“I was just speaking of that very thing. Our noble Cornelia is astounded at the extraordinary miracle. Exactly at the very moment, that Barbillus had foretold, I fell in a swoon, as he had said, and saw the mysterious vision. I saw the goddess floating above me in shining white. O, ye immortals! I knew of course that it was not she herself, only her image in a dream; for how should Isis, the all powerful, condescend to come down to me, a humble slave, and to speak with me--and in Greek too! Still, I could almost have sworn that it was she, I saw her so plainly--the folds of her silvery robe, and her noble and gentle face, so lovely, oh, so lovely! as beautiful as you are, noble Cornelia. No, I maintain it; I will never apply to any other priest than Barbillus, the favorite of the gods. He will reveal my whole future life to me--only think, noble Cornelia, for the ridiculously small price of two hundred sesterces--but I did not happen to have so much about me just then. Besides--what can I expect should happen to me at my time of life? My dear Quintus has his sweet Cornelia; our darling Claudia sooner or later--well, well, I meant nothing--and you, bright Lucilia--I cannot be anxious about you. You bear your own happiness in yourself. Well, so I said very humbly: ‘Oh! my lord,’ said I, ‘no future lies before me. But I will tell the fair Cornelia, betrothed to our Quintus, that you are a true prophet--our Cornelia, who is so full of melancholy fancies, and who prays so fervently and humbly to the beneficent goddess.’ Then Barbillus gave me this precious amulet.--It is only made of horn, but the power that resides in it makes it precious.” Cornelia had listened to her in silence, and her face was as pale as death. “Listen,” she began after a pause: “You are advanced in age and rich in experience, and for many a year you have had to do with the chosen servants of the goddess. What do you advise me? Last night I had a dream[247]--a mysterious dream. I was standing alone on a vast untilled plain; everything was deserted and silent. There was not a tree, not a shrub, not a herb--rotting bones and nothing else lay hideous on the ground, but far away on the horizon shone the walls and towers of a splendid town.” “That is full of meaning,” observed Baucis. “Listen to the end. As I gazed at the distant and radiant city, I felt my heart swell with fervent and unspeakable longing. I struggled breathlessly to get forwards, but my feet seemed rooted to the ground. I was seized with terror, and trembling with fear I looked upwards; there I saw Quintus, high above me, but coming across the waste like Helios in the sun-chariot, and beckoning to me lovingly. I struggled, I groaned, I screamed. In vain! I held up my hands and cried out with the fervor of anguish: ‘Isis, mother of the universe! Isis, save me!’--But the goddess was deaf. At last, after a long agony, I heard Chloe’s voice; the good soul was standing by my bed. I awoke groaning....”