Next I asked, “Why, Janus, while I propitiate other divinities, do I bring incense and wine first of all to thee?” Quoth he, “It is that through me, who guard the thresholds, you may have access to whatever gods you please.” “But why are glad words spoken on thy Calends? and why do we give and receive good wishes?” Then, leaning on the staff he bore in his right hand, the god replied; “Omens are wont,” said he, “to wait upon beginnings. At the first word ye prick up anxious ears; from the first bird he sees the augur takes his cue. (On the first day) the temples and ears of the gods are open, the tongue utters no fruitless prayers, and words have weight.” So Janus ended. I kept not silence long, but caught up his last words with my own: “What mean the gifts of dates and wrinkled figs,” I said, “and honey glistering in snow-white jar?” “It is for the sake of the omen,” said he, “that the event may answer to the flavour, and that the whole course of the year may be sweet, like its beginning.” “I see,” said I, “why sweets are given. But tell me, too, the reason for the gift of cash, that I may be sure of every point in thy festival.” The god laughed, and “Oh,” quoth he, “how little you know about the age you live in if you fancy that honey is sweeter than cash in hand! Why, even in Saturn’s reign I hardly saw a soul who did not in his heart find lucre sweet. As time went on the love of pelf grew, till now it is at its height and scarcely can go farther. Wealth is more valued now than in the years of old, when the people were poor, when Rome was new, when a small hut sufficed to lodge Quirinus, son of Mars, and the river sedge supplied a scanty bedding.
Jupiter had hardly room to stand upright in his cramped shrine, and in his right hand was a thunderbolt of clay. They decked with leaves the Capitol, which now they deck with gems, and the senator himself fed his own sheep. It was no shame to take one’s peaceful rest on straw and to pillow the head on hay. The praetor put aside the plough to judge the people, and to own a light piece of silver plate was a crime. But ever since the Fortune of this place has raised her head on high, and Rome with her crest has touched the topmost gods, riches have grown and with them the frantic lust of wealth, and they who have the most possessions still crave for more. They strive to gain that they may waste, and then to repair their wasted fortunes, and thus they feed their vices by ringing the changes on them. So he whose belly swells with dropsy, the more he drinks, the thirstier he grows. Nowadays nothing but money counts: fortune brings honours, friendships; the poor man everywhere lies low. And still you ask me. What’s the use of omens drawn from cash, and why do ancient coppers tickle your palms! In the olden time the gifts were coppers, but now gold gives a better omen, and the old-fashioned coin has been vanquished and made way for the new. We, too, are tickled by golden temples, though we approve of the ancient ones: such majesty befits a god. We praise the past, but use the present years; yet are both customs worthy to be kept.” He closed his admonitions; but again in calm speech, as before, I addressed the god who bears the key: “I have learned much indeed; but why is the figure of a ship stamped on one side of the copper coin, and a two-headed figure on the other?”
“Under the double image,” said he, “you might have recognized myself, if the long lapse of time had not worn the type away. Now for the reason of the ship. In a ship the sickle-bearing god came to the Tuscan river after wandering over the world. I remember how Saturn was received in this land: he had been driven by Jupiter from the celestial realms. From that time the folk long retained the name of Saturnian, and the country, too, was called Latium from the hiding (latente) of the god. But a pious posterity inscribed a ship on the copper money to commemorate the coming of the stranger god. Myself inhabited the ground whose left side is lapped by sandy Tiber’s glassy wave. Here, where now is Rome, green forest stood unfelled, and all this mighty region was but a pasture for a few kine. My castle was the hill which common folk call by my name, and which this present age doth dub Janiculum. I reigned in days when earth could bear with gods, and divinities moved freely in the abodes of men. The sin of mortals had not yet put Justice to flight (she was the last of the celestials to forsake the earth): honour’s self, not fear, ruled the people without appeal to force: toil there was none to expound the right to righteous men. I had naught to do with war: guardian was I of peace and doorways, and these,” quoth he, showing the key, “these be the arms I bear.” The god now closed his lips. Then I thus opened mine, using my voice to lure the voice divine. “Since there are so many archways, why dost thou stand thus consecrated in one alone, here where thou hast a temple adjoining two forums?” Stroking with his hand the beard that fell upon his breast, he straightway told the warlike deeds of Oebalian Tatius, and how the traitress keeper, bribed by armlets, led the silent Sabines the way to the summit of the citadel.
“From there,” quoth he, “a steep slope, the same by which even now ye descend, led down into the valleys and the forums. And now the foe had reached the gate from which Saturn’s envious daughter had removed the opposing bars. Fearing to engage in fight with so redoubtable a deity, I slyly had recourse to a device of my own craft, and by the power I wield I opened the fountains’ mouths and spouted out a sudden gush of water; but first I threw sulphur into the water channels, that the boiling liquid might bar the way against Tatius. This service done, and the Sabines repulsed, the place, now rendered safe, resumed its former aspect. An altar was set up for me, joined to a little shrine: in its flames it burns the sacrificial spelt and cake.” “But why hide in time of peace and open thy gates when men take arms?” Without delay he rendered me the reason that I sought. “My gate, unbarred, stands open wide, that when the people hath gone forth to war, the road for their return may be open too. I bar the doors in time of peace, lest peace depart, and under Caesar’s star I shall be long shut up.” He spoke, and lifting up his eyes that saw in opposite directions, he surveyed all that the whole world held. Peace reigned, and on the Rhine already, Germanicus, thy triumph had been won, when the river yielded up her waters to be thy slaves. O Janus, let the peace and the ministers of peace endure for aye, and grant that its author may never forgo his handiwork.
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