uppermost seats approached by the higher
vomitories. On the other hand, there were no lateral vomitories. The
spectators entered the orchestra directly by large doors, and thence
ascended to the four tiers of the lower (_cavea_) which curved like
hooks at their extremities, and were separated from the middle cavea by
a parapet of marble terminating in vigorously-carved lion's paws. Among
these carvings we may particularly note a crouching Atlas, of short,
thick-set form, sustaining on his shoulders and his arms, which are
doubled behind him, a marble slab which was once the stand of a vase or
candlestick. This athletic effort is violently rendered by the artist.
Above the orchestra ran the _tribunalia_, reminding us of our modern
stage-boxes. These were the places reserved at Rome for the vestal
virgins; at Pompeii, they were very probably those of the public
priestesses--of Eumachia, whose statue we have already seen, or of Mamia
whose tomb we have inspected. The seats of the three cavea were of
blocks of lava; and there can still be seen in them the hollows in which
the occupants placed their feet so as not to soil the spectators below
them. Let us remember that the Roman mantles were of white wool, and
that the sandals of the ancients got muddied just as our shoes do. The
citizens who occupied the central cavea brought their cushions with them
or folded their spotless togas on the seats before they took their
places. It was necessary, then, to protect them from the mud and the
dust in which the spectators occupying the upper tiers had been walking.

The number of ranges of seats was seventeen, divided into wedges by six
flights of steps, and in stalls by lines yet visible upon the stone. The
upper tiers were approached by vomitories and by a subterranean
corridor. The orchestra formed an arc the chord of which was indicated
by a marble strip with this inscription:

"M. Olconius M.F. Vervs, Pro Ludis."

This Olconius or Holconius was the Marquis of Carabas of Pompeii. His
name may be read everywhere in the streets, on the monuments, and on
the walls of the houses. We have seen already that the fruiterers
wanted him for aedile. We have pointed out the position of his statue in
the theatre. We know by inscriptions that he was not the only
illustrious member of his family. There were also a Marcus Holconius
Celer, a Marcus Holconius Rufus, etc. Were this petty municipal
aristocracy worth the trouble of hunting up,