A Friend of Caesar - A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. by William Stearns Davis
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page 28 of 560 (05%)
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police worth mentioning; freshets every now and then; fires every day
or else a building tumbles down. And then they must wake me up at an unearthly hour in the morning. Curses on me for ever coming near the place!" And the speaker rolled over on the bed, and shook himself, preparatory to getting up. "Bah! Can these Roman dogs never learn that power is to be used, not abused? Why don't they spend some of their revenues to level these seven hills that shut off the light, and straighten and widen their abominable, ill-paved streets, and keep houses from piling up as if to storm Olympus? Pshaw, I had better stop croaking, and be up and about." The speaker sat up in bed, and clapped his hands. Into the ill-lighted and unpretentiously furnished room came a tall, bony, ebon-skinned old Ethiopian, very scantily attired, who awaited the wishes of his master. "Come, Sesostris," said the latter, "get out my best _himation_[26]--the one with the azure tint. Give me a clean _chiton_,[27] and help me dress." [26] Greek outer mantle. [27] Greek under garment. And while the servant bustled briskly about his work, Pratinas, for such was his lord's name, continued his monologue, ignoring the presence of his attendant. "Not so bad with me after all. Six years ago to-day it was I came to Rome, with barely an obol of ready money, |
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