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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4003-0.txt b/4003-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3e9811 --- /dev/null +++ b/4003-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2814 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Androcles and the Lion, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Androcles and the Lion + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Release Date: October 5, 2001 [eBook #4003] +[Most recently updated: December 22, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Eve Sobol. HTML version by Al Haines + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION *** + + + + +ANDROCLES AND THE LION + +by Bernard Shaw + +1912 + + +Contents + + PROLOGUE + ACT I + ACT II + + + + +PROLOGUE + + +Overture; forest sounds, roaring of lions, Christian hymn faintly. + +A jungle path. A lion’s roar, a melancholy suffering roar, comes from +the jungle. It is repeated nearer. The lion limps from the jungle on +three legs, holding up his right forepaw, in which a huge thorn sticks. +He sits down and contemplates it. He licks it. He shakes it. He tries +to extract it by scraping it along the ground, and hurts himself worse. +He roars piteously. He licks it again. Tears drop from his eyes. He +limps painfully off the path and lies down under the trees, exhausted +with pain. Heaving a long sigh, like wind in a trombone, he goes to +sleep. + +Androcles and his wife Megæra come along the path. He is a small, thin, +ridiculous little man who might be any age from thirty to fifty-five. +He has sandy hair, watery compassionate blue eyes, sensitive nostrils, +and a very presentable forehead; but his good points go no further; his +arms and legs and back, though wiry of their kind, look shrivelled and +starved. He carries a big bundle, is very poorly clad, and seems tired +and hungry. + +His wife is a rather handsome pampered slattern, well fed and in the +prime of life. She has nothing to carry, and has a stout stick to help +her along. + +MEGAERA. +(_suddenly throwing down her stick_) I won’t go another step. + +ANDROCLES. +(_pleading wearily_) Oh, not again, dear. What’s the good of stopping +every two miles and saying you won’t go another step? We must get on to +the next village before night. There are wild beasts in this wood: +lions, they say. + +MEGAERA. +I don’t believe a word of it. You are always threatening me with wild +beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body when I can hardly +drag one foot before another. We haven’t seen a single lion yet. + +ANDROCLES. +Well, dear, do you want to see one? + +MEGAERA. +(_tearing the bundle from his back_) You cruel beast, you don’t care +how tired I am, or what becomes of me (_she throws the bundle on the +ground_): always thinking of yourself. Self! self! self! always +yourself! (_She sits down on the bundle_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_sitting down sadly on the ground with his elbows on his knees and his +head in his hands_) We all have to think of ourselves occasionally, +dear. + +MEGAERA. +A man ought to think of his wife sometimes. + +ANDROCLES. +He can’t always help it, dear. You make me think of you a good deal. +Not that I blame you. + +MEGAERA. +Blame me! I should think not indeed. Is it my fault that I’m married to +you? + +ANDROCLES. +No, dear: that is my fault. + +MEGAERA. +That’s a nice thing to say to me. Aren’t you happy with me? + +ANDROCLES. +I don’t complain, my love. + +MEGAERA. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself. + +ANDROCLES. +I am, my dear. + +MEGAERA. +You’re not: you glory in it. + +ANDROCLES. +In what, darling? + +MEGAERA. +In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself a +laughing-stock. Its not fair. You get me the name of being a shrew with +your meek ways, always talking as if butter wouldn’t melt in your +mouth. And just because I look a big strong woman, and because I’m +good-hearted and a bit hasty, and because you’re always driving me to +do things I’m sorry for afterwards, people say “Poor man: what a life +his wife leads him!” Oh, if they only knew! And you think I don’t know. +But I do, I do, (_screaming_) I do. + +ANDROCLES. +Yes, my dear: I know you do. + +MEGAERA. +Then why don’t you treat me properly and be a good husband to me? + +ANDROCLES. +What can I do, my dear? + +MEGAERA. +What can you do! You can return to your duty, and come back to your +home and your friends, and sacrifice to the gods as all respectable +people do, instead of having us hunted out of house and home for being +dirty, disreputable, blaspheming atheists. + +ANDROCLES. +I’m not an atheist, dear: I am a Christian. + +MEGAERA. +Well, isn’t that the same thing, only ten times worse? Everybody knows +that the Christians are the very lowest of the low. + +ANDROCLES. +Just like us, dear. + +MEGAERA. +Speak for yourself. Don’t you dare to compare me to common people. My +father owned his own public-house; and sorrowful was the day for me +when you first came drinking in our bar. + +ANDROCLES. +I confess I was addicted to it, dear. But I gave it up when I became a +Christian. + +MEGAERA. +You’d much better have remained a drunkard. I can forgive a man being +addicted to drink: its only natural; and I don’t deny I like a drop +myself sometimes. What I can’t stand is your being addicted to +Christianity. And what’s worse again, your being addicted to animals. +How is any woman to keep her house clean when you bring in every stray +cat and lost cur and lame duck in the whole countryside? You took the +bread out of my mouth to feed them: you know you did: don’t attempt to +deny it. + +ANDROCLES. +Only when they were hungry and you were getting too stout, dearie. + +MEGAERA. +Yes, insult me, do. (_Rising_) Oh! I won’t bear it another moment. You +used to sit and talk to those dumb brute beasts for hours, when you +hadn’t a word for me. + +ANDROCLES. +They never answered back, darling. (_He rises and again shoulders the +bundle_). + +MEGAERA. +Well, if you’re fonder of animals than of your own wife, you can live +with them here in the jungle. I’ve had enough of them and enough of +you. I’m going back. I’m going home. + +ANDROCLES. +(_barring the way back_) No, dearie: don’t take on like that. We can’t +go back. We’ve sold everything: we should starve; and I should be sent +to Rome and thrown to the lions— + +MEGAERA. +Serve you right! I wish the lions joy of you. (_Screaming_) Are you +going to get out of my way and let me go home? + +ANDROCLES. +No, dear— + +MEGAERA. +Then I’ll make my way through the forest; and when I’m eaten by the +wild beasts you’ll know what a wife you’ve lost. (_She dashes into the +jungle and nearly falls over the sleeping lion_). Oh! Oh! Andy! Andy! +(_She totters back and collapses into the arms of Androcles, who, +crushed by her weight, falls on his bundle_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_extracting himself from beneath her and slapping her hands in great +anxiety_) What is it, my precious, my pet? What’s the matter? (_He +raises her head. Speechless with terror, she points in the direction of +the sleeping lion. He steals cautiously towards the spot indicated by +Megæra. She rises with an effort and totters after him_). + +MEGAERA. +No, Andy: you’ll be killed. Come back. + +_The lion utters a long snoring sigh. Androcles sees the lion and +recoils fainting into the arms of Megæra, who falls back on the bundle. +They roll apart and lie staring in terror at one another. The lion is +heard groaning heavily in the jungle._ + +ANDROCLES. +(_whispering_) Did you see? A lion. + +MEGAERA. +(_despairing_) The gods have sent him to punish us because you’re a +Christian. Take me away, Andy. Save me. + +ANDROCLES. +(_rising_) Meggy: there’s one chance for you. It’ll take him pretty +nigh twenty minutes to eat me (_I’m rather stringy and tough_) and you +can escape in less time than that. + +MEGAERA. +Oh, don’t talk about eating. (_The lion rises with a great groan and +limps towards them_). Oh! (_She faints_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_quaking, but keeping between the lion and Megæra_) Don’t you come +near my wife, do you hear? (_The lion groans. Androcles can hardly +stand for trembling_). Meggy: run. Run for your life. If I take my eye +off him, its all up. (_The lion holds up his wounded paw and flaps it +piteously before Androcles_). Oh, he’s lame, poor old chap! He’s got a +thorn in his paw. A frightfully big thorn. (_Full of sympathy_) Oh, +poor old man! Did um get an awful thorn into um’s tootsums wootsums? +Has it made um too sick to eat a nice little Christian man for um’s +breakfast? Oh, a nice little Christian man will get um’s thorn out for +um; and then um shall eat the nice Christian man and the nice Christian +man’s nice big tender wifey pifey. (_The lion responds by moans of +self-pity_). Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Now, now (_taking the paw in his +hand_) um is not to bite and not to scratch, not even if it hurts a +very, very little. Now make velvet paws. That’s right. (_He pulls +gingerly at the thorn. The lion, with an angry yell of pain, jerks back +his paw so abruptly that Androcles is thrown on his back_). Steadeee! +Oh, did the nasty cruel little Christian man hurt the sore paw? (_The +lion moans assentingly but apologetically_). Well, one more little pull +and it will be all over. Just one little, little, leetle pull; and then +um will live happily ever after. (_He gives the thorn another pull. The +lion roars and snaps his jaws with a terrifying clash_). Oh, mustn’t +frighten um’s good kind doctor, um’s affectionate nursey. That didn’t +hurt at all: not a bit. Just one more. Just to show how the brave big +lion can bear pain, not like the little crybaby Christian man. Oopsh! +(_The thorn comes out. The lion yells with pain, and shakes his paw +wildly_). That’s it! (_Holding up the thorn_). Now it’s out. Now lick +um’s paw to take away the nasty inflammation. See? (_He licks his own +hand. The lion nods intelligently and licks his paw industriously_). +Clever little liony-piony! Understands um’s dear old friend Andy Wandy. +(_The lion licks his face_). Yes, kissums Andy Wandy. (_The lion, +wagging his tail violently, rises on his hind legs and embraces +Androcles, who makes a wry face and cries_) Velvet paws! Velvet paws! +(_The lion draws in his claws_). That’s right. (_He embraces the lion, +who finally takes the end of his tail in one paw, places that tight +around Androcles’ waist, resting it on his hip. Androcles takes the +other paw in his hand, stretches out his arm, and the two waltz +rapturously round and round and finally away through the jungle_). + +MEGAERA. +(_who has revived during the waltz_) Oh, you coward, you haven’t danced +with me for years; and now you go off dancing with a great brute beast +that you haven’t known for ten minutes and that wants to eat your own +wife. Coward! Coward! Coward! (_She rushes off after them into the +jungle_). + + + + + ACT I + + +Evening. The end of three converging roads to Rome. Three triumphal +arches span them where they debouch on a square at the gate of the +city. Looking north through the arches one can see the campagna +threaded by the three long dusty tracks. On the east and west sides of +the square are long stone benches. An old beggar sits on the east side +of the square, his bowl at his feet. Through the eastern arch a squad +of Roman soldiers tramps along escorting a batch of Christian prisoners +of both sexes and all ages, among them one Lavinia, a goodlooking +resolute young woman, apparently of higher social standing than her +fellow-prisoners. A centurion, carrying his vinewood cudgel, trudges +alongside the squad, on its right, in command of it. All are tired and +dusty; but the soldiers are dogged and indifferent, the Christians +light-hearted and determined to treat their hardships as a joke and +encourage one another. + +_A bugle is heard far behind on the road, where the rest of the cohort +is following._ + +CENTURION. +(_stopping_) Halt! Orders from the Captain. (_They halt and wait_). Now +then, you Christians, none of your larks. The captain’s coming. Mind +you behave yourselves. No singing. Look respectful. Look serious, if +you’re capable of it. See that big building over there? That’s the +Coliseum. That’s where you’ll be thrown to the lions or set to fight +the gladiators presently. Think of that; and it’ll help you to behave +properly before the captain. (_The Captain arrives_). Attention! +Salute! (_The soldiers salute_). + +A CHRISTIAN. +(_cheerfully_) God bless you, Captain. + +THE CENTURION. +(_scandalised_) Silence! + +_The Captain, a patrician, handsome, about thirty-five, very cold and +distinguished, very superior and authoritative, steps up on a stone +seat at the west side of the square, behind the centurion, so as to +dominate the others more effectually._ + +THE CAPTAIN. +Centurion. + +THE CENTURION. +(_standing at attention and saluting_) Sir? + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_speaking stiffly and officially_) You will remind your men, +Centurion, that we are now entering Rome. You will instruct them that +once inside the gates of Rome they are in the presence of the Emperor. +You will make them understand that the lax discipline of the march +cannot be permitted here. You will instruct them to shave every day, +not every week. You will impress on them particularly that there must +be an end to the profanity and blasphemy of singing Christian hymns on +the march. I have to reprimand you, Centurion, for not only allowing +this, but actually doing it yourself. + +THE CENTURION. +The men march better, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. +No doubt. For that reason an exception is made in the case of the march +called Onward Christian Soldiers. This may be sung, except when +marching through the forum or within hearing of the Emperor’s palace; +but the words must be altered to “Throw them to the Lions.” + +_The Christians burst into shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, to the +great scandal of the Centurion._ + +CENTURION. +Silence! Silen-n-n-n-nce! Where’s your behavior? Is that the way to +listen to an officer? (_To the Captain_) That’s what we have to put up +with from these Christians every day, sir. They’re always laughing and +joking something scandalous. They’ve no religion: that’s how it is. + +LAVINIA. +But I think the Captain meant us to laugh, Centurion. It was so funny. + +CENTURION. +You’ll find out how funny it is when you’re thrown to the lions +to-morrow. (_To the Captain, who looks displeased_) Beg pardon, Sir. +(_To the Christians_) Silennnnce! + +THE CAPTAIN. +You are to instruct your men that all intimacy with Christian prisoners +must now cease. The men have fallen into habits of dependence upon the +prisoners, especially the female prisoners, for cooking, repairs to +uniforms, writing letters, and advice in their private affairs. In a +Roman soldier such dependence is inadmissible. Let me see no more of it +whilst we are in the city. Further, your orders are that in addressing +Christian prisoners, the manners and tone of your men must express +abhorrence and contempt. Any shortcoming in this respect will be +regarded as a breach of discipline. (_He turns to the prisoners_) +Prisoners. + +CENTURION. +(_fiercely_) Prisonerrrrrs! Tention! Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. +I call your attention, prisoners, to the fact that you may be called on +to appear in the Imperial Circus at any time from tomorrow onwards +according to the requirements of the managers. I may inform you that as +there is a shortage of Christians just now, you may expect to be called +on very soon. + +LAVINIA. +What will they do to us, Captain? + +CENTURION. +Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. +The women will be conducted into the arena with the wild beasts of the +Imperial Menagerie, and will suffer the consequences. The men, if of an +age to bear arms, will be given weapons to defend themselves, if they +choose, against the Imperial Gladiators. + +LAVINIA. +Captain: is there no hope that this cruel persecution— + +CENTURION. +(_shocked_) Silence! Hold your tongue, there. Persecution, indeed! + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_unmoved and somewhat sardonic_) Persecution is not a term applicable +to the acts of the Emperor. The Emperor is the Defender of the Faith. +In throwing you to the lions he will be upholding the interests of +religion in Rome. If you were to throw him to the lions, that would no +doubt be persecution. + +_The Christians again laugh heartily._ + +CENTURION. +(_horrified_) Silence, I tell you! Keep silence there. Did anyone ever +hear the like of this? + +LAVINIA. +Captain: there will be nobody to appreciate your jokes when we are +gone. + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_unshaken in his official delivery_) I call the attention of the +female prisoner Lavinia to the fact that as the Emperor is a divine +personage, her imputation of cruelty is not only treason, but +sacrilege. I point out to her further that there is no foundation for +the charge, as the Emperor does not desire that any prisoner should +suffer; nor can any Christian be harmed save through his or her own +obstinacy. All that is necessary is to sacrifice to the gods: a simple +and convenient ceremony effected by dropping a pinch of incense on the +altar, after which the prisoner is at once set free. Under such +circumstances you have only your own perverse folly to blame if you +suffer. I suggest to you that if you cannot burn a morsel of incense as +a matter of conviction, you might at least do so as a matter of good +taste, to avoid shocking the religious convictions of your fellow +citizens. I am aware that these considerations do not weigh with +Christians; but it is my duty to call your attention to them in order +that you may have no ground for complaining of your treatment, or of +accusing the Emperor of cruelty when he is showing you the most signal +clemency. Looked at from this point of view, every Christian who has +perished in the arena has really committed suicide. + +LAVINIA. +Captain: your jokes are too grim. Do not think it is easy for us to +die. Our faith makes life far stronger and more wonderful in us than +when we walked in darkness and had nothing to live for. Death is harder +for us than for you: the martyr’s agony is as bitter as his triumph is +glorious. + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_rather troubled, addressing her personally and gravely_) A martyr, +Lavinia, is a fool. Your death will prove nothing. + +LAVINIA. +Then why kill me? + +THE CAPTAIN. +I mean that truth, if there be any truth, needs no martyrs. + +LAVINIA. +No; but my faith, like your sword, needs testing. Can you test your +sword except by staking your life on it? + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_suddenly resuming his official tone_) I call the attention of the +female prisoner to the fact that Christians are not allowed to draw the +Emperor’s officers into arguments and put questions to them for which +the military regulations provide no answer. (_The Christians titter_). + +LAVINIA. +Captain: how CAN you? + +THE CAPTAIN. +I call the female prisoner’s attention specially to the fact that four +comfortable homes have been offered her by officers of this regiment, +of which she can have her choice the moment she chooses to sacrifice as +all well-bred Roman ladies do. I have no more to say to the prisoners. + +CENTURION. +Dismiss! But stay where you are. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Centurion: you will remain here with your men in charge of the +prisoners until the arrival of three Christian prisoners in the custody +of a cohort of the tenth legion. Among these prisoners you will +particularly identify an armorer named Ferrovius, of dangerous +character and great personal strength, and a Greek tailor reputed to be +a sorcerer, by name Androcles. You will add the three to your charge +here and march them all to the Coliseum, where you will deliver them +into the custody of the master of the gladiators and take his receipt, +countersigned by the keeper of the beasts and the acting manager. You +understand your instructions? + +CENTURION. +Yes, Sir. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Dismiss. (_He throws off his air of parade, and descends down from the +perch. The Centurion seats on it and prepares for a nap, whilst his men +stand at ease. The Christians sit down on the west side of the square, +glad to rest. Lavinia alone remains standing to speak to the Captain_). + +LAVINIA. +Captain: is this man who is to join us the famous Ferrovius, who has +made such wonderful conversions in the northern cities? + +THE CAPTAIN. +Yes. We are warned that he has the strength of an elephant and the +temper of a mad bull. Also that he is stark mad. Not a model Christian, +it would seem. + +LAVINIA. +You need not fear him if he is a Christian, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_coldly_) I shall not fear him in any case, Lavinia. + +LAVINIA. +(_her eyes dancing_) How brave of you, Captain! + +THE CAPTAIN. +You are right: it was silly thing to say. (_In a lower tone, humane and +urgent_) Lavinia: do Christians know how to love? + +LAVINIA. +(_composedly_) Yes, Captain: they love even their enemies. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Is that easy? + +LAVINIA. +Very easy, Captain, when their enemies are as handsome as you. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Lavinia: you are laughing at me. + +LAVINIA. +At you, Captain! Impossible. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Then you are flirting with me, which is worse. Don’t be foolish. + +LAVINIA. +But such a very handsome captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Incorrigible! (_Urgently_) Listen to me. The men in that audience +tomorrow will be the vilest of voluptuaries: men in whom the only +passion excited by a beautiful woman is a lust to see her tortured and +torn shrieking limb from limb. It is a crime to dignify that passion. +It is offering yourself for violation by the whole rabble of the +streets and the riff-raff of the court at the same time. Why will you +not choose rather a kindly love and an honorable alliance? + +LAVINIA. +They cannot violate my soul. I alone can do that by sacrificing to +false gods. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Sacrifice then to the true God. What does his name matter? We call him +Jupiter. The Greeks call him Zeus. Call him what you will as you drop +the incense on the altar flame: He will understand. + +LAVINIA. +No. I couldn’t. That is the strange thing, Captain, that a little pinch +of incense should make all that difference. Religion is such a great +thing that when I meet really religious people we are friends at once, +no matter what name we give to the divine will that made us and moves +us. Oh, do you think that I, a woman, would quarrel with you for +sacrificing to a woman god like Diana, if Diana meant to you what +Christ means to me? No: we should kneel side by side before her altar +like two children. But when men who believe neither in my god nor in +their own—men who do not know the meaning of the word religion—when +these men drag me to the foot of an iron statue that has become the +symbol of the terror and darkness through which they walk, of their +cruelty and greed, of their hatred of God and their oppression of +man—when they ask me to pledge my soul before the people that this +hideous idol is God, and that all this wickedness and falsehood is +divine truth, I cannot do it, not if they could put a thousand cruel +deaths on me. I tell you, it is physically impossible. Listen, Captain: +did you ever try to catch a mouse in your hand? Once there was a dear +little mouse that used to come out and play on my table as I was +reading. I wanted to take him in my hand and caress him; and sometimes +he got among my books so that he could not escape me when I stretched +out my hand. And I did stretch out my hand; but it always came back in +spite of me. I was not afraid of him in my heart; but my hand refused: +it is not in the nature of my hand to touch a mouse. Well, Captain, if +I took a pinch of incense in my hand and stretched it out over the +altar fire, my hand would come back. My body would be true to my faith +even if you could corrupt my mind. And all the time I should believe +more in Diana than my persecutors have ever believed in anything. Can +you understand that? + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_simply_) Yes: I understand that. But my hand would not come back. The +hand that holds the sword has been trained not to come back from +anything but victory. + +LAVINIA. +Not even from death? + +THE CAPTAIN. +Least of all from death. + +LAVINIA. +Then I must not come back either. A woman has to be braver than a +soldier. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Prouder, you mean. + +LAVINIA. +(_startled_) Prouder! You call our courage pride! + +THE CAPTAIN. +There is no such thing as courage: there is only pride. You Christians +are the proudest devils on earth. + +LAVINIA. +(_hurt_) Pray God then my pride may never become a false pride. (_She +turns away as if she did not wish to continue the conversation, but +softens and says to him with a smile_) Thank you for trying to save me +from death. + +THE CAPTAIN. +I knew it was no use; but one tries in spite of one’s knowledge. + +LAVINIA. +Something stirs, even in the iron breast of a Roman soldier! + +THE CAPTAIN. +It will soon be iron again. I have seen many women die, and forgotten +them in a week. + +LAVINIA. +Remember me for a fortnight, handsome Captain. I shall be watching you, +perhaps. + +THE CAPTAIN. +From the skies? Do not deceive yourself, Lavinia. There is no future +for you beyond the grave. + +LAVINIA. +What does that matter? Do you think I am only running away from the +terrors of life into the comfort of heaven? If there were no future, or +if the future were one of torment, I should have to go just the same. +The hand of God is upon me. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Yes: when all is said, we are both patricians, Lavinia, and must die +for our beliefs. Farewell. (_He offers her his hand. She takes it and +presses it. He walks away, trim and calm. She looks after him for a +moment, and cries a little as he disappears through the eastern arch. A +trumpet-call is heard from the road through the western arch_). + +CENTURION. +(_waking up and rising_) Cohort of the tenth with prisoners. Two file +out with me to receive them. (_He goes out through the western arch, +followed by four soldiers in two files_). + +_Lentulus and Metellus come into the square from the west side with a +little retinue of servants. Both are young courtiers, dressed in the +extremity of fashion. Lentulus is slender, fair-haired, epicene. +Metellus is manly, compactly built, olive skinned, not a talker._ + +LENTULUS. +Christians, by Jove! Let’s chaff them. + +METELLUS. +Awful brutes. If you knew as much about them as I do you wouldn’t want +to chaff them. Leave them to the lions. + +LENTULUS. +(_indicating Lavinia, who is still looking towards the arches after the +captain_). That woman’s got a figure. (_He walks past her, staring at +her invitingly, but she is preoccupied and is not conscious of him_). +Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you? + +LAVINIA. +(_starting_) What? + +LENTULUS. +Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you, fascinating Christian? + +LAVINIA. +Don’t be foolish. (_To Metellus, who has remained on her right, so that +she is between them_) Please don’t let your friend behave like a cad +before the soldiers. How are they to respect and obey patricians if +they see them behaving like street boys? (_Sharply to Lentulus_) Pull +yourself together, man. Hold your head up. Keep the corners of your +mouth firm; and treat me respectfully. What do you take me for? + +LENTULUS. +(_irresolutely_) Look here, you know: I—you—I— + +LAVINIA. +Stuff! Go about your business. (_She turns decisively away and sits +down with her comrades, leaving him disconcerted_). + +METELLUS. +You didn’t get much out of that. I told you they were brutes. + +LENTULUS. +Plucky little filly! I suppose she thinks I care. (_With an air of +indifference he strolls with Metellus to the east side of the square, +where they stand watching the return of the Centurion through the +western arch with his men, escorting three prisoners: Ferrovius, +Androcles, and Spintho. Ferrovius is a powerful, choleric man in the +prime of life, with large nostrils, staring eyes, and a thick neck: a +man whose sensibilities are keen and violent to the verge of madness. +Spintho is a debauchee, the wreck of a good-looking man gone hopelessly +to the bad. Androcles is overwhelmed with grief, and is restraining his +tears with great difficulty_). + +THE CENTURION. +(_to Lavinia_) Here are some pals for you. This little bit is Ferrovius +that you talk so much about. (_Ferrovius turns on him threateningly. +The Centurion holds up his left forefinger in admonition_). Now +remember that you’re a Christian, and that you’ve got to return good +for evil. (_Ferrovius controls himself convulsively; moves away from +temptation to the east side near Lentulus; clasps his hands in silent +prayer; and throws himself on his knees_). That’s the way to manage +them, eh! This fine fellow (_indicating Androcles, who comes to his +left, and makes Lavinia a heartbroken salutation_) is a sorcerer. A +Greek tailor, he is. A real sorcerer, too: no mistake about it. The +tenth marches with a leopard at the head of the column. He made a pet +of the leopard; and now he’s crying at being parted from it. +(_Androcles sniffs lamentably_). Ain’t you, old chap? Well, cheer up, +we march with a Billy goat (_Androcles brightens up_) that’s killed two +leopards and ate a turkey-cock. You can have him for a pet if you like. +(_Androcles, quite consoled, goes past the Centurion to Lavinia, and +sits down contentedly on the ground on her left_). This dirty dog +(_collaring Spintho_) is a real Christian. He mobs the temples, he does +(_at each accusation he gives the neck of Spintho’s tunic a twist_); he +goes smashing things mad drunk, he does; he steals the gold vessels, he +does; he assaults the priestesses, he does pah! (_He flings Spintho +into the middle of the group of prisoners_). You’re the sort that makes +duty a pleasure, you are. + +SPINTHO. +(_gasping_) That’s it: strangle me. Kick me. Beat me. Revile me. Our +Lord was beaten and reviled. That’s my way to heaven. Every martyr goes +to heaven, no matter what he’s done. That is so, isn’t it, brother? + +CENTURION. +Well, if you’re going to heaven, _I_ don’t want to go there. I wouldn’t +be seen with you. + +LENTULUS. +Haw! Good! (_Indicating the kneeling Ferrovius_). Is this one of the +turn-the-other-cheek gentlemen, Centurion? + +CENTURION. +Yes, sir. Lucky for you too, sir, if you want to take any liberties +with him. + +LENTULUS. +(_to Ferrovius_) You turn the other cheek when you’re struck, I’m told. + +FERROVIUS. +(_slowly turning his great eyes on him_) Yes, by the grace of God, I +do, now. + +LENTULUS. +Not that you’re a coward, of course; but out of pure piety. + +FERROVIUS. +I fear God more than man; at least I try to. + +LENTULUS. +Let’s see. (_He strikes him on the cheek. Androcles makes a wild +movement to rise and interfere; but Lavinia holds him down, watching +Ferrovius intently. Ferrovius, without flinching, turns the other +cheek. Lentulus, rather out of countenance, titters foolishly, and +strikes him again feebly_). You know, I should feel ashamed if I let +myself be struck like that, and took it lying down. But then I’m not a +Christian: I’m a man. (_Ferrovius rises impressively and towers over +him. Lentulus becomes white with terror; and a shade of green flickers +in his cheek for a moment_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_with the calm of a steam hammer_) I have not always been faithful. +The first man who struck me as you have just struck me was a stronger +man than you: he hit me harder than I expected. I was tempted and fell; +and it was then that I first tasted bitter shame. I never had a happy +moment after that until I had knelt and asked his forgiveness by his +bedside in the hospital. (_Putting his hands on Lentulus’s shoulders +with paternal weight_). But now I have learnt to resist with a strength +that is not my own. I am not ashamed now, nor angry. + +LENTULUS. +(_uneasily_) Er—good evening. (_He tries to move away_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_gripping his shoulders_) Oh, do not harden your heart, young man. +Come: try for yourself whether our way is not better than yours. I will +now strike you on one cheek; and you will turn the other and learn how +much better you will feel than if you gave way to the promptings of +anger. (_He holds him with one hand and clenches the other fist_). + +LENTULUS. +Centurion: I call on you to protect me. + +CENTURION. +You asked for it, sir. It’s no business of ours. You’ve had two whacks +at him. Better pay him a trifle and square it that way. + +LENTULUS. +Yes, of course. (_To Ferrovius_) It was only a bit of fun, I assure +you: I meant no harm. Here. (_He proffers a gold coin_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_taking it and throwing it to the old beggar, who snatches it up +eagerly, and hobbles off to spend it_) Give all thou hast to the poor. +Come, friend: courage! I may hurt your body for a moment; but your soul +will rejoice in the victory of the spirit over the flesh. (_He prepares +to strike_). + +ANDROCLES. +Easy, Ferrovius, easy: you broke the last man’s jaw. + +_Lentulus, with a moan of terror, attempts to fly; but Ferrovius holds +him ruthlessly._ + +FERROVIUS. +Yes; but I saved his soul. What matters a broken jaw? + +LENTULUS. +Don’t touch me, do you hear? The law— + +FERROVIUS. +The law will throw me to the lions tomorrow: what worse could it do +were I to slay you? Pray for strength; and it shall be given to you. + +LENTULUS. +Let me go. Your religion forbids you to strike me. + +FERROVIUS. +On the contrary, it commands me to strike you. How can you turn the +other cheek, if you are not first struck on the one cheek? + +LENTULUS. +(_almost in tears_) But I’m convinced already that what you said is +quite right. I apologize for striking you. + +FERROVIUS. +(_greatly pleased_) My son: have I softened your heart? Has the good +seed fallen in a fruitful place? Are your feet turning towards a better +path? + +LENTULUS. +(_abjectly_) Yes, yes. There’s a great deal in what you say. + +FERROVIUS. +(_radiant_) Join us. Come to the lions. Come to suffering and death. + +LENTULUS. +(_falling on his knees and bursting into tears_) Oh, help me. Mother! +mother! + +FERROVIUS. +These tears will water your soul and make it bring forth good fruit, my +son. God has greatly blessed my efforts at conversion. Shall I tell you +a miracle—yes, a miracle—wrought by me in Cappadocia? A young man—just +such a one as you, with golden hair like yours—scoffed at and struck me +as you scoffed at and struck me. I sat up all night with that youth +wrestling for his soul; and in the morning not only was he a Christian, +but his hair was as white as snow. (_Lentulus falls in a dead faint_). +There, there: take him away. The spirit has overwrought him, poor lad. +Carry him gently to his house; and leave the rest to heaven. + +CENTURION. +Take him home. (_The servants, intimidated, hastily carry him out. +Metellus is about to follow when Ferrovius lays his hand on his +shoulder_). + +FERROVIUS. +You are his friend, young man. You will see that he is taken safely +home. + +METELLUS. +(_with awestruck civility_) Certainly, sir. I shall do whatever you +think best. Most happy to have made your acquaintance, I’m sure. You +may depend on me. Good evening, sir. + +FERROVIUS. +(_with unction_) The blessing of heaven upon you and him. + +_Metellus follows Lentulus. The Centurion returns to his seat to resume +his interrupted nap. The deepest awe has settled on the spectators. +Ferrovius, with a long sigh of happiness, goes to Lavinia, and offers +her his hand._ + +LAVINIA. +(_taking it_) So that is how you convert people, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. +Yes: there has been a blessing on my work in spite of my unworthiness +and my backslidings—all through my wicked, devilish temper. This man— + +ANDROCLES. +(_hastily_) Don’t slap me on the back, brother. She knows you mean me. + +FERROVIUS. +How I wish I were weak like our brother here! for then I should perhaps +be meek and gentle like him. And yet there seems to be a special +providence that makes my trials less than his. I hear tales of the +crowd scoffing and casting stones and reviling the brethren; but when I +come, all this stops: my influence calms the passions of the mob: they +listen to me in silence; and infidels are often converted by a straight +heart-to-heart talk with me. Every day I feel happier, more confident. +Every day lightens the load of the great terror. + +LAVINIA. +The great terror? What is that? + +_Ferrovius shakes his head and does not answer. He sits down beside her +on her left, and buries his face in his hands in gloomy meditation._ + +ANDROCLES. +Well, you see, sister, he’s never quite sure of himself. Suppose at the +last moment in the arena, with the gladiators there to fight him, one +of them was to say anything to annoy him, he might forget himself and +lay that gladiator out. + +LAVINIA. +That would be splendid. + +FERROVIUS. +(_springing up in horror_) What! + +ANDROCLES. +Oh, sister! + +FERROVIUS. +Splendid to betray my master, like Peter! Splendid to act like any +common blackguard in the day of my proving! Woman: you are no +Christian. (_He moves away from her to the middle of the square, as if +her neighborhood contaminated him_). + +LAVINIA. +(_laughing_) You know, Ferrovius, I am not always a Christian. I don’t +think anybody is. There are moments when I forget all about it, and +something comes out quite naturally, as it did then. + +SPINTHO. +What does it matter? If you die in the arena, you’ll be a martyr; and +all martyrs go to heaven, no matter what they have done. That’s so, +isn’t it, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. +Yes: that is so, if we are faithful to the end. + +LAVINIA. +I’m not so sure. + +SPINTHO. +Don’t say that. That’s blasphemy. Don’t say that, I tell you. We shall +be saved, no matter WHAT we do. + +LAVINIA. +Perhaps you men will all go into heaven bravely and in triumph, with +your heads erect and golden trumpets sounding for you. But I am sure I +shall only be allowed to squeeze myself in through a little crack in +the gate after a great deal of begging. I am not good always: I have +moments only. + +SPINTHO. +You’re talking nonsense, woman. I tell you, martyrdom pays all scores. + +ANDROCLES. +Well, let us hope so, brother, for your sake. You’ve had a gay time, +haven’t you? with your raids on the temples. I can’t help thinking that +heaven will be very dull for a man of your temperament. (_Spintho +snarls_). Don’t be angry: I say it only to console you in case you +should die in your bed tonight in the natural way. There’s a lot of +plague about. + +SPINTHO. +(_rising and running about in abject terror_) I never thought of that. +O Lord, spare me to be martyred. Oh, what a thought to put into the +mind of a brother! Oh, let me be martyred today, now. I shall die in +the night and go to hell. You’re a sorcerer: you’ve put death into my +mind. Oh, curse you, curse you! (_He tries to seize Androcles by the +throat_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_holding him in a grip of iron_) What’s this, brother? Anger! +Violence! Raising your hand to a brother Christian! + +SPINTHO. +It’s easy for you. You’re strong. Your nerves are all right. But I’m +full of disease. (_Ferrovius takes his hand from him with instinctive +disgust_). I’ve drunk all my nerves away. I shall have the horrors all +night. + +ANDROCLES. +(_sympathetic_) Oh, don’t take on so, brother. We’re all sinners. + +SPINTHO. +(_snivelling, trying to feel consoled_). Yes: I daresay if the truth +were known, you’re all as bad as I am. + +LAVINIA. +(_contemptuously_) Does that comfort you? + +FERROVIUS. +(_sternly_) Pray, man, pray. + +SPINTHO. +What’s the good of praying? If we’re martyred we shall go to heaven, +shan’t we, whether we pray or not? + +FERROVIUS. +What’s that? Not pray! (_Seizing him again_) Pray this instant, you +dog, you rotten hound, you slimy snake, you beastly goat, or— + +SPINTHO. +Yes: beat me: kick me. I forgive you: mind that. + +FERROVIUS. +(_spurning him with loathing_) Yah! (_Spintho reels away and falls in +front of Ferrovius_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_reaching out and catching the skirt of Ferrovius’s tunic_) Dear +brother: if you wouldn’t mind—just for my sake— + +FERROVIUS. +Well? + +ANDROCLES. +Don’t call him by the names of the animals. We’ve no right to. I’ve had +such friends in dogs. A pet snake is the best of company. I was nursed +on goat’s milk. Is it fair to them to call the like of him a dog or a +snake or a goat? + +FERROVIUS. +I only meant that they have no souls. + +ANDROCLES. +(_anxiously protesting_) Oh, believe me, they have. Just the same as +you and me. I really don’t think I could consent to go to heaven if I +thought there were to be no animals there. Think of what they suffer +here. + +FERROVIUS. +That’s true. Yes: that is just. They will have their share in heaven. + +SPINTHO. +(_who has picked himself up and is sneaking past Ferrovius on his left, +sneers derisively_)!! + +FERROVIUS. +(_turning on him fiercely_) What’s that you say? + +SPINTHO. +(_cornering_). Nothing. + +FERROVIUS. +(_clenching his fist_) Do animals go to heaven or not? + +SPINTHO. +I never said they didn’t. + +FERROVIUS. +(_implacable_) Do they or do they not? + +SPINTHO. +They do: they do. (_Scrambling out of Ferrovius’s reach_). Oh, curse +you for frightening me! + +_A bugle call is heard._ + +CENTURION. +(_waking up_) Tention! Form as before. Now then, prisoners, up with you +and trot along spry. (_The soldiers fall in. The Christians rise_). + +A man with an ox goad comes running through the central arch. + +THE OX DRIVER. +Here, you soldiers! clear out of the way for the Emperor. + +THE CENTURION. +Emperor! Where’s the Emperor? You ain’t the Emperor, are you? + +THE OX DRIVER. +It’s the menagerie service. My team of oxen is drawing the new lion to +the Coliseum. You clear the road. + +CENTURION. +What! Go in after you in your dust, with half the town at the heels of +you and your lion! Not likely. We go first. + +THE OX DRIVER. +The menagerie service is the Emperor’s personal retinue. You clear out, +I tell you. + +CENTURION. +You tell me, do you? Well, I’ll tell you something. If the lion is +menagerie service, the lion’s dinner is menagerie service too. This +(_pointing to the Christians_) is the lion’s dinner. So back with you +to your bullocks double quick; and learn your place. March. (_The +soldiers start_). Now then, you Christians, step out there. + +LAVINIA. +(_marching_) Come along, the rest of the dinner. I shall be the olives +and anchovies. + +ANOTHER CHRISTIAN. +(_laughing_) I shall be the soup. + +ANOTHER. I shall be the fish. + +ANOTHER. Ferrovius shall be the roast boar. + +FERROVIUS. +(_heavily_) I see the joke. Yes, yes: I shall be the roast boar. Ha! +ha! (_He laughs conscientiously and marches out with them_). + +ANDROCLES. +I shall be the mince pie. (_Each announcement is received with a louder +laugh by all the rest as the joke catches on_). + +CENTURION. +(_scandalised_) Silence! Have some sense of your situation. Is this the +way for martyrs to behave? (_To Spintho, who is quaking and loitering_) +I know what you’ll be at that dinner. You’ll be the emetic. (_He shoves +him rudely along_). + +SPINTHO. +It’s too dreadful: I’m not fit to die. + +CENTURION. +Fitter than you are to live, you swine. + +_They pass from the square westward. The oxen, drawing a waggon with a +great wooden cage and the lion in it, arrive through the central arch._ + + + + + ACT II + + +Behind the Emperor’s box at the Coliseum, where the performers assemble +before entering the arena. In the middle a wide passage leading to the +arena descends from the floor level under the imperial box. On both +sides of this passage steps ascend to a landing at the back entrance to +the box. The landing forms a bridge across the passage. At the entrance +to the passage are two bronze mirrors, one on each side. + +On the west side of this passage, on the right hand of any one coming +from the box and standing on the bridge, the martyrs are sitting on the +steps. Lavinia is seated half-way up, thoughtful, trying to look death +in the face. On her left Androcles consoles himself by nursing a cat. +Ferrovius stands behind them, his eyes blazing, his figure stiff with +intense resolution. At the foot of the steps crouches Spintho, with his +head clutched in his hands, full of horror at the approach of +martyrdom. + +On the east side of the passage the gladiators are standing and sitting +at ease, waiting, like the Christians, for their turn in the arena. One +(_Retiarius_) is a nearly naked man with a net and a trident. Another +(_Secutor_) is in armor with a sword. He carries a helmet with a barred +visor. The editor of the gladiators sits on a chair a little apart from +them. + +_The Call Boy enters from the passage._ + +THE CALL BOY. +Number six. Retiarius versus Secutor. + +_The gladiator with the net picks it up. The gladiator with the helmet +puts it on; and the two go into the arena, the net thrower taking out a +little brush and arranging his hair as he goes, the other tightening +his straps and shaking his shoulders loose. Both look at themselves in +the mirrors before they enter the passage._ + +LAVINIA. +Will they really kill one another? + +SPINTHO. +Yes, if the people turn down their thumbs. + +THE EDITOR. +You know nothing about it. The people indeed! Do you suppose we would +kill a man worth perhaps fifty talents to please the riffraff? I should +like to catch any of my men at it. + +SPINTHO. +I thought— + +THE EDITOR. +(_contemptuously_) You thought! Who cares what you think? You’ll be +killed all right enough. + +SPINTHO. +(_groans and again hides his face_)!!! Then is nobody ever killed +except us poor— + +LAVINIA. +Christians? + +THE EDITOR. +If the vestal virgins turn down their thumbs, that’s another matter. +They’re ladies of rank. + +LAVINIA. +Does the Emperor ever interfere? + +THE EDITOR. +Oh, yes: he turns his thumbs up fast enough if the vestal virgins want +to have one of his pet fighting men killed. + +ANDROCLES. +But don’t they ever just only pretend to kill one another? Why +shouldn’t you pretend to die, and get dragged out as if you were dead; +and then get up and go home, like an actor? + +THE EDITOR. +See here: you want to know too much. There will be no pretending about +the new lion: let that be enough for you. He’s hungry. + +SPINTHO. +(_groaning with horror_) Oh, Lord! Can’t you stop talking about it? +Isn’t it bad enough for us without that? + +ANDROCLES. +I’m glad he’s hungry. Not that I want him to suffer, poor chap! but +then he’ll enjoy eating me so much more. There’s a cheerful side to +everything. + +THE EDITOR. +(_rising and striding over to Androcles_) Here: don’t you be obstinate. +Come with me and drop the pinch of incense on the altar. That’s all you +need do to be let off. + +ANDROCLES. +No: thank you very much indeed; but I really mustn’t. + +THE EDITOR. +What! Not to save your life? + +ANDROCLES. +I’d rather not. I couldn’t sacrifice to Diana: she’s a huntress, you +know, and kills things. + +THE EDITOR. +That don’t matter. You can choose your own altar. Sacrifice to Jupiter: +he likes animals: he turns himself into an animal when he goes off +duty. + +ANDROCLES. +No: it’s very kind of you; but I feel I can’t save myself that way. + +THE EDITOR. +But I don’t ask you to do it to save yourself: I ask you to do it to +oblige me personally. + +ANDROCLES. +(_scrambling up in the greatest agitation_) Oh, please don’t say that. +That is dreadful. You mean so kindly by me that it seems quite horrible +to disoblige you. If you could arrange for me to sacrifice when there’s +nobody looking, I shouldn’t mind. But I must go into the arena with the +rest. My honor, you know. + +THE EDITOR. +Honor! The honor of a tailor? + +ANDROCLES. +(_apologetically_) Well, perhaps honor is too strong an expression. +Still, you know, I couldn’t allow the tailors to get a bad name through +me. + +THE EDITOR. +How much will you remember of all that when you smell the beast’s +breath and see his jaws opening to tear out your throat? + +SPINTHO. +(_rising with a yell of terror_) I can’t bear it. Where’s the altar? +I’ll sacrifice. + +FERROVIUS. +Dog of an apostate. Iscariot! + +SPINTHO. +I’ll repent afterwards. I fully mean to die in the arena I’ll die a +martyr and go to heaven; but not this time, not now, not until my +nerves are better. Besides, I’m too young: I want to have just one more +good time. (_The gladiators laugh at him_). Oh, will no one tell me +where the altar is? (_He dashes into the passage and vanishes_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_to the Editor, pointing after Spintho_) Brother: I can’t do that, not +even to oblige you. Don’t ask me. + +THE EDITOR. +Well, if you’re determined to die, I can’t help you. But I