ibune of the
soldiery.

A grand Ionic gateway gave them admittance to the hippodrome, a vast oval
space, adorned with groups of sculpture and obelisks and columns in the
midst; on some of which were affixed inscriptions commemorative of great
feats of skill or strength or daring; while others displayed placards
announcing games or contests to take place in future, and challenges of
celebrated gymnasts for the cestus fight, the wrestling match, or the
foot-race.

Around the outer circumference were rows of seats, shaded by plane trees
overrun with ivy, and there were already seated many young men of noble
birth, chatting together, or betting, with their waxed tablets and their
_styli_(11) in their hands, some waiting the commencement of the race
between Fuscus and Victor, others watching with interest the progress of a
sham fight on horseback between two young men of the equestrian order,
denoted by the narrow crimson stripes on their tunics, who were careering
to and fro, armed with long staves and circular bucklers, in all the swift
and beautiful movements of the mimic combat.

Among those most interested in this spectacle, the eye of Arvina fell
instantly on the tall and gaunt form of Catiline, who stood erect on one
of the marble benches, applauding with his hands, and now and then
shouting a word of encouragement to the combatants, as they wheeled by him
in the mazes of their half angry sport. It was not long, however, before
their strife was brought to a conclusion; for, almost as the friends
entered, the hindmost horseman of the two made a thrust at the other,
which taking effect merely on the lower rim of his antagonist's _parma_,
glanced off under his outstretched arm, and made the striker, in a great
measure, lose his balance. As quick as light, the other wheeled upon him,
feinted a pass at his breast with the point of the staff; and then, as he
lowered his shield to guard himself, reversed the weapon with a swift turn
of the wrist, dealt him a heavy blow with the trunchon on the head; and
then, while the whole place rang with tumultuous plaudits, circled
entirely round him to the left, and delivered his thrust with such effect
in the side, that it bore his competitor clear out of the saddle.

"Euge! Euge! well done," shouted Catiline in ecstacy; "by Hercules! I
never saw in all my life better skirmishing. It is all over with Titus
Varus!"

And in truth it was all over with him; but not in the sense which