When she had made an end of this incantation she ordered me to spit three times, and three times to drop stones into my bosom, each stone she wrapped up in purple after she had muttered charms over it; then, directing her hands to my privates, she commenced to try out my virility. Quicker than thought the nerves responded to the summons, filling the crone's hand with an enormous erection! Skipping for joy, "Look, Chrysis, look," she cried out, "see what a hare I've started, for someone else to course!" (This done, the old lady handed me over to Chrysis, who was greatly delighted at the recovery of her mistress's treasure; she hastily conducted me straight to the latter, introducing me into a lovely nook that nature had furnished with everything which could delight the eye.)

Shorn of its top, the swaying pine here casts a

summer shade

And quivering cypress, and the stately plane

And berry-laden laurel. A brook's wimpling waters strayed

Lashed into foam, but dancing on again

And rolling pebbles in their chattering flow.

'Twas Love's own nook,

As forest nightingale and urban Procne undertook

To bear true witness; hovering, the gleaming grass above

And tender violets; wooing with song, their stolen love.