Thus, chatting and laughing, they reached the shady avenues of plane and laurel, which extended almost to the shores of the river and, with their temples, columns, terraces and works of art, were the scene of enjoyment for a numerous throng of citizens. Here hundreds of handsome chariots--most of them with two wheels--rushed to and fro on a broad causeway; graceful horsemen dashed along the gravelled way, while the motley crowd of pedestrians slowly loitered along the side alleys. Here a following of young men pressed round the litter of some woman of rank; there a grave and morose-looking pedagogue led his flock to a grass-plot, where boys were exercising themselves in wrestling or throwing the discus.[314] Pairs of lovers strolled away hand in hand to remoter bowers; slaves--male and female--with their owners’ children, crowded round a juggler’s booth, applauding the skill with which Masthlion[315] balanced a heavy pole on his bare forehead, or the strength Ninus[316] displayed in supporting half a dozen boys upon his shoulders. Among the mob a legion of fruit and cake sellers wriggled and squeezed themselves; fortune-tellers twitched at the robe of the passer-by, urgently pressing their services on them; shipwrecked sailors sat begging by the wayside, with tablets on their knees[317] relating the history of their woes; flute-players piped their latest tunes from Gades; dark Egyptians exhibited tame snakes, which twined round the body, neck and arms of the owner to the measure of a dismal tom-tom. Lucilia and Claudia followed the shady alley, that ran parallel to the main road, greatly amused at the dazzling, noisy and ever-new scenes that met them at every turn. “Supposing we should meet your Aurelius--” said Lucilia. “My Aurelius! My sweet child, pray do not get into the habit of saying such things.” “Well, then--Caius Aurelius.” “It is not likely. He rarely comes now to the plain of Mars.” “Indeed. What has he to attend to of so much importance.” “He is studying hard; and for the last few days he has been a good deal with Cornelius Cinna, who generally admits him at this hour. Cinna thinks very highly of him.” “Well, for my part, I must confess I should prefer a ride here under the green trees, to all the harangues of that perverse old man.” “Aurelius finds him most interesting; he considers him quite a genius.” “What next?--A genius in the art of seeing the whole world black!” “Nay, quite seriously. Cinna is initiating Caius into the mysteries of state-craft, teaching him philosophy and history. Caius said, that in the few hours he had been permitted to converse with Cinna, he had learnt more than in many years of solitary study.” “Well; then our Caius--you yourself called him simply Caius--will soon begin to wrinkle his brows and to scent ruin and misery in everything. Do you know, child, this Cinna....”