He half leaned upon the stone pedestal of an heroic-sized Athena, who seemed to be spreading her protecting aegis above him.

His garments were rent to the veriest shreds.

His features were hidden behind streaming blood, his arms and neck were bruised and bleeding; but clearly his adversaries could not yet congratulate themselves that the lion's strength was too sapped to be no longer dreaded.
"Come, you," was his hot challenge to Lucius Ahenobarbus, who stood, half delighted, half afraid, shivering and laughing spasmodically, as he surveyed the struggle from a safe distance.

"Come, you, and have your share in the villany!" And again, for it was all the affair of the veriest moment, the slaves rushed once more on their indocile victim.

"Freedom to the man who pulls him down!" was the incentive of Ahenobarbus.
But again Drusus, who, to tell the truth, had to contend with only the flabby, soft-handed, unskilful underlings of Lucius, struck out so furiously that another of his attackers fell backward with a groan and a gasp.