“You mean that long-legged lad with the mop of light hair?” said Placidus contemptuously. “I have seen him. I call him a boy, not a man.”
Licinius felt somewhat irritated. He did not particularly like his company; and between two such opposite natures as his own and the tribune’s there existed a certain hidden repugnance, which was sure sooner or later to break forth. He answered angrily—
“I will match him against any one you can produce to run, leap, wrestle, throw the quoit, and swim.”
“Those are a boy’s accomplishments,” retorted the other coolly. “What I maintain is this, that, whether from want of courage or skill or both, these islanders are of no use with the steel. I would wish no better sport than to fight him myself in the arena, with the permission of Cæsar”—and the tribune bowed gracefully to his imperial host, who looked [pg 113]from one to the other of the disputants, without the slightest apparent interest in their discussion.
At this period of the Empire, when, although manners had become utterly dissolute, something was still left of the old audacity that had made the Roman a conqueror wherever he planted his foot, it was by no means unusual for men of patrician rank to appear in their own proper persons, a spectacle for the vulgar, in the amphitheatre. It was, perhaps, not unnatural that a desire for imitation should at last be aroused by the excessive fondness for these games of bloodshed, which pervaded all classes of the community. We have nothing in modern times that can at all convey to us the passion of the Roman citizen for the amusements of his circus. They were as necessary to his existence as daily bread. Panem et Circenses had passed into a familiar proverb. He would leave his home, neglect his business, forfeit his bath, to sit for hours on the benches of the amphitheatre, exposed to heat and crowding, and every sort of inconvenience, and would bring his food with him rather than run the risk of losing his place. And all this to see trained gladiators shedding each other’s blood, wild beasts tearing foreign captives limb from limb, and imitation battles which differed in no respect from real, save that the wounded were not spared, and the slaughter consequently far greater in proportion to the number of combatants engaged. If a statesman wished to court popularity, if an emperor desired to blot out a whole page of enormities and crimes, he had but to give the people one of these free entertainments of blood—the more victims the better—and they were ready to approve of any measure, and to pardon any atrocity.
Ere long some fierce spirits panted to take part in the sports they so loved to contemplate; and the disgraceful exhibition ceased to be confined to hireling gladiators or condemned slaves. Knights and patricians entered the arena, to contend for the praises of the vulgar; and the noblest blood in Rome was shed for the gratification of plebeian spectators, who, sitting at ease munching cakes and sausages, could contemplate with placid interest the death-agonies of the Cornelii or the Gracchi.
Julius Placidus, like many other fashionable youths of the period, prided himself on his skill in the deadly exercises of the circus. He had appeared before the Roman public at different times, armed with all the various weapons of the gladiator; but the exercise in which he considered himself most perfect was that of the trident and the net. The [pg 114]contest between the retiarius and the secutor was always a favourite spectacle with the public. The former carried an ample casting-net upon his shoulders, a three-pronged spear in his hand; beyond this he was totally unarmed either for attack or defence. The latter with a short sword, vizored helmet, and oblong shield, would at first sight appear to have fought at great advantage over his opponent. Nevertheless the arts of the retiarius in entangling his adversary had arrived at such perfection that he was constantly the conqueror. Once down, and involved in the fatal meshes, there was no escape for the swordsman; and from some whimsical reason the populace seldom granted him quarter when vanquished. Great activity and speed of foot were the principal qualities required by the retiarius, for if he failed in his cast he was compelled to fly from his adversary while preparing his net for a fresh attempt, and if overtaken his fate was sealed. Placidus possessed extraordinary personal activity. His eye was very correct, and his throw generally deadly. It may be, too, that there was something pleasing to the natural cruelty of his disposition in the contemplation of an antagonist writhing and helpless on the sand. It was his delight to figure in the arena with the deadly net laid in careful festoons upon his shoulder, and the long barbed trident quivering in his grasp, Licinius fell into the snare, if snare it was, readily enough.
“I would wager a province on Esca,” said he, “against anyone but a trained gladiator; and I think he could hold his own with the best of them, after a month’s practice.”
“Then you accept my challenge?” exclaimed Placidus, with a studied carelessness of manner that dissembled an eagerness he could scarcely control.
“Let us hear the terms over a fresh flask of Falernian,” observed the Emperor, glad of such a stimulant with his wine.