wouldn’t be +put off by a swine like that. + +FERROVIUS. +Peace, peace: tempt him not. Get thee behind him, Satan. + +THE EDITOR. +(_flushing with rage_) For two pins I’d take a turn in the arena myself +to-day, and pay you out for daring to talk to me like that. + +_Ferrovius springs forward._ + +LAVINIA. +(_rising quickly and interposing_) Brother, brother: you forget. + +FERROVIUS. +(_curbing himself by a mighty effort_) Oh, my temper, my wicked temper! +(_To the Editor, as Lavinia sits down again, reassured_). Forgive me, +brother. My heart was full of wrath: I should have been thinking of +your dear precious soul. + +THE EDITOR. +Yah! (_He turns his back on Ferrovius contemptuously, and goes back to +his seat_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_continuing_) And I forgot it all: I thought of nothing but offering +to fight you with one hand tied behind me. + +THE EDITOR. +(_turning pugnaciously_) What! + +FERROVIUS. +(_on the border line between zeal and ferocity_) Oh, don’t give way to +pride and wrath, brother. I could do it so easily. I could— + +_They are separated by the Menagerie Keeper, who rushes in from the +passage, furious._ + +THE KEEPER. +Here’s a nice business! Who let that Christian out of here down to the +dens when we were changing the lion into the cage next the arena? + +THE EDITOR. +Nobody let him. He let himself. + +THE KEEPER. +Well, the lion’s ate him. + +_Consternation. The Christians rise, greatly agitated. The gladiators +sit callously, but are highly amused. All speak or cry out or laugh at +once. Tumult._ + +LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished. Praise +be to God’s justice! ANDROCLES. The poor beast was starving. It +couldn’t help itself. THE CHRISTIANS. What! Ate him! How frightful! How +terrible! Without a moment to repent! God be merciful to him, a sinner! +Oh, I can’t bear to think of it! In the midst of his sin! Horrible, +horrible! THE EDITOR. Serve the rotter right! THE GLADIATORS. Just +walked into it, he did. He’s martyred all right enough. Good old lion! +Old Jock doesn’t like that: look at his face. Devil a better! The +Emperor will laugh when he hears of it. I can’t help smiling. Ha ha +ha!!!!! + +THE KEEPER. +Now his appetite’s taken off, he won’t as much as look at another +Christian for a week. + +ANDROCLES. +Couldn’t you have saved him brother? + +THE KEEPER. +Saved him! Saved him from a lion that I’d just got mad with hunger! a +wild one that came out of the forest not four weeks ago! He bolted him +before you could say Balbus. + +LAVINIA. +(_sitting down again_) Poor Spintho! And it won’t even count as +martyrdom! + +THE KEEPER. +Serve him right! What call had he to walk down the throat of one of my +lions before he was asked? + +ANDROCLES. +Perhaps the lion won’t eat me now. + +THE KEEPER. +Yes: that’s just like a Christian: think only of yourself! What am I to +do? What am I to say to the Emperor when he sees one of my lions coming +into the arena half asleep? + +THE EDITOR. +Say nothing. Give your old lion some bitters and a morsel of fried fish +to wake up his appetite. (_Laughter_). + +THE KEEPER. +Yes: it’s easy for you to talk; but— + +THE EDITOR. +(_scrambling to his feet_) Sh! Attention there! The Emperor. (_The +Keeper bolts precipitately into the passage. The gladiators rise +smartly and form into line_). + +The Emperor enters on the Christians’ side, conversing with Metellus, +and followed by his suite. + +THE GLADIATORS. +Hail, Caesar! those about to die salute thee. + +CAESAR. +Good morrow, friends. + +_Metellus shakes hands with the Editor, who accepts his condescension +with bluff respect._ + +LAVINIA. +Blessing, Caesar, and forgiveness! + +CAESAR. +(_turning in some surprise at the salutation_) There is no forgiveness +for Christianity. + +LAVINIA. +I did not mean that, Caesar. I mean that we forgive you. + +METELLUS. +An inconceivable liberty! Do you not know, woman, that the Emperor can +do no wrong and therefore cannot be forgiven? + +LAVINIA. +I expect the Emperor knows better. Anyhow, we forgive him. + +THE CHRISTIANS. Amen! + +CAESAR. +Metellus: you see now the disadvantage of too much severity. These +people have no hope; therefore they have nothing to restrain them from +saying what they like to me. They are almost as impertinent as the +gladiators. Which is the Greek sorcerer? + +ANDROCLES. +(_humbly touching his forelock_) Me, your Worship. + +CAESAR. +My Worship! Good! A new title. Well, what miracles can you perform? + +ANDROCLES. +I can cure warts by rubbing them with my tailor’s chalk; and I can live +with my wife without beating her. + +CAESAR. +Is that all? + +ANDROCLES. +You don’t know her, Caesar, or you wouldn’t say that. + +CAESAR. +Ah, well, my friend, we shall no doubt contrive a happy release for +you. Which is Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. +I am he. + +CAESAR. +They tell me you can fight. + +FERROVIUS. +It is easy to fight. I can die, Caesar. + +CAESAR. +That is still easier, is it not? + +FERROVIUS. +Not to me, Caesar. Death comes hard to my flesh; and fighting comes +very easily to my spirit (_beating his breast and lamenting_) O sinner +that I am! (_He throws himself down on the steps, deeply discouraged_). + +CAESAR. +Metellus: I should like to have this man in the Pretorian Guard. + +METELLUS. +I should not, Caesar. He looks a spoilsport. There are men in whose +presence it is impossible to have any fun: men who are a sort of +walking conscience. He would make us all uncomfortable. + +CAESAR. +For that reason, perhaps, it might be well to have him. An Emperor can +hardly have too many consciences. (_To Ferrovius_) Listen, Ferrovius. +(_Ferrovius shakes his head and will not look up_). You and your +friends shall not be outnumbered to-day in the arena. You shall have +arms; and there will be no more than one gladiator to each Christian. +If you come out of the arena alive, I will consider favorably any +request of yours, and give you a place in the Pretorian Guard. Even if +the request be that no questions be asked about your faith I shall +perhaps not refuse it. + +FERROVIUS. +I will not fight. I will die. Better stand with the archangels than +with the Pretorian Guard. + +CAESAR. +I cannot believe that the archangels—whoever they may be—would not +prefer to be recruited from the Pretorian Guard. However, as you +please. Come: let us see the show. + +_As the Court ascends the steps, Secutor and the Retiarius return from +the arena through the passage; Secutor covered with dust and very +angry: Retiarius grinning._ + +SECUTOR. +Ha, the Emperor. Now we shall see. Caesar: I ask you whether it is fair +for the Retiarius, instead of making a fair throw of his net at me, to +swish it along the ground and throw the dust in my eyes, and then catch +me when I’m blinded. If the vestals had not turned up their thumbs I +should have been a dead man. + +CAESAR. +(_halting on the stair_) There is nothing in the rules against it. + +SECUTOR. +(_indignantly_) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not? + +CAESAR. +It is a dusty one, my friend. (_Obsequious laughter_). Be on your guard +next time. + +SECUTOR. +Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I’ll throw my sword at his heels and +strangle him with his own net before he can hop off. (_To Retiarius_) +You see if I don’t. (_He goes out past the gladiators, sulky and +furious_). + +CAESAR. +(_to the chuckling Retiarius_). These tricks are not wise, my friend. +The audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty and splendor. If +you smudge his face and spoil his armor they will show their +displeasure by not letting you kill him. And when your turn comes, they +will remember it against you and turn their thumbs down. + +THE RETIARIUS. +Perhaps that is why I did it, Caesar. He bet me ten sesterces that he +would vanquish me. If I had had to kill him I should not have had the +money. + +CAESAR. +(_indulgent, laughing_) You rogues: there is no end to your tricks. +I’ll dismiss you all and have elephants to fight. They fight fairly. +(_He goes up to his box, and knocks at it. It is opened from within by +the Captain, who stands as on parade to let him pass_). The Call Boy +comes from the passage, followed by three attendants carrying +respectively a bundle of swords, some helmets, and some breastplates +and pieces of armor which they throw down in a heap. + +THE CALL BOY. +By your leave, Caesar. Number eleven! Gladiators and Christians! + +_Ferrovius springs up, ready for martyrdom. The other Christians take +the summons as best they can, some joyful and brave, some patient and +dignified, some tearful and helpless, some embracing one another with +emotion. The Call Boy goes back into the passage._ + +CAESAR. +(_turning at the door of the box_) The hour has come, Ferrovius. I +shall go into my box and see you killed, since you scorn the Pretorian +Guard. (_He goes into the box. The Captain shuts the door, remaining +inside with the Emperor. Metellus and the rest of the suite disperse to +their seats. The Christians, led by Ferrovius, move towards the +passage_). + +LAVINIA. +(_to Ferrovius_) Farewell. + +THE EDITOR. +Steady there. You Christians have got to fight. Here! arm yourselves. + +FERROVIUS. +(_picking up a sword_) I’ll die sword in hand to show people that I +could fight if it were my Master’s will, and that I could kill the man +who kills me if I chose. + +THE EDITOR. +Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS. +No armor. + +THE EDITOR. +(_bullying him_) Do what you’re told. Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS. +(_gripping the sword and looking dangerous_) I said, No armor. + +THE EDITOR. +And what am I to say when I am accused of sending a naked man in to +fight my men in armor? + +FERROVIUS. +Say your prayers, brother; and have no fear of the princes of this +world. + +THE EDITOR. +Tsha! You obstinate fool! (_He bites his lips irresolutely, not knowing +exactly what to do_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_to Ferrovius_) Farewell, brother, till we meet in the sweet +by-and-by. + +THE EDITOR. +(_to Androcles_) You are going too. Take a sword there; and put on any +armor you can find to fit you. + +ANDROCLES. +No, really: I can’t fight: I never could. I can’t bring myself to +dislike anyone enough. I’m to be thrown to the lions with the lady. + +THE EDITOR. +Then get out of the way and hold your noise. (_Androcles steps aside +with cheerful docility_). Now then! Are you all ready there? + +_A trumpet is heard from the arena._ + +FERROVIUS. +(_starting convulsively_) Heaven give me strength! + +THE EDITOR. +Aha! That frightens you, does it? + +FERROVIUS. +Man: there is no terror like the terror of that sound to me. When I +hear a trumpet or a drum or the clash of steel or the hum of the +catapult as the great stone flies, fire runs through my veins: I feel +my blood surge up hot behind my eyes: I must charge: I must strike: I +must conquer: Caesar himself will not be safe in his imperial seat if +once that spirit gets loose in me. Oh, brothers, pray! exhort me! +remind me that if I raise my sword my honor falls and my Master is +crucified afresh. + +ANDROCLES. +Just keep thinking how cruelly you might hurt the poor gladiators. + +FERROVIUS. +It does not hurt a man to kill him. + +LAVINIA. +Nothing but faith can save you. + +FERROVIUS. +Faith! Which faith? There are two faiths. There is our faith. And there +is the warrior’s faith, the faith in fighting, the faith that sees God +in the sword. How if that faith should overwhelm me? + +LAVINIA. +You will find your real faith in the hour of trial. + +FERROVIUS. +That is what I fear. I know that I am a fighter. How can I feel sure +that I am a Christian? + +ANDROCLES. +Throw away the sword, brother. + +FERROVIUS. +I cannot. It cleaves to my hand. I could as easily throw a woman I +loved from my arms. (_Starting_) Who spoke that blasphemy? Not I. + +LAVINIA. +I can’t help you, friend. I can’t tell you not to save your own life. +Something wilful in me wants to see you fight your way into heaven. + +FERROVIUS. +Ha! + +ANDROCLES. +But if you are going to give up our faith, brother, why not do it +without hurting anybody? Don’t fight them. Burn the incense. + +FERROVIUS. +Burn the incense! Never. + +LAVINIA. +That is only pride, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. +ONLY pride! What is nobler than pride? (_Conscience stricken_) Oh, I’m +steeped in sin. I’m proud of my pride. + +LAVINIA. +They say we Christians are the proudest devils on earth—that only the +weak are meek. Oh, I am worse than you. I ought to send you to death; +and I am tempting you. + +ANDROCLES. +Brother, brother: let them rage and kill: let us be brave and suffer. +You must go as a lamb to the slaughter. + +FERROVIUS. +Aye, aye: that is right. Not as a lamb is slain by the butcher; but as +a butcher might let himself be slain by a (_looking at the Editor_) by +a silly ram whose head he could fetch off in one twist. + +_Before the Editor can retort, the Call Boy rushes up through the +passage; and the Captain comes from the Emperor’s box and descends the +steps._ + +THE CALL BOY. +In with you: into the arena. The stage is waiting. + +THE CAPTAIN. +The Emperor is waiting. (_To the Editor_) What are you dreaming of, +man? Send your men in at once. + +THE EDITOR. +Yes, Sir: it’s these Christians hanging back. + +FERROVIUS. +(_in a voice of thunder_) Liar! + +THE EDITOR. +(_not heeding him_) March. (_The gladiators told off to fight with the +Christians march down the passage_) Follow up there, you. + +THE CHRISTIAN MEN AND WOMEN. +(_as they part_) Be steadfast, brother. Farewell. Hold up the faith, +brother. Farewell. Go to glory, dearest. Farewell. Remember: we are +praying for you. Farewell. Be strong, brother. Farewell. Don’t forget +that the divine love and our love surround you. Farewell. Nothing can +hurt you: remember that, brother. Farewell. Eternal glory, dearest. +Farewell. + +THE EDITOR. +(_out of patience_) Shove them in, there. + +_The remaining gladiators and the Call Boy make a movement towards +them._ + +FERROVIUS. +(_interposing_) Touch them, dogs; and we die here, and cheat the +heathen of their spectacle. (_To his fellow Christians_) Brothers: the +great moment has come. That passage is your hill to Calvary. Mount it +bravely, but meekly; and remember! not a word of reproach, not a blow +nor a struggle. Go. (_They go out through the passage. He turns to +Lavinia_) Farewell. + +LAVINIA. +You forget: I must follow before you are cold. + +FERROVIUS. +It is true. Do not envy me because I pass before you to glory. (_He +goes through the passage_). + +THE EDITOR. +(_to the Call Boy_) Sickening work, this. Why can’t they all be thrown +to the lions? It’s not a man’s job. (_He throws himself moodily into +his chair_). + +_The remaining gladiators go back to their former places indifferently. +The Call Boy shrugs his shoulders and squats down at the entrance to +the passage, near the Editor._ + +_Lavinia and the Christian women sit down again, wrung with grief, some +weeping silently, some praying, some calm and steadfast. Androcles sits +down at Lavinia’s feet. The Captain stands on the stairs, watching her +curiously._ + +ANDROCLES. +I’m glad I haven’t to fight. That would really be an awful martyrdom. I +am lucky. + +LAVINIA. +(_looking at him with a pang of remorse_). Androcles: burn the incense: +you’ll be forgiven. Let my death atone for both. I feel as if I were +killing you. + +ANDROCLES. +Don’t think of me, sister. Think of yourself. That will keep your heart +up. + +_The Captain laughs sardonically._ + +LAVINIA. +(_startled: she had forgotten his presence_) Are you there, handsome +Captain? Have you come to see me die? + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_coming to her side_) I am on duty with the Emperor, Lavinia. + +LAVINIA. +Is it part of your duty to laugh at us? + +THE CAPTAIN. +No: that is part of my private pleasure. Your friend here is a +humorist. I laughed at his telling you to think of yourself to keep up +your heart. I say, think of yourself and burn the incense. + +LAVINIA. +He is not a humorist: he was right. You ought to know that, Captain: +you have been face to face with death. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Not with certain death, Lavinia. Only death in battle, which spares +more men than death in bed. What you are facing is certain death. You +have nothing left now but your faith in this craze of yours: this +Christianity. Are your Christian fairy stories any truer than our +stories about Jupiter and Diana, in which, I may tell you, I believe no +more than the Emperor does, or any educated man in Rome? + +LAVINIA. +Captain: all that seems nothing to me now. I’ll not say that death is a +terrible thing; but I will say that it is so real a thing that when it +comes close, all the imaginary things—all the stories, as you call +them—fade into mere dreams beside that inexorable reality. I know now +that I am not dying for stories or dreams. Did you hear of the dreadful +thing that happened here while we were waiting? + +THE CAPTAIN. +I heard that one of your fellows bolted, and ran right into the jaws of +the lion. I laughed. I still laugh. + +LAVINIA. +Then you don’t understand what that meant? + +THE CAPTAIN. +It meant that the lion had a cur for his breakfast. + +LAVINIA. +It meant more than that, Captain. It meant that a man cannot die for a +story and a dream. None of us believed the stories and the dreams more +devoutly than poor Spintho; but he could not face the great reality. +What he would have called my faith has been oozing away minute by +minute whilst I’ve been sitting here, with death coming nearer and +nearer, with reality becoming realler and realler, with stories and +dreams fading away into nothing. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Are you then going to die for nothing? + +LAVINIA. +Yes: that is the wonderful thing. It is since all the stories and +dreams have gone that I have now no doubt at all that I must die for +something greater than dreams or stories. + +THE CAPTAIN. +But for what? + +LAVINIA. +I don’t know. If it were for anything small enough to know, it would be +too small to die for. I think I’m going to die for God. Nothing else is +real enough to die for. + +THE CAPTAIN. +What is God? + +LAVINIA. +When we know that, Captain, we shall be gods ourselves. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Lavinia; come down to earth. Burn the incense and marry me. + +LAVINIA. +Handsome Captain: would you marry me if I hauled down the flag in the +day of battle and burnt the incense? Sons take after their mothers, you +know. Do you want your son to be a coward? + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_strongly moved_). By great Diana, I think I would strangle you if you +gave in now. + +LAVINIA. +(_putting her hand on the head of Androcles_) The hand of God is on us +three, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. +What nonsense it all is! And what a monstrous thing that you should die +for such nonsense, and that I should look on helplessly when my whole +soul cries out against it! Die then if you must; but at least I can cut +the Emperor’s throat and then my own when I see your blood. + +The Emperor throws open the door of his box angrily, and appears in +wrath on the threshold. The Editor, the Call Boy, and the gladiators +spring to their feet. + +THE EMPEROR. +The Christians will not fight; and your curs cannot get their blood up +to attack them. It’s all that fellow with the blazing eyes. Send for +the whip. (_The Call Boy rushes out on the east side for the whip_). If +that will not move them, bring the hot irons. The man is like a +mountain. (_He returns angrily into the box and slams the door_). + +_The Call Boy returns with a man in a hideous Etruscan mask, carrying a +whip. They both rush down the passage into the arena._ + +LAVINIA. +(_rising_) Oh, that is unworthy. Can they not kill him without +dishonoring him? + +ANDROCLES. +(_scrambling to his feet and running into the middle of the space +between the staircases_) It’s dreadful. Now I want to fight. I can’t +bear the sight of a whip. The only time I ever hit a man was when he +lashed an old horse with a whip. It was terrible: I danced on his face +when he was on the ground. He mustn’t strike Ferrovius: I’ll go into +the arena and kill him first. (_He makes a wild dash into the passage. +As he does so a great clamor is heard from the arena, ending in wild +applause. The gladiators listen and look inquiringly at one another_). + +THE EDITOR. +What’s up now? + +LAVINIA. +(_to the Captain_) What has happened, do you think? + +THE CAPTAIN. +What CAN happen? They are killing them, I suppose. + +ANDROCLES. +(_running in through the passage, screaming with horror and hiding his +eyes_)!!! + +LAVINIA. +Androcles, Androcles: what’s the matter? + +ANDROCLES. +Oh, don’t ask me, don’t ask me. Something too dreadful. Oh! (_He +crouches by her and hides his face in her robe, sobbing_). + +THE CALL BOY. (_rushing through from the passage as before_) Ropes and +hooks there! Ropes and hooks. + +THE EDITOR. +Well, need you excite yourself about it? (_Another burst of applause_). + +_Two slaves in Etruscan masks, with ropes and drag hooks, hurry in._ + +ONE OF THE SLAVES. How many dead? + +THE CALL BOY. +Six. (_The slave blows a whistle twice; and four more masked slaves +rush through into the arena with the same apparatus_) And the basket. +Bring the baskets. (_The slave whistles three times, and runs through +the passage with his companion_). + +THE CAPTAIN. +Who are the baskets for? + +THE CALL BOY. +For the whip. He’s in pieces. They’re all in pieces, more or less. +(_Lavinia hides her face_). + +(_Two more masked slaves come in with a basket and follow the others +into the arena, as the Call Boy turns to the gladiators and exclaims, +exhausted_) + +Boys, he’s killed the lot. + +THE EMPEROR. +(_again bursting from his box, this time in an ecstasy of delight_) +Where is he? Magnificent! He shall have a laurel crown. + +_Ferrovius, madly waving his bloodstained sword, rushes through the +passage in despair, followed by his co-religionists, and by the +menagerie keeper, who goes to the gladiators. The gladiators draw their +swords nervously._ + +FERROVIUS. +Lost! lost forever! I have betrayed my Master. Cut off this right hand: +it has offended. Ye have swords, my brethren: strike. + +LAVINIA. +No, no. What have you done, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. +I know not; but there was blood behind my eyes; and there’s blood on my +sword. What does that mean? + +THE EMPEROR. +(_enthusiastically, on the landing outside his box_) What does it mean? +It means that you are the greatest man in Rome. It means that you shall +have a laurel crown of gold. Superb fighter, I could almost yield you +my throne. It is a record for my reign: I shall live in history. Once, +in Domitian’s time, a Gaul slew three men in the arena and gained his +freedom. But when before has one naked man slain six armed men of the +bravest and best? The persecution shall cease: if Christians can fight +like this, I shall have none but Christians to fight for me. (_To the +Gladiators_) You are ordered to become Christians, you there: do you +hear? + +RETIARIUS. It is all one to us, Caesar. Had I been there with my net, +the story would have been different. + +THE CAPTAIN. +(_suddenly seizing Lavinia by the wrist and dragging her up the steps +to the Emperor_) Caesar this woman is the sister of Ferrovius. If she +is thrown to the lions he will fret. He will lose weight; get out of +condition. + +THE EMPEROR. +The lions? Nonsense! (_To Lavinia_) Madam: I am proud to have the honor +of making your acquaintance. Your brother is the glory of Rome. + +LAVINIA. +But my friends here. Must they die? + +THE EMPEROR. +Die! Certainly not. There has never been the slightest idea of harming +them. Ladies and gentlemen: you are all free. Pray go into the front of +the house and enjoy the spectacle to which your brother has so +splendidly contributed. Captain: oblige me by conducting them to the +seats reserved for my personal friends. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. +Caesar: I must have one Christian for the lion. The people have been +promised it; and they will tear the decorations to bits if they are +disappointed. + +THE EMPEROR. +True, true: we must have somebody for the new lion. + +FERROVIUS. +Throw me to him. Let the apostate perish. + +THE EMPEROR. +No, no: you would tear him in pieces, my friend; and we cannot afford +to throw away lions as if they were mere slaves. But we must have +somebody. This is really extremely awkward. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. +Why not that little Greek chap? He’s not a Christian: he’s a sorcerer. + +THE EMPEROR. +The very thing: he will do very well. + +THE CALL BOY. (_issuing from the passage_) Number twelve. The Christian +for the new lion. + +ANDROCLES. +(_rising, and pulling himself sadly together_) Well, it was to be, +after all. + +LAVINIA. +I’ll go in his place, Caesar. Ask the Captain whether they do not like +best to see a woman torn to pieces. He told me so yesterday. + +THE EMPEROR. +There is something in that: there is certainly something in that—if +only I could feel sure that your brother would not fret. + +ANDROCLES. +No: I should never have another happy hour. No: on the faith of a +Christian and the honor of a tailor, I accept the lot that has fallen +on me. If my wife turns up, give her my love and say that my wish was +that she should be happy with her next, poor fellow! Caesar: go to your +box and see how a tailor can die. Make way for number twelve there. +(_He marches out along the passage_). + +_The vast audience in the amphitheatre now sees the Emperor re-enter +his box and take his place as Androcles, desperately frightened, but +still marching with piteous devotion, emerges from the other end of the +passage, and finds himself at the focus of thousands of eager eyes. The +lion’s cage, with a heavy portcullis grating, is on his left. The +Emperor gives a signal. A gong sounds. Androcles shivers at the sound; +then falls on his knees and prays._ + +_The grating rises with a clash. The lion bounds into the arena. He +rushes round frisking in his freedom. He sees Androcles. He stops; +rises stiffly by straightening his legs; stretches out his nose forward +and his tail in a horizontal line behind, like a pointer, and utters an +appalling roar. Androcles crouches and hides his face in his hands. The +lion gathers himself for a spring, swishing his tail to and fro through +the dust in an ecstasy of anticipation. Androcles throws up his hands +in supplication to heaven. The lion checks at the sight of Androcles’s +face. He then steals towards him; smells him; arches his back; purrs +like a motor car; finally rubs himself against Androcles, knocking him +over. Androcles, supporting himself on his wrist, looks affrightedly at +the lion. The lion limps on three paws, holding up the other as if it +was wounded. A flash of recognition lights up the face of Androcles. He +flaps his hand as if it had a thorn in it, and pretends to pull the +thorn out and to hurt himself. The lion nods repeatedly. Androcles +holds out his hands to the lion, who gives him both paws, which he +shakes with enthusiasm. They embrace rapturously, finally waltz round +the arena amid a sudden burst of deafening applause, and out through +the passage, the Emperor watching them in breathless astonishment until +they disappear, when he rushes from his box and descends the steps in +frantic excitement._ + +THE EMPEROR. +My friends, an incredible! an amazing thing! has happened. I can no +longer doubt the truth of Christianity. (_The Christians press to him +joyfully_) This Christian sorcerer—(_with a yell, he breaks off as he +sees Androcles and the lion emerge from the passage, waltzing. He bolts +wildly up the steps into his box, and slams the door. All, Christians +and gladiators’ alike, fly for their lives, the gladiators bolting into +the arena, the others in all directions. The place is emptied with +magical suddenness_). + +ANDROCLES. +(_naively_) Now I wonder why they all run away from us like that. (_The +lion combining a series of yawns, purrs, and roars, achieves something +very like a laugh_). + +THE EMPEROR. +(_standing on a chair inside his box and looking over the wall_) +Sorcerer: I command you to put that lion to death instantly. It is +guilty of high treason. Your conduct is most disgra— (_the lion charges +at him up the stairs_) help! (_He disappears. The lion rears against +the box; looks over the partition at him, and roars. The Emperor darts +out through the door and down to Androcles, pursued by the lion._) + +ANDROCLES. +Don’t run away, sir: he can’t help springing if you run. (_He seizes +the Emperor and gets between him and the lion, who stops at once_). +Don’t be afraid of him. + +THE EMPEROR. +I am NOT afraid of him. (_The lion crouches, growling. The Emperor +clutches Androcles_) Keep between us. + +ANDROCLES. +Never be afraid of animals, your Worship: that’s the great secret. +He’ll be as gentle as a lamb when he knows that you are his friend. +Stand quite still; and smile; and let him smell you all over just to +reassure him; for, you see, he’s afraid of you; and he must examine you +thoroughly before he gives you his confidence. (_To the lion_) Come +now, Tommy; and speak nicely to the Emperor, the great, good Emperor +who has power to have all our heads cut off if we don’t behave very, +VERY respectfully to him. + +_The lion utters a fearful roar. The Emperor dashes madly up the steps, +across the landing, and down again on the other side, with the lion in +hot pursuit. Androcles rushes after the lion; overtakes him as he is +descending; and throws himself on his back, trying to use his toes as a +brake. Before he can stop him the lion gets hold of the trailing end of +the Emperor’s robe._ + +ANDROCLES. +Oh bad wicked Tommy, to chase the Emperor like that! Let go the +Emperor’s robe at once, sir: where’s your manners? (_The lion growls +and worries the robe_). Don’t pull it away from him, your worship. He’s +only playing. Now I shall be really angry with you, Tommy, if you don’t +let go. (_The lion growls again_) I’ll tell you what it is, sir: he +thinks you and I are not friends. + +THE EMPEROR. +(_trying to undo the clasp of his brooch_) Friends! You infernal +scoundrel (_the lion growls_) don’t let him go. Curse this brooch! I +can’t get it loose. + +ANDROCLES. +We mustn’t let him lash himself into a rage. You must show him that you +are my particular friend—if you will have the condescension. (_He +seizes the Emperor’s hands, and shakes them cordially_), Look, Tommy: +the nice Emperor is the dearest friend Andy Wandy has in the whole +world: he loves him like a brother. + +THE EMPEROR. +You little brute, you damned filthy little dog of a Greek tailor: I’ll +have you burnt alive for daring to touch the divine person of the +Emperor. (_The lion roars_). + +ANDROCLES. +Oh don’t talk like that, sir. He understands every word you say: all +animals do: they take it from the tone of your voice. (_The lion growls +and lashes his tail_). I think he’s going to spring at your worship. If +you wouldn’t mind saying something affectionate. (_The lion roars_). + +THE EMPEROR. +(_shaking Androcles’ hands frantically_) My dearest Mr. Androcles, my +sweetest friend, my long lost brother, come to my arms. (_He embraces +Androcles_). Oh, what an abominable smell of garlic! + +_The lion lets go the robe and rolls over on his back, clasping his +forepaws over one another coquettishly above his nose._ + +ANDROCLES. +There! You see, your worship, a child might play with him now. See! +(_He tickles the lion’s belly. The lion wriggles ecstatically_). Come +and pet him. + +THE EMPEROR. +I must conquer these unkingly terrors. Mind you don’t go away from him, +though. (_He pats the lion’s chest_). + +ANDROCLES. +Oh, sir, how few men would have the courage to do that— + +THE EMPEROR. +Yes: it takes a bit of nerve. Let us invite the Court in and frighten +them. Is he safe, do you think? + +ANDROCLES. +Quite safe now, sir. + +THE EMPEROR. +(_majestically_) What ho, there! All who are within hearing, return +without fear. Caesar has tamed the lion. (_All the fugitives steal +cautiously in. The menagerie keeper comes from the passage with other +keepers armed with iron bars and tridents_). Take those things away. I +have subdued the beast. (_He places his foot on it_). + +FERROVIUS. +(_timidly approaching the Emperor and looking down with awe on the +lion_) It is strange that I, who fear no man, should fear a lion. + +THE CAPTAIN. +Every man fears something, Ferrovius. + +THE EMPEROR. +How about the Pretorian Guard now? + +FERROVIUS. +In my youth I worshipped Mars, the God of War. I turned from him to +serve the Christian god; but today the Christian god forsook me; and +Mars overcame me and took back his own. The Christian god is not yet. +He will come when Mars and I are dust; but meanwhile I must serve the +gods that are, not the God that will be. Until then I accept service in +the Guard, Caesar. + +THE EMPEROR. +Very wisely said. All really sensible men agree that the prudent course +is to be neither bigoted in our attachment to the old nor rash and +unpractical in keeping an open mind for the new, but to make the best +of both dispensations. + +THE CAPTAIN. +What do you say, Lavinia? Will you too be prudent? + +LAVINIA. +(_on the stair_) No: I’ll strive for the coming of the God who is not +yet. + +THE CAPTAIN. +May I come and argue with you occasionally? + +LAVINIA. +Yes, handsome Captain: you may. (_He kisses her hands_). + +THE EMPEROR. +And now, my friends, though I do not, as you see, fear this lion, yet +the strain of his presence is considerable; for none of us can feel +quite sure what he will do next. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. +Caesar: give us this Greek sorcerer to be a slave in the menagerie. He +has a way with the beasts. + +ANDROCLES. +(_distressed_). Not if they are in cages. They should not be kept in +cages. They must all be let out. + +THE EMPEROR. +I give this sorcerer to be a slave to the first man who lays hands on +him. (_The menagerie keepers and the gladiators rush for Androcles. The +lion starts up and faces them. They surge back_). You see how +magnanimous we Romans are, Androcles. We suffer you to go in peace. + +ANDROCLES. +I thank your worship. I thank you all, ladies and gentlemen. Come, +Tommy. Whilst we stand together, no cage for you: no slavery for me. +(_He goes out with the lion, everybody crowding away to give him as +wide a berth as possible_). + + +In this play I have represented one of the Roman persecutions of the +early Christians, not as the conflict of a false theology with a true, +but as what all such persecutions essentially are: an attempt to +suppress a propaganda that seemed to threaten the interests involved in +the established law and order, organized and maintained in the name of +religion and justice by politicians who are pure opportunist +Have-and-Holders. People who are shown by their inner light the +possibility of a better world based on the demand of the spirit for a +nobler and more abundant life, not for themselves at the expense of +others, but for everybody, are naturally dreaded and therefore hated by +the Have-and-Holders, who keep always in reserve two sure weapons +against them. The first is a persecution effected by the provocation, +organization, and arming of that herd instinct which makes men abhor +all departures from custom, and, by the most cruel punishments and the +wildest calumnies, force eccentric people to behave and profess exactly +as other people do. The second is by leading the herd to war, which +immediately and infallibly makes them forget everything, even their +most cherished and hardwon public liberties and private interests, in +the irresistible surge of their pugnacity and the tense pre-occupation +of their terror. + +There is no reason to believe that there was anything more in the Roman +persecutions than this. The attitude of the Roman Emperor and the +officers of his staff towards the opinions at issue were much the same +as those of a modern British Home Secretary towards members of the +lower middle classes when some pious policeman charges them with Bad +Taste, technically called blasphemy: Bad Taste being a violation of +Good Taste, which in such matters practically means Hypocrisy. The Home +Secretary and the judges who try the case are usually far more +sceptical and blasphemous than the poor men whom they persecute; and +their professions of horror at the blunt utterance of their own +opinions are revolting to those behind the scenes who have any genuine +religious sensibility; but the thing is done because the governing +classes, provided only the law against blasphemy is not applied to +themselves, strongly approve of such persecution because it enables +them to represent their own privileges as part of the religion of the +country. + +Therefore my martyrs are the martyrs of all time, and my persecutors +the persecutors of all time. My Emperor, who has no sense of the value +of common people’s lives, and amuses himself with killing as carelessly +as with sparing, is the sort of monster you can make of any +silly-clever gentleman by idolizing him. We are still so easily imposed +on by such idols that one of the leading pastors of the Free Churches +in London denounced my play on the ground that my persecuting Emperor +is a very fine fellow, and the persecuted Christians ridiculous. From +which I conclude that a popular pulpit may be as perilous to a man’s +soul as an imperial throne. + +All my articulate Christians, the reader will notice, have different +enthusiasms, which they accept as the same religion only because it +involves them in a common opposition to the official religion and +consequently in a common doom. Androcles is a humanitarian naturalist, +whose views surprise everybody. Lavinia, a clever and fearless +freethinker, shocks the Pauline Ferrovius, who is comparatively stupid +and conscience ridden. Spintho, the blackguardly debauchee, is +presented as one of the typical Christians of that period on the +authority of St. Augustine, who seems to have come to the conclusion at +one period of his development that most Christians were what we call +wrong uns. No doubt he was to some extent right: I have had occasion +often to point out that revolutionary movements attract those who are +not good enough for established institutions as well as those who are +too good for them. + +But the most striking aspect of the play at this moment is the terrible +topicality given it by the war. We were at peace when I pointed out, by +the mouth of Ferrovius, the path of an honest man who finds out, when +the trumpet sounds, that he cannot follow Jesus. Many years earlier, in +The Devil’s Disciple, I touched the same theme even more definitely, +and showed the minister throwing off his black coat for ever when he +discovered, amid the thunder of the captains and the shouting, that he +was a born fighter. Great numbers of our clergy have found themselves +of late in the position of Ferrovius and Anthony Anderson. They have +discovered that they hate not only their enemies but everyone who does +not share their hatred, and that they want to fight and to force other +people to fight. They have turned their churches into recruiting +stations and their vestries into munition workshops. But it has never +occurred to them to take off their black coats and say quite simply, “I +find in the hour of trial that the Sermon on the Mount is tosh, and +that I am not a Christian. I apologize for all the unpatriotic nonsense +I have been preaching all these years. Have the goodness to give me a +revolver and a commission in a regiment which has for its chaplain a +priest of the god Mars: my God.” Not a bit of it. They have stuck to +their livings and served Mars in the name of Christ, to the scandal of +all religious mankind. When the Archbishop of York behaved like a +gentleman and the Head Master of Eton preached a Christian sermon, and +were reviled by the rabble, the Martian parsons encouraged the rabble. +For this they made no apologies or excuses, good or bad. They simple +indulged their passions, just as they had always indulged their class +prejudices and commercial interests, without troubling themselves for a +moment as to whether they were Christians or not. They did not protest +even when a body calling itself the Anti-German League (_not having +noticed, apparently, that it had been anticipated by the British +Empire, the French Republic, and the Kingdoms of Italy, Japan, and +Serbia_) actually succeeded in closing a church at Forest Hill in which +God was worshipped in the German language. One would have supposed that +this grotesque outrage on the commonest decencies of religion would +have provoked a remonstrance from even the worldliest bench of bishops. +But no: apparently it seemed to the bishops as natural that the House +of God should be looted when He allowed German to be spoken in it as +that a baker’s shop with a German name over the door should be +pillaged. Their verdict was, in effect, “Serve God right, for creating +the Germans!” The incident would have been impossible in a country +where the Church was as powerful as the Church of England, had it had +at the same time a spark of catholic as distinguished from tribal +religion in it. As it is, the thing occurred; and as far as I have +observed, the only people who gasped were the Freethinkers. Thus we see +that even among men who make a profession of religion the great +majority are as Martian as the majority of their congregations. The +average clergyman is an official who makes his living by christening +babies, marrying adults, conducting a ritual, and making the best he +can (_when he has any conscience about it_) of a certain routine of +school superintendence, district visiting, and organization of +almsgiving, which does not necessarily touch Christianity at any point +except the point of the tongue. The exceptional or religious clergyman +may be an ardent Pauline salvationist, in which case his more +cultivated parishioners dislike him, and say that he ought to have +joined the Methodists. Or he may be an artist expressing religious +emotion without intellectual definition by means of poetry, music, +vestments and architecture, also producing religious ecstacy by +physical expedients, such as fasts and vigils, in which case he is +denounced as a Ritualist. Or he may be either a Unitarian Deist like +Voltaire or Tom Paine, or the more modern sort of Anglican Theosophist +to whom the Holy Ghost is the Elan Vital of Bergson, and the Father and +Son are an expression of the fact that our functions and aspects are +manifold, and that we are all sons and all either potential or actual +parents, in which case he is strongly suspected by the straiter +Salvationists of being little better than an Atheist. All these +varieties, you see, excite remark. They may be very popular with their +congregations; but they are regarded by the average man as the freaks +of the Church. The Church, like the society of which it is an organ, is +balanced and steadied by the great central Philistine mass above whom +theology looms as a highly spoken of and doubtless most important +thing, like Greek Tragedy, or classical music, or the higher +mathematics, but who are very glad when church is over and they can go +home to lunch or dinner, having in fact, for all practical purposes, no +reasoned convictions at all, and being equally ready to persecute a +poor Freethinker for saying that St. James was not infallible, and to +send one of the Peculiar People to prison for being so very peculiar as +to take St. James seriously. + +In short, a Christian martyr was thrown to the lions not because he was +a Christian, but because he was a crank: that is, an unusual sort of +person. And multitudes of people, quite as civilized and amiable as we, +crowded to see the lions eat him just as they now crowd the lion-house +in the Zoo at feeding-time, not because they really cared two-pence +about Diana or Christ, or could have given you any intelligent or +correct account of the things Diana and Christ stood against one +another for, but simply because they wanted to see a curious and +exciting spectacle. You, dear reader, have probably run to see a fire; +and if somebody came in now and told you that a lion was chasing a man +down the street you would rush to the window. And if anyone were to say +that you were as cruel as the people who let the lion loose on the man, +you would be justly indignant. Now that we may no longer see a man +hanged, we assemble outside the jail to see the black flag run up. That +is our duller method of enjoying ourselves in the old Roman spirit. And +if the Government decided to throw persons of unpopular or eccentric +views to the lions in the Albert Hall or the Earl’s Court stadium +tomorrow, can you doubt that all the seats would be crammed, mostly by +people who could not give you the most superficial account of the views +in question. Much less unlikely things have happened. It is true that +if such a revival does take place soon, the martyrs will not be members +of heretical religious sects: they will be Peculiars, +Anti-Vivisectionists, Flat-Earth men, scoffers at the laboratories, or +infidels who refuse to kneel down when a procession of doctors goes by. +But the lions will hurt them just as much, and the spectators will +enjoy themselves just as much, as the Roman lions and spectators used +to do. + +It was currently reported in the Berlin newspapers that when Androcles +was first performed in Berlin, the Crown Prince rose and left the +house, unable to endure the (_I hope_) very clear and fair exposition +of autocratic Imperialism given by the Roman captain to his Christian +prisoners. No English Imperialist was intelligent and earnest enough to +do the same in London. If the report is correct, I confirm the logic of +the Crown Prince, and am glad to find myself so well understood. But I +can assure him that the Empire which served for my model when I wrote +Androcles was, as he is now finding to his cost, much nearer my home +than the German one. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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HTML version by Al Haines</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION ***</div> + +<h1>ANDROCLES AND THE LION</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Bernard Shaw</h2> + +<h4> +1912 +</h4> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pro1">PROLOGUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#act1">ACT I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#act2">ACT II</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="pro1"></a>PROLOGUE</h2> + +<p> +Overture; forest sounds, roaring of lions, Christian hymn faintly. +</p> + +<p> +A jungle path. A lion’s roar, a melancholy suffering roar, comes from the +jungle. It is repeated nearer. The lion limps from the jungle on three legs, +holding up his right forepaw, in which a huge thorn sticks. He sits down and +contemplates it. He licks it. He shakes it. He tries to extract it by scraping +it along the ground, and hurts himself worse. He roars piteously. He licks it +again. Tears drop from his eyes. He limps painfully off the path and lies down +under the trees, exhausted with pain. Heaving a long sigh, like wind in a +trombone, he goes to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Androcles and his wife Megæra come along the path. He is a small, thin, +ridiculous little man who might be any age from thirty to fifty-five. He has +sandy hair, watery compassionate blue eyes, sensitive nostrils, and a very +presentable forehead; but his good points go no further; his arms and legs and +back, though wiry of their kind, look shrivelled and starved. He carries a big +bundle, is very poorly clad, and seems tired and hungry. +</p> + +<p> +His wife is a rather handsome pampered slattern, well fed and in the prime of +life. She has nothing to carry, and has a stout stick to help her along. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +(<i>suddenly throwing down her stick</i>) I won’t go another step. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>pleading wearily</i>) Oh, not again, dear. What’s the good of +stopping every two miles and saying you won’t go another step? We must +get on to the next village before night. There are wild beasts in this wood: +lions, they say. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +I don’t believe a word of it. You are always threatening me with wild +beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body when I can hardly drag one +foot before another. We haven’t seen a single lion yet. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Well, dear, do you want to see one? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +(<i>tearing the bundle from his back</i>) You cruel beast, you don’t care +how tired I am, or what becomes of me (<i>she throws the bundle on the +ground</i>): always thinking of yourself. Self! self! self! always yourself! +(<i>She sits down on the bundle</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>sitting down sadly on the ground with his elbows on his knees and his head +in his hands</i>) We all have to think of ourselves occasionally, dear. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +A man ought to think of his wife sometimes. