The procession of Arbaces moved along slowly, and with much solemnity till now, arriving at the place where it was necessary for such as came in litters or chariots to alight, Arbaces descended4 from his vehicle, and proceeded to the entrance by which the more distinguished5 spectators were admitted. His slaves, mingling6 with the humbler crowd, were stationed by officers who received their tickets (not much unlike our modern Opera ones), in places in the popularia (the seats apportioned7 to the vulgar). And now, from the spot where Arbaces sat, his eyes scanned the mighty8 and impatient crowd that filled the stupendous theatre.
On the upper tier (but apart from the male spectators) sat women, their gay dresses resembling some gaudy9 flower-bed; it is needless to add that they were the most talkative part of the assembly; and many were the looks directed up to them, especially from the benches appropriated to the young and the unmarried men. On the lower seats round the arena10 sat the more high-born and wealthy visitors—the magistrates11 and those of senatorial or equestrian12 dignity; the passages which, by corridors at the right and left, gave access to these seats, at either end of the oval arena, were also the entrances for the combatants. Strong palings at these passages prevented any unwelcome eccentricity14 in the movements of the beasts, and confined them to their appointed prey16. Around the parapet which was raised above the arena, and from which the seats gradually rose, were gladiatorial inscriptions17, and paintings wrought18 in fresco19, typical of the entertainments for which the place was designed. Throughout the whole building wound invisible pipes, from which, as the day advanced, cooling and fragrant20 showers were to be sprinkled over the spectators. The officers of the amphitheatre were still employed in the task of fixing the vast awning21 (or velaria) which covered the whole, and which luxurious22 invention the Campanians arrogated23 to themselves: it was woven of the whitest Apulian wool, and variegated24 with broad stripes of crimson25. Owing either to some inexperience on the part of the workmen, or to some defect in the machinery26, the awning, however, was not arranged that day so happily as usual; indeed, from the immense space of the circumference27, the task was always one of great difficulty and art—so much so, that it could seldom be adventured in rough or windy weather. But the present day was so remarkably28 still that there seemed to the spectators no excuse for the awkwardness of the artificers; and when a large gap in the back of the awning was still visible, from the obstinate29 refusal of one part of the velaria to ally itself with the rest, the murmurs31 of discontent were loud and general.
The aedile Pansa, at whose expense the exhibition was given, looked particularly annoyed at the defect, and, vowed32 bitter vengeance33 on the head of the chief officer of the show, who, fretting34, puffing35, perspiring36, busied himself in idle orders and unavailing threats.
The hubbub37 ceased suddenly—the operators desisted—the crowd were stilled—the gap was forgotten—for now, with a loud and warlike flourish of trumpets40, the gladiators, marshalled in ceremonious procession, entered the arena. They swept round the oval space very slowly and deliberately41, in order to give the spectators full leisure to admire their stern serenity42 of feature—their brawny43 limbs and various arms, as well as to form such wagers44 as the excitement of the moment might suggest.
'Oh!' cried the widow Fulvia to the wife of Pansa, as they leaned down from their lofty bench, 'do you see that gigantic gladiator? how drolly45 he is dressed!'
'Yes,' said the aedile's wife, with complacent46 importance, for she knew all the names and qualities of each combatant; 'he is a retiarius or netter; he is armed only, you see, with a three-pronged spear like a trident, and a net; he wears no armor, only the fillet and the tunic47. He is a mighty man, and is to fight with Sporus, yon thick-set gladiator, with the round shield and drawn48 sword, but without body armor; he has not his helmet on now, in order that you may see his face—how fearless it is!—by-and-by he will fight with his vizor down.'
'But surely a net and a spear are poor arms against a shield and sword?'
'That shows how innocent you are, my dear Fulvia; the retiarius has generally the best of it.'
'But who is yon handsome gladiator, nearly naked—is it not quite improper49? By Venus! but his limbs are beautifully shaped!'
'It is Lydon, a young untried man! he has the rashness to fight yon other gladiator similarly dressed, or rather undressed—Tetraides. They fight first in the Greek fashion, with the cestus; afterwards they put on armor, and try sword and shield.'
'He is a proper man, this Lydon; and the women, I am sure, are on his side.'
'So are not the experienced betters; Clodius offers three to one against him!'
