Gabii

During the reign of Tullius, a temple in honor of Diana was erected on the Aventine, to be used by all the Latin towns.

Tarquinius Superbus added to the Ager Romanus the territory of the city of Gabii, and planted two military colonies, which were afterwards lost.

The dynasty of the Tarquins ended with the overthrow of this king, and a republic was established, which lasted until the death of Julius Caesar.

Chapter 6.

Yeah.

He next got tangled up with a nearby town of Gabii.

However, that will have to wait for next episode.

You ready for the next one?

Quindi non è turismo sì, turismo no, ma è contrastare un overtourism e l'eccesso di concentrazione, soprattutto in alcune zone.

Per questo noi lavoriamo molto per promuovere Gabii, per promuovere diciamo altri luoghi di attrazione, oltre ai soliti highlight del centro.

Stiamo aumentando l'offerta di musei per evitare che tutto si concentri in due o tre luoghi e al tempo stesso però appunto avere, eh, un modello in cui è un visitatore, non è il turista, è una persona che torna per un concerto perché c'è un evento culturale, un giovane che magari viene qui a studiare.

Cioè è un modello più, eh, come tante altre metropoli, eh, europee internazionali, che non è la classica città turistica, ma è la città diciamo vitale, eh, costantemente meta di persone che vanno, vengono, che, che, che, che produce cose interessanti da fare e aggiunge a questo naturalmente il suo patrimonio storico artistico unico.

One of these, Lucius Tatorrius, who had been rather frequently in the same camp and whom certain of the enemy seemed to recognize, Laelius caned as a slave, in order to conceal the man's rank.

Tarquin the Proud, having decided that the leading citizens of Gabii should be put to death, and not wishing to confide this purpose to anyone, gave no response to the messenger sent to him by his son, but merely cut off the tallest poppy-heads with his cane as he happened to walk about in the garden.

The messenger, returning without an answer, reported to the young Tarquin what he had seen his father doing.

The son thereupon understood that the same thing was to be done to the prominent citizens of Gabii.

Gaius Caesar, distrusting the loyalty of the Egyptians, and wishing to give the appearance of indifference, indulged in riotous banqueting while devoting himself to an inspection of the city and its defences, pretending to be captivated by the charm of the place and to be succumbing to the custom and life of the Egyptians.

Having made ready his reserves while he thus dissembled, he seized Egypt.

Marcus Marcellus, having tempted a certain Sosistratus of Syracuse to turn traitor, learned from him that the guards would be less strict on a holiday when a certain citizen named Epichrades was to make a generous distribution of wine and food.

So taking advantage of the gaiety and the consequent laxness of discipline, he scaled the walls, slew the sentinels, and threw open to the Roman army a city already made famous as the scene of noted victories.

Say, what do you think that fellow there to be? He has brought with him any character you please, grammarian, orator, geometrician, painter, trainer, or rope-dancer, augur, doctor, or astrologer.