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +He can’t always help it, dear. You make me think of you a good deal. Not +that I blame you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Blame me! I should think not indeed. Is it my fault that I’m married to +you? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No, dear: that is my fault. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +That’s a nice thing to say to me. Aren’t you happy with me? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I don’t complain, my love. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +You ought to be ashamed of yourself. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I am, my dear. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +You’re not: you glory in it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +In what, darling? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself a laughing-stock. Its +not fair. You get me the name of being a shrew with your meek ways, always +talking as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. And just because I look +a big strong woman, and because I’m good-hearted and a bit hasty, and +because you’re always driving me to do things I’m sorry for +afterwards, people say “Poor man: what a life his wife leads him!” +Oh, if they only knew! And you think I don’t know. But I do, I do, +(<i>screaming</i>) I do. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Yes, my dear: I know you do. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Then why don’t you treat me properly and be a good husband to me? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +What can I do, my dear? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +What can you do! You can return to your duty, and come back to your home and +your friends, and sacrifice to the gods as all respectable people do, instead +of having us hunted out of house and home for being dirty, disreputable, +blaspheming atheists. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I’m not an atheist, dear: I am a Christian. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Well, isn’t that the same thing, only ten times worse? Everybody knows +that the Christians are the very lowest of the low. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Just like us, dear. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Speak for yourself. Don’t you dare to compare me to common people. My +father owned his own public-house; and sorrowful was the day for me when you +first came drinking in our bar. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I confess I was addicted to it, dear. But I gave it up when I became a +Christian. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +You’d much better have remained a drunkard. I can forgive a man being +addicted to drink: its only natural; and I don’t deny I like a drop +myself sometimes. What I can’t stand is your being addicted to +Christianity. And what’s worse again, your being addicted to animals. How +is any woman to keep her house clean when you bring in every stray cat and lost +cur and lame duck in the whole countryside? You took the bread out of my mouth +to feed them: you know you did: don’t attempt to deny it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Only when they were hungry and you were getting too stout, dearie. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Yes, insult me, do. (<i>Rising</i>) Oh! I won’t bear it another moment. +You used to sit and talk to those dumb brute beasts for hours, when you +hadn’t a word for me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +They never answered back, darling. (<i>He rises and again shoulders the +bundle</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Well, if you’re fonder of animals than of your own wife, you can live +with them here in the jungle. I’ve had enough of them and enough of you. +I’m going back. I’m going home. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>barring the way back</i>) No, dearie: don’t take on like that. We +can’t go back. We’ve sold everything: we should starve; and I +should be sent to Rome and thrown to the lions— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Serve you right! I wish the lions joy of you. (<i>Screaming</i>) Are you going +to get out of my way and let me go home? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No, dear— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Then I’ll make my way through the forest; and when I’m eaten by the +wild beasts you’ll know what a wife you’ve lost. (<i>She dashes +into the jungle and nearly falls over the sleeping lion</i>). Oh! Oh! Andy! +Andy! (<i>She totters back and collapses into the arms of Androcles, who, +crushed by her weight, falls on his bundle</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>extracting himself from beneath her and slapping her hands in great +anxiety</i>) What is it, my precious, my pet? What’s the matter? (<i>He +raises her head. Speechless with terror, she points in the direction of the +sleeping lion. He steals cautiously towards the spot indicated by Megæra. She +rises with an effort and totters after him</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +No, Andy: you’ll be killed. Come back. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The lion utters a long snoring sigh. Androcles sees the lion and recoils +fainting into the arms of Megæra, who falls back on the bundle. They roll apart +and lie staring in terror at one another. The lion is heard groaning heavily in +the jungle.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>whispering</i>) Did you see? A lion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +(<i>despairing</i>) The gods have sent him to punish us because you’re a +Christian. Take me away, Andy. Save me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>rising</i>) Meggy: there’s one chance for you. It’ll take him +pretty nigh twenty minutes to eat me (<i>I’m rather stringy and +tough</i>) and you can escape in less time than that. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +Oh, don’t talk about eating. (<i>The lion rises with a great groan and +limps towards them</i>). Oh! (<i>She faints</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>quaking, but keeping between the lion and Megæra</i>) Don’t you come +near my wife, do you hear? (<i>The lion groans. Androcles can hardly stand for +trembling</i>). Meggy: run. Run for your life. If I take my eye off him, its +all up. (<i>The lion holds up his wounded paw and flaps it piteously before +Androcles</i>). Oh, he’s lame, poor old chap! He’s got a thorn in +his paw. A frightfully big thorn. (<i>Full of sympathy</i>) Oh, poor old man! +Did um get an awful thorn into um’s tootsums wootsums? Has it made um too +sick to eat a nice little Christian man for um’s breakfast? Oh, a nice +little Christian man will get um’s thorn out for um; and then um shall +eat the nice Christian man and the nice Christian man’s nice big tender +wifey pifey. (<i>The lion responds by moans of self-pity</i>). Yes, yes, yes, +yes, yes. Now, now (<i>taking the paw in his hand</i>) um is not to bite and +not to scratch, not even if it hurts a very, very little. Now make velvet paws. +That’s right. (<i>He pulls gingerly at the thorn. The lion, with an angry +yell of pain, jerks back his paw so abruptly that Androcles is thrown on his +back</i>). Steadeee! Oh, did the nasty cruel little Christian man hurt the sore +paw? (<i>The lion moans assentingly but apologetically</i>). Well, one more +little pull and it will be all over. Just one little, little, leetle pull; and +then um will live happily ever after. (<i>He gives the thorn another pull. The +lion roars and snaps his jaws with a terrifying clash</i>). Oh, mustn’t +frighten um’s good kind doctor, um’s affectionate nursey. That +didn’t hurt at all: not a bit. Just one more. Just to show how the brave +big lion can bear pain, not like the little crybaby Christian man. Oopsh! +(<i>The thorn comes out. The lion yells with pain, and shakes his paw +wildly</i>). That’s it! (<i>Holding up the thorn</i>). Now it’s +out. Now lick um’s paw to take away the nasty inflammation. See? (<i>He +licks his own hand. The lion nods intelligently and licks his paw +industriously</i>). Clever little liony-piony! Understands um’s dear old +friend Andy Wandy. (<i>The lion licks his face</i>). Yes, kissums Andy Wandy. +(<i>The lion, wagging his tail violently, rises on his hind legs and embraces +Androcles, who makes a wry face and cries</i>) Velvet paws! Velvet paws! +(<i>The lion draws in his claws</i>). That’s right. (<i>He embraces the +lion, who finally takes the end of his tail in one paw, places that tight +around Androcles’ waist, resting it on his hip. Androcles takes the other +paw in his hand, stretches out his arm, and the two waltz rapturously round and +round and finally away through the jungle</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +MEGAERA.<br/> +(<i>who has revived during the waltz</i>) Oh, you coward, you haven’t +danced with me for years; and now you go off dancing with a great brute beast +that you haven’t known for ten minutes and that wants to eat your own +wife. Coward! Coward! Coward! (<i>She rushes off after them into the +jungle</i>). +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="act1"></a> ACT I </h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +Evening. The end of three converging roads to Rome. Three triumphal arches span +them where they debouch on a square at the gate of the city. Looking north +through the arches one can see the campagna threaded by the three long dusty +tracks. On the east and west sides of the square are long stone benches. An old +beggar sits on the east side of the square, his bowl at his feet. Through the +eastern arch a squad of Roman soldiers tramps along escorting a batch of +Christian prisoners of both sexes and all ages, among them one Lavinia, a +goodlooking resolute young woman, apparently of higher social standing than her +fellow-prisoners. A centurion, carrying his vinewood cudgel, trudges alongside +the squad, on its right, in command of it. All are tired and dusty; but the +soldiers are dogged and indifferent, the Christians light-hearted and +determined to treat their hardships as a joke and encourage one another. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>A bugle is heard far behind on the road, where the rest of the cohort is +following.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>stopping</i>) Halt! Orders from the Captain. (<i>They halt and wait</i>). +Now then, you Christians, none of your larks. The captain’s coming. Mind +you behave yourselves. No singing. Look respectful. Look serious, if +you’re capable of it. See that big building over there? That’s the +Coliseum. That’s where you’ll be thrown to the lions or set to +fight the gladiators presently. Think of that; and it’ll help you to +behave properly before the captain. (<i>The Captain arrives</i>). Attention! +Salute! (<i>The soldiers salute</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +A CHRISTIAN.<br/> +(<i>cheerfully</i>) God bless you, Captain. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>scandalised</i>) Silence! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Captain, a patrician, handsome, about thirty-five, very cold and +distinguished, very superior and authoritative, steps up on a stone seat at the +west side of the square, behind the centurion, so as to dominate the others +more effectually.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Centurion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>standing at attention and saluting</i>) Sir? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>speaking stiffly and officially</i>) You will remind your men, Centurion, +that we are now entering Rome. You will instruct them that once inside the +gates of Rome they are in the presence of the Emperor. You will make them +understand that the lax discipline of the march cannot be permitted here. You +will instruct them to shave every day, not every week. You will impress on them +particularly that there must be an end to the profanity and blasphemy of +singing Christian hymns on the march. I have to reprimand you, Centurion, for +not only allowing this, but actually doing it yourself. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CENTURION.<br/> +The men march better, Captain. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +No doubt. For that reason an exception is made in the case of the march called +Onward Christian Soldiers. This may be sung, except when marching through the +forum or within hearing of the Emperor’s palace; but the words must be +altered to “Throw them to the Lions.” +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Christians burst into shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, to the great +scandal of the Centurion.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Silence! Silen-n-n-n-nce! Where’s your behavior? Is that the way to +listen to an officer? (<i>To the Captain</i>) That’s what we have to put +up with from these Christians every day, sir. They’re always laughing and +joking something scandalous. They’ve no religion: that’s how it is. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +But I think the Captain meant us to laugh, Centurion. It was so funny. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +You’ll find out how funny it is when you’re thrown to the lions +to-morrow. (<i>To the Captain, who looks displeased</i>) Beg pardon, Sir. +(<i>To the Christians</i>) Silennnnce! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +You are to instruct your men that all intimacy with Christian prisoners must +now cease. The men have fallen into habits of dependence upon the prisoners, +especially the female prisoners, for cooking, repairs to uniforms, writing +letters, and advice in their private affairs. In a Roman soldier such +dependence is inadmissible. Let me see no more of it whilst we are in the city. +Further, your orders are that in addressing Christian prisoners, the manners +and tone of your men must express abhorrence and contempt. Any shortcoming in +this respect will be regarded as a breach of discipline. (<i>He turns to the +prisoners</i>) Prisoners. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>fiercely</i>) Prisonerrrrrs! Tention! Silence! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +I call your attention, prisoners, to the fact that you may be called on to +appear in the Imperial Circus at any time from tomorrow onwards according to +the requirements of the managers. I may inform you that as there is a shortage +of Christians just now, you may expect to be called on very soon. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +What will they do to us, Captain? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Silence! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +The women will be conducted into the arena with the wild beasts of the Imperial +Menagerie, and will suffer the consequences. The men, if of an age to bear +arms, will be given weapons to defend themselves, if they choose, against the +Imperial Gladiators. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: is there no hope that this cruel persecution— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>shocked</i>) Silence! Hold your tongue, there. Persecution, indeed! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>unmoved and somewhat sardonic</i>) Persecution is not a term applicable to +the acts of the Emperor. The Emperor is the Defender of the Faith. In throwing +you to the lions he will be upholding the interests of religion in Rome. If you +were to throw him to the lions, that would no doubt be persecution. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Christians again laugh heartily.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>horrified</i>) Silence, I tell you! Keep silence there. Did anyone ever +hear the like of this? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: there will be nobody to appreciate your jokes when we are gone. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>unshaken in his official delivery</i>) I call the attention of the female +prisoner Lavinia to the fact that as the Emperor is a divine personage, her +imputation of cruelty is not only treason, but sacrilege. I point out to her +further that there is no foundation for the charge, as the Emperor does not +desire that any prisoner should suffer; nor can any Christian be harmed save +through his or her own obstinacy. All that is necessary is to sacrifice to the +gods: a simple and convenient ceremony effected by dropping a pinch of incense +on the altar, after which the prisoner is at once set free. Under such +circumstances you have only your own perverse folly to blame if you suffer. I +suggest to you that if you cannot burn a morsel of incense as a matter of +conviction, you might at least do so as a matter of good taste, to avoid +shocking the religious convictions of your fellow citizens. I am aware that +these considerations do not weigh with Christians; but it is my duty to call +your attention to them in order that you may have no ground for complaining of +your treatment, or of accusing the Emperor of cruelty when he is showing you +the most signal clemency. Looked at from this point of view, every Christian +who has perished in the arena has really committed suicide. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: your jokes are too grim. Do not think it is easy for us to die. Our +faith makes life far stronger and more wonderful in us than when we walked in +darkness and had nothing to live for. Death is harder for us than for you: the +martyr’s agony is as bitter as his triumph is glorious. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>rather troubled, addressing her personally and gravely</i>) A martyr, +Lavinia, is a fool. Your death will prove nothing. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Then why kill me? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +I mean that truth, if there be any truth, needs no martyrs. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +No; but my faith, like your sword, needs testing. Can you test your sword +except by staking your life on it? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>suddenly resuming his official tone</i>) I call the attention of the female +prisoner to the fact that Christians are not allowed to draw the +Emperor’s officers into arguments and put questions to them for which the +military regulations provide no answer. (<i>The Christians titter</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: how CAN you? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +I call the female prisoner’s attention specially to the fact that four +comfortable homes have been offered her by officers of this regiment, of which +she can have her choice the moment she chooses to sacrifice as all well-bred +Roman ladies do. I have no more to say to the prisoners. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Dismiss! But stay where you are. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Centurion: you will remain here with your men in charge of the prisoners until +the arrival of three Christian prisoners in the custody of a cohort of the +tenth legion. Among these prisoners you will particularly identify an armorer +named Ferrovius, of dangerous character and great personal strength, and a +Greek tailor reputed to be a sorcerer, by name Androcles. You will add the +three to your charge here and march them all to the Coliseum, where you will +deliver them into the custody of the master of the gladiators and take his +receipt, countersigned by the keeper of the beasts and the acting manager. You +understand your instructions? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Yes, Sir. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Dismiss. (<i>He throws off his air of parade, and descends down from the perch. +The Centurion seats on it and prepares for a nap, whilst his men stand at ease. +The Christians sit down on the west side of the square, glad to rest. Lavinia +alone remains standing to speak to the Captain</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: is this man who is to join us the famous Ferrovius, who has made such +wonderful conversions in the northern cities? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Yes. We are warned that he has the strength of an elephant and the temper of a +mad bull. Also that he is stark mad. Not a model Christian, it would seem. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +You need not fear him if he is a Christian, Captain. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>coldly</i>) I shall not fear him in any case, Lavinia. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>her eyes dancing</i>) How brave of you, Captain! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +You are right: it was silly thing to say. (<i>In a lower tone, humane and +urgent</i>) Lavinia: do Christians know how to love? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>composedly</i>) Yes, Captain: they love even their enemies. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Is that easy? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Very easy, Captain, when their enemies are as handsome as you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Lavinia: you are laughing at me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +At you, Captain! Impossible. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Then you are flirting with me, which is worse. Don’t be foolish. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +But such a very handsome captain. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Incorrigible! (<i>Urgently</i>) Listen to me. The men in that audience tomorrow +will be the vilest of voluptuaries: men in whom the only passion excited by a +beautiful woman is a lust to see her tortured and torn shrieking limb from +limb. It is a crime to dignify that passion. It is offering yourself for +violation by the whole rabble of the streets and the riff-raff of the court at +the same time. Why will you not choose rather a kindly love and an honorable +alliance? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +They cannot violate my soul. I alone can do that by sacrificing to false gods. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Sacrifice then to the true God. What does his name matter? We call him Jupiter. +The Greeks call him Zeus. Call him what you will as you drop the incense on the +altar flame: He will understand. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +No. I couldn’t. That is the strange thing, Captain, that a little pinch +of incense should make all that difference. Religion is such a great thing that +when I meet really religious people we are friends at once, no matter what name +we give to the divine will that made us and moves us. Oh, do you think that I, +a woman, would quarrel with you for sacrificing to a woman god like Diana, if +Diana meant to you what Christ means to me? No: we should kneel side by side +before her altar like two children. But when men who believe neither in my god +nor in their own—men who do not know the meaning of the word +religion—when these men drag me to the foot of an iron statue that has +become the symbol of the terror and darkness through which they walk, of their +cruelty and greed, of their hatred of God and their oppression of +man—when they ask me to pledge my soul before the people that this +hideous idol is God, and that all this wickedness and falsehood is divine +truth, I cannot do it, not if they could put a thousand cruel deaths on me. I +tell you, it is physically impossible. Listen, Captain: did you ever try to +catch a mouse in your hand? Once there was a dear little mouse that used to +come out and play on my table as I was reading. I wanted to take him in my hand +and caress him; and sometimes he got among my books so that he could not escape +me when I stretched out my hand. And I did stretch out my hand; but it always +came back in spite of me. I was not afraid of him in my heart; but my hand +refused: it is not in the nature of my hand to touch a mouse. Well, Captain, if +I took a pinch of incense in my hand and stretched it out over the altar fire, +my hand would come back. My body would be true to my faith even if you could +corrupt my mind. And all the time I should believe more in Diana than my +persecutors have ever believed in anything. Can you understand that? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>simply</i>) Yes: I understand that. But my hand would not come back. The +hand that holds the sword has been trained not to come back from anything but +victory. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Not even from death? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Least of all from death. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Then I must not come back either. A woman has to be braver than a soldier. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Prouder, you mean. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>startled</i>) Prouder! You call our courage pride! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +There is no such thing as courage: there is only pride. You Christians are the +proudest devils on earth. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>hurt</i>) Pray God then my pride may never become a false pride. (<i>She +turns away as if she did not wish to continue the conversation, but softens and +says to him with a smile</i>) Thank you for trying to save me from death. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +I knew it was no use; but one tries in spite of one’s knowledge. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Something stirs, even in the iron breast of a Roman soldier! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +It will soon be iron again. I have seen many women die, and forgotten them in a +week. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Remember me for a fortnight, handsome Captain. I shall be watching you, +perhaps. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +From the skies? Do not deceive yourself, Lavinia. There is no future for you +beyond the grave. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +What does that matter? Do you think I am only running away from the terrors of +life into the comfort of heaven? If there were no future, or if the future were +one of torment, I should have to go just the same. The hand of God is upon me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Yes: when all is said, we are both patricians, Lavinia, and must die for our +beliefs. Farewell. (<i>He offers her his hand. She takes it and presses it. He +walks away, trim and calm. She looks after him for a moment, and cries a little +as he disappears through the eastern arch. A trumpet-call is heard from the +road through the western arch</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>waking up and rising</i>) Cohort of the tenth with prisoners. Two file out +with me to receive them. (<i>He goes out through the western arch, followed by +four soldiers in two files</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Lentulus and Metellus come into the square from the west side with a little +retinue of servants. Both are young courtiers, dressed in the extremity of +fashion. Lentulus is slender, fair-haired, epicene. Metellus is manly, +compactly built, olive skinned, not a talker.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Christians, by Jove! Let’s chaff them. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +METELLUS.<br/> +Awful brutes. If you knew as much about them as I do you wouldn’t want to +chaff them. Leave them to the lions. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>indicating Lavinia, who is still looking towards the arches after the +captain</i>). That woman’s got a figure. (<i>He walks past her, staring +at her invitingly, but she is preoccupied and is not conscious of him</i>). Do +you turn the other cheek when they kiss you? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>starting</i>) What? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you, fascinating Christian? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Don’t be foolish. (<i>To Metellus, who has remained on her right, so that +she is between them</i>) Please don’t let your friend behave like a cad +before the soldiers. How are they to respect and obey patricians if they see +them behaving like street boys? (<i>Sharply to Lentulus</i>) Pull yourself +together, man. Hold your head up. Keep the corners of your mouth firm; and +treat me respectfully. What do you take me for? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>irresolutely</i>) Look here, you know: I—you—I— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Stuff! Go about your business. (<i>She turns decisively away and sits down with +her comrades, leaving him disconcerted</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +METELLUS.<br/> +You didn’t get much out of that. I told you they were brutes. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Plucky little filly! I suppose she thinks I care. (<i>With an air of +indifference he strolls with Metellus to the east side of the square, where +they stand watching the return of the Centurion through the western arch with +his men, escorting three prisoners: Ferrovius, Androcles, and Spintho. +Ferrovius is a powerful, choleric man in the prime of life, with large +nostrils, staring eyes, and a thick neck: a man whose sensibilities are keen +and violent to the verge of madness. Spintho is a debauchee, the wreck of a +good-looking man gone hopelessly to the bad. Androcles is overwhelmed with +grief, and is restraining his tears with great difficulty</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>to Lavinia</i>) Here are some pals for you. This little bit is Ferrovius +that you talk so much about. (<i>Ferrovius turns on him threateningly. The +Centurion holds up his left forefinger in admonition</i>). Now remember that +you’re a Christian, and that you’ve got to return good for evil. +(<i>Ferrovius controls himself convulsively; moves away from temptation to the +east side near Lentulus; clasps his hands in silent prayer; and throws himself +on his knees</i>). That’s the way to manage them, eh! This fine fellow +(<i>indicating Androcles, who comes to his left, and makes Lavinia a +heartbroken salutation</i>) is a sorcerer. A Greek tailor, he is. A real +sorcerer, too: no mistake about it. The tenth marches with a leopard at the +head of the column. He made a pet of the leopard; and now he’s crying at +being parted from it. (<i>Androcles sniffs lamentably</i>). Ain’t you, +old chap? Well, cheer up, we march with a Billy goat (<i>Androcles brightens +up</i>) that’s killed two leopards and ate a turkey-cock. You can have +him for a pet if you like. (<i>Androcles, quite consoled, goes past the +Centurion to Lavinia, and sits down contentedly on the ground on her left</i>). +This dirty dog (<i>collaring Spintho</i>) is a real Christian. He mobs the +temples, he does (<i>at each accusation he gives the neck of Spintho’s +tunic a twist</i>); he goes smashing things mad drunk, he does; he steals the +gold vessels, he does; he assaults the priestesses, he does pah! (<i>He flings +Spintho into the middle of the group of prisoners</i>). You’re the sort +that makes duty a pleasure, you are. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>gasping</i>) That’s it: strangle me. Kick me. Beat me. Revile me. Our +Lord was beaten and reviled. That’s my way to heaven. Every martyr goes +to heaven, no matter what he’s done. That is so, isn’t it, brother? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Well, if you’re going to heaven, <i>I</i> don’t want to go there. I +wouldn’t be seen with you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Haw! Good! (<i>Indicating the kneeling Ferrovius</i>). Is this one of the +turn-the-other-cheek gentlemen, Centurion? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Yes, sir. Lucky for you too, sir, if you want to take any liberties with him. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>to Ferrovius</i>) You turn the other cheek when you’re struck, +I’m told. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>slowly turning his great eyes on him</i>) Yes, by the grace of God, I do, +now. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Not that you’re a coward, of course; but out of pure piety. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I fear God more than man; at least I try to. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Let’s see. (<i>He strikes him on the cheek. Androcles makes a wild +movement to rise and interfere; but Lavinia holds him down, watching Ferrovius +intently. Ferrovius, without flinching, turns the other cheek. Lentulus, rather +out of countenance, titters foolishly, and strikes him again feebly</i>). You +know, I should feel ashamed if I let myself be struck like that, and took it +lying down. But then I’m not a Christian: I’m a man. (<i>Ferrovius +rises impressively and towers over him. Lentulus becomes white with terror; and +a shade of green flickers in his cheek for a moment</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>with the calm of a steam hammer</i>) I have not always been faithful. The +first man who struck me as you have just struck me was a stronger man than you: +he hit me harder than I expected. I was tempted and fell; and it was then that +I first tasted bitter shame. I never had a happy moment after that until I had +knelt and asked his forgiveness by his bedside in the hospital. (<i>Putting his +hands on Lentulus’s shoulders with paternal weight</i>). But now I have +learnt to resist with a strength that is not my own. I am not ashamed now, nor +angry. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>uneasily</i>) Er—good evening. (<i>He tries to move away</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>gripping his shoulders</i>) Oh, do not harden your heart, young man. Come: +try for yourself whether our way is not better than yours. I will now strike +you on one cheek; and you will turn the other and learn how much better you +will feel than if you gave way to the promptings of anger. (<i>He holds him +with one hand and clenches the other fist</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Centurion: I call on you to protect me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +You asked for it, sir. It’s no business of ours. You’ve had two +whacks at him. Better pay him a trifle and square it that way. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Yes, of course. (<i>To Ferrovius</i>) It was only a bit of fun, I assure you: I +meant no harm. Here. (<i>He proffers a gold coin</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>taking it and throwing it to the old beggar, who snatches it up eagerly, +and hobbles off to spend it</i>) Give all thou hast to the poor. Come, friend: +courage! I may hurt your body for a moment; but your soul will rejoice in the +victory of the spirit over the flesh. (<i>He prepares to strike</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Easy, Ferrovius, easy: you broke the last man’s jaw. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Lentulus, with a moan of terror, attempts to fly; but Ferrovius holds him +ruthlessly.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Yes; but I saved his soul. What matters a broken jaw? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Don’t touch me, do you hear? The law— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +The law will throw me to the lions tomorrow: what worse could it do were I to +slay you? Pray for strength; and it shall be given to you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +Let me go. Your religion forbids you to strike me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +On the contrary, it commands me to strike you. How can you turn the other +cheek, if you are not first struck on the one cheek? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>almost in tears</i>) But I’m convinced already that what you said is +quite right. I apologize for striking you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>greatly pleased</i>) My son: have I softened your heart? Has the good seed +fallen in a fruitful place? Are your feet turning towards a better path? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>abjectly</i>) Yes, yes. There’s a great deal in what you say. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>radiant</i>) Join us. Come to the lions. Come to suffering and death. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LENTULUS.<br/> +(<i>falling on his knees and bursting into tears</i>) Oh, help me. Mother! +mother! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +These tears will water your soul and make it bring forth good fruit, my son. +God has greatly blessed my efforts at conversion. Shall I tell you a +miracle—yes, a miracle—wrought by me in Cappadocia? A young +man—just such a one as you, with golden hair like yours—scoffed at +and struck me as you scoffed at and struck me. I sat up all night with that +youth wrestling for his soul; and in the morning not only was he a Christian, +but his hair was as white as snow. (<i>Lentulus falls in a dead faint</i>). +There, there: take him away. The spirit has overwrought him, poor lad. Carry +him gently to his house; and leave the rest to heaven. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Take him home. (<i>The servants, intimidated, hastily carry him out. Metellus +is about to follow when Ferrovius lays his hand on his shoulder</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +You are his friend, young man. You will see that he is taken safely home. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +METELLUS.<br/> +(<i>with awestruck civility</i>) Certainly, sir. I shall do whatever you think +best. Most happy to have made your acquaintance, I’m sure. You may depend +on me. Good evening, sir. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>with unction</i>) The blessing of heaven upon you and him. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Metellus follows Lentulus. The Centurion returns to his seat to resume his +interrupted nap. The deepest awe has settled on the spectators. Ferrovius, with +a long sigh of happiness, goes to Lavinia, and offers her his hand.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>taking it</i>) So that is how you convert people, Ferrovius. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Yes: there has been a blessing on my work in spite of my unworthiness and my +backslidings—all through my wicked, devilish temper. This man— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>hastily</i>) Don’t slap me on the back, brother. She knows you mean +me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +How I wish I were weak like our brother here! for then I should perhaps be meek +and gentle like him. And yet there seems to be a special providence that makes +my trials less than his. I hear tales of the crowd scoffing and casting stones +and reviling the brethren; but when I come, all this stops: my influence calms +the passions of the mob: they listen to me in silence; and infidels are often +converted by a straight heart-to-heart talk with me. Every day I feel happier, +more confident. Every day lightens the load of the great terror. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +The great terror? What is that? +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Ferrovius shakes his head and does not answer. He sits down beside her on +her left, and buries his face in his hands in gloomy meditation.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Well, you see, sister, he’s never quite sure of himself. Suppose at the +last moment in the arena, with the gladiators there to fight him, one of them +was to say anything to annoy him, he might forget himself and lay that +gladiator out. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +That would be splendid. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>springing up in horror</i>) What! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Oh, sister! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Splendid to betray my master, like Peter! Splendid to act like any common +blackguard in the day of my proving! Woman: you are no Christian. (<i>He moves +away from her to the middle of the square, as if her neighborhood contaminated +him</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>laughing</i>) You know, Ferrovius, I am not always a Christian. I +don’t think anybody is. There are moments when I forget all about it, and +something comes out quite naturally, as it did then. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +What does it matter? If you die in the arena, you’ll be a martyr; and all +martyrs go to heaven, no matter what they have done. That’s so, +isn’t it, Ferrovius? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Yes: that is so, if we are faithful to the end. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I’m not so sure. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +Don’t say that. That’s blasphemy. Don’t say that, I tell you. +We shall be saved, no matter <small>WHAT</small> we do. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Perhaps you men will all go into heaven bravely and in triumph, with your heads +erect and golden trumpets sounding for you. But I am sure I shall only be +allowed to squeeze myself in through a little crack in the gate after a great +deal of begging. I am not good always: I have moments only. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +You’re talking nonsense, woman. I tell you, martyrdom pays all scores. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Well, let us hope so, brother, for your sake. You’ve had a gay time, +haven’t you? with your raids on the temples. I can’t help thinking +that heaven will be very dull for a man of your temperament. (<i>Spintho +snarls</i>). Don’t be angry: I say it only to console you in case you +should die in your bed tonight in the natural way. There’s a lot of +plague about. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>rising and running about in abject terror</i>) I never thought of that. O +Lord, spare me to be martyred. Oh, what a thought to put into the mind of a +brother! Oh, let me be martyred today, now. I shall die in the night and go to +hell. You’re a sorcerer: you’ve put death into my mind. Oh, curse +you, curse you! (<i>He tries to seize Androcles by the throat</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>holding him in a grip of iron</i>) What’s this, brother? Anger! +Violence! Raising your hand to a brother Christian! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +It’s easy for you. You’re strong. Your nerves are all right. But +I’m full of disease. (<i>Ferrovius takes his hand from him with +instinctive disgust</i>). I’ve drunk all my nerves away. I shall have the +horrors all night. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>sympathetic</i>) Oh, don’t take on so, brother. We’re all +sinners. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>snivelling, trying to feel consoled</i>). Yes: I daresay if the truth were +known, you’re all as bad as I am. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>contemptuously</i>) Does that comfort you? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>sternly</i>) Pray, man, pray. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +What’s the good of praying? If we’re martyred we shall go to +heaven, shan’t we, whether we pray or not? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +What’s that? Not pray! (<i>Seizing him again</i>) Pray this instant, you +dog, you rotten hound, you slimy snake, you beastly goat, or— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +Yes: beat me: kick me. I forgive you: mind that. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>spurning him with loathing</i>) Yah! (<i>Spintho reels away and falls in +front of Ferrovius</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>reaching out and catching the skirt of Ferrovius’s tunic</i>) Dear +brother: if you wouldn’t mind—just for my sake— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Well? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Don’t call him by the names of the animals. We’ve no right to. +I’ve had such friends in dogs. A pet snake is the best of company. I was +nursed on goat’s milk. Is it fair to them to call the like of him a dog +or a snake or a goat? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I only meant that they have no souls. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>anxiously protesting</i>) Oh, believe me, they have. Just the same as you +and me. I really don’t think I could consent to go to heaven if I thought +there were to be no animals there. Think of what they suffer here. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +That’s true. Yes: that is just. They will have their share in heaven. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>who has picked himself up and is sneaking past Ferrovius on his left, +sneers derisively</i>)!! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>turning on him fiercely</i>) What’s that you say? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>cornering</i>). Nothing. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>clenching his fist</i>) Do animals go to heaven or not? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +I never said they didn’t. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>implacable</i>) Do they or do they not? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +They do: they do. (<i>Scrambling out of Ferrovius’s reach</i>). Oh, curse +you for frightening me! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>A bugle call is heard.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>waking up</i>) Tention! Form as before. Now then, prisoners, up with you +and trot along spry. (<i>The soldiers fall in. The Christians rise</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +A man with an ox goad comes running through the central arch. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE OX DRIVER.<br/> +Here, you soldiers! clear out of the way for the Emperor. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CENTURION.<br/> +Emperor! Where’s the Emperor? You ain’t the Emperor, are you? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE OX DRIVER.<br/> +It’s the menagerie service. My team of oxen is drawing the new lion to +the Coliseum. You clear the road. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +What! Go in after you in your dust, with half the town at the heels of you and +your lion! Not likely. We go first. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE OX DRIVER.<br/> +The menagerie service is the Emperor’s personal retinue. You clear out, I +tell you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +You tell me, do you? Well, I’ll tell you something. If the lion is +menagerie service, the lion’s dinner is menagerie service too. This +(<i>pointing to the Christians</i>) is the lion’s dinner. So back with +you to your bullocks double quick; and learn your place. March. (<i>The +soldiers start</i>). Now then, you Christians, step out there. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>marching</i>) Come along, the rest of the dinner. I shall be the olives and +anchovies. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANOTHER CHRISTIAN.<br/> +(<i>laughing</i>) I shall be the soup. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANOTHER. I shall be the fish. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANOTHER. Ferrovius shall be the roast boar. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>heavily</i>) I see the joke. Yes, yes: I shall be the roast boar. Ha! ha! +(<i>He laughs conscientiously and marches out with them</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I shall be the mince pie. (<i>Each announcement is received with a louder laugh +by all the rest as the joke catches on</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +(<i>scandalised</i>) Silence! Have some sense of your situation. Is this the +way for martyrs to behave? (<i>To Spintho, who is quaking and loitering</i>) I +know what you’ll be at that dinner. You’ll be the emetic. (<i>He +shoves him rudely along</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +It’s too dreadful: I’m not fit to die. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CENTURION.<br/> +Fitter than you are to live, you swine. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>They pass from the square westward. The oxen, drawing a waggon with a great +wooden cage and the lion in it, arrive through the central arch.