” — threw
it carelessly aside and gravely settled himself once more in the
attitude of attention to the sports.
it carelessly aside and gravely settled himself once more in the
attitude of attention to the sports.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v05 - Bro to Cai
And in the
spectacles of Pompeii, the reader of Roman history must limit
his imagination, nor expect to find those vast and wholesale
exhibitions of magnificent slaughter with which a Nero or a
Caligula regaled the inhabitants of the Imperial City. The
Roman shows, which absorbed the more celebrated gladiators
and the chief proportion of foreign beasts, were indeed the very
reason why in the lesser towns of the empire the sports of the
## p. 2707 (#271) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2707
amphitheatre were comparatively humane and rare; and in this
as in other respects, Pompeii was the miniature, the microcosm
of Rome. Still, it was an awful and imposing spectacle, with
which modern times have, happily, nothing to compare; a vast
theatre, rising row upon row, and swarming with human beings,
from fifteen to eighteen thousand in number, intent upon no
fictitious representation - no tragedy of the stage — but the actual
victory or defeat, the exultant life or the bloody death, of each
and all who entered the arena!
The two horsemen were now at either extremity of the lists
(if so they might be called), and at a given signal from Pansa
the combatants started simultaneously as in full collision, each
advancing his round buckler, each poising on high his sturdy
javelin; 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 antagonist spurred upon him. The
buckler of Nobilior, quickly and skillfully extended, received a
blow which otherwise would have been fatal.
“Well done, Nobilior! ” cried the prætor, giving the first vent
to the popular excitement.
"Bravely struck, my Berbix! » answered Clodius from his
seat.
And the wild murmur, swelled by many a shout, echoed from
side to side.
The visors of both the horsemen were completely closed (like
those of the knights in after times), but the head was neverthe-
less the great point of assault; and Nobilior, now wheeling his
charger with no less adroitness than his opponent, directed his
spear full on the helmet of his foe. 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.
## p. 2708 (#272) ###########################################
2708
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
"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 compassion 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
scatter new sand over the stage! Pansa regrets nothing more
than that he is not rich enough to strew 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 broad-
sword; 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 pointed 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
decided, and wait till fiercer weapons might replace the cestus
ere they themselves commenced hostilities. They stood leaning
on their arms and apart from each other, gazing on the show,
which, if not bloody enough thoroughly to please the populace,
they were still inclined to admire because its origin was of their
ancestral Greece.
No persons could at first glance have seemed less evenly
matched than the two antagonists. Tetraides, though no taller
than Lydon, weighed considerably 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 hereditary 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 meagre-
ness, was beautifully and delicately proportioned; and the skillful
might have perceived that with much less compass of muscle
than his foe, that which he had was more seasoned - iron and
## p. 2709 (#273) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2709
compact. In proportion, too, as he wanted flesh, he was likely
to possess activity; and a haughty smile on his resolute face,
which strongly contrasted with the solid heaviness of his enemy's,
gave assurance to those who beheld 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 thongs of leather round the arm as high as
the elbow, and terribly strengthened about the knuckles by a
plate of iron, and sometimes a plummet of lead. Yet this, which
was meant to increase, perhaps rather diminished, the interest of
the fray; 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, fortitude, and dogged per-
severance that we technically 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! ” growled Tetraides, moving nearer and
nearer to his foe, who rather shifted round him than receded.
Lydon did not answer, save by a scornful glance of his quick,
vigilant eye.
Tetraides struck - it was as the blow of a smith
on a vise; Lydon sank suddenly on one knee - the blow passed
over his head. Not so harmless was Lydon's retaliation; he
quickly sprang to his feet, and aimed his cestus full on the
broad chest 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
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 dextrously he avoids those hammer-
like hands! - dodging now here, now there— circling round and
round. Ah, poor Lydon! he has it again. ”
case.
## p. 2710 (#274) ###########################################
2710
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
« Three to one still on Tetraides! What say you, Lepidus ? »
“Well — nine sestertia to three - be it so!
so! What! again
Lydon. He stops — he gasps 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 a lynx's! ” said Clodius, between his teeth.
"Ha, Clodius! saw you that ? Your man
totters! Another
blow- he falls — he falls ! »
“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. ”
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 stifling interest. The aged father of Lydon,
despite his Christian horror of the spectacle, in his agonized
anxiety for his son had not been able to resist being the spec-
tator of his fate. Once amid a fierce crowd of strangers, the
lowest rabble 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 victorious; unconscious,
alas! of the more fearful battle to which that victory was but a
prelude.
“My gallant boy! ” said he, and wiped his eyes.
"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 bent down, with strain-
ing eyes and clasped hands, to view the encounter.
## p. 2711 (#275) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2711
The first interest was attracted toward the combat of Niger
with Sporus; for this spectacle of contest, from the fatal result
which usually attended it, and from the great science it required
in either antagonist, was always peculiarly inviting to the spec-
tators.
They stood at a considerable distance from each other. The
singular helmet which Sporus wore (the visor of which was down)
concealed his face; but the features of Niger attracted a fearful
and universal interest from their compressed and vigilant fero-
city. Thus they stood for some moments, each eying each, until
Sporus began slowly and with great caution to advance, hold-
ing his sword pointed, like a modern fencer's, at the breast of his
foe. Niger retreated as his antagonist advanced, gathering up
his net with his right hand and never taking his small, glitter-
ing 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 snare; 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 around 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 onset 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 charac-
terizes men well experienced and equally matched. But at this
moment Eumolpus, the elder gladiator, by that dextrous back-
stroke which was considered in the arena so difficult to avoid,
had wounded Nepimus in the side. The people shouted; Lepidus
turned pale.
