and it happened to open with an invocation to a Priscus.  No sooner had the author begun, “Priscus, thou bidst me tell ...” than the man of that name called out “Indeed I don’t.”  This “caused laughter” and “cast a chill over the proceedings.”  Pliny apologises for the man, as being a little light in the head, but he is manifestly tickled all the same.  It is scarcely a wonder that the Roman was glad to escape from all these formalities of “toga’d Rome” to his country seat, or to the freer life of Baiae.

His business in the Forum accomplished, Silius returns to his house on the Caelian.  As, on the slope of the Sacred Way, he passes the rich shops of the jewellers, florists, and perfumers, he may be tempted to make some purchase, which the attendant slaves will carry to the house.  Arrived there, he will take his luncheon, a fairly substantial though by no means a heavy meal.  He may perhaps be a married man.  If nothing has yet been said about his wife, it is because in the higher Roman households the husband and wife owned their separate property, lived their own lives, and were almost equally free to spend their time in their own way, since marriage at this date was rather a contract than a union.  If, however, he is a benedict, it is probable that at this meal the family will meet, no outside company being present.  Silius himself reclines on a couch, the children are seated, and the wife may adopt either attitude.  After this our friend will probably take a siesta, precisely as he might take it in Italy to-day.  The practice was indeed not universal; nevertheless it was general.  He will not go to bed, but will sleep awhile upon a couch in some quiet and darkened room.  If he cannot sleep, or when he wakes, he may perhaps read or be read to.  Where he will spend the afternoon till the bath and dinner is a matter of his own choice.

CHAPTER XIII

SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT (continued)—­AFTERNOON AND DINNER

We will suppose that Silius is specially inclined for action and society.  The afternoon is growing chilly, and, as he has no further ceremonial to undergo, he will probably throw over his toga a richly coloured mantle—­violet, amethyst, or scarlet—­to be fastened on the shoulder with a buckle or brooch.  In very cold weather, especially when travelling, Romans of all classes would wear a thick cloak, somewhat like the cape worn by a modern policeman or cab-driver, or perhaps more closely resembling the poncho of Spanish America.  This, which consisted of some strong and as nearly as possible waterproof stuff, had no opening at the sides, but was put on by passing the head through a hole.  To-day Silius puts on the coloured mantle, and gets himself carried across the Forum, through the gap between the Capitoline and Quirinal Hills, and into the Campus Martius, somewhere about the modern Piazza Venezia and the entrance to the Corso.  Here he may descend from his litter,