Catalepton 10

Sabinus yonder, whom you see, my friends, says he was once the fastest of muleteers, and never was there any gig that raced along whose speed he was unable to pass, whether he had to race to Mantua or to Brixia. And this, says he, the noble house of his rival, Trypho, does not deny; nor the lodging-rooms of Caerulus, where he who afterwards was Sabinus, but ere that Quinctio, tells that with two-bladed shears he once clipped the hairy necks, lest, under the pressure of Cytorian yoke, the harsh mane might cause some soreness.

O cold Cremona and muddy Gaul, Sabinus says that this was and is well-known to thee: he claims that from his earliest birthtime he stood in thy mire, in thy marsh laid by his packs, and thence over so many miles of rutty roads bore the yoke, whether the mule on left or on right or on both sides began to flag . . . ; and that no vows to the gods of the by-ways were made by him save this at the last — his father's reins and the curry-comb close by.

But these things are past and gone; now he sits in his ivory chair and dedicates himself to thee, twin Castor, and to thee, Castor's twin-brother.