he sign; the keeper, who was behind the den, cautiously removed the
grating, and the lion leaped forth with a mighty and glad roar of
release. The keeper hastily retreated through the grated passage
leading from the arena, and left the lord of the forest--and his prey.
Glaucus had bent his limbs so as to give himself the firmest posture at
the expected rush of the lion, with his small and shining weapon raised
on high, in the faint hope that one well-directed thrust (for he knew
that he should have time but for one) might penetrate through the eye to
the brain of his grim foe.
But, to the unutterable astonishment of all, the beast seemed not even
aware of the presence of the criminal.
At the first moment of its release it halted abruptly in the arena,
raised itself half on end, snuffing the upward air with impatient sighs;
then suddenly it sprang forward, but not on the Athenian. At half-speed
it circled round and round the space, turning its vast head from side to
side with an anxious and perturbed gaze, as if seeking only some avenue
of escape; once or twice it endeavored to leap up the parapet that
divided it from the audience, and, on failing, uttered rather a baffled
howl than its deep-toned and kingly roar. It evinced no sign, either of
wrath or hunger; its tail drooped along the sand, instead of lashing its
gaunt sides; and its eye, though it wandered at times to Glaucus, rolled
again listlessly from him. At length, as if tired of attempting to
escape, it crept with a moan into its cage, and once more laid itself
down to rest.
The first surprise of the assembly at the apathy of the lion soon grew
converted into resentment at its cowardice; and the populace already
merged their pity for the fate of Glaucus into angry compassion for
their own disappointment.
The editor called to the keeper.
'How is this? Take the goad, prick him forth, and then close the door
of the den.'
As the keeper, with some fear, but more astonishment, was preparing to
obey, a loud cry was heard at one of the entrances of the arena; there
was a confusion, a bustle--voices of remonstrance suddenly breaking
forth, and suddenly silenced at the reply. All eyes turned in wonder at
the interruption, towards the quarter of the disturbance; the crowd gave
way, and suddenly Sallust appeared on the senatorial benches, his hair
disheveled--breathless--heated--half-exhausted. He cast his eyes
hastily round the ring. 'Remove the Ath
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