At every piazza there are detachments stationed; their muskets are stacked in rows on the ground, and the men stand ready to march at the word of order.

In every side- street sentinels are posted.

From time to time orderlies gallop past.
Ever and anon you hear the rub-a-dub of the drums, as new detachments pass on towards the Corso.

The head-quarters at the Piazza Colonna are crowded with officers coming and going, and the whole French troops off duty seem to have received orders to crowd the Corso, where they stroll along in knots of three or four, alone and unnoticed by the crowd around them.

The heavy guns boom forth from the Castle of St Angelo, and the Carnival has begun.
Gradually and slowly the street fills.