CHAPTER VII.
THE GLADIATOR.
"How did you know what it was that that man asked you?" asked Rollo.
"I knew from the circumstances of the case," replied Mr. George. "Thefirst question I knew must be whether we wished to go up; and thesecond, whether we wished him to go with us."
"What do you suppose they keep the gate locked for?" asked Rollo.
"So as to _make_ us pay when we come down," said Mr. George.
"Do you suppose they mean to make us pay?" asked Rollo.
"They will not make us, exactly," said Mr. George; "but they will expectsomething, no doubt. There may be another reason, however, why they keepthe gate locked; and that is, to prevent children and stragglers fromgoing up, where they might fall and break their necks at some of theexposed and dangerous places."
"Do you suppose that there are dangerous places up here?" asked Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George; "I suppose there are a great many; and I adviseyou to be very careful where you go."
The flight of stairs where Mr. George and Rollo were ascending was verybroad; and it was formed of the long, flat bricks, such as Rollo hadobserved below. The bricks were placed edgewise.
"I suppose that these steps were covered with slabs of marble, in oldtimes," said Rollo.
"Probably," said Mr. George; "either with marble, or some other harderstone."
After ascending some distance, Rollo, who went forward, came out uponthe landing which led to a range of corridors in the second story, as itwere. There were several of these corridors, running side by side, allalong the building. On one side, you could pass through arches, and comeout to the platforms where the seats had originally been arranged, andwhere you could look down upon the arena. The seats themselves were allgone, and in their places nothing was left but sloping platforms, allgone to ruin, and covered now with grass, and weeds, and tall bramblebushes. On the other side, you could go out to the outer wall, and lookdown through immense arched openings, to the ground below.[5]
[Footnote 5: See Frontispiece.]
"Take care, Rollo," said Mr. George; "don't go too near."
"You may go as near as you think it is safe," said Rollo, "and I willkeep back an inch from where you go."
"That's right," said Mr. George. "There is great pleasure andsatisfaction in going into dangerous places with such a sensible boy asyou."
After rambling about among the arches and corridors of the second storyfor some time, Mr. George and Rollo mounted to a story above. They foundruins of staircases in great numbers, so that there were a great manydifferent places where they could go up. Mr. George allowed Rollo to goabout wherever he pleased, knowing that he would keep at a safe distancefrom all places where there was danger of falling.
From time to time, they met other parties of visitors rambling about theruins. If these persons were French or German, they generally bowed toRollo and Mr. George as they passed, and greeted them with a pleasantsmile, as if of recognition. If, on the other hand, they were English,they passed directly by, looking straight forward, as if they did notsee them at all.
Whenever Rollo came to a new staircase, he wished to ascend it, beingseemingly desirous of getting up as high as he could. Mr. George made noobjection to this. Indeed, he allowed Rollo to choose the way, and to gowhere he pleased. He himself followed, walking slowly, in a musingmanner, filled, apparently, with wondering admiration, and contemplatingthe stupendous magnitude of the ruin.
"Uncle George," said Rollo, "if I had my pressing book here, I wouldgather some of these plants and press them, to carry home."
Mr. George did not answer. He was standing in an advanced position,where he had an uninterrupted survey of the whole interior of theColiseum; and he was endeavoring to picture to his imagination the scenewhich must have been presented to view when the vast amphitheatre wasfilled with spectators.
"If I had expected to find so many plants growing on the ruins of abuilding, I should have brought it," said Rollo.
The pressing book which Rollo referred to, was one made expressly forthe purpose of pressing flowers. The leaves of it were of blottingpaper.
Rollo was half inclined to ask Mr. George to put some specimens into theGuide Book; but he did _not_ ask him, because he knew that Mr. Georgedid not like to have dried plants in the Guide Book. Such specimensbetween the leaves of a book interfere very much with the convenience ofusing it, by dropping out when you open the book, or impeding theturning of the leaves.
"But I mean to come again," continued Rollo, "and bring my pressingbook, and then I can get as many specimens as I please. Wouldn't you,uncle George?"
