The St. Louis Republic., 1900-11-18
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FAMOUS SPEECHES.
SPartaCus to the Giadiators. =
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Ye call me chief; and We do well call him
chief who for twelve long years has met
upon the arena every shape OF man or beast
the broad Empire Of Rome could furnish,
and who yet never lowered his arm. IL
! there be one among you who can say that
ever, in public fight or private brawl. my
actions did belle my tongue, let him stand
forth and say il. If there be three in al
Your company dare to face me on the
bloody sands. let them come
And yet l was not always thnS-a hired
butcher. Il savage chief of still more saw
ase men! My ancestors came from old
Sparta, and settled among the rine-clad
rocks ami ci'ron groves OF Syrasela. My
early life ran quiet as the brooks by which
sported: and when. at noon. | gathered
the sheep beneath the shade and played
upon the shepherds flute. there was
friend. the son Of a neighhor. to join me In
the pastime. We led our hocks to the same
pasture, and partook together our rustic
meal. One evening after the sheep were
folded. and we We're all seated beneath the
myrtle which shaded our cottage; my grand
sire. an old man. was telling of Marathon
and Leuctra: and how. in ancient times. 4
little band of Spartans. in Il detile of the
mountains. had withstood whole army.
did not then know what war was; but my
cheeks burned. and l clasped the knees Of
that venerable man. until my mother, part
ing the hair from of my forehead, kissed
rest. and think no more OF those old tales
and savage wars. That very night the Ro-
mans landed on CUR coast. saw the
breast that had rourisiled me trampled by
the hoof of a warhorse: the bleeding body
of my father flung amidst the blazing raft
ers Of our dwelling!
To-day ! killed a man IN the arena; and
when broke his helmet clasps. behold! he
was my friend He knew me, smiled faint
ly, saSped, and died; the same sweet smile
upon his lips that l had marked when. in
adventurous boyhood, We scaled the lofty
cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes and bear
them home in childish triumph. told the
Praetor that the dead man had been my
friend, generous and brave; and I begged
that / might bear away the body to burn
it on funeral pile. and mourn over its
ashes. Ay! upon my knees. amid the dust
and blood Of the arena begged that poor
boon. while all the assembled maids and
matrons. and the holy virgins they call
Testals. and the rabble. shouted In derision.
deeming It rare sport, forsooth, TO see
Rome's flercest gladiator turn pale and
tremble at sight OF that piece Of bleed
ing clay! And the Praetor drew back
II 1 We're pollution. and sternly said: Let
the carrion rot: there are no noble men but
Romans" And so. fellow gladiators must
you. and so must l. die like dogs.
o. Rome. Rome. thou hast been tender
nurse to me. Ay. thou hast given to that
poor, gentle. timid. shepherd lad, who never
knew a harsher tone than a fiute-noto.
muscles OF iron. and 4 heart Of flint; taught
him to drive the sword through plated
mail and links OF rugged brass. and warm
1t in the marrow of his foe; to gaze into the
glaring eyeballs of the fierce Numidian lion.
even as a boy upon a laughing girl! And
he shall pay thee back. until the yellow
Tiber is as red frothing wine. and in its
deepest ooZe thy lfeblood lies curdled!
Ye stand here like giants, as ye are! The
strength of brass Is IN your toughened
sinews: hut tomorrow some Roman Adonis,
breathing sweet perfume from his curling
locks. shall with his lily fingers pat your red
Drawn. and bet his sesterces upon your
blood. Hark: hear ye yon lion roaring IN
his den? 'T!s three days since he tasted
flesh; but tomorrow he shall break his fast
upon yours-and a dainty meal for him ye
will he! If ye are beasts then stand here
like fat oxen. waiting for the butchers
knife, If ye are men-follow ME! Strike
down yon guard, and gain the mountain
passes. and there do bloody work, as did
your sires at old Thermopylae! Is Sparta
dead? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in
like 4 belabored hound beneath his mas
ters lash? o. comrades warriors. Thra-
clans! if We must fight. let us fight for our
selves! If we must slaughter, let us
slaughter our oppressOrs! II we must die,
let 1t be under the clear sky, by the bright
waters, in noble, honorable battle"
ELIJAH KELLOGG.
Born in Portland. Ne. 1879