For this long and tedious ceremonial feast, she was allowed to rest on a couch, next to her husband, at the table, in the place of honor.
The meal lasted till evening, and then there ensued a movement.
The household goods of the bride, her spindle and distaff, her chest containing robes, were brought forth, and placed on biers to be conveyed to the new house.
Then Domitia rose, with tears in her eyes, and went to the several chambers she had occupied, to say farewell to the kitchen, to salute the hearth, to the shelf that served as chapel, to bid farewell to the ancestral gods, to the wax forefathers in the hall, then to kiss her mother, finally to turn, kneel and embrace the doorposts of the paternal dwelling, and kiss the threshold from which she parted.
Without, the procession waited. She was gently disengaged from her mother’s arms, and to the cries of Talasse! amidst a shower of walnuts thrown among the boys by the bridegroom, the procession started.
Domitia was attended by three lads, one went before carrying a torch, the other two walked, one on each side, carrying spindle and distaff. The torch, according to rule, was of whitethorn wood, and on arrival at the house of the bridegroom would be scrambled for and ripped to pieces by the guests, as every shred was esteemed to carry good luck.
Now rose a burst of song, the so-called Fescennian lays, some old and some new, accompanied by the flutes of musicians and the clash of castanets and cymbals of dancing girls.
The procession descended the hill to the Forum, crowds lining the way and shouting Feliciter!
At a corner there was a little clearing, for there lay a pallet, and on it a sick woman, who had been brought from her dwelling to see the sight. She extended and waved her hand, holding something as Domitia approached, and the bride through her tears noticed her, halted, went towards her, and said:—
“Glyceria! you here to wish me happiness!”