"Wouldn't you what?" said Mr. George. Mr. George had been paying verylittle attention to what Rollo had been saying.
"Come again some day," said Rollo, "and bring my pressing book, so as tocollect specimens of some of these little plants."
"Yes," said Mr. George, "that will be an excellent plan. And I wish,while you are doing it, you would gather some for me. And if you wishfor some now, I can let you put them in the Guide Book."
"No, I thank you," said Rollo. "I will wait till I come again."
The height of the outer walls of the Coliseum is over a hundred andfifty feet, which would be the height of a house fifteen stories high.There are not many church steeples higher than that.
If, therefore, you conceive of an oval-shaped field six acres inextent, with a massive wall one hundred and fifty feet high, and dividedinto four immense stories, surrounding it, and from the top of this wallranges of seats, with passages between them, sloping in towards thecentre, leaving about an acre of open and level space in the centre forthe arena, the whole finished in the most magnificent and gorgeousmanner, with columns, statues, sculptured ornaments, and all the seats,and walls, and staircases, and corridors, and vestibules, and tribunes,and pavilions for musicians, and seats for judges, designed and arrangedin the highest style of architectural beauty, and encased and adornedwith variegated marbles of the most gorgeous description,--if, I say,you can conceive of all this, you will have some faint idea of what theColiseum must have been in the days of its glory.
Mr. George and Rollo continued to ascend the different staircases whichthey met with in their wanderings, until at length they had reached agreat elevation; and yet so immense was the extent of the interior ofthe edifice, that they were not at all too high to see the arena toadvantage. Here Rollo crept out upon one of the sloping platforms, wherethere had formerly been seats for spectators, and calling to Mr. Georgeto follow him, he sat down upon a great square stone, which seemed tohave formed a part of the ancient foundation of the seats.
"Come, uncle George," said Rollo, "let us sit down here a few minutes,and make believe that the games are going on, and that we are thespectators."
"Yes," said Mr. George, "we will. In that way we can get a better ideaof what the Coliseum was."
"I wish we could bring it all back again," said Rollo, "just as it wasin old times, by some sort of magic."
"We must do it by the magic of imagination," said Mr. George.
"Only," continued Rollo, "the things that they did down in the arenawere so dreadful that we could not bear to look at them."
"True," said Mr. George. "The spectacles must have been very dreadful,indeed."
"Such as when the lions and tigers came out to tear and devour the poorChristians," said Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George; "but generally, I suppose, when wild beasts andmen were brought out together on the arena, it was the beasts that werekilled, and not the men. It was a combat, and I suppose that the menwere usually victorious. It was the spectacle of the fury of thecombat, and of the bravery which the men displayed, and of the terribledanger that they were often exposed to, that so excited and pleased thespectators."
"I should not have thought that they could have found any men that wouldhave been willing to fight the beasts," said Rollo.
"Perhaps the men were not willing," replied Mr. George, "but werecompelle
d to fight them. Indeed, I suppose that they were generallyprisoners of war or criminals. The generals used to bring home a greatmany prisoners of war from the different countries that they conquered,and these men were trained in Rome, and in other great cities, to fighton the arena, either with wild beasts, or with one another. They werecalled _gladiators_. There is a statue of one, wounded and dying,somewhere here in Rome."
"I should like to see it," said Rollo.
"We _shall_ see it, undoubtedly," said Mr. George. "It is one of themost celebrated statues in the world. It is called the _DyingGladiator_. I presume the sculptor of it made it from his recollectionsof the posture and expression of face which were witnessed in the caseof real gladiators in the arena, when they had been mortally wounded,and were sinking down to die."
"We certainly must see it," said Rollo.
"We certainly will," rejoined Mr. George. "It is celebrated all over theworld. Byron wrote a very fine stanza describing it."
"What was the stanza?" asked Rollo.
"I don't remember it all," said Mr. George. "It was something about hissinking down upon the ground, leaning upon his hand, and the expressionof his face showed, though he yielded to death, he conquered andtriumphed over the pain. Then there is something about his wife andchildren, far away in Dacia, his native land, where he had been capturedin fighting to protect them, and brought to Rome to fight and die in theColiseum, to make amusement for the Roman populace."