</i> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="act2"></a> ACT II </h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +Behind the Emperor’s box at the Coliseum, where the performers assemble +before entering the arena. In the middle a wide passage leading to the arena +descends from the floor level under the imperial box. On both sides of this +passage steps ascend to a landing at the back entrance to the box. The landing +forms a bridge across the passage. At the entrance to the passage are two +bronze mirrors, one on each side. +</p> + +<p> +On the west side of this passage, on the right hand of any one coming from the +box and standing on the bridge, the martyrs are sitting on the steps. Lavinia +is seated half-way up, thoughtful, trying to look death in the face. On her +left Androcles consoles himself by nursing a cat. Ferrovius stands behind them, +his eyes blazing, his figure stiff with intense resolution. At the foot of the +steps crouches Spintho, with his head clutched in his hands, full of horror at +the approach of martyrdom. +</p> + +<p> +On the east side of the passage the gladiators are standing and sitting at +ease, waiting, like the Christians, for their turn in the arena. One +(<i>Retiarius</i>) is a nearly naked man with a net and a trident. Another +(<i>Secutor</i>) is in armor with a sword. He carries a helmet with a barred +visor. The editor of the gladiators sits on a chair a little apart from them. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Call Boy enters from the passage.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY.<br/> +Number six. Retiarius versus Secutor. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The gladiator with the net picks it up. The gladiator with the helmet puts +it on; and the two go into the arena, the net thrower taking out a little brush +and arranging his hair as he goes, the other tightening his straps and shaking +his shoulders loose. Both look at themselves in the mirrors before they enter +the passage.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Will they really kill one another? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +Yes, if the people turn down their thumbs. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +You know nothing about it. The people indeed! Do you suppose we would kill a +man worth perhaps fifty talents to please the riffraff? I should like to catch +any of my men at it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +I thought— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>contemptuously</i>) You thought! Who cares what you think? You’ll be +killed all right enough. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>groans and again hides his face</i>)!!! Then is nobody ever killed except +us poor— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Christians? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +If the vestal virgins turn down their thumbs, that’s another matter. +They’re ladies of rank. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Does the Emperor ever interfere? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Oh, yes: he turns his thumbs up fast enough if the vestal virgins want to have +one of his pet fighting men killed. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +But don’t they ever just only pretend to kill one another? Why +shouldn’t you pretend to die, and get dragged out as if you were dead; +and then get up and go home, like an actor? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +See here: you want to know too much. There will be no pretending about the new +lion: let that be enough for you. He’s hungry. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>groaning with horror</i>) Oh, Lord! Can’t you stop talking about it? +Isn’t it bad enough for us without that? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I’m glad he’s hungry. Not that I want him to suffer, poor chap! but +then he’ll enjoy eating me so much more. There’s a cheerful side to +everything. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>rising and striding over to Androcles</i>) Here: don’t you be +obstinate. Come with me and drop the pinch of incense on the altar. +That’s all you need do to be let off. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No: thank you very much indeed; but I really mustn’t. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +What! Not to save your life? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I’d rather not. I couldn’t sacrifice to Diana: she’s a +huntress, you know, and kills things. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +That don’t matter. You can choose your own altar. Sacrifice to Jupiter: +he likes animals: he turns himself into an animal when he goes off duty. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No: it’s very kind of you; but I feel I can’t save myself that way. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +But I don’t ask you to do it to save yourself: I ask you to do it to +oblige me personally. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>scrambling up in the greatest agitation</i>) Oh, please don’t say +that. That is dreadful. You mean so kindly by me that it seems quite horrible +to disoblige you. If you could arrange for me to sacrifice when there’s +nobody looking, I shouldn’t mind. But I must go into the arena with the +rest. My honor, you know. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Honor! The honor of a tailor? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>apologetically</i>) Well, perhaps honor is too strong an expression. Still, +you know, I couldn’t allow the tailors to get a bad name through me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +How much will you remember of all that when you smell the beast’s breath +and see his jaws opening to tear out your throat? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +(<i>rising with a yell of terror</i>) I can’t bear it. Where’s the +altar? I’ll sacrifice. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Dog of an apostate. Iscariot! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SPINTHO.<br/> +I’ll repent afterwards. I fully mean to die in the arena I’ll die a +martyr and go to heaven; but not this time, not now, not until my nerves are +better. Besides, I’m too young: I want to have just one more good time. +(<i>The gladiators laugh at him</i>). Oh, will no one tell me where the altar +is? (<i>He dashes into the passage and vanishes</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>to the Editor, pointing after Spintho</i>) Brother: I can’t do that, +not even to oblige you. Don’t ask me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Well, if you’re determined to die, I can’t help you. But I +wouldn’t be put off by a swine like that. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Peace, peace: tempt him not. Get thee behind him, Satan. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>flushing with rage</i>) For two pins I’d take a turn in the arena +myself to-day, and pay you out for daring to talk to me like that. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Ferrovius springs forward.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>rising quickly and interposing</i>) Brother, brother: you forget. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>curbing himself by a mighty effort</i>) Oh, my temper, my wicked temper! +(<i>To the Editor, as Lavinia sits down again, reassured</i>). Forgive me, +brother. My heart was full of wrath: I should have been thinking of your dear +precious soul. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Yah! (<i>He turns his back on Ferrovius contemptuously, and goes back to his +seat</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>continuing</i>) And I forgot it all: I thought of nothing but offering to +fight you with one hand tied behind me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>turning pugnaciously</i>) What! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>on the border line between zeal and ferocity</i>) Oh, don’t give way +to pride and wrath, brother. I could do it so easily. I could— +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>They are separated by the Menagerie Keeper, who rushes in from the passage, +furious.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Here’s a nice business! Who let that Christian out of here down to the +dens when we were changing the lion into the cage next the arena? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Nobody let him. He let himself. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Well, the lion’s ate him. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Consternation. The Christians rise, greatly agitated. The gladiators sit +callously, but are highly amused. All speak or cry out or laugh at once. +Tumult.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished. Praise be to +God’s justice! ANDROCLES. The poor beast was starving. It couldn’t +help itself. THE CHRISTIANS. What! Ate him! How frightful! How terrible! +Without a moment to repent! God be merciful to him, a sinner! Oh, I can’t +bear to think of it! In the midst of his sin! Horrible, horrible! THE EDITOR. +Serve the rotter right! THE GLADIATORS. Just walked into it, he did. He’s +martyred all right enough. Good old lion! Old Jock doesn’t like that: +look at his face. Devil a better! The Emperor will laugh when he hears of it. I +can’t help smiling. Ha ha ha!!!!! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Now his appetite’s taken off, he won’t as much as look at another +Christian for a week. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Couldn’t you have saved him brother? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Saved him! Saved him from a lion that I’d just got mad with hunger! a +wild one that came out of the forest not four weeks ago! He bolted him before +you could say Balbus. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>sitting down again</i>) Poor Spintho! And it won’t even count as +martyrdom! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Serve him right! What call had he to walk down the throat of one of my lions +before he was asked? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Perhaps the lion won’t eat me now. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Yes: that’s just like a Christian: think only of yourself! What am I to +do? What am I to say to the Emperor when he sees one of my lions coming into +the arena half asleep? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Say nothing. Give your old lion some bitters and a morsel of fried fish to wake +up his appetite. (<i>Laughter</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE KEEPER.<br/> +Yes: it’s easy for you to talk; but— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>scrambling to his feet</i>) Sh! Attention there! The Emperor. (<i>The +Keeper bolts precipitately into the passage. The gladiators rise smartly and +form into line</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +The Emperor enters on the Christians’ side, conversing with Metellus, and +followed by his suite. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE GLADIATORS.<br/> +Hail, Caesar! those about to die salute thee. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +Good morrow, friends. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Metellus shakes hands with the Editor, who accepts his condescension with +bluff respect.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Blessing, Caesar, and forgiveness! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +(<i>turning in some surprise at the salutation</i>) There is no forgiveness for +Christianity. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I did not mean that, Caesar. I mean that we forgive you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +METELLUS.<br/> +An inconceivable liberty! Do you not know, woman, that the Emperor can do no +wrong and therefore cannot be forgiven? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I expect the Emperor knows better. Anyhow, we forgive him. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CHRISTIANS. Amen! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +Metellus: you see now the disadvantage of too much severity. These people have +no hope; therefore they have nothing to restrain them from saying what they +like to me. They are almost as impertinent as the gladiators. Which is the +Greek sorcerer? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>humbly touching his forelock</i>) Me, your Worship. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +My Worship! Good! A new title. Well, what miracles can you perform? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I can cure warts by rubbing them with my tailor’s chalk; and I can live +with my wife without beating her. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +Is that all? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +You don’t know her, Caesar, or you wouldn’t say that. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +Ah, well, my friend, we shall no doubt contrive a happy release for you. Which +is Ferrovius? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I am he. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +They tell me you can fight. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +It is easy to fight. I can die, Caesar. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +That is still easier, is it not? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Not to me, Caesar. Death comes hard to my flesh; and fighting comes very easily +to my spirit (<i>beating his breast and lamenting</i>) O sinner that I am! +(<i>He throws himself down on the steps, deeply discouraged</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +Metellus: I should like to have this man in the Pretorian Guard. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +METELLUS.<br/> +I should not, Caesar. He looks a spoilsport. There are men in whose presence it +is impossible to have any fun: men who are a sort of walking conscience. He +would make us all uncomfortable. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +For that reason, perhaps, it might be well to have him. An Emperor can hardly +have too many consciences. (<i>To Ferrovius</i>) Listen, Ferrovius. +(<i>Ferrovius shakes his head and will not look up</i>). You and your friends +shall not be outnumbered to-day in the arena. You shall have arms; and there +will be no more than one gladiator to each Christian. If you come out of the +arena alive, I will consider favorably any request of yours, and give you a +place in the Pretorian Guard. Even if the request be that no questions be asked +about your faith I shall perhaps not refuse it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I will not fight. I will die. Better stand with the archangels than with the +Pretorian Guard. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +I cannot believe that the archangels—whoever they may be—would not +prefer to be recruited from the Pretorian Guard. However, as you please. Come: +let us see the show. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>As the Court ascends the steps, Secutor and the Retiarius return from the +arena through the passage; Secutor covered with dust and very angry: Retiarius +grinning.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SECUTOR.<br/> +Ha, the Emperor. Now we shall see. Caesar: I ask you whether it is fair for the +Retiarius, instead of making a fair throw of his net at me, to swish it along +the ground and throw the dust in my eyes, and then catch me when I’m +blinded. If the vestals had not turned up their thumbs I should have been a +dead man. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +(<i>halting on the stair</i>) There is nothing in the rules against it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SECUTOR.<br/> +(<i>indignantly</i>) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +It is a dusty one, my friend. (<i>Obsequious laughter</i>). Be on your guard +next time. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +SECUTOR.<br/> +Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I’ll throw my sword at his heels and +strangle him with his own net before he can hop off. (<i>To Retiarius</i>) You +see if I don’t. (<i>He goes out past the gladiators, sulky and +furious</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +(<i>to the chuckling Retiarius</i>). These tricks are not wise, my friend. The +audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty and splendor. If you smudge +his face and spoil his armor they will show their displeasure by not letting +you kill him. And when your turn comes, they will remember it against you and +turn their thumbs down. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE RETIARIUS.<br/> +Perhaps that is why I did it, Caesar. He bet me ten sesterces that he would +vanquish me. If I had had to kill him I should not have had the money. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +(<i>indulgent, laughing</i>) You rogues: there is no end to your tricks. +I’ll dismiss you all and have elephants to fight. They fight fairly. +(<i>He goes up to his box, and knocks at it. It is opened from within by the +Captain, who stands as on parade to let him pass</i>). The Call Boy comes from +the passage, followed by three attendants carrying respectively a bundle of +swords, some helmets, and some breastplates and pieces of armor which they +throw down in a heap. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY.<br/> +By your leave, Caesar. Number eleven! Gladiators and Christians! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Ferrovius springs up, ready for martyrdom. The other Christians take the +summons as best they can, some joyful and brave, some patient and dignified, +some tearful and helpless, some embracing one another with emotion. The Call +Boy goes back into the passage.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +CAESAR.<br/> +(<i>turning at the door of the box</i>) The hour has come, Ferrovius. I shall +go into my box and see you killed, since you scorn the Pretorian Guard. (<i>He +goes into the box. The Captain shuts the door, remaining inside with the +Emperor. Metellus and the rest of the suite disperse to their seats. The +Christians, led by Ferrovius, move towards the passage</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>to Ferrovius</i>) Farewell. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Steady there. You Christians have got to fight. Here! arm yourselves. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>picking up a sword</i>) I’ll die sword in hand to show people that I +could fight if it were my Master’s will, and that I could kill the man +who kills me if I chose. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Put on that armor. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +No armor. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>bullying him</i>) Do what you’re told. Put on that armor. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>gripping the sword and looking dangerous</i>) I said, No armor. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +And what am I to say when I am accused of sending a naked man in to fight my +men in armor? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Say your prayers, brother; and have no fear of the princes of this world. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Tsha! You obstinate fool! (<i>He bites his lips irresolutely, not knowing +exactly what to do</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>to Ferrovius</i>) Farewell, brother, till we meet in the sweet by-and-by. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>to Androcles</i>) You are going too. Take a sword there; and put on any +armor you can find to fit you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No, really: I can’t fight: I never could. I can’t bring myself to +dislike anyone enough. I’m to be thrown to the lions with the lady. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Then get out of the way and hold your noise. (<i>Androcles steps aside with +cheerful docility</i>). Now then! Are you all ready there? +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>A trumpet is heard from the arena.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>starting convulsively</i>) Heaven give me strength! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Aha! That frightens you, does it? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Man: there is no terror like the terror of that sound to me. When I hear a +trumpet or a drum or the clash of steel or the hum of the catapult as the great +stone flies, fire runs through my veins: I feel my blood surge up hot behind my +eyes: I must charge: I must strike: I must conquer: Caesar himself will not be +safe in his imperial seat if once that spirit gets loose in me. Oh, brothers, +pray! exhort me! remind me that if I raise my sword my honor falls and my +Master is crucified afresh. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Just keep thinking how cruelly you might hurt the poor gladiators. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +It does not hurt a man to kill him. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Nothing but faith can save you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Faith! Which faith? There are two faiths. There is our faith. And there is the +warrior’s faith, the faith in fighting, the faith that sees God in the +sword. How if that faith should overwhelm me? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +You will find your real faith in the hour of trial. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +That is what I fear. I know that I am a fighter. How can I feel sure that I am +a Christian? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Throw away the sword, brother. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I cannot. It cleaves to my hand. I could as easily throw a woman I loved from +my arms. (<i>Starting</i>) Who spoke that blasphemy? Not I. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I can’t help you, friend. I can’t tell you not to save your own +life. Something wilful in me wants to see you fight your way into heaven. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Ha! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +But if you are going to give up our faith, brother, why not do it without +hurting anybody? Don’t fight them. Burn the incense. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Burn the incense! Never. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +That is only pride, Ferrovius. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +ONLY pride! What is nobler than pride? (<i>Conscience stricken</i>) Oh, +I’m steeped in sin. I’m proud of my pride. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +They say we Christians are the proudest devils on earth—that only the +weak are meek. Oh, I am worse than you. I ought to send you to death; and I am +tempting you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Brother, brother: let them rage and kill: let us be brave and suffer. You must +go as a lamb to the slaughter. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Aye, aye: that is right. Not as a lamb is slain by the butcher; but as a +butcher might let himself be slain by a (<i>looking at the Editor</i>) by a +silly ram whose head he could fetch off in one twist. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Before the Editor can retort, the Call Boy rushes up through the passage; +and the Captain comes from the Emperor’s box and descends the steps.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY.<br/> +In with you: into the arena. The stage is waiting. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +The Emperor is waiting. (<i>To the Editor</i>) What are you dreaming of, man? +Send your men in at once. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Yes, Sir: it’s these Christians hanging back. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>in a voice of thunder</i>) Liar! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>not heeding him</i>) March. (<i>The gladiators told off to fight with the +Christians march down the passage</i>) Follow up there, you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CHRISTIAN MEN AND WOMEN.<br/> +(<i>as they part</i>) Be steadfast, brother. Farewell. Hold up the faith, +brother. Farewell. Go to glory, dearest. Farewell. Remember: we are praying for +you. Farewell. Be strong, brother. Farewell. Don’t forget that the divine +love and our love surround you. Farewell. Nothing can hurt you: remember that, +brother. Farewell. Eternal glory, dearest. Farewell. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>out of patience</i>) Shove them in, there. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The remaining gladiators and the Call Boy make a movement towards them.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>interposing</i>) Touch them, dogs; and we die here, and cheat the heathen +of their spectacle. (<i>To his fellow Christians</i>) Brothers: the great +moment has come. That passage is your hill to Calvary. Mount it bravely, but +meekly; and remember! not a word of reproach, not a blow nor a struggle. Go. +(<i>They go out through the passage. He turns to Lavinia</i>) Farewell. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +You forget: I must follow before you are cold. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +It is true. Do not envy me because I pass before you to glory. (<i>He goes +through the passage</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +(<i>to the Call Boy</i>) Sickening work, this. Why can’t they all be +thrown to the lions? It’s not a man’s job. (<i>He throws himself +moodily into his chair</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The remaining gladiators go back to their former places indifferently. The +Call Boy shrugs his shoulders and squats down at the entrance to the passage, +near the Editor.</i> +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Lavinia and the Christian women sit down again, wrung with grief, some +weeping silently, some praying, some calm and steadfast. Androcles sits down at +Lavinia’s feet. The Captain stands on the stairs, watching her +curiously.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I’m glad I haven’t to fight. That would really be an awful +martyrdom. I am lucky. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>looking at him with a pang of remorse</i>). Androcles: burn the incense: +you’ll be forgiven. Let my death atone for both. I feel as if I were +killing you. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Don’t think of me, sister. Think of yourself. That will keep your heart +up. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Captain laughs sardonically.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>startled: she had forgotten his presence</i>) Are you there, handsome +Captain? Have you come to see me die? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>coming to her side</i>) I am on duty with the Emperor, Lavinia. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Is it part of your duty to laugh at us? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +No: that is part of my private pleasure. Your friend here is a humorist. I +laughed at his telling you to think of yourself to keep up your heart. I say, +think of yourself and burn the incense. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +He is not a humorist: he was right. You ought to know that, Captain: you have +been face to face with death. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Not with certain death, Lavinia. Only death in battle, which spares more men +than death in bed. What you are facing is certain death. You have nothing left +now but your faith in this craze of yours: this Christianity. Are your +Christian fairy stories any truer than our stories about Jupiter and Diana, in +which, I may tell you, I believe no more than the Emperor does, or any educated +man in Rome? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Captain: all that seems nothing to me now. I’ll not say that death is a +terrible thing; but I will say that it is so real a thing that when it comes +close, all the imaginary things—all the stories, as you call +them—fade into mere dreams beside that inexorable reality. I know now +that I am not dying for stories or dreams. Did you hear of the dreadful thing +that happened here while we were waiting? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +I heard that one of your fellows bolted, and ran right into the jaws of the +lion. I laughed. I still laugh. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Then you don’t understand what that meant? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +It meant that the lion had a cur for his breakfast. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +It meant more than that, Captain. It meant that a man cannot die for a story +and a dream. None of us believed the stories and the dreams more devoutly than +poor Spintho; but he could not face the great reality. What he would have +called my faith has been oozing away minute by minute whilst I’ve been +sitting here, with death coming nearer and nearer, with reality becoming +realler and realler, with stories and dreams fading away into nothing. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Are you then going to die for nothing? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Yes: that is the wonderful thing. It is since all the stories and dreams have +gone that I have now no doubt at all that I must die for something greater than +dreams or stories. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +But for what? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I don’t know. If it were for anything small enough to know, it would be +too small to die for. I think I’m going to die for God. Nothing else is +real enough to die for. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +What is God? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +When we know that, Captain, we shall be gods ourselves. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Lavinia; come down to earth. Burn the incense and marry me. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Handsome Captain: would you marry me if I hauled down the flag in the day of +battle and burnt the incense? Sons take after their mothers, you know. Do you +want your son to be a coward? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>strongly moved</i>). By great Diana, I think I would strangle you if you +gave in now. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>putting her hand on the head of Androcles</i>) The hand of God is on us +three, Captain. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +What nonsense it all is! And what a monstrous thing that you should die for +such nonsense, and that I should look on helplessly when my whole soul cries +out against it! Die then if you must; but at least I can cut the +Emperor’s throat and then my own when I see your blood. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +The Emperor throws open the door of his box angrily, and appears in wrath on +the threshold. The Editor, the Call Boy, and the gladiators spring to their +feet. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +The Christians will not fight; and your curs cannot get their blood up to +attack them. It’s all that fellow with the blazing eyes. Send for the +whip. (<i>The Call Boy rushes out on the east side for the whip</i>). If that +will not move them, bring the hot irons. The man is like a mountain. (<i>He +returns angrily into the box and slams the door</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The Call Boy returns with a man in a hideous Etruscan mask, carrying a whip. +They both rush down the passage into the arena.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>rising</i>) Oh, that is unworthy. Can they not kill him without dishonoring +him? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>scrambling to his feet and running into the middle of the space between the +staircases</i>) It’s dreadful. Now I want to fight. I can’t bear +the sight of a whip. The only time I ever hit a man was when he lashed an old +horse with a whip. It was terrible: I danced on his face when he was on the +ground. He mustn’t strike Ferrovius: I’ll go into the arena and +kill him first. (<i>He makes a wild dash into the passage. As he does so a +great clamor is heard from the arena, ending in wild applause. The gladiators +listen and look inquiringly at one another</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +What’s up now? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>to the Captain</i>) What has happened, do you think? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +What CAN happen? They are killing them, I suppose. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>running in through the passage, screaming with horror and hiding his +eyes</i>)!!! +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Androcles, Androcles: what’s the matter? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Oh, don’t ask me, don’t ask me. Something too dreadful. Oh! (<i>He +crouches by her and hides his face in her robe, sobbing</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY. (<i>rushing through from the passage as before</i>) Ropes and +hooks there! Ropes and hooks. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EDITOR.<br/> +Well, need you excite yourself about it? (<i>Another burst of applause</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Two slaves in Etruscan masks, with ropes and drag hooks, hurry in.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ONE OF THE SLAVES. How many dead? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY.<br/> +Six. (<i>The slave blows a whistle twice; and four more masked slaves rush +through into the arena with the same apparatus</i>) And the basket. Bring the +baskets. (<i>The slave whistles three times, and runs through the passage with +his companion</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Who are the baskets for? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY.<br/> +For the whip. He’s in pieces. They’re all in pieces, more or less. +(<i>Lavinia hides her face</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Two more masked slaves come in with a basket and follow the others into the +arena, as the Call Boy turns to the gladiators and exclaims, exhausted</i>) +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Boys, he’s killed the lot. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>again bursting from his box, this time in an ecstasy of delight</i>) Where +is he? Magnificent! He shall have a laurel crown. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>Ferrovius, madly waving his bloodstained sword, rushes through the passage +in despair, followed by his co-religionists, and by the menagerie keeper, who +goes to the gladiators. The gladiators draw their swords nervously.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Lost! lost forever! I have betrayed my Master. Cut off this right hand: it has +offended. Ye have swords, my brethren: strike. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +No, no. What have you done, Ferrovius? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +I know not; but there was blood behind my eyes; and there’s blood on my +sword. What does that mean? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>enthusiastically, on the landing outside his box</i>) What does it mean? It +means that you are the greatest man in Rome. It means that you shall have a +laurel crown of gold. Superb fighter, I could almost yield you my throne. It is +a record for my reign: I shall live in history. Once, in Domitian’s time, +a Gaul slew three men in the arena and gained his freedom. But when before has +one naked man slain six armed men of the bravest and best? The persecution +shall cease: if Christians can fight like this, I shall have none but +Christians to fight for me. (<i>To the Gladiators</i>) You are ordered to +become Christians, you there: do you hear? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +RETIARIUS. It is all one to us, Caesar. Had I been there with my net, the story +would have been different. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +(<i>suddenly seizing Lavinia by the wrist and dragging her up the steps to the +Emperor</i>) Caesar this woman is the sister of Ferrovius. If she is thrown to +the lions he will fret. He will lose weight; get out of condition. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +The lions? Nonsense! (<i>To Lavinia</i>) Madam: I am proud to have the honor of +making your acquaintance. Your brother is the glory of Rome. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +But my friends here. Must they die? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +Die! Certainly not. There has never been the slightest idea of harming them. +Ladies and gentlemen: you are all free. Pray go into the front of the house and +enjoy the spectacle to which your brother has so splendidly contributed. +Captain: oblige me by conducting them to the seats reserved for my personal +friends. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER.<br/> +Caesar: I must have one Christian for the lion. The people have been promised +it; and they will tear the decorations to bits if they are disappointed. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +True, true: we must have somebody for the new lion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +Throw me to him. Let the apostate perish. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +No, no: you would tear him in pieces, my friend; and we cannot afford to throw +away lions as if they were mere slaves. But we must have somebody. This is +really extremely awkward. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER.<br/> +Why not that little Greek chap? He’s not a Christian: he’s a +sorcerer. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +The very thing: he will do very well. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CALL BOY. (<i>issuing from the passage</i>) Number twelve. The Christian +for the new lion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>rising, and pulling himself sadly together</i>) Well, it was to be, after +all. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +I’ll go in his place, Caesar. Ask the Captain whether they do not like +best to see a woman torn to pieces. He told me so yesterday. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +There is something in that: there is certainly something in that—if only +I could feel sure that your brother would not fret. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +No: I should never have another happy hour. No: on the faith of a Christian and +the honor of a tailor, I accept the lot that has fallen on me. If my wife turns +up, give her my love and say that my wish was that she should be happy with her +next, poor fellow! Caesar: go to your box and see how a tailor can die. Make +way for number twelve there. (<i>He marches out along the passage</i>). +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The vast audience in the amphitheatre now sees the Emperor re-enter his box +and take his place as Androcles, desperately frightened, but still marching +with piteous devotion, emerges from the other end of the passage, and finds +himself at the focus of thousands of eager eyes. The lion’s cage, with a +heavy portcullis grating, is on his left. The Emperor gives a signal. A gong +sounds. Androcles shivers at the sound; then falls on his knees and prays.</i> +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The grating rises with a clash. The lion bounds into the arena. He rushes +round frisking in his freedom. He sees Androcles. He stops; rises stiffly by +straightening his legs; stretches out his nose forward and his tail in a +horizontal line behind, like a pointer, and utters an appalling roar. Androcles +crouches and hides his face in his hands. The lion gathers himself for a +spring, swishing his tail to and fro through the dust in an ecstasy of +anticipation. Androcles throws up his hands in supplication to heaven. The lion +checks at the sight of Androcles’s face. He then steals towards him; +smells him; arches his back; purrs like a motor car; finally rubs himself +against Androcles, knocking him over. Androcles, supporting himself on his +wrist, looks affrightedly at the lion. The lion limps on three paws, holding up +the other as if it was wounded. A flash of recognition lights up the face of +Androcles. He flaps his hand as if it had a thorn in it, and pretends to pull +the thorn out and to hurt himself. The lion nods repeatedly. Androcles holds +out his hands to the lion, who gives him both paws, which he shakes with +enthusiasm. They embrace rapturously, finally waltz round the arena amid a +sudden burst of deafening applause, and out through the passage, the Emperor +watching them in breathless astonishment until they disappear, when he rushes +from his box and descends the steps in frantic excitement.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +My friends, an incredible! an amazing thing! has happened. I can no longer +doubt the truth of Christianity. (<i>The Christians press to him joyfully</i>) +This Christian sorcerer—(<i>with a yell, he breaks off as he sees +Androcles and the lion emerge from the passage, waltzing. He bolts wildly up +the steps into his box, and slams the door. All, Christians and +gladiators’ alike, fly for their lives, the gladiators bolting into the +arena, the others in all directions. The place is emptied with magical +suddenness</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>naively</i>) Now I wonder why they all run away from us like that. (<i>The +lion combining a series of yawns, purrs, and roars, achieves something very +like a laugh</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>standing on a chair inside his box and looking over the wall</i>) Sorcerer: +I command you to put that lion to death instantly. It is guilty of high +treason. Your conduct is most disgra— (<i>the lion charges at him up the +stairs</i>) help! (<i>He disappears. The lion rears against the box; looks over +the partition at him, and roars. The Emperor darts out through the door and +down to Androcles, pursued by the lion.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Don’t run away, sir: he can’t help springing if you run. (<i>He +seizes the Emperor and gets between him and the lion, who stops at once</i>). +Don’t be afraid of him. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +I am NOT afraid of him. (<i>The lion crouches, growling. The Emperor clutches +Androcles</i>) Keep between us. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Never be afraid of animals, your Worship: that’s the great secret. +He’ll be as gentle as a lamb when he knows that you are his friend. Stand +quite still; and smile; and let him smell you all over just to reassure him; +for, you see, he’s afraid of you; and he must examine you thoroughly +before he gives you his confidence. (<i>To the lion</i>) Come now, Tommy; and +speak nicely to the Emperor, the great, good Emperor who has power to have all +our heads cut off if we don’t behave very, VERY respectfully to him. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The lion utters a fearful roar. The Emperor dashes madly up the steps, +across the landing, and down again on the other side, with the lion in hot +pursuit. Androcles rushes after the lion; overtakes him as he is descending; +and throws himself on his back, trying to use his toes as a brake. Before he +can stop him the lion gets hold of the trailing end of the Emperor’s +robe.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Oh bad wicked Tommy, to chase the Emperor like that! Let go the Emperor’s +robe at once, sir: where’s your manners? (<i>The lion growls and worries +the robe</i>). Don’t pull it away from him, your worship. He’s only +playing. Now I shall be really angry with you, Tommy, if you don’t let +go. (<i>The lion growls again</i>) I’ll tell you what it is, sir: he +thinks you and I are not friends. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>trying to undo the clasp of his brooch</i>) Friends! You infernal scoundrel +(<i>the lion growls</i>) don’t let him go. Curse this brooch! I +can’t get it loose. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +We mustn’t let him lash himself into a rage. You must show him that you +are my particular friend—if you will have the condescension. (<i>He +seizes the Emperor’s hands, and shakes them cordially</i>), Look, Tommy: +the nice Emperor is the dearest friend Andy Wandy has in the whole world: he +loves him like a brother. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +You little brute, you damned filthy little dog of a Greek tailor: I’ll +have you burnt alive for daring to touch the divine person of the Emperor. +(<i>The lion roars</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Oh don’t talk like that, sir. He understands every word you say: all +animals do: they take it from the tone of your voice. (<i>The lion growls and +lashes his tail</i>). I think he’s going to spring at your worship. If +you wouldn’t mind saying something affectionate. (<i>The lion roars</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>shaking Androcles’ hands frantically</i>) My dearest Mr. Androcles, +my sweetest friend, my long lost brother, come to my arms. (<i>He embraces +Androcles</i>). Oh, what an abominable smell of garlic! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +<i>The lion lets go the robe and rolls over on his back, clasping his forepaws +over one another coquettishly above his nose.</i> +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +There! You see, your worship, a child might play with him now. See! (<i>He +tickles the lion’s belly. The lion wriggles ecstatically</i>). Come and +pet him. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +I must conquer these unkingly terrors. Mind you don’t go away from him, +though. (<i>He pats the lion’s chest</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Oh, sir, how few men would have the courage to do that— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +Yes: it takes a bit of nerve. Let us invite the Court in and frighten them. Is +he safe, do you think? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +Quite safe now, sir. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +(<i>majestically</i>) What ho, there! All who are within hearing, return +without fear. Caesar has tamed the lion. (<i>All the fugitives steal cautiously +in. The menagerie keeper comes from the passage with other keepers armed with +iron bars and tridents</i>). Take those things away. I have subdued the beast. +(<i>He places his foot on it</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +(<i>timidly approaching the Emperor and looking down with awe on the lion</i>) +It is strange that I, who fear no man, should fear a lion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +Every man fears something, Ferrovius. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +How about the Pretorian Guard now? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +FERROVIUS.<br/> +In my youth I worshipped Mars, the God of War. I turned from him to serve the +Christian god; but today the Christian god forsook me; and Mars overcame me and +took back his own. The Christian god is not yet. He will come when Mars and I +are dust; but meanwhile I must serve the gods that are, not the God that will +be. Until then I accept service in the Guard, Caesar. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +Very wisely said. All really sensible men agree that the prudent course is to +be neither bigoted in our attachment to the old nor rash and unpractical in +keeping an open mind for the new, but to make the best of both dispensations. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +What do you say, Lavinia? Will you too be prudent? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +(<i>on the stair</i>) No: I’ll strive for the coming of the God who is +not yet. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE CAPTAIN.<br/> +May I come and argue with you occasionally? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +LAVINIA.<br/> +Yes, handsome Captain: you may. (<i>He kisses her hands</i>). +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +And now, my friends, though I do not, as you see, fear this lion, yet the +strain of his presence is considerable; for none of us can feel quite sure what +he will do next. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER.<br/> +Caesar: give us this Greek sorcerer to be a slave in the menagerie. He has a +way with the beasts. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +(<i>distressed</i>). Not if they are in cages. They should not be kept in +cages. They must all be let out. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +THE EMPEROR.<br/> +I give this sorcerer to be a slave to the first man who lays hands on him. +(<i>The menagerie keepers and the gladiators rush for Androcles. The lion +starts up and faces them. They surge back</i>). You see how magnanimous we +Romans are, Androcles. We suffer you to go in peace. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +ANDROCLES.