Bold hucksters had seized on the roads all about,
The contents of each shop you would see inside out,
Till the Emperor told them to beat a retreat,
And what was an alley made once more a street.
No cups chained to pillars to-day are allowed,
No barbers ply razors unseen in the crowd,
No longer through mud do our magistrates stray,
No longer do cookshops spread out o'er the way
Within doors butcher, barber, cook, vintner remain:
Rome was one big bazaar; she's herself now again.