all sciences a fasting monsieur knows and bid him go to hell to hell he goes in fine the man who took to himself wings was not a moor nor a sarmatian nor a thracian but one born in the very heart of athens must i not make my escape from purple-clad gentry like these is a man to sign his name before me and recline upon a couch above mine who has been wafted to rome by the wind which brings us our damsons and our figs is it to go so utterly for nothing that as a babe i drank in the air of the aventine and was nurtured on the sabine berry what of this again that these people are experts in flattery and will commend the talk of an illiterate or the beauty of a deformed friend and compare the scraggy neck of some weakling to the brawny throat of hercules when holding up anteus from the earth or go into ecstasies over a squeaky voice not more melodious than that of a cock when he pecks his spouse the hen we no doubt can praise the same things that they do but what they say is believed could any actor do better when he plays the part of thais or of a matron or of the nude doris you would never think that it was an actor that was speaking but a very woman complete in all her parts yet in their own country neither antiochus nor stratocles neither demetrius nor the delicate hymas will be applauded they are a nation of play-actors if you smile your greek will split his sides with laughter if he sees his friend drop a tear he weeps though without grieving if you call for a bit of fire in winter time he puts on his cloak if you say i am hot he breaks into a sweat thus we are not upon a level he and i he has always the best of it being ready at any moment by night or by day to take his expression from another man's face to throw up his hands and applaud if his friend spit or hiccup nicely or if his golden basin make a gurgle when turned upside down besides all this there is nothing sacred to his lusts not the matron of the family nor the maiden daughter not the as yet unbearded son-in-law to be not even the as yet unpolluted son if none of these be there he will debauch the grandmother these men want to discover the secrets of the family and so make themselves feared and now that i am speaking of the greeks pass on to the schools and hear of a graver crime the stoic who informed against and slew his own young friend and disciple was born on that river-bank where the gorgon's winged steed fell to earth no there is no room for any roman here where some protogenes or diphyllus or haemarchus rules the roast one who by a defect of his race never shares a friend but keeps him all to himself for when once he has dropped into a facile ear one particle of his own and his country's poison i am thrust from the door and all my long years of servitude go for nothing nowhere is it so easy as at rome to throw an old client overboard and besides not to flatter ourselves what value is there in a poor man's serving here in rome even if he be at pains to hurry along in his toga before daylight seeing that the priter is bidding the lictor to go full speed lest his colleague should be the first to salute the childless ladies albina and modia who have long ago been awake here in rome the son of freeborn parents has to give the wall to some rich man's slave for that other will give as much as the whole pay of a legionary tribune to enjoy the chance favors of a calvina or a catiana while you when the face of some gay decked harlot takes your fancy scarce venture to hand her down from her lofty chair at rome you may produce a witness as unimpeachable as the host of the idaean goddess numa himself might present himself or he who rescued the trembling minerva from the blazing shrine the first question asked will be as to his wealth the last about his character how many slaves does he keep how many acres does he own how big and how many are his dinner dishes a man's word is believed in exact proportion to the amount of cash which he keeps in his strong-box though he swear by all the altars of samothrace or of rome the poor man is believed to care naught for gods and thunderbolts the gods themselves forgiving him and what of this that the poor man gives food and occasion for jest if his cloak be torn and dirty if his toga be a little soiled if one of his shoes gapes where the leather is split or if some fresh stitches of coarse thread reveal where not one but many a rent has been patched of all the woes of luckless poverty none is harder to endure than this that it exposes men to ridicule out you go for very shame says the marshal out of the knights stalls all of you whose means do not satisfy the law here let the sons of panders born in any brothel take their seats here let the spruce son of an auctioneer clap his hands with the smart sons of a gladiator on one side of him and the young gentleman of a trainer on the other such was the will of the numskull otho who assigned to each of us his place whoever was approved as a son-in-law if he was short of cash and no match for the money-bags of the young lady what poor man ever gets a legacy or is appointed assessor to an adeel romans without money should have marched out in a body long ago it is no easy matter anywhere for a man to rise when poverty stands in the way of his merits but nowhere is the effort harder than in rome where you must pay a big rent for a wretched lodging a big sum to fill the bellies of your slaves and buy a frugal dinner for yourself you are ashamed to dine off delf but you would see no shame in it if transported suddenly to a marcian or sabine table where you would be pleased enough to wear a cape of coarse venetian blue there are many parts of italy to tell the truth in which no man puts on a toga until he is dead even on days of festival when a brave show is made in a theatre of turf and when the well-known farce steps once more upon the boards when the rustic babe on its mother's breast shrinks back affrighted at the gaping of the pallid masks you will see stalls and populace all dressed alike and the worshipful adiles content with white tunics as vesture for their high office in rome every one dresses above his means and sometimes something more than what is enough is taken out of another man's pocket this failing is universal here we all live in a state of pretentious poverty to put it shortly nothing can be had in rome for nothing how much does it cost you to be able now and then to make your bow to cossus or to be vouchsafed one glance with lip firmly closed from vellento one of these great men is cutting off his beard another is dedicating the locks of a favorite the house is full of cakes which you will have to pay for take your cake and let this thought rankle in your heart we clients are compelled to pay tribute and add to a shaved menial's perquisities who at cool praenesta or at volsinii amid its leafy hills was ever afraid of his house tumbling down who in modest gabii or on the sloping heights of tivoli but here we inhabit a city propped up for the most part by slender flute-players for that is how the bailiff patches up the cracks in the old wall bidding the inmates sleep at ease under a roof ready to tumble about their ears no no i must live where there are no fires no nightly alarms ucalagon below is already shouting for water and shifting his chattels smoke is