BERNARD SHAW'S

W

HETHER George Bernard Shaw is really witty in the piece based upon the famous fable of Androcles and the lion from whose paw a thorn was taken so opportunely, or whether he is merely funny is a point regarding which the critics differ to this day. At any rate, Shaw has contrived to create the best animal part on the stage, thinks the London Truth, which immensely admires the way in which the lion does not eat Androcles. The lion in the last act prefers dancing with the tailor who took out that cruel thorn in the first. The pair meet first in a forest, as everybody knows. They meet last in the arena with a Roman Emperor looking on to be thrilled by the spectacle of a tailor devoured for his Christian faith. Shaw's Cæsar, notes the British periodical already named, found it much more interesting to see a lion dance on his hind legs than merely tear Androcles to piecesinteresting that he imprudently came down into the arena and then had to run up and down the staircase which led to his box several times before he consented to appease the lion's and Mr. Shaw's socialistic ideals by embracing Androcles as an equal. However, while London Truth can see no wit in all this, there is to the London Standard-which calls the play an elaborate squib-much wit in the opening scene, introducing Androcles with his wife. We are in a jungle path beset by brambles. Androcles, be it noted, is a small and absurd person, while his wife Megaera is a handsome, pampered slattern. We are permitted to make the ensuing extracts by the kind permission of Everybody's Magazine:

SO

MEGAERA. (Suddenly throwing down her stick.) I won't go another step!

ANDROCLES. (Pleading wearily.) Oh, not again, dear. What's the good of stopping every two miles and saying you won't go another step? We must get on to the next village before night. There are wild beasts in this wood: lions, they say.

MEGAERA. I don't believe a word of it. You are always threatening me with wild beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body when I can hardly drag one foot before another. We haven't seen a single lion yet.

ELABORATE SQUIB OF "ANDROCLES AND THE LION"

his back.) You beast, you don't care how tired I am, or what becomes of me (she throws the bundle on the ground); always thinking of yourself. Self! Self! Self! Always yourself! (She sits down on the bundle.)

ANDROCLES. (Sitting down sadly on the ground, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.) We all have to think of ourselves occasionally, dear. MEGAERA. A man ought to think of his wife sometimes.

ANDROCLES. He can't always help it, dear. You make me think of you a great deal. Not that I blame you.

MEGAERA. Blame me! I should think not indeed. Is it my fault that I'm married to you? ANDROCLES.

No, dear; that is my

fault.
MEGAERA. That's a nice thing to say to
me. Aren't you happy with me?

ANDROCLES. I don't complain, my love. MEGAERA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

ANDROCLES. I am, my dear. MEGAERA. You're not; you glory in it. ANDROCLES. In what, darling? MEGAERA. In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself a laughingstock. It's not fair. You get me the name of being a shrew, with your meek ways and talking as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. And just because I look a big, strong woman, and because I'm good-hearted and a bit hasty, and because you're always driving me to do things I'm sorry for afterward, people say, "Poor man; what a life his wife leads him!" Oh, if they only knew! And you think I don't know. But I do, I do (screaming), I do!

You

ANDROCLES. What can I do, my dear? MEGAERA. What can you do! can return to your duty, and come back to your home and your friends, and sacrifice to the gods as all respectable people do, instead of having us hunted out of house and home for being dirty, disreputable, blaspheming atheists.

ANDROCLES. I'm not an atheist, dear; I am a Christian.

MEGAERA. Well, isn't that the same thing, only ten times worse? Everybody knows that the Christians are the very lowest of the low.

ANDROCLES. I confess I was addicted to it, dear. But I gave it up when I became a Christian.

And

MEGAERA. You'd much better have remained a drunkard. I can forgive a man being addicted to drink; it's only natural; and I don't deny I like a drop myself sometimes. What I can't stand is your being addicted to Christianity. what's worse again, your being addicted to animals. How is any woman to keep her house clean when you bring in every stray cat and lost cur and lame duck in the whole countryside? You took the bread out of my mouth to feed them; you know you did; don't attempt to deny it!

ANDROCLES. gry and you dearie. MEGAERA. Yes, insult me, do. (Rising.) Oh! I won't bear it another moment. You used to sit and talk to those dumb brute beasts for hours, when you hadn't a word for me.

Only when they were hunwere getting too stout,

ANDROCLES. They never answered back, darling. (He rises and again shoulders the bundle.)

MEGAERA. Well, if you're fonder of animals than of your own wife, you can live with them here in the jungle. I've had enough of them and enough of you. I'm going back. I'm going home.

