As the leader of the great Roman republic, which stretches from the Land of the Lusitani to Athens, and from the mountains of southern Gaul to the sands of northern Africa, I hate...I hate...the Yellow Death seething up from the Arabian deserts and the great Nile Valley. All other enemies are mere nuisances to me.
I have laid waste to their great coastal cities, I have strangled their maritime trade routes, I have filled the dry desert riverbeds with the blood of their warriors...yet they still keep coming, with seemingly infinite reserves no doubt drawn from conquered lands to the east. I am consumed with visions of their total destruction. Great Roman military generals have been forged in the cauldron of nearly endless fighting, and more will follow as surely as tomorrow's sunrise. I know that one of our youngest and brightest boys from the ruling family will ascend to the highest ranks and crush the Ptolemaics for all time.
Ahem...Yeah, I seriously hate the Ptolemaics...
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