I see before me the gladiator lie: He leans upon his handhis manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droopd head sinks gradually low And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower; and now The arena swims around himhe is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which haild the wretch who won. Byron.Childe Harold, Canto IV. Stanza 140.