creditur Herculeis lucem renovasse lacertis femina dilecti fatis impensa mariti; et iuvenem spretae laniatum fraude novercae 440 non sine Circaeis Latonia reddidit herbis. Cretaque, si verax narratur fabula, vidit Minoum rupto puerum prodire sepulchro, quem senior vates avium clangore repertum gramine restituit: mirae nam munere sortis 445 dulcia mella necem, vitam dedit horridus anguis. at tuus adventus non unum corpus ab umbris, sed tot communi populos sub morte iacentes totaque Tartareis e faucibus oppida traxit. Ipso Roma die (nec adhuc ostenditur auctor) 450 personuit venisse ducem, laetisque Quirites vocibus auspicium certi plausere triumphi, muniti Stilichone suo. quis gaudia vero principis, amplexus alacris quis disserat aulae? pulveris ambiguam nubem speculamur ab altis 455 turribus, incerti socios adportet an hostes ille globus. mentem suspensa silentia librant, donec pulvereo sub turbine sideris instar emicuit Stilichonis apex et cognita fulsit canities. gavisa repens per moenia clamor 460 tollitur “ipse venit.” portas secura per omnes turba salutatis effunditur obvia signis. non iam dilectus miseri nec falce per agros * * * * * Page 159 woman, so the story goes, who died to save the life of a loved husband, was recalled to the upper world by the might of Hercules. Diana with the help of Circe’s magic herbs restored to life Hippolytus whom the scorned passion of a stepmother had caused to be torn in pieces. Crete, if the fable be true, saw Glaucus, son of Minos, issue living from the tomb; his body was discovered by the cries of birds to Polyidus, the aged seer, who restored him to life by means of simples; strange indeed was the ruling of fate which apportioned sweet honey as the cause of his death and a hideous serpent as the restorer of his life.[55] But thy return, Stilicho, recalled not one body from the shades but countless peoples sunk in a common death, and snatched whole towns from the jaws of Hell. That very day Rome rang with the report (though none ever knew its author) that the hero had arrived, and the citizens, assured of Stilicho’s protection, applauded this augury of certain victory. Who could tell of the Emperor’s joy, who of the courtiers’ eager greetings? From the lofty battlements we sight a distant cloud of dust and know not whether its obscurity conceals friend or foe. Suspense keeps us all in silence. Then suddenly from that dusty cloud emerged the helm of Stilicho, glittering like a star, and we recognized his gleaming white hair. Up rose the happy shout from the walls: “’Tis he.” Safe at last the crowd surges out through the gates to meet and greet the army’s return. Gone for ever are our wretched impressed levies; no longer