Hence we were bowled away in chaises twenty- four miles, intending to stop at a little town, which one can not name in a verse, but it is easily enough known by description. For water is sold here, though the worst in the world; but their bread is exceeding fine, inasmuch that the weary traveler is used to carry it willingly on his shoulders; for[ the bread] at Canusium is gritty; a pitcher of water is worth no more[ than it is here]: which place was formerly built by the valiant Diomedes. Here Varius departs dejected from his weeping friends.