pouring out of your third-floor attic above but you know nothing of it for if the alarm begins in the ground-floor the last man to burn will be he who has nothing to shelter him from the rain but the tiles where the gentle doves lay their eggs codrus possessed a bed too small for the dwarf procula a marble slab adorned by six pipkins with a small drinking-cup and a recumbent chiron below and an old chest containing greek books whose divine lays were being gnawed by unlettered mice poor codrus had nothing it is true but he lost that nothing which was his all and the last straw in his heap of misery is this that though he is destitute and begging for a bite no one will help him with a meal no one offer him board or shelter but if the grand house of asturicus be destroyed the matrons go dishevelled your great men put on mourning the prtor adjourns his court then indeed do we deplore the calamities of the city and bewail its fires before the house has ceased to burn up comes one with a gift of marble or of building materials another offers nude and glistening statues a third some notable work of euphranor or polyclitus or bronzes that had been the glory of old asian shrines others will offer books and bookcases or a bust of minerva or a hundredweight of silver plate thus does persicus that most sumptuous of childless men replace what he has lost with more and better things and with good reason incurs the suspicion of having set his own house on fire if you can tear yourself away from the games of the circus you can buy an excellent house at sora at fabrateria or furcino for what you now pay in rome to rent a dark garret for one year and you will there have a little garden with a shallow well from which you can easily draw water without need of a rope to bedew your weekly plants there make your abode mattock in hand tending a trim garden fit to feast a hundred pythagoreans it is something in whatever spot however remote to have become the possessor of a single lizard most sick people here in rome perish for want of sleep the illness itself having been produced by food lying undigested on a fevered stomach for what sleep is possible in a lodging who but the wealthy get sleep in rome there lies the root of the disorder the crossing of wagons in the narrow winding streets the slanging of drovers when brought to a stand would make sleep impossible for a drusus or a sea-calf when the rich man has a call of social duty the mob makes way for him as he is borne swiftly over their heads in a huge libernian car he writes or reads or sleeps as he goes along for the closed window of the litter induces slumber yet he will arrive before us hurry as we may we are blocked by a surging crowd in front and by a dense mass of people pressing in on us from behind one man digs an elbow into me another a sedan pole one bangs a beam another a wine cask against my head my legs are beplastered with mud huge feet trample on me from every side and a soldier plants his hobnails firmly on my toe see now the smoke rising from that crowd which hurries for the daily dole there are a hundred guests each followed by a kitchener of his own corbulo himself could scarce bear the weight of all the big vessels and other gear which that poor little slave is carrying with head erect fanning the flame as he runs along newly patched tunics are torn in two up comes a huge log swaying on a wagon and then a second dray carrying a whole pine-tree towering aloft and threatening the people for if that axle with its load of ligurian marble breaks down and pours its spilt contents on to the crowd what is left of their bodies who can identify the limbs who the bones the poor man's crushed corpse disappears just like his soul at home meanwhile the folk unwitting are washing the dishes blowing up the fire with distended cheek clattering over the greasy flesh scrapers filling the oil flasks and laying out the towels and while each of them is thus busy over his own task their master is already sitting a new arrival upon the bank and shuddering at the grim ferryman he has no copper in his mouth to tender for his fare and no hope of a passage over the murky flood and now regard the different and divers perils of the night see what a height it is to that towering roof from which a potsherd comes crack upon my head every time that some broken or leaky vessel is pitched out of the window see with what a smash it strikes and dints the pavement there's death in every open window as you pass along at night you may well be deemed a fool improvident of sudden accident if you go out to dinner without having made your will you can but hope and put up a piteous prayer in your heart that they may be content to pour down on you the contents of their slop pails your drunken bully who has by chance not slain his man passes a night of torture like that of achilles when he bemoaned his friend lying now upon his face and now upon his back he will get no rest in any other way since some men can only sleep after a brawl yet however reckless the fellow may be however hot with wine and young blood he gives a wide berth to one whose scarlet cloak and long retinue of attendants with torches and brass lamps in their hands bid him keep his distance but to me who am wont to be escorted home by the moon or by the scant light of a candle whose wick i husband with due care he pays no respect hear how the wretched fray begins if fray it can be called when you do all the thrashing and i get all the blows the fellow stands up against me and bids me halt obey i must what else can you do when attacked by a madman stronger than yourself where are you from shouts he whose swipes whose beans have blown you out with what cobbler have you been munching cut leeks and boiled sheep's head what sirrah no answer speak out or take that upon your shins where is your stand in what prayer-shop shall i find you whether you venture to say anything or make off silently it's all one he will thrash you just the same and then in a rage take bail from you such is the liberty of the poor man having been pounded and cuffed into a jelly he begs and prays to be allowed to return home with a few teeth in his head nor are these your only terrors when your house is shut when bar and chain have made fast your shop and all is silent you will be robbed by a burglar or perhaps a cut-throat will do for you quickly with cold steel for whenever the pontine marshes and the galinarian forest are secured by an armed guard all that tribe flocks into rome as into a fish preserve what furnaces what anvils are not groaning with the forging of chains that is how our iron is mostly used and you may well fear that ere long none will be left for plowshares none for hoes and mattocks happy were the forebears of our great grandfathers happy the days of old which under kings and tribunes beheld rome satisfied with a single gaol to these i might add more and different reasons but my cattle call the sun is sloping and i must away my muleteer has long been signalling to me with his whip and so farewell forget me not and if ever you run over from rome to your own aquinum to recruit summon me too from cum to your helvine ceres and diana i will come over to your cold country in my thick boots to hear your satires if they think me worthy of that honour End of Satire 3

