The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER XX

  THE TRIDENT AND THE NET

  But a shout was ringing through the amphitheatre that roused the Jewishmaiden effectually to the business of the day. It had begun in some far-off corner, with a mere whispered muttering, and had been taken up byspectator after spectator, till it swelled into a wild and deafening roar."A Patrician! a Patrician!" vociferated the crowd, thirsting fiercely forfresh excitement, and palled with the vulgar carnage, yearning to see thered blood flow from some scion of an illustrious house. The tumult soonreached such a height as to compel the attention of Vitellius, whosummoned Hippias to his chair, and whispered a few sentences in his ear.This somewhat calmed the excitement; and while the fencing-master'sexertions cleared the arena of the dead and wounded, with whom it wasencumbered, a general stir might have been observed throughout theassemblage, while each individual changed his position, and disposedhimself more comfortably for sight-seeing, as is the custom of a crowdwhen anything of especial interest is about to take place. Ere longDamasippus and Oarses were observed to applaud loudly; and their examplebeing followed by thousands of imitators, the clapping of hands, thestamping of feet, the cheers, and other vociferations rose with redoubledvigour, while Julius Placidus stepped gracefully into the centre of thearena, and made his obeisance to the crowd with his usual easy andsomewhat insolent bearing.

  The tribune's appearance was well calculated to excite the admiration ofthe spectators, no mean judges of the human form, accustomed as they wereto scan and criticise it in its highest state of perfection. His gracefulfigure was naked and unarmed, save for a white linen tunic reaching to theknee, and although he wore rings of gold round his ankles, his feet werebare to ensure the necessary speed and activity demanded by his mode ofattack. His long dark locks, carefully curled and perfumed for theoccasion, and bound by a single golden fillet, floated carelessly over hisneck, while his left shoulder was tastefully draped, as it were, by thefolds of the dangling net, sprinkled and weighted with small leaden beads,and so disposed as to be whirled away at once without entanglement ordelay upon its deadly errand. His right hand grasped the trident, a three-pronged lance, some seven feet in length, capable of inflicting a fatalwound; and the flourish with which he made it quiver round his headdisplayed a practised arm and a perfect knowledge of the offensive weapon.

  To the shouts which greeted him--"Placidus! Placidus!" "Hail to thetribune!" "Well done the patrician order!" and other such demonstrationsof welcome--he replied by bowing repeatedly, especially directing hiscourtesies to that portion of the amphitheatre in which Valeria wasplaced. With all his acuteness, little did the tribune guess how hatefulhe was at this moment to the very woman on whose behalf he was pledged toengage in mortal strife--little did he dream how earnest were her vows forhis speedy humiliation and defeat. Valeria, sitting there with the redspots burning a deeper crimson in her cheeks, and her noble features setin a mask of stone, would have asked nothing better than to have leaptdown from her seat, snatched up sword and buckler, of which she well knewthe use, and done battle with him, then and there to the death.

  The tribune now walked proudly round the arena, nodding familiarly to hisfriends, a proceeding which called forth raptures of applause fromDamasippus, Oarses, and other of his clients and freedmen. He halted underthe chair of Caesar, and saluted the Emperor with marked deference; then,taking up a conspicuous position in the centre, and leaning on histrident, seemed to await the arrival of his antagonist. He was not keptlong in suspense. With his eyes riveted on Valeria, he observed the fixedcolour of her cheeks gradually suffusing face, neck, and bosom, to leaveher as pale as marble when it faded, and turning round he beheld hisenemy, marshalled into the lists by Hippias and Hirpinus--the latter, whohad slain his man, thus finding himself at liberty to afford counsel andcountenance to his young friend. The shouts which greeted the new-comerwere neither so long nor so lasting as those that did honour to thetribune; nevertheless, if the interest excited by each were to becalculated by intensity rather than amount, the slave's suffrages wouldhave far exceeded those of his adversary.

  Mariamne's whole heart was in her eyes as she welcomed the glance ofrecognition he directed exclusively to her; and Valeria, turning from oneto the other, felt a bitter pang shoot to her very marrow, as sheinstinctively acknowledged the existence of a rival. Even at that momentof hideous suspense, a host of maddening feelings rushed through the Romanlady's brain. Many a sunburnt peasant woman, jostled and bewildered in thecrowd, envied that sumptuous dame with her place apart, her statelybeauty, her rich apparel, and her blazing jewels; but the peasant womanwould have rued the exchange had she been forced to take, with theseadvantages, the passions that were laying waste Valeria's heart. Woundedpride, slighted love, doubt, fear, vacillation, and remorse, are none themore endurable for being clothed in costly raiment, and trapped out withgems and gold. While Mariamne, in her singleness of heart, had but onegreat and deadly fear--that he should fail--Valeria found room for athousand anxieties and misgivings, of conflicting tendencies, and chafedunder a distressing consciousness that she could not satisfy herself whatit was she most dreaded or desired.

