retches on the stage, when this proclamation was translated
to them, set up a barbaric yell of joy, and brandished their spears and
targets more fiercely than ever.

But their joy was short. The trumpets sounded the attack: a body of
gladiators, equal in number to the savages, marched out from one of
the two great side passages, made their obeisance to the applauding
spectators, and planting their scaling-ladders against the front of the
stage, mounted to the attack.

The Libyans fought like tigers; yet from the first, Hypatia, and
Philammon also, could see that their promised chance of life was a mere
mockery. Their light darts and naked limbs were no match for the heavy
swords and complete armour of their brutal assailants, who endured
carelessly a storm of blows and thrusts on heads and faces protected by
visored helmets: yet so fierce was the valour of the Libyans, that even
they recoiled twice, and twice the scaling-ladders were hurled
down again, while more than one gladiator lay below, rolling in the
death-agony.

And then burst forth the sleeping devil in the hearts of that great
brutalised multitude. Yell upon yell of savage triumph, and still more
savage disappointment, rang from every tier of that vast ring of seats,
at each blow and parry, onslaught and repulse; and Philammon saw with
horror and surprise that luxury, refinement, philosophic culture itself,
were no safeguards against the infection of bloodthirstiness. Gay and
delicate ladies, whom he had seen three days before simpering delight
at Hypatia's heavenward aspirations, and some, too, whom he seemed to
recollect in Christian churches, sprang from their seats, waved their
hands and handkerchiefs, and clapped and shouted to the gladiators. For,
alas! there was no doubt as to which side the favour of the spectators
inclined. With taunts, jeers, applause, entreaties, the hired ruffians
were urged on to their work of blood. The poor wretches heard no voice
raised in their favour: nothing but contempt, hatred, eager lust
of blood, glared from those thousands of pitiless eyes; and,
broken-hearted, despairing, they flagged and drew back one by one.
A shout of triumph greeted the gladiators as they climbed over the
battlement, and gained a footing on the stage. The wretched blacks
broke up, and fled wildly from corner to corner, looking vainly for an
outlet....

And then began a butchery.... Some fifty men, women, and children were
cooped together in t