The poet Ovid, conductor of many metamorphoses and poet of seduction was exiled from in 8 AD by the emperor Augustus. There is a painting by Delacroix called Ovid Among the Scythians, it depicts the poet slumped on barren hillock in front of the wind-swept shores of the Black Sea. There are no trees, just some grass, rocks and mist and the colours are chilly and bleak. Some of the locals try to comfort Ovid, but he ignores them; these people are barbarians to him, and hopelessly uncouth, he does not even deign to lift his head. From suave metropolitan lady’s man, and a poet invigorated by his surroundings, he became a miserable exile.