* So called from the office of that tribe of gladiators in following the foe
the moment the net was cast, in order to smite him ere he could have time
to re-arrange it.
## p. 2712 (#276) ###########################################
2712
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
«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 dice ? groaned Clodius to
himself; — “or why cannot one cog a gladiator ? ”
"A Sporus! - a Sporus! ” shouted the populace, as Niger, now
having suddenly paused, had again cast his net, and again un-
successfully. He had not retreated this time with sufficient
agility — the sword of Sporus had inflicted 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
steadily keeping his trident at the front of his foe, he repelled
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.
moment more the deadly net was cast over him,- he struggled
against its meshes in vain; again – again – again he writhed
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 judgment. 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 unpity-
ing eyes.
Hushed was the roar the murmur! The silence was dread,
for in 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 com-
bat had been excited on behalf of the wounded Niger. The
people were warmed into blood the mimic fight had ceased to
charm; the interest had mounted up to the desire of sacrifice and
the thirst of death!
In a
1
1
.
1
## p. 2713 (#277) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2713
The gladiator felt that his doom was sealed; he uttered no
prayer - no groan. The people gave the signal of death! In
dogged but agonized submission he bent his neck to receive the
fatal stroke. And now, as the spear of the retiarius was not a
weapon to inflict instant and certain death, there stalked into the
arena a grim and fatal form, brandishing a short, sharp sword,
and with features utterly concealed beneath its visor. With slow
and measured step this dismal headsman approached the gladi-
ator, still kneeling — laid the left hand on his humbled crest
drew the edge of the blade across his neck — turned round to the
assembly, lest, in the last moment, remorse 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 corpse.
His body was dragged at once from the arena through the
gate of death, and thrown into the gloomy den termed technically
the “spoliarium. ” And ere it had well reached that destination
the strife 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 recep-
tacle of the slain.
Throughout that mighty assembly there now ran a universal
movement; the people breathed more freely and settled them-
selves 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 admiration. He was fresh, unwounded, unfatigued.
The ædile paused, and proclaimed aloud that as Niger's
wound disabled him from again entering the arena, Lydon was
to be the successor to the slaughtered 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
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 stipulated prize. ”
The people shouted applause. Lydon stood in the lists; he
gazed around; high above he beheld the pale face, the straining
So.
## p. 2714 (#278) ###########################################
2714
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
eyes of his father. He turned away irresolute 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 ædile! ” he replied, in a firm and deep tone, “I shrink
not from this combat. For the honor 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 tyro! ”
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 compassionate emotion, which custom conquered the
moment the heart acknowledged it.
And now both, clad in complete armor, the sword drawn, the
visor 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
prætor by one of the attendants of the arena; he removed the
cincture glanced
it for moment — his countenance
betrayed surprise and embarrassment. 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 follies!
” — 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. Eumol-
pus had at first won their favor; but the gallantry of Lydon,
and his well-timed allusion to the honor of the Pompeiian lan-
ista, had afterward 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 per-
mit him to be slain no, nor the people neither: he has behaved
too bravely for that. Ha! that was a home thrust ! - well averted
by Pollux ! At him again, Lydon ! - they stop to breathe! What
art thou muttering, old boy? ”
“Prayers! ” answered Medon, with a more calm and hopeful
mien than he had yet maintained.
“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! ”
over
a
## p. 2715 (#279) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2715
There was a convulsive tremor throughout the assembly. A
fierce blow from Eumolpus, full on the crest, had brought Lydon
to his knee.
“ Habet! — he has it! ” cried a shrill 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.
«Be silent, child! ” said the wife of Pansa, haughtily. « Non
habet! — he is not wounded! ”
"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 valor, began to give way before the vigorous
assaults of the practiced 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 arm; thou hast propitiated
the editor and the mob — thou wilt 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 sud-
den and desperate effort, he threw himself fiercely on Eumolpus;
the Roman warily retreated — Lydon thrust again - Eumolpus
drew himself aside — the sword grazed his cuirass - Lydon's
breast was exposed — the Roman plunged his sword through the
joints of the armor, not meaning however to inflict a deep
wound; Lydon, weak and exhausted, fell forward, fell right on
the point; it passed through and through, even to the back.
Eumolpus drew forth his blade; Lydon still made an effort to
regain his balance - his sword left his grasp-he struck mechan-
ically at the gladiator with his naked hand and fell prostrate on
the arena. With one accord, ædile 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 savageness he had acquired in his calling
glared from
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 ædile nor on the pitying brows of the relenting
judges. He saw them not; they were as if the vast space was
## p. 2716 (#280) ###########################################
2716
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
desolate and bare; one pale agonizing face alone was all he
recognized one cry of a broken heart was all that, amid the
murmurs and the shouts of the populace, reached his ear. The
ferocity vanished from his brow; a soft, tender expression of
sanctifying but despairing filial love played over his features
played — waned — darkened! His face suddenly became locked
and rigid, resuming its former fierceness. He fell upon the earth.
"Look to him," said the ædile; "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 around the amphitheatre,
betrayed so much of disdain and scorn that whoever encountered
it felt his breath suddenly arrested, and his emotions frozen into
one sensation of abasement and of awe.
Again rich perfumes were wafted around the theatre; the
attendants sprinkled fresh sand over the arena.
« Bring forth the lion and Glaucus the Athenian,” said the
ædile.