<br/> +I thank your worship. I thank you all, ladies and gentlemen. Come, Tommy. +Whilst we stand together, no cage for you: no slavery for me. (<i>He goes out +with the lion, everybody crowding away to give him as wide a berth as +possible</i>). +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +In this play I have represented one of the Roman persecutions of the early +Christians, not as the conflict of a false theology with a true, but as what +all such persecutions essentially are: an attempt to suppress a propaganda that +seemed to threaten the interests involved in the established law and order, +organized and maintained in the name of religion and justice by politicians who +are pure opportunist Have-and-Holders. People who are shown by their inner +light the possibility of a better world based on the demand of the spirit for a +nobler and more abundant life, not for themselves at the expense of others, but +for everybody, are naturally dreaded and therefore hated by the +Have-and-Holders, who keep always in reserve two sure weapons against them. The +first is a persecution effected by the provocation, organization, and arming of +that herd instinct which makes men abhor all departures from custom, and, by +the most cruel punishments and the wildest calumnies, force eccentric people to +behave and profess exactly as other people do. The second is by leading the +herd to war, which immediately and infallibly makes them forget everything, +even their most cherished and hardwon public liberties and private interests, +in the irresistible surge of their pugnacity and the tense pre-occupation of +their terror. +</p> + +<p> +There is no reason to believe that there was anything more in the Roman +persecutions than this. The attitude of the Roman Emperor and the officers of +his staff towards the opinions at issue were much the same as those of a modern +British Home Secretary towards members of the lower middle classes when some +pious policeman charges them with Bad Taste, technically called blasphemy: Bad +Taste being a violation of Good Taste, which in such matters practically means +Hypocrisy. The Home Secretary and the judges who try the case are usually far +more sceptical and blasphemous than the poor men whom they persecute; and their +professions of horror at the blunt utterance of their own opinions are +revolting to those behind the scenes who have any genuine religious +sensibility; but the thing is done because the governing classes, provided only +the law against blasphemy is not applied to themselves, strongly approve of +such persecution because it enables them to represent their own privileges as +part of the religion of the country. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore my martyrs are the martyrs of all time, and my persecutors the +persecutors of all time. My Emperor, who has no sense of the value of common +people’s lives, and amuses himself with killing as carelessly as with +sparing, is the sort of monster you can make of any silly-clever gentleman by +idolizing him. We are still so easily imposed on by such idols that one of the +leading pastors of the Free Churches in London denounced my play on the ground +that my persecuting Emperor is a very fine fellow, and the persecuted +Christians ridiculous. From which I conclude that a popular pulpit may be as +perilous to a man’s soul as an imperial throne. +</p> + +<p> +All my articulate Christians, the reader will notice, have different +enthusiasms, which they accept as the same religion only because it involves +them in a common opposition to the official religion and consequently in a +common doom. Androcles is a humanitarian naturalist, whose views surprise +everybody. Lavinia, a clever and fearless freethinker, shocks the Pauline +Ferrovius, who is comparatively stupid and conscience ridden. Spintho, the +blackguardly debauchee, is presented as one of the typical Christians of that +period on the authority of St. Augustine, who seems to have come to the +conclusion at one period of his development that most Christians were what we +call wrong uns. No doubt he was to some extent right: I have had occasion often +to point out that revolutionary movements attract those who are not good enough +for established institutions as well as those who are too good for them. +</p> + +<p> +But the most striking aspect of the play at this moment is the terrible +topicality given it by the war. We were at peace when I pointed out, by the +mouth of Ferrovius, the path of an honest man who finds out, when the trumpet +sounds, that he cannot follow Jesus. Many years earlier, in The Devil’s +Disciple, I touched the same theme even more definitely, and showed the +minister throwing off his black coat for ever when he discovered, amid the +thunder of the captains and the shouting, that he was a born fighter. Great +numbers of our clergy have found themselves of late in the position of +Ferrovius and Anthony Anderson. They have discovered that they hate not only +their enemies but everyone who does not share their hatred, and that they want +to fight and to force other people to fight. They have turned their churches +into recruiting stations and their vestries into munition workshops. But it has +never occurred to them to take off their black coats and say quite simply, +“I find in the hour of trial that the Sermon on the Mount is tosh, and +that I am not a Christian. I apologize for all the unpatriotic nonsense I have +been preaching all these years. Have the goodness to give me a revolver and a +commission in a regiment which has for its chaplain a priest of the god Mars: +my God.” Not a bit of it. They have stuck to their livings and served +Mars in the name of Christ, to the scandal of all religious mankind. When the +Archbishop of York behaved like a gentleman and the Head Master of Eton +preached a Christian sermon, and were reviled by the rabble, the Martian +parsons encouraged the rabble. For this they made no apologies or excuses, good +or bad. They simple indulged their passions, just as they had always indulged +their class prejudices and commercial interests, without troubling themselves +for a moment as to whether they were Christians or not. They did not protest +even when a body calling itself the Anti-German League (<i>not having noticed, +apparently, that it had been anticipated by the British Empire, the French +Republic, and the Kingdoms of Italy, Japan, and Serbia</i>) actually succeeded +in closing a church at Forest Hill in which God was worshipped in the German +language. One would have supposed that this grotesque outrage on the commonest +decencies of religion would have provoked a remonstrance from even the +worldliest bench of bishops. But no: apparently it seemed to the bishops as +natural that the House of God should be looted when He allowed German to be +spoken in it as that a baker’s shop with a German name over the door +should be pillaged. Their verdict was, in effect, “Serve God right, for +creating the Germans!” The incident would have been impossible in a +country where the Church was as powerful as the Church of England, had it had +at the same time a spark of catholic as distinguished from tribal religion in +it. As it is, the thing occurred; and as far as I have observed, the only +people who gasped were the Freethinkers. Thus we see that even among men who +make a profession of religion the great majority are as Martian as the majority +of their congregations. The average clergyman is an official who makes his +living by christening babies, marrying adults, conducting a ritual, and making +the best he can (<i>when he has any conscience about it</i>) of a certain +routine of school superintendence, district visiting, and organization of +almsgiving, which does not necessarily touch Christianity at any point except +the point of the tongue. The exceptional or religious clergyman may be an +ardent Pauline salvationist, in which case his more cultivated parishioners +dislike him, and say that he ought to have joined the Methodists. Or he may be +an artist expressing religious emotion without intellectual definition by means +of poetry, music, vestments and architecture, also producing religious ecstacy +by physical expedients, such as fasts and vigils, in which case he is denounced +as a Ritualist. Or he may be either a Unitarian Deist like Voltaire or Tom +Paine, or the more modern sort of Anglican Theosophist to whom the Holy Ghost +is the Elan Vital of Bergson, and the Father and Son are an expression of the +fact that our functions and aspects are manifold, and that we are all sons and +all either potential or actual parents, in which case he is strongly suspected +by the straiter Salvationists of being little better than an Atheist. All these +varieties, you see, excite remark. They may be very popular with their +congregations; but they are regarded by the average man as the freaks of the +Church. The Church, like the society of which it is an organ, is balanced and +steadied by the great central Philistine mass above whom theology looms as a +highly spoken of and doubtless most important thing, like Greek Tragedy, or +classical music, or the higher mathematics, but who are very glad when church +is over and they can go home to lunch or dinner, having in fact, for all +practical purposes, no reasoned convictions at all, and being equally ready to +persecute a poor Freethinker for saying that St. James was not infallible, and +to send one of the Peculiar People to prison for being so very peculiar as to +take St. James seriously. +</p> + +<p> +In short, a Christian martyr was thrown to the lions not because he was a +Christian, but because he was a crank: that is, an unusual sort of person. And +multitudes of people, quite as civilized and amiable as we, crowded to see the +lions eat him just as they now crowd the lion-house in the Zoo at feeding-time, +not because they really cared two-pence about Diana or Christ, or could have +given you any intelligent or correct account of the things Diana and Christ +stood against one another for, but simply because they wanted to see a curious +and exciting spectacle. You, dear reader, have probably run to see a fire; and +if somebody came in now and told you that a lion was chasing a man down the +street you would rush to the window. And if anyone were to say that you were as +cruel as the people who let the lion loose on the man, you would be justly +indignant. Now that we may no longer see a man hanged, we assemble outside the +jail to see the black flag run up. That is our duller method of enjoying +ourselves in the old Roman spirit. And if the Government decided to throw +persons of unpopular or eccentric views to the lions in the Albert Hall or the +Earl’s Court stadium tomorrow, can you doubt that all the seats would be +crammed, mostly by people who could not give you the most superficial account +of the views in question. Much less unlikely things have happened. It is true +that if such a revival does take place soon, the martyrs will not be members of +heretical religious sects: they will be Peculiars, Anti-Vivisectionists, +Flat-Earth men, scoffers at the laboratories, or infidels who refuse to kneel +down when a procession of doctors goes by. But the lions will hurt them just as +much, and the spectators will enjoy themselves just as much, as the Roman lions +and spectators used to do. +</p> + +<p> +It was currently reported in the Berlin newspapers that when Androcles was +first performed in Berlin, the Crown Prince rose and left the house, unable to +endure the (<i>I hope</i>) very clear and fair exposition of autocratic +Imperialism given by the Roman captain to his Christian prisoners. No English +Imperialist was intelligent and earnest enough to do the same in London. If the +report is correct, I confirm the logic of the Crown Prince, and am glad to find +myself so well understood. But I can assure him that the Empire which served +for my model when I wrote Androcles was, as he is now finding to his cost, much +nearer my home than the German one. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a76d2e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #4003 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4003) diff --git a/old/4003.txt b/old/4003.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3693eef --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4003.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2562 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Androcles and the Lion, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Androcles and the Lion + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Posting Date: June 4, 2009 [EBook #4003] +Release Date: May, 2003 +First Posted: October 5, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION *** + + + + +Produced by Eve Sobol. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +ANDROCLES AND THE LION + +BERNARD SHAW + +1912 + + + +PROLOGUE + +Overture; forest sounds, roaring of lions, Christian hymn +faintly. + +A jungle path. A lion's roar, a melancholy suffering roar, comes +from the jungle. It is repeated nearer. The lion limps from the +jungle on three legs, holding up his right forepaw, in which a +huge thorn sticks. He sits down and contemplates it. He licks it. +He shakes it. He tries to extract it by scraping it along the +ground, and hurts himself worse. He roars piteously. He licks it +again. Tears drop from his eyes. He limps painfully off the path +and lies down under the trees, exhausted with pain. Heaving a +long sigh, like wind in a trombone, he goes to sleep. + +Androcles and his wife Megaera come along the path. He is a +small, thin, ridiculous little man who might be any age from +thirty to fifty-five. He has sandy hair, watery compassionate +blue eyes, sensitive nostrils, and a very presentable forehead; +but his good points go no further; his arms and legs and back, +though wiry of their kind, look shrivelled and starved. He +carries a big bundle, is very poorly clad, and seems tired and +hungry. + +His wife is a rather handsome pampered slattern, well fed and in +the prime of life. She has nothing to carry, and has a stout +stick to help her along. + +MEGAERA (suddenly throwing down her stick) I won't go another +step. + +ANDROCLES (pleading wearily) Oh, not again, dear. What's the good +of stopping every two miles and saying you won't go another step? +We must get on to the next village before night. There are wild +beasts in this wood: lions, they say. + +MEGAERA. I don't believe a word of it. You are always threatening +me with wild beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body +when I can hardly drag one foot before another. We haven't seen a +single lion yet. + +ANDROCLES. Well, dear, do you want to see one? + +MEGAERA (tearing the bundle from his back) You cruel beast, you +don't care how tired I am, or what becomes of me (she throws the +bundle on the ground): always thinking of yourself. Self! self! +self! always yourself! (She sits down on the bundle). + +ANDROCLES (sitting down sadly on the ground with his elbows on +his knees and his head in his hands) We all have to think of +ourselves occasionally, dear. + +MEGAERA. A man ought to think of his wife sometimes. + +ANDROCLES. He can't always help it, dear. You make me think of +you a good deal. Not that I blame you. + +MEGAERA. Blame me! I should think not indeed. Is it my fault that +I'm married to you? + +ANDROCLES. No, dear: that is my fault. + +MEGAERA. That's a nice thing to say to me. Aren't you happy with +me? + +ANDROCLES. I don't complain, my love. + +MEGAERA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. + +ANDROCLES. I am, my dear. + +MEGAERA. You're not: you glory in it. + +ANDROCLES. In what, darling? + +MEGAERA. In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself +a laughing-stock. Its not fair. You get me the name of being a +shrew with your meek ways, always talking as if butter wouldn't +melt in your mouth. And just because I look a big strong woman, +and because I'm good-hearted and a bit hasty, and because you're +always driving me to do things I'm sorry for afterwards, people +say "Poor man: what a life his wife leads him!" Oh, if they only +knew! And you think I don't know. But I do, I do, (screaming) I +do. + +ANDROCLES. Yes, my dear: I know you do. + +MEGAERA. Then why don't you treat me properly and be a good +husband to me? + +ANDROCLES. What can I do, my dear? + +MEGAERA. What can you do! You can return to your duty, and come +back to your home and your friends, and sacrifice to the gods as +all respectable people do, instead of having us hunted out of +house and home for being dirty, disreputable, blaspheming +atheists. + +ANDROCLES. I'm not an atheist, dear: I am a Christian. + +MEGAERA. Well, isn't that the same thing, only ten times worse? +Everybody knows that the Christians are the very lowest of the +low. + +ANDROCLES. Just like us, dear. + +MEGAERA. Speak for yourself. Don't you dare to compare me to +common people. My father owned his own public-house; and +sorrowful was the day for me when you first came drinking in our +bar. + +ANDROCLES. I confess I was addicted to it, dear. But I gave it +up when I became a Christian. + +MEGAERA. You'd much better have remained a drunkard. I can +forgive a man being addicted to drink: its only natural; and I +don't deny I like a drop myself sometimes. What I can't stand is +your being addicted to Christianity. And what's worse again, your +being addicted to animals. How is any woman to keep her house +clean when you bring in every stray cat and lost cur and lame +duck in the whole countryside? You took the bread out of my mouth +to feed them: you know you did: don't attempt to deny it. + +ANDROCLES. Only when they were hungry and you were getting too +stout, dearie. + +MEGAERA. Yes, insult me, do. (Rising) Oh! I won't bear it another +moment. You used to sit and talk to those dumb brute beasts for +hours, when you hadn't a word for me. + +ANDROCLES. They never answered back, darling. (He rises and again +shoulders the bundle). + +MEGAERA. Well, if you're fonder of animals than of your own wife, +you can live with them here in the jungle. I've had enough of +them and enough of you. I'm going back. I'm going home. + +ANDROCLES (barring the way back) No, dearie: don't take on like +that. We can't go back. We've sold everything: we should starve; +and I should be sent to Rome and thrown to the lions-- + +MEGAERA. Serve you right! I wish the lions joy of you. +(Screaming) Are you going to get out of my way and let me go +home? + +ANDROCLES. No, dear-- + +MEGAERA. Then I'll make my way through the forest; and when I'm +eaten by the wild beasts you'll know what a wife you've lost. +(She dashes into the jungle and nearly falls over the sleeping +lion). Oh! Oh! Andy! Andy! (She totters back and collapses into +the arms of Androcles, who, crushed by her weight, falls on his +bundle). + +ANDROCLES (extracting himself from beneath her and slapping her +hands in great anxiety) What is it, my precious, my pet? What's +the matter? (He raises her head. Speechless with terror, she +points in the direction of the sleeping lion. He steals +cautiously towards the spot indicated by Megaera. She rises with +an effort and totters after him). + +MEGAERA. No, Andy: you'll be killed. Come back. + +The lion utters a long snoring sigh. Androcles sees the lion and +recoils fainting into the arms of Megaera, who falls back on the +bundle. They roll apart and lie staring in terror at one another. +The lion is heard groaning heavily in the jungle. + +ANDROCLES (whispering) Did you see? A lion. + +MEGAERA (despairing) The gods have sent him to punish us because +you're a Christian. Take me away, Andy. Save me. + +ANDROCLES (rising) Meggy: there's one chance for you. It'll take +him pretty nigh twenty minutes to eat me (I'm rather stringy and +tough) and you can escape in less time than that. + +MEGAERA. Oh, don't talk about eating. (The lion rises with a +great groan and limps towards them). Oh! (She faints). + +ANDROCLES (quaking, but keeping between the lion and Megaera) +Don't you come near my wife, do you hear? (The lion groans. +Androcles can hardly stand for trembling). Meggy: run. Run for +your life. If I take my eye off him, its all up. (The lion holds +up his wounded paw and flaps it piteously before Androcles). Oh, +he's lame, poor old chap! He's got a thorn in his paw. A +frightfully big thorn. (Full of sympathy) Oh, poor old man! Did +um get an awful thorn into um's tootsums wootsums? Has it made um +too sick to eat a nice little Christian man for um's breakfast? +Oh, a nice little Christian man will get um's thorn out for um; +and then um shall eat the nice Christian man and the nice +Christian man's nice big tender wifey pifey. (The lion responds +by moans of self-pity). Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Now, now (taking +the paw in his hand) um is not to bite and not to scratch, not +even if it hurts a very, very little. Now make velvet paws. +That's right. (He pulls gingerly at the thorn. The lion, with an +angry yell of pain, jerks back his paw so abruptly that Androcles +is thrown on his back). Steadeee! Oh, did the nasty cruel little +Christian man hurt the sore paw? (The lion moans assentingly but +apologetically). Well, one more little pull and it will be all +over. Just one little, little, leetle pull; and then um will live +happily ever after. (He gives the thorn another pull. The lion +roars and snaps his jaws with a terrifying clash). Oh, mustn't +frighten um's good kind doctor, um's affectionate nursey. That +didn't hurt at all: not a bit. Just one more. Just to show how +the brave big lion can bear pain, not like the little crybaby +Christian man. Oopsh! (The thorn comes out. The lion yells with +pain, and shakes his paw wildly). That's it! (Holding up the +thorn). Now it's out. Now lick um's paw to take away the nasty +inflammation. See? (He licks his own hand. The lion nods +intelligently and licks his paw industriously). Clever little +liony-piony! Understands um's dear old friend Andy Wandy. (The +lion licks his face). Yes, kissums Andy Wandy. (The lion, +wagging his tail violently, rises on his hind legs and embraces +Androcles, who makes a wry face and cries) Velvet paws! Velvet +paws! (The lion draws in his claws). That's right. (He embraces +the lion, who finally takes the end of his tail in one paw, +places that tight around Androcles' waist, resting it on his hip. +Androcles takes the other paw in his hand, stretches out his arm, +and the two waltz rapturously round and round and finally away +through the jungle). + +MEGAERA (who has revived during the waltz) Oh, you coward, you +haven't danced with me for years; and now you go off dancing with +a great brute beast that you haven't known for ten minutes and +that wants to eat your own wife. Coward! Coward! Coward! (She +rushes off after them into the jungle). + + + +ACT I + +Evening. The end of three converging roads to Rome. Three +triumphal arches span them where they debouch on a square at the +gate of the city. Looking north through the arches one can see +the campagna threaded by the three long dusty tracks. On the east +and west sides of the square are long stone benches. An old +beggar sits on the east side of the square, his bowl at his feet. +Through the eastern arch a squad of Roman soldiers tramps along +escorting a batch of Christian prisoners of both sexes and all +ages, among them one Lavinia, a goodlooking resolute young woman, +apparently of higher social standing than her fellow-prisoners. A +centurion, carrying his vinewood cudgel, trudges alongside the +squad, on its right, in command of it. All are tired and dusty; +but the soldiers are dogged and indifferent, the Christians +light-hearted and determined to treat their hardships as a joke +and encourage one another. + +A bugle is heard far behind on the road, where the rest of the +cohort is following. + +CENTURION (stopping) Halt! Orders from the Captain. (They halt +and wait). Now then, you Christians, none of your larks. The +captain's coming. Mind you behave yourselves. No singing. Look +respectful. Look serious, if you're capable of it. See that big +building over there? That's the Coliseum. That's where you'll be +thrown to the lions or set to fight the gladiators presently. +Think of that; and it'll help you to behave properly before the +captain. (The Captain arrives). Attention! Salute! (The soldiers +salute). + +A CHRISTIAN (cheerfully) God bless you, Captain. + +THE CENTURION (scandalised) Silence! + +The Captain, a patrician, handsome, about thirty-five, very cold +and distinguished, very superior and authoritative, steps up on a +stone seat at the west side of the square, behind the centurion, +so as to dominate the others more effectually. + +THE CAPTAIN. Centurion. + +THE CENTURION. (standing at attention and saluting) Sir? + +THE CAPTAIN (speaking stiffly and officially) You will remind +your men, Centurion, that we are now entering Rome. You will +instruct them that once inside the gates of Rome they are in the +presence of the Emperor. You will make them understand that the +lax discipline of the march cannot be permitted here. You will +instruct them to shave every day, not every week. You will +impress on them particularly that there must be an end to the +profanity and blasphemy of singing Christian hymns on the march. +I have to reprimand you, Centurion, for not only allowing this, +but actually doing it yourself. + +THE CENTURION. The men march better, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. No doubt. For that reason an exception is made in +the case of the march called Onward Christian Soldiers. This may +be sung, except when marching through the forum or within hearing +of the Emperor's palace; but the words must be altered to "Throw +them to the Lions." + +The Christians burst into shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, to +the great scandal of the Centurion. + +CENTURION. Silence! Silen-n-n-n-nce! Where's your behavior? Is +that the way to listen to an officer? (To the Captain) That's +what we have to put up with from these Christians every day, sir. +They're always laughing and joking something scandalous. They've +no religion: that's how it is. + +LAVINIA. But I think the Captain meant us to laugh, Centurion. It +was so funny. + +CENTURION. You'll find out how funny it is when you're thrown to +the lions to-morrow. (To the Captain, who looks displeased) Beg +pardon, Sir. (To the Christians) Silennnnce! + +THE CAPTAIN. You are to instruct your men that all intimacy with +Christian prisoners must now cease. The men have fallen into +habits of dependence upon the prisoners, especially the female +prisoners, for cooking, repairs to uniforms, writing letters, and +advice in their private affairs. In a Roman soldier such +dependence is inadmissible. Let me see no more of it whilst we +are in the city. Further, your orders are that in addressing +Christian prisoners, the manners and tone of your men must +express abhorrence and contempt. Any shortcoming in this respect +will be regarded as a breach of discipline.(He turns to the +prisoners) Prisoners. + +CENTURION (fiercely) Prisonerrrrrs! Tention! Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. I call your attention, prisoners, to the fact that +you may be called on to appear in the Imperial Circus at any time +from tomorrow onwards according to the requirements of the +managers. I may inform you that as there is a shortage of +Christians just now, you may expect to be called on very soon. + +LAVINIA. What will they do to us, Captain? + +CENTURION. Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. The women will be conducted into the arena with the +wild beasts of the Imperial Menagerie, and will suffer the +consequences. The men, if of an age to bear arms, will be given +weapons to defend themselves, if they choose, against the +Imperial Gladiators. + +LAVINIA. Captain: is there no hope that this cruel persecution-- + +CENTURION (shocked) Silence! Hold your tongue, there. +Persecution, indeed! + +THE CAPTAIN (unmoved and somewhat sardonic) Persecution is not a +term applicable to the acts of the Emperor. The Emperor is the +Defender of the Faith. In throwing you to the lions he will be +upholding the interests of religion in Rome. If you were to throw +him to the lions, that would no doubt be persecution. + +The Christians again laugh heartily. + +CENTURION (horrified) Silence, I tell you! Keep silence there. +Did anyone ever hear the like of this? + +LAVINIA. Captain: there will be nobody to appreciate your jokes +when we are gone. + +THE CAPTAIN (unshaken in his official delivery) I call the +attention of the female prisoner Lavinia to the fact that as the +Emperor is a divine personage, her imputation of cruelty is not +only treason, but sacrilege. I point out to her further that +there is no foundation for the charge, as the Emperor does not +desire that any prisoner should suffer; nor can any Christian be +harmed save through his or her own obstinacy. All that is +necessary is to sacrifice to the gods: a simple and convenient +ceremony effected by dropping a pinch of incense on the altar, +after which the prisoner is at once set free. Under such +circumstances you have only your own perverse folly to blame if +you suffer. I suggest to you that if you cannot burn a morsel of +incense as a matter of conviction, you might at least do so as a +matter of good taste, to avoid shocking the religious convictions +of your fellow citizens. I am aware that these considerations do +not weigh with Christians; but it is my duty to call your +attention to them in order that you may have no ground for +complaining of your treatment, or of accusing the Emperor of +cruelty when he is showing you the most signal clemency. +Looked at from this point of view, every Christian who has +perished in the arena has really committed suicide. + +LAVINIA. Captain: your jokes are too grim. Do not think it is +easy for us to die. Our faith makes life far stronger and more +wonderful in us than when we walked in darkness and had nothing +to live for. Death is harder for us than for you: the martyr's +agony is as bitter as his triumph is glorious. + +THE CAPTAIN (rather troubled, addressing her personally and +gravely) A martyr, Lavinia, is a fool. Your death will prove +nothing. + +LAVINIA. Then why kill me? + +THE CAPTAIN. I mean that truth, if there be any truth, needs no +martyrs. + +LAVINIA. No; but my faith, like your sword, needs testing. Can +you test your sword except by staking your life on it? + +THE CAPTAIN (suddenly resuming his official tone) I call the +attention of the female prisoner to the fact that Christians are +not allowed to draw the Emperor's officers into arguments and put +questions to them for which the military regulations provide no +answer. (The Christians titter). + +LAVINIA. Captain: how CAN you? + +THE CAPTAIN. I call the female prisoner's attention specially to +the fact that four comfortable homes have been offered her by +officers of this regiment, of which she can have her choice the +moment she chooses to sacrifice as all well-bred Roman ladies do. +I have no more to say to the prisoners. + +CENTURION. Dismiss! But stay where you are. + +THE CAPTAIN. Centurion: you will remain here with your men in +charge of the prisoners until the arrival of three Christian +prisoners in the custody of a cohort of the tenth legion. Among +these prisoners you will particularly identify an armorer named +Ferrovius, of dangerous character and great personal strength, +and a Greek tailor reputed to be a sorcerer, by name Androcles. +You will add the three to your charge here and march them all to +the Coliseum, where you will deliver them into the custody of the +master of the gladiators and take his receipt, countersigned by +the keeper of the beasts and the acting manager. You understand +your instructions? + +CENTURION. Yes, Sir. + +THE CAPTAIN. Dismiss. (He throws off his air of parade, and +descends down from the perch. The Centurion seats on it and +prepares for a nap, whilst his men stand at ease. The Christians +sit down on the west side of the square, glad to rest. Lavinia +alone remains standing to speak to the Captain). + +LAVINIA. Captain: is this man who is to join us the famous +Ferrovius, who has made such wonderful conversions in the +northern cities? + +THE CAPTAIN. Yes. We are warned that he has the strength of an +elephant and the temper of a mad bull. Also that he is stark mad. +Not a model Christian, it would seem. + +LAVINIA. You need not fear him if he is a Christian, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN (coldly) I shall not fear him in any case, Lavinia. + +LAVINIA (her eyes dancing) How brave of you, Captain! + +THE CAPTAIN. You are right: it was silly thing to say. (In a +lower tone, humane and urgent) Lavinia: do Christians know how to +love? + +LAVINIA (composedly) Yes, Captain: they love even their enemies. + +THE CAPTAIN. Is that easy? + +LAVINIA. Very easy, Captain, when their enemies are as handsome +as you. + +THE CAPTAIN. Lavinia: you are laughing at me. + +LAVINIA. At you, Captain! Impossible. + +THE CAPTAIN. Then you are flirting with me, which is worse. Don't +be foolish. + +LAVINIA. But such a very handsome captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. Incorrigible! (Urgently) Listen to me. The men in +that audience tomorrow will be the vilest of voluptuaries: men in +whom the only passion excited by a beautiful woman is a lust to +see her tortured and torn shrieking limb from limb. It is a crime +to dignify that passion. It is offering yourself for violation by +the whole rabble of the streets and the riff-raff of the court at +the same time. Why will you not choose rather a kindly love and +an honorable alliance? + +LAVINIA. They cannot violate my soul. I alone can do that by +sacrificing to false gods. + +THE CAPTAIN. Sacrifice then to the true God. What does his name +matter? We call him Jupiter. The Greeks call him Zeus. Call him +what you will as you drop the incense on the altar flame: He will +understand. + +LAVINIA. No. I couldn't. That is the strange thing, Captain, that +a little pinch of incense should make all that difference. +Religion is such a great thing that when I meet really religious +people we are friends at once, no matter what name we give to the +divine will that made us and moves us. Oh, do you think that I, a +woman, would quarrel with you for sacrificing to a woman god like +Diana, if Diana meant to you what Christ means to me? No: we +should kneel side by side before her altar like two children. But +when men who believe neither in my god nor in their own--men who +do not know the meaning of the word religion--when these men drag +me to the foot of an iron statue that has become the symbol of +the terror and darkness through which they walk, of their cruelty +and greed, of their hatred of God and their oppression of man--when +they ask me to pledge my soul before the people that this +hideous idol is God, and that all this wickedness and falsehood +is divine truth, I cannot do it, not if they could put a thousand +cruel deaths on me. I tell you, it is physically impossible. +Listen, Captain: did you ever try to catch a mouse in your hand? +Once there was a dear little mouse that used to come out and play +on my table as I was reading. I wanted to take him in my hand and +caress him; and sometimes he got among my books so that he could +not escape me when I stretched out my hand. And I did stretch out +my hand; but it always came back in spite of me. I was not afraid +of him in my heart; but my hand refused: it is not in the nature +of my hand to touch a mouse. Well, Captain, if I took a pinch of +incense in my hand and stretched it out over the altar fire, my +hand would come back. My body would be true to my faith even if +you could corrupt my mind. And all the time I should believe more +in Diana than my persecutors have ever believed in anything. Can +you understand that? + +THE CAPTAIN (simply) Yes: I understand that. But my hand would +not come back. The hand that holds the sword has been trained not +to come back from anything but victory. + +LAVINIA. Not even from death? + +THE CAPTAIN. Least of all from death. + +LAVINIA. Then I must not come back either. A woman has to be +braver than a soldier. + +THE CAPTAIN. Prouder, you mean. + +LAVINIA (startled) Prouder! You call our courage pride! + +THE CAPTAIN. There is no such thing as courage: there is only +pride. You Christians are the proudest devils on earth. + +LAVINIA (hurt) Pray God then my pride may never become a false +pride. (She turns away as if she did not wish to continue the +conversation, but softens and says to him with a smile) Thank you +for trying to save me from death. + +THE CAPTAIN. I knew it was no use; but one tries in spite of +one's knowledge. + +LAVINIA. Something stirs, even in the iron breast of a Roman +soldier! + +THE CAPTAIN. It will soon be iron again. I have seen many women +die, and forgotten them in a week. + +LAVINIA. Remember me for a fortnight, handsome Captain. I shall +be watching you, perhaps. + +THE CAPTAIN. From the skies? Do not deceive yourself, Lavinia. +There is no future for you beyond the grave. + +LAVINIA. What does that matter? Do you think I am only running +away from the terrors of life into the comfort of heaven? If +there were no future, or if the future were one of torment, I +should have to go just the same. The hand of God is upon me. + +THE CAPTAIN. Yes: when all is said, we are both patricians, +Lavinia, and must die for our beliefs. Farewell. (He offers her +his hand. She takes it and presses it. He walks away, trim and +calm. She looks after him for a moment, and cries a little as he +disappears through the eastern arch. A trumpet-call is heard from +the road through the western arch). + +CENTURION (waking up and rising) Cohort of the tenth with +prisoners. Two file out with me to receive them. (He goes out +through the western arch, followed by four soldiers in two +files). + +Lentulus and Metellus come into the square from the west side +with a little retinue of servants. Both are young courtiers, +dressed in the extremity of fashion. Lentulus is slender, +fair-haired, epicene. Metellus is manly, compactly built, olive +skinned, not a talker. + +LENTULUS. Christians, by Jove! Let's chaff them. + +METELLUS. Awful brutes. If you knew as much about them as I do +you wouldn't want to chaff them. Leave them to the lions. + +LENTULUS (indicating Lavinia, who is still looking towards the +arches after the captain). That woman's got a figure. (He walks +past her, staring at her invitingly, but she is preoccupied and +is not conscious of him). Do you turn the other cheek when they +kiss you? + +LAVINIA (starting) What? + +LENTULus. Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you, +fascinating Christian? + +LAVINIA. Don't be foolish. (To Metellus, who has remained on her +right, so that she is between them) Please don't let your friend +behave like a cad before the soldiers. How are they to respect +and obey patricians if they see them behaving like street boys? +(Sharply to Lentulus) Pull yourself together, man. Hold your head +up. Keep the corners of your mouth firm; and treat me respectfully. +What do you take me for? + +LENTULUS (irresolutely) Look here, you know: I--you--I-- + +LAVINIA. Stuff! Go about your business. (She turns decisively +away and sits down with her comrades, leaving him disconcerted). + +METELLUS. You didn't get much out of that. I told you they were +brutes. + +LENTULUS. Plucky little filly! I suppose she thinks I care. (With +an air of indifference he strolls with Metellus to the east side +of the square, where they stand watching the return of the +Centurion through the western arch with his men, escorting three +prisoners: Ferrovius, Androcles, and Spintho. Ferrovius is a +powerful, choleric man in the prime of life, with large nostrils, +staring eyes, and a thick neck: a man whose sensibilities are +keen and violent to the verge of madness. Spintho is a debauchee, +the wreck of a good-looking man gone hopelessly to the bad. +Androcles is overwhelmed with grief, and is restraining his tears +with great difficulty). + +THE CENTURION (to Lavinia) Here are some pals for you. This +little bit is Ferrovius that you talk so much about. (Ferrovius +turns on him threateningly. The Centurion holds up his left +forefinger in admonition). Now remember that you're a Christian, +and that you've got to return good for evil. (Ferrovius controls +himself convulsively; moves away from temptation to the east side +near Lentulus; clasps his hands in silent prayer; and throws +himself on his knees). That's the way to manage them, eh! This +fine fellow (indicating Androcles, who comes to his left, and +makes Lavinia a heartbroken salutation) is a sorcerer. A Greek +tailor, he is. A real sorcerer, too: no mistake about it. The +tenth marches with a leopard at the head of the column. He made a +pet of the leopard; and now he's crying at being parted from it. +(Androcles sniffs lamentably). Ain't you, old chap? Well, cheer +up, we march with a Billy goat (Androcles brightens up) that's +killed two leopards and ate a turkey-cock. You can have him for a +pet if you like. (Androcles, quite consoled, goes past the +Centurion to Lavinia, and sits down contentedly on the ground on +her left). This dirty dog (collaring Spintho) is a real +Christian. He mobs the temples, he does (at each accusation he +gives the neck of Spintho's tunic a twist); he goes smashing +things mad drunk, he does; he steals the gold vessels, he does; +he assaults the priestesses, he does pah! (He flings Spintho into +the middle of the group of prisoners). You're the sort that makes +duty a pleasure, you are. + +SPINTHO (gasping) That's it: strangle me. Kick me. Beat me. +Revile me. Our Lord was beaten and reviled. That's my way to +heaven. Every martyr goes to heaven, no matter what he's done. +That is so, isn't it, brother? + +CENTURION. Well, if you're going to heaven, _I_ don't want to go +there. I wouldn't be seen with you. + +LENTULUS. Haw! Good! (Indicating the kneeling Ferrovius). Is this +one of the turn-the-other-cheek gentlemen, Centurion? + +CENTURION. Yes, sir. Lucky for you too, sir, if you want to take +any liberties with him. + +LENTULUS (to Ferrovius) You turn the other cheek when you're +struck, I'm told. + +FERROVIUS (slowly turning his great eyes on him) Yes, by the +grace of God, I do, NOW. + +LENTULUS. Not that you're a coward, of course; but out of pure +piety. + +FERROVIUS. I fear God more than man; at least I try to. + +LENTULUS. Let's see. (He strikes him on the cheek. Androcles +makes a wild movement to rise and interfere; but Lavinia holds +him down, watching Ferrovius intently. Ferrovius, without +flinching, turns the other cheek. Lentulus, rather out of +countenance, titters foolishly, and strikes him again feebly). +You know, I should feel ashamed if I let myself be struck like +that, and took it lying down. But then I'm not a Christian: I'm a +man. (Ferrovius rises impressively and towers over him. Lentulus +becomes white with terror; and a shade of green flickers in his +cheek for a moment). + +FERROVIUS (with the calm of a steam hammer) I have not always +been faithful. The first man who struck me as you have just +struck me was a stronger man than you: he hit me harder than I +expected. I was tempted and fell; and it was then that I first +tasted bitter shame. I never had a happy moment after that until +I had knelt and asked his forgiveness by his bedside in the +hospital. (Putting his hands on Lentulus's shoulders with +paternal weight). But now I have learnt to resist with a strength +that is not my own. I am not ashamed now, nor angry. + +LENTULUS (uneasily) Er--good evening. (He tries to move away). + +FERROVIUS (gripping his shoulders) Oh, do not harden your heart, +young man. Come: try for yourself whether our way is not better +than yours. I will now strike you on one cheek; and you will turn +the other and learn how much better you will feel than if you +gave way to the promptings of anger. (He holds him with one hand +and clenches the other fist). + +LENTULUS. Centurion: I call on you to protect me. + +CENTURION. You asked for it, sir. It's no business of ours. +You've had two whacks at him. Better pay him a trifle and square +it that way. + +LENTULUS. Yes, of course. (To Ferrovius) It was only a bit of +fun, I assure you: I meant no harm. Here. (He proffers a gold +coin). + +FERROVIUS (taking it and throwing it to the old beggar, who +snatches it up eagerly, and hobbles off to spend it) Give all +thou hast to the poor. Come, friend: courage! I may hurt your +body for a moment; but your soul will rejoice in the victory of +the spirit over the flesh. (He prepares to strike). + +ANDROCLES. Easy, Ferrovius, easy: you broke the last man's jaw. + +Lentulus, with a moan of terror, attempts to fly; but Ferrovius +holds him ruthlessly. + +FERROVIUS. Yes; but I saved his soul. What matters a broken jaw? + +LENTULUS. Don't touch me, do you hear? The law-- + +FERROVIUS. The law will throw me to the lions tomorrow: what +worse could it do were I to slay you? Pray for strength; and it +shall be given to you. + +LENTULUS. Let me go. Your religion forbids you to strike me. + +FERROVIUS. On the contrary, it commands me to strike you. How can +you turn the other cheek, if you are not first struck on the one +cheek? + +LENTULUS (almost in tears) But I'm convinced already that what +you said is quite right. I apologize for striking you. + +FERROVIUS (greatly pleased) My son: have I softened your heart? +Has the good seed fallen in a fruitful place? Are your feet +turning towards a better path? + +LENTULUS (abjectly) Yes, yes. There's a great deal in what you +say. + +FERROVIUS (radiant) Join us. Come to the lions. Come to suffering +and death. + +LENTULUS (falling on his knees and bursting into tears) Oh, help +me. Mother! mother! + +FERROVIUS. These tears will water your soul and make it bring +forth good fruit, my son. God has greatly blessed my efforts at +conversion. Shall I tell you a miracle--yes, a miracle--wrought +by me in Cappadocia? A young man--just such a one as you, with +golden hair like yours--scoffed at and struck me as you scoffed +at and struck me. I sat up all night with that youth wrestling +for his soul; and in the morning not only was he a Christian, but +his hair was as white as snow. (Lentulus falls in a dead faint). +There, there: take him away. The spirit has overwrought him, poor +lad. Carry him gently to his house; and leave the rest to heaven. + +CENTURION. Take him home. (The servants, intimidated, hastily +carry him out. Metellus is about to follow when Ferrovius lays +his hand on his shoulder). + +FERROVIUS. You are his friend, young man. You will see that he +is taken safely home. + +METELLUS (with awestruck civility) Certainly, sir. I shall do +whatever you think best. Most happy to have made your acquaintance, +I'm sure. You may depend on me. Good evening, sir. + +FERROVIUS (with unction) The blessing of heaven upon you and him. + +Metellus follows Lentulus. The Centurion returns to his seat to +resume his interrupted nap. The deepest awe has settled on the +spectators. Ferrovius, with a long sigh of happiness, goes to +Lavinia, and offers her his hand. + +LAVINIA (taking it) So that is how you convert people, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. Yes: there has been a blessing on my work in spite of +my unworthiness and my backslidings--all through my wicked, +devilish temper. This man-- + +ANDROCLES (hastily) Don't slap me on the back, brother. She knows +you mean me. + +FERROVIUS. How I wish I were weak like our brother here! for then +I should perhaps be meek and gentle like him. And yet there seems +to be a special providence that makes my trials less than his. I +hear tales of the crowd scoffing and casting stones and reviling +the brethren; but when I come, all this stops: my influence calms +the passions of the mob: they listen to me in silence; and +infidels are often converted by a straight heart-to-heart talk +with me. Every day I feel happier, more confident. Every day +lightens the load of the great terror. + +LAVINIA. The great terror? What is that? + +Ferrovius shakes his head and does not answer. He sits down +beside her on her left, and buries his face in his hands in +gloomy meditation. + +ANDROCLES. Well, you see, sister, he's never quite sure of +himself. Suppose at the last moment in the arena, with the +gladiators there to fight him, one of them was to say anything to +annoy him, he might forget himself and lay that gladiator out. + +LAVINIA. That would be splendid. + +FERROVIUS (springing up in horror) What! + +ANDROCLES. Oh, sister! + +FERROVIUS. Splendid to betray my master, like Peter! Splendid to +act like any common blackguard in the day of my proving! Woman: +you are no Christian. (He moves away from her to the middle of +the square, as if her neighborhood contaminated him). + +LAVINIA (laughing) You know, Ferrovius, I am not always a +Christian. I don't think anybody is. There are moments when I +forget all about it, and something comes out quite naturally, as +it did then. + +SPINTHO. What does it matter? If you die in the arena, you'll be +a martyr; and all martyrs go to heaven, no matter what they have +done. That's so, isn't it, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. Yes: that is so, if we are faithful to the end. + +LAVINIA. I'm not so sure. + +SPINTHO. Don't say that. That's blasphemy. Don't say that, I tell +you. We shall be saved, no matter WHAT we do. + +LAVINIA. Perhaps you men will all go into heaven bravely and in +triumph, with your heads erect and golden trumpets sounding for +you. But I am sure I shall only be allowed to squeeze myself in +through a little crack in the gate after a great deal of begging. +I am not good always: I have moments only. + +SPINTHO. You're talking nonsense, woman. I tell you, martyrdom +pays all scores. + +ANDROCLES. Well, let us hope so, brother, for your sake. You've +had a gay time, haven't you? with your raids on the temples. I +can't help thinking that heaven will be very dull for a man of +your temperament. (Spintho snarls). Don't be angry: I say it only +to console you in case you should die in your bed tonight