Idus. 15th
Come, thou famed grandson of Atlas, thou whom of old upon the Arcadian mountains one of the Pleiads bore to Jupiter. Thou arbiter of peace and war to gods above and gods below, thou who dost ply thy way on winged foot; thou who dost delight in the music of the lyre, and dost delight too in the wrestling-school, glistening with oil; thou by whose instruction the tongue learns to discourse elegantly, the senate founded for thee on the Ides a temple looking towards the Circus: since then the day has been thy festival. All who make a business of selling their wares give thee incense and beg that thou wouldst grant them gain. There is a water of Mercury near the Capene Gate: if you care to take the word of those who have tried it, there is a divinity in the water. Hither comes the merchant with his tunic girt up, and, ceremonially pure, draws water in a fumigated jar to carry it away. With the water he wets a laurel bough, and with the wet bough he sprinkles all the goods that soon are to change owners; he sprinkles, too, his own hair with the dripping laurel and recites prayers in a voice accustomed to deceive.
“Wash away the perjuries of past time,” says he, “wash away my glozing words of the past day. Whether I have called thee to witness, or have falsely invoked the great divinity of Jupiter, in the expectation that he would not hear, or whether I have knowingly taken in vain the name of any other god or goddess, let the swift south winds carry away the wicked words, and may to-morrow open the door for me to fresh perjuries, and may the gods above not care if I shall utter any! Only grant me profits, grant me the joy of profit made, and see to it that I enjoy cheating the buyer!” At such prayers Mercury laughs from on high, remembering that he himself stole the Ortygian kine
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