And a deep and breathless hush of overwrought interest and
intense (yet strange to say not unpleasing) terror lay like a
mighty and awful dream over the assembly.
The door swung gratingly back — the gleam of spears shot
along the wall.
“Glaucus the Athenian, thy time has come,” said a loud and
clear voice; “the lion awaits thee. ”
"I am ready,” said the Athenian. «Brother and co-mate, one
last embrace !
Bless me
and farewell! )
The Christian opened his arms; he clasped the young heathen
to his breast; he kissed his forehead and cheek; he sobbed aloud;
his tears flowed fast and hot over the features of his new friend.
“Oh! could I have converted thee, I had not wept. Oh that
I might say to thee, We two shall sup this night in Paradise ! ) )
"It may be so yet,” answered the Greek with a tremulous
voice. “They whom death parts now may yet meet beyond the
grave; on the earth-oh! the beautiful, the beloved earth, fare.
well for ever! Worthy officer, I attend you. "
Glaucus tore himself away; and when he came forth into the
air, its breath, which though sunless was hot and arid, smote
witheringly upon him. His frame, not yet restored from the
## p. 2717 (#281) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2717
effects of the deadly draught, shrank and trembled. The officers
supported him.
"Courage! ” said one; “thou art young, active, well knit.
They give thee a weapon! despair not, and thou mayst yet con-
quer. ”
Glaucus did not reply; but ashamed of his infirmity, he made
a desperate and convulsive effort and regained the firmness of
his nerves. They anointed his body, completely naked save by a
cincture round the loins, placed the stilus (vain weapon ! ) in his
hand, and led him into the arena.
And now when the Greek saw the eyes of thousands and
tens of thousands upon him, he no longer felt that he was mor-
tal. All evidence of fear, all fear itself, was gone. A red and
haughty flush spread over the paleness of his features; he tow-
ered aloft to the full of his glorious stature. In the elastic
beauty of his limbs and form; in his intent but unfrowning
brow; in the high disdain and in the indomitable soul which
breathed visibly, which spoke audibly, from his attitude, his lip,
his eye,- he seemed the very incarnation, vivid and corporeal,
of the valor of his land; of the divinity of its worship: at once
a hero and a god!
The murmur of hatred and horror at his crime which had
greeted his entrance died into the silence of involuntary admira-
tion and half-compassionate respect; and with a quick and con-
vulsive sigh, that seemed to move the whole mass of life as if it
one body, the
gaze
of the spectators turned from the
Athenian to a dark uncouth object in the centre of the arena.
It was the grated den of the lion.
“By Venus, how warm it is! ” said Fulvia, “yet there is no
Would that those stupid sailors could have fastened up that
gap in the awning!
"Oh, it is warm indeed. I turn sick - I faint! ” said the wife
of Pansa; even her experienced stoicism giving way at the
struggle about to take place.
The lion had been kept without food for twenty-four hours,
and the animal had, during the whole morning, testified a singu-
lar and restless uneasiness, which the keeper had attributed to
the pangs of hunger. Yet its bearing seemed rather that of
fear than of rage; its roar was painful and distressed; it hung its
head-snuffed the air through the bars - then lay down--started
again - and again uttered its wild and far-resounding cries.
were
sun.
>>>
## p. 2718 (#282) ###########################################
2718
EDWARD BU'LWER-LYTTON
now in its den it lay utterly dumb and mute, with distended
nostrils forced hard against the grating, and disturbing, with a
heaving breath, the sand below on the arena.
The editor's lip quivered, and his cheek grew pale; he looked
anxiously around — hesitated - delayed; the crowd became impa-
tient. Slowly he gave the sign; the keeper, who was behind the
den, cautiously removed the grating, and the lion leaped forth
with a mighty and glad roar of release. The keeper hastily
retreated through the grated passage leading from the arena, and
left the lord of the forest — and his prey.
Glaucus had bent his limbs so as to give himself the firmest
posture at the expected rush of the lion, with his small and
shining weapon raised on high, in the faint hope that one well-
directed thrust (for he knew that he should have time but for
one) might penetrate through the eye to the brain of his grim foe.
But to the unutterable astonishment of all, the beast seemed
not even aware of the presence of the criminal.
At the first moment of its release it halted abruptly in the
arena, raised itself half on end, snuffing the upward air with
impatient signs, then suddenly it sprang forward, but not on the
Athenian. At half-speed it circled round and round the space,
turning its vast head from side to side with an anxious and per-
turbed gaze, as if seeking only some avenue of escape; once or
twice it endeavored to leap up the parapet that divided it from
the audience, and on falling, uttered rather a baffled howl than
its deep-toned and kingly roar. It evinced no sign either of
wrath or hunger; its tail drooped along the sand, instead of
lashing its gaunt sides; and its eye, though it wandered at times
to Glaucus, rolled again listlessly from him. At length, as if
tired of attempting to escape, it crept with a moan into its cage,
and once more laid itself down to rest.
The first surprise of the assembly at the apathy of the lion
soon grew converted into resentment at its cowardice; and the
populace already merged their pity for the fate of Glaucus into
angry compassion for their own disappointment.
The editor called to the keeper:- "How is this? Take the
goad, prick him forth, and then close the door of the den. ”
As the keeper, with some fear but more astonishment, was
preparing to obey, a loud cry was heard at one of the entrances
of the arena; there was a confusion, a bustle — voices of remon-
strance suddenly breaking forth, and suddenly silenced at the
## p. 2719 (#283) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2719
reply. All eyes turned in wonder at the interruption, toward the
quarter of the disturbance; the crowd gave way, and suddenly
Sallust appeared on the senatorial benches, his hair disheveled —
breathless — heated — half exhausted. He cast his eyes hastily
round the ring Remove the Athenian! ” he cried; haste- he
is innocent! Arrest Arbaces the Egyptian — he is the murderer
of Apæcides!