'Oh, Jove! how beautiful!' exclaimed the widow, as two gladiators, armed cap-a-pie, rode round the arena on light and prancing50 steeds. Resembling much the combatants in the tilts51 of the middle age, they bore lances and round shields beautifully inlaid: their armor was woven intricately with bands of iron, but it covered only the thighs52 and the right arms; short cloaks, extending to the seat, gave a picturesque53 and graceful54 air to their costume; their legs were naked, with the exception of sandals, which were fastened a little above the ankle. 'Oh, beautiful! Who are these?' asked the widow.
'The one is named Berbix—he has conquered twelve times; the other assumes the arrogant55 name of Nobilior. They are both Gauls.'
While thus conversing56, the first formalities of the show were over. To these succeeded a feigned57 combat with wooden swords between the various gladiators matched against each other. Amongst these, the skill of two Roman gladiators, hired for the occasion, was the most admired; and next to them the most graceful combatant was Lydon. This sham58 contest did not last above an hour, nor did it attract any very lively interest, except among those connoisseurs59 of the arena to whom art was preferable to more coarse excitement; the body of the spectators were rejoiced when it was over, and when the sympathy rose to terror. The combatants were now arranged in pairs, as agreed beforehand; their weapons examined; and the grave sports of the day commenced amidst the deepest silence—broken only by an exciting and preliminary blast of warlike music.
It was often customary to begin the sports by the most cruel of all, and some bestiarius, or gladiator appointed to the beasts, was slain60 first, as an initiatory61 sacrifice. But in the present instance, the experienced Pansa thought it better that the sanguinary drama should advance, not decrease, in interest and, accordingly, the execution of Olinthus and Glaucus was reserved for the last. It was arranged that the two horsemen should first occupy the arena; that the foot gladiators, paired Off, should then be loosed indiscriminately on the stage; that Glaucus and the lion should next perform their part in the bloody62 spectacle; and the tiger and the Nazarene be the grand finale. And, in the spectacles of Pompeii, the reader of Roman history must limit his imagination, nor expect to find those vast and wholesale63 exhibitions of magnificent slaughter64 with which a Nero or a Caligula regaled the inhabitants of the Imperial City. The Roman shows, which absorbed the more celebrated65 gladiators, and the chief proportion of foreign beasts, were indeed the very reason why, in the lesser66 towns of the empire, the sports of the amphitheatre were comparatively humane67 and rare; and in this, as in other respects, Pompeii was but the miniature, the microcosm of Rome. Still, it was an awful and imposing68 spectacle, with which modern times have, happily, nothing to compare—a vast theatre, rising row upon row, and swarming69 with human beings, from fifteen to eighteen thousand in number, intent upon no fictitious70 representation—no tragedy of the stage—but the actual victory or defeat, the exultant72 life or the bloody death, of each and all who entered the arena!
The two horsemen were now at either extremity73 of the lists (if so they might be called); and, at a given signal from Pansa, the combatants started simultaneously74 as in full collision, each advancing his round buckler, each poising75 on high his light yet sturdy javelin76; but just when within three paces of his opponent, the steed of Berbix suddenly halted, wheeled round, and, as Nobilior was borne rapidly by, his antagonist77 spurred upon him. The buckler of Nobilior, quickly and skillfully extended, received a blow which otherwise would have been fatal.
'Bravely struck, my Berbix!' answered Clodius from his seat.
The vizors of both the horsemen were completely closed (like those of the knights79 in after times), but the head was, nevertheless, the great point of assault; and Nobilior, now wheeling his charger with no less adroitness80 than his opponent, directed his spear full on the helmet of his foe81. Berbix raised his buckler to shield himself, and his quick-eyed antagonist, suddenly lowering his weapon, pierced him through the breast. Berbix reeled and fell.
'Nobilior! Nobilior!' shouted the populace.
'I have lost ten sestertia,' said Clodius, between his teeth.
'Habet!—he has it,' said Pansa, deliberately.
The populace, not yet hardened into cruelty, made the signal of mercy; but as the attendants of the arena approached, they found the kindness came too late—the heart of the Gaul had been pierced, and his eyes were set in death. It was his life's blood that flowed so darkly over the sand and sawdust of the arena.
'It is a pity it was so soon over—there was little enough for one's trouble,' said the widow Fulvia.