ANDROCLES. (Barring the way back.) No, dearie; don't take on like that. We can't go back. We've sold everything; we should starve; and I should be sent to Rome and thrown to the lions

MEGAERA. Serve you right; I wish the lions joy of you. (Screaming.) Are you going to get out of my way and let me go home?

ANDROCLES. No, dear

MEGAERA. Then I shall make my way through the forest; and when I'm earen by the wild beasts you'll know what a wife you've lost (She dashes into the jungle and nearly falls over the sleeping lion.) Oh! Oh! Andy! Andy! (She totters back and collapses into the arms of Androcles, who, crushed by her weight, falls on his bundle.)

ANDROCLES. (Extracting himself from beneath her and slapping her hands in great anxiety.) What is it, my precious, my pet? What's the matter? (He raises her head.

Speechless with terror, she points in the direction of the sleeping lion. He steals cautiously toward the spot indicated by Megaera. She rises with an effort and totters after him.)

MEGAERA. No, Andy. You'll be killed. Come back.

(The lion utters a long, snoring sigh. Androcles sees the lion and

ing into the arms of Megcoils faint

who falls back on the bundle. They roll apart and lie staring in terror at one another. The

245

lion is heard groaning heavily in the

jungle.) ANDROCLES.

see? A lion.

(Whispering.) Did you

MEGAERA. (Despairing.) The gods have sent him to punish us because you're a Christian. Take me away, Andy. Save

me.

ANDROCLES. (Rising.) Meggy, there's one chance for you. It'll take him pretty nigh twenty minutes to eat me I'm rather stringy and tough-and you can escape in less time than that.

MEGAERA. Oh, don't talk about eating. (The lion rises with a great groan and limps toward them.) Oh! (She faints.)

ANDROCLES. (Quaking, but keeping between the lion and Megaera.) Don't you come near my wife, do you hear? (The lion groans. Androcles can hardly stand for trembling.) Meggy, run. Run for your life. If I take my eye off him, it's all up. (The lion holds up his wounded paw and flaps it piteously before Androcles.) Oh, he's lame, poor old chap! He's got a thorn in his paw. A frightfully big thorn. (Full of sympathy.) Oh, poor old man! Did um get an awful thorn into um's tootsums wootsums? Has it made um too sick to eat a nice little Christian man for um's breakfast? Oh, a nice little Christian man will get um's thorn out for him; and then um shall eat the nice Christian man and the nice Christian man's nice big tender wifey pifey. (The lion responds by moans of self-pity.) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Now, now (taking the paw in his hand), um is not to bite and not to scratch, not even if it hurts a very, very little. Now make velvet paws. That's right. (He pulls gingerly at the thorn. The lion, with an angry yell of pain, jerks back his paw so abruptly that Androcles is thrown on his back.) Steadee! Oh, did the nasty cruel little Christian man hurt the sore paw? (The lion moans assentingly, but apologetically.) Well, one more little pull and it will be all over. Just one little, little, leetle pull; and then um will live happily ever after. (He gives the thorn another pull. The lion roars and snaps his jaws with a terrifying clash.) Oh, mustn't frighten um's good, kind doctor, um's affectionate nursey. That didn't hurt at all: not a bit. Just one more. Just to show how the brave big lion can bear pain, not like the little cry-baby Christian man. Oopsh! (The thorn comes out.

By Courtesy of Everybody's

The

By Courtesy of Everybody's

lion yells with pain, and shakes his paw wildly.) That's it! (Holding up the thorn.) Now it's out. Now lick um's paw to take away the nasty inflammation. See? (He licks his own hand. The lion nods intelligently and licks his paw industriously.) Clever little liony-piony! Understands um's dear old friend Andy Wandy. (The lion licks his face.) Yes, kissums Andy Wandy. (The lion, wagging his tail violently, rises on his hind legs, and embraces Androcles, who makes a wry face and cries.) Velvet paws! Velvet paws! (The lion draws in his claws.) That's right. (He embraces the lion, who finally takes the end of his tail in one paw, places that tight round Androcles' waist, resting it on his hip. Androcles takes the other paw in his hand, stretches out his arm, and the two waltz rapturously round and round and finally away through the jungle.)

Shaw introduces us next to a squad of Roman soldiers escorting a batch of Christians, prisoners of both sexes and all ages, among them one Lavinia, a good-looking resolute young woman, seemingly of higher social standing than her fellow prisoners. A Centurion, carrying his vinewood cudgel, trudges along with the squad, in command of it. All are tired and dusty, but the soldiers are indifferent and the Christians seem inclined to treat their hardships as a joke.

