FERROVIUS. Yes: there has been a blessing on my work in spite of my unworthiness and my backslidings—all through my wicked, devilish temper. This man— ANDROCLES. (_hastily_) Don’t slap me on the back, brother. She knows you mean me. FERROVIUS. How I wish I were weak like our brother here! for then I should perhaps be meek and gentle like him. And yet there seems to be a special providence that makes my trials less than his. I hear tales of the crowd scoffing and casting stones and reviling the brethren; but when I come, all this stops: my influence calms the passions of the mob: they listen to me in silence; and infidels are often converted by a straight heart-to-heart talk with me. Every day I feel happier, more confident. Every day lightens the load of the great terror. LAVINIA. The great terror? What is that? _Ferrovius shakes his head and does not answer. He sits down beside her on her left, and buries his face in his hands in gloomy meditation._ ANDROCLES. Well, you see, sister, he’s never quite sure of himself. Suppose at the last moment in the arena, with the gladiators there to fight him, one of them was to say anything to annoy him, he might forget himself and lay that gladiator out. LAVINIA. That would be splendid. FERROVIUS. (_springing up in horror_) What! ANDROCLES. Oh, sister! FERROVIUS. Splendid to betray my master, like Peter! Splendid to act like any common blackguard in the day of my proving! Woman: you are no Christian. (_He moves away from her to the middle of the square, as if her neighborhood contaminated him_). LAVINIA. (_laughing_) You know, Ferrovius, I am not always a Christian. I don’t think anybody is. There are moments when I forget all about it, and something comes out quite naturally, as it did then. SPINTHO. What does it matter? If you die in the arena, you’ll be a martyr; and all martyrs go to heaven, no matter what they have done. That’s so, isn’t it, Ferrovius? FERROVIUS. Yes: that is so, if we are faithful to the end. LAVINIA. I’m not so sure. SPINTHO. Don’t say that. That’s blasphemy. Don’t say that, I tell you. We shall be saved, no matter WHAT we do. LAVINIA. Perhaps you men will all go into heaven bravely and in triumph, with your heads erect and golden trumpets sounding for you. But I am sure I shall only be allowed to squeeze myself in through a little crack in the gate after a great deal of begging. I am not good always: I have moments only. SPINTHO. You’re talking nonsense, woman. I tell you, martyrdom pays all scores. ANDROCLES. Well, let us hope so, brother, for your sake. You’ve had a gay time, haven’t you? with your raids on the temples. I can’t help thinking that heaven will be very dull for a man of your temperament. (_Spintho snarls_). Don’t be angry: I say it only to console you in case you should die in your bed tonight in the natural way. There’s a lot of plague about.