo stemma recurrit ortu. 30 decorent virecta Bactim, Tagus intumescat auro generisque procreator sub vitreis Oceanus luxurietur antris. 35 Oriensque regna fratrum simul Occidensque plaudat; placide iocentur urbes, quaeque novo quaeque nitent deficiente Phoebo. 40 Aquiloniae procellae, rabidi tacete Cauri, taceat sonorus Auster. solus ovantem Zephyrus perdominetur annum. 45 * * * * * Page 235 reeds and Padus make answer with his amber-dripping alders. Let Tiber’s banks now ring with the voices of Rome’s full-fed citizens and the golden city, rejoicing in her lord’s marriage, crown her seven hills with flowers.