Destination: the frosty crags of Hercules’ own Tibur, where Albula seethes and fumes with sulphur-springs. The fourth milestone just out of town marks an estate: a sacred grove, the Muses’ favourite acres. Here, a ramshackle portico offers shade in summer’s heat... at least, it did. How near that bower dared outlandish crime! For it all at once fell in a heap — moments after Regulus in his two-horse car had driven under it.
This one is for the amazing @miriam_bay, who is just now finishing up her brilliant PhD thesis on classical reception in the gardens of the world-famous Villa d’Este at Tivoli (ancient Tibur), has bathed in its sulphur-springs, and needed the first couple of lines. You should check out her own research blog at http://nasossong.wordpress.com/.
For sure, Fate feared our backlash; she knew she couldn’t take the bad PR. As it is, the loss is actually a win; the risk brings profit: if it still stood, it couldn’t have proved there were gods.
