nt is
received with a louder laugh by all the rest as the joke catches
on).

CENTURION (scandalised) Silence! Have some sense of your
situation. Is this the way for martyrs to behave? (To Spintho,
who is quaking and loitering) I know what YOU'LL be at that
dinner. You'll be the emetic. (He shoves him rudely along).

SPINTHO. It's too dreadful: I'm not fit to die.

CENTURION. Fitter than you are to live, you swine.

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.

ACT II

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.

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.

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 (Retiarius) is a nearly naked man with a net and a
trident. Another (Secutor) 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.

The Call Boy enters from the passage.

THE CALL Boy. Number six. Retiarius versus Secutor.

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.

LAVINIA. Will they really kill one another?

SPINTHO. Yes, if the people turn down their thumbs.

THE EDITOR. You know nothing about it. The people indeed! Do you
suppose we woul