satires by juvenal translated by g g ramsay satire four a tale of turbot crispness once again a man whom i shall often have to call on to the scene a prodigy of wickedness without one redeeming virtue a sickly libertine strung only in his lusts which scorn none save the unwedded what matters it then how spacious are the colonnades which tire out his horses how large the shady groves in which he drives how many acres near a forum how many palaces he has bought no bad man can be happy least of all the incestuous seducer with whom lately lay a filleted priestess doomed to pass beneath the earth with the blood still warm within her veins Today I shall tell of a less heinous deed.

Though had any other man done the like, he would fall under the censer's lash.

tyrant when there is so much rope to be had so many dizzy heights of windows standing open and when the aemilian bridge offers itself to hand or if none of all these modes of exit hit your fancy how much better to take some boy bedfellow who would never wrangle with you o nights

never

ask presents of you when in bed and never complain that you took your ease and were indifferent to his solicitations but ursidius approves of the julian law he purposes to bring up a dear little heir though he will thereby have to do without the fine turtles the bearded mullets and all the legacy hunting delicacies of the meat market what can you think impossible if ursidius takes to himself a wife if he who has long been the most notorious of gallants who has so often found safety in the corn bin of the luckless latinus puts his head into the connubial noose and what think you of his searching for a wife of the good old virtuous sort ah doctors lance his over-blooded veins a pretty fellow you why if you have the good luck to find a modest spouse you should prostrate yourself before the tarpeian threshold and sacrifice a heifer with gilded horns to juno so few are the wives worthy to handle the fillets of ceres from whose kisses their own father would not shrink weave a garland for thy doorposts and set up wreaths of ivy over thy lintel but will iberina be satisfied with one man sooner compel her to be satisfied with one eye you tell me of the high repute of some maiden who lives on her paternal farm well let her live at gabii at fidenae as she lived in her own country and i will believe in your paternal farm but will any one tell me that nothing ever took place on a mountain side or in a cave have jupiter and mars become so can our arcades show you one woman worthy of your vows do all the tears in all our theatres hold one whom you may love without misgiving and pick out thence when the soft bacillus dances the part of the gesticulating leader tokia cannot contain herself your apulian maiden heaps a sudden and longing cry of ecstasy as though she were in a man's arms the rustic timili is all attention it is then that she learns her lesson others again when all the stage draperies have been put away when the theatres are closed and all is silent save in the courts and the megalisian games are far off from the plebeian ease their dulness by taking to the masque the thyrsus and the types of accius urbicus in an atellan interlude raises a laugh by the gestures of autunnoe the penniless ilia is in love with him other women pay great prices for the favours of a comedian some will not allow chrysogonus to sing hispulla has a fancy for tragedians but do you suppose that any one will be found to love quintilian if you marry a wife it will be that the lyrist echion or glaphyrus or the flute-player ambrosius may become a father Pen up with a long dais in the narrow street, Adorn your doors and doorposts with wreaths of laurel, That your high-born son, O Lentulus, May exhibit in his tortoise-shell cradle The lineaments of Euryalus, or of a Murmillo.