'Yes—I have no compassion82 for Berbix. Any one might have seen that Nobilior did but feint. Mark, they fix the fatal hook to the body—they drag him away to the spoliarium—they scatter83 new sand over the stage! Pansa regrets nothing more than that he is not rich enough to strew84 the arena with borax and cinnabar, as Nero used to do.'
'Well, if it has been a brief battle, it is quickly succeeded. See my handsome Lydon on the arena—ay—and the net-bearer too, and the swordsmen! oh, charming!'
There were now on the arena six combatants: Niger and his net, matched against Sporus with his shield and his short broadsword; Lydon and Tetraides, naked save by a cincture round the waist, each armed only with a heavy Greek cestus—and two gladiators from Rome, clad in complete steel, and evenly matched with immense bucklers and pointed15 swords.
The initiatory contest between Lydon and Tetraides being less deadly than that between the other combatants, no sooner had they advanced to the middle of the arena than, as by common consent, the rest held back, to see how that contest should be decided85, and wait till fiercer weapons might replace the cestus, ere they themselves commenced hostilities86. They stood leaning on their arms and apart from each other, gazing on the show, which, if not bloody enough, thoroughly87 to please the populace, they were still inclined to admire, because its origin was of their ancestral Greece.
No person could, at first glance, have seemed less evenly matched than the two antagonists88. Tetraides, though not taller than Lydon, weighed considerably89 more; the natural size of his muscles was increased, to the eyes of the vulgar, by masses of solid flesh; for, as it was a notion that the contest of the cestus fared easiest with him who was plumpest, Tetraides had encouraged to the utmost his hereditary90 predisposition to the portly. His shoulders were vast, and his lower limbs thick-set, double-jointed, and slightly curved outward, in that formation which takes so much from beauty to give so largely to strength. But Lydon, except that he was slender even almost to meagreness, was beautifully and delicately proportioned; and the skilful91 might have perceived that, with much less compass of muscle than his foe, that which he had was more seasoned—iron and compact. In proportion, too, as he wanted flesh, he was likely to possess activity; and a haughty92 smile on his resolute93 face which strongly contrasted the solid heaviness of his enemy's, gave assurance to those who beheld94 it, and united their hope to their pity: so that, despite the disparity of their seeming strength, the cry of the multitude was nearly as loud for Lydon as for Tetraides.
Whoever is acquainted with the modern prize-ring—whoever has witnessed the heavy and disabling strokes which the human fist, skillfully directed, hath the power to bestow—may easily understand how much that happy facility would be increased by a band carried by thongs95 of leather round the arm as high as the elbow, and terribly strengthened about the knuckles96 by a plate of iron, and sometimes a plummet97 of lead. Yet this, which was meant to increase, perhaps rather diminished, the interest of the fray98: for it necessarily shortened its duration. A very few blows, successfully and scientifically planted, might suffice to bring the contest to a close; and the battle did not, therefore, often allow full scope for the energy, fortitude99 and dogged perseverance100, that we technically101 style pluck, which not unusually wins the day against superior science, and which heightens to so painful a delight the interest in the battle and the sympathy for the brave.
'Guard thyself!' growled102 Tetraides, moving nearer and nearer to his foe, who rather shifted round him than receded103.
Lydon did not answer, save by a scornful glance of his quick, vigilant104 eye. Tetraides struck—it was as the blow of a smith on a vice105; Lydon sank suddenly on one knee—the blow passed over his head. Not so harmless was Lydon's retaliation106: he quickly sprung to his feet, and aimed his cestus full on the broad breast of his antagonist. Tetraides reeled—the populace shouted.
'You are unlucky to-day,' said Lepidus to Clodius: 'you have lost one bet——you will lose another.'
'By the gods! my bronzes go to the auctioneer if that is the case. I have no less than a hundred sestertia upon Tetraides. Ha, ha! see how he rallies! That was a home stroke: he has cut open Lydon's shoulder. A Tetraides!—a Tetraides!'
'But Lydon is not disheartened. By Pollux! how well he keeps his temper. See how dexterously108 he avoids those hammer-like hands!—dodging now here, now there—circling round and round. Ah, poor Lydon! he has it again.'
'Three to one still on Tetraides! What say you, Lepidus?'
