Another monument--the one attributed to Scaurus--was very curious, owing to the gladiatorial scenes carved on it, and which, according to custom, represented real combats. Each figure was surmounted with an inscription indicating the name of the gladiator and the number of his victories. We know, already, that these sanguinary games formed part of the funeral ceremonies. The heirs of the deceased made the show for the gratification of the populace, either around the tombs or in the amphitheatre, whither we shall go at the close of our stroll, and where we shall describe the carvings on the pretended monument of Scaurus. The tomb of Nevoleia Tyché, much too highly decorated, encrusted with arabesques and reliefs representing the portrait of that lady, a sacrifice, a ship (a symbol of life, say the sentimental antiquaries), is covered with a curious inscription, which I translate literally. "Nevoleia Tyché, freedwoman of Julia, for herself and for Caius Munatius Faustus, knight and mayor of the suburb, to whom the decurions, with the consent of the people, had awarded the honor of the _bisellium_. This monument has been offered during her lifetime by Nevoleia Tyché to her freedmen and to those of C. Munatius Faustus." Assuredly, after reading this inscription, we cannot reproach the fair Pompeians with concealing their affections from the public. Nevoleia certainly was not the wife of Munatius; nevertheless, she loved him well, since she made a trysting with him even in the tomb. It was Queen Caroline Murat who, accompanied by Canova, was the first to penetrate to the inside of this dovecote (January 14, 1813). There were opened in her presence several glass urns with leaden cases, on the bottom of which still floated some ashes in a liquid not yet dried up, a mixture of water, wine, and oil. Other urns contained only some bones and the small coin which has been taken for Charon's obolus. I have many other tombs left to mention. There are three, which are sarcophagi, still complete, never open, and proving that the ancients buried their dead even before Christianity prohibited the use of the funeral pyre. Families had their choice between the two systems, and burned neither men who had been struck by lightning (they thought the bodies of such to be incorruptible), nor new-born infants who had not yet cut their teeth. Thus it was that the remains of Diomed's youngest children could not be found, while those of the elder ones were preserved in a glass urn contained in a vase of lead.