the sun arose; then, when sleep left him, the Roman was all alive to
the patriotic reminiscences each scene suggested. Yonder to the far
south lay Alba, the old home of the Latins, and a little southward too
was the Lake of Regillus, where tradition had it the free Romans won
their first victory, and founded the greatness of the Republic. Along
the line of the Anio, a few miles north, had marched Hannibal on his
mad dash against Rome to save the doomed Capua. And these pictures of
brave days, and many another vision like them, welled up in Drusus's
mind, and the remembrance of the marble temples of the Greek cities
faded from his memory; for, as he told himself, Rome was built of
nobler stuff than marble;--she was built of the deeds of men strong
and brave, and masters of every hostile fate. And he rejoiced that he
could be a Roman, and share in his country's deathless fame, perhaps
could win for her new honour,--could be consul, triumphator, and lead
his applauding legions up to the temple of Capitoline Jove--another
national glory added to so many.

So the vision of the great city of tall ugly tenement houses, basking
on her "Seven Hills," which only on their summits showed the nobler
temples or the dwellings of the great patricians, broke upon him. And
it was with eyes a-sparkle with enthusiasm, and a light heart, that he
reached the Porta Esquilina, left the carriage for a litter borne by
four stout Syrians sent out from the house of his late uncle, and was
carried soon into the hubbub of the city streets.

Everywhere was the same crowd; shopping parties were pressing in and
out the stores, outrunners and foot-boys were continually colliding.
Drusus's escort could barely win a slow progress for their master.
Once on the Sacred Way the advance was more rapid; although even this
famous street was barely twenty-two feet wide from house wall to house