He will wear nothing on his head.  On a journey, or when the sun was particularly strong in the roofless theatre or circus, he might put on a broad-brimmed hat, very much like that of the modern Italian priest.  Instead of the hat it was common, when the weather so required, either to draw a fold of the toga over the head or to wear a hood closely resembling the monkish cowl.  This might be either attached to a cloak or made separately for the purpose.  The hood was also employed when, particularly in the evening, the wearer had either public or private reasons for concealing his identity as he moved abroad, commonly issuing in such cases from his side door.  But on an ordinary day, and when attending a ceremony, the Roman head is bare.  So also are the hands, for gloves are not yet in use.

On arriving at the palace—­outside which there is generally standing a crowd of the curious or the snobs—­Silius passes through the guards, Roman or German, at the doors, is taken in hand by the court slave or freedman who acts as usher, and himself goes through a process similar to that which his own clients have undergone.  There are times, and just now they may be frequent, at which he will have to submit to a search, for fear he may be carrying a concealed weapon.  If he is high in favour or position, he belongs to the batch of “first admittance,” or first entree.  If not, he must be contented with “second.”  He will find that His Highness Nero, exacting as he may be concerning the costume of his callers, will not trouble to put on his own toga, as a more respectable emperor would have done, but will appear in anything he pleases, frequently a tunic or a wrapper of silk, relieved only by a handkerchief round the neck.  Nor will his High Mightiness always condescend to lace his shoes.  If he is in a good humour, he may bestow the kiss, remember your name, and call you “my very dear Silius.”  If he has been accustomed to do so, but omits the warmer greeting on this occasion, it may be taken as boding you no good.  It is, however, very probable that in this year 64 he will refuse the kiss to almost every one of the senators, for he has already come openly to detest them.  It will suffice if he so much as offers his hand to be saluted.  Caligula, being a “god,” had sometimes offered his foot, but only that crack-brained emperor had so far attempted this enormity.

[Illustration:  FIG. 63.—­READING A PROCLAMATION. (Pompeii.) The writing is upon a long board in front of equestrian statues.]

The day happens to be one on which the emperor has nothing further to say and requires no advice.  Silius is therefore free to go his ways.  There is also no meeting of the Senate, no festival, chariot-race, or show of gladiators.  He has therefore only the ordinary day before him, and he proceeds, as practically every other caller does, towards the Forum and its neighbourhood.  If on his way he meets with a great public official—­a consul or a praetor—­proceeding