difficulty and art—­so much so that it could seldom be adventured in rough or windy weather.  But the present day was so remarkably still that there seemed to the spectators no excuse for the awkwardness of the artificers; and when a large gap in the back of the awning was still visible, from the obstinate refusal of one part of the velaria to ally itself with the rest, the murmurs of discontent were loud and general.

The sedile Pansa, at whose expense the exhibition was given, looked particularly annoyed at the defect, and vowed bitter vengeance on the head of the chief officer of the show, who, fretting, puffing, perspiring, busied himself in idle orders and unavailing threats.

The hubbub ceased suddenly—­the operators desisted—­the crowd were stilled—­the gap was forgotten—­for now, with a loud and warlike flourish of trumpets, the gladiators, marshaled in ceremonious procession, entered the arena.  They swept round the oval space very slowly and deliberately, in order to give the spectators full leisure to admire their stern serenity of feature—­their brawny limbs and various arms, as well as to form such wagers as the excitement of the moment might suggest.

“Oh!” cried the widow Fulvia to the wife of Pansa, as they leaned down from their lofty bench, “do you see that gigantic gladiator? how drolly he is dressed!”

“Yes,” said the aedile’s wife with complacent importance, for she knew all the names and qualities of each combatant:  “he is a retiarius or netter; he is armed only, you see, with a three-pronged spear like a trident, and a net; he wears no armor, only the fillet and the tunic.  He is a mighty man, and is to fight with Sporus, yon thick-set gladiator, with the round shield and drawn sword but without body armor; he has not his helmet on now, in order that you may see his face—­how fearless it is!  By-and-by he will fight with his visor down.”

“But surely a net and a spear are poor arms against a shield and sword?”

“That shows how innocent you are, my dear Fulvia:  the retiarius has generally the best of it.”

“But who is yon handsome gladiator, nearly naked—­is it not quite improper?  By Venus! but his limbs are beautifully shaped!”

“It is Lydon, a young untried man! he has the rashness to fight yon other gladiator similarly dressed, or rather undressed—­Tetraides.  They fight first in the Greek fashion, with the cestus; afterward they put on armor, and try sword and shield.”

“He is a proper man, this Lydon; and the women, I am sure, are on his side.”

“So are not the experienced bettors:  Clodius offers three to one against him.”

“Oh, Jove! how beautiful!” exclaimed the widow, as two gladiators, armed cap-a-pie, rode round the arena on light and prancing steeds.  Resembling much the combatants in the tilts of the middle age, they bore lances and round shields beautifully inlaid; their armor was woven intricately with bands of iron, but it covered only the thighs and the right arms; short cloaks extending to the seat gave a picturesque and graceful air to their costume; their legs were naked with the exception of sandals, which were fastened a little above the ankle.  “Oh, beautiful!  Who are these?” asked the widow.