Living Over a Bathing Establishment

I'm leaving shortly for three days in the hospital with my son. Not sure I'll be able to find an internet connection there...

On a newish blog called Fascinating History, I found this: Seneca the Younger, a Roman writer, complaining about his living situation.

"I live over a bathing establishment. Picture to yourself now the assortment of voices, the sound of which is enough to sicken one...

When the stronger fellows are exercising and swinging heavy leaden weights in their hands, when they are working hard or pretending to be working hard, I hear their hissing and jarring breathing.

When I have to do with a lazy fellow who is content with a cheap rubdown, I hear the slap of the hand pummelling his shoulders, changing its sound according as the hand is laid flat or curved.

If now a professional ball player comes along and begins to keep score, I am done for.

Add to this the arrest of a brawler or a thief, and the fellow who always likes to hear his own voice in the bath, and those who jump into the pool with a mighty splash as they strike the water.

In addition to those whose voices are, if nothing else, natural, imagine the hair plucker keeping up a constant chatter in this thin and strident voice, to attract more attention, and never silent except when he is plucking armpits and making the customer yell instead of yelling himself.

It disgusts me to enumerate the varied cries of the sausage dealer and the confectioner and of all the peddlers of the cook shops, hawking their wares, each with his own peculiar intonation."

Thanks, Alterior!


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