_Of the Third Province of Pamphagonia._
In the fifty-fifth degree, we come into the plains of Lecania, and so
into the very heart of Pamphagonia, where the chief city we meet with is
Cibinium, which is washed with the acid streams of the river Assagion.
In the forum, or market-place, is the tomb (as I conjecture by the
footsteps of some letters now remaining) of Apicius, that famous Roman,
not very beautiful, but antique. It is engraved upon the shell of a
sea-crab; and it might happen, notwithstanding what Seneca says, that
this famous epicure, after having sought for larger shell-fish than the
coast of Gallia could supply him with, and then going in vain to Africa
to make a farther inquiry, might hear some rumour concerning this coast,
steer his course thither, and there die of a surfeit. But this I leave
to the critics. Here I shall only mention the most fertile fields of
Lardana and Ossulia. The delicious situation of Mortadella, the
pleasantest of places, had wonderfully delighted me, had it not been for
the salt-works which often approach too near it. There is an offensive
stinking town called Formagium, alias Butterboxia, and Mantica, a boggy
place near the confines of Ivronia.
I hasten to the metropolis of the whole region, which, whether you
respect the uniformity of the building, the manners of the people, or
their way of living, their rules for behaviour, their law and justice,
will show as much as if I were to descend to particulars.