  Unprejudiced and uninterested spectators, however, had but one opinion asto the chances of the Briton's success. If anything could have added tothe enthusiasm called forth by the appearance of Placidus, it was thepatrician's selection of so formidable an antagonist. Esca, making hisobeisance to Caesar, in the pride of his powerful form, and the bloom ofhis youth and beauty, armed, moreover, with helmet, shield, and sword,which he carried with the ease of one habituated to their use, appeared asinvincible a champion as could have been chosen from the whole RomanEmpire. Even Hirpinus, albeit a man experienced in the uncertainties ofsuch contests, and cautious, if not in giving, at least in backing hisopinion, whispered to Hippias that the patrician looked like a mere childby the side of their pupil, and offered to wager a flagon of the bestFalernian "that he was carried out of the arena feet foremost within fiveminutes after the first attack, if he missed his throw!" To which thefencing-master, true to his habits of reticence and assumed superiority,vouchsafed no reply save a contemptuous smile.

  The adversaries took up their ground with exceeding caution. No advantageof sun or wind was allowed to either, and having been placed by Hippias ata distance of ten yards apart in the middle of the arena, neither moved alimb for several seconds, as they stood intently watching each other,themselves the centre on which all eyes were fixed. It was remarked thatwhile Esca's open brow bore only a look of calm resolute attention, therewas an evil smile of malice stamped, as it were, upon the tribune'sface--the one seemed an apt representation of Courage and Strength--theother of Hatred and Skill.

  "He carries the front of a conqueror," whispered Licinius to hiskinswoman, regarding his slave with looks of anxious approval. "Trust me,Valeria, we shall win the day. Esca will gain his freedom; the gildedchariot and the white horses shall bring him and me to your door to-morrowmorning, and that gaudy tribune will have had a lesson, that I for oneshall not be sorry to have been the means of bestowing on him."

  A bright smile lighted up Valeria's face, but she looked from the speakerto a dark-haired girl in the crowd below, and the expression of hercountenance changed till it grew as forbidding as the tribune's, while shereplied with a careless laugh----

  "I care not who wins now, Licinius, since they are both in the lists. Totell the truth, I did but fear the courage of this Titan of yours mightfail him at the last moment, and the match would not be fought out afterall. Hippias tells me the tribune is the best netsman he ever trained."

  He looked at her with a vague surprise; but following the direction of hiskinswoman's eyes, he could not but remark the obvious distress andagitation of the cloaked figure on which they were bent. Mariamne, whenshe saw the Briton fairly placed, front to front with his adversary, hadneither strength nor courage for more. Leaning against Calchas, the poorgirl hid her face in her hands and wep
t as if her heart would break.

  Myrrhina, who no more than her mistress could have borne to be absent fromsuch a spectacle, had forced her way into the crowd, accompanied by a fewof Valeria's favourite slaves. Standing within three paces of the Jewess,that voluble damsel expatiated loudly on the appearance of the combatants,and her careless jests and sarcasms cut Mariamne to the quick. It waspainful to hear her lover's personal qualities canvassed as though he weresome handsome beast of prey, and his chance of life and death balancedwith heartless nicety by the flippant tongue of a waiting-maid; but therewas yet a deeper sting in store for her even than this. Myrrhina, havinggot an audience, was nothing loth to profit by their attention.

  "I'm sure," said she, "whichever way the match goes I don't know what mymistress will do. As for the tribune, he would get out of his chariot anyday on the bare stones to kiss the very ground she walks on; and yet, ifhe dare so much as to leave a scratch upon that handsome youth's skin, heneed never come to our doors again. Why, time after time have I huntedthat boy all over the city to bring him home with me. And it's no lightmatter for a slave and a barbarian to have won the favour of the proudestlady in Rome. See how he looks up at her now, before they begin!"

  The light words wounded very sore; and Mariamne raised her head for oneglance at the Briton, half in fond appeal, half to protest, as it were,against the slander she had heard. What she saw, however, left no room inher loving heart for any feeling save intense horror and suspense.

  With his eye fixed on his adversary, Esca was advancing, inch by inch,like a tiger about to spring. Covering the lower part of his face and mostof his body with his buckler, and holding his short two-edged sword withbended arm and threatening point, he crouched to at least a foot lowerthan his natural stature, and seemed to have every muscle and sinewbraced, to dash in like lightning when the opportunity offered. A falsemovement, he well knew, would be fatal, and the difficulty was to come toclose quarters, as, directly he was within a certain distance, the deadlycast was sure to be made. Placidus, on the other hand, stood perfectlymotionless. His eye was unusually accurate, and he could trust hispractised arm to whirl the net abroad at the exact moment when its sweepwould be irresistible. So he remained in the same collected attitude, histrident shifted into the left hand, his right foot advanced, his right armwrapped in the gathered folds of the net which hung across his body, andcovered the whole of his left side and shoulder. Once he tried a scornfulgibe and smile to draw his enemy from his guard, but in vain; and thoughEsca, in return, made a feint with the same object, the former's attituderemained immovable, and the latter's snake-like advance continued withincreasing caution and vigilance.

