Edward Bulwer-Lytton: The Last Days of Pompeii

BOOK THE FIFTH 2. Chapter II (continued)

Whoever is acquainted with the modern prize-ring--whoever has witnessed the heavy and disabling strokes which the human fist, skillfully directed, hath the power to bestow--may easily understand how much that happy facility would be increased by a band carried by thongs of leather round the arm as high as the elbow, and terribly strengthened about the knuckles by a plate of iron, and sometimes a plummet of lead. Yet this, which was meant to increase, perhaps rather diminished, the interest of the fray: for it necessarily shortened its duration. A very few blows, successfully and scientifically planted, might suffice to bring the contest to a close; and the battle did not, therefore, often allow full scope for the energy, fortitude and dogged perseverance, that we technically style pluck, which not unusually wins the day against superior science, and which heightens to so painful a delight the interest in the battle and the sympathy for the brave.

'Guard thyself!' growled Tetraides, moving nearer and nearer to his foe, who rather shifted round him than receded.

Lydon did not answer, save by a scornful glance of his quick, vigilant eye. Tetraides struck--it was as the blow of a smith on a vice; Lydon sank suddenly on one knee--the blow passed over his head. Not so harmless was Lydon's retaliation: he quickly sprung to his feet, and aimed his cestus full on the broad breast of his antagonist. Tetraides reeled--the populace shouted.

'You are unlucky to-day,' said Lepidus to Clodius: 'you have lost one bet----you will lose another.'

'By the gods! my bronzes go to the auctioneer if that is the case. I have no less than a hundred sestertia upon Tetraides. Ha, ha! see how he rallies! That was a home stroke: he has cut open Lydon's shoulder. A Tetraides!--a Tetraides!'

'But Lydon is not disheartened. By Pollux! how well he keeps his temper. See how dexterously he avoids those hammer-like hands!--dodging now here, now there--circling round and round. Ah, poor Lydon! he has it again.'

'Three to one still on Tetraides! What say you, Lepidus?'