Augustus Caesar, O ye people, who was lately said, like another
Hercules, to have sought for the laurel to be purchased only by death,
revisits his domestic gods, victorious from the Spanish shore. Let the
matron (_Livia_), to whom her husband alone is dear, come forth in
public procession, having first performed her duty to the just gods; and
(_Octavia_), the sister of our glorious general; the mothers also of the
maidens and of the youths just preserved from danger, becomingly adorned
with supplicatory fillets. Ye, O young men, and young women lately
married, abstain from ill-omened words. This day, to me a real festival,
shall expel gloomy cares: I will neither dread commotions, nor violent
death, while Caesar is in possession of the earth. Go, slave, and seek
for perfume and chaplets, and a cask that remembers the Marsian war, if
any vessel could elude the vagabond Spartacus. And bid the tuneful
Neaera make haste to collect into a knot her auburn hair; _but_ if any
delay should happen from the surly porter, come away. Hoary hair
mollifies minds that are fond of strife and petulant wrangling. I would
not have endured this treatment, warm with youth in the consulship of
Plancus.
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