Art thou mad, O Sallust! ” said the prætor, rising from his
seat. “What means this raving ? ”
“Remove the Athenian! - Quick! or his blood be on your
head. Prætor, delay, and you answer with your own life to the
Emperor! I bring with me the eye-witness to the death of the
priest Apæcides. Room there, stand back, give way. People of
Pompeii, fix every eye upon Arbaces; there he sits! Room there
for the priest Calenus! ”
Pale, haggard, fresh from the jaws of famine and of death,
his face fallen, his eyes dull as a vulture's, his broad frame gaunt
as a skeleton, Calenus was supported into the very row in which
Arbaces sat. His releasers had given him sparingly of food; but
the chief sustenance that nerved his feeble limbs was revenge!
«The priest Calenus — Calenus! » cried the mob. It is he?
No— it is a dead man! »
"It is the priest Calenus,” said the prætor, gravely.
hast thou to say ? ”
«Arbaces of Egypt is the murderer of Apæcides, the priest of
Isis; these eyes saw him deal the blow. It is from the dungeon
into which he plunged me - it is from the darkness and horror
of a death by famine — that the gods have raised me to proclaim
his crime! Release the Athenian- he is innocent! »
“It is for this, then, that the lion spared him. A miracle! a
miracle ! » cried Pansa.
"A miracle! a miracle! ” shouted the people; “remove the
Athenian - Arbaces to the lion. ”
And that shout echoed from hill to vale from coast to sea
Arbaces to the lion.
“Officers, remove the accused Glaucus
-remove, but guard
him yet,” said the prætor. « The gods lavish their wonders upon
this day. ”
As the prætor gave the word of release, there was a cry of
joy: a female voice, a child's voice; and it was of joy! It rang
through the heart of the assembly with electric force; it was
( What
## p. 2720 (#284) ###########################################
2720
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
touching, it was holy, that child's voice. And the populace
echoed it back with sympathizing congratulation.
“Silence! ” said the grave prætor; «who is there ? ”
« The blind girl — Nydia,” answered Sallust; it is her hand
that has raised Calenus from the grave, and delivered Glaucus
from the lion. ”
"Of this hereafter,” said the prætor. "Calenus, priest of Isis,
thou accusest Arbaces of the murder of Apæcides ? »
«I do! ”
« Thou didst behold the deed ? »
« Prætor — with these eyes –
“Enough at present—the details must be reserved for more
suiting time and place. Arbaces of Egypt, thou hearest the
charge against thee — thou hast not yet spoken — what hast thou
to say? "
The gaze of the crowd had been long riveted on Arbaces;
but not until the confusion which he had betrayed at the first
charge of Sallust and the entrance of Calenus had subsided. At
the shout, “Arbaces to the lion! ” he had indeed trembled, and
the dark bronze of his cheek had taken a paler hue. But he
had soon recovered his haughtiness and self-control. Proudly he
returned the angry glare of the countless eyes around him; and
replying now to the question of the prætor, he said, in that ac-
cent so peculiarly tranquil and commanding which characterized
his tones:
"Prætor, this charge is so mad that it scarcely deserves reply.
My first accuser is the noble Sallust — the most intimate friend
of Glaucus! My second is a priest: I revere his garb and call-
ing - but, people of Pompeii! ye know somewhat of the charac-
ter of Calenus — he is griping and gold-thirsty to a proverb; the
witness of such men is to be bought! Prætor, I am innocent!
“ Sallust,” said the magistrate, “where found you Calenus ? ”
"In the dungeons of Arbaces. ”
“Egyptian," said the prætor, frowning, “thou didst, then, dare
to imprison a priest of the gods — and wherefore ? »
"Hear me,” answered Arbaces, rising calmly, but with agita-
tion visible in his face.
This man
came to threaten that he
would make against me the charge he has now made, unless I
would purchase his silence with half my fortune; I remonstrated
- in vain. Peace there - let not the priest interrupt me! Noble
prætor - and ye, O people! I was a stranger in the land - I
## p. 2721 (#285) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2721
knew myself innocent of crime — but the witness of a priest
against me might yet destroy me. In my perplexity I decoyed
him to the cell whence he has been released, on pretense that it
was the coffer-house of my gold. I resolved to detain him there
until the fate of the true criminal was sealed and his threats
could avail no longer; but I meant no worse.
I may have erred
- but who among ye will not acknowledge the equity of self-
preservation ? Were I guilty, why was the witness of this priest
silent at the trial ? — then I had not detained or concealed him.
Why did he not proclaim my guilt when I proclaimed that of
Glaucus ? Prætor, this needs an answer. For the rest, I throw
myself on your laws. I demand their protection. Remove hence
the accused and the accuser. I will willingly meet, and cheer-
fully abide by the decision of, the legitimate tribunal. This is
no place for further parley. "
“He says right,” said the prætor. “Ho! guards — remove
Arbaces - guard Calenus! Sallust, we hold you responsible for
your accusation.
