huic se forma dei vultu redeuntis eodem obtulit in somnis rursusque ita visa monere est, omnia Mercurio similis, vocemque coloremque et crinis flavos et membra decora iuventa: nate dea, potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos, nec quae te circum stent deinde pericula cernis, demens, nec Zephyros audis spirare secundos? illa dolos dirumque nefas in pectore versat, certa mori, variosque irarum concitat aestus.
In his sleep there appeared to him a vision of the god, as he came again with the same aspect, and once more seemed to warn him thus, in all aspects like Mercury, in voice and colouring, in golden hair and the graceful limbs of youth: Goddess-born, when such hazard threatens, can you still slumber? Do you not see the perils that from henceforth hem you in, madman? Do you not hear the kindly breezes blowing? She, resolved on death, revolves in her heart fell craft and crime, and awakens the swirling surge of passion.