He used to call Aragaris cousin, not through blood relationship, but for friendship's sake. They had been taken into the Roman army from opposite ends of the world. The northern barbarian, a huge guzzler but a chaste liver, despised the voluptuous and timid Syrian who was so frugal in his eating and drinking. But while mocking him he pitied him as a child.
"Cousin!" wailed Strombix.
"Well, what is it? Can't you be quiet?"
"Are there bears in this wood?"
"Yes!" answered Aragaris sullenly.
"And suppose we met one, eh?"
"We should knock him on the head, sell his skin, and go and drink."
"And suppose the bear, instead of being killed..."
"Poltroon! it isn't difficult to see that you're a Christian!"
"Why must a Christian be a coward?" said Strombix with a vexed air.