Let the sports be resumed. ”
“What! ” cried Calenus, turning round to the people,
« shall
Isis be thus contemned ? Shall the blood of Apæcides yet cry
for vengeance? Shall justice be delayed now, that it may be
frustrated hereafter? Shall the lion be cheated of his lawful
prey?
spectacles of Pompeii, the reader of Roman history must limit
his imagination, nor expect to find those vast and wholesale
exhibitions of magnificent slaughter with which a Nero or a
Caligula regaled the inhabitants of the Imperial City. The
Roman shows, which absorbed the more celebrated gladiators
and the chief proportion of foreign beasts, were indeed the very
reason why in the lesser towns of the empire the sports of the
## p. 2707 (#271) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2707
amphitheatre were comparatively humane and rare; and in this
as in other respects, Pompeii was the miniature, the microcosm
of Rome. Still, it was an awful and imposing spectacle, with
which modern times have, happily, nothing to compare; a vast
theatre, rising row upon row, and swarming with human beings,
from fifteen to eighteen thousand in number, intent upon no
fictitious representation - no tragedy of the stage — but the actual
victory or defeat, the exultant life or the bloody death, of each
and all who entered the arena!
The two horsemen were now at either extremity of the lists
(if so they might be called), and at a given signal from Pansa
the combatants started simultaneously as in full collision, each
advancing his round buckler, each poising on high his sturdy
javelin; 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 antagonist spurred upon him. The
buckler of Nobilior, quickly and skillfully extended, received a
blow which otherwise would have been fatal.
“Well done, Nobilior! ” cried the prætor, giving the first vent
to the popular excitement.
"Bravely struck, my Berbix! » answered Clodius from his
seat.
And the wild murmur, swelled by many a shout, echoed from
side to side.
The visors of both the horsemen were completely closed (like
those of the knights in after times), but the head was neverthe-
less the great point of assault; and Nobilior, now wheeling his
charger with no less adroitness than his opponent, directed his
spear full on the helmet of his foe. 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.
## p. 2708 (#272) ###########################################
2708
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
"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 compassion 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
scatter new sand over the stage! Pansa regrets nothing more
than that he is not rich enough to strew 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 broad-
sword; 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 pointed 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
decided, and wait till fiercer weapons might replace the cestus
ere they themselves commenced hostilities. They stood leaning
on their arms and apart from each other, gazing on the show,
which, if not bloody enough thoroughly to please the populace,
they were still inclined to admire because its origin was of their
ancestral Greece.
No persons could at first glance have seemed less evenly
matched than the two antagonists. Tetraides, though no taller
than Lydon, weighed considerably 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 hereditary 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 meagre-
ness, was beautifully and delicately proportioned; and the skillful
might have perceived that with much less compass of muscle
than his foe, that which he had was more seasoned - iron and
## p. 2709 (#273) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2709
compact. In proportion, too, as he wanted flesh, he was likely
to possess activity; and a haughty smile on his resolute face,
which strongly contrasted with the solid heaviness of his enemy's,
gave assurance to those who beheld 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 thongs of leather round the arm as high as
the elbow, and terribly strengthened about the knuckles by a
plate of iron, and sometimes a plummet of lead. Yet this, which
was meant to increase, perhaps rather diminished, the interest of
the fray; 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, fortitude, and dogged per-
severance that we technically 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! ” growled Tetraides, moving nearer and
nearer to his foe, who rather shifted round him than receded.
Lydon did not answer, save by a scornful glance of his quick,
vigilant eye.
Tetraides struck - it was as the blow of a smith
on a vise; Lydon sank suddenly on one knee - the blow passed
over his head. Not so harmless was Lydon's retaliation; he
quickly sprang to his feet, and aimed his cestus full on the
broad chest 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
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 dextrously he avoids those hammer-
like hands! - dodging now here, now there— circling round and
round. Ah, poor Lydon! he has it again. ”
case.
## p. 2710 (#274) ###########################################
2710
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
« Three to one still on Tetraides! What say you, Lepidus ? »
“Well — nine sestertia to three - be it so!
so! What! again
Lydon. He stops — he gasps 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 a lynx's! ” said Clodius, between his teeth.
"Ha, Clodius! saw you that ? Your man
totters! Another
blow- he falls — he falls ! »
“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. ”
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 stifling interest. The aged father of Lydon,
despite his Christian horror of the spectacle, in his agonized
anxiety for his son had not been able to resist being the spec-
tator of his fate. Once amid a fierce crowd of strangers, the
lowest rabble 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 victorious; unconscious,
alas! of the more fearful battle to which that victory was but a
prelude.
“My gallant boy! ” said he, and wiped his eyes.
"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 bent down, with strain-
ing eyes and clasped hands, to view the encounter.
## p. 2711 (#275) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2711
The first interest was attracted toward the combat of Niger
with Sporus; for this spectacle of contest, from the fatal result
which usually attended it, and from the great science it required
in either antagonist, was always peculiarly inviting to the spec-
tators.
They stood at a considerable distance from each other. The
singular helmet which Sporus wore (the visor of which was down)
concealed his face; but the features of Niger attracted a fearful
and universal interest from their compressed and vigilant fero-
city. Thus they stood for some moments, each eying each, until
Sporus began slowly and with great caution to advance, hold-
ing his sword pointed, like a modern fencer's, at the breast of his
foe. Niger retreated as his antagonist advanced, gathering up
his net with his right hand and never taking his small, glitter-
ing 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 snare; 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 around 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 onset 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 charac-
terizes men well experienced and equally matched. But at this
moment Eumolpus, the elder gladiator, by that dextrous back-
stroke which was considered in the arena so difficult to avoid,
had wounded Nepimus in the side. The people shouted; Lepidus
turned pale.
