Impossible of course—” Gods, Curio!
“Give up the provinces”! For twenty years
I have toiled up this hill—and now at last
Stand here, proconsul of a barren land,
A swarming, seething pot of plots and lies,
Where every day brings forth a fresh revolt.
Others had rich lands in the peaceful East,
They fought with armies, I a people. Now,
After nine years these Gauls are not subdued.
I stand alone against a forest fire ...