Androcles and the Lion Part 7

SECUTOR (indignantly) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not?

CAESAR. It is a dusty one, my friend. (Obsequious laughter). Be on your guard next time.

SECUTOR. Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I'll throw my sword at his heels and strangle him with his own net before he can hop off. (To Retiarius) You see if I don't. (He goes out past the gladiators, sulky and furious).

CAESAR (to the chuckling Retiarius). These tricks are not wise, my friend. The audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty and splendor. If you smudge his face and spoil his armor they will show their displeasure by not letting you kill him. And when your turn comes, they will remember it against you and turn their thumbs down.

THE RETIARIUS. Perhaps that is why I did it, Caesar. He bet me ten sesterces that he would vanquish me. If I had had to kill him I should not have had the money.

CAESAR (indulgent, laughing) You rogues: there is no end to your tricks. I'll dismiss you all and have elephants to fight. They fight fairly. (He goes up to his box, and knocks at it. It is opened from within by the Captain, who stands as on parade to let him pa.s.s). The Call Boy comes from the pa.s.sage, followed by three attendants carrying respectively a bundle of swords, some helmets, and some breastplates and pieces of armor which they throw down in a heap.

THE CALL BOY. By your leave, Caesar. Number eleven! Gladiators and Christians!

Ferrovius springs up, ready for martyrdom. The other Christians take the summons as best they can, some joyful and brave, some patient and dignified, some tearful and helpless, some embracing one another with emotion. The Call Boy goes back into the pa.s.sage.

CAESAR (turning at the door of the box) The hour has come, Ferrovius. I shall go into my box and see you killed, since you scorn the Pretorian Guard. (He goes into the box. The Captain shuts the door, remaining inside with the Emperor. Metellus and the rest of the suite disperse to their seats. The Christians, led by Ferrovius, move towards the pa.s.sage).

LAVINIA (to Ferrovius) Farewell.

THE EDITOR. Steady there. You Christians have got to fight. Here!

arm yourselves.

FERROVIUS (picking up a sword) I'll die sword in hand to show people that I could fight if it were my Master's will, and that I could kill the man who kills me if I chose.

THE EDITOR. Put on that armor.

FERROVIUS. No armor.

THE EDITOR (bullying him) Do what you're told. Put on that armor.

FERROVIUS (gripping the sword and looking dangerous) I said, No armor.

THE EDITOR. And what am I to say when I am accused of sending a naked man in to fight my men in armor?

FERROVIUS. Say your prayers, brother; and have no fear of the princes of this world.

THE EDITOR. Tsha! You obstinate fool! (He bites his lips irresolutely, not knowing exactly what to do).

ANDROCLES (to Ferrovius) Farewell, brother, till we meet in the sweet by-and-by.

THE EDITOR (to Androcles) You are going too. Take a sword there; and put on any armor you can find to fit you.

ANDROCLES. No, really: I can't fight: I never could. I can't bring myself to dislike anyone enough. I'm to be thrown to the lions with the lady.

THE EDITOR. Then get out of the way and hold your noise.

(Androcles steps aside with cheerful docility). Now then! Are you all ready there? A trumpet is heard from the arena.

FERROVIUS (starting convulsively) Heaven give me strength!

THE EDITOR. Aha! That frightens you, does it?

FERROVIUS. Man: there is no terror like the terror of that sound to me. When I hear a trumpet or a drum or the clash of steel or the hum of the catapult as the great stone flies, fire runs through my veins: I feel my blood surge up hot behind my eyes: I must charge: I must strike: I must conquer: Caesar himself will not be safe in his imperial seat if once that spirit gets loose in me. Oh, brothers, pray! exhort me! remind me that if I raise my sword my honor falls and my Master is crucified afresh.

ANDROCLES. Just keep thinking how cruelly you might hurt the poor gladiators.

FERROVIUS. It does not hurt a man to kill him.

LAVINIA. Nothing but faith can save you.

FERROVIUS. Faith! Which faith? There are two faiths. There is our faith. And there is the warrior's faith, the faith in fighting, the faith that sees G.o.d in the sword. How if that faith should overwhelm me?

LAVINIA. You will find your real faith in the hour of trial.

FERROVIUS. That is what I fear. I know that I am a fighter. How can I feel sure that I am a Christian?

ANDROCLES. Throw away the sword, brother.

FERROVIUS. I cannot. It cleaves to my hand. I could as easily throw a woman I loved from my arms. (Starting) Who spoke that blasphemy? Not I.

LAVINIA. I can't help you, friend. I can't tell you not to save your own life. Something wilful in me wants to see you fight your way into heaven.

FERROVIUS. Ha!

ANDROCLES. But if you are going to give up our faith, brother, why not do it without hurting anybody? Don't fight them. Burn the incense.

FERROVIUS. Burn the incense! Never.

LAVINIA. That is only pride, Ferrovius.

FERROVIUS. ONLY pride! What is n.o.bler than pride? (Conscience stricken) Oh, I'm steeped in sin. I'm proud of my pride.

LAVINIA. They say we Christians are the proudest devils on earth--that only the weak are meek. Oh, I am worse than you. I ought to send you to death; and I am tempting you.

ANDROCLES. Brother, brother: let THEM rage and kill: let US be brave and suffer. You must go as a lamb to the slaughter.

FERROVIUS. Aye, aye: that is right. Not as a lamb is slain by the butcher; but as a butcher might let himself be slain by a (looking at the Editor) by a silly ram whose head he could fetch off in one twist.

Before the Editor can retort, the Call Boy rushes up through the pa.s.sage; and the Captain comes from the Emperor's box and descends the steps.

THE CALL BOY. In with you: into the arena. The stage is waiting.

THE CAPTAIN. The Emperor is waiting. (To the Editor) What are you dreaming of, man? Send your men in at once.

THE EDITOR. Yes, Sir: it's these Christians hanging back.

FERROVIUS (in a voice of thunder) Liar!

THE EDITOR (not heeding him) March. (The gladiators told off to fight with the Christians march down the pa.s.sage) Follow up there, you.