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"On a day when they were keeping holiday in heaven, 

 Flora summoned all the deities that preside over gardens, 

 and, when they were met, addressed herself to them in this 

 manner: ' You, who have always been the shining orna- 

 ments of my court, I have now called together, to consult in 

 a matter of great importance. I know I am the sovereign of 

 all the flowery kind ; but for the more firm establishment of 

 my empire, I am thinking to choose them a Queen of a spot- 

 less and unblemished reputation; but will do nothing of this 

 nature without your counsel and assistance.' To these words, 

 all the deities that were present, having first filled the court 

 with murmurs, answered in this manner: * Great goddess, 

 be pleased to reflect a little on the animosities such a choice 

 may create among the rival flowers; even the worthless 

 Thistle will pretend to deserve the crown, and if denied, will 

 perhaps grow factious, and disturb your peaceful reign.' 

 * Your fears are groundless,' replied the goddess; 'I appre- 

 hend no such consequence ; my resolution is already fixed ; 

 hear, therefore, what I have determined: In the deep re- 

 cesses of a wood, where formerly the oaks were vocal, and 

 pronounced oracles to mortals, at the- foot of a little hill is 

 a grotto, whose structure is nature's master-piece, there a 

 wood nymph passed her quiet days ; she was extremely beau- 

 tiful, and charmed all that beheld her; her looks, her mien, 

 and her behaviour had something of more than human ; and 

 indeed she was the daughter of a Dryad, and of a sylvan 

 god. Her chastity and devotion equalled her beauty, she 

 was perfectly resigned to the will of heaven, and never un- 

 dertook any thing without having first implored our assist- 

 ance; her heart was pure, and her hands undefiled. This 

 nymph is dead, and my intention is to raise a flower from 

 her precious remains, to be Queen of all the flowery race. 

 The applauding gods straight prepared for the ceremony; 

 Priapus put on a grave countenance; Vertumnus loaded him- 

 self with perfumes of an excellent scent; Pomona heaped up 