"I wish you could remember the lines themselves," said Rollo.
"Perhaps I can find them in the Guide Book," said Mr. George.
So saying, Mr. George opened the Guide Book, and turned to the index.
"I believe," said he, "that the statue of the Dying Gladiator is in theCapitol."
"We have not been there yet, have we?" asked Rollo.
"Yes," replied Mr. George; "we went there the first day, to get a viewfrom the cupola on the summit. But there is a museum of sculptures andstatues there which we have not seen yet. You see the Capitol Hill wasin ancient times one of the most important public places in Rome, andwhen the city was destroyed, immense numbers of statues, and inscribedmarbles, and beautiful sculptured ornaments were buried up there in therubbish and ruins. When, finally, they were dug out, new buildings wereerected on the spot, and all the objects that were found there werearranged in a museum. Ah! here it is," he added. "I have found thelines."
So Mr. George read the lines as follows. He read them in a slow andsolemn manner.
"I see before me the gladiator lie; He leans upon his hand; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony; And his drooped head sinks gradually low; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower; and now The arena swims around him--he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
"He heard it, but he heeded not; his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play; There was their Dacian mother--he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday. All this rushed with his blood. Shall he expire, And unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire."
"The Goths did arise and glut their ire," said Mr. George, after he hadfinished reciting the lines, "for they were in great measure the authorsof all this ruin and destruction."
After sitting nearly half an hour in this place, Mr. George rose, and,Rollo following him, went back into the corridors again. They rambledalong the corridors, and mounted the staircases to higher and higherpoints, until they had ascended as far as they could go. In these upperregions of the ruin Rollo had a good opportunity to procure specimens ofmarble and of stamped bricks, for in various places there, he foundimmense stores of bricks and marble, and other rubbish, piled up insquare heaps under arches, or in great recesses among the ruins. Rolloselected some of the bricks which had stamps upon them, and then, with apiece of marble for a hammer, he contrived to break away all of thebrick except the part which contained the stamp, and thus procuredspecimens of a convenient form for carrying. These specimens he wrappedseparately in pieces of newspaper, and put them in his pockets.
At length Mr. George said it was time for them to go home; so they beganto descend. They went down by different passages and staircases fromthose which they had taken in coming up; but they came out at last atthe same gateway. The custodian was just unlocking the gate when theyarrived, in order to admit another party. Mr. George gave him a coupleof pauls, and then he and Rollo set out to go home.
Their way led them over the ancient site of the Roman Forum, whichpresented to view on every side, as they passed, broken columns andruined arches, with the mouldering remains of ancient foundations,cropping out here and there amid grassy slopes and mounds.
"Uncle George," said Rollo, as they walked along, "we are going directlyby the Capitol Hill as we go home. Let us go in now and see the DyingGladiator."
"Very well," said Mr. George, "we will."
Accordingly, when they reached the base of the hill, they turned to goup. There was a broad and steep paved ascent leading up the hill,somewhat like a road, only it was too steep for a carriage. Indeed,there were little steps at short intervals, with a sloping pavementbetween them. You see this ascent in the engraving. It is in the centreof the view. There are statues of lions at the foot of it, with waterspouting from their mouths. At the top are larger statues of horses,standing on lofty pedestals, with men by the side of them, holding themby the bridles. These are ancient statues. They were found buried upin rubbish in an obscure quarter of Rome, about two hundred years ago.Beyond, you see other groups of colossal statuary raised on loftypedestals in various parts of the great square which forms the summit ofthe hill.
ASCENT TO THE CAPITOL.]
On the left you see a church, standing in a very high position, with astill steeper ascent than the one I have been describing, leading up toit. On the right is a winding road for carriages, which leads up, by atolerably gentle ascent, to the great square.
