Book VIII, Epigram 75 (Ker)

While late at night a Lingonian — just returning from the Covered and Flaminian Ways — was making for his hired lodging, catching his big toe, he put out his ankle, and lay upset all his length on the ground. What should the Gaul do..? how could he move? The huge master had a single tiny slave, so thin that he could barely carry the smallest lantern: chance came to the rescue of the wretched man, and brought aid. Four branded slaves were carrying a common corpse — the pauper's burying-ground receives a thousand such — these slaves the weak attendant besought in a low voice to shift the lifeless body wherever they wished. The load is changed and the cargo is lifted high and crammed in — a huge cargo in a narrow bier. This fellow seems to me, Lucanus, to be the one of many to whom can justly be said, "Oh dead Gaul."