* So called from the office of that tribe of gladiators in following the foe
the moment the net was cast, in order to smite him ere he could have time
to re-arrange it.
## p. 2712 (#276) ###########################################
2712
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
«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 dice ? groaned Clodius to
himself; — “or why cannot one cog a gladiator ? ”
"A Sporus! - a Sporus! ” shouted the populace, as Niger, now
having suddenly paused, had again cast his net, and again un-
successfully. He had not retreated this time with sufficient
agility — the sword of Sporus had inflicted 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
steadily keeping his trident at the front of his foe, he repelled
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.
moment more the deadly net was cast over him,- he struggled
against its meshes in vain; again – again – again he writhed
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 judgment. 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 unpity-
ing eyes.
Hushed was the roar the murmur! The silence was dread,
for in 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 com-
bat had been excited on behalf of the wounded Niger. The
people were warmed into blood the mimic fight had ceased to
charm; the interest had mounted up to the desire of sacrifice and
the thirst of death!
In a
1
1
.
1
## p. 2713 (#277) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2713
The gladiator felt that his doom was sealed; he uttered no
prayer - no groan. The people gave the signal of death! In
dogged but agonized submission he bent his neck to receive the
fatal stroke. And now, as the spear of the retiarius was not a
weapon to inflict instant and certain death, there stalked into the
arena a grim and fatal form, brandishing a short, sharp sword,
and with features utterly concealed beneath its visor. With slow
and measured step this dismal headsman approached the gladi-
ator, still kneeling — laid the left hand on his humbled crest
drew the edge of the blade across his neck — turned round to the
assembly, lest, in the last moment, remorse 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 corpse.
His body was dragged at once from the arena through the
gate of death, and thrown into the gloomy den termed technically
the “spoliarium. ” And ere it had well reached that destination
the strife 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 recep-
tacle of the slain.
Throughout that mighty assembly there now ran a universal
movement; the people breathed more freely and settled them-
selves 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 admiration. He was fresh, unwounded, unfatigued.
The ædile paused, and proclaimed aloud that as Niger's
wound disabled him from again entering the arena, Lydon was
to be the successor to the slaughtered 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
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 stipulated prize. ”
The people shouted applause. Lydon stood in the lists; he
gazed around; high above he beheld the pale face, the straining
So.
## p. 2714 (#278) ###########################################
2714
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
eyes of his father. He turned away irresolute 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 ædile! ” he replied, in a firm and deep tone, “I shrink
not from this combat. For the honor 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 tyro! ”
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 compassionate emotion, which custom conquered the
moment the heart acknowledged it.
And now both, clad in complete armor, the sword drawn, the
visor 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
prætor by one of the attendants of the arena; he removed the
cincture glanced
it for moment — his countenance
betrayed surprise and embarrassment. 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 follies!
” — 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. Eumol-
pus had at first won their favor; but the gallantry of Lydon,
and his well-timed allusion to the honor of the Pompeiian lan-
ista, had afterward 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 per-
mit him to be slain no, nor the people neither: he has behaved
too bravely for that. Ha! that was a home thrust ! - well averted
by Pollux ! At him again, Lydon ! - they stop to breathe! What
art thou muttering, old boy? ”
“Prayers! ” answered Medon, with a more calm and hopeful
mien than he had yet maintained.
“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! ”
over
a
## p. 2715 (#279) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2715
There was a convulsive tremor throughout the assembly. A
fierce blow from Eumolpus, full on the crest, had brought Lydon
to his knee.
“ Habet! — he has it! ” cried a shrill 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.
«Be silent, child! ” said the wife of Pansa, haughtily. « Non
habet! — he is not wounded! ”
"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 valor, began to give way before the vigorous
assaults of the practiced 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 arm; thou hast propitiated
the editor and the mob — thou wilt 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 sud-
den and desperate effort, he threw himself fiercely on Eumolpus;
the Roman warily retreated — Lydon thrust again - Eumolpus
drew himself aside — the sword grazed his cuirass - Lydon's
breast was exposed — the Roman plunged his sword through the
joints of the armor, not meaning however to inflict a deep
wound; Lydon, weak and exhausted, fell forward, fell right on
the point; it passed through and through, even to the back.
Eumolpus drew forth his blade; Lydon still made an effort to
regain his balance - his sword left his grasp-he struck mechan-
ically at the gladiator with his naked hand and fell prostrate on
the arena. With one accord, ædile 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 savageness he had acquired in his calling
glared from
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 ædile nor on the pitying brows of the relenting
judges. He saw them not; they were as if the vast space was
## p. 2716 (#280) ###########################################
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EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
desolate and bare; one pale agonizing face alone was all he
recognized one cry of a broken heart was all that, amid the
murmurs and the shouts of the populace, reached his ear. The
ferocity vanished from his brow; a soft, tender expression of
sanctifying but despairing filial love played over his features
played — waned — darkened! His face suddenly became locked
and rigid, resuming its former fierceness. He fell upon the earth.
"Look to him," said the ædile; "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 around the amphitheatre,
betrayed so much of disdain and scorn that whoever encountered
it felt his breath suddenly arrested, and his emotions frozen into
one sensation of abasement and of awe.
Again rich perfumes were wafted around the theatre; the
attendants sprinkled fresh sand over the arena.
« Bring forth the lion and Glaucus the Athenian,” said the
ædile.
And a deep and breathless hush of overwrought interest and
intense (yet strange to say not unpleasing) terror lay like a
mighty and awful dream over the assembly.