when epia the senator's wife ran off with a gladiator to pharos and the nile and the ill-famed city of lagos canopus itself cried shame upon the monstrous morals of our town forgetful of home of husband and of sister without thought of her country she shamelessly abandoned her weeping children and more marvellous still deserted paris and the games though born in wealth though as a babe she had slept in a bedizened cradle on the paternal down she made light of the sea just as she had long made light of her good name a loss but little accounted of among our soft litter riding dames and so with stout heart she endured the tossing and the roaring of the tyrrhenian and ionian seas and all the many seas she had to cross for when danger comes in a right and honourable way a woman's heart grows chill with fear she cannot stand upon her trembling feet but if she be doing a bold bad thing her courage fails not for a husband to order his wife on board ship is cruelty the bilge-water then sickens her the heavens go round and round but if she is running away with a lover she feels no qualms then she vomits over her husband now she messes with the sailors she roams about the deck and delights in hauling at the hard ropes and what were the youthful charms which captivated epea what did she see in him to allow herself to be called a she gladiator her dear sergius had already begun to shave a wounded arm gave promise of a discharge and there were sundry deformities in his face a scar caused by the helmet a huge wen upon his nose a nasty humour always trickling from his eye but then he was a gladiator it is this that transforms these fellows into hyacinths it was this that she preferred to children and to country to sister and to husband what these women love is the sword had this same sergius received his discharge he would have been no better than a do the concerns of a private household and the doings of epea affect you then look at those who rival the gods and hear what claudius endured as soon as his wife perceived that her husband was asleep this august harlot was shameless enough to prefer a common mat to the imperial couch assuming a night-cowl and attended by a single maid she issued forth then having concealed her raven locks under a light-coloured peruke she took her place in a brothel reeking with long-used coverlets entering an empty cell reserved for herself she there took her stand and the feigned name of lyciska her nipples bare and gilded and exposed to view the womb that bore thee o nobly born britannicus here she graciously received all comers asking from each his fee and when at length the keeper dismissed the rest she remained to the very last before closing her cell and with passion still raging hot within her went then exhausted but unsatisfied with soiled cheeks and begrimed with the smoke of lamps she took back to the imperial pillow all the odours of the stew why tell of love potions and incantations of poisons brewed and administered to step-sons or of the grosser crimes to which women are driven by the imperious power of sex their sins of lust are the least of all their sins but tell me why is quinsenia on her husband's testimony the best of wives she brought him a million sesterces that is the price at which he calls her chaste he has not pined under the darts of venus he was never burnt by her torch it was the dowry that lighted his fires the dowry that shot those arrows that dowry bought liberty for her she may make what signals and write what love-letter she pleases before her husband's face the rich woman who marries a money-loving husband is as good as unmarried why does sartorius burn with love for if you shake out the truth it is the face that he loves not the woman let three wrinkles make their appearance let her skin become dry and flabby let her teeth turn black and her eyes lose their lustre then will his freedman give her the order pack up your traps and be off you've become a nuisance you'll forever blow in your nose be off and quick about it there's another wife coming who will not sniffle but till that day comes the lady rules the roast asking her husband for shepherds and canoesian sheep and elms for her falernian vines but that's a mere nothing she asks for all his slave-boys in town and country everything that her neighbour possesses and that she does not possess must be bought then in the winter time when the merchant jason is shut out from view and his armed sailors are blocked out by the white booths she will carry off huge crystal vases vases bigger still of agate and finally precious by the finger of berenice it was given as a present long ago by the barbarian agrippa to his incestuous sister in that country where kings celebrate festal sabbaths with bare feet and where a long-established clemency suffers pigs to attain old age do you say no worthy wife is to be found among all these crowds well let her be handsome charming rich and fertile let her have ancient ancestors ranged about her halls let her be more chaste than the dishevelled sabine maidens who stopped the war a prodigy as rare upon the earth as a black swan yet who could endure a wife that possessed all perfections i would rather have a venusian wench for my wife than you o cornelia mother of the gracchi if with all your virtues you bring me a haughty brow and reckon up triumphs as part of your marriage portion away with your hannibal i beseech you away with syphax overpowered in his camp take yourself off carthage and all be merciful i pray o apollo and thou o cordes lay down thine arrows these babes have done naught shoot down their mother thus prayed amphion but apollo bends his bow and niobe led forth to the grave her troop of sons and their father to boot because she deemed herself of nobler race than latona and more prolific than the white sow of alba for is any dignity in a wife any beauty worth the cost if she is for ever reckoning up her merits against you these high and transcendent qualities lose all their charm when spoilt by a pride that savours more of aloes than of honey and who was ever so enamoured as not to shrink from the woman whom he praises to the skies and to hate her for seven hours out of every twelve some small faults are intolerable to husbands what can be more offensive than this that no woman believes in her own beauty unless she has converted herself from a tuscan into a greekling or from a maid of sulmo into a maid of athens they talk nothing but greek though it is a greater shame for our people to be ignorant of latin their fears and their wrath their joys and their troubles all the secrets of their souls are poured forth in greek their very loves are carried on in greek fashion all this might be pardoned in a girl but will you who are hard on your eighty-sixth year still talk in greek that tongue is not decent in an old woman's mouth when you come out with the wanton words you are using in public the language of the bedchamber caressing and naughty words like these incite to love but though you say them more tenderly than a hymus or a carpophorus they will cause no fluttering of the heart your years are counted up upon your face if you are not to love the woman betrothed and united to you in due form what reason have you for marrying Why waste the supper and the wedding cakes to be given to the well-filled guests when the company is slipping away, to say nothing of the first night's gift of a salver rich with glittering gold, inscribed with Dacian or Germanic victories? If you are honestly uxorious and devoted to one woman, then bow your head and submit your neck to the yoke.