CENTURION. (Stopping.) Halt! Orders from the Captain. (They halt and

wait.) Now then, you Christians, none of your larks. The Captain's coming. Mind you behave yourselves. No singing. Look respectful. Look serious, if you're capable of it. See that big building over there! That's the Coliseum. That's where you'll be thrown to the lions or set to fight the gladiators presently. Think of that and it'll help you to behave properly before the Captain. (The Captain arrives.) Salute! (The soldiers salute.)

A CHRISTIAN. (Cheerfully.) God bless you, Captain.

THE CENTURION. (Scandalized.) Silence!

(The Captain, a patrician, handsome, about thirty-five, very cold and distinguished, very superior and authoritative, steps up on a stone seat at the west side of the square, behind the Centurion, so as to dominate the others more effectually.)

THE CAPTAIN. Centurion. THE CENTURION. (Standing at attention and saluting.) Sir?

THE CAPTAIN. (Speaking stiffly and officially.) officially.) You will remind your men, we are now entering Centurion, that Rome. You will instruct them that once inside the gates of Rome they are in the presence of the Emperor. You will make them understand that the lax discipline of the march can not be permitted here. You will instruct them to shave every day, not every week. You will impress on them particularly that there must be an end to the profanity and blasphemy of singing Christian hymns on the march. I have to reprimand you, Centurion, for not only allowing this, but actually doing it yourself.

THE CENTURION. (Apologetic.) men march better, Captain.

The

CAPTAIN. No doubt. For that reason an exception is made in the case of the march called "Onward, Christian Soldiers." This may be sung, except when marching through the forum or within hearing of the Emperor's palace; but the words must be altered to "Throw Them to the Lions."

(The Christians burst into shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, to the great scandal of the Centurion.)

CENTURION. Silence! Silen-n-n-n-nce! Where's your behavior? Is that the way to listen to an officer? (To the Captain.) That's what we have to put up with from these Christians every day, sir. They're always laughing and joking something

scandalous. how it is.

They've no religion; that's LAVINIA. But I think the Captain meant us to laugh, Centurion. It was so funny.

CENTURION. You'll find out how funny it is when you're thrown to the lions tomorrow. (To the Captain, who looks displeased.) Beg pardon, sir. (To the Christians.) Silen-n-n-n-ce! CAPTAIN. You are to instruct your men that all intimacy with Christian pris

oners must now cease. The men have fallen into habits of dependence upon the prisoners, especially the female prisoners, for cooking, repairs to uniforms, writing letters, and advice in their private affairs. In a Roman soldier such dependence is inadmissible. Let me see no more of it whilst we are in the city. Further, your orders are that in addressing Christian prisoners, the manners and tone of your men must express abhorrence and contempt. Any shortcoming in this respect will be regarded as a breach of discipline. (He turns to the prisoners.) Prisoners.

CENTURION. (Fiercely.) Prisoner-r-r-s! 'Tention! Silence!

CAPTAIN. I call your attention, prisoners, to the fact that you may be called on to appear in the Imperial Circus at any time from to-morrow onwards, according to the requirements of the managers. I may inform you that as there is a shortage of Christians just now, you may expect to be called on very soon. LAVINIA. What will they do to us, Captain?

On

peror's box at the Coliseum, where the performers assemble before entering the arena. The martyrs are sitting Lavinia about awaiting their turns. is seated half way up, thoughtful, trying to stare death in the face. her left Androcles consoles himself by nursing a cat. Ferrovius stands behind them and at the foot of a flight of steps crouches Spintho. Gladiators are standing at ease as they await, like the Christians, their turn to enter the arena. Suddenly Spintho, losing his nerve, commits an act of apostasy and in trying to escape is devoured by a lion behind the scenes. The Captain, standing on the stairs, watches Lavinia curiously:

THE CAPTAIN. I heard that one of your fellows bolted, and ran right into the jaws of the lion. I laughed. I still laugh.

LAVINIA. Then you don't understand what that meant?

on the threshold. The Editor, the CallBoy, and the gladiators spring to their feet.)

THE EMPEROR. The Christians will not fight; and your curs can not get their blood up to attack them. It's all that fellow with the blazing eyes. Send for the whip. (The Call-Boy rushes out on the east side for the whip.) 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

ed into the arena with the wild beasts of the Imperial Menagerie, and will suffer the consequences. The men, if of an age to bear arms, will be given weapons to defend themselves, if they choose, against the Imperial Gladiators.

