Books: Androcles and the Lion
G >>
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW >> Androcles and the Lion
METELLUS. Awful brutes. If you knew as much about them as I do
you wouldn't want to chaff them. Leave them to the lions.
LENTULUS (indicating Lavinia, who is still looking towards the
arches after the captain). That woman's got a figure. (He walks
past her, staring at her invitingly, but she is preoccupied and
is not conscious of him). Do you turn the other cheek when they
kiss you?
LAVINIA (starting) What?
LENTULus. Do you turn the other cheek when they kiss you,
fascinating Christian?
LAVINIA. Don't be foolish. (To Metellus, who has remained on her
right, so that she is between them) Please don't let your friend
behave like a cad before the soldiers. How are they to respect
and obey patricians if they see them behaving like street boys?
(Sharply to Lentulus) Pull yourself together, man. Hold your head
up. Keep the corners of your mouth firm; and treat me
respectfully. What do you take me for?
LENTULUS (irresolutely) Look here, you know: I--you--I--
LAVINIA. Stuff! Go about your business. (She turns decisively
away and sits down with her comrades, leaving him disconcerted).
METELLUS. You didn't get much out of that. I told you they were
brutes.
LENTULUS. Plucky little filly! I suppose she thinks I care. (With
an air of indifference he strolls with Metellus to the east side
of the square, where they stand watching the return of the
Centurion through the western arch with his men, escorting three
prisoners: Ferrovius, Androcles, and Spintho. Ferrovius is a
powerful, choleric man in the prime of life, with large nostrils,
staring eyes, and a thick neck: a man whose sensibilities are
keen and violent to the verge of madness. Spintho is a debauchee,
the wreck of a good-looking man gone hopelessly to the bad.
Androcles is overwhelmed with grief, and is restraining his tears
with great difficulty).
THE CENTURION (to Lavinia) Here are some pals for you. This
little bit is Ferrovius that you talk so much about. (Ferrovius
turns on him threateningly. The Centurion holds up his left
forefinger in admonition). Now remember that you're a Christian,
and that you've got to return good for evil. (Ferrovius controls
himself convulsively; moves away from temptation to the east side
near Lentulus; clasps his hands in silent prayer; and throws
himself on his knees). That's the way to manage them, eh! This
fine fellow (indicating Androcles, who comes to his left, and
makes Lavinia a heartbroken salutation) is a sorcerer. A Greek
tailor, he is. A real sorcerer, too: no mistake about it. The
tenth marches with a leopard at the head of the column. He made a
pet of the leopard; and now he's crying at being parted from it.
(Androcles sniffs lamentably). Ain't you, old chap? Well, cheer
up, we march with a Billy goat (Androcles brightens up) that's
killed two leopards and ate a turkey-cock. You can have him for a
pet if you like. (Androcles, quite consoled, goes past the
Centurion to Lavinia, and sits down contentedly on the ground on
her left). This dirty dog (collaring Spintho) is a real
Christian. He mobs the temples, he does (at each accusation he
gives the neck of Spintho's tunic a twist); he goes smashing
things mad drunk, he does; he steals the gold vessels, he does;
he assaults the priestesses, he does pah! (He flings Spintho into
the middle of the group of prisoners). You're the sort that makes
duty a pleasure, you are.
SPINTHO (gasping) That's it: strangle me. Kick me. Beat me.
Revile me. Our Lord was beaten and reviled. That's my way to
heaven. Every martyr goes to heaven, no matter what he's done.
That is so, isn't it, brother?
CENTURION. Well, if you're going to heaven, _I_ don't want to go
there. I wouldn't be seen with you.
LENTULUS. Haw! Good! (Indicating the kneeling Ferrovius). Is this
one of the turn-the-other-cheek gentlemen, Centurion?
CENTURION. Yes, sir. Lucky for you too, sir, if you want to take
any liberties with him.
LENTULUS (to Ferrovius) You turn the other cheek when you're
struck, I'm told.
FERROVIUS (slowly turning his great eyes on him) Yes, by the
grace of God, I do, NOW.
LENTULUS. Not that you're a coward, of course; but out of pure
piety.
FERROVIUS. I fear God more than man; at least I try to.
LENTULUS. Let's see. (He strikes him on the cheek. Androcles
makes a wild movement to rise and interfere; but Lavinia holds
him down, watching Ferrovius intently. Ferrovius, without
flinching, turns the other cheek. Lentulus, rather out of
countenance, titters foolishly, and strikes him again feebly).
You know, I should feel ashamed if I let myself be struck like
that, and took it lying down. But then I'm not a Christian: I'm a
man. (Ferrovius rises impressively and towers over him. Lentulus
becomes white with terror; and a shade of green flickers in his
cheek for a moment).
FERROVIUS (with the calm of a steam hammer) I have not always
been faithful. The first man who struck me as you have just
struck me was a stronger man than you: he hit me harder than I
expected. I was tempted and fell; and it was then that I first
tasted bitter shame. I never had a happy moment after that until
I had knelt and asked his forgiveness by his bedside in the
hospital. (Putting his hands on Lentulus's shoulders with
paternal weight). But now I have learnt to resist with a strength
that is not my own. I am not ashamed now, nor angry.