in the +natural way. There's a lot of plague about. + +SPINTHO (rising and running about in abject terror) I never +thought of that. O Lord, spare me to be martyred. Oh, what a +thought to put into the mind of a brother! Oh, let me be martyred +today, now. I shall die in the night and go to hell. You're a +sorcerer: you've put death into my mind. Oh, curse you, curse +you! (He tries to seize Androcles by the throat). + +FERROVIUS (holding him in a grip of iron) What's this, brother? +Anger! Violence! Raising your hand to a brother Christian! + +SPINTHO. It's easy for you. You're strong. Your nerves are all +right. But I'm full of disease. (Ferrovius takes his hand from +him with instinctive disgust). I've drunk all my nerves away. I +shall have the horrors all night. + +ANDROCLES (sympathetic) Oh, don't take on so, brother. We're all +sinners. + +SPINTHO (snivelling, trying to feel consoled). Yes: I daresay if +the truth were known, you're all as bad as I am. + +LAVINIA (contemptuously) Does THAT comfort you? + +FERROVIUS (sternly) Pray, man, pray. + +SPINTHO. What's the good of praying? If we're martyred we shall +go to heaven, shan't we, whether we pray or not? + +FERROVIUS. What's that? Not pray! (Seizing him again) Pray this +instant, you dog, you rotten hound, you slimy snake, you beastly +goat, or-- + +SPINTHO. Yes: beat me: kick me. I forgive you: mind that. + +FERROVIUS (spurning him with loathing) Yah! (Spintho reels away +and falls in front of Ferrovius). + +ANDROCLES (reaching out and catching the skirt of Ferrovius's +tunic) Dear brother: if you wouldn't mind--just for my sake-- + +FERROVIUS. Well? + +ANDROCLES. Don't call him by the names of the animals. We've no +right to. I've had such friends in dogs. A pet snake is the best +of company. I was nursed on goat's milk. Is it fair to them to +call the like of him a dog or a snake or a goat? + +FERROVIUS. I only meant that they have no souls. + +ANDROCLES (anxiously protesting) Oh, believe me, they have. Just +the same as you and me. I really don't think I could consent to +go to heaven if I thought there were to be no animals there. +Think of what they suffer here. + +FERROVIUS. That's true. Yes: that is just. They will have their +share in heaven. + +SPINTHO (who has picked himself up and is sneaking past Ferrovius +on his left, sneers derisively)!! + +FERROVIUS (turning on him fiercely) What's that you say? + +SPINTHO (cornering). Nothing. + +FERROVIUS (clenching his fist) Do animals go to heaven or not? + +SPINTHO. I never said they didn't. + +FERROVIUS (implacable) Do they or do they not? + +SPINTHO. They do: they do. (Scrambling out of Ferrovius's reach). +Oh, curse you for frightening me! + +A bugle call is heard. + +CENTURION (waking up) Tention! Form as before. Now then, +prisoners, up with you and trot along spry. (The soldiers fall +in. The Christians rise). + +A man with an ox goad comes running through the central arch. + +THE OX DRIVER. Here, you soldiers! clear out of the way for the +Emperor. + +THE CENTURION. Emperor! Where's the Emperor? You ain't the +Emperor, are you? + +THE OX DRIVER. It's the menagerie service. My team of oxen is +drawing the new lion to the Coliseum. You clear the road. + +CENTURION. What! Go in after you in your dust, with half the town +at the heels of you and your lion! Not likely. We go first. + +THE OX DRIVER. The menagerie service is the Emperor's personal +retinue. You clear out, I tell you. + +CENTURION. You tell me, do you? Well, I'll tell you something. If +the lion is menagerie service, the lion's dinner is menagerie +service too. This (pointing to the Christians) is the lion's +dinner. So back with you to your bullocks double quick; and learn +your place. March. (The soldiers start). Now then, you Christians, +step out there. + +LAVINIA (marching) Come along, the rest of the dinner. I shall be +the olives and anchovies. + +ANOTHER CHRISTIAN (laughing) I shall be the soup. + +ANOTHER. I shall be the fish. + +ANOTHER. Ferrovius shall be the roast boar. + +FERROVIUS (heavily) I see the joke. Yes, yes: I shall be the +roast boar. Ha! ha! (He laughs conscientiously and marches out +with them). + +ANDROCLES. I shall be the mince pie. (Each announcement is +received with a louder laugh by all the rest as the joke catches +on). + +CENTURION (scandalised) Silence! Have some sense of your +situation. Is this the way for martyrs to behave? (To Spintho, +who is quaking and loitering) I know what YOU'LL be at that +dinner. You'll be the emetic. (He shoves him rudely along). + +SPINTHO. It's too dreadful: I'm not fit to die. + +CENTURION. Fitter than you are to live, you swine. + +They pass from the square westward. The oxen, drawing a waggon +with a great wooden cage and the lion in it, arrive through the +central arch. + + + +ACT II + +Behind the Emperor's box at the Coliseum, where the performers +assemble before entering the arena. In the middle a wide passage +leading to the arena descends from the floor level under the +imperial box. On both sides of this passage steps ascend to a +landing at the back entrance to the box. The landing forms a +bridge across the passage. At the entrance to the passage are two +bronze mirrors, one on each side. + +On the west side of this passage, on the right hand of any one +coming from the box and standing on the bridge, the martyrs are +sitting on the steps. Lavinia is seated half-way up, thoughtful, +trying to look death in the face. On her left Androcles consoles +himself by nursing a cat. Ferrovius stands behind them, his eyes +blazing, his figure stiff with intense resolution. At the foot of +the steps crouches Spintho, with his head clutched in his hands, +full of horror at the approach of martyrdom. + +On the east side of the passage the gladiators are standing and +sitting at ease, waiting, like the Christians, for their turn in +the arena. One (Retiarius) is a nearly naked man with a net and a +trident. Another (Secutor) is in armor with a sword. He carries a +helmet with a barred visor. The editor of the gladiators sits on +a chair a little apart from them. + +The Call Boy enters from the passage. + +THE CALL Boy. Number six. Retiarius versus Secutor. + +The gladiator with the net picks it up. The gladiator with the +helmet puts it on; and the two go into the arena, the net thrower +taking out a little brush and arranging his hair as he goes, the +other tightening his straps and shaking his shoulders loose. Both +look at themselves in the mirrors before they enter the passage. + +LAVINIA. Will they really kill one another? + +SPINTHO. Yes, if the people turn down their thumbs. + +THE EDITOR. You know nothing about it. The people indeed! Do you +suppose we would kill a man worth perhaps fifty talents to please +the riffraff? I should like to catch any of my men at it. + +SPINTHO. I thought-- + +THE EDITOR (contemptuously) You thought! Who cares what you +think? YOU'LL be killed all right enough. + +SPINTHO (groans and again hides his face)!!! Then is nobody ever +killed except us poor-- + +LAVINIA. Christians? + +THE EDITOR. If the vestal virgins turn down their thumbs, that's +another matter. They're ladies of rank. + +LAVINIA. Does the Emperor ever interfere? + +THE EDITOR. Oh, yes: he turns his thumbs up fast enough if the +vestal virgins want to have one of his pet fighting men killed. + +ANDROCLES. But don't they ever just only pretend to kill one +another? Why shouldn't you pretend to die, and get dragged out as +if you were dead; and then get up and go home, like an actor? + +THE EDITOR. See here: you want to know too much. There will be no +pretending about the new lion: let that be enough for you. He's +hungry. + +SPINTHO (groaning with horror) Oh, Lord! Can't you stop talking +about it? Isn't it bad enough for us without that? + +ANDROCLES. I'm glad he's hungry. Not that I want him to suffer, +poor chap! but then he'll enjoy eating me so much more. There's a +cheerful side to everything. + +THE EDITOR (rising and striding over to Androcles) Here: don't +you be obstinate. Come with me and drop the pinch of incense on +the altar. That's all you need do to be let off. + +ANDROCLES. No: thank you very much indeed; but I really mustn't. + +THE EDITOR. What! Not to save your life? + +ANDROCLES. I'd rather not. I couldn't sacrifice to Diana: she's a +huntress, you know, and kills things. + +THE EDITOR. That don't matter. You can choose your own altar. +Sacrifice to Jupiter: he likes animals: he turns himself into an +animal when he goes off duty. + +ANDROCLES. No: it's very kind of you; but I feel I can't save +myself that way. + +THE EDITOR. But I don't ask you to do it to save yourself: I ask +you to do it to oblige me personally. + +ANDROCLES (scrambling up in the greatest agitation) Oh, please +don't say that. That is dreadful. You mean so kindly by me that +it seems quite horrible to disoblige you. If you could arrange +for me to sacrifice when there's nobody looking, I shouldn't +mind. But I must go into the arena with the rest. My honor, you +know. + +THE EDITOR. Honor! The honor of a tailor? + +ANDROCLES (apologetically) Well, perhaps honor is too strong an +expression. Still, you know, I couldn't allow the tailors to get +a bad name through me. + +THE EDITOR. How much will you remember of all that when you smell +the beast's breath and see his jaws opening to tear out your +throat? + +SPINTHO (rising with a yell of terror) I can't bear it. Where's +the altar? I'll sacrifice. + +FERROVIUS. Dog of an apostate. Iscariot! + +SPINTHO. I'll repent afterwards. I fully mean to die in the arena +I'll die a martyr and go to heaven; but not this time, not now, +not until my nerves are better. Besides, I'm too young: I want to +have just one more good time. (The gladiators laugh at him). Oh, +will no one tell me where the altar is? (He dashes into the +passage and vanishes). + +ANDROCLES (to the Editor, pointing after Spintho) Brother: I +can't do that, not even to oblige you. Don't ask me. + +THE EDITOR. Well, if you're determined to die, I can't help you. +But I wouldn't be put off by a swine like that. + +FERROVIUS. Peace, peace: tempt him not. Get thee behind him, +Satan. + +THE EDITOR (flushing with rage) For two pins I'd take a turn in +the arena myself to-day, and pay you out for daring to talk to me +like that. + +Ferrovius springs forward. + +LAVINIA (rising quickly and interposing) Brother, brother: you +forget. + +FERROVIUS (curbing himself by a mighty effort) Oh, my temper, my +wicked temper! (To the Editor, as Lavinia sits down again, +reassured). Forgive me, brother. My heart was full of wrath: I +should have been thinking of your dear precious soul. + +THE EDITOR. Yah! (He turns his back on Ferrovius contemptuously, +and goes back to his seat). + +FERROVIUS (continuing) And I forgot it all: I thought of nothing +but offering to fight you with one hand tied behind me. + +THE EDITOR (turning pugnaciously) What! + +FERROVIUS (on the border line between zeal and ferocity) Oh, +don't give way to pride and wrath, brother. I could do it so +easily. I could-- + +They are separated by the Menagerie Keeper, who rushes in from +the passage, furious. + +THE KEEPER. Here's a nice business! Who let that Christian out of +here down to the dens when we were changing the lion into the +cage next the arena? + +THE EDITOR. Nobody let him. He let himself. + +THE KEEPER. Well, the lion's ate him. + +Consternation. The Christians rise, greatly agitated. The +gladiators sit callously, but are highly amused. All speak or cry +out or laugh at once. Tumult. + +LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished. +Praise be to God's justice! ANDROCLES. The poor beast was +starving. It couldn't help itself. THE CHRISTIANS. What! Ate him! +How frightful! How terrible! Without a moment to repent! God be +merciful to him, a sinner! Oh, I can't bear to think of it! In +the midst of his sin! Horrible, horrible! THE EDITOR. Serve the +rotter right! THE GLADIATORS. Just walked into it, he did. He's +martyred all right enough. Good old lion! Old Jock doesn't like +that: look at his face. Devil a better! The Emperor will laugh +when he hears of it. I can't help smiling. Ha ha ha!!!!! + +THE KEEPER. Now his appetite's taken off, he won't as much as +look at another Christian for a week. + +ANDROCLES. Couldn't you have saved him brother? + +THE KEEPER. Saved him! Saved him from a lion that I'd just got +mad with hunger! a wild one that came out of the forest not four +weeks ago! He bolted him before you could say Balbus. + +LAVINIA (sitting down again) Poor Spintho! And it won't even +count as martyrdom! + +THE KEEPER. Serve him right! What call had he to walk down the +throat of one of my lions before he was asked? + +ANDROCLES. Perhaps the lion won't eat me now. + +THE KEEPER. Yes: that's just like a Christian: think only of +yourself! What am I to do? What am I to say to the Emperor when +he sees one of my lions coming into the arena half asleep? + +THE EDITOR. Say nothing. Give your old lion some bitters and a +morsel of fried fish to wake up his appetite. (Laughter). + +THE KEEPER. Yes: it's easy for you to talk; but-- + +THE EDITOR (scrambling to his feet) Sh! Attention there! The +Emperor. (The Keeper bolts precipitately into the passage. The +gladiators rise smartly and form into line). + +The Emperor enters on the Christians' side, conversing with +Metellus, and followed by his suite. + +THE GLADIATORS. Hail, Caesar! those about to die salute thee. + +CAESAR. Good morrow, friends. + +Metellus shakes hands with the Editor, who accepts his +condescension with bluff respect. + +LAVINIA. Blessing, Caesar, and forgiveness! + +CAESAR (turning in some surprise at the salutation) There is no +forgiveness for Christianity. + +LAVINIA. I did not mean that, Caesar. I mean that WE forgive YOU. + +METELLUS. An inconceivable liberty! Do you not know, woman, that +the Emperor can do no wrong and therefore cannot be forgiven? + +LAVINIA. I expect the Emperor knows better. Anyhow, we forgive +him. + +THE CHRISTIANS. Amen! + +CAESAR. Metellus: you see now the disadvantage of too much +severity. These people have no hope; therefore they have nothing +to restrain them from saying what they like to me. They are +almost as impertinent as the gladiators. Which is the Greek +sorcerer? + +ANDROCLES (humbly touching his forelock) Me, your Worship. + +CAESAR. My Worship! Good! A new title. Well, what miracles can +you perform? + +ANDROCLES. I can cure warts by rubbing them with my tailor's +chalk; and I can live with my wife without beating her. + +CAESAR. Is that all? + +ANDROCLES. You don't know her, Caesar, or you wouldn't say that. + +CAESAR. Ah, well, my friend, we shall no doubt contrive a happy +release for you. Which is Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. I am he. + +CAESAR. They tell me you can fight. + +FERROVIUS. It is easy to fight. I can die, Caesar. + +CAESAR. That is still easier, is it not? + +FERROVIUS. Not to me, Caesar. Death comes hard to my flesh; and +fighting comes very easily to my spirit (beating his breast and +lamenting) O sinner that I am! (He throws himself down on the +steps, deeply discouraged). + +CAESAR. Metellus: I should like to have this man in the Pretorian +Guard. + +METELLUS. I should not, Caesar. He looks a spoilsport. There are +men in whose presence it is impossible to have any fun: men who are +a sort of walking conscience. He would make us all uncomfortable. + +CAESAR. For that reason, perhaps, it might be well to have him. +An Emperor can hardly have too many consciences. (To Ferrovius) +Listen, Ferrovius. (Ferrovius shakes his head and will not look +up). You and your friends shall not be outnumbered to-day in the +arena. You shall have arms; and there will be no more than one +gladiator to each Christian. If you come out of the arena alive, +I will consider favorably any request of yours, and give you a +place in the Pretorian Guard. Even if the request be that no +questions be asked about your faith I shall perhaps not refuse +it. + +FERROVIUS. I will not fight. I will die. Better stand with the +archangels than with the Pretorian Guard. + +CAESAR. I cannot believe that the archangels--whoever they may +be--would not prefer to be recruited from the Pretorian Guard. +However, as you please. Come: let us see the show. + +As the Court ascends the steps, Secutor and the Retiarius return +from the arena through the passage; Secutor covered with dust and +very angry: Retiarius grinning. + +SECUTOR. Ha, the Emperor. Now we shall see. Caesar: I ask you +whether it is fair for the Retiarius, instead of making a fair +throw of his net at me, to swish it along the ground and throw +the dust in my eyes, and then catch me when I'm blinded. If the +vestals had not turned up their thumbs I should have been a dead +man. + +CAESAR (halting on the stair) There is nothing in the rules +against it. + +SECUTOR (indignantly) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not? + +CAESAR. It is a dusty one, my friend. (Obsequious laughter). Be +on your guard next time. + +SECUTOR. Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I'll throw my sword +at his heels and strangle him with his own net before he can hop +off. (To Retiarius) You see if I don't. (He goes out past the +gladiators, sulky and furious). + +CAESAR (to the chuckling Retiarius). These tricks are not wise, +my friend. The audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty +and splendor. If you smudge his face and spoil his armor they +will show their displeasure by not letting you kill him. And when +your turn comes, they will remember it against you and turn their +thumbs down. + +THE RETIARIUS. Perhaps that is why I did it, Caesar. He bet me +ten sesterces that he would vanquish me. If I had had to kill +him I should not have had the money. + +CAESAR (indulgent, laughing) You rogues: there is no end to your +tricks. I'll dismiss you all and have elephants to fight. They +fight fairly. (He goes up to his box, and knocks at it. It is +opened from within by the Captain, who stands as on parade to let +him pass). The Call Boy comes from the passage, followed by +three attendants carrying respectively a bundle of swords, some +helmets, and some breastplates and pieces of armor which they +throw down in a heap. + +THE CALL BOY. By your leave, Caesar. Number eleven! Gladiators +and Christians! + +Ferrovius springs up, ready for martyrdom. The other Christians +take the summons as best they can, some joyful and brave, some +patient and dignified, some tearful and helpless, some embracing +one another with emotion. The Call Boy goes back into the +passage. + +CAESAR (turning at the door of the box) The hour has come, +Ferrovius. I shall go into my box and see you killed, since you +scorn the Pretorian Guard. (He goes into the box. The Captain +shuts the door, remaining inside with the Emperor. Metellus and +the rest of the suite disperse to their seats. The Christians, +led by Ferrovius, move towards the passage). + +LAVINIA (to Ferrovius) Farewell. + +THE EDITOR. Steady there. You Christians have got to fight. Here! +arm yourselves. + +FERROVIUS (picking up a sword) I'll die sword in hand to show +people that I could fight if it were my Master's will, and that I +could kill the man who kills me if I chose. + +THE EDITOR. Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS. No armor. + +THE EDITOR (bullying him) Do what you're told. Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS (gripping the sword and looking dangerous) I said, No +armor. + +THE EDITOR. And what am I to say when I am accused of sending a +naked man in to fight my men in armor? + +FERROVIUS. Say your prayers, brother; and have no fear of the +princes of this world. + +THE EDITOR. Tsha! You obstinate fool! (He bites his lips +irresolutely, not knowing exactly what to do). + +ANDROCLES (to Ferrovius) Farewell, brother, till we meet in the +sweet by-and-by. + +THE EDITOR (to Androcles) You are going too. Take a sword there; +and put on any armor you can find to fit you. + +ANDROCLES. No, really: I can't fight: I never could. I can't +bring myself to dislike anyone enough. I'm to be thrown to the +lions with the lady. + +THE EDITOR. Then get out of the way and hold your noise. +(Androcles steps aside with cheerful docility). Now then! Are you +all ready there? + +A trumpet is heard from the arena. + +FERROVIUS (starting convulsively) Heaven give me strength! + +THE EDITOR. Aha! That frightens you, does it? + +FERROVIUS. Man: there is no terror like the terror of that sound +to me. When I hear a trumpet or a drum or the clash of steel or +the hum of the catapult as the great stone flies, fire runs +through my veins: I feel my blood surge up hot behind my eyes: I +must charge: I must strike: I must conquer: Caesar himself will +not be safe in his imperial seat if once that spirit gets loose +in me. Oh, brothers, pray! exhort me! remind me that if I raise +my sword my honor falls and my Master is crucified afresh. + +ANDROCLES. Just keep thinking how cruelly you might hurt the poor +gladiators. + +FERROVIUS. It does not hurt a man to kill him. + +LAVINIA. Nothing but faith can save you. + +FERROVIUS. Faith! Which faith? There are two faiths. There is our +faith. And there is the warrior's faith, the faith in fighting, +the faith that sees God in the sword. How if that faith should +overwhelm me? + +LAVINIA. You will find your real faith in the hour of trial. + +FERROVIUS. That is what I fear. I know that I am a fighter. How +can I feel sure that I am a Christian? + +ANDROCLES. Throw away the sword, brother. + +FERROVIUS. I cannot. It cleaves to my hand. I could as easily +throw a woman I loved from my arms. (Starting) Who spoke that +blasphemy? Not I. + +LAVINIA. I can't help you, friend. I can't tell you not to save +your own life. Something wilful in me wants to see you fight your +way into heaven. + +FERROVIUS. Ha! + +ANDROCLES. But if you are going to give up our faith, brother, +why not do it without hurting anybody? Don't fight them. Burn the +incense. + +FERROVIUS. Burn the incense! Never. + +LAVINIA. That is only pride, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. ONLY pride! What is nobler than pride? (Conscience +stricken) Oh, I'm steeped in sin. I'm proud of my pride. + +LAVINIA. They say we Christians are the proudest devils on +earth--that only the weak are meek. Oh, I am worse than you. I ought +to send you to death; and I am tempting you. + +ANDROCLES. Brother, brother: let THEM rage and kill: let US be +brave and suffer. You must go as a lamb to the slaughter. + +FERROVIUS. Aye, aye: that is right. Not as a lamb is slain by the +butcher; but as a butcher might let himself be slain by a +(looking at the Editor) by a silly ram whose head he could fetch +off in one twist. + +Before the Editor can retort, the Call Boy rushes up through the +passage; and the Captain comes from the Emperor's box and +descends the steps. + +THE CALL BOY. In with you: into the arena. The stage is waiting. + +THE CAPTAIN. The Emperor is waiting. (To the Editor) What are you +dreaming of, man? Send your men in at once. + +THE EDITOR. Yes, Sir: it's these Christians hanging back. + +FERROVIUS (in a voice of thunder) Liar! + +THE EDITOR (not heeding him) March. (The gladiators told off to +fight with the Christians march down the passage) Follow up +there, you. + +THE CHRISTIAN MEN AND WOMEN (as they part) Be steadfast, brother. +Farewell. Hold up the faith, brother. Farewell. Go to glory, +dearest. Farewell. Remember: we are praying for you. Farewell. Be +strong, brother. Farewell. Don't forget that the divine love and +our love surround you. Farewell. Nothing can hurt you: remember +that, brother. Farewell. Eternal glory, dearest. Farewell. + +THE EDITOR (out of patience) Shove them in, there. + +The remaining gladiators and the Call Boy make a movement towards +them. + +FERROVIUS (interposing) Touch them, dogs; and we die here, and +cheat the heathen of their spectacle. (To his fellow Christians) +Brothers: the great moment has come. That passage is your hill to +Calvary. Mount it bravely, but meekly; and remember! not a word +of reproach, not a blow nor a struggle. Go. (They go out through +the passage. He turns to Lavinia) Farewell. + +LAVINIA. You forget: I must follow before you are cold. + +FERROVIUS. It is true. Do not envy me because I pass before you +to glory. (He goes through the passage). + +THE EDITOR (to the Call Boy) Sickening work, this. Why can't they +all be thrown to the lions? It's not a man's job. (He throws +himself moodily into his chair). + +The remaining gladiators go back to their former places +indifferently. The Call Boy shrugs his shoulders and squats down +at the entrance to the passage, near the Editor. + +Lavinia and the Christian women sit down again, wrung with grief, +some weeping silently, some praying, some calm and steadfast. +Androcles sits down at Lavinia's feet. The Captain stands on the +stairs, watching her curiously. + +ANDROCLES. I'm glad I haven't to fight. That would really be an +awful martyrdom. I AM lucky. + +LAVINIA (looking at him with a pang of remorse). Androcles: burn +the incense: you'll be forgiven. Let my death atone for both. I +feel as if I were killing you. + +ANDROCLES. Don't think of me, sister. Think of yourself. That +will keep your heart up. + +The Captain laughs sardonically. + +LAVINIA (startled: she had forgotten his presence) Are you there, +handsome Captain? Have you come to see me die? + +THE CAPTAIN (coming to her side) I am on duty with the Emperor, +Lavinia. + +LAVINIA. Is it part of your duty to laugh at us? + +THE CAPTAIN. No: that is part of my private pleasure. Your friend +here is a humorist. I laughed at his telling you to think of +yourself to keep up your heart. I say, think of yourself and burn +the incense. + +LAVINIA. He is not a humorist: he was right. You ought to know +that, Captain: you have been face to face with death. + +THE CAPTAIN. Not with certain death, Lavinia. Only death in +battle, which spares more men than death in bed. What you are +facing is certain death. You have nothing left now but your faith +in this craze of yours: this Christianity. Are your Christian +fairy stories any truer than our stories about Jupiter and Diana, +in which, I may tell you, I believe no more than the Emperor +does, or any educated man in Rome? + +LAVINIA. Captain: all that seems nothing to me now. I'll not say +that death is a terrible thing; but I will say that it is so real +a thing that when it comes close, all the imaginary things--all +the stories, as you call them--fade into mere dreams beside that +inexorable reality. I know now that I am not dying for stories or +dreams. Did you hear of the dreadful thing that happened here +while we were waiting? + +THE CAPTAIN. I heard that one of your fellows bolted, and ran +right into the jaws of the lion. I laughed. I still laugh. + +LAVINIA. Then you don't understand what that meant? + +THE CAPTAIN. It meant that the lion had a cur for his breakfast. + +LAVINIA. It meant more than that, Captain. It meant that a man +cannot die for a story and a dream. None of us believed the +stories and the dreams more devoutly than poor Spintho; but he +could not face the great reality. What he would have called my +faith has been oozing away minute by minute whilst I've been +sitting here, with death coming nearer and nearer, with reality +becoming realler and realler, with stories and dreams fading away +into nothing. + +THE CAPTAIN. Are you then going to die for nothing? + +LAVINIA. Yes: that is the wonderful thing. It is since all the +stories and dreams have gone that I have now no doubt at all that +I must die for something greater than dreams or stories. + +THE CAPTAIN. But for what? + +LAVINIA. I don't know. If it were for anything small enough to +know, it would be too small to die for. I think I'm going to die +for God. Nothing else is real enough to die for. + +THE CAPTAIN. What is God? + +LAVINIA. When we know that, Captain, we shall be gods ourselves. + +THE CAPTAIN. Lavinia; come down to earth. Burn the incense and +marry me. + +LAVINIA. Handsome Captain: would you marry me if I hauled down +the flag in the day of battle and burnt the incense? Sons take +after their mothers, you know. Do you want your son to be a +coward? + +THE CAPTAIN (strongly moved). By great Diana, I think I would +strangle you if you gave in now. + +LAVINIA (putting her hand on the head of Androcles) The hand of +God is on us three, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. What nonsense it all is! And what a monstrous thing +that you should die for such nonsense, and that I should look on +helplessly when my whole soul cries out against it! Die then if +you must; but at least I can cut the Emperor's throat and then my +own when I see your blood. + +The Emperor throws open the door of his box angrily, and appears +in wrath on the threshold. The Editor, the Call Boy, and the +gladiators spring to their feet. + +THE EMPEROR. The Christians will not fight; and your curs cannot +get their blood up to attack them. It's all that fellow with the +blazing eyes. Send for the whip. (The Call Boy rushes out on the +east side for the whip). If that will not move them, bring the +hot irons. The man is like a mountain. (He returns angrily into +the box and slams the door). + +The Call Boy returns with a man in a hideous Etruscan mask, +carrying a whip. They both rush down the passage into the arena. + +LAVINIA (rising) Oh, that is unworthy. Can they not kill him +without dishonoring him? + +ANDROCLES (scrambling to his feet and running into the middle of +the space between the staircases) It's dreadful. Now I want to +fight. I can't bear the sight of a whip. The only time I ever hit +a man was when he lashed an old horse with a whip. It was +terrible: I danced on his face when he was on the ground. He +mustn't strike Ferrovius: I'll go into the arena and kill him +first. (He makes a wild dash into the passage. As he does so a +great clamor is heard from the arena, ending in wild applause. +The gladiators listen and look inquiringly at one another). + +THE EDITOR. What's up now? + +LAVINIA (to the Captain) What has happened, do you think? + +THE CAPTAIN. What CAN happen? They are killing them, I suppose. + +ANDROCLES (running in through the passage, screaming with horror +and hiding his eyes)!!! + +LAVINIA. Androcles, Androcles: what's the matter? + +ANDROCLES. Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me. Something too +dreadful. Oh! (He crouches by her and hides his face in her robe, +sobbing). + +THE CALL Boy (rushing through from the passage as before) Ropes +and hooks there! Ropes and hooks. + +THE EDITOR. Well, need you excite yourself about it? (Another +burst of applause). + +Two slaves in Etruscan masks, with ropes and drag hooks, hurry +in. + +ONE OF THE SLAVES. How many dead? + +THE CALL Boy. Six. (The slave blows a whistle twice; and four +more masked slaves rush through into the arena with the same +apparatus) And the basket. Bring the baskets. (The slave whistles +three times, and runs through the passage with his companion). + +THE CAPTAIN. Who are the baskets for? + +THE CALL Boy. For the whip. He's in pieces. They're all in +pieces, more or less. (Lavinia hides her face). + +(Two more masked slaves come in with a basket and follow the +others into the arena, as the Call Boy turns to the gladiators +and exclaims, exhausted) Boys, he's killed the lot. + +THE EMPEROR (again bursting from his box, this time in an ecstasy +of delight) Where is he? Magnificent! He shall have a laurel +crown. + +Ferrovius, madly waving his bloodstained sword, rushes through +the passage in despair, followed by his co-religionists, and by +the menagerie keeper, who goes to the gladiators. The gladiators +draw their swords nervously. + +FERROVIUS. Lost! lost forever! I have betrayed my Master. Cut off +this right hand: it has offended. Ye have swords, my brethren: +strike. + +LAVINIA. No, no. What have you done, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. I know not; but there was blood behind my eyes; and +there's blood on my sword. What does that mean? + +THE EMPEROR (enthusiastically, on the landing outside his box) +What does it mean? It means that you are the greatest man in +Rome. It means that you shall have a laurel crown of gold. Superb +fighter, I could almost yield you my throne. It is a record for +my reign: I shall live in history. Once, in Domitian's time, a +Gaul slew three men in the arena and gained his freedom. But when +before has one naked man slain six armed men of the bravest and +best? The persecution shall cease: if Christians can fight like +this, I shall have none but Christians to fight for me. (To the +Gladiators) You are ordered to become Christians, you there: do +you hear? + +RETIARIUS. It is all one to us, Caesar. Had I been there with my +net, the story would have been different. + +THE CAPTAIN (suddenly seizing Lavinia by the wrist and dragging +her up the steps to the Emperor) Caesar this woman is the sister +of Ferrovius. If she is thrown to the lions he will fret. He will +lose weight; get out of condition. + +THE EMPEROR. The lions? Nonsense! (To Lavinia) Madam: I am proud +to have the honor of making your acquaintance. Your brother is +the glory of Rome. + +LAVINIA. But my friends here. Must they die? + +THE EMPEROR. Die! Certainly not. There has never been the +slightest idea of harming them. Ladies and gentlemen: you are all +free. Pray go into the front of the house and enjoy the spectacle +to which your brother has so splendidly contributed. Captain: +oblige me by conducting them to the seats reserved for my +personal friends. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar: I must have one Christian for the +lion. The people have been promised it; and they will tear the +decorations to bits if they are disappointed. + +THE EMPEROR. True, true: we must have somebody for the new lion. + +FERROVIUS. Throw me to him. Let the apostate perish. + +THE EMPEROR. No, no: you would tear him in pieces, my friend; and +we cannot afford to throw away lions as if they were mere slaves. +But we must have somebody. This is really extremely awkward. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Why not that little Greek chap? He's not a +Christian: he's a sorcerer. + +THE EMPEROR. The very thing: he will do very well. + +THE CALL Boy (issuing from the passage) Number twelve. The +Christian for the new lion. + +ANDROCLES (rising, and pulling himself sadly together) Well, it +was to be, after all. + +LAVINIA. I'll go in his place, Caesar. Ask the Captain whether +they do not like best to see a woman torn to pieces. He told me +so yesterday. + +THE EMPEROR. There is something in that: there is certainly +something in that--if only I could feel sure that your brother +would not fret. + +ANDROCLES. No: I should never have another happy hour. No: on the +faith of a Christian and the honor of a tailor, I accept the lot +that has fallen on me. If my wife turns up, give her my love and +say that my wish was that she should be happy with her next, poor +fellow! Caesar: go to your box and see how a tailor can die. Make +way for number twelve there. (He marches out along the passage). + +The vast audience in the amphitheatre now sees the Emperor +re-enter his box and take his place as Androcles, desperately +frightened, but still marching with piteous devotion, emerges +from the other end of the passage, and finds himself at the focus +of thousands of eager eyes. The lion's cage, with a heavy +portcullis grating, is on his left. The Emperor gives a signal. A +gong sounds. Androcles shivers at the sound; then falls on his +knees and prays. + +The grating rises with a clash. The lion bounds into the arena. +He rushes round frisking in his freedom. He sees Androcles. He +stops; rises stiffly by straightening his legs; stretches out his +nose forward and his tail in a horizontal line behind, like a +pointer, and utters an appalling roar. Androcles crouches and +hides his face in his hands. The lion gathers himself for a +spring, swishing his tail to and fro through the dust in an +ecstasy of anticipation. Androcles throws up his hands in +supplication to heaven. The lion checks at the sight of +Androcles's face. He then steals towards him; smells him; arches +his back; purrs like a motor car; finally rubs himself against +Androcles, knocking him over. Androcles, supporting himself on +his wrist, looks affrightedly at the lion. The lion limps on +three paws, holding up the other as if it was wounded. A flash of +recognition lights up the face of Androcles. He flaps his hand as +if it had a thorn in it, and pretends to pull the thorn out and +to hurt himself. The lion nods repeatedly. Androcles holds out +his hands to the lion, who gives him both paws, which he shakes +with enthusiasm. They embrace rapturously, finally waltz round +the arena amid a sudden burst of deafening applause, and out +through the passage, the Emperor watching them in breathless +astonishment until they disappear, when he rushes from his box +and descends the steps in frantic excitement. + +THE EMPEROR. My friends, an incredible! an amazing thing! has +happened. I can no longer doubt the truth of Christianity. (The +Christians press to him joyfully) This Christian sorcerer--(with +a yell, he breaks off as he sees Androcles and the lion emerge +from the passage, waltzing. He bolts wildly up the steps into his +box, and slams the door. All, Christians and gladiators' alike, +fly for their lives, the gladiators bolting into the arena, the +others in all directions. The place is emptied with magical +suddenness). + +ANDROCLES (naively) Now I wonder why they all run away from us +like that. (The lion combining a series of yawns, purrs, and +roars, achieves something very like a laugh). + +THE EMPEROR (standing on a chair inside his box and looking over +the wall) Sorcerer: I command you to put that lion to death +instantly. It is guilty of high treason. Your conduct is most +disgra-- (the lion charges at him up the stairs) help! (He +disappears. The lion rears against the box; looks over the +partition at him, and roars. The Emperor darts out through the +door and down to Androcles, pursued by the lion.) + +ANDROCLES. Don't run away, sir: he can't help springing if you +run. (He seizes the Emperor and gets between him and the lion, +who stops at once). Don't be afraid of him. + +THE EMPEROR. I am NOT afraid of him. (The lion crouches, +growling. The Emperor clutches Androcles) Keep between us. + +ANDROCLES. Never be afraid of animals, your Worship: that's the +great secret. He'll be as gentle as a lamb when he knows that you +are his friend. Stand quite still; and smile; and let him smell +you all over just to reassure him; for, you see, he's afraid of +you; and he must examine you thoroughly before he gives you his +confidence. (To the lion) Come now, Tommy; and speak nicely to +the Emperor, the great, good Emperor who has power to have all +our heads cut off if we don't behave very, VERY respectfully to +him. + +The lion utters a fearful roar. The Emperor dashes madly up the +steps, across the landing, and down again on the other side, with +the lion in hot pursuit. Androcles rushes after the lion; +overtakes him as he is descending; and throws himself on his +back, trying to use his toes as a brake. Before he can stop him +the lion gets hold of the trailing end of the Emperor's robe. + +ANDROCLES. Oh bad wicked Tommy, to chase the Emperor like that! +Let go the Emperor's robe at once, sir: where's your manners? +(The lion growls and worries the robe). Don't pull it away from +him, your worship. He's only playing. Now I shall be really angry +with you, Tommy, if you don't let go. (The lion growls again) +I'll tell you what it is, sir: he thinks you and I are not +friends. + +THE EMPEROR (trying to undo the clasp of his brooch) Friends! You +infernal scoundrel (the lion growls) don't let him go. Curse this +brooch! I can't get it loose. + +ANDROCLES. We mustn't let him lash himself into a rage. You must +show him that you are my particular friend--if you will have the +condescension. (He seizes the Emperor's hands, and shakes them +cordially), Look, Tommy: the nice Emperor is the dearest friend +Andy Wandy has in the whole world: he loves him like a brother. + +THE EMPEROR. You little brute, you damned filthy little dog of a +Greek tailor: I'll have you burnt alive for daring to touch the +divine person of the Emperor. (The lion roars). + +ANDROCLES. Oh don't talk like that, sir. He understands every +word you say: all animals do: they take it from the tone of your +voice. (The lion growls and lashes his tail). I think he's going +to spring at your worship. If you wouldn't mind saying something +affectionate. (The lion roars). + +THE EMPEROR (shaking Androcles' hands frantically) My dearest Mr. +Androcles, my sweetest friend, my long lost brother, come to my +arms. (He embraces Androcles). Oh, what an abominable smell of +garlic! + +The lion lets go the robe and rolls over on his back, clasping +his forepaws over one another coquettishly above his nose. + +ANDROCLES. There! You see, your worship, a child might play with +him now. See! (He tickles the lion's belly. The lion wriggles +ecstatically). Come and pet him. + +THE EMPEROR. I must conquer these unkingly terrors. Mind you +don't go away from him, though. (He pats the lion's chest). + +ANDROCLES. Oh, sir, how few men would have the courage to do +that-- + +THE EMPEROR. Yes: it takes a bit of nerve. Let us invite the +Court in and frighten them. Is he safe, do you think? + +ANDROCLES. Quite safe now, sir. + +THE EMPEROR (majestically) What ho, there! All who are within +hearing, return without fear. Caesar has tamed the lion. (All the +fugitives steal cautiously in. The menagerie keeper comes from +the passage with other keepers armed with iron bars and +tridents). Take those things away. I have subdued the beast. (He +places his foot on it). + +FERROVIUS (timidly approaching the Emperor and looking down with +awe on the lion) It is strange that I, who fear no man, should +fear a lion. + +THE CAPTAIN. Every man fears something, Ferrovius. + +THE EMPEROR. How about the Pretorian Guard now? + +FERROVIUS. In my youth I worshipped Mars, the God of War. I +turned from him to serve the Christian god; but today the +Christian god forsook me; and Mars overcame me and took back his +own. The Christian god is not yet. He will come when Mars and I +are dust; but meanwhile I must serve the gods that are, not the +God that will be. Until then I accept service in the Guard, +Caesar. + +THE EMPEROR. Very wisely said. All really sensible men agree that +the prudent course is to be neither bigoted in our attachment to +the old nor rash and unpractical in keeping an open mind for the +new, but to make the best of both dispensations. + +THE CAPTAIN. What do you say, Lavinia? Will you too be prudent? + +LAVINIA (on the stair) No: I'll strive for the coming of the God +who is not yet. + +THE CAPTAIN. May I come and argue with you occasionally? + +LAVINIA. Yes, handsome Captain: you may. (He kisses her hands). + +THE EMPEROR. And now, my friends, though I do not, as you see, +fear this lion, yet the strain of his presence is considerable; +for none of us can feel quite sure what he will do next. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar: give us this Greek sorcerer to be a +slave in the menagerie. He has a way with the beasts. + +ANDROCLES (distressed). Not if they are in cages. They should not +be kept in cages. They must all be let out. + +THE EMPEROR. I give this sorcerer to be a slave to the first man +who lays hands on him. (The menagerie keepers and the gladiators +rush for Androcles. The lion starts up and faces them. They surge +back). You see how magnanimous we Romans are, Androcles. We +suffer you to go in peace. + +ANDROCLES. I thank your worship. I thank you all, ladies and +gentlemen. Come, Tommy. Whilst we stand together, no cage for +you: no slavery for me. (He goes out with the lion, everybody +crowding away to give him as wide a berth as possible). + + + +In this play I have represented one of the Roman persecutions of +the early Christians, not as the conflict of a false theology +with a true, but as what all such persecutions essentially are: +an attempt to suppress a propaganda that seemed to threaten the +interests involved in the established law and order, organized +and maintained in the name of religion and justice by politicians +who are pure opportunist Have-and-Holders. People who are shown +by their inner light the possibility of a better world based on +the demand of the spirit for a nobler and more abundant life, not +for themselves at the expense of others, but for everybody, are +naturally dreaded and therefore hated by the Have-and-Holders, +who keep always in reserve two sure weapons against them. The +first is a persecution effected by the provocation, organization, +and arming of that herd instinct which makes men abhor all +departures from custom, and, by the most cruel punishments and +the wildest calumnies, force eccentric people to behave and +profess exactly as other people do. The second is by leading the +herd to war, which immediately and infallibly makes them forget +everything, even their most cherished and hardwon public +liberties and private interests, in the irresistible surge of +their pugnacity and the tense pre-occupation of their terror. + +There is no reason to believe that there was anything more in the +Roman persecutions than this. The attitude of the Roman Emperor +and the officers of his staff towards the opinions at issue were +much the same as those of a modern British Home Secretary towards +members of the lower middle classes when some pious policeman +charges them with Bad Taste, technically called blasphemy: Bad +Taste being a violation of Good Taste, which in such matters +practically means Hypocrisy. The Home Secretary and the judges +who try the case are usually far more sceptical and blasphemous +than the poor men whom they persecute; and their professions of +horror at the blunt utterance of their own opinions are revolting +to those behind the scenes who have any genuine religious +sensibility; but the thing is done because the governing classes, +provided only the law against blasphemy is not applied to +themselves, strongly approve of such persecution because it +enables them to represent their own privileges as part of the +religion of the country. + +Therefore my martyrs are the martyrs of all time, and my +persecutors the persecutors of all time. My Emperor, who has no +sense of the value of common people's lives, and amuses himself +with killing as carelessly as with sparing, is the sort of +monster you can make of any silly-clever gentleman by idolizing +him. We are still so easily imposed on by such idols that one of +the leading pastors of the Free Churches in London denounced my +play on the ground that my persecuting Emperor is a very fine +fellow, and the persecuted Christians ridiculous. From which I +conclude that a popular pulpit may be as perilous to a man's soul +as an imperial throne. + +All my articulate Christians, the reader will notice, have +different enthusiasms, which they accept as the same religion +only because it involves them in a common opposition to the +official religion and consequently in a common doom. Androcles is +a humanitarian naturalist, whose views surprise everybody. +Lavinia, a clever and fearless freethinker, shocks the Pauline +Ferrovius, who is comparatively stupid and conscience ridden. +Spintho, the blackguardly debauchee, is presented as one of the +typical Christians of that period on the authority of St. +Augustine, who seems to have come to the conclusion at one period +of his development that most Christians were what we call wrong +uns. No doubt he was to some extent right: I have had occasion +often to point out that revolutionary movements attract those who +are not good enough for established institutions as well as those +who are too good for them. + +But the most striking aspect of the play at this moment is the +terrible topicality given it by the war. We were at peace when I +pointed out, by the mouth of Ferrovius, the path of an honest man +who finds out, when the trumpet sounds, that he cannot follow +Jesus. Many years earlier, in The Devil's Disciple, I touched the +same theme even more definitely, and showed the minister throwing +off his black coat for ever when he discovered, amid the thunder +of the captains and the shouting, that he was a born fighter. +Great numbers of our clergy have found themselves of late in the +position of Ferrovius and Anthony Anderson. They have discovered +that they hate not only their enemies but everyone who does not +share their hatred, and that they want to fight and to force +other people to fight. They have turned their churches into +recruiting stations and their vestries into munition workshops. +But it has never occurred to them to take off their black coats +and say quite simply, "I find in the hour of trial that the +Sermon on the Mount is tosh, and that I am not a Christian. I +apologize for all the unpatriotic nonsense I have been preaching +all these years. Have the goodness to give me a revolver and a +commission in a regiment which has for its chaplain a priest of +the god Mars: my God." Not a bit of it. They have stuck to their +livings and served Mars in the name of Christ, to the scandal of +all religious mankind. When the Archbishop of York behaved like a +gentleman and the Head Master of Eton preached a Christian +sermon, and were reviled by the rabble, the Martian parsons +encouraged the rabble. For this they made no apologies or +excuses, good or bad. They simple indulged their passions, just +as they had always indulged their class prejudices and commercial +interests, without troubling themselves for a moment as to +whether they were Christians or not. They did not protest even +when a body calling itself the Anti-German League (not having +noticed, apparently, that it had been anticipated by the British +Empire, the French Republic, and the Kingdoms of Italy, Japan, +and Serbia) actually succeeded in closing a church at Forest Hill +in which God was worshipped in the German language. One would +have supposed that this grotesque outrage on the commonest +decencies of religion would have provoked a remonstrance from +even the worldliest bench of bishops. But no: apparently it +seemed to the bishops as natural that the House of God should be +looted when He allowed German to be spoken in it as that a +baker's shop with a German name over the door should be pillaged. +Their verdict was, in effect, "Serve God right, for creating the +Germans!" The incident would have been impossible in a country +where the Church was as powerful as the Church of England, had it +had at the same time a spark of catholic as distinguished from +tribal religion in it. As it is, the thing occurred; and as far +as I have observed, the only people who gasped were the +Freethinkers. Thus we see that even among men who make a +profession of religion the great majority are as Martian as the +majority of their congregations. The average clergyman is an +official who makes his living by christening babies, marrying +adults, conducting a ritual, and making the best he can (when he +has any conscience about it) of a certain routine of school +superintendence, district visiting, and organization of +almsgiving, which does not necessarily touch Christianity at any +point except the point of the tongue. The exceptional or +religious clergyman may be an ardent Pauline salvationist, in +which case his more cultivated parishioners dislike him, and say +that he ought to have joined the Methodists. Or he may be an +artist expressing religious emotion without intellectual +definition by means of poetry, music, vestments and architecture, +also producing religious ecstacy by physical expedients, such as +fasts and vigils, in which case he is denounced as a Ritualist. +Or he may be either a Unitarian Deist like Voltaire or Tom Paine, +or the more modern sort of Anglican Theosophist to whom the Holy +Ghost is the Elan Vital of Bergson, and the Father and Son are an +expression of the fact that our functions and aspects are +manifold, and that we are all sons and all either potential or +actual parents, in which case he is strongly suspected by the +straiter Salvationists of being little better than an Atheist. +All these varieties, you see, excite remark. They may be very +popular with their congregations; but they are regarded by the +average man as the freaks of the Church. The Church, like the +society of which it is an organ, is balanced and steadied by the +great central Philistine mass above whom theology looms as a +highly spoken of and doubtless most important thing, like Greek +Tragedy, or classical music, or the higher mathematics, but who +are very glad when church is over and they can go home to lunch +or dinner, having in fact, for all practical purposes, no +reasoned convictions at all, and being equally ready to persecute +a poor Freethinker for saying that St. James was not infallible, +and to send one of the Peculiar People to prison for being so +very peculiar as to take St. James seriously. + +In short, a Christian martyr was thrown to the lions not because +he was a Christian, but because he was a crank: that is, an +unusual sort of person. And multitudes of people, quite as +civilized and amiable as we, crowded to see the lions eat him +just as they now crowd the lion-house in the Zoo at feeding-time, +not because they really cared two-pence about Diana or Christ, or +could have given you any intelligent or correct account of the +things Diana and Christ stood against one another for, but simply +because they wanted to see a curious and exciting spectacle. You, +dear reader, have probably run to see a fire; and if somebody +came in now and told you that a lion was chasing a man down the +street you would rush to the window. And if anyone were to say +that you were as cruel as the people who let the lion loose on +the man, you would be justly indignant. Now that we may no longer +see a man hanged, we assemble outside the jail to see the black +flag run up. That is our duller method of enjoying ourselves in +the old Roman spirit. And if the Government decided to throw +persons of unpopular or eccentric views to the lions in the +Albert Hall or the Earl's Court stadium tomorrow, can you doubt +that all the seats would be crammed, mostly by people who could +not give you the most superficial account of the views in question. +Much less unlikely things have happened. It is true that if such a +revival does take place soon, the martyrs will not be members of +heretical religious sects: they will be Peculiars, Anti-Vivisectionists, +Flat-Earth men, scoffers at the laboratories, or infidels who refuse +to kneel down when a procession of doctors goes by. But the lions +will hurt them just as much, and the spectators will enjoy themselves +just as much, as the Roman lions and spectators used to do. + +It was currently reported in the Berlin newspapers that when +Androcles was first performed in Berlin, the Crown Prince rose +and left the house, unable to endure the (I hope) very clear and +fair exposition of autocratic Imperialism given by the Roman +captain to his Christian prisoners. No English Imperialist was +intelligent and earnest enough to do the same in London. If the +report is correct, I confirm the logic of the Crown Prince, and +am glad to find myself so well understood. But I can assure him +that the Empire which served for my model when I wrote Androcles +was, as he is now finding to his cost, much nearer my home than +the German one. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Androcles and the Lion, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROCLES AND THE LION *** + +***** This file should be named 4003.txt or 4003.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/0/4003/ + +Produced by Eve Sobol. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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He limps painfully off the path +and lies down under the trees, exhausted with pain. Heaving a +long sigh, like wind in a trombone, he goes to sleep. + +Androcles and his wife Megaera come along the path. He is a +small, thin, ridiculous little man who might be any age from +thirty to fifty-five. He has sandy hair, watery compassionate +blue eyes, sensitive nostrils, and a very presentable forehead; +but his good points go no further; his arms and legs and back, +though wiry of their kind, look shrivelled and starved. He +carries a big bundle, is very poorly clad, and seems tired and +hungry. + +His wife is a rather handsome pampered slattern, well fed and in +the prime of life. She has nothing to carry, and has a stout +stick to help her along. + +MEGAERA (suddenly throwing down her stick) I won't go another +step. + +ANDROCLES (pleading wearily) Oh, not again, dear. What's the good +of stopping every two miles and saying you won't go another step? +We must get on to the next village before night. There are wild +beasts in this wood: lions, they say. + +MEGAERA. I don't believe a word of it. You are always threatening +me with wild beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body +when I can hardly drag one foot before another. We haven't seen a +single lion yet. + +ANDROCLES. Well, dear, do you want to see one? + +MEGAERA (tearing the bundle from his back) You cruel beast, you +don't care how tired I am, or what becomes of me (she throws the +bundle on the ground): always thinking of yourself. Self! self! +self! always yourself! (She sits down on the bundle). + +ANDROCLES (sitting down sadly on the ground with his elbows on +his knees and his head in his hands) We all have to think of +ourselves occasionally, dear. + +MEGAERA. A man ought to think of his wife sometimes. + +ANDROCLES. He can't always help it, dear. You make me think of +you a good deal. Not that I blame you. + +MEGAERA. Blame me! I should think not indeed. Is it my fault that +I'm married to you? + +ANDROCLES. No, dear: that is my fault. + +MEGAERA. That's a nice thing to say to me. Aren't you happy with +me? + +ANDROCLES. I don't complain, my love. + +MEGAERA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. + +ANDROCLES. I am, my dear. + +MEGAERA. You're not: you glory in it. + +ANDROCLES. In what, darling? + +MEGAERA. In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself +a laughing-stock. Its not fair. You get me the name of being a +shrew with your meek ways, always talking as if butter wouldn't +melt in your mouth. And just because I look a big strong woman, +and because I'm good-hearted and a bit hasty, and because you're +always driving me to do things I'm sorry for afterwards, people +say "Poor man: what a life his wife leads him!" Oh, if they only +knew! And you think I don't know. But I do, I do, (screaming) I +do. + +ANDROCLES. Yes, my dear: I know you do. + +MEGAERA. Then why don't you treat me properly and be a good +husband to me? + +ANDROCLES. What can I do, my dear? + +MEGAERA. What can you do! You can return to your duty, and come +back to your home and your friends, and sacrifice to the gods as +all respectable people do, instead of having us hunted out of +house and home for being dirty, disreputable, blaspheming +atheists. + +ANDROCLES. I'm not an atheist, dear: I am a Christian. + +MEGAERA. Well, isn't that the same thing, only ten times worse? +Everybody knows that the Christians are the very lowest of the +low. + +ANDROCLES. Just like us, dear. + +MEGAERA. Speak for yourself. Don't you dare to compare me to +common people. My father owned his own public-house; and +sorrowful was the day for me when you first came drinking in our +bar. + +ANDROCLES. I confess I was addicted to it, dear. But I gave it +up when I became a Christian. + +MEGAERA. You'd much better have remained a drunkard. I can +forgive a man being addicted to drink: its only natural; and I +don't deny I like a drop myself sometimes. What I can't stand is +your being addicted to Christianity. And what's worse again, your +being addicted to animals. How is any woman to keep her house +clean when you bring in every stray cat and lost cur and lame +duck in the whole countryside? You took the bread out of my mouth +to feed them: you know you did: don't attempt to deny it. + +ANDROCLES. Only when they were hungry and you were getting too +stout, dearie. + +MEGAERA. Yes, insult me, do. (Rising) Oh! I won't bear it another +moment. You used to sit and talk to those dumb brute beasts for +hours, when you hadn't a word for me. + +ANDROCLES. They never answered back, darling. (He rises and again +shoulders the bundle). + +MEGAERA. Well, if you're fonder of animals than of your own wife, +you can live with them here in the jungle. I've had enough of +them and enough of you. I'm going back. I'm going home. + +ANDROCLES (barring the way back) No, dearie: don't take on like +that. We can't go back. We've sold everything: we should starve; +and I should be sent to Rome and thrown to the lions-- + +MEGAERA. Serve you right! I wish the lions joy of you. +(Screaming) Are you going to get out of my way and let me go +home? + +ANDROCLES. No, dear-- + +MEGAERA. Then I'll make my way through the forest; and when I'm +eaten by the wild beasts you'll know what a wife you've lost. +(She dashes into the jungle and nearly falls over the sleeping +lion). Oh! Oh! Andy! Andy! (She totters back and collapses into +the arms of Androcles, who, crushed by her weight, falls on his +bundle). + +ANDROCLES (extracting himself from beneath her and slapping her +hands in great anxiety) What is it, my precious, my pet? What's +the matter? (He raises her head. Speechless with terror, she +points in the direction of the sleeping lion. He steals +cautiously towards the spot indicated by Megaera. She rises with +an effort and totters after him). + +MEGAERA. No, Andy: you'll be killed. Come back. + +The lion utters a long snoring sigh. Androcles sees the lion and +recoils fainting into the arms of Megaera, who falls back on the +bundle. They roll apart and lie staring in terror at one another. +The lion is heard groaning heavily in the jungle. + +ANDROCLES (whispering) Did you see? A lion. + +MEGAERA (despairing) The gods have sent him to punish us because +you're a Christian. Take me away, Andy. Save me. + +ANDROCLES (rising) Meggy: there's one chance for you. It'll take +him pretty nigh twenty minutes to eat me (I'm rather stringy and +tough) and you can escape in less time than that. + +MEGAERA. Oh, don't talk about eating. (The lion rises with a +great groan and limps towards them). Oh! (She faints). + +ANDROCLES (quaking, but keeping between the lion and Megaera) +Don't you come near my wife, do you hear? (The lion groans. +Androcles can hardly stand for trembling). Meggy: run. Run for +your life. If I take my eye off him, its all up. (The lion holds +up his wounded paw and flaps it piteously before Androcles). Oh, +he's lame, poor old chap! He's got a thorn in his paw. A +frightfully big thorn. (Full of sympathy) Oh, poor old man! Did +um get an awful thorn into um's tootsums wootsums? Has it made um +too sick to eat a nice little Christian man for um's breakfast? +Oh, a nice little Christian man will get um's thorn out for um; +and then um shall eat the nice Christian man and the nice +Christian man's nice big tender wifey pifey. (The lion responds +by moans of self-pity). Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Now, now (taking +the paw in his hand) um is not to bite and not to scratch, not +even if it hurts a very, very little. Now make velvet paws. +That's right. (He pulls gingerly at the thorn. The lion, with an +angry yell of pain, jerks back his paw so abruptly that Androcles +is thrown on his back). Steadeee! Oh, did the nasty cruel little +Christian man hurt the sore paw? (The lion moans assentingly but +apologetically). Well, one more little pull and it will be all +over. Just one little, little, leetle pull; and then um will live +happily ever after. (He gives the thorn another pull. The lion +roars and snaps his jaws with a terrifying clash). Oh, mustn't +frighten um's good kind doctor, um's affectionate nursey. That +didn't hurt at all: not a bit. Just one more. Just to show how +the brave big lion can bear pain, not like the little crybaby +Christian man. Oopsh! (The thorn comes out. The lion yells with +pain, and shakes his paw wildly). That's it! (Holding up the +thorn). Now it's out. Now lick um's paw to take away the nasty +inflammation. See? (He licks his own hand. The lion nods +intelligently and licks his paw industriously). Clever little +liony-piony! Understands um's dear old friend Andy Wandy. (The +lion licks his face). Yes, kissums Andy Wandy. (The lion, +wagging his tail violently, rises on his hind legs and embraces +Androcles, who makes a wry face and cries) Velvet paws! Velvet +paws! (The lion draws in his claws). That's right. (He embraces +the lion, who finally takes the end of his tail in one paw, +places that tight around Androcles' waist, resting it on his hip. +Androcles takes the other paw in his hand, stretches out his arm, +and the two waltz rapturously round and round and finally away +through the jungle). + +MEGAERA (who has revived during the waltz) Oh, you coward, you +haven't danced with me for years; and now you go off dancing with +a great brute beast that you haven't known for ten minutes and +that wants to eat your own wife. Coward! Coward! Coward! (She +rushes off after them into the jungle). + + + +ACT I + +Evening. The end of three converging roads to Rome. Three +triumphal arches span them where they debouch on a square at the +gate of the city. Looking north through the arches one can see +the campagna threaded by the three long dusty tracks. On the east +and west sides of the square are long stone benches. An old +beggar sits on the east side of the square, his bowl at his feet. +Through the eastern arch a squad of Roman soldiers tramps along +escorting a batch of Christian prisoners of both sexes and all +ages, among them one Lavinia, a goodlooking resolute young woman, +apparently of higher social standing than her fellow-prisoners. A +centurion, carrying his vinewood cudgel, trudges alongside the +squad, on its right, in command of it. All are tired and dusty; +but the soldiers are dogged and indifferent, the Christians +light-hearted and determined to treat their hardships as a joke +and encourage one another. + +A bugle is heard far behind on the road, where the rest of the +cohort is following. + +CENTURION (stopping) Halt! Orders from the Captain. (They halt +and wait). Now then, you Christians, none of your larks. The +captain's coming. Mind you behave yourselves. No singing. Look +respectful. Look serious, if you're capable of it. See that big +building over there? That's the Coliseum. That's where you'll be +thrown to the lions or set to fight the gladiators presently. +Think of that; and it'll help you to behave properly before the +captain. (The Captain arrives). Attention! Salute! (The soldiers +salute). + +A CHRISTIAN (cheerfully) God bless you, Captain. + +THE CENTURION (scandalised) Silence! + +The Captain, a patrician, handsome, about thirty-five, very cold +and distinguished, very superior and authoritative, steps up on a +stone seat at the west side of the square, behind the centurion, +so as to dominate the others more effectually. + +THE CAPTAIN. Centurion. + +THE CENTURION. (standing at attention and saluting) Sir? + +THE CAPTAIN (speaking stiffly and officially) You will remind +your men, Centurion, that we are now entering Rome. You will +instruct them that once inside the gates of Rome they are in the +presence of the Emperor. You will make them understand that the +lax discipline of the march cannot be permitted here. You will +instruct them to shave every day, not every week. You will +impress on them particularly that there must be an end to the +profanity and blasphemy of singing Christian hymns on the march. +I have to reprimand you, Centurion, for not only allowing this, +but actually doing it yourself. + +THE CENTURION. The men march better, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. No doubt. For that reason an exception is made in +the case of the march called Onward Christian Soldiers. This may +be sung, except when marching through the forum or within hearing +of the Emperor's palace; but the words must be altered to "Throw +them to the Lions." + +The Christians burst into shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, to +the great scandal of the Centurion. + +CENTURION. Silence! Silen-n-n-n-nce! Where's your behavior? Is +that the way to listen to an officer? (To the Captain) That's +what we have to put up with from these Christians every day, sir. +They're always laughing and joking something scandalous. They've +no religion: that's how it is. + +LAVINIA. But I think the Captain meant us to laugh, Centurion. It +was so funny. + +CENTURION. You'll find out how funny it is when you're thrown to +the lions to-morrow. (To the Captain, who looks displeased) Beg +pardon, Sir. (To the Christians) Silennnnce! + +THE CAPTAIN. You are to instruct your men that all intimacy with +Christian prisoners must now cease. The men have fallen into +habits of dependence upon the prisoners, especially the female +prisoners, for cooking, repairs to uniforms, writing letters, and +advice in their private affairs. In a Roman soldier such +dependence is inadmissible. Let me see no more of it whilst we +are in the city. Further, your orders are that in addressing +Christian prisoners, the manners and tone of your men must +express abhorrence and contempt. Any shortcoming in this respect +will be regarded as a breach of discipline.(He turns to the +prisoners) Prisoners. + +CENTURION (fiercely) Prisonerrrrrs! Tention! Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. I call your attention, prisoners, to the fact that +you may be called on to appear in the Imperial Circus at any time +from tomorrow onwards according to the requirements of the +managers. I may inform you that as there is a shortage of +Christians just now, you may expect to be called on very soon. + +LAVINIA. What will they do to us, Captain? + +CENTURION. Silence! + +THE CAPTAIN. The women will be conducted into the arena with the +wild beasts of the Imperial Menagerie, and will suffer the +consequences. The men, if of an age to bear arms, will be given +weapons to defend themselves, if they choose, against the +Imperial Gladiators. + +LAVINIA. Captain: is there no hope that this cruel persecution-- + +CENTURION (shocked) Silence! Hold your tongue, there. +Persecution, indeed! + +THE CAPTAIN (unmoved and somewhat sardonic) Persecution is not a +term applicable to the acts of the Emperor. The Emperor is the +Defender of the Faith. In throwing you to the lions he will be +upholding the interests of religion in Rome. If you were to throw +him to the lions, that would no doubt be persecution. + +The Christians again laugh heartily. + +CENTURION (horrified) Silence, I tell you! Keep silence there. +Did anyone ever hear the like of this? + +LAVINIA. Captain: there will be nobody to appreciate your jokes +when we are gone. + +THE CAPTAIN (unshaken in his official delivery) I call the +attention of the female prisoner Lavinia to the fact that as the +Emperor is a divine personage, her imputation of cruelty is not +only treason, but sacrilege. I point out to her further that +there is no foundation for the charge, as the Emperor does not +desire that any prisoner should suffer; nor can any Christian be +harmed save through his or her own obstinacy. All that is +necessary is to sacrifice to the gods: a simple and convenient +ceremony effected by dropping a pinch of incense on the altar, +after which the prisoner is at once set free. Under such +circumstances you have only your own perverse folly to blame if +you suffer. I suggest to you that if you cannot burn a morsel of +incense as a matter of conviction, you might at least do so as a +matter of good taste, to avoid shocking the religious convictions +of your fellow citizens. I am aware that these considerations do +not weigh with Christians; but it is my duty to call your +attention to them in order that you may have no ground for +complaining of your treatment, or of accusing the Emperor of +cruelty when he is showing you the most signal clemency. +Looked at from this point of view, every Christian who has +perished in the arena has really committed suicide. + +LAVINIA. Captain: your jokes are too grim. Do not think it is +easy for us to die. Our faith makes life far stronger and more +wonderful in us than when we walked in darkness and had nothing +to live for. Death is harder for us than for you: the martyr's +agony is as bitter as his triumph is glorious. + +THE CAPTAIN (rather troubled, addressing her personally and +gravely) A martyr, Lavinia, is a fool. Your death will prove +nothing. + +LAVINIA. Then why kill me? + +THE CAPTAIN. I mean that truth, if there be any truth, needs no +martyrs. + +LAVINIA. No; but my faith, like your sword, needs testing. Can +you test your sword except by staking your life on it? + +THE CAPTAIN (suddenly resuming his official tone) I call the +attention of the female prisoner to the fact that Christians are +not allowed to draw the Emperor's officers into arguments and put +questions to them for which the military regulations provide no +answer. (The Christians titter). + +LAVINIA. Captain: how CAN you? + +THE CAPTAIN. I call the female prisoner's attention specially to +the fact that four comfortable homes have been offered her by +officers of this regiment, of which she can have her choice the +moment she chooses to sacrifice as all well-bred Roman ladies do. +I have no more to say to the prisoners. + +CENTURION. Dismiss! But stay where you are. + +THE CAPTAIN. Centurion: you will remain here with your men in +charge of the prisoners until the arrival of three Christian +prisoners in the custody of a cohort of the tenth legion. Among +these prisoners you will particularly identify an armorer named +Ferrovius, of dangerous character and great personal strength, +and a Greek tailor reputed to be a sorcerer, by name Androcles. +You will add the three to your charge here and march them all to +the Coliseum, where you will deliver them into the custody of the +master of the gladiators and take his receipt, countersigned by +the keeper of the beasts and the acting manager. You understand +your instructions? + +CENTURION. Yes, Sir. + +THE CAPTAIN. Dismiss. (He throws off his air of parade, and +descends down from the perch. The Centurion seats on it and +prepares for a nap, whilst his men stand at ease. The Christians +sit down on the west side of the square, glad to rest. Lavinia +alone remains standing to speak to the Captain). + +LAVINIA. Captain: is this man who is to join us the famous +Ferrovius, who has made such wonderful conversions in the +northern cities? + +THE CAPTAIN. Yes. We are warned that he has the strength of an +elephant and the temper of a mad bull. Also that he is stark mad. +Not a model Christian, it would seem. + +LAVINIA. You need not fear him if he is a Christian, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN (coldly) I shall not fear him in any case, Lavinia. + +LAVINIA (her eyes dancing) How brave of you, Captain! + +THE CAPTAIN. You are right: it was silly thing to say. (In a +lower tone, humane and urgent) Lavinia: do Christians know how to +love? + +LAVINIA (composedly) Yes, Captain: they love even their enemies. + +THE CAPTAIN. Is that easy? + +LAVINIA. Very easy, Captain, when their enemies are as handsome +as you. + +THE CAPTAIN. Lavinia: you are laughing at me. + +LAVINIA. At you, Captain! Impossible. + +THE CAPTAIN. Then you are flirting with me, which is worse. Don't +be foolish. + +LAVINIA. But such a very handsome captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. Incorrigible! (Urgently) Listen to me. The men in +that audience tomorrow will be the vilest of voluptuaries: men in +whom the only passion excited by a beautiful woman is a lust to +see her tortured and torn shrieking limb from limb. It is a crime +to dignify that passion. It is offering yourself for violation by +the whole rabble of the streets and the riff-raff of the court at +the same time. Why will you not choose rather a kindly love and +an honorable alliance? + +LAVINIA. They cannot violate my soul. I alone can do that by +sacrificing to false gods. + +THE CAPTAIN. Sacrifice then to the true God. What does his name +matter? We call him Jupiter. The Greeks call him Zeus. Call him +what you will as you drop the incense on the altar flame: He will +understand. + +LAVINIA. No. I couldn't. That is the strange thing, Captain, that +a little pinch of incense should make all that difference. +Religion is such a great thing that when I meet really religious +people we are friends at once, no matter what name we give to the +divine will that made us and moves us. Oh, do you think that I, a +woman, would quarrel with you for sacrificing to a woman god like +Diana, if Diana meant to you what Christ means to me? No: we +should kneel side by side before her altar like two children. But +when men who believe neither in my god nor in their own--men who +do not know the meaning of the word religion--when these men drag +me to the foot of an iron statue that has become the symbol of +the terror and darkness through which they walk, of their cruelty +and greed, of their hatred of God and their oppression of man-- +when they ask me to pledge my soul before the people that this +hideous idol is God, and that all this wickedness and falsehood +is divine truth, I cannot do it, not if they could put a thousand +cruel deaths on me. I tell you, it is physically impossible. +Listen, Captain: did you ever try to catch a mouse in your hand? +Once there was a dear little mouse that used to come out and play +on my table as I was reading. I wanted to take him in my hand and +caress him; and sometimes he got among my books so that he could +not escape me when I stretched out my hand. And I did stretch out +my hand; but it always came back in spite of me. I was not afraid +of him in my heart; but my hand refused: it is not in the nature +of my hand to touch a mouse. Well, Captain, if I took a pinch of +incense in my hand and stretched it out over the altar fire, my +hand would come back. My body would be true to my faith even if +you could corrupt my mind. And all the time I should believe more +in Diana than my persecutors have ever believed in anything. Can +you understand that? + +THE CAPTAIN (simply) Yes: I understand that. But my hand would +not come back. The hand that holds the sword has been trained not +to come back from anything but victory. + +LAVINIA. Not even from death? + +THE CAPTAIN. Least of all from death. + +LAVINIA. Then I must not come back either. A woman has to be +braver than a soldier. + +THE CAPTAIN. Prouder, you mean. + +LAVINIA (startled) Prouder! You call our courage pride! + +THE CAPTAIN. There is no such thing as courage: there is only +pride. You Christians are the proudest devils on earth. + +LAVINIA (hurt) Pray God then my pride may never become a false +pride. (She turns away as if she did not wish to continue the +conversation, but softens and says to him with a smile) Thank you +for trying to save me from death + +THE CAPTAIN. I knew it was no use; but one tries in spite of +one's knowledge. + +LAVINIA. Something stirs, even in the iron breast of a Roman +soldier! + +THE CAPTAIN. It will soon be iron again. I have seen many women +die, and forgotten them in a week. + +LAVINIA. Remember me for a fortnight, handsome Captain. I shall +be watching you, perhaps. + +THE CAPTAIN. From the skies? Do not deceive yourself, Lavinia. +There is no future for you beyond the grave. + +LAVINIA. What does that matter? Do you think I am only running +away from the terrors of life into the comfort of heaven? If +there were no future, or if the future were one of torment, I +should have to go just the same. The hand of God is upon me. + +THE CAPTAIN. Yes: when all is said, we are both patricians, +Lavinia, and must die for our beliefs. Farewell. (He offers her +his hand. She takes it and presses it. He walks away, trim and +calm. She looks after him for a moment, and cries a little as he +disappears through the eastern arch. A trumpet-call is heard from +the road through the western arch). + +CENTURION (waking up and rising) Cohort of the tenth with +prisoners. Two file out with me to receive them. (He goes out +through the western arch, followed by four soldiers in two +files). + +Lentulus and Metellus come into the square from the west side +with a little retinue of servants. Both are young courtiers, +dressed in the extremity of fashion. Lentulus is slender, +fair-haired, epicene. Metellus is manly, compactly built, olive +skinned, not a talker. + +LENTULUS. Christians, by Jove! Let's chaff them. + +METELLUS. Awful brutes. If you knew as much about them as I do +you wouldn't want to chaff them. Leave them to the lions. + +LENTULUS (indicating Lavinia, who is still looking towards the +arches after the captain). That woman's got a figure. (He walks +past her, staring at her invitingly, but she is preoccupied and +is not conscious of him). Do you turn the other cheek when they +kiss you? + +LAVINIA (starting) What? + +LENTULus. Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you, +fascinating Christian? + +LAVINIA. Don't be foolish. (To Metellus, who has remained on her +right, so that she is between them) Please don't let your friend +behave like a cad before the soldiers. How are they to respect +and obey patricians if they see them behaving like street boys? +(Sharply to Lentulus) Pull yourself together, man. Hold your head +up. Keep the corners of your mouth firm; and treat me +respectfully. What do you take me for? + +LENTULUS (irresolutely) Look here, you know: I--you--I-- + +LAVINIA. Stuff! Go about your business. (She turns decisively +away and sits down with her comrades, leaving him disconcerted). + +METELLUS. You didn't get much out of that. I told you they were +brutes. + +LENTULUS. Plucky little filly! I suppose she thinks I care. (With +an air of indifference he strolls with Metellus to the east side +of the square, where they stand watching the return of the +Centurion through the western arch with his men, escorting three +prisoners: Ferrovius, Androcles, and Spintho. Ferrovius is a +powerful, choleric man in the prime of life, with large nostrils, +staring eyes, and a thick neck: a man whose sensibilities are +keen and violent to the verge of madness. Spintho is a debauchee, +the wreck of a good-looking man gone hopelessly to the bad. +Androcles is overwhelmed with grief, and is restraining his tears +with great difficulty). + +THE CENTURION (to Lavinia) Here are some pals for you. This +little bit is Ferrovius that you talk so much about. (Ferrovius +turns on him threateningly. The Centurion holds up his left +forefinger in admonition). Now remember that you're a Christian, +and that you've got to return good for evil. (Ferrovius controls +himself convulsively; moves away from temptation to the east side +near Lentulus; clasps his hands in silent prayer; and throws +himself on his knees). That's the way to manage them, eh! This +fine fellow (indicating Androcles, who comes to his left, and +makes Lavinia a heartbroken salutation) is a sorcerer. A Greek +tailor, he is. A real sorcerer, too: no mistake about it. The +tenth marches with a leopard at the head of the column. He made a +pet of the leopard; and now he's crying at being parted from it. +(Androcles sniffs lamentably). Ain't you, old chap? Well, cheer +up, we march with a Billy goat (Androcles brightens up) that's +killed two leopards and ate a turkey-cock. You can have him for a +pet if you like. (Androcles, quite consoled, goes past the +Centurion to Lavinia, and sits down contentedly on the ground on +her left). This dirty dog (collaring Spintho) is a real +Christian. He mobs the temples, he does (at each accusation he +gives the neck of Spintho's tunic a twist); he goes smashing +things mad drunk, he does; he steals the gold vessels, he does; +he assaults the priestesses, he does pah! (He flings Spintho into +the middle of the group of prisoners). You're the sort that makes +duty a pleasure, you are. + +SPINTHO (gasping) That's it: strangle me. Kick me. Beat me. +Revile me. Our Lord was beaten and reviled. That's my way to +heaven. Every martyr goes to heaven, no matter what he's done. +That is so, isn't it, brother? + +CENTURION. Well, if you're going to heaven, _I_ don't want to go +there. I wouldn't be seen with you. + +LENTULUS. Haw! Good! (Indicating the kneeling Ferrovius). Is this +one of the turn-the-other-cheek gentlemen, Centurion? + +CENTURION. Yes, sir. Lucky for you too, sir, if you want to take +any liberties with him. + +LENTULUS (to Ferrovius) You turn the other cheek when you're +struck, I'm told. + +FERROVIUS (slowly turning his great eyes on him) Yes, by the +grace of God, I do, NOW. + +LENTULUS. Not that you're a coward, of course; but out of pure +piety. + +FERROVIUS. I fear God more than man; at least I try to. + +LENTULUS. Let's see. (He strikes him on the cheek. Androcles +makes a wild movement to rise and interfere; but Lavinia holds +him down, watching Ferrovius intently. Ferrovius, without +flinching, turns the other cheek. Lentulus, rather out of +countenance, titters foolishly, and strikes him again feebly). +You know, I should feel ashamed if I let myself be struck like +that, and took it lying down. But then I'm not a Christian: I'm a +man. (Ferrovius rises impressively and towers over him. Lentulus +becomes white with terror; and a shade of green flickers in his +cheek for a moment). + +FERROVIUS (with the calm of a steam hammer) I have not always +been faithful. The first man who struck me as you have just +struck me was a stronger man than you: he hit me harder than I +expected. I was tempted and fell; and it was then that I first +tasted bitter shame. I never had a happy moment after that until +I had knelt and asked his forgiveness by his bedside in the +hospital. (Putting his hands on Lentulus's shoulders with +paternal weight). But now I have learnt to resist with a strength +that is not my own. I am not ashamed now, nor angry. + +LENTULUS (uneasily) Er--good evening. (He tries to move away). + +FERROVIUS (gripping his shoulders) Oh, do not harden your heart, +young man. Come: try for yourself whether our way is not better +than yours. I will now strike you on one cheek; and you will turn +the other and learn how much better you will feel than if you +gave way to the promptings of anger. (He holds him with one hand +and clenches the other fist). + +LENTULUS. Centurion: I call on you to protect me. + +CENTURION. You asked for it, sir. It's no business of ours. +You've had two whacks at him. Better pay him a trifle and square +it that way. + +LENTULUS. Yes, of course. (To Ferrovius) It was only a bit of +fun, I assure you: I meant no harm. Here. (He proffers a gold +coin). + +FERROVIUS (taking it and throwing it to the old beggar, who +snatches it up eagerly, and hobbles off to spend it) Give all +thou hast to the poor. Come, friend: courage! I may hurt your +body for a moment; but your soul will rejoice in the victory of +the spirit over the flesh. (He prepares to strike). + +ANDROCLES. Easy, Ferrovius, easy: you broke the last man's jaw. + +Lentulus, with a moan of terror, attempts to fly; but Ferrovius +holds him ruthlessly. + +FERROVIUS. Yes; but I saved his soul. What matters a broken jaw? + +LENTULUS. Don't touch me, do you hear? The law-- + +FERROVIUS. The law will throw me to the lions tomorrow: what +worse could it do were I to slay you? Pray for strength; and it +shall be given to you. + +LENTULUS. Let me go. Your religion forbids you to strike me. + +FERROVIUS. On the contrary, it commands me to strike you. How can +you turn the other cheek, if you are not first struck on the one +cheek? + +LENTULUS (almost in tears) But I'm convinced already that what +you said is quite right. I apologize for striking you. + +FERROVIUS (greatly pleased) My son: have I softened your heart? +Has the good seed fallen in a fruitful place? Are your feet +turning towards a better path? + +LENTULUS (abjectly) Yes, yes. There's a great deal in what you +say. + +FERROVIUS (radiant) Join us. Come to the lions. Come to suffering +and death. + +LENTULUS (falling on his knees and bursting into tears) Oh, help +me. Mother! mother! + +FERROVIUS. These tears will water your soul and make it bring +forth good fruit, my son. God has greatly blessed my efforts at +conversion. Shall I tell you a miracle--yes, a miracle--wrought +by me in Cappadocia? A young man--just such a one as you, with +golden hair like yours--scoffed at and struck me as you scoffed +at and struck me. I sat up all night with that youth wrestling +for his soul; and in the morning not only was he a Christian, but +his hair was as white as snow. (Lentulus falls in a dead faint). +There, there: take him away. The spirit has overwrought him, poor +lad. Carry him gently to his house; and leave the rest to heaven. + +CENTURION. Take him home. (The servants, intimidated, hastily +carry him out. Metellus is about to follow when Ferrovius lays +his hand on his shoulder). + +FERROVIUS. You are his friend, young man. You will see that he +is taken safely home. + +METELLUS (with awestruck civility) Certainly, sir. I shall do +whatever you think best. Most happy to have made your +acquaintance, I'm sure. You may depend on me. Good evening, sir. + +FERROVIUS (with unction) The blessing of heaven upon you and him. + +Metellus follows Lentulus. The Centurion returns to his seat to +resume his interrupted nap. The deepest awe has settled on the +spectators. Ferrovius, with a long sigh of happiness, goes to +Lavinia, and offers her his hand. + +LAVINIA (taking it) So that is how you convert people, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. Yes: there has been a blessing on my work in spite of +my unworthiness and my backslidings--all through my wicked, +devilish temper. This man-- + +ANDROCLES (hastily) Don't slap me on the back, brother. She knows +you mean me. + +FERROVIUS. How I wish I were weak like our brother here! for then +I should perhaps be meek and gentle like him. And yet there seems +to be a special providence that makes my trials less than his. I +hear tales of the crowd scoffing and casting stones and reviling +the brethren; but when I come, all this stops: my influence calms +the passions of the mob: they listen to me in silence; and +infidels are often converted by a straight heart-to-heart talk +with me. Every day I feel happier, more confident. Every day +lightens the load of the great terror. + +LAVINIA. The great terror? What is that? + +Ferrovius shakes his head and does not answer. He sits down +beside her on her left, and buries his face in his hands in +gloomy meditation. + +ANDROCLES. Well, you see, sister, he's never quite sure of +himself. Suppose at the last moment in the arena, with the +gladiators there to fight him, one of them was to say anything to +annoy him, he might forget himself and lay that gladiator out. + +LAVINIA. That would be splendid. + +FERROVIUS (springing up in horror) What! + +ANDROCLES. Oh, sister! + +FERROVIUS. Splendid to betray my master, like Peter! Splendid to +act like any common blackguard in the day of my proving! Woman: +you are no Christian. (He moves away from her to the middle of +the square, as if her neighborhood contaminated him). + +LAVINIA (laughing) You know, Ferrovius, I am not always a +Christian. I don't think anybody is. There are moments when I +forget all about it, and something comes out quite naturally, as +it did then. + +SPINTHO. What does it matter? If you die in the arena, you'll be +a martyr; and all martyrs go to heaven, no matter what they have +done. That's so, isn't it, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. Yes: that is so, if we are faithful to the end. + +LAVINIA. I'm not so sure. + +SPINTHO. Don't say that. That's blasphemy. Don't say that, I tell +you. We shall be saved, no matter WHAT we do. + +LAVINIA. Perhaps you men will all go into heaven bravely and in +triumph, with your heads erect and golden trumpets sounding for +you. But I am sure I shall only be allowed to squeeze myself in +through a little crack in the gate after a great deal of begging. +I am not good always: I have moments only. + +SPINTHO. You're talking nonsense, woman. I tell you, martyrdom +pays all scores. + +ANDROCLES. Well, let us hope so, brother, for your sake. You've +had a gay time, haven't you? with your raids on the temples. I +can't help thinking that heaven will be very dull for a man of +your temperament. (Spintho snarls). Don't be angry: I say it only +to console you in case you should die in your bed tonight in the +natural way. There's a lot of plague about. + +SPINTHO (rising and running about in abject terror) I never +thought of that. O Lord, spare me to be martyred. Oh, what a +thought to put into the mind of a brother! Oh, let me be martyred +today, now. I shall die in the night and go to hell. You're a +sorcerer: you've put death into my mind. Oh, curse you, curse +you! (He tries to seize Androcles by the throat). + +FERROVIUS (holding him in a grip of iron) What's this, brother? +Anger! Violence! Raising your hand to a brother Christian! + +SPINTHO. It's easy for you. You're strong. Your nerves are all +right. But I'm full of disease. (Ferrovius takes his hand from +him with instinctive disgust). I've drunk all my nerves away. I +shall have the horrors all night. + +ANDROCLES (sympathetic) Oh, don't take on so, brother. We're all +sinners. + +SPINTHO (snivelling, trying to feel consoled). Yes: I daresay if +the truth were known, you're all as bad as I am. + +LAVINIA (contemptuously) Does THAT comfort you? + +FERROVIUS (sternly) Pray, man, pray. + +SPINTHO. What's the good of praying? If we're martyred we shall +go to heaven, shan't we, whether we pray or not? + +FERROVIUS. What's that? Not pray! (Seizing him again) Pray this +instant, you dog, you rotten hound, you slimy snake, you beastly +goat, or-- + +SPINTHO. Yes: beat me: kick me. I forgive you: mind that. + +FERROVIUS (spurning him with loathing) Yah! (Spintho reels away +and falls in front of Ferrovius). + +ANDROCLES (reaching out and catching the skirt of Ferrovius's +tunic) Dear brother: if you wouldn't mind--just for my sake-- + +FERROVIUS. Well? + +ANDROCLES. Don't call him by the names of the animals. We've no +right to. I've had such friends in dogs. A pet snake is the best +of company. I was nursed on goat's milk. Is it fair to them to +call the like of him a dog or a snake or a goat? + +FERROVIUS. I only meant that they have no souls. + +ANDROCLES (anxiously protesting) Oh, believe me, they have. Just +the same as you and me. I really don't think I could consent to +go to heaven if I thought there were to be no animals there. +Think of what they suffer here. + +FERROVIUS. That's true. Yes: that is just. They will have their +share in heaven. + +SPINTHO (who has picked himself up and is sneaking past Ferrovius +on his left, sneers derisively)!! + +FERROVIUS (turning on him fiercely) What's that you say? + +SPINTHO (cornering). Nothing. + +FERROVIUS (clenching his fist) Do animals go to heaven or not? + +SPINTHO. I never said they didn't. + +FERROVIUS (implacable) Do they or do they not? + +SPINTHO. They do: they do. (Scrambling out of Ferrovius's reach). +Oh, curse you for frightening me! + +A bugle call is heard. + +CENTURION (waking up) Tention! Form as before. Now then, +prisoners, up with you and trot along spry. (The soldiers fall +in. The Christians rise). + +A man with an ox goad comes running through the central arch. + +THE OX DRIVER. Here, you soldiers! clear out of the way for the +Emperor. + +THE CENTURION. Emperor! Where's the Emperor? You ain't the +Emperor, are you? + +THE OX DRIVER. It's the menagerie service. My team of oxen is +drawing the new lion to the Coliseum. You clear the road. + +CENTURION. What! Go in after you in your dust, with half the town +at the heels of you and your lion! Not likely. We go first. + +THE OX DRIVER. The menagerie service is the Emperor's personal +retinue. You clear out, I tell you. + +CENTURION. You tell me, do you? Well, I'll tell you something. If +the lion is menagerie service, the lion's dinner is menagerie +service too. This (pointing to the Christians) is the lion's +dinner. So back with you to your bullocks double quick; and learn +your place. March. (The soldiers start). Now then, you +Christians, step out there. + +LAVINIA (marching) Come along, the rest of the dinner. I shall be +the olives and anchovies. + +ANOTHER CHRISTIAN (laughing) I shall be the soup. + +ANOTHER. I shall be the fish. + +ANOTHER. Ferrovius shall be the roast boar. + +FERROVIUS (heavily) I see the joke. Yes, yes: I shall be the +roast boar. Ha! ha! (He laughs conscientiously and marches out +with them). + +ANDROCLES. I shall be the mince pie. (Each announcement is +received with a louder laugh by all the rest as the joke catches +on). + +CENTURION (scandalised) Silence! Have some sense of your +situation. Is this the way for martyrs to behave? (To Spintho, +who is quaking and loitering) I know what YOU'LL be at that +dinner. You'll be the emetic. (He shoves him rudely along). + +SPINTHO. It's too dreadful: I'm not fit to die. + +CENTURION. Fitter than you are to live, you swine. + +They pass from the square westward. The oxen, drawing a waggon +with a great wooden cage and the lion in it, arrive through the +central arch. + + + +ACT II + +Behind the Emperor's box at the Coliseum, where the performers +assemble before entering the arena. In the middle a wide passage +leading to the arena descends from the floor level under the +imperial box. On both sides of this passage steps ascend to a +landing at the back entrance to the box. The landing forms a +bridge across the passage. At the entrance to the passage are two +bronze mirrors, one on each side. + +On the west side of this passage, on the right hand of any one +coming from the box and standing on the bridge, the martyrs are +sitting on the steps. Lavinia is seated half-way up, thoughtful, +trying to look death in the face. On her left Androcles consoles +himself by nursing a cat. Ferrovius stands behind them, his eyes +blazing, his figure stiff with intense resolution. At the foot of +the steps crouches Spintho, with his head clutched in his hands, +full of horror at the approach of martyrdom. + +On the east side of the passage the gladiators are standing and +sitting at ease, waiting, like the Christians, for their turn in +the arena. One (Retiarius) is a nearly naked man with a net and a +trident. Another (Secutor) is in armor with a sword. He carries a +helmet with a barred visor. The editor of the gladiators sits on +a chair a little apart from them. + +The Call Boy enters from the passage. + +THE CALL Boy. Number six. Retiarius versus Secutor. + +The gladiator with the net picks it up. The gladiator with the +helmet puts it