LAVINIA. Captain! Is there no hope

that this cruel persecution

CENTURION. (Shocked.) Silence! Hold your tongue there. Persecution, indeed! CAPTAIN. (Unmoved and somewhat sardonic.) Persecution is not a term applicable to the acts of the Emperor. The Emperor is the Defender of the Faith. In throwing you to the lions he will be upholding the interests of religion in Rome. If you were to throw him to the lions, that would no doubt be persecution.

(The Christians again laugh heartily.) CENTURION. (Horrified.) Silence, I tell you. Keep silence there. Did any one ever hear the like of this?

LAVINIA. Captain, there will be nobody to appreciate your jokes when we are gone.

Infinite buffoonery and much that seems indistinguishable from horseplay invest the action with effects of drollery in this style until we come to the climax of the play. Lavinia has again and again refused to save herself from a martyr's death by sacrificing to the gods-a simple and convenient ceremony, as the Captain, in love with her, explains, involving no more than dropping a pinch of incense on the pagan altar. We are next behind the Em

THE CAPTAIN. Are you then going to die for nothing?

LAVINIA. Yes; that is the wonderful thing. It is since all the stories and dreams have gone that I have now no doubt at all that I must die for some

thing greater than dreams or stories.

THE CAPTAIN. But for what? LAVINIA. I don't know. If it were for anything small enough to know, it would be too small to die for. I think is real enough to die for. I'm going to die for God. Nothing else

THE CAPTAIN. What is God? LAVINIA. When we know that, Captain, we shall be gods ourselves.

THE CAPTAIN. Lavinia, come down to earth. Burn the incense and marry me. LAVINIA. Handsome Captain, would you marry me if I hauled down the flag in the day of battle and burnt the incense? Sons take after their mothers, you know. Do you want your son to be a coward?

THE CAPTAIN. (Strongly moved.) By great Diana, I think I would strangle you if you gave in now.

LAVINIA. (Putting her hand on the head of Androcles.) The hand of God is on us three, Captain.

THE CAPTAIN. What nonsense it all is!

And what a monstrous thing that you should die for such nonsense, and that I should look on helplessly when my whole soul cries out against it! Die, then, if you must; but at least I can cut the Emperor's throat and then my own when I see your blood.

(The Emperor throws open the door of his box angrily, and appears in wrath

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.)

What

THE EDITOR. What's up now? LAVINIA. (To the Captain.) 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 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 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 co-religionists,

and by the Menagerie Keeper, who goes to the gladiators. The gladiators draw their swords nervously.)

FERROVIUS. Lost, lost forever! I have betrayed my Master. Cut off this right hand it has offended. Ye have swords, my brethren: strike! LAVINIA. No, no. done, Ferrovius?

What have you

FERROVIUS. I know not; but there was blood behind my eyes; and there's blood on my sword. What does that mean?

THE EMPEROR. (Enthusiastically, on the landing outside his box.) What does it mean? It means that you are the greatest man. in Rome. It means that you shall have a laurel crown of gold. Superb fighter, I could almost yield you my throne. It is a record for my reign! I shall live in history. Once, in Domitian's time, a Gaul slew three men in the arena and gained his freedom. But when before has one naked man slain six armed men of the bravest and best? The persecution shall cease. If Christians can fight like this, I shall have none but Christians to fight for me. (To the gladiators.) You are ordered to become Christians, you there; do you hear?

RETIARIUS. It is all one to us, .Caesar. Had I been there with my net, the story would have been different.

THE CAPTAIN. (Suddenly seizing Lavinia by the wrist and dragging her up the steps to the Emperor.) Caesar, this woman is the sister of Ferrovius. If she is thrown to the lions he will fret. He will lose weight; get out of condition

THE EMPEROR. The lions? Nonsense! (To Lavinia.) Madam, I am proud to have the honor of making your acquaintance. Your brother is the glory of Rome.

LAVINIA. But my friends here. Must they die?

THE EMPEROR. Die! Certainly not. There has never been the slightest idea of harming them. Ladies and gentlemen, you are all free. Pray go into the front of the house and enjoy the spectacle to which your brother has so splendidly contributed. Captain, oblige me by conducting them to the seats reserved for my personal friends.

one

THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar, I must have Christian for the lion. The people have been promised it; and they will tear the decorations to bits if they are disappointed.

THE EMPEROR. True, true; we must have somebody for the new lion.