'Well, nine sestertia to three—be it so! What! again, Lydon? He stops—he gasps109 for breath. By the gods, he is down. No—he is again on his legs. Brave Lydon! Tetraides is encouraged—he laughs loud—he rushes on him.'
'Fool—success blinds him—he should be cautious. Lydon's eye is like the lynx's,' said Clodius, between his teeth.
'Earth revives him, then. He is once more up; but the blood rolls down his face.'
'By the thunderer! Lydon wins it. See how he presses on him! That blow on the temple would have crushed an ox! it has crushed Tetraides. He falls again—he cannot move—habet!—habet!'
'Habet!' repeated Pansa. 'Take them out and give them the armor and swords.'
'Noble editor,' said the officers, 'we fear that Tetraides will not recover in time; howbeit, we will try.'
'Do so.'
In a few minutes the officers, who had dragged off the stunned111 and insensible gladiator, returned with rueful countenances112. They feared for his life; he was utterly114 incapacitated from re-entering the arena.
'In that case,' said Pansa, 'hold Lydon a subdititius; and the first gladiator that is vanquished115, let Lydon supply his place with the victor.' The people shouted their applause at this sentence: then they again sunk into deep silence. The trumpet39 sounded loudly. The four combatants stood each against each in prepared and stern array.
'Dost thou recognize the Romans, my Clodius; are they among the celebrated, or are they merely ordinary?'
'Eumolpus is a good second-rate swordsman, my Lepidus. Nepimus, the lesser man, I have never seen before: but he is the son of one of the imperial fiscales, and brought up in a proper school; doubtless they will show sport, but I have no heart for the game; I cannot win back my money—I am undone116. Curses on that Lydon! who could have supposed he was so dexterous107 or so lucky?'
'Well, Clodius, shall I take compassion on you, and accept your own terms with these Romans?'
'An even ten sestertia on Eumolpus, then?'
'Well—ten to eight?'
'Agreed.'
While the contest in the amphitheatre had thus commenced, there was one in the loftier benches for whom it had assumed, indeed, a poignant—a stifling118 interest. The aged71 father of Lydon, despite his Christian119 horror of the spectacle, in his agonized120 anxiety for his son, had not been able to resist being the spectator of his fate. One amidst a fierce crowd of strangers—the lowest rabble121 of the populace—the old man saw, felt nothing, but the form—the presence of his brave son! Not a sound had escaped his lips when twice he had seen him fall to the earth—only he had turned paler, and his limbs trembled. But he had uttered one low cry when he saw him victorious122; unconscious, alas! of the more fearful battle to which that victory was but a prelude123.
'Is he thy son said a brawny fellow to the right of the Nazarene; 'he has fought well: let us see how he does by-and-by. Hark! he is to fight the first victor. Now, old boy, pray the gods that that victor be neither of the Romans! nor, next to them, the giant Niger.'
The old man sat down again and covered his face. The fray for the moment was indifferent to him—Lydon was not one of the combatants. Yet—yet—the thought flashed across him—the fray was indeed of deadly interest—the first who fell was to make way for Lydon! He started, and bent125 down, with straining eyes and clasped hands, to view the encounter.
The first interest was attracted towards the combat of Niger with Sporus; for this species of contest, from the fatal result which usually attended it, and from the great science it required in either antagonist, was always peculiarly inviting126 to the spectators.
They stood at a considerable distance from each other. The singular helmet which Sporus wore (the vizor of which was down) concealed127 his face; but the features of Niger attracted a fearful and universal interest from their compressed and vigilant ferocity. Thus they stood for some moments, each eyeing each, until Sporus began slowly, and with great caution, to advance, holding his sword pointed, like a modern fencer's, at the breast of his foe. Niger retreated as his antagonist advanced, gathering128 up his net with his right hand, and never taking his small glittering eye from the movements of the swordsman. Suddenly when Sporus had approached nearly at arm's length, the retiarius threw himself forward, and cast his net. A quick inflection of body saved the gladiator from the deadly snare129! he uttered a sharp cry of joy and rage, and rushed upon Niger: but Niger had already drawn in his net, thrown it across his shoulders, and now fled round the lists with a swiftness which the secutor in vain endeavored to equal. The people laughed and shouted aloud, to see the ineffectual efforts of the broad-shouldered gladiator to overtake the flying giant: when, at that moment, their attention was turned from these to the two Roman combatants.
