With this theatre stands connected one of the most mournful tragedies of Bible times. Having murdered the Apostle James and attempted the life of Peter, Herod Agrippa came from Jerusalem to Cæsarea to call to account the citizens of Tyre and Sidon, who had incurred his royal displeasure. Arrayed in robes of gold and silver texture, Herod entered the theatre on a festive day to deliver an oration to his subjects. According to an ancient custom, it was early in the morning, and the sun’s rays, falling upon his resplendent garments, dazzled the eyes of the beholders, who, in a delirium of joy at the brilliant spectacle, and at the same time affected by the eloquent tones of his voice, rose _en masse_ and cried out, “It is the voice of a god and not of a man. Be thou merciful to us; for, although we have hitherto reverenced thee only as a man, yet shall we henceforth own thee as superior to mortal nature.” In this moment of divine homage he looked up and saw above him, on a rope, an owl, a bird of ill omen. It was the messenger of his departure. Refusing to rebuke this impious flattery, “the angel of the Lord smote him, because he gave not God the glory, and he was eaten up of worms, and gave up the ghost.”[514] Looking upon his flatterers as he expired, the dying king exclaimed, “I, whom ye call a god, am commanded presently to depart this life, while Providence thus reproves the lying words you have just said to me; and I, who was by you called immortal, am immediately to be hurried away by death.”[515] The construction of the theatre is in harmony with these serious facts. The imperial throne being on the west side of the edifice, toward the shore; the auditors sitting with their backs toward the east; and the building, like all structures of the kind in Eastern countries, having no roof, the rising sun shone with dazzling brightness upon the monarch’s robes, transforming him into an object of indescribable magnificence, and awakening the acclamations of the people. Riding eastward through lacerating thorns and briers, we saw a red granite block, 35 feet long, five wide, and four thick, lying upon its broad surface, and near it another of less dimensions. Beyond them, to the north, is Herod’s circus for chariot racing. It consists of an oblong basin with embanked sides. The three conical shafts of red granite, averaging from eight to ten feet in length, which marked the goal of the ancient course, are still standing; and in the midst of a field not far to the northwest is a deep well, 20 feet in diameter, with circular mouthpiece and arched roof.