In ancient Rome, a general, many to become emperors, presided over The Triumph (Triumphus), a victory parade through the streets of the city with throngs watching him pass by. In a chariot he lead the parade, and heard the ovations of the masses. He wore a purple tunic, for purple was a rare dye only the nobility and powerful could afford. Behind him walked all his army, his men and women captives, soon to become slaves, followed by his other spoils of war. A slave held his golden crown, but the main role of the slave was to occasionally whisper in his ear,
Memento mori, memento mori.
Translated it means, Remember, you will die.
I dedicate this story to all politicians of power and high station.