Though innocent you shall atone for the crimes of your fathers, Roman, until you have restored the temples and crumbling shrines of the Gods and their statues grimy with smoke. Acknowledge the rule of the Gods-and rule: hence all things begin, to this ascribe the outcome. Contemned, the Gods have visited many evils on grieving Hesperia. Already twice Monaeses and Pacorus' band have crushed our ill-starred offensive and preen themselves on having added Roman spoiles to their paltry gauds. Our city is busied with sedition has almost suffered destruction by Egypt allied to Dacia, the former renowned for her fleet, the latter rather for hurtling arrows. Teeming with sin, the times have sullied first marriage, our children, our homes: sprung from that source disaster has whelmed our fatherland and our people. The grown girl loves to be taught to be artful and dance oriental dances, obsessed to her dainty fingernails with illicit amours. She sniffs out young philand'rers at her husbands feet, not is she nice to choose to whom she (hurriedly) grants her favours when the lamps are removed. but brazenly stands when called-with her husband's assent-though some travelling salesman or Spanish captain may be the agent of Shame. The generation that dyed the Punic sea red with blood and laid low Pyrrhus, Antiochus and Hannibal was not born of parents such as these, but of manly comrades, yeoman soldiers taught to turn the soil with Sabine hoes and carry cut firewood at a strict mother's bidding when the Sun advanced the shadows of the hills and lifted the yokes from the weary steers, his departing chariot leading in the hours of comfort. What does corrupting time not diminish? Our grandparents brought forth feebler heirs; we are further degen'rate; and soon will beget progeny yet more wicked. - Horace
