"_Spartacus._ I will not fight. I will contend with mine enemy, when there is strife between us; and if that enemy be one of these same fiends, a Roman, I will give him the advantage of weapon and place; he shall take a helmet and buckler, while I, with my head bare and my breast naked, and nothing in my hand but my shepherd's staff, will beat him to my feet and slay him. But I will not slay a man for the diversion of Romans." His master threatens to have him lashed if he refuses to contend in the arena. The fearful attitude and fixed look with which Spartacus received this threat, suggesting that he would strike the speaker dead with a glance, were a masterpiece of expressive art not easily forgotten by any one who saw it. Its possessing power seemed to freeze the gazer while he gazed. Still refusing to fight, in moody despair he bewails the destruction of his home by the Romans, and their murder of his wife and young child. The female slaves of Bracchius here pass by, and, to his amazement, among them Spartacus sees his lost Senona and her boy. After a touching interview of contending joy and grief with them, he agrees to enter the arena, on condition that if he is victorious his reward shall be their liberation. The next act opens with a view of the great Roman amphitheatre, crowded with the people gathered to see those bloody games which were their horrid but favorite amusement. The first adversary brought against Spartacus is a Gaul. He soon slays him, though with great reluctance, and only as moved to it by the prospect of freedom for his wife and child. Then they propose as a second champion a renowned Thracian. He flings down his sword and refuses to fight with one of his own countrymen. But at last, on learning that liberty is to be had in no other way, he suddenly yields. The Thracian is introduced. It is Phasarius. A scene of intense pathetic power follows, as little by little the brothers are struck with each other's appearance, suspect, inquire, respond, are satisfied, and rush into a loving embrace. The prætor treats their recognition and their transport of fraternal affection as a trick to escape the combat, and orders them to begin. Spartacus proposes to his brother to die sword in hand rather than obey the unnatural command. In reply, Phasarius rapidly informs him that he has already organized the elements of a revolt among his comrades, and that it awaits but his signal to break out. Crassus angrily calls on his guards to enter the amphitheatre and punish the dilatory combatants. The manner in which Spartacus retorted, "Let them come in,--we are armed!" never failed to stir the deepest excitement in the theatre, causing the whole assembly to join in enthusiastic applause. Port, look, gesture, tone, accent, combined to make it a signal example of the sovereign potency of manner in revealing a master-spirit and swaying subject-spirits.