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His face was very pale; he stood as if only half
conscious; then he raised his eyes and looked at the spectators.
The amphitheater had gone wild. The walls of the building were trembling
from the roar of tens of thousands of people.
Everywhere were heard cries for mercy, passionate and persistent, which
soon turned into one unbroken thunder.
The giant understood that they were asking for his life and liberty, but
his thoughts were not for himself. He raised the unconscious maiden in
his arms, and, going to Nero's padium, held her up and looked up
imploringly.
Vinicius sprang over the barrier, which separated the lower seats from
the arena, and, running to Lygia, covered her with his toga.
Then he tore apart the tunic on his breast, laid bare the scars left by
wounds received in the Armenian war, and stretched out his hands to the
multitude.
At this the enthusiasm passed everything ever seen in a circus before.
Voices choking with tears began to demand mercy. Yet Nero halted and
hesitated. He would have preferred to see the giant and the maiden rent
by the horns of the bull.


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