They had placed themselves at the onset130 face to face, at the distance of modern fencers from each other: but the extreme caution which both evinced at first had prevented any warmth of engagement, and allowed the spectators full leisure to interest themselves in the battle between Sporus and his foe. But the Romans were now heated into full and fierce encounter: they pushed—returned—advanced on—retreated from each other with all that careful yet scarcely perceptible caution which characterizes men well experienced and equally matched. But at this moment, Eumolpus, the elder gladiator, by that dexterous back-stroke which was considered in the arena so difficult to avoid, had wounded Nepimus in the side. The people shouted; Lepidus turned pale.
'Ho!' said Clodius, 'the game is nearly over. If Eumolpus fights now the quiet fight, the other will gradually bleed himself away.'
'But, thank the gods! he does not fight the backward fight. See!—he presses hard upon Nepimus. By Mars! but Nepimus had him there! the helmet rang again!—Clodius, I shall win!'
'Why do I ever bet but at the dice131?' groaned133 Clodius to himself;—or why cannot one cog a gladiator?'
'A Sporus!—a Sporus!' shouted the populace, as Niger having now suddenly paused, had again cast his net, and again unsuccessfully. He had not retreated this time with sufficient agility—the sword of Sporus had inflicted134 a severe wound upon his right leg; and, incapacitated to fly, he was pressed hard by the fierce swordsman. His great height and length of arm still continued, however, to give him no despicable advantages; and steadily136 keeping his trident at the front of his foe, he repelled137 him successfully for several minutes. Sporus now tried, by great rapidity of evolution, to get round his antagonist, who necessarily moved with pain and slowness. In so doing, he lost his caution—he advanced too near to the giant—raised his arm to strike, and received the three points of the fatal spear full in his breast! He sank on his knee. In a moment more, the deadly net was cast over him, he struggled against its meshes138 in vain; again—again—again he writhed139 mutely beneath the fresh strokes of the trident—his blood flowed fast through the net and redly over the sand. He lowered his arms in acknowledgment of defeat.
The conquering retiarius withdrew his net, and leaning on his spear, looked to the audience for their judgement. Slowly, too, at the same moment, the vanquished gladiator rolled his dim and despairing eyes around the theatre. From row to row, from bench to bench, there glared upon him but merciless and unpitying eyes.
Hushed was the roar—the murmur! The silence was dread141, for it was no sympathy; not a hand—no, not even a woman's hand—gave the signal of charity and life! Sporus had never been popular in the arena; and, lately, the interest of the combat had been excited on behalf of the wounded Niger. The people were warmed into blood—the mimic142 fight had ceased to charm; the interest had mounted up to the desire of sacrifice and the thirst of death!
The gladiator felt that his doom143 was sealed: he uttered no prayer—no groan132. The people gave the signal of death! In dogged but agonized submission144, he bent his neck to receive the fatal stroke. And now, as the spear of the retiarius was not a weapon to inflict135 instant and certain death, there stalked into the arena a grim and fatal form, brandishing145 a short, sharp sword, and with features utterly concealed beneath its vizor. With slow and measured steps, this dismal146 headsman approached the gladiator, still kneeling—laid the left hand on his humbled147 crest148—drew the edge of the blade across his neck—turned round to the assembly, lest, in the last moment, remorse149 should come upon them; the dread signal continued the same: the blade glittered brightly in the air—fell—and the gladiator rolled upon the sand; his limbs quivered—were still—he was a corpse150.'
His body was dragged at once from the arena through the gate of death, and thrown into the gloomy den38 termed technically the spoliarium. And ere it had well reached that destination, the strife151 between the remaining combatants was decided. The sword of Eumolpus had inflicted the death-wound upon the less experienced combatant. A new victim was added to the receptacle of the slain.
Throughout that mighty assembly there now ran a universal movement; the people breathed more freely, and resettled themselves in their seats. A grateful shower was cast over every row from the concealed conduits. In cool and luxurious pleasure they talked over the late spectacle of blood. Eumolpus removed his helmet, and wiped his brows; his close-curled hair and short beard, his noble Roman features and bright dark eye attracted the general admiration152. He was fresh, unwounded, unfatigued.
The editor paused, and proclaimed aloud that, as Niger's wound disabled him from again entering the arena, Lydon was to be the successor to the slaughtered153 Nepimus, and the new combatant of Eumolpus.