The great square is surrounded with vast palaces, almost all of whichare filled with paintings, statuary, sculptures, and other treasures ofancient and modern art. Mr. George and Rollo turned to the left afterthey had ascended into the square, and entered a door over which was aninscription denoting that it led to the museum of sculptures andstatues. After ascending one or two staircases, they came to theentrance of a suit of apartments in which the statuary was contained.There was a public functionary, dressed somewhat like a soldier,standing sentinel at the door. He, however, readily allowed Mr. Georgeand Rollo to pass in. There were various other parties of visitors goingin at the same time.
Mr. George and Rollo walked through one long room after another, withrows of statues, and busts, and other works of ancient sculpture on eachside. These marbles were almost all more or less chipped and broken, orotherwise greatly defaced by the hard usage to which they had beensubjected.
"Uncle George," said Rollo, as they walked along, "how came all theirears and noses broken off in this way?"
"Why, all these things were dug out from heaps of stones and rubbish,"said Mr. George, "a few hundred years ago. For nearly a thousand yearsbefore that time, they were regarded as of no more value than so manyold bricks.
"Here's a gentleman coming," added Mr. George, interrupting himself,"who looks as if he could speak French. I mean to ask him where the hallof the Dying Gladiator is."
Accordingly, when the gentleman came up, Mr. George, accosting him inFrench, asked him the question, and the gentleman, replying in French,gave the information in a very polite manner. It was a little fartheron, he said.
"Is there a special hall for the Dying Gladiator?" asked Rollo.
"No," said Mr. George, "not for the Dying Gladiator alone. But many ofthe halls in these museums are named from the most celebrated statuethat there is in them. And I knew that the room where the DyingGladiato
r is placed was called by that name."
So they walked on, and presently they came to the room. There were agreat many large statues in it; but among them it was very easy torecognize at once the one which they had come to see, both on account ofthe conspicuous situation in which it was placed, and also from itsform. Here is a representation of it.
STATUE OF THE GLADIATOR.]
Mr. George and Rollo both looked upon the statue for a few minutes insilence.
"Yes," said Rollo, at length, "yes, I see. He is dying. He is sinkinggradually down."
"Do you see the wound in his side?" asked Mr. George.
"Yes," replied Rollo, "and the drops of blood coming out."
"He has dropped his sword," said Mr. George. "It is lying there near hishand."
"What a short sword!" said Rollo. "There are some other things lying onthe ground beneath him, but I do not know what they are."
"Nor I," said Mr. George. "One of them seems to be a sort of trumpet.People think from that that this man was a herald."
"But I thought he was a gladiator," said Rollo.
"They call him a gladiator," replied Mr. George, "but nobody reallyknows what the statue was originally intended for. You see it was dug upout of a heap of rubbish, just as almost all these statues were, andpeople have to guess what they were intended for. This statue was dug upin a garden--a garden belonging to an ancient Roman villa."
"What does that cord around his neck mean?" asked Rollo.
"They think it means that the man was a Gaul. The Gauls used to wearsuch cords, I believe."
"I thought he was a Dacian," said Rollo.
"I suppose it is uncertain who he was," replied Mr. George; "but look athis face. See the expression of it. It is an expression of mingledsuffering and rage, and yet he looks as if he were so far gone as tobegin to be unconscious of every thing around him."
"Yes," said Rollo; "he does not seem to notice us at all."
"In that," said Mr. George, "is shown the great skill of the sculptor,to express such different, and, as one would think, almost conflictingemotions in the same face, at the same time."
After looking at the statue some time longer, Rollo and Mr. Georgewalked around the room, and looked at the other pieces of sculpture thatthere were there. They afterwards came back again to the gladiator, inorder to take one more view of it before they went away. Mr. Georgeadvised Rollo to look at it well, and impress the image of it stronglyon his mind.
"It is one of the treasures of the world," said he; "and in the courseof your life, though you may never see it here, in the original, again,you will meet with casts of it and drawings of it without number, andyou will find descriptions of it and allusions to it continuallyrecurring in the conversation that you hear and the books that you read.Indeed, the image of the Dying Gladiator forms a part of the mentalfurnishing of every highly-cultivated intellect in the civilizedworld."