The door swung gratingly back — the gleam of spears shot
along the wall.
“Glaucus the Athenian, thy time has come,” said a loud and
clear voice; “the lion awaits thee. ”
"I am ready,” said the Athenian. «Brother and co-mate, one
last embrace !
Bless me
and farewell! )
The Christian opened his arms; he clasped the young heathen
to his breast; he kissed his forehead and cheek; he sobbed aloud;
his tears flowed fast and hot over the features of his new friend.
“Oh! could I have converted thee, I had not wept. Oh that
I might say to thee, We two shall sup this night in Paradise ! ) )
"It may be so yet,” answered the Greek with a tremulous
voice. “They whom death parts now may yet meet beyond the
grave; on the earth-oh! the beautiful, the beloved earth, fare.
well for ever! Worthy officer, I attend you. "
Glaucus tore himself away; and when he came forth into the
air, its breath, which though sunless was hot and arid, smote
witheringly upon him. His frame, not yet restored from the
## p. 2717 (#281) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2717
effects of the deadly draught, shrank and trembled. The officers
supported him.
"Courage! ” said one; “thou art young, active, well knit.
They give thee a weapon! despair not, and thou mayst yet con-
quer. ”
Glaucus did not reply; but ashamed of his infirmity, he made
a desperate and convulsive effort and regained the firmness of
his nerves. They anointed his body, completely naked save by a
cincture round the loins, placed the stilus (vain weapon ! ) in his
hand, and led him into the arena.
And now when the Greek saw the eyes of thousands and
tens of thousands upon him, he no longer felt that he was mor-
tal. All evidence of fear, all fear itself, was gone. A red and
haughty flush spread over the paleness of his features; he tow-
ered aloft to the full of his glorious stature. In the elastic
beauty of his limbs and form; in his intent but unfrowning
brow; in the high disdain and in the indomitable soul which
breathed visibly, which spoke audibly, from his attitude, his lip,
his eye,- he seemed the very incarnation, vivid and corporeal,
of the valor of his land; of the divinity of its worship: at once
a hero and a god!
The murmur of hatred and horror at his crime which had
greeted his entrance died into the silence of involuntary admira-
tion and half-compassionate respect; and with a quick and con-
vulsive sigh, that seemed to move the whole mass of life as if it
one body, the
gaze
of the spectators turned from the
Athenian to a dark uncouth object in the centre of the arena.
It was the grated den of the lion.
“By Venus, how warm it is! ” said Fulvia, “yet there is no
Would that those stupid sailors could have fastened up that
gap in the awning!
"Oh, it is warm indeed. I turn sick - I faint! ” said the wife
of Pansa; even her experienced stoicism giving way at the
struggle about to take place.
The lion had been kept without food for twenty-four hours,
and the animal had, during the whole morning, testified a singu-
lar and restless uneasiness, which the keeper had attributed to
the pangs of hunger. Yet its bearing seemed rather that of
fear than of rage; its roar was painful and distressed; it hung its
head-snuffed the air through the bars - then lay down--started
again - and again uttered its wild and far-resounding cries.
were
sun.
>>>
## p. 2718 (#282) ###########################################
2718
EDWARD BU'LWER-LYTTON
now in its den it lay utterly dumb and mute, with distended
nostrils forced hard against the grating, and disturbing, with a
heaving breath, the sand below on the arena.
The editor's lip quivered, and his cheek grew pale; he looked
anxiously around — hesitated - delayed; the crowd became impa-
tient. Slowly he gave the sign; the keeper, who was behind the
den, cautiously removed the grating, and the lion leaped forth
with a mighty and glad roar of release. The keeper hastily
retreated through the grated passage leading from the arena, and
left the lord of the forest — and his prey.
Glaucus had bent his limbs so as to give himself the firmest
posture at the expected rush of the lion, with his small and
shining weapon raised on high, in the faint hope that one well-
directed thrust (for he knew that he should have time but for
one) might penetrate through the eye to the brain of his grim foe.
But to the unutterable astonishment of all, the beast seemed
not even aware of the presence of the criminal.
At the first moment of its release it halted abruptly in the
arena, raised itself half on end, snuffing the upward air with
impatient signs, then suddenly it sprang forward, but not on the
Athenian. At half-speed it circled round and round the space,
turning its vast head from side to side with an anxious and per-
turbed gaze, as if seeking only some avenue of escape; once or
twice it endeavored to leap up the parapet that divided it from
the audience, and on falling, uttered rather a baffled howl than
its deep-toned and kingly roar. It evinced no sign either of
wrath or hunger; its tail drooped along the sand, instead of
lashing its gaunt sides; and its eye, though it wandered at times
to Glaucus, rolled again listlessly from him. At length, as if
tired of attempting to escape, it crept with a moan into its cage,
and once more laid itself down to rest.
The first surprise of the assembly at the apathy of the lion
soon grew converted into resentment at its cowardice; and the
populace already merged their pity for the fate of Glaucus into
angry compassion for their own disappointment.
The editor called to the keeper:- "How is this? Take the
goad, prick him forth, and then close the door of the den. ”
As the keeper, with some fear but more astonishment, was
preparing to obey, a loud cry was heard at one of the entrances
of the arena; there was a confusion, a bustle — voices of remon-
strance suddenly breaking forth, and suddenly silenced at the
## p. 2719 (#283) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2719
reply. All eyes turned in wonder at the interruption, toward the
quarter of the disturbance; the crowd gave way, and suddenly
Sallust appeared on the senatorial benches, his hair disheveled —
breathless — heated — half exhausted. He cast his eyes hastily
round the ring Remove the Athenian! ” he cried; haste- he
is innocent! Arrest Arbaces the Egyptian — he is the murderer
of Apæcides!
