A rattling roll of drums interrupted this dialogue. The roar of voices in the amphitheatre was suddenly hushed. The gates behind the gorgeous couch of state slowly opened, and Domitian, the awe-inspiring Emperor, who--as his flatterers expressed it--moved the world by a wink of his eyelash,[143] came forward in magnificent array, and took his seat on the decorated throne. Domitia took her place on the Emperor’s right hand; the seat to the left remained vacant.[145] It had been intended for Titus Claudius Mucianus, the miserable man, who--but a few hundred paces distant from the scene of these hideous combats--was lying on a bed of anguish in a dark struggle with madness and death. Among the suite, that followed Domitian, was Parthenius, as ever the perfect courtier and man of the world, smiling graciously, a very Sun of condescension and affability. Clodianus, too, upright and soldierly, only a little paler than usual; but perhaps his paleness was only a reflection from the velarium which, now that Caesar had taken his place, hung in a long curve over the arena, as though stricken with reverence. The herald’s drum rattled once more. Horns and trumpets struck up, shrill, loud and exciting, as if the legions of the Republic were marching to meet Hannibal. Then, down in the arena, the doors were opened for the gladiators. Slowly and solemnly the combatants came out from their cells on to the scene of action; tall and powerful forms, mostly fair-haired, for the greater number were northerners by birth. They marched round the arena with defiant looks, and pausing in front of the imperial couch, they bowed and shouted in loud chorus: "_Ave, Caesar, morituri te salutant_!"[146] When they had all passed by, the manager of the ceremonies came forward, bowed to the sovereign, and said in a distinct voice: “Marcus the Suevian will fight with Tumelicus the Cheruscan.” Wild, noisy music began to play, and the rest of the gladiators retired into the lairs, the master of the fights described with a staff the circle within which the struggle was to take place. The two gladiators were armed by slaves; they had helmets given them, and round shields, and short broadswords. Then again a drum gave the signal to begin. There was breathless silence. Often as the Roman populace had seen the bloody games of the arena, they never failed of their absorbing interest. The matrons and maidens, with their golden ornaments, forgot even the vicinity of their flattering gallants,[147] who till this moment had done their utmost to fulfil to the letter Ovid’s advice as to availing themselves of favorable opportunities.