LENTULUS (uneasily) Er--good evening. (He tries to move away).
FERROVIUS (gripping his shoulders) Oh, do not harden your heart,
young man. Come: try for yourself whether our way is not better
than yours. I will now strike you on one cheek; and you will turn
the other and learn how much better you will feel than if you
gave way to the promptings of anger. (He holds him with one hand
and clenches the other fist).
LENTULUS. Centurion: I call on you to protect me.
CENTURION. You asked for it, sir. It's no business of ours.
You've had two whacks at him. Better pay him a trifle and square
it that way.
LENTULUS. Yes, of course. (To Ferrovius) It was only a bit of
fun, I assure you: I meant no harm. Here. (He proffers a gold
coin).
FERROVIUS (taking it and throwing it to the old beggar, who
snatches it up eagerly, and hobbles off to spend it) Give all
thou hast to the poor. Come, friend: courage! I may hurt your
body for a moment; but your soul will rejoice in the victory of
the spirit over the flesh. (He prepares to strike).
ANDROCLES. Easy, Ferrovius, easy: you broke the last man's jaw.
Lentulus, with a moan of terror, attempts to fly; but Ferrovius
holds him ruthlessly.
FERROVIUS. Yes; but I saved his soul. What matters a broken jaw?
LENTULUS. Don't touch me, do you hear? The law--
FERROVIUS. The law will throw me to the lions tomorrow: what
worse could it do were I to slay you? Pray for strength; and it
shall be given to you.
LENTULUS. Let me go. Your religion forbids you to strike me.
FERROVIUS. On the contrary, it commands me to strike you. How can
you turn the other cheek, if you are not first struck on the one
cheek?
LENTULUS (almost in tears) But I'm convinced already that what
you said is quite right. I apologize for striking you.
FERROVIUS (greatly pleased) My son: have I softened your heart?
Has the good seed fallen in a fruitful place? Are your feet
turning towards a better path?
LENTULUS (abjectly) Yes, yes. There's a great deal in what you
say.
FERROVIUS (radiant) Join us. Come to the lions. Come to suffering
and death.
LENTULUS (falling on his knees and bursting into tears) Oh, help
me. Mother! mother!
FERROVIUS. These tears will water your soul and make it bring
forth good fruit, my son. God has greatly blessed my efforts at
conversion. Shall I tell you a miracle--yes, a miracle--wrought
by me in Cappadocia? A young man--just such a one as you, with
golden hair like yours--scoffed at and struck me as you scoffed
at and struck me. I sat up all night with that youth wrestling
for his soul; and in the morning not only was he a Christian, but
his hair was as white as snow. (Lentulus falls in a dead faint).
There, there: take him away. The spirit has overwrought him, poor
lad. Carry him gently to his house; and leave the rest to heaven.
CENTURION. Take him home. (The servants, intimidated, hastily
carry him out. Metellus is about to follow when Ferrovius lays
his hand on his shoulder).
FERROVIUS. You are his friend, young man. You will see that he
is taken safely home.
METELLUS (with awestruck civility) Certainly, sir. I shall do
whatever you think best. Most happy to have made your
acquaintance, I'm sure. You may depend on me. Good evening, sir.
FERROVIUS (with unction) The blessing of heaven upon you and him.
Metellus follows Lentulus. The Centurion returns to his seat to
resume his interrupted nap. The deepest awe has settled on the
spectators. Ferrovius, with a long sigh of happiness, goes to
Lavinia, and offers her his hand.
LAVINIA (taking it) So that is how you convert people, Ferrovius.
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.
SPINTHO (rising and running about in abject terror) I never
thought of that. O Lord, spare me to be martyred. Oh, what a
thought to put into the mind of a brother! Oh, let me be martyred
today, now. I shall die in the night and go to hell. You're a
sorcerer: you've put death into my mind. Oh, curse you, curse
you! (He tries to seize Androcles by the throat).
FERROVIUS (holding him in a grip of iron) What's this, brother?
Anger! Violence! Raising your hand to a brother Christian!
SPINTHO. It's easy for you. You're strong. Your nerves are all
right. But I'm full of disease. (Ferrovius takes his hand from
him with instinctive disgust). I've drunk all my nerves away. I
shall have the horrors all night.
ANDROCLES (sympathetic) Oh, don't take on so, brother. We're all
sinners.
SPINTHO (snivelling, trying to feel consoled). Yes: I daresay if
the truth were known, you're all as bad as I am.
LAVINIA (contemptuously) Does THAT comfort you?
FERROVIUS (sternly) Pray, man, pray.
SPINTHO. What's the good of praying? If we're martyred we shall
go to heaven, shan't we, whether we pray or not?
FERROVIUS. What's that? Not pray! (Seizing him again) Pray this
instant, you dog, you rotten hound, you slimy snake, you beastly
goat, or--
SPINTHO. Yes: beat me: kick me. I forgive you: mind that.
FERROVIUS (spurning him with loathing) Yah! (Spintho reels away
and falls in front of Ferrovius).
