On their birthdays men made offerings to their Genius, women to their Juno. […] Their voices are harsh, their throats bloated, their mouths have become stretched by constant railing, their necks have shrunk up and disappeared, and their heads are joined to their bodies. […] The seamen draw in their oars, and hoist their sails. […] They seemed to hate their friends, and got away from their homes, as if, not knowing the cause of their sickness, they charged it on the place of their abode. […] Then turning away their faces, and giving random blows, they smote him with their weapons.