hard-won victories in which
his blood had flowed. And now, as the scarred veteran, who, puffed up
with conceit, walked singly and apart in the long train of gladiators,
cast a roving and haughty glance on the ranks of spectators, he was
filled out of due time with the longing to center all eyes on himself,
the one aim of his so frequently risking his life in these games. His
chest swelled, he braced up the tension of his supple sinews, and as
he passed the imperial seats he whirled his short sword round his head,
describing a circle in the air, with such skill and such persistent
rapidity, that it appeared like a disk of flashing steel. At the same
time his harsh, powerful voice bellowed out, "Hail, Caesar!" sounding
above the shouts of his comrades like the roar of a lion; and Caracalla,
who had not yet vouchsafed a friendly word or pleasant look to any
Alexandrian, waved his hand graciously again and again to this audacious
monster, whose strength and skill delighted him.

This was the instant for which the "Greens" in the third tier were
waiting. No one could prohibit their applauding the man whom Caesar
himself approved, so they forthwith began shouting "Tarautas!" with all
their might. They knew that this would suggest the comparison between
Caesar and the sanguinary wretch whose name had been applied to him,
and all who were eager to give expression to their vexation or
dissatisfaction took the hint and joined in the outcry. Thus in a moment
the whole amphitheatre was ringing with the name of "Tarautas!"

At first it rose here and there; but soon, no one knew how, the whole
crowd in the upper ranks joined in one huge chorus, giving free vent to
their long-suppressed irritation with childish and increasing uproar,
shouting the word with steady reiteration and a sort of involuntary
rhythm. Before long it sounded as though the multitude must have
practiced the mad chant which swelled to a perfect roar.

"Tarau-Tarau-Tarautas!" and, as is always the case when a breach has
been made in the dam, one after another joined in, with here the shrill
whistle of a reed pipe and there the clatter of a rattle. Mingling with
these were the angry outcries of those whom the lictors or guardians
of the peace had laid hands on, or their indignant companions; and the
thunder outside rolled a solemn accompaniment to the mutinous tumult
within.

Caesar's scowling brow showed that a storm threatened in that quarter
also; and no soone