'Yet, Lydon,' added he, 'if thou wouldst decline the combat with one so brave and tried, thou mayst have full liberty to do so. Eumolpus is not the antagonist that was originally decreed for thee. Thou knowest best how far thou canst cope with him. If thou failest, thy doom is honorable death; if thou conquerest, out of my own purse I will double the stipulated154 prize.'
The people shouted applause. Lydon stood in the lists, he gazed around; high above he beheld the pale face, the straining eyes, of his father. He turned away irresolute155 for a moment. No! the conquest of the cestus was not sufficient—he had not yet won the prize of victory—his father was still a slave!
'Noble aedile!' he replied, in a firm and deep tone, 'I shrink not from this combat. For the honour of Pompeii, I demand that one trained by its long-celebrated lanista shall do battle with this Roman.'
The people shouted louder than before.
'Four to one against Lydon!' said Clodius to Lepidus.
'I would not take twenty to one! Why, Eumolpus is a very Achilles, and this poor fellow is but a tyro156!'
Eumolpus gazed hard on the face of Lydon; he smiled; yet the smile was followed by a slight and scarce audible sigh—a touch of compassionate157 emotion, which custom conquered the moment the heart acknowledged it.
And now both, clad in complete armor, the sword drawn, the vizor closed, the two last combatants of the arena (ere man, at least, was matched with beast), stood opposed to each other.
It was just at this time that a letter was delivered to the proctor by one of the attendants of the arena; he removed the cincture—glanced over it for a moment—his countenance113 betrayed surprise and embarrassment158. He re-read the letter, and then muttering—'Tush! it is impossible!—the man must be drunk, even in the morning, to dream of such follies159!'—threw it carelessly aside, and gravely settled himself once more in the attitude of attention to the sports.
The interest of the public was wound up very high. Eumolpus had at first won their favor; but the gallantry of Lydon, and his well-timed allusion160 to the honour of the Pompeian lanista, had afterwards given the latter the preference in their eyes.
'Holla, old fellow!' said Medon's neighbor to him. 'Your son is hardly matched; but never fear, the editor will not permit him to be slain—no, nor the people neither; he has behaved too bravely for that. Ha! that was a home thrust!—well averted161, by Pollux! At him again, Lydon!—they stop to breathe. What art thou muttering, old boy
'Prayers!—trifles! The time for gods to carry a man away in a cloud is gone now. Ha! Jupiter! what a blow! Thy side—thy side!—take care of thy side, Lydon!'
There was a convulsive tremor163 throughout the assembly. A fierce blow from Eumolpus, full on the crest, had brought Lydon to his knee.
'Habet!—he has it!' cried a shrill164 female voice; 'he has it!' It was the voice of the girl who had so anxiously anticipated the sacrifice of some criminal to the beasts.
'I wish he were, if only to spite old surly Medon,' muttered the girl.
Meanwhile Lydon, who had hitherto defended himself with great skill and valor166, began to give way before the vigorous assaults of the practised Roman; his arm grew tired, his eye dizzy, he breathed hard and painfully. The combatants paused again for breath.
'Young man,' said Eumolpus, in a low voice, 'desist; I will wound thee slightly—then lower thy arms; thou hast propitiated167 the editor and the mob—thou wilt168 be honorably saved!'
'And my father still enslaved!' groaned Lydon to himself. 'No! death or his freedom.'
At that thought, and seeing that, his strength not being equal to the endurance of the Roman, everything depended on a sudden and desperate effort, he threw himself fiercely on Eumolpus; the Roman warily169 retreated—Lydon thrust again—Eumolpus drew himself aside—the sword grazed his cuirass—Lydon's breast was exposed—the Roman plunged170 his sword through the joints171 of the armor, not meaning, however, to inflict a deep wound; Lydon, weak and exhausted172, fell forward, fell right on the point: it passed through and through, even to the back. Eumolpus drew forth173 his blade; Lydon still made an effort to regain174 his balance—his sword left his grasp—he struck mechanically at the gladiator with his naked hand, and fell prostrate175 on the arena. With one accord, editor and assembly made the signal of mercy—the officers of the arena approached—they took off the helmet of the vanquished. He still breathed; his eyes rolled fiercely on his foe; the savageness176 he had acquired in his calling glared from his gaze, and lowered upon the brow darkened already with the shades of death; then, with a convulsive groan, with a half start, he lifted his eyes above. They rested not on the face of the editor nor on the pitying brows of his relenting judges. He saw them not; they were as if the vast space was desolate177 and bare; one pale agonizing178 face alone was all he recognized—one cry of a broken heart was all that, amidst the murmurs and the shouts of the populace, reached his ear. The ferocity vanished from his brow; a soft, a tender expression of sanctifying but despairing love played over his features—played—waned—darkened! His face suddenly became locked and rigid179, resuming its former fierceness. He fell upon the earth.
