And sooner or later one will err in his guard and be wounded or
killed."
Most spectators agreed with such forecasts. What is more, most of the
spectators admitted that, as they watched, each attack seemed certain to
succeed; every time either man guarded it seemed as if he must fail to
protect himself.
This, I think, explains the unflagging zest with which the entire
audience, senators, nobles and commonality, watched their bouts, revelled
in them, gloated over the memory of them and longed for more and more.
Consciously or unconsciously, every onlooker felt that sometime, some bout
would end in the wounding, disabling or death of one of the two. And so
perfect was their sword-play, so unfeigned their unmitigated fury of
attack, so genuine the impeccable dexterity of their defence that every
spectator felt that the supreme thrill, even while so long postponed, was
certain to arrive. More, each felt, against his judgment, that it was
likely to arrive the next moment. It was this illogical but unescapable
sensation which kept the interest of the whole audience, of the whole of
every audience, at a white heat over the bouts of Murmex and Palus. I
myself experienced this condition of mind and became infected with the
common ardor.
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