In The Shadow Of Caesar
'I was fifty years of age when we crossed that little stream from Cisalpine Gaul into Italy. Physically I was fit and strong from years of campaigning. My muscles were still hard and I had learnt to endure hunger and cold, to stay in the saddle for days on end, even to sleep in it on occasion. Like most Romans, the sight of blood and the infliction of physical pain meant nothing to me.