). If that will not move them, bring the
hot irons. The man is like a mountain. (He returns angrily into
the box and slams the door).

The Call Boy returns with a man in a hideous Etruscan mask,
carrying a whip. They both rush down the passage into the arena.

LAVINIA (rising) Oh, that is unworthy. Can they not kill him
without dishonoring him?

ANDROCLES (scrambling to his feet and running into the middle of
the space between the staircases) It's dreadful. Now I want to
fight. I can't bear the sight of a whip. The only time I ever hit
a man was when he lashed an old horse with a whip. It was
terrible: I danced on his face when he was on the ground. He
mustn't strike Ferrovius: I'll go into the arena and kill him
first. (He makes a wild dash into the passage. As he does so a
great clamor is heard from the arena, ending in wild applause.
The gladiators listen and look inquiringly at one another).

THE EDITOR. What's up now?

LAVINIA (to the Captain) What has happened, do you think?

THE CAPTAIN. What CAN happen? They are killing them, I suppose.

ANDROCLES (running in through the passage, screaming with horror
and hiding his eyes)!!!

LAVINIA. Androcles, Androcles: what's the matter?

ANDROCLES. Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me. Something too
dreadful. Oh! (He crouches by her and hides his face in her robe,
sobbing).

THE CALL Boy (rushing through from the passage as before) Ropes
and hooks there! Ropes and hooks.

THE EDITOR. Well, need you excite yourself about it? (Another
burst of applause).

Two slaves in Etruscan masks, with ropes and drag hooks, hurry
in.

ONE OF THE SLAVES. How many dead?

THE CALL Boy. Six. (The slave blows a whistle twice; and four
more masked slaves rush through into the arena with the same
apparatus) And the basket. Bring the baskets. (The slave whistles
three times, and runs through the passage with his companion).

THE CAPTAIN. Who are the baskets for?

THE CALL Boy. For the whip. He's in pieces. They're all in
pieces, more or less. (Lavinia hides her face).

(Two more masked slaves come in with a basket and follow the
others into the arena, as the Call Boy turns to the gladiators
and exclaims, exhausted) Boys, he's killed the lot.

THE EMPEROR (again bursting from his box, this time in an ecstasy
of delight) Where is he? Magnificent! He shall have a laurel
crown.

Ferrovius, madly waving his bloodstained sword, rushes through
the passage in despair, followed by hi