A diadem of pierced gold crowns my white and narrow forehead. Five golden chainlets, hung from cheek to cheek, swing from my hair by two large golden hasps.
Upon my arms, which Iris 130 herself would envy, thirteen silver bracelets rise in tiers. How heavy they are! But these are weapons; I know an enemy who has felt their weight.
I am truly clothed in gold. My breasts are cased beneath two golden plates. The statues of the gods are not all as rich as I am.
And I wear about my heavy robe, a girdle worked with silver. You can read these verses on it: "Love me always; but do not be unhappy if I should deceive you thrice a day."