What is he doing, Gellius, who has an itch with mother and sister and stays up all night with tunics cast aside? What is he doing, who does not allow his uncle to be a husband? Do you know the weight of crime he undertakes? He undertakes, O Gellius, so much as neither furthest Tethys nor Oceanus, father of nymphs, can cleanse: for there is no crime which can go further, not even if with lowered head he swallowed himself.