anches: in his hand
he carries an ivory sceptre, and over his head is held a crown of
gold-leaf. Behind the chariot is collected a retinue in festal array.
The competing chariots follow; after these are the effigies of
deities, borne on platforms or on vehicles to which are attached
richly caparisoned horses, mules, or elephants; in attendance upon
them are the connected priestly bodies. As this procession passes
round the Circus the spectators rise from their seats, roar their
acclamations, and wave their handkerchiefs. When it has made the
circuit, its members retire to their places, and the chariots are shut
in their stalls. Soon the president takes his stand in his box, lifts
a large handkerchief or napkin, and drops it. Immediately the bolts of
the barriers are withdrawn, and the chariots dash forward towards the
point marked A. The drivers, clothed in a close sleeveless tunic and
wearing a skull-cap, all of their particular colour, lean forward over
their steeds, and encourage them with whips and shouting. At their
waists you will see the reins gathered to a girdle, at which also
hangs a knife, in readiness to cut them away in case of accident. The
chariot is a low and shallow vehicle of wood covered with ornament and
as light as it can well be made, and it requires no little skill for
the charioteer to maintain his footing while controlling his team.
Down the straight they rush, each endeavouring to gain an advantage at
the turn, where the left rein is pulled, and the left horse--the pick
of the team--is brought as closely round the end of the wall as skill
and prudence can contrive. It is chiefly, though by no means only,
here that the accidents occur, and that the chariots lose their
balance and collide with each other, or strike against the end of the
wall and are over-thrown. How readily collision might happen may be
seen from the following diagram, where the courses of two chariots, A
and B, are indicated.

[Illustration: FIG. 85.--THE TURN IN THE CIRCUS.]

Sometimes the teams get out of hand and general disaster may result.
Round and round they go, the spectators yelling in their excitement
for the blue or the green, the red or the white, and making or
revising their bets. "Too far out!" "Well turned!" "The green wins!"
"Well done, Hirpinus!" Shouts like these form a roar to which perhaps
we have no modern parallel. One by one the eggs and dolphins disappear
from the wall; the chariots are reduced in numb