'Look to him,' said the aedile; 'he has done his duty!'
The officers dragged him off to the spoliarium.
'A true type of glory, and of its fate!' murmured Arbaces to himself, and his eye, glancing round the amphitheatre, betrayed so much of disdain180 and scorn, that whoever encountered it felt his breath suddenly arrested, and his emotions frozen into one sensation of abasement181 and of awe182.
Again rich perfumes were wafted183 around the theatre; the attendants sprinkled fresh sand over the arena.
'Bring forth the lion and Glaucus the Athenian,' said the editor.
And a deep and breathless hush140 of overwrought interest, and intense (yet, strange to say, not unpleasing) terror lay, like a mighty and awful dream, over the assembly.
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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glut
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descended
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distinguished
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mingling
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apportioned
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mighty
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gaudy
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arena
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magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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12
equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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13
vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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14
eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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15
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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16
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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17
inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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18
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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19
fresco
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| n.壁画；vt.作壁画于 | |
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20
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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21
awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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22
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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23
arrogated
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| v.冒称，妄取( arrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；没来由地把…归属（于） | |
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24
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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25
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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26
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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27
circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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28
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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29
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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30
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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31
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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32
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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33
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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34
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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35
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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36
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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37
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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38
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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39
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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40
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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41
deliberately
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|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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42
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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43
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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44
wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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45
drolly
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| adv.古里古怪地；滑稽地；幽默地；诙谐地 | |
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46
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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47
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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48
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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49
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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50
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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51
tilts
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| （意欲赢得某物或战胜某人的）企图，尝试( tilt的名词复数 ) | |
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52
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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53
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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54
graceful
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|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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55
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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56
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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57
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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58
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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59
connoisseurs
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| n.鉴赏家，鉴定家，行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
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60
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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61
initiatory
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| adj.开始的；创始的；入会的；入社的 | |
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62
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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63
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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64
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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65
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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66
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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67
humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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68
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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69
swarming
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|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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70
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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71
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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72
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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73
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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74
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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75
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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76
javelin
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| n.标枪，投枪 | |
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77
antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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78
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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79
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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80
adroitness
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81
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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82
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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83
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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84
strew
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| vt.撒；使散落；撒在…上，散布于 | |
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85
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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86
hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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87
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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88
antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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89
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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90
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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91
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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92
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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93
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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94
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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95
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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96
knuckles
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|
| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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97
plummet
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| vi.(价格、水平等)骤然下跌；n.铅坠；重压物 | |
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98
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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99
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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100
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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101
technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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102
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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103
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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104
vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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105
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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106
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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107
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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108
dexterously
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| adv.巧妙地，敏捷地 | |
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109
gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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110
totters
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的第三人称单数 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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111
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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112
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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113
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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114
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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115
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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116
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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117
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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118
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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119
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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120
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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121
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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122
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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123
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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124
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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125
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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126
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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127
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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128
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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129
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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130
onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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131
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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132
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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133
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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134
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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136
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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137
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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138
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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139
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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140
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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141
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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142
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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143
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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144
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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145
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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146
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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147
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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148
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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149
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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150
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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151
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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152
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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153
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
stipulated
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| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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155
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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156
tyro
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| n.初学者；生手 | |
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157
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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158
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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159
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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160
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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161
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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162
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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163
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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164
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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165
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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166
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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167
propitiated
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| v.劝解，抚慰，使息怒( propitiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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168
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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169
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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170
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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171
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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172
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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173
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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174
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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175
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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176
savageness
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| 天然，野蛮 | |
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177
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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178
agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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179
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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180
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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181
abasement
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| n.滥用 | |
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182
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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183
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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