During the reign of Tullius a temple in honor of Diana was erected on the Aventine to be used by all the Latin towns.

Tarquinius Superbus added to the Ager Romanus the territory of the city of Gabii, and planted two military colonies, which were afterwards lost.

The dynasty of the Tarquins ended with the overthrow of this king, and a republic was established, which lasted until the death of Julius Caesar.

Chapter 6.

We clients are compelled to pay tribute and add to a shaved menial's perquisites.

Who at cool Praeneste or at Volsiniae amid its leafy hills was ever afraid of his house tumbling down? Who in modest Gabii or on the sloping heights of Tivoli? But here we inhabit a city propped up for the most part by slender flute-players; for that is how the bailiff patches up the cracks in the old wall, bidding the inmates sleep at ease under a roof ready to tumble about their ears.

No, no, I must live where there are no fires, no nightly alarms.

Ucalegon below is already shouting for water and shifting his chattels; smoke is pouring out of your third-floor attic above, but you know nothing of it.

But will Liberina be satisfied with one man? Sooner compel her to be satisfied with one eye.

You tell me of the high repute of some maiden who lives on her paternal farm.

Well, let her live at Gabii, at Fidenæ, as she lived in her own country, and I will believe in your paternal farm.

But will anyone tell me that nothing ever took place on a mountainside or in a cave? Have Jupiter and Mars become so senile? Hm.

One of these, Lucius Datorius, who had been rather frequently in the same camp and whom certain of the enemy seemed to recognize, Laelius caned as a slave, in order to conceal the man's rank.

Tarquin the Proud, having decided that the leading citizens of Gabii should be put to death and not wishing to confide this purpose to anyone, gave no response to the messenger sent to him by his son, but merely cut off the tallest poppy heads with his cane as he happened to walk about in the garden.

The messenger, returning without an answer, reported to the young Tarquin what he had seen his father doing.

The son thereupon understood that the same thing was to be done to the prominent citizens of Gabii.

Gaius Caesar, distrusting the loyalty of the Egyptians, and wishing to give the appearance of indifference, indulged in riotous banqueting while devoting himself to an inspection of the city and its defenses, pretending to be captivated by the charm of the place and to be succumbing to the custom and life of the Egyptians.

Having made ready his reserves while he thus dissembled, he seized Egypt.

Marcus Marcellus, having tempted a certain Sosistratus of Syracuse to turn traitor, learned from him that the guards would be less strict on a holiday when a certain citizen named Epichides was to make a generous distribution of wine and food.

So, taking advantage of the gaiety and the consequent laxness of discipline, he scaled the walls, slew the sentinels, and threw open to the Roman army a city already made famous as the scene of noted victories.

Take your cake, and let this thought rankle in your heart: we clients are compelled to pay tribute and add to a shaved menial’s perquisites.

Who at cool Praeneste or at Volsinii amid its leafy hills was ever afraid of his house tumbling down? Who in modest Gabii or on the sloping heights of Tivoli? But here we inhabit a city propped up for the most part by slender flute-players; for that is how the bailiff patches up the cracks in the old wall, bidding the inmates sleep at ease under a roof ready to tumble about their ears.

No, no; I must live where there are no fires, no nightly alarms.

Ucalegon below is already shouting for water and shifting his chattels; smoke is pouring out of your third-floor attic above, but you know nothing of it.

But will Liberina be satisfied with one man? Sooner compel her to be satisfied with one eye.

You tell me of the high repute of some maiden who lives on her paternal farm.

Well, let her live at Gabii, at Fidenæ, as she lived in her own country, and I will believe in your paternal farm.

But will anyone tell me that nothing ever took place on a mountainside or in a cave? Have Jupiter and Mars become so senile? Mm.