'Hic Habit Felicitas Ah'

i cannot describe all the strange things i aw in that beautiful, foreign city set down on the native english land. Even he who lives two thousand years is still the serf of time. And having become a roman by exchanging my sheepskins for a fine scarlet toga over a military cuirass with turquoise and gold enamel sandals upon my feet, and a short sword at my side, i sought somewhere to sleep. But it would not do. Bacchus was too bibulous in that little abode, and cupid, too blind and indiscriminate. So it was left behind. And presently, an open villa was reached, where travellers