A curule seat is a design of chair noted for its uses in Ancient Rome and Europe through to the 20th century. Its uses in Rome as a symbol of political or military power carried over to be used in such a regard by Kings in Europe, Napoleon, and others.
In the Roman Republic, and Empire, the curule chair (sella curulis, supposedly from currus, "chariot") was the seat upon which magistrates holding imperium were entitled to sit. This includes dictators, magistri equitum, consuls, praetors, censors, curule aediles, and the promagistrates, temporary or de facto holders of such offices. Additionally, the Flamen of Jupiter (Flamen Dialis) was also allowed to sit on a curule seat, though this position did not hold imperium. Livy writes that the three flamines maiores or high priests of the Archaic Triad of major gods were each granted the honor of the curule chair.
According to Livy the curule seat, like the Roman toga, originated in Etruria, and it has been used on surviving Etruscan monuments to identify magistrates. However, much earlier stools supported on a cross-frame are known from the New Kingdom of Egypt. One of the earliest recorded examples of the curule chair was in 494 BC when the honour of a curule chair in the circus maximus was awarded to the Roman dictator Manius Valerius Maximus as a result of his victory over the Sabines. According to Cassius Dio, early in 44 BC a senate decree granted Julius Caesar the curule seat everywhere except in the theatre, where his gilded chair and jeweled crown were carried in, putting him on a par with the gods. As a form of throne, the sella might be given as an honor to foreign kings recognized formally as allies by the Roman people or senate. The curule chair is also used on Roman medals as well as funerary monuments to express a curule magistracy; when traversed by a hasta, it is the symbol of Juno.
Lying alone in this cold and quiet room
I can hear their whispers now
I can sense it: A turn is coming on
Lying alone in this cold and quiet room
The door is silently opening
I can sense it: A turn is coming on
Wincing faces, racked by pain
They come to me as I fall asleep
Climbing the stairs, to hide is vain
They will get me in this night so deep
Exhausted veins
Bloody drugs every day
Their needles in my brain
They gave me one more jab supposed to relieve all that pain
I tried to get away
To escape from that place
But my own legs betray me leaving body on that bed
Wincing faces, in front of me
They've come to me and I don't dare
To give that fight for eternity