Patience and wrath fight the longest single combat in the Psychomachia, and it is the one Prudentius plainly enjoyed writing. Wrath attacks with every weapon she has. Patience stands still in armour and lets each one break. When the last spear has shattered, wrath, having nothing left to throw and no target that will respond, turns her own sword on herself. Patience walks off the field without having struck a blow.
The scene is the clearest statement anywhere in the tradition of what the virtue is held to be. Patience is not endurance in the sense of merely surviving, and it is not calm. It is a refusal to enter the exchange on the terms offered, and its whole strength consists in the fact that anger requires an answer and can be starved.
Later moral writing kept the structure and dropped the battle. The confession manuals of the thirteenth century and after treat impatience as a fault of appetite, a wanting of relief now, and treat patience as the same virtue that carries a person through illness, poverty and the slowness of other people. That widened it considerably. The Psychomachia's patience faces one enemy for one afternoon; the manuals' patience faces a life.
She has no settled attribute in art. Where she appears with an object it is usually an ox or a lamb, borrowed from patience of another kind, and the atlas draws no emblem for her.