[in a brothel]What’s your price, then?[Titus Pullo]One thousand.[Madame]Gerrae! I could have half the whores in Narbo for that, and their mothers.[Titus Pullo]We’re not in Narbo, whatever that might be.[Madame]All right, my dove. We’ll pay. But the girl better f*** him like Helen of Troy with her ass on fire, or I’ll know the reason why.[Titus Pullo]