Tr.: If I were to tell of suffering and bad billets, of scanty provisions ill set-out—but what was there we did not complain of when we did not get the day's ration? But, as for (lying on) the dry ground, there was an even greater abomination in that; for our beds were close to the enemy's walls—for from heaven and earth they (sc. the gods) drenched us with the moisture of meadows, a constant affliction, making the wool of our cloaks foul.