But at this sign fear the South Wind, until thou see’st the North Wind come with lightning. But if the shoulder of Centaur is as far from the western as from the eastern sea, and a faint mist veils it, while behind Night kindles like signs of storm upon the gleaming Altar, thou must not look for the South, but bethink thee of an East Wind.
The constellation of Centaur thou wilt find beneath two others. For part in human form lies beneath Scorpio, but the rest, a horse’s trunk and tail, are beneath the Claws. He ever seems to stretch his right hand towards the round Altar, but through his hand is drawn and firmly grasped another sign—the Beast, for so men of old have named it.
Another constellation trails beyond, which men call the Hydra. Like a living creature it winds afar its coiling form. Its head comes beneath the middle of the Crab, its coil beneath the body of the Lion, and its tail hangs above the Centaur himself. Midway on its coiling form is set the Crater, and at the tip the figure of a Raven that seems to peck at the coil.
There, too, by the Hydra beneath the Twins brightly shines Procyon.
All these constellations thou canst mark as the seasons pass, each returning at its appointed time: for all are unchangingly and firmly fixed in the heavens to be the ornaments of the passing night.
But of quite a different class are those five other orbs, that intermingle with them and wheel wandering on every side of the twelve figures of the Zodiac. No longer with the others as thy guide couldst thou mark where lies the path of those, since all pursue a shifty course, and long are the periods of their revolution and far distant lies the goal of their conjunction. When I come to them my daring fails, but mine be the power to tell of the orbits of the Fixed Stars and Signs in heaven.
These orbits lie like rings, four in number, chief in interest and in profit, if thou wouldst mark the measures of the waning and the waxing of the Seasons.
On all are set beacon lights, many in number, all every way closely penned together. The circles are immovable, and fitted each to other, but in size two are matched with two.
If ever on a clear night, when Night in the heavens shows to men all her stars in their brightness and no star is borne faintly gleaming at the mid-month moon, but they all sharply pierce the darkness—if in such an hour wonder rises in thy heart to mark on every side the heaven cleft by a broad belt, or if someone at thy side point out that circle set with brilliants—that is what men call the Milky Way. A match for it in colour thou wilt find no circle wheel, but in size two of the four belts are as large, but the other two are far inferior.
Of the lesser circles one is nigh to Boreas at his coming, and on it are borne both the heads of the Twins and the knees of the stedfast Charioteer, and above him are the left shoulder and shin of Perseus. It crosses Andromeda’s right arm above the elbow. Above it is set her palm, nearer the north, and southward leans her elbow. The hoofs of the Horse, the head and neck of the Bird and Ophiuchus’ bright shoulders wheel along this circle in their course. The Maiden is borne a little to the South and does not touch the Belt, but on it are the Lion and the Crab. Thereon are they both established side by side, but the circle cuts the Lion beneath breast and belly lengthwise to the loins, and the Crab it cuts clean through by the shell where thou canst see him most clearly cut, as he stands upright with his eyes on either side of the Belt.
The circle is divided, as well as may be, into eight parts, whereof five in the daytime wheel on high above the earth and three beneath the horizon. In it is the Turning-point of the Sun in summer. This circle is set round the Crab in the North.
But there is another circle to match in the South. It cuts through the middle of Aegoceros, the feet of Hydrochoüs, and the tail of the sea-monster, Cetus, and on it is the Hare. It claims no great share of the Dog, but only the space that he occupies with his feet. In it is Argo and the mighty back of the Centaur, the sting of Scorpio, and the Bow of the bright Archer. This circle the sun passes last as he is southward borne from the bright north, and here is the Turning-point of the sun in winter. Three parts of eight of his course are above and five below the horizon.
Between the Tropics a Belt, peer of the grey Milky Way, undergirds the earth and with imaginary line bisects the sphere. In it the days are equal to the nights both at the waning of the summer and the waxing of the spring. The sign appointed for it is the Ram and the knees of the Bull—the Ram being borne lengthwise through it, but of the Bull just the visible bend of the knees. In it are the Belt of the well-starred Orion and the coil of the gleaming Hydra: in it, too, the dim-lit Crater and the Crow and the scanty-starred Claws and the knees of Ophiuchus are borne.
But it has no share in the Eagle, but near it flies the mighty messenger of Zeus. Facing the Eagle wheel the head and neck of the Horse.
These three Belts are parallel, and at right angles to the Axis which they surround and which is the centre of them all, but the fourth aslant is fixed athwart the Tropics: they on opposite sides of the Equator support it at either limit, but the Equator bisects it. Not otherwise would a man skilled in the handicraft of Athena join the whirling Belts, wheeling them all around, so many and so great like rings, just as the Belts in the heavens, clasped by the transverse circle, hasten from dawn to night throughout all time. The three Belts rise and set all parallel but ever single and the same is the point where in due order each rises or sets at East or West. But the fourth circle passes over as much water of ocean as rolls between the rising of Aegoceros, and the rising of the Crab: as much as it occupies in rising, so much it occupies in setting. As long as is the ray cast to heaven from the glance of the eye, six times as long a line would subtend this Belt. Each ray, measured of equal length, intercepts two constellations. This circle is called the Belt of the Zodiac.
In it is the Crab; after the Crab the Lion and beneath him the Maiden; after the Maiden the Claws and the Scorpion himself and the Archer and Aegoceros, and after Aegoceros Hydrochoüs. Beneath him are enstarred the Two Fishes and after them the Ram and next the Bull and the Twins. In them, twelve in all, has the sun his course as he leads on the whole year, and as he fares around this belt, all the fruitful seasons have their growth.
Half this Belt is set below the hollow of the horizon, and half is above the earth. Every night six constellations of this circle’s twelve set and as many rise; as long is each night ever stretched as half the belt rises above the earth from the fall of night.
Not useless were it for one who seeks for signs of coming day to mark when each sign of the Zodiac rises. For ever with one of them the sun himself rises. One could best search out those constellations by looking on themselves, but if they be dark with clouds or rise hidden behind a hill, get thee fixed signs for their coming. Ocean himself will give thee signs at either horn—the East or the West—in the many constellations that wheel about him, when from below he sends forth each rising sign.
Not very faint are the wheeling constellations that are set about Ocean at East or West, when the Crab rises, some setting in the West and others rising in the East.
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