"How I shall rejoice!" panted Astarte, who rarely spoke. Modigisel looked at her with an expression almost of horror.
"Gladiators!" cried Thrasaric, wrathfully. "Eugenia, do you want to go away?"
"I will shut my eyes--and stay. Only let me remain with you! Do not send me from you--I beseech!"
The roll of drums was heard, and a cry of astonishment from thousands of voices filled the Amphitheatre. The arena suddenly divided, moving to the right and left, in two semi-circles which, drawn sideways, disappeared in the walls. Twenty feet below, a second space, covered with sand, appeared, and over this poured from every direction, foaming and dashing, a flood of seething water. The bottom was swiftly transformed into a lake. Then two wide gateways at the right and left opened, and toward each other swept, fully manned and equipped for battle, two stately war-ships with lofty masts. These vessels, it is true, carried no sails, for there was no wind in the walled enclosure, but they were supplied with archers and slingers.
"Aha! a naumachia! A naval battle! Capital! Glorious!" shouted the spectators.
"Look, a Byzantine trireme!"
"And a Vandal corsair ship! How the scarlet flag glows!"
"And above it, at the mast-head, the golden dragon."
"The Vandal is attacking! Where are the rowers?"
"Out of sight. They are working under the deck. But above--look, in front, on the prow, stand the crew with spears and axes uplifted!"