FERROVIUS. Throw me to him. Let the apostate perish.

THE EMPEROR. No, no; you would tear him to pieces, my friend; and we can not afford to throw away lions as if they were mere slaves. But we must have somebody. This is really extremely awkward.

ANDROCLES IS REWARDED

THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Why not that little Greek chap? He's not a Christian; he's a sorcerer.

THE EMPEROR. The very thing; he will do very well.

THE CALL-BOY. (Issuing from the passage.) Number twelve. The Christian

for the new lion.

ANDROCLES. (Rising, and pulling himself sadly together.) Well, it was to be, after all.

LAVINIA. I'll go in his place, Caesar. Ask the Captain whether they do not like best to see a woman torn to pieces. He told me so yesterday.

THE EMPEROR. There is something in that; there is certainly something in that-if only I could feel sure that your brother would not fret.

ANDROCLES. No; I should never have another happy hour. No; on the faith of a Christian and the honor of a tailor, I accept the lot that has fallen on me. If my wife turns up, give her my love and say that my wish was that she should be happy with her next, poor fellow! Caesar, go to your box and see how a tailor can die. Make way for number twelve there. (He marches out along the passage.)

(The vast audience in the amphitheater now sees the Emperor reenter his box and take his place, as Androcles, desperately frightened, but still marching with piteous devotion, emerges from the

CAESAR SAVES HIS FACE

247

other end of the passage and finds himself at the focus of thousands of eager eyes. The lion's cage, with a heavy portcullis grating, is on his left. The Em.peror gives a signal. A gong sounds. Androcles shivers at the sound; then falls on his knees and prays. The grating rises with a clash. The lion bounds into the arena. He rushes round, frisking in his freedom. He sees Androcles. He stops; rises stiffly by straightening his legs; stretches out his nose and his tail in a horizontal line behind, like a pointer, and utters an appalling roar. Androcles crouches and hides his face in his hands. The lion gathers himself for a spring, swishing his tail to and fro through the dust in an ecstasy of anticipation. Androcles throws up his hands in supplication to heaven. The lion checks at the sight of Androcles's face. He then steals toward him; smells him; arches his back; purrs like a motor-car; finally rubs himself against Androcles, knocking him over. Androcles, supporting himself on his wrist, looks affrightedly at the lion. The lion limps on three paws, holding up the other as if it was wounded. A flash of recognition lights up the face of Androcles. He flaps his hand as if it had a thorn in it, and pretends to pull the thorn out and to hurt himself. The lion nods repeatedly. Androcles holds out his hands to the lion, who gives him both paws, which he shakes with enthusiasm.

They embrace rapturously,

finally waltz round the arena amid α sudden burst of deafening applause, and out through the passage, the Emperor watching them in breathless astonishment until they disappear, when he rushes from his box and descends the steps in frantic excitement.)

THE EMPEROR. My friends, an incredible, an amazing thing has happened! I can no longer doubt the truth of Christianity. (The Christians press to him joyfully.) This Christian sorcerer- -(With a yell he breaks off as he sees Androcles and the lion emerge from the passage, waltzing. He bolts wildly up the steps into his box, and slams the door. All, Christians and gladiators alike, fly for their lives, the gladiators bolting into the arena, the others in all directions. The place is emptied with magical suddenness.)

ANDROCLES. (Naïvely.) Now I wonder why they all run away from us like that. (The lion, combining a series of yawns, purrs, and roars, achieves something very like a laugh.)

THE EMPEROR. (Standing on a chair inside his box and lookng over the wall.) Sorcerer, I command you to put that lion to death instantly. It is guilty of high treason. Your conduct is most disgra- (The lion charges at him up the stairs.) Help!

(He disappears. The lion rears against the box; looks over the partition at him and roars. The Emperor darts out through the door and down to Androcles, pursued by the lion.)

ANDROCLES. Don't run away, sir; he can't help springing if you run. (He seizes the Emperor and gets between him and the lion, who stops at once.) Don't be afraid of him.

THE EMPEROR. I am not afraid of him. (The lion crouches, growling. The Emperor clutches Androcles.) Keep between

us.

ANDROCLES. Never be afraid of animals, your Worship; that's the great secret. He'll be as gentle as a lamb when he knows that you are his friend. Stand quite still; and smile; and let him smell you all over just to reassure him; for, you see, he's afraid of you; and he must examine you thoroughly before he gives you his confidence. (To the lion.) Come now, Tommy, and speak nicely to the Emperor; the great good Emperor who has power to have all our heads cut off if we don't behave very, very. respectfully to him.