  An inch beyond the fatal distance, Esca halted once more. For severalseconds the combatants thus stood at bay, and the hundred thousandspectators crowded into that spacious amphitheatre held their breath, andwatched them like one man.

  At length the Briton made a false attack, prepared to spring backimmediately and foil the netsman's throw, but the wily tribune was not tobe deceived, and the only result was that, without appearing to shift hisground, he moved an arm's length nearer his adversary. Then the Britondashed in, and this time in fierce earnest. Foot, hand, and eye, alltogether, and so rapidly, that the tribune's throw flew harmless over hisassailant's head, Placidus only avoiding his deadly thrust by the cat-likeactivity with which he leaped aside; then, turning round, he scouredacross the arena for life, gathering his net for a fresh cast as he flew."Coward!" hissed Valeria, between her set teeth; while Mariamne breathedonce more--nay, her bosom panted, and her eye sparkled with something liketriumph at the approaching climax.

  She was premature, however, in her satisfaction, and Valeria's disdain wasalso undeserved. Though apparently flying for his life, Placidus was ascool and brave at that moment as when he entered the arena. Ear and eyewere alike on the watch for the slightest false movement on the part ofhis pursuer; and ere he had half crossed the lists, his net was gatheredup, and folded with deadly precision once more.

  The tribune especially prided himself on his speed of foot. It was on thisquality that he chiefly depended for safety in a contest which at firstsight appeared so unequal. He argued from the great strength of hisadversary, that the latter would not be so pre-eminent in activity ashimself; but he omitted to calculate the effects of a youth spent in thedaily labours of the chase amongst the woods and mountains of Britain.Those following feet had many a time run down the wild goat over itsnative rocks. Faster and faster fly the combatants, to the intense delightof the crowd, who specially affect this kind of combat for the pastime itthus affords. Speedy as is the tribune, his foe draws nearer and nearer,and now, close to where Mariamne stands with Calchas, he is within astride of his antagonist. His arm is up to strike! when a woman's shriekrings through the amphitheatre, startling Vitellius on his throne, and thesword flies aimlessly from the Briton's grasp as he falls forward on hisface, and the impetus rolls him over and over in the sand.

  There is no chance for him now. He is scarcely down ere the net whirlsround him, and he is fatally and helplessly entangled in its folds.Mariamne gazes stupefied on the prostrate form, with stony face and afixed unmeaning stare. Valeria springs to her feet in a sudden impulse,forgetting for the moment where she is.

  Placidus, striding over his fallen enemy with his trident raised, and theold sneering smile deepening and hardening on his face, observed the causeof his downfall, and inwardly congratulated himself on the lucky chancewhich had alone prevented their positions being reversed. The blood wasstreaming from a wound in Esca's foot. It will be remembered that whereManlius fell, his sword was buried under him in the sand. On removing hisdead body the weapon escaped observation, and the Briton, treading in hothaste on the very spot where it lay concealed, had not only been severelylacerated, but tripped up and brought to the ground by the snare.

  All this flashed through the conqueror's mind, as he stood erect, preparedto deal a blow that should close all accounts, and looked up to Valeriafor the fatal sign.

  Maddened with rage and jealousy; sick, bewildered, and scarcely consciousof her actions, the Roman lady was about to give it, when Licinius seizedher arms and held them down by force. Then, with a numerous party offriends and clients, he made a strong demonstration in favour of mercy.The speed of foot, too, displayed by the vanquished, and the obvious causeof his discomfiture, acted favourably on the majority of spectators. Suchan array of hands turned outwards and pointing to the earth met thetribune's eye, that he could not but forbear his cruel purpose, so he gavehis weapon to one of the attendants who had now entered the arena, tookhis cloak from the hands of another, and, with a graceful bow to thespectators, turned scornfully away from his fallen foe.

  Esca, expecting nothing less than immediate death, had his eyes fixed onthe drooping figure of Mariamne; but the poor girl had seen nothing sincehis fall. Her last moment of consciousness showed her a cloud of dust, aconfused mass of twine, and an ominous figure with arm raised in act tostrike; then barriers and arena, and eager faces and white garments, andthe whole amphitheatre, pillars, sand, and sky, reeled ere they faded intodarkness; sense and sight failed her at the same moment, and she faintedhelplessly in her kinsman's arms.

  *ANTEROS*