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Ovid - David Wishart
1995 British hardcover 1st edition, first impression, Hodder & Stoughton, London A fine book in fine unclipped dust jacket No names, inscriptions or stamps etc Tightly bound and square, clean contents and cloth The jacket has no loss or tears Marcus Corvinus is something of a Roman period playboy and unfamiliar with work of any kind is asked to recover Ovid's ashes A nice copy of the rarest book in the series For Sale at £30 (approx $51) *P5 - free delivery worldwide ! |
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Suillius Rufus's place was on the slopes of the Esquiline not far from the Maecenas Gardens. It was good sound sycophant's property - flashy enough to impress but not sufficiently grand to attract dangerous envy in these luxury-sensitive times. The slave who opened the door for me wore red. Given the look of the place that could've only been for one of two reasons: first the chichi visual pun on Rufus's name, second because the Red team at the racecourse was Tiberius's favourite. Or at least everybody thought it was Tiberius's favourite. Personally I had my doubts. The Wart was quite capable of spreading a rumour like that just for the fun of watching guys like Rufus fall over themselves trying to lick his arse. The wall mosaic in the lobby was politically correct too. Forget your bourgeois 'Beware of the Dog' tat, this was art: a more than life-size Divine Augustus, golden rays of glory streaming from his noble brow, seated on a pink cloud between the goddesses of piety and liberality, shedding his gracious lustre on the tiny city of Rome below. All beautifully and tastefully done in stones the size of my little fingernail. You could even make out the goddesses' nipples. The thing must've cost an arm and a leg. I nearly threw up all over it. |
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