Art thou mad, O Sallust! ” said the prætor, rising from his
seat. “What means this raving ? ”
“Remove the Athenian! - Quick! or his blood be on your
head. Prætor, delay, and you answer with your own life to the
Emperor! I bring with me the eye-witness to the death of the
priest Apæcides. Room there, stand back, give way. People of
Pompeii, fix every eye upon Arbaces; there he sits! Room there
for the priest Calenus! ”
Pale, haggard, fresh from the jaws of famine and of death,
his face fallen, his eyes dull as a vulture's, his broad frame gaunt
as a skeleton, Calenus was supported into the very row in which
Arbaces sat. His releasers had given him sparingly of food; but
the chief sustenance that nerved his feeble limbs was revenge!
«The priest Calenus — Calenus! » cried the mob. It is he?
No— it is a dead man! »
"It is the priest Calenus,” said the prætor, gravely.
hast thou to say ? ”
«Arbaces of Egypt is the murderer of Apæcides, the priest of
Isis; these eyes saw him deal the blow. It is from the dungeon
into which he plunged me - it is from the darkness and horror
of a death by famine — that the gods have raised me to proclaim
his crime! Release the Athenian- he is innocent! »
“It is for this, then, that the lion spared him. A miracle! a
miracle ! » cried Pansa.
"A miracle! a miracle! ” shouted the people; “remove the
Athenian - Arbaces to the lion. ”
And that shout echoed from hill to vale from coast to sea
Arbaces to the lion.
“Officers, remove the accused Glaucus
-remove, but guard
him yet,” said the prætor. « The gods lavish their wonders upon
this day. ”
As the prætor gave the word of release, there was a cry of
joy: a female voice, a child's voice; and it was of joy! It rang
through the heart of the assembly with electric force; it was
( What
## p. 2720 (#284) ###########################################
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EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
touching, it was holy, that child's voice. And the populace
echoed it back with sympathizing congratulation.
“Silence! ” said the grave prætor; «who is there ? ”
« The blind girl — Nydia,” answered Sallust; it is her hand
that has raised Calenus from the grave, and delivered Glaucus
from the lion. ”
"Of this hereafter,” said the prætor. "Calenus, priest of Isis,
thou accusest Arbaces of the murder of Apæcides ? »
«I do! ”
« Thou didst behold the deed ? »
« Prætor — with these eyes –
“Enough at present—the details must be reserved for more
suiting time and place. Arbaces of Egypt, thou hearest the
charge against thee — thou hast not yet spoken — what hast thou
to say? "
The gaze of the crowd had been long riveted on Arbaces;
but not until the confusion which he had betrayed at the first
charge of Sallust and the entrance of Calenus had subsided. At
the shout, “Arbaces to the lion! ” he had indeed trembled, and
the dark bronze of his cheek had taken a paler hue. But he
had soon recovered his haughtiness and self-control. Proudly he
returned the angry glare of the countless eyes around him; and
replying now to the question of the prætor, he said, in that ac-
cent so peculiarly tranquil and commanding which characterized
his tones:
"Prætor, this charge is so mad that it scarcely deserves reply.
My first accuser is the noble Sallust — the most intimate friend
of Glaucus! My second is a priest: I revere his garb and call-
ing - but, people of Pompeii! ye know somewhat of the charac-
ter of Calenus — he is griping and gold-thirsty to a proverb; the
witness of such men is to be bought! Prætor, I am innocent!
“ Sallust,” said the magistrate, “where found you Calenus ? ”
"In the dungeons of Arbaces. ”
“Egyptian," said the prætor, frowning, “thou didst, then, dare
to imprison a priest of the gods — and wherefore ? »
"Hear me,” answered Arbaces, rising calmly, but with agita-
tion visible in his face.
This man
came to threaten that he
would make against me the charge he has now made, unless I
would purchase his silence with half my fortune; I remonstrated
- in vain. Peace there - let not the priest interrupt me! Noble
prætor - and ye, O people! I was a stranger in the land - I
## p. 2721 (#285) ###########################################
EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
2721
knew myself innocent of crime — but the witness of a priest
against me might yet destroy me. In my perplexity I decoyed
him to the cell whence he has been released, on pretense that it
was the coffer-house of my gold. I resolved to detain him there
until the fate of the true criminal was sealed and his threats
could avail no longer; but I meant no worse.
I may have erred
- but who among ye will not acknowledge the equity of self-
preservation ? Were I guilty, why was the witness of this priest
silent at the trial ? — then I had not detained or concealed him.
Why did he not proclaim my guilt when I proclaimed that of
Glaucus ? Prætor, this needs an answer. For the rest, I throw
myself on your laws. I demand their protection. Remove hence
the accused and the accuser. I will willingly meet, and cheer-
fully abide by the decision of, the legitimate tribunal. This is
no place for further parley. "
“He says right,” said the prætor. “Ho! guards — remove
Arbaces - guard Calenus! Sallust, we hold you responsible for
your accusation.
Let the sports be resumed. ”
“What! ” cried Calenus, turning round to the people,
« shall
Isis be thus contemned ? Shall the blood of Apæcides yet cry
for vengeance? Shall justice be delayed now, that it may be
frustrated hereafter? Shall the lion be cheated of his lawful
prey?
