Cesar Wolf’s throwing a party for the soldiers in his house. To fend off fines, he throws a party much to the mercenaries’ delight. That’s when – like Lucifer came falling from his throne – he comes wobbling down the stairs. One man – mercy taken from his hands – drags him deeper in debt. In fact, it’s Cesar Wolf who’s told me, falling back on wilful songs, it doesn’t help – that’s what he told me: most wilful songs still get it wrong. Remember – privileged though, Orpheus walked the road – how Orpheus drifted on. How in an orgy – raging women, sticks and stones – he was ripped to shreds at dawn. No, I won’t put up the good fight with a soldier or his faith. We’re all poets and told to be quiet if we’re not to rue the day.