Of the picture of “Curius Dentatus” no record remains beyond the water-colour copy made by Hess in 1817,[286] and a fragment of the painting itself in a bad state of preservation, showing the heads of the three foremost of the five Samnite ambassadors (No. 330) (Pl. 40 (2)).[287] From Hess’s copy it is to be gathered that this composition must have been an exceptionally fine one, though one of the smallest of the series. The characters are placed under an open portico with round arches through which a wide expanse of country is seen. There is a tall tree in the foreground, and in the distance buildings and a bridge over a river, and a lofty mountain. Curius, dressed in Roman armour, is kneeling in front of his open hearth, cooking his evening repast, and looking round, without rising, at the five ambassadors, who are attired in rich Renaissance dress, and bear golden vessels and a large dish full of gold. Curius, refusing their bribes, points to the turnips he is cooking, and exclaims: “Malo hæc in fictilibus meis esse et aurum habentibus imperare” (“I would rather have these in my pot and rule over those who have gold”). These words were painted over the picture itself. Each one of the larger compositions, as well as the single figures, had similar painted inscriptions in Latin, and other admonitory couplets were placed upon the walls, the text of all of them being given by Tonjola in his _Basilea Sepulta._ The hall in which Curius is receiving the Samnites fills the upper half of the fresco, and is supported on masonry which occupies the lower half, in which is seen the opening to a vaulted chamber or cellar, in front of which stands an armed man, possibly intended to represent the messenger of the Basel Town Council, as he is dressed in the black-and-white armorial colours of the city, and wears a small badge with the city’s coat of arms fastened to his shoulder. His right hand is raised to his feathered hat as though he were about to salute the spectator. This picture was intended to glorify republican simplicity, and may have had reference also to the burning question of the “French pensions,” which helped to bring about Jakob Meyer’s downfall.[288] [Sidenote: “SAPOR AND VALERIAN”]