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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Androcles and the Lion</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: George Bernard Shaw</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 5, 2001 [eBook #4003]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 22, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Eve Sobol. 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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