found to be unsuitable for marriages; for the holy wife of the Flamen Dialis spoke thus to me: “Until the calm Tiber shall have carried down to the sea on its yellow current the filth from the temple of Ilian Vesta, it is not lawful for me to comb down my hair with a toothed comb, or cut my nails with iron, or touch my husband, though he is the priest of Jupiter, and though he was given to me for life. Thou, too, be in no hurry; thy daughter will better wed when Vesta’s fire shall shine on a clean floor.”^a

²³⁵ On the third morn after the Nones it is said that Phoebe chases away (the grandson of) Lycaon, and the Bear has none behind her to fear.^b Then I remember that I saw games held on the sward of the Field of Mars, and that they were named thine, O smooth Tiber. The day is a festival for those who draw their dripping lines and hide their bronze hooks under little baits.

²⁴¹ The mind also has its divinity. We see that a sanctuary was vowed to Mind during the terror of thy war, thou treacherous Carthaginian. Thou didst renew the war, thou Carthaginian, and, thunderstruck by the consul’s death, all dreaded the Moorish bands. Fear had driven out hope, when the Senate made vows to Mind,^c and straightway she came better disposed. The day on which the vows were