I Could Hardly Refrain From Shedding Tears At
This Dismal Spectacle, When I Recalled The Idea Of What It Was
About Eighteen Months Ago.
As we stayed all night at Frejus, I had an opportunity of viewing
the amphitheatre at leisure.
As near as I can judge by the eye,
it is of the same dimensions with that of Nismes; but shockingly
dilapidated. The stone seats rising from the arena are still
extant, and the cells under them, where the wild beasts were
kept. There are likewise the remains of two galleries one over
another; and two vomitoria or great gateways at opposite sides of
the arena, which is now a fine green, with a road through the
middle of it: but all the external architecture and the ornaments
are demolished. The most intire part of the wall now constitutes
part of a monastery, the monks of which, I am told, have helped
to destroy the amphitheatre, by removing the stones for their own
purposes of building. In the neighbourhood of this amphitheatre,
which stands without the walls, are the vestiges of an old
edifice, said to have been the palace where the imperator or
president resided: for it was a Roman colony, much favoured by
Julius Caesar, who gave it the name of Forum Julii, and Civitas
Forojuliensis. In all probability, it was he who built the
amphitheatre, and brought hither the water ten leagues from the
river of Ciagne, by means of an aqueduct, some arcades of which
are still standing on the other side of the town.
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