As the awning flaps in the wind, the colours in the stadium change constantly. The awning is made of wool—canvas proves too heavy for the great span—and although it was dyed red over most of its length, there were apparently other colours too, for the Latin poets describe how the waves of light from the swaying awning would tint the white marble of the statues now red, now yellow and now cerulean.
The amphitheatre is so high that it makes your head swim to look down from the upper tiers. The wooden planks of the arena are covered with freshly laid, pure white sand especially imported from Egypt for the purpose, and sparkles in the subdued light, for semi-precious stones have been sprinkled on it. Nero actually had the arena floor covered with gold dust. This however, was simply an extravagant gesture. Sand is the best material as it absorbs blood easily— in fact, the word arena means "sand" Around a marble altar in the middle of the arena, priests are conducting a sacrifice. The altar is to Jupiter Latista to whom in the old days human sacrifices were offered. The priests are dressed in white robes with red scarves. They lead out a white bull and two rams wearing gold headdresses. A fire is already burning on the altar and other priests are sprinkling wine and incense on it. After the animals have been sacrificed with much ceremony, the priests examine their entrails to see if the gods wish the games to proceed. With the stadium packed to the bursting point, the gods had better wish it and the pattern of entrails shows that they do. The priests file out, swinging incense burners and chanting hymns, while slaves remove the altar and the carcasses of the animals.
There is a distinguished audience in the podium and the first thirty-six rows of seats reserved for the upper classes. The emperor has not yet arrived, but visiting rulers with their courts are already seated. Blond, bearded Gauls sit staring at the wonders around them. There are Sygambrians with their long tresses tied in knots and Ethiopians with their woolly hair. There are Persians in red, blue and cloth-of-gold gowns, Britons in sleeved coats and loose trousers, Scythians from the Russian steppes, and Greeks in white robes. All these peoples are subject to Rome and the crowd knows it. They make rude comments about the barbarians and even ruder about the lords and ladies in the lower tiers. Many of the patricians have led scandalous private lives which are well known to the mob. They shout, "Hey, Italicus, are you still your mother's bed-companion?" "Ah, there, Antonia, if the gladiators survive this fight, they'll have a harder time satisfying you." "Greetings, Gaius, have you managed to make your boy friend in the Praetorian Guard a tribune as yet?" The patricians pay no attention to the cries although the taunts sting them. It is beneath their dignity to retort.
From outside the stadium comes the sound of music and a cheer goes up. The procession is coming. Led by slaves in golden armour blowing long trumpets, it files through the Gate of Life. The editor giving the games is riding in a chariot drawn by zebras (the Romans call them "tiger horses") in magnificent harness. He is a sickly young man with a weak face, the son of an influential old patrician woman who is determined to have the inane youngster elected to public office. He looks exhausted already from the long ride through the streets while standing erect in the chariot. The weight of the heavy golden wreath studded with precious stones in his head makes him reel, and a slave has to ride in the chariot with him to hold the wreath in place. The young man is wearing a purple toga covered with gold braid and trying to manage the reins of his chariot and hold up his ivory sceptre with its golden eagle at the same time. Luckily for him the reins are simply for show; the zebras are being led by experienced trainers. The crowd gives him an ironic cheer. If the games come up to expectations, they'll give him a real cheer and elect him to office.
A group of musicians march before the chariot playing for all they're worth on horns, fifes and flutes. There is also the usual group of clients surrounding the chariot in their white robes as well as slaves holding up placards saying for what office the young noble is running. After the chariot comes a long series of floats drawn by horses, mules and elephants. On each float is a statue of a god or goddess with priests burning incense on an altar before the image, or a group of young men and girls posing to represent some mythological tableau. This procession circles the arena to cheers, catcalls, and cries of: "Get down from that chariot and let your mother ride!" and "Oh, I think you're cute, sugar plum. Meet me under the stands and you'll get my vote." These long, formal parades were regarded as a waste of time by the mob and there was even a proverbial expression: "Tiresome as a circensian procession" But, like TV commercials, they were necessary; the editor giving the show wanted people to remember for whom to vote.
The insipid young man descends from the chariot, staggering with weariness, and is half led by his slaves to his place in the podium where his mother is already seated. He collapses with a sigh. Slaves remove his gold wreath, and he tries to wipe the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his gown. His mother stops him with an angry gesture.
A trumpet sounds, announcing the entrance of the Emperor Domitian. He enters his box from the rear. The royal box was raised above the podium on a dais. Four columns, each surmounted by a statue of victory, supported a canopy over it, Domitian was a great enthusiast for the games as long as they were cruel enough. (When there were no games, he used to amuse himself sticking pins in flies.) He is a potbellied man with large, watery eyes and completely bald. His private life was such that he was popularly referred to as "the old goat" During the games, he always kept a little boy with an extremely small head by his side and discussed the various events with him, apparently thinking that the deformed child possessed some supernatural ability to pick the winning chariot or best gladiator. Domitian maintained his own school of gladiators and was finally murdered by one of them, hired for that purpose by a group of ambitious politicians.
Domitian doesn't get much of a hand. He isn't giving the games and is unpopular anyway, being regarded as something of a tightwad.. The Vestal Virgins enter in their white robes and seat themselves in their box next to the emperor's. Then to another trumpet blast comes the parade of the combatants; the charioteers in their chariots, the gladiators marching in rank after rank, elephants carrying howdahs full of armed men, Nubians on horseback, cavalry from the royal household troop, trained lions led on chains by bestiarii, ostriches drawing light chariots, snake charmers with pythons wrapped around them, male and female bullfighters naked except for loincloths, men in elaborate costumes riding giraffes, stags, antelopes and even a tame rhinoceros, cages drawn by horses containing some of the rarer animals recently brought to Rome, and a group of pygmies from the Ituri Forest in Central Africa.
There are also Parthian bowmen, Syrian slingers, redheaded Irishmen carrying shillelaghs, Assyrians with flails, Egyptians with boomerang hatchets, African stone-throwers, Essedarii who use lassos from chariots, Germans with javelins, Sikhs from India with sharp throwing rings, Laplanders with spears and spear-throwers, and inhabitants of the Andaman Islands with harpoons. Little boys dressed as cupids with toy bows and arrows run about shooting light shafts into the crowd, each with a lottery ticket attached to the head. Groups of pretty young girls, nude except for garlands of flowers around their waists, scatter rose petals under the feet of the procession, and dwarfs dressed in extravagant costumes, many with huge, brightly coloured phalli strapped to their loins, run about, tumbling, doing handstands, and performing simple acrobatic tricks. A detachment of the Praetoria Guard, their gold armour gleaming in the subdued light, brings up the rear of the procession.