“It is of no use; your father’s wishes have always been my law. Believe me, my sweet child, the utmost I can do is to allow you to visit at that house....” “Come, that would be too bad, mother! I really believe, that if he had not formally released Quintus from his filial bondage, he would have been capable of forbidding the marriage.” “It is quite possible,” replied Octavia. “That noble soul places the commonwealth above every other consideration. You can hardly imagine, how unswervingly he goes on the road he believes to be the right one.” “Oh yes! I know his resolute nature,” said Claudia, “and I honor and admire it. Say no more, Lucilia; mother is right. A man must never yield even a hand-breadth, and silent obedience is a wife’s first duty.” “You are my dear good child,” said Octavia much touched. “And believe me when I say, that the fulfilment of this duty, hard as it seems, is a heartfelt joy when such a man as your father is the husband. He is strict and firm, but not a tyrant; he is always ready to listen to reason, and to take council with the chosen companion of his life. Nay, he is not above learning from the humblest. On one point only he stands like a rock against which the surf beats in vain, and that point is Duty.” “Here comes Baucis!” cried Lucilia with a laugh of saucy amusement. “Hail, oh fairest of brides, clad in the garb of rejoicing! Baucis in sky-blue! If this does not procure her a Philemon, I must despair of the fate of humanity.” “You hear, mistress, how shamefully she mocks your waiting-woman,” said Baucis in lamentable tones. “I can never do anything right. If I wear grey, she hints at an ass; if I put on a handsome dress, she laughs at me to my face. However, what I had to say is, that the litters are at the door and the young master has asked three times if his sisters were coming.” “We are quite ready,” said Claudia. A dense crowd had gathered outside the vestibule. Quintus, with only three of his slaves, was waiting impatiently in the entrance. The twelve litter-bearers in their red livery stood by the poles, and eight negroes--the van and rear-guard of the procession--were staring vacantly into the air. A number of idlers had collected round these--the inquisitive gapers who always swarmed wherever there was anything to be seen, however trivial. These were the class who, not choosing to work, lived on the corn given away by the state;[216] the uproarious mob who filled the upper rows of seats in the theatres and circus; the populace whose suffrages no Caesar was too proud to court, since it was among these that arbitrary despotism had its most staunch adherents, in the struggle against the last remnants of a free and freedom-loving aristocracy. “Oh! how handsome she is!” ran from mouth to mouth among the loiterers, as Claudia stepped into the foremost litter; Lucilia took her place by her adopted sister’s side. The second litter was to carry Baucis and a young slave girl.