Cato scowled first at my unseemly display, and then at the theater out there on Campus Martius. “And that’s another thing: That building is an abomination! Pompey stooped to every shameless subterfuge to build a permanent theater in Rome! Oh, I grant you that he built it outside the walls and put a temple on top of it, but still—”
That was Cato for you, a deeply tiresome man. He died splendidly, though. There are times that I wish I had died with him all those years ago in Utica.
These are the events of four days in the year 701 of the City of Rome, during the Interregnum of Quintus Caecilius Metellus Pius Scipio Nasica.