imitated the cries and the leaps of wild beasts. Then came unclean
wagers; they buried their heads in the amphoras and drank on without
interruption, like thirsty dromedaries. A Lusitanian of gigantic stature
ran over the tables, carrying a man in each hand at arm's length, and
spitting out fire through his nostrils. Some Lacedaemonians, who had not
taken off their cuirasses, were leaping with a heavy step. Some advanced
like women, making obscene gestures; others stripped naked to fight amid
the cups after the fashion of gladiators, and a company of Greeks danced
around a vase whereon nymphs were to be seen, while a Negro tapped with
an ox-bone on a brazen buckler.

Suddenly they heard a plaintive song, a song loud and soft, rising and
falling in the air like the wing-beating of a wounded bird.

It was the voice of the slaves in the ergastulum. Some soldiers rose at
a bound to release them and disappeared.

They returned, driving through the dust amid shouts, twenty men,
distinguished by their greater paleness of face. Small black felt caps
of conical shape covered their shaven heads; they all wore wooden shoes,
and yet made a noise as of old iron like driving chariots.

They reached the avenue of cypress, where they were lost among the crowd
of those questioning them. One of them remained apart, standing. Through
the rents in his tunic his shoulders could be seen striped with long
scars. Drooping his chin, he looked round him with distrust, closing his
eyelids somewhat against the dazzling light of the torches, but when
he saw that none of the armed men were unfriendly to him, a great sigh
escaped from his breast; he stammered, he sneered through the bright
tears that bathed his face. At last he seized a brimming cantharus by