LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished. Praise be to God’s justice! ANDROCLES. The poor beast was starving. It couldn’t help itself. THE CHRISTIANS. What! Ate him! How frightful! How terrible! Without a moment to repent! God be merciful to him, a sinner! Oh, I can’t bear to think of it! In the midst of his sin! Horrible, horrible! THE EDITOR. Serve the rotter right! THE GLADIATORS. Just walked into it, he did. He’s martyred all right enough. Good old lion! Old Jock doesn’t like that: look at his face. Devil a better! The Emperor will laugh when he hears of it. I can’t help smiling. Ha ha ha!!!!! THE KEEPER. Now his appetite’s taken off, he won’t as much as look at another Christian for a week. ANDROCLES. Couldn’t you have saved him brother? THE KEEPER. Saved him! Saved him from a lion that I’d just got mad with hunger! a wild one that came out of the forest not four weeks ago! He bolted him before you could say Balbus. LAVINIA. (_sitting down again_) Poor Spintho! And it won’t even count as martyrdom! THE KEEPER. Serve him right! What call had he to walk down the throat of one of my lions before he was asked? ANDROCLES. Perhaps the lion won’t eat me now. THE KEEPER. Yes: that’s just like a Christian: think only of yourself! What am I to do? What am I to say to the Emperor when he sees one of my lions coming into the arena half asleep? THE EDITOR. Say nothing. Give your old lion some bitters and a morsel of fried fish to wake up his appetite. (_Laughter_). THE KEEPER. Yes: it’s easy for you to talk; but— THE EDITOR. (_scrambling to his feet_) Sh! Attention there! The Emperor. (_The Keeper bolts precipitately into the passage. The gladiators rise smartly and form into line_). The Emperor enters on the Christians’ side, conversing with Metellus, and followed by his suite. THE GLADIATORS. Hail, Caesar! those about to die salute thee. CAESAR. Good morrow, friends. _Metellus shakes hands with the Editor, who accepts his condescension with bluff respect._ LAVINIA. Blessing, Caesar, and forgiveness! CAESAR. (_turning in some surprise at the salutation_) There is no forgiveness for Christianity. LAVINIA. I did not mean that, Caesar. I mean that we forgive you. METELLUS. An inconceivable liberty! Do you not know, woman, that the Emperor can do no wrong and therefore cannot be forgiven? LAVINIA. I expect the Emperor knows better. Anyhow, we forgive him. THE CHRISTIANS. Amen! CAESAR. Metellus: you see now the disadvantage of too much severity. These people have no hope; therefore they have nothing to restrain them from saying what they like to me. They are almost as impertinent as the gladiators. Which is the Greek sorcerer? ANDROCLES. (_humbly touching his forelock_) Me, your Worship. CAESAR. My Worship! Good! A new title. Well, what miracles can you perform? ANDROCLES. I can cure warts by rubbing them with my tailor’s chalk; and I can live with my wife without beating her. CAESAR. Is that all?