ANDROCLES (reaching out and catching the skirt of Ferrovius's
tunic) Dear brother: if you wouldn't mind--just for my sake--
FERROVIUS. Well?
ANDROCLES. Don't call him by the names of the animals. We've no
right to. I've had such friends in dogs. A pet snake is the best
of company. I was nursed on goat's milk. Is it fair to them to
call the like of him a dog or a snake or a goat?
FERROVIUS. I only meant that they have no souls.
ANDROCLES (anxiously protesting) Oh, believe me, they have. Just
the same as you and me. I really don't think I could consent to
go to heaven if I thought there were to be no animals there.
Think of what they suffer here.
FERROVIUS. That's true. Yes: that is just. They will have their
share in heaven.
SPINTHO (who has picked himself up and is sneaking past Ferrovius
on his left, sneers derisively)!!
FERROVIUS (turning on him fiercely) What's that you say?
SPINTHO (cornering). Nothing.
FERROVIUS (clenching his fist) Do animals go to heaven or not?
SPINTHO. I never said they didn't.
FERROVIUS (implacable) Do they or do they not?
SPINTHO. They do: they do. (Scrambling out of Ferrovius's reach).
Oh, curse you for frightening me!
A bugle call is heard.
CENTURION (waking up) Tention! Form as before. Now then,
prisoners, up with you and trot along spry. (The soldiers fall
in. The Christians rise).
A man with an ox goad comes running through the central arch.
THE OX DRIVER. Here, you soldiers! clear out of the way for the
Emperor.
THE CENTURION. Emperor! Where's the Emperor? You ain't the
Emperor, are you?
THE OX DRIVER. It's the menagerie service. My team of oxen is
drawing the new lion to the Coliseum. You clear the road.
CENTURION. What! Go in after you in your dust, with half the town
at the heels of you and your lion! Not likely. We go first.
THE OX DRIVER. The menagerie service is the Emperor's personal
retinue. You clear out, I tell you.
CENTURION. You tell me, do you? Well, I'll tell you something. If
the lion is menagerie service, the lion's dinner is menagerie
service too. This (pointing to the Christians) is the lion's
dinner. So back with you to your bullocks double quick; and learn
your place. March. (The soldiers start). Now then, you
Christians, step out there.
LAVINIA (marching) Come along, the rest of the dinner. I shall be
the olives and anchovies.
ANOTHER CHRISTIAN (laughing) I shall be the soup.
ANOTHER. I shall be the fish.
ANOTHER. Ferrovius shall be the roast boar.
FERROVIUS (heavily) I see the joke. Yes, yes: I shall be the
roast boar. Ha! ha! (He laughs conscientiously and marches out
with them).
ANDROCLES. I shall be the mince pie. (Each announcement 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 would kill a man worth perhaps fifty talents to please
the riffraff? I should like to catch any of my men at it.
SPINTHO. I thought--
THE EDITOR (contemptuously) You thought! Who cares what you
think? YOU'LL be killed all right enough.
SPINTHO (groans and again hides his face)!!! Then is nobody ever
killed except us poor--
LAVINIA. Christians?
THE EDITOR. If the vestal virgins turn down their thumbs, that's
another matter. They're ladies of rank.
LAVINIA. Does the Emperor ever interfere?
THE EDITOR. Oh, yes: he turns his thumbs up fast enough if the
vestal virgins want to have one of his pet fighting men killed.
ANDROCLES. But don't they ever just only pretend to kill one
another? Why shouldn't you pretend to die, and get dragged out as
if you were dead; and then get up and go home, like an actor?
THE EDITOR. See here: you want to know too much. There will be no
pretending about the new lion: let that be enough for you. He's
hungry.
SPINTHO (groaning with horror) Oh, Lord! Can't you stop talking
about it? Isn't it bad enough for us without that?
ANDROCLES. I'm glad he's hungry. Not that I want him to suffer,
poor chap! but then he'll enjoy eating me so much more. There's a
cheerful side to everything.
THE EDITOR (rising and striding over to Androcles) Here: don't
you be obstinate. Come with me and drop the pinch of incense on
the altar. That's all you need do to be let off.
ANDROCLES. No: thank you very much indeed; but I really mustn't.
THE EDITOR. What! Not to save your life?
ANDROCLES. I'd rather not. I couldn't sacrifice to Diana: she's a
huntress, you know, and kills things.
THE EDITOR. That don't matter. You can choose your own altar.
Sacrifice to Jupiter: he likes animals: he turns himself into an
animal when he goes off duty.
ANDROCLES. No: it's very kind of you; but I feel I can't save
myself that way.
THE EDITOR. But I don't ask you to do it to save yourself: I ask
you to do it to oblige me personally.
ANDROCLES (scrambling up in the greatest agitation) Oh, please
don't say that. That is dreadful. You mean so kindly by me that
it seems quite horrible to disoblige you. If you could arrange
for me to sacrifice when there's nobody looking, I shouldn't
mind. But I must go into the arena with the rest. My honor, you
know.
THE EDITOR. Honor! The honor of a tailor?
ANDROCLES (apologetically) Well, perhaps honor is too strong an
expression. Still, you know, I couldn't allow 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 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.