the desert had been allied with the rebels, and to the Romans
it seemed that their Emperor had won a great victory in a mighty
campaign. Aurelius humored their mood, and with good
judgment, for they needed all the encouragement possible. He
arranged to have his return celebrated by shows of all kinds,
theatrical performances, fights of gladiators, beast fights,
horse-races uncountable and above all, by that thrilling
procession of a victor and his armed soldiers through the
city along the Sacred Street, up to the great temple on the
Capitol, which was the highest honor an army and a
commander could receive at the hands of the Roman
government, which signalized a notable victory over notable
odds, which was called a triumph. Of triumphs Rome had
seen fewer than three hundred in more than nine hundred years.
Not one of the three hundred had been as magnificent as the
triumph of Aurelius.

Its auxiliary spectacles were similarly magnificent. In particular
the gladiatorial shows surpassed anything within the memory of
the oldest living spectator.

Causidiena, whose eyes troubled her greatly, found that watching
the triumphal procession caused her so much pain that she absented
herself from the remaining shows. To all of these, races, beast-fights
and combats of gladiators, she insisted that the other five Vestals
should go together. The arrangement was unusual, but no one could
object, for no one would hint or even think that the sacred fire
would be in any danger of going out with such a Chief Vestal
as Causidiena caring for it or that she needed any other Vestal to
assist her. Likewise her five colleagues were genuinely pleased