Gay and busy was the scene on the quays of Baiae; distinguished visitors from every part of the vast empire were driving, riding or walking on the lava-paved[48] sea-wall, and the long roads round the harbor. Elegantly-dressed ladies in magnificent litters were borne by Sicambri[49] in red livery,[50] or by woolly-headed Ethiopians.[51] Lower down a crowd of sailors shouted and struggled, and weather-beaten porters in Phrygian caps urgently offered their services, while vendors of cakes and fruit shrilly advertised the quality of their fragrant goods. Behind this bustling foreground of unresting and eager activity rose the amphitheatre of buildings that composed the town. Aurelius had been charmed with Panormus and Gades, but he now had to confess that they both must yield the palm in comparison with this, the finest pleasure-resort and bathing-place in the world. Palace was ranged above palace, villa beyond villa, temple above temple. Amid an ocean of greenery stood statues, halls, theatres and baths;[52] as far round as the promontory of Misenum the shores of the bay were one long town of villas, gorgeous with the combined splendors of wealth, and of natural beauty. The two ladies and their cortège proceeded for some distance along the shore of the harbor, and then turned up-hill in the direction of Cumae.[53] In front walked eight or ten slaves[54] who cleared the way; then came Octavia, her litter borne by six bronze-hued Lusitanians.[55] Claudia shared her litter with Baucis, while Herodianus, Magus, Octavia’s rowers, and a few servants with various bundles followed on foot. Aurelius had mounted his Hispanian horse and rode by the side of the little caravan, sometimes in front, sometimes behind, and enquiring the way, now of Octavia and now of Claudia and Baucis. “Our villa is quite at the top of the ridge,” said Claudia. “There, where the holm oaks come down to the fig gardens.” “What?” cried Aurelius in surprise. “That great pillared building, half buried in the woods to the left?” “No, no,” said the girl laughing; “the gods have not housed us so magnificently. To the right--that little villa in the knoll.” “Ah!” cried the Batavian; the disappointment was evidently a very pleasant one. “And whose is that vast palace?” “It belongs to Domitia, Caesar’s wife. Since she has lived separate from her imperial lord, she always spends the summer here.” The road grew steeper as they mounted. “Oh merciful power!” sighed the worthy Baucis, “to think that these fine young men should be made to toil thus for an old woman! By Osiris! I am ashamed of myself. To carry you, sweet Claudia, is indeed a pleasure--but me, wrinkled old Baucis! If I had not sprained my ribs--as sure as I live...! But I will reward them for it; each man shall have a little jar of Nile-water.”