Of course, it was by now half an hour past dawn, so the gates were open and the whole colonia was waking for the day. An enterprising tradesman had set up a booth inside the arch, selling leafy garlands and strips of cloth on which the legend ‘Long Live the Emperor Pertinax’ had been daubed, and was already doing a brisk trade with visitors. Otherwise the town appeared as usual. Shopkeepers were busy sweeping down their slushy frontages, taking shutters down or laying their goods out on the freshly cleared pavement in the hope of attracting passing customers. Two slaves were struggling to the fuller’s with a brimming urine pot, and the first street vendors were hollering their wares: ‘Fresh milk!’ ‘Hot pies. Finest horsemeat. Cheapest in the town!’ But there were hardly any other pedestrians as yet, and it was possible to walk quickly through the streets – though I did encounter a little flock of geese, being driven towards the market to be killed and sold. The gooseherd looked up at me as I tried to pass.
