— How are the fistfights going? — while Cassius lifts a stone above his head, the constable entertains him with a conversation, and Amalia, comfortably settled on a pile of sacks, enjoys watching her master strain himself to the point of exhaustion. — I wanted to go myself, but the marshal doesn't allow me to slack off from my duties every day.
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The cheapest of the decent outfits cost 1 silver.
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers