ow the tailors to get
a bad name through me.

THE EDITOR. How much will you remember of all that when you smell
the beast's breath and see his jaws opening to tear out your
throat?

SPINTHO (rising with a yell of terror) I can't bear it. Where's
the altar? I'll sacrifice.

FERROVIUS. Dog of an apostate. Iscariot!

SPINTHO. I'll repent afterwards. I fully mean to die in the arena
I'll die a martyr and go to heaven; but not this time, not now,
not until my nerves are better. Besides, I'm too young: I want to
have just one more good time. (The gladiators laugh at him). Oh,
will no one tell me where the altar is? (He dashes into the
passage and vanishes).

ANDROCLES (to the Editor, pointing after Spintho) Brother: I
can't do that, not even to oblige you. Don't ask me.

THE EDITOR. Well, if you're determined to die, I can't help you.
But I wouldn't be put off by a swine like that.

FERROVIUS. Peace, peace: tempt him not. Get thee behind him,
Satan.

THE EDITOR (flushing with rage) For two pins I'd take a turn in
the arena myself to-day, and pay you out for daring to talk to me
like that.

Ferrovius springs forward.

LAVINIA (rising quickly and interposing) Brother, brother: you
forget.

FERROVIUS (curbing himself by a mighty effort) Oh, my temper, my
wicked temper! (To the Editor, as Lavinia sits down again,
reassured). Forgive me, brother. My heart was full of wrath: I
should have been thinking of your dear precious soul.

THE EDITOR. Yah! (He turns his back on Ferrovius contemptuously,
and goes back to his seat).

FERROVIUS (continuing) And I forgot it all: I thought of nothing
but offering to fight you with one hand tied behind me.

THE EDITOR (turning pugnaciously) What!

FERROVIUS (on the border line between zeal and ferocity) Oh,
don't give way to pride and wrath, brother. I could do it so
easily. I could--

They are separated by the Menagerie Keeper, who rushes in from
the passage, furious.

THE KEEPER. Here's a nice business! Who let that Christian out of
here down to the dens when we were changing the lion into the
cage next the arena?

THE EDITOR. Nobody let him. He let himself.

THE KEEPER. Well, the lion's ate him.

Consternation. The Christians rise, greatly agitated. The
gladiators sit callously, but are highly amused. All speak or cry
out or laugh at once. Tumult.

LAVINIA. Oh, poor wretch! FERROVIUS. The apostate has perished.
Praise be to God's justice! ANDROCLES. The poor be