At any rate we heard he had seen Murmex Frugi still hale and sound, even at his advanced age." "My father," said Murmex, "was still hale and sound on the Kalends of May and for a day or two thereafter.

He fell ill with a cough and fever, and died after only two nights' illness, on the Nones of May, barely more than a month ago." "He lived to a green old age," said Hirnio, "and must have enjoyed every moment of his life." "He seemed to," said Murmex.
"And I conjecture," I put in, "that he was proud of his son." "He seemed so," Murmex admitted, "but he was never a tenth as proud of me as I of him." "It is an honor," I said, "to be the son of the greatest gladiator of our fathers' days, of the man esteemed the best swordsman Italy ever saw live out his term of service and live to retire on his savings." "It is," Murmex said, as simply as before.
Here we were interrupted by a yell from Tanno, as he leaned out of his litter.
"Are we going to take root here," he bawled, "like Phaethon's sisters?
We were supposed to be journeying to Rome.

We appear to be bound for Hades; we shall certainly reach it if we continue sinking into your Sabine mud!" "Martius agreed to wait for me, if I was late," I shouted back to him.

"I agreed to wait for him; I keep my word.

If you choose, we'll get out of your way and let you pass on.