ANDROCLES. You don’t know her, Caesar, or you wouldn’t say that. CAESAR. Ah, well, my friend, we shall no doubt contrive a happy release for you. Which is Ferrovius? FERROVIUS. I am he. CAESAR. They tell me you can fight. FERROVIUS. It is easy to fight. I can die, Caesar. CAESAR. That is still easier, is it not? FERROVIUS. Not to me, Caesar. Death comes hard to my flesh; and fighting comes very easily to my spirit (_beating his breast and lamenting_) O sinner that I am! (_He throws himself down on the steps, deeply discouraged_). CAESAR. Metellus: I should like to have this man in the Pretorian Guard. METELLUS. I should not, Caesar. He looks a spoilsport. There are men in whose presence it is impossible to have any fun: men who are a sort of walking conscience. He would make us all uncomfortable. CAESAR. For that reason, perhaps, it might be well to have him. An Emperor can hardly have too many consciences. (_To Ferrovius_) Listen, Ferrovius. (_Ferrovius shakes his head and will not look up_). You and your friends shall not be outnumbered to-day in the arena. You shall have arms; and there will be no more than one gladiator to each Christian. If you come out of the arena alive, I will consider favorably any request of yours, and give you a place in the Pretorian Guard. Even if the request be that no questions be asked about your faith I shall perhaps not refuse it. FERROVIUS. I will not fight. I will die. Better stand with the archangels than with the Pretorian Guard. CAESAR. I cannot believe that the archangels—whoever they may be—would not prefer to be recruited from the Pretorian Guard. However, as you please. Come: let us see the show. _As the Court ascends the steps, Secutor and the Retiarius return from the arena through the passage; Secutor covered with dust and very angry: Retiarius grinning._ SECUTOR. Ha, the Emperor. Now we shall see. Caesar: I ask you whether it is fair for the Retiarius, instead of making a fair throw of his net at me, to swish it along the ground and throw the dust in my eyes, and then catch me when I’m blinded. If the vestals had not turned up their thumbs I should have been a dead man. CAESAR. (_halting on the stair_) There is nothing in the rules against it. SECUTOR. (_indignantly_) Caesar: is it a dirty trick or is it not? CAESAR. It is a dusty one, my friend. (_Obsequious laughter_). Be on your guard next time. SECUTOR. Let HIM be on his guard. Next time I’ll throw my sword at his heels and strangle him with his own net before he can hop off. (_To Retiarius_) You see if I don’t. (_He goes out past the gladiators, sulky and furious_). CAESAR. (_to the chuckling Retiarius_). These tricks are not wise, my friend. The audience likes to see a dead man in all his beauty and splendor. If you smudge his face and spoil his armor they will show their displeasure by not letting you kill him. And when your turn comes, they will remember it against you and turn their thumbs down.