[The Last Days of Pompeii by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton]@TWC D-Link book
The Last Days of Pompeii

CHAPTER VII
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Thence, somewhat cooled, he passed into the water-bath, over which fresh perfumes were profusely scattered, and on emerging from the opposite part of the room, a cooling shower played over his head and form.

Then wrapping himself in a light robe, he returned once more to the tepidarium, where he found Glaucus, who had not encountered the sudatorium; and now, the main delight and extravagance of the bath commenced.

Their slaves anointed the bathers from vials of gold, of alabaster, or of crystal, studded with profusest gems, and containing the rarest unguents gathered from all quarters of the world.

The number of these smegmata used by the wealthy would fill a modern volume--especially if the volume were printed by a fashionable publisher; Amaracinum, Megalium, Nardum--omne quod exit in um--while soft music played in an adjacent chamber, and such as used the bath in moderation, refreshed and restored by the grateful ceremony, conversed with all the zest and freshness of rejuvenated life.
'Blessed be he who invented baths!' said Glaucus, stretching himself along one of those bronze seats (then covered with soft cushions) which the visitor to Pompeii sees at this day in that same tepidarium.
'Whether he were Hercules or Bacchus, he deserved deification.' 'But tell me,' said a corpulent citizen, who was groaning and wheezing under the operation of being rubbed down, 'tell me, O Glaucus!--evil chance to thy hands, O slave! why so rough ?--tell me--ugh--ugh!--are the baths at Rome really so magnificent ?' Glaucus turned, and recognized Diomed, though not without some difficulty, so red and so inflamed were the good man's cheeks by the sudatory and the scraping he had so lately undergone.

'I fancy they must be a great deal finer than these.


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