[189] TOWN-WATCH, (_cohortes urbanae_). Besides the imperial body-guard, specially devoted to the Caesar’s service, there was a city-guard, which provided for the maintenance of public safety. CHAPTER IX. The morning was already grey over the distant Sabine hills[190] when Quintus, followed by his clients and slaves,[191] left the scene of festivity. With him came Clodianus and the poet Martial; the former accompanied, like himself, by a number of dependents and satellites, the latter by a single slave, whose smoky little lamp looked absurd enough by the side of the handsome lanterns and torches of the rest of the escort. “A mad night!” sighed Martial, looking up. “The stars are already twinkling like eyes dim at leave-taking. Illustrious Clodianus, you will make my excuses to my patron, the chamberlain Parthenius, if I should fail to offer my morning greeting. Getting up early is my greatest torment,[192] even when I have crept between the coverlets at betimes, and to-day, after this unpardonable dissipation....” Clodianus laughed. “I will explain it to him,” he roared out in the fresh morning air. “However--I shall hardly see him before noon. I am as tired myself, as if I had been sawing stone all night.” “Yes, it is frightful to be so tired! I would give ten years of my life, if I might only sleep half the day. But on the contrary, before cock-crow, I must be out of bed, fling my toga over my shoulders, and be bowing to noblemen! By Castor! if I were not an ass, I should long since have fled to the peace and quietness of my native town!” “Well, sleep to-day till sundown! Just now Parthenius will be most willing to excuse you, for his head is so full of business, and Caesar makes such incessant claims upon his time, that he is glad when his best friends leave him in peace.” “I heard the same thing from my father,” added Quintus. “Some great stroke seems to be in hand. Is nothing known of the facts?” “Pah! it is the talk of the town. Plots dangerous to the state, treason to religion and society, conspiracies against Caesar....” “But the facts--the details...?” “You know,” said Clodianus laughing, “that in affairs of state, silence is as important, as valor is in battle!” “Well said!” cried the poet.[193] “With a little suitable embellishment, that may be turned into a brilliant epigram. Now, noble friends, I will bid you farewell. Our roads are no longer the same. I must climb up here to the temple on the Quirinal, while you go down into the valley. In life it is just the reverse. Apollo preserve you!” He hastily turned up the street, while Clodianus and Quintus went on along the ‘Long Way.’ “Aye!” said the crafty Clodianus. “I have constantly to remind myself of the duty of silence; more than once has my rash tongue run away with me. I come of an easy-tempered race, which are apt to talk without stopping to think. It is wrong, by Hercules!--it is wrong!”