on; and the two go into the arena, the net thrower +taking out a little brush and arranging his hair as he goes, the +other tightening his straps and shaking his shoulders loose. Both +look at themselves in the mirrors before they enter the passage. + +LAVINIA. Will they really kill one another? + +SPINTHO. Yes, if the people turn down their thumbs. + +THE EDITOR. You know nothing about it. The people indeed! Do you +suppose we would kill a man worth perhaps fifty talents to please +the riffraff? I should like to catch any of my men at it. + +SPINTHO. I thought-- + +THE EDITOR (contemptuously) You thought! Who cares what you +think? YOU'LL be killed all right enough. + +SPINTHO (groans and again hides his face)!!! Then is nobody ever +killed except us poor-- + +LAVINIA. Christians? + +THE EDITOR. If the vestal virgins turn down their thumbs, that's +another matter. They're ladies of rank. + +LAVINIA. Does the Emperor ever interfere? + +THE EDITOR. Oh, yes: he turns his thumbs up fast enough if the +vestal virgins want to have one of his pet fighting men killed. + +ANDROCLES. But don't they ever just only pretend to kill one +another? Why shouldn't you pretend to die, and get dragged out as +if you were dead; and then get up and go home, like an actor? + +THE EDITOR. See here: you want to know too much. There will be no +pretending about the new lion: let that be enough for you. He's +hungry. + +SPINTHO (groaning with horror) Oh, Lord! Can't you stop talking +about it? Isn't it bad enough for us without that? + +ANDROCLES. I'm glad he's hungry. Not that I want him to suffer, +poor chap! but then he'll enjoy eating me so much more. There's a +cheerful side to everything. + +THE EDITOR (rising and striding over to Androcles) Here: don't +you be obstinate. Come with me and drop the pinch of incense on +the altar. That's all you need do to be let off. + +ANDROCLES. No: thank you very much indeed; but I really mustn't. + +THE EDITOR. What! Not to save your life? + +ANDROCLES. I'd rather not. I couldn't sacrifice to Diana: she's a +huntress, you know, and kills things. + +THE EDITOR. That don't matter. You can choose your own altar. +Sacrifice to Jupiter: he likes animals: he turns himself into an +animal when he goes off duty. + +ANDROCLES. No: it's very kind of you; but I feel I can't save +myself that way. + +THE EDITOR. But I don't ask you to do it to save yourself: I ask +you to do it to oblige me personally. + +ANDROCLES (scrambling up in the greatest agitation) Oh, please +don't say that. That is dreadful. You mean so kindly by me that +it seems quite horrible to disoblige you. If you could arrange +for me to sacrifice when there's nobody looking, I shouldn't +mind. But I must go into the arena with the rest. My honor, you +know. + +THE EDITOR. Honor! The honor of a tailor? + +ANDROCLES (apologetically) Well, perhaps honor is too strong an +expression. Still, you know, I couldn't allow the tailors to get +a bad name through me. + +THE EDITOR. How much will you remember of all that when you smell +the beast's breath and see his jaws opening to tear out your +throat? + +SPINTHO (rising with a yell of terror) I can't bear it. Where's +the altar? I'll sacrifice. + +FERROVIUS. Dog of an apostate. Iscariot! + +SPINTHO. I'll repent afterwards. I fully mean to die in the arena +I'll die a martyr and go to heaven; but not this time, not now, +not until my nerves are better. Besides, I'm too young: I want to +have just one more good time. (The gladiators laugh at him). Oh, +will no one tell me where the altar is? (He dashes into the +passage and vanishes). + +ANDROCLES (to the Editor, pointing after Spintho) Brother: I +can't do that, not even to oblige you. Don't ask me. + +THE EDITOR. Well, if you're determined to die, I can't help you. +But I wouldn't be put off by a swine like that. + +FERROVIUS. Peace, peace: tempt him not. Get thee behind him, +Satan. + +THE EDITOR (flushing with rage) For two pins I'd take a turn in +the arena myself to-day, and pay you out for daring to talk to me +like that. + +Ferrovius springs forward. + +LAVINIA (rising quickly and interposing) Brother, brother: you +forget. + +FERROVIUS (curbing himself by a mighty effort) Oh, my temper, my +wicked temper! (To the Editor, as Lavinia sits down again, +reassured). Forgive me, brother. My heart was full of wrath: I +should have been thinking of your dear precious soul. + +THE EDITOR. Yah! (He turns his back on Ferrovius contemptuously, +and goes back to his seat). + +FERROVIUS (continuing) And I forgot it all: I thought of nothing +but offering to fight you with one hand tied behind me. + +THE EDITOR (turning pugnaciously) What! + +FERROVIUS (on the border line between zeal and ferocity) Oh, +don't give way to pride and wrath, brother. I could do it so +easily. I could-- + +They are separated by the Menagerie Keeper, who rushes in from +the passage, furious. + +THE KEEPER. Here's a nice business! Who let that Christian out of +here down to the dens when we were changing the lion into the +cage next the arena? + +THE EDITOR. Nobody let him. He let himself. + +THE KEEPER. Well, the lion's ate him. + +Consternation. The Christians rise, greatly agitated. The +gladiators sit callously, but are highly amused. All speak or cry +out or laugh at once. Tumult. + +LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished. +Praise be to God's justice! ANDROCLES. The poor beast was +starving. It couldn't help itself. THE CHRISTIANS. What! Ate him! +How frightful! How terrible! Without a moment to repent! God be +merciful to him, a sinner! Oh, I can't bear to think of it! In +the midst of his sin! Horrible, horrible! THE EDITOR. Serve the +rotter right! THE GLADIATORS. Just walked into it, he did. He's +martyred all right enough. Good old lion! Old Jock doesn't like +that: look at his face. Devil a better! The Emperor will laugh +when he hears of it. I can't help smiling. Ha ha ha!!!!! + +THE KEEPER. Now his appetite's taken off, he won't as much as +look at another Christian for a week. + +ANDROCLES. Couldn't you have saved him brother? + +THE KEEPER. Saved him! Saved him from a lion that I'd just got +mad with hunger! a wild one that came out of the forest not four +weeks ago! He bolted him before you could say Balbus. + +LAVINIA (sitting down again) Poor Spintho! And it won't even +count as martyrdom! + +THE KEEPER. Serve him right! What call had he to walk down the +throat of one of my lions before he was asked? + +ANDROCLES. Perhaps the lion won't eat me now. + +THE KEEPER. Yes: that's just like a Christian: think only of +yourself! What am I to do? What am I to say to the Emperor when +he sees one of my lions coming into the arena half asleep? + +THE EDITOR. Say nothing. Give your old lion some bitters and a +morsel of fried fish to wake up his appetite. (Laughter). + +THE KEEPER. Yes: it's easy for you to talk; but-- + +THE EDITOR (scrambling to his feet) Sh! Attention there! The +Emperor. (The Keeper bolts precipitately into the passage. The +gladiators rise smartly and form into line). + +The Emperor enters on the Christians' side, conversing with +Metellus, and followed by his suite. + +THE GLADIATORS. Hail, Caesar! those about to die salute thee. + +CAESAR. Good morrow, friends. + +Metellus shakes hands with the Editor, who accepts his +condescension with bluff respect. + +LAVINIA. Blessing, Caesar, and forgiveness! + +CAESAR (turning in some surprise at the salutation) There is no +forgiveness for Christianity. + +LAVINIA. I did not mean that, Caesar. I mean that WE forgive YOU. + +METELLUS. An inconceivable liberty! Do you not know, woman, that +the Emperor can do no wrong and therefore cannot be forgiven? + +LAVINIA. I expect the Emperor knows better. Anyhow, we forgive +him. + +THE CHRISTIANS. Amen! + +CAESAR. Metellus: you see now the disadvantage of too much +severity. These people have no hope; therefore they have nothing +to restrain them from saying what they like to me. They are +almost as impertinent as the gladiators. Which is the Greek +sorcerer? + +ANDROCLES (humbly touching his forelock) Me, your Worship. + +CAESAR. My Worship! Good! A new title. Well, what miracles can +you perform? + +ANDROCLES. I can cure warts by rubbing them with my tailor's +chalk; and I can live with my wife without beating her. + +CAESAR. Is that all? + +ANDROCLES. You don't know her, Caesar, or you wouldn't say that. + +CAESAR. Ah, well, my friend, we shall no doubt contrive a happy +release for you. Which is Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. I am he. + +CAESAR. They tell me you can fight. + +FERROVIUS. It is easy to fight. I can die, Caesar. + +CAESAR. That is still easier, is it not? + +FERROVIUS. Not to me, Caesar. Death comes hard to my flesh; and +fighting comes very easily to my spirit (beating his breast and +lamenting) O sinner that I am! (He throws himself down on the +steps, deeply discouraged). + +CAESAR. Metellus: I should like to have this man in the Pretorian +Guard. + +METELLUS. I should not, Caesar. He looks a spoilsport. There are +men in whose presence it is impossible to have any fun: men who +are a sort of walking conscience. He would make us all +uncomfortable. + +CAESAR. For that reason, perhaps, it might be well to have him. +An Emperor can hardly have too many consciences. (To Ferrovius) +Listen, Ferrovius. (Ferrovius shakes his head and will not look +up). You and your friends shall not be outnumbered to-day in the +arena. You shall have arms; and there will be no more than one +gladiator to each Christian. If you come out of the arena alive, +I will consider favorably any request of yours, and give you a +place in the Pretorian Guard. Even if the request be that no +questions be asked about your faith I shall perhaps not refuse +it. + +FERROVIUS. I will not fight. I will die. Better stand with the +archangels than with the Pretorian Guard. + +CAESAR. I cannot believe that the archangels--whoever they may +be--would not prefer to be recruited from the Pretorian Guard. +However, as you please. Come: let us see the show. + +As the Court ascends the steps, Secutor and the Retiarius return +from the arena through the passage; Secutor covered with dust and +very angry: Retiarius grinning. + +SECUTOR. Ha, the Emperor. Now we shall see. Caesar: I ask you +whether it is fair for the Retiarius, instead of making a fair +throw of his net at me, to swish it along the ground and throw +the dust in my eyes, and then catch me when I'm blinded. If the +vestals had not turned up their thumbs I should have been a dead +man. + +CAESAR (halting on the stair) There is nothing in the rules +against it. + +SECUTOR (indignantly) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not? + +CAESAR. It is a dusty one, my friend. (Obsequious laughter). Be +on your guard next time. + +SECUTOR. Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I'll throw my sword +at his heels and strangle him with his own net before he can hop +off. (To Retiarius) You see if I don't. (He goes out past the +gladiators, sulky and furious). + +CAESAR (to the chuckling Retiarius). These tricks are not wise, +my friend. The audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty +and splendor. If you smudge his face and spoil his armor they +will show their displeasure by not letting you kill him. And when +your turn comes, they will remember it against you and turn their +thumbs down. + +THE RETIARIUS. Perhaps that is why I did it, Caesar. He bet me +ten sesterces that he would vanquish me. If I had had to kill +him I should not have had the money. + +CAESAR (indulgent, laughing) You rogues: there is no end to your +tricks. I'll dismiss you all and have elephants to fight. They +fight fairly. (He goes up to his box, and knocks at it. It is +opened from within by the Captain, who stands as on parade to let +him pass). The Call Boy comes from the passage, followed by +three attendants carrying respectively a bundle of swords, some +helmets, and some breastplates and pieces of armor which they +throw down in a heap. + +THE CALL BOY. By your leave, Caesar. Number eleven! Gladiators +and Christians! + +Ferrovius springs up, ready for martyrdom. The other Christians +take the summons as best they can, some joyful and brave, some +patient and dignified, some tearful and helpless, some embracing +one another with emotion. The Call Boy goes back into the +passage. + +CAESAR (turning at the door of the box) The hour has come, +Ferrovius. I shall go into my box and see you killed, since you +scorn the Pretorian Guard. (He goes into the box. The Captain +shuts the door, remaining inside with the Emperor. Metellus and +the rest of the suite disperse to their seats. The Christians, +led by Ferrovius, move towards the passage). + +LAVINIA (to Ferrovius) Farewell. + +THE EDITOR. Steady there. You Christians have got to fight. Here! +arm yourselves. + +FERROVIUS (picking up a sword) I'll die sword in hand to show +people that I could fight if it were my Master's will, and that I +could kill the man who kills me if I chose. + +THE EDITOR. Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS. No armor. + +THE EDITOR (bullying him) Do what you're told. Put on that armor. + +FERROVIUS (gripping the sword and looking dangerous) I said, No +armor. + +THE EDITOR. And what am I to say when I am accused of sending a +naked man in to fight my men in armor? + +FERROVIUS. Say your prayers, brother; and have no fear of the +princes of this world. + +THE EDITOR. Tsha! You obstinate fool! (He bites his lips +irresolutely, not knowing exactly what to do). + +ANDROCLES (to Ferrovius) Farewell, brother, till we meet in the +sweet by-and-by. + +THE EDITOR (to Androcles) You are going too. Take a sword there; +and put on any armor you can find to fit you. + +ANDROCLES. No, really: I can't fight: I never could. I can't +bring myself to dislike anyone enough. I'm to be thrown to the +lions with the lady. + +THE EDITOR. Then get out of the way and hold your noise. +(Androcles steps aside with cheerful docility). Now then! Are you +all ready there? A trumpet is heard from the arena. + +FERROVIUS (starting convulsively) Heaven give me strength! + +THE EDITOR. Aha! That frightens you, does it? + +FERROVIUS. Man: there is no terror like the terror of that sound +to me. When I hear a trumpet or a drum or the clash of steel or +the hum of the catapult as the great stone flies, fire runs +through my veins: I feel my blood surge up hot behind my eyes: I +must charge: I must strike: I must conquer: Caesar himself will +not be safe in his imperial seat if once that spirit gets loose +in me. Oh, brothers, pray! exhort me! remind me that if I raise +my sword my honor falls and my Master is crucified afresh. + +ANDROCLES. Just keep thinking how cruelly you might hurt the poor +gladiators. + +FERROVIUS. It does not hurt a man to kill him. + +LAVINIA. Nothing but faith can save you. + +FERROVIUS. Faith! Which faith? There are two faiths. There is our +faith. And there is the warrior's faith, the faith in fighting, +the faith that sees God in the sword. How if that faith should +overwhelm me? + +LAVINIA. You will find your real faith in the hour of trial. + +FERROVIUS. That is what I fear. I know that I am a fighter. How +can I feel sure that I am a Christian? + +ANDROCLES. Throw away the sword, brother. + +FERROVIUS. I cannot. It cleaves to my hand. I could as easily +throw a woman I loved from my arms. (Starting) Who spoke that +blasphemy? Not I. + +LAVINIA. I can't help you, friend. I can't tell you not to save +your own life. Something wilful in me wants to see you fight your +way into heaven. + +FERROVIUS. Ha! + +ANDROCLES. But if you are going to give up our faith, brother, +why not do it without hurting anybody? Don't fight them. Burn the +incense. + +FERROVIUS. Burn the incense! Never. + +LAVINIA. That is only pride, Ferrovius. + +FERROVIUS. ONLY pride! What is nobler than pride? (Conscience +stricken) Oh, I'm steeped in sin. I'm proud of my pride. + +LAVINIA. They say we Christians are the proudest devils on earth +--that only the weak are meek. Oh, I am worse than you. I ought +to send you to death; and I am tempting you. + +ANDROCLES. Brother, brother: let THEM rage and kill: let US be +brave and suffer. You must go as a lamb to the slaughter. + +FERROVIUS. Aye, aye: that is right. Not as a lamb is slain by the +butcher; but as a butcher might let himself be slain by a +(looking at the Editor) by a silly ram whose head he could fetch +off in one twist. + +Before the Editor can retort, the Call Boy rushes up through the +passage; and the Captain comes from the Emperor's box and +descends the steps. + +THE CALL BOY. In with you: into the arena. The stage is waiting. + +THE CAPTAIN. The Emperor is waiting. (To the Editor) What are you +dreaming of, man? Send your men in at once. + +THE EDITOR. Yes, Sir: it's these Christians hanging back. + +FERROVIUS (in a voice of thunder) Liar! + +THE EDITOR (not heeding him) March. (The gladiators told off to +fight with the Christians march down the passage) Follow up +there, you. + +THE CHRISTIAN MEN AND WOMEN (as they part) Be steadfast, brother. +Farewell. Hold up the faith, brother. Farewell. Go to glory, +dearest. Farewell. Remember: we are praying for you. Farewell. Be +strong, brother. Farewell. Don't forget that the divine love and +our love surround you. Farewell. Nothing can hurt you: remember +that, brother. Farewell. Eternal glory, dearest. Farewell. + +THE EDITOR (out of patience) Shove them in, there. + +The remaining gladiators and the Call Boy make a movement towards +them. + +FERROVIUS (interposing) Touch them, dogs; and we die here, and +cheat the heathen of their spectacle. (To his fellow Christians) +Brothers: the great moment has come. That passage is your hill to +Calvary. Mount it bravely, but meekly; and remember! not a word +of reproach, not a blow nor a struggle. Go. (They go out through +the passage. He turns to Lavinia) Farewell. + +LAVINIA. You forget: I must follow before you are cold. + +FERROVIUS. It is true. Do not envy me because I pass before you +to glory. (He goes through the passage). + +THE EDITOR (to the Call Boy) Sickening work, this. Why can't they +all be thrown to the lions? It's not a man's job. (He throws +himself moodily into his chair). + +The remaining gladiators go back to their former places +indifferently. The Call Boy shrugs his shoulders and squats down +at the entrance to the passage, near the Editor. + +Lavinia and the Christian women sit down again, wrung with grief, +some weeping silently, some praying, some calm and steadfast. +Androcles sits down at Lavinia's feet. The Captain stands on the +stairs, watching her curiously. + +ANDROCLES. I'm glad I haven't to fight. That would really be an +awful martyrdom. I AM lucky. + +LAVINIA (looking at him with a pang of remorse). Androcles: burn +the incense: you'll be forgiven. Let my death atone for both. I +feel as if I were killing you. + +ANDROCLES. Don't think of me, sister. Think of yourself. That +will keep your heart up. + +The Captain laughs sardonically. + +LAVINIA (startled: she had forgotten his presence) Are you there, +handsome Captain? Have you come to see me die? + +THE CAPTAIN (coming to her side) I am on duty with the Emperor, +Lavinia. + +LAVINIA. Is it part of your duty to laugh at us? + +THE CAPTAIN. No: that is part of my private pleasure. Your friend +here is a humorist. I laughed at his telling you to think of +yourself to keep up your heart. I say, think of yourself and burn +the incense. + +LAVINIA. He is not a humorist: he was right. You ought to know +that, Captain: you have been face to face with death. + +THE CAPTAIN. Not with certain death, Lavinia. Only death in +battle, which spares more men than death in bed. What you are +facing is certain death. You have nothing left now but your faith +in this craze of yours: this Christianity. Are your Christian +fairy stories any truer than our stories about Jupiter and Diana, +in which, I may tell you, I believe no more than the Emperor +does, or any educated man in Rome? + +LAVINIA. Captain: all that seems nothing to me now. I'll not say +that death is a terrible thing; but I will say that it is so real +a thing that when it comes close, all the imaginary things--all +the stories, as you call them--fade into mere dreams beside that +inexorable reality. I know now that I am not dying for stories or +dreams. Did you hear of the dreadful thing that happened here +while we were waiting? + +THE CAPTAIN. I heard that one of your fellows bolted,, and ran +right into the jaws of the lion. I laughed. I still laugh. + +LAVINIA. Then you don't understand what that meant? + +THE CAPTAIN. It meant that the lion had a cur for his breakfast. + +LAVINIA. It meant more than that, Captain. It meant that a man +cannot die for a story and a dream. None of us believed the +stories and the dreams more devoutly than poor Spintho; but he +could not face the great reality. What he would have called my +faith has been oozing away minute by minute whilst I've been +sitting here, with death coming nearer and nearer, with reality +becoming realler and realler, with stories and dreams fading away +into nothing. + +THE CAPTAIN. Are you then going to die for nothing? + +LAVINIA. Yes: that is the wonderful thing. It is since all the +stories and dreams have gone that I have now no doubt at all that +I must die for something greater than dreams or stories. + +THE CAPTAIN. But for what? + +LAVINIA. I don't know. If it were for anything small enough to +know, it would be too small to die for. I think I'm going to die +for God. Nothing else is real enough to die for. + +THE CAPTAIN. What is God? + +LAVINIA. When we know that, Captain, we shall be gods ourselves. + +THE CAPTAIN. Lavinia; come down to earth. Burn the incense and +marry me. + +LAVINIA. Handsome Captain: would you marry me if I hauled down +the flag in the day of battle and burnt the incense? Sons take +after their mothers, you know. Do you want your son to be a +coward? + +THE CAPTAIN (strongly moved). By great Diana, I think I would +strangle you if you gave in now. + +LAVINIA (putting her hand on the head of Androcles) The hand of +God is on us three, Captain. + +THE CAPTAIN. What nonsense it all is! And what a monstrous thing +that you should die for such nonsense, and that I should look on +helplessly when my whole soul cries out against it! Die then if +you must; but at least I can cut the Emperor's throat and then my +own when I see your blood. + +The Emperor throws open the door of his box angrily, and appears +in wrath on the threshold. The Editor, the Call Boy, and the +gladiators spring to their feet. + +THE EMPEROR. The Christians will not fight; and your curs cannot +get their blood up to attack them. It's all that fellow with the +blazing eyes. Send for the whip. (The Call Boy rushes out on the +east side for the whip). If that will not move them, bring the +hot irons. The man is like a mountain. (He returns angrily into +the box and slams the door). + +The Call Boy returns with a man in a hideous Etruscan mask, +carrying a whip. They both rush down the passage into the arena. + +LAVINIA (rising) Oh, that is unworthy. Can they not kill him +without dishonoring him? + +ANDROCLES (scrambling to his feet and running into the middle of +the space between the staircases) It's dreadful. Now I want to +fight. I can't bear the sight of a whip. The only time I ever hit +a man was when he lashed an old horse with a whip. It was +terrible: I danced on his face when he was on the ground. He +mustn't strike Ferrovius: I'll go into the arena and kill him +first. (He makes a wild dash into the passage. As he does so a +great clamor is heard from the arena, ending in wild +applause. The gladiators listen and look inquiringly at one +another). + +THE EDITOR. What's up now? + +LAVINIA (to the Captain) What has happened, do you think? + +THE CAPTAIN. What CAN happen? They are killing them, I suppose. + +ANDROCLES (running in through the passage, screaming with horror +and hiding his eyes)!!! + +LAVINIA. Androcles, Androcles: what's the matter? + +ANDROCLES. Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me. Something too +dreadful. Oh! (He crouches by her and hides his face in her robe, +sobbing). + +THE CALL Boy (rushing through from the passage as before) Ropes +and hooks there! Ropes and hooks. + +THE EDITOR. Well, need you excite yourself about it? (Another +burst of applause). + +Two slaves in Etruscan masks, with ropes and drag hooks, hurry +in. + +ONE OF THE SLAVES. How many dead? + +THE CALL Boy. Six. (The slave blows a whistle twice; and four +more masked slaves rush through into the arena with the same +apparatus) And the basket. Bring the baskets. (The slave whistles +three times, and runs through the passage with his companion). + +THE CAPTAIN. Who are the baskets for? + +THE CALL Boy. For the whip. He's in pieces. They're all in +pieces, more or less. (Lavinia hides her face). + +(Two more masked slaves come in with a basket and follow the +others into the arena, as the Call Boy turns to the gladiators +and exclaims, exhausted) Boys, he's killed the lot. + +THE EMPEROR (again bursting from his box, this time in an ecstasy +of delight) Where is he? Magnificent! He shall have a laurel +crown. + +Ferrovius, madly waving his bloodstained sword, rushes through +the passage in despair, followed by his co-religionists, and by +the menagerie keeper, who goes to the gladiators. The gladiators +draw their swords nervously. + +FERROVIUs. Lost! lost forever! I have betrayed my Master. Cut off +this right hand: it has offended. Ye have swords, my brethren: +strike. + +LAVINIA. No, no. What have you done, Ferrovius? + +FERROVIUS. I know not; but there was blood behind my eyes; and +there's blood on my sword. What does that mean? + +THE EMPEROR (enthusiastically, on the landing outside his box) +What does it mean? It means that you are the greatest man in +Rome. It means that you shall have a laurel crown of gold. Superb +fighter, I could almost yield you my throne. It is a record for +my reign: I shall live in history. Once, in Domitian's time, a +Gaul slew three men in the arena and gained his freedom. But when +before has one naked man slain six armed men of the bravest and +best? The persecution shall cease: if Christians can fight like +this, I shall have none but Christians to fight for me. (To the +Gladiators) You are ordered to become Christians, you there: do +you hear? + +RETIARIUS. It is all one to us, Caesar. Had I been there with my +net, the story would have been different. + +THE CAPTAIN (suddenly seizing Lavinia by the wrist and dragging +her up the steps to the Emperor) Caesar this woman is the sister +of Ferrovius. If she is thrown to the lions he will fret. He will +lose weight; get out of condition + +THE EMPEROR. The lions? Nonsense! (To Lavinia) Madam: I am proud +to have the honor of making your acquaintance. Your brother is +the glory of Rome. + +LAVINIA. But my friends here. Must they die? + +THE EMPEROR. Die! Certainly not. There has never been the +slightest idea of harming them. Ladies and gentlemen: you are all +free. Pray go into the front of the house and enjoy the spectacle +to which your brother has so splendidly contributed. Captain: +oblige me by conducting them to the seats reserved for my +personal friends. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar: I must have one Christian for the +lion. The people have been promised it; and they will tear the +decorations to bits if they are disappointed. + +THE EMPEROR. True, true: we must have somebody for the new lion. + +FERROVIUS. Throw me to him. Let the apostate perish. + +THE EMPEROR. No, no: you would tear him in pieces, my friend; and +we cannot afford to throw away lions as if they were mere slaves. +But we must have somebody. This is really extremely awkward. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Why not that little Greek chap? He's not a +Christian: he's a sorcerer. + +THE EMPEROR. The very thing: he will do very well. + +THE CALL Boy (issuing from the passage) Number twelve. The +Christian for the new lion. + +ANDROCLES (rising, and pulling himself sadly together) Well, it +was to be, after all. + +LAVINIA. I'll go in his place, Caesar. Ask the Captain whether +they do not like best to see a woman torn to pieces. He told me +so yesterday. + +THE EMPEROR. There is something in that: there is certainly +something in that--if only I could feel sure that your brother +would not fret. + +ANDROCLES. No: I should never have another happy hour. No: on the +faith of a Christian and the honor of a tailor, I accept the lot +that has fallen on me. If my wife turns up, give her my love and +say that my wish was that she should be happy with her next, poor +fellow! Caesar: go to your box and see how a tailor can die. Make +way for number twelve there. (He marches out along the passage). + +The vast audience in the amphitheatre now sees the Emperor +re-enter his box and take his place as Androcles, desperately +frightened, but still marching with piteous devotion, emerges +from the other end of the passage, and finds himself at the focus +of thousands of eager eyes. The lion's cage, with a heavy +portcullis grating, is on his left. The Emperor gives a signal. A +gong sounds. Androcles shivers at the sound; then falls on his +knees and prays. + +The grating rises with a clash. The lion bounds into the arena. +He rushes round frisking in his freedom. He sees Androcles. He +stops; rises stiffly by straightening his legs; stretches out his +nose forward and his tail in a horizontal line behind, like a +pointer, and utters an appalling roar. Androcles crouches and +hides his face in his hands. The lion gathers himself for a +spring, swishing his tail to and fro through the dust in an +ecstasy of anticipation. Androcles throws up his hands in +supplication to heaven. The lion checks at the sight of +Androcles's face. He then steals towards him; smells him; arches +his back; purrs like a motor car; finally rubs himself against +Androcles, knocking him over. Androcles, supporting himself on +his wrist, looks affrightedly at the lion. The lion limps on +three paws, holding up the other as if it was wounded. A flash of +recognition lights up the face of Androcles. He flaps his hand as +if it had a thorn in it, and pretends to pull the thorn out and +to hurt himself. The lion nods repeatedly. Androcles holds out +his hands to the lion, who gives him both paws, which +he shakes with enthusiasm. They embrace rapturously, finally +waltz round the arena amid a sudden burst of deafening applause, +and out through the passage, the Emperor watching them in +breathless astonishment until they disappear, when he rushes from +his box and descends the steps in frantic excitement. + +THE EMPEROR. My friends, an incredible! an amazing thing! has +happened. I can no longer doubt the truth of Christianity. (The +Christians press to him joyfully) This Christian sorcerer--(with +a yell, he breaks off as he sees Androcles and the lion emerge +from the passage, waltzing. He bolts wildly up the steps into his +box, and slams the door. All, Christians and gladiators' alike, +fly for their lives, the gladiators bolting into the arena, the +others in all directions. The place is emptied with magical +suddenness). + +ANDROCLES (naively) Now I wonder why they all run away from us +like that. (The lion combining a series of yawns, purrs, and +roars, achieves something very like a laugh). + +THE EMPEROR (standing on a chair inside his box and looking over +the wall) Sorcerer: I command you to put that lion to death +instantly. It is guilty of high treason. Your conduct is most +disgra-- (the lion charges at him up the stairs) help! (He +disappears. The lion rears against the box; looks over the +partition at him, and roars. The Emperor darts out through the +door and down to Androcles, pursued by the lion.) + +ANDROCLES. Don't run away, sir: he can't help springing if you +run. (He seizes the Emperor and gets between him and the lion, +who stops at once). Don't be afraid of him. + +THE EMPEROR. I am NOT afraid of him. (The lion crouches, +growling. The Emperor clutches Androcles) Keep between us. + +ANDROCLES. Never be afraid of animals, your Worship: that's the +great secret. He'll be as gentle as a lamb when he knows that you +are his friend. Stand quite still; and smile; and let him smell +you all over just to reassure him; for, you see, he's afraid of +you; and he must examine you thoroughly before he gives you his +confidence. (To the lion) Come now, Tommy; and speak nicely to +the Emperor, the great, good Emperor who has power to have all +our heads cut off if we don't behave very, VERY respectfully to +him. + +The lion utters a fearful roar. The Emperor dashes madly up the +steps, across the landing, and down again on the other side, with +the lion in hot pursuit. Androcles rushes after the lion; +overtakes him as he is descending; and throws himself on his +back, trying to use his toes as a brake. Before he can stop him +the lion gets hold of the trailing end of the Emperor's robe. + +ANDROCLES. Oh bad wicked Tommy, to chase the Emperor like that! +Let go the Emperor's robe at once, sir: where's your manners? +(The lion growls and worries the robe). Don't pull it away from +him, your worship. He's only playing. Now I shall be really angry +with you, Tommy, if you don't let go. (The lion growls again) +I'll tell you what it is, sir: he thinks you and I are not +friends. + +THE EMPEROR (trying to undo the clasp of his brooch) Friends! You +infernal scoundrel (the lion growls)don't let him go. Curse this +brooch! I can't get it loose. + +ANDROCLES. We mustn't let him lash himself into a rage. You must +show him that you are my particular friend--if you will have the +condescension. (He seizes the Emperor's hands, and shakes them +cordially), Look, Tommy: the nice Emperor is the dearest friend +Andy Wandy has in the whole world: he loves him like a brother. + +THE EMPEROR. You little brute, you damned filthy little dog of a +Greek tailor: I'll have you burnt alive for daring to touch the +divine person of the Emperor. (The lion roars). + +ANDROCLES. Oh don't talk like that, sir. He understands every +word you say: all animals do: they take it from the tone of your +voice. (The lion growls and lashes his tail). I think he's going +to spring at your worship. If you wouldn't mind saying something +affectionate. (The lion roars). + +THE EMPEROR (shaking Androcles' hands frantically) My dearest Mr. +Androcles, my sweetest friend, my long lost brother, come to my +arms. (He embraces Androcles). Oh, what an abominable smell of +garlic! + +The lion lets go the robe and rolls over on his back, clasping +his forepaws over one another coquettishly above his nose. + +ANDROCLES. There! You see, your worship, a child might play with +him now. See! (He tickles the lion's belly. The lion wriggles +ecstatically). Come and pet him. + +THE EMPEROR. I must conquer these unkingly terrors. Mind you +don't go away from him, though. (He pats the lion's chest). + +ANDROCLES. Oh, sir, how few men would have the courage to do +that-- + +THE EMPEROR. Yes: it takes a bit of nerve. Let us invite the +Court in and frighten them. Is he safe, do you think? + +ANDROCLES. Quite safe now, sir. + +THE EMPEROR (majestically) What ho, there! All who are within +hearing, return without fear. Caesar has tamed the lion. (All the +fugitives steal cautiously in. The menagerie keeper comes from +the passage with other keepers armed with iron bars and +tridents). Take those things away. I have subdued the beast. (He +places his foot on it). + +FERROVIUS (timidly approaching the Emperor and looking down with +awe on the lion) It is strange that I, who fear no man, should +fear a lion. + +THE CAPTAIN. Every man fears something, Ferrovius. + +THE EMPEROR. How about the Pretorian Guard now? + +FERROVIUS. In my youth I worshipped Mars, the God of War. I +turned from him to serve the Christian god; but today the +Christian god forsook me; and Mars overcame me and took back his +own. The Christian god is not yet. He will come when Mars and I +are dust; but meanwhile I must serve the gods that are, not the +God that will be. Until then I accept service in the Guard, +Caesar. + +THE EMPEROR. Very wisely said. All really sensible men agree that +the prudent course is to be neither bigoted in our attachment to +the old nor rash and unpractical in keeping an open mind for the +new, but to make the best of both dispensations. + +THE CAPTAIN. What do you say, Lavinia? Will you too be prudent? + +LAVINIA (on the stair) No: I'll strive for the coming of the God +who is not yet. + +THE CAPTAIN. May I come and argue with you occasionally? + +LAVINIA. Yes, handsome Captain: you may. (He kisses her hands). + +THE EMPEROR. And now, my friends, though I do not, as you see, +fear this lion, yet the strain of his presence is considerable; +for none of us can feel quite sure what he will do next. + +THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar: give us this Greek sorcerer to be a +slave in the menagerie. He has a way with the beasts. + +ANDROCLES (distressed). Not if they are in cages. They should not +be kept in cages. They must all be let out. + +THE EMPEROR. I give this sorcerer to be a slave to the first man +who lays hands on him. (The menagerie keepers and the gladiators +rush for Androcles. The lion starts up and faces them. They surge +back). You see how magnanimous we Romans are, Androcles. We +suffer you to go in peace. + +ANDROCLES. I thank your worship. I thank you all, ladies and +gentlemen. Come, Tommy. Whilst we stand together, no cage for +you: no slavery for me. (He goes out with the lion, everybody +crowding away to give him as wide a berth as possible). + +In this play I have represented one of the Roman persecutions of +the early Christians, not as the conflict of a false theology +with a true, but as what all such persecutions essentially are: +an attempt to suppress a propaganda that seemed to threaten the +interests involved in the established law and order, organized +and maintained in the name of religion and justice by politicians +who are pure opportunist Have-and-Holders. People who are shown +by their inner light the possibility of a better world based on +the demand of the spirit for a nobler and more abundant life, not +for themselves at the expense of others, but for everybody, are +naturally dreaded and therefore hated by the Have-and-Holders, +who keep always in reserve two sure weapons against them. The +first is a persecution effected by the provocation, organization, +and arming of that herd instinct which makes men abhor all +departures from custom, and, by the most cruel punishments and +the wildest calumnies, force eccentric people to behave and +profess exactly as other people do. The second is by leading the +herd to war, which immediately and infallibly makes them forget +everything, even their most cherished and hardwon public +liberties and private interests, in the irresistible surge of +their pugnacity and the tense pre-occupation of their terror. + +There is no reason to believe that there was anything more in the +Roman persecutions than this. The attitude of the Roman Emperor +and the officers of his staff towards the opinions at issue were +much the same as those of a modern British Home Secretary towards +members of the lower middle classes when some pious policeman +charges them with Bad Taste, technically called blasphemy: Bad +Taste being a violation of Good Taste, which in such matters +practically means Hypocrisy. The Home Secretary and the judges +who try the case are usually far more sceptical and blasphemous +than the poor men whom they persecute; and their professions of +horror at the blunt utterance of their own opinions are revolting +to those behind the scenes who have any genuine religious +sensibility; but the thing is done because the governing classes, +provided only the law against blasphemy is not applied to +themselves, strongly approve of such persecution because it +enables them to represent their own privileges as part of the +religion of the country. + +Therefore my martyrs are the martyrs of all time, and my +persecutors the persecutors of all time. My Emperor, who has no +sense of the value of common people's lives, and amuses himself +with killing as carelessly as with sparing, is the sort of +monster you can make of any silly-clever gentleman by idolizing +him. We are still so easily imposed on by such idols that one of +the leading pastors of the Free Churches in London denounced my +play on the ground that my persecuting Emperor is a very fine +fellow, and the persecuted Christians ridiculous. From which I +conclude that a popular pulpit may be as perilous to a man's soul +as an imperial throne. + +All my articulate Christians, the reader will notice, have +different enthusiasms, which they accept as the same religion +only because it involves them in a common opposition to the +official religion and consequently in a common doom. Androcles is +a humanitarian naturalist, whose views surprise everybody. +Lavinia, a clever and fearless freethinker, shocks the Pauline +Ferrovius, who is comparatively stupid and conscience ridden. +Spintho, the blackguardly debauchee, is presented as one of the +typical Christians of that period on the authority of St. +Augustine, who seems to have come to the conclusion at one period +of his development that most Christians were what we call wrong +uns. No doubt he was to some extent right: I have had occasion +often to point out that revolutionary movements attract those who +are not good enough for established institutions as well as those +who are too good for them. + +But the most striking aspect of the play at this moment is the +terrible topicality given it by the war. We were at peace when I +pointed out, by the mouth of Ferrovius, the path of an honest man +who finds out, when the trumpet sounds, that he cannot follow +Jesus. Many years earlier, in The Devil's Disciple, I touched the +same theme even more definitely, and showed the minister throwing +off his black coat for ever when he discovered, amid the thunder +of the captains and the shouting, that he was a born fighter. +Great numbers of our clergy have found themselves of late in the +position of Ferrovius and Anthony Anderson. They have discovered +that they hate not only their enemies but everyone who does not +share their hatred, and that they want to fight and to force +other people to fight. They have turned their churches into +recruiting stations and their vestries into munition workshops. +But it has never occurred to them to take off their black coats +and say quite simply, "I find in the hour of trial that the +Sermon on the Mount is tosh, and that I am not a Christian. I +apologize for all the unpatriotic nonsense I have been preaching +all these years. Have the goodness to give me a revolver and a +commission in a regiment which has for its chaplain a priest of +the god Mars: my God." Not a bit of it. They have stuck to their +livings and served Mars in the name of Christ, to the scandal of +all religious mankind. When the Archbishop of York behaved like a +gentleman and the Head Master of Eton preached a Christian +sermon, and were reviled by the rabble, the Martian parsons +encouraged the rabble. For this they made no apologies or +excuses, good or bad. They simple indulged their passions, just +as they had always indulged their class prejudices and commercial +interests, without troubling themselves for a moment as to +whether they were Christians or not. They did not protest even +when a body calling itself the AntiGerman League (not having +noticed, apparently, that it had been anticipated by the British +Empire, the French Republic, and the Kingdoms of Italy, Japan, +and Serbia) actually succeeded in closing a church at Forest Hill +in which God was worshipped in the German language. One would +have supposed that this grotesque outrage on the commonest +decencies of religion would have provoked a remonstrance from +even the worldliest bench of bishops. But no: apparently it +seemed to the bishops as natural that the House of God should be +looted when He allowed German to be spoken in it as that a +baker's shop with a German name over the door should be pillaged. +Their verdict was, in effect, "Serve God right, for creating the +Germans!" The incident would have been impossible in a country +where the Church was as powerful as the Church of England, had it +had at the same time a spark of catholic as distinguished from +tribal religion in it. As it is, the thing occurred; and as far +as I have observed, the only people who gasped were the +Freethinkers. Thus we see that even among men who make a +profession of religion the great majority are as Martian as the +majority of their congregations. The average clergyman is an +official who makes his living by christening babies, marrying +adults, conducting a ritual, and making the best he can (when he +has any conscience about it) of a certain routine of school +superintendence, district visiting, and organization of +almsgiving, which does not necessarily touch Christianity at any +point except the point of the tongue. The exceptional or +religious clergyman may be an ardent Pauline salvationist, in +which case his more cultivated parishioners dislike him, and say +that he ought to have joined the Methodists. Or he may be an +artist expressing religious emotion without intellectual +definition by means of poetry, music, vestments and architecture, +also producing religious ecstacy by physical expedients, such as +fasts and vigils, in which case he is denounced as a Ritualist. +Or he may be either a Unitarian Deist like Voltaire or Tom Paine, +or the more modern sort of Anglican Theosophist to whom the Holy +Ghost is the Elan Vital of Bergson, and the Father and Son are an +expression of the fact that our functions and aspects are +manifold, and that we are all sons and all either potential or +actual parents, in which case he is strongly suspected by the +straiter Salvationists of being little better than an Atheist. +All these varieties, you see, excite remark. They may be very +popular with their congregations; but they are regarded by the +average man as the freaks of the Church. The Church, like the +society of which it is an organ, is balanced and steadied by the +great central Philistine mass above whom theology looms as a +highly spoken of and doubtless most important thing, like Greek +Tragedy, or classical music, or the higher mathematics, but who +are very glad when church is over and they can go home to lunch +or dinner, having in fact, for all practical purposes, no +reasoned convictions at all, and being equally ready to persecute +a poor Freethinker for saying that St. James was not infallible, +and to send one of the Peculiar People to prison for being so +very peculiar as to take St. James seriously. + +In short, a Christian martyr was thrown to the lions not because +he was a Christian, but because he was a crank: that is, an +unusual sort of person. And multitudes of people, quite as +civilized and amiable as we, crowded to see the lions eat him +just as they now crowd the lion-house in the Zoo at feeding-time, +not because they really cared two-pence about Diana or Christ, or +could have given you any intelligent or correct account of the +things Diana and Christ stood against one another for, but simply +because they wanted to see a curious and exciting spectacle. You, +dear reader, have probably run to see a fire; and if somebody +came in now and told you that a lion was chasing a man down the +street you would rush to the window. And if anyone were to say +that you were as cruel as the people who let the lion loose on +the man, you would be justly indignant. Now that we may no longer +see a man hanged, we assemble outside the jail to see the black +flag run up. That is our duller method of enjoying ourselves in +the old Roman spirit. And if the Government decided to throw +persons of unpopular or eccentric views to the lions in the +Albert Hall or the Earl's Court stadium tomorrow, can you doubt +that all the seats would be crammed, mostly by people who could +not give you the most superficial account of the views +in question. Much less unlikely things have happened. It is true +that if such a revival does take place soon, the martyrs will not +be members of heretical religious sects: they will be Peculiars, +Anti-Vivisectionists, Flat-Earth men, scoffers at the +laboratories, or infidels who refuse to kneel down when a +procession of doctors goes by. But the lions will hurt them just +as much, and the spectators will enjoy themselves just as much, +as the Roman lions and spectators used to do. + +It was currently reported in the Berlin newspapers that when +Androcles was first performed in Berlin, the Crown Prince rose +and left the house, unable to endure the (I hope) very clear and +fair exposition of autocratic Imperialism given by the Roman +captain to his Christian prisoners. No English Imperialist was +intelligent and earnest enough to do the same in London. If the +report is correct, I confirm the logic of the Crown Prince, and +am glad to find myself so well understood. But I can assure him +that the Empire which served for my model when I wrote Androcles +was, as he is now finding to his cost, much nearer my home than +the German one. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Androcles and the Lion, +by George Bernard Shaw + diff --git a/old/ndrcl10.zip b/old/ndrcl10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3fef49c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ndrcl10.zip |