(The lion utters a fearful roar. The Emperor bolts madly up the steps, across the landing, and down again on the other side, with the lion in hot pursuit. Androcles rushes after the lion; overtakes him as he is descending, and throws himself on his back, trying to use his toes as a brake. Before he can stop him the lion gets hold of the trailing end of the Emperor's robe.)

ANDROCLES. Oh, bad, wicked Tommy, to chase the Emperor like that! Let go the Emperor's robe at once, sir; where's your manners? (The lion growls and worries the robe.) I'll tell you what it is, sir, he thinks you and I are not friends.

(Trying to undo the

THE EMPEROR. clasp of his brooch.) fernal scoundrelDon't let him go! can't get it loose.

Friends! You in(The lion growls.) Curse this brooch! I

ANDROCLES. We mustn't let him lash himself into a rage. You must show him that you are my particular friend-if you will have the condescension. (He seizes the Emperor's hands and shakes them cordially.) Look, Tommy; the nice Em

peror is the dearest friend Andy Wandy has in the whole world. He loves him like a brother.

THE EMPEROR. You little brute; you filthy little dog of a Greek tailor! I'll have you burnt alive for daring to touch the divine person of the Emperor! (The lion growls.)

ANDROCLES. Oh, don't talk like that, sir. He understands every word you say; all animals do; they take it from the tone of your voice. (The lion growls and lashes his tail.) I think he's going to spring at your Worship. If you wouldn't mind saying something affectionate. (The lion roars.)

THE EMPEROR. (Shaking Androcles's hands frantically.) My dearest Mr. Androcles, my sweetest friend, my long-lost brother, come to my arms! (He embraces Androcles.) Oh, what an abominable smell of garlic!

(The lion lets go the robe and rolls over on his back, clasping his forepaws over one another coquettishly above his nose.)

ANDROCLES. There! You see, your Worship, a child might play with him now. See! (He tickles the lion's belly. The lion wriggles ecstatically.) Come and pet him.

THE EMPEROR. I must conquer these unkingly terrors. Mind you don't go away from him, tho. (He pats the lion's chest.)

ANDROCLES. Oh, sir, how few men would have the courage to do that!

THE EMPEROR. Yes, it takes a bit of nerve. Let us have the Court in and frighten them. Is he safe, do you think? ANDROCLES. Quite safe now, sir.

THE EMPEROR. (Majestically.) What ho, there! All who are within hearing, return without fear. Caesar has tamed the lion. (All the fugitives steal cautiously in. The Menagerie Keeper comes from the passage with other keepers armed with iron bars and tridents.) Take those things away. I have subdued the beast. (He places his foot on it.)

FERROVIUS. (Timidly approaching the Emperor and looking down with awe at the lion.) It is strange that I, who fear no man, should fear a lion.

THE CAPTAIN. Every man fears something, Ferrovius.

THE EMPEROR. How about the Pretorian Guard now?

FERROVIUS. In my youth I worshipped Mars, the god of War. I turned from him to serve the Christian God; but today the Christian God forsook me; and Mars overcame me and took back his own. The Christian God is not yet. He will come when Mars and I are dust; but meanwhile I must serve the gods that are, not the God that will be. Until then I accept service in the Guard, Caesar.

THE EMPEROR. Very wisely said. All really sensible men agree that the prudent course is to be neither bigoted in our attachment to the old nor rash and unpractical in keeping an open mind for the new, but to make the best of both dispensations.

THE CAPTAIN. What do you say, Lavinia? Will you, too, be prudent?

LAVINIA. (On the stairs.) No; I'll strive for the coming of the God who is not yet.

THE CAPTAIN. May I come and argue with you occasionally?

LAVINIA. Yes, handsome Captain; you may. (He kisses her hand.)

THE EMPEROR. And now, my friends, tho I do not, as you see, fear this lion, yet the strain of his presence is considerable; for none of us can feel quite sure what he will do next.

THE MENAGERIE KEEPER. Caesar, give us this Greek sorcerer to be a slave in the menagerie. He has a way with the

beasts.

ANDROCLES. (Distressed.) Not if they are in cages. They should not be kept in cages. They must be all let out.

THE EMPEROR. I give this sorcerer to be a slave to the first man who lays hands on him. (The menagerie keepers and the gladiators rush for Androcles. The lion starts up and faces them. They surge back.) You see how magnanimous we Romans are, Androcles. We suffer you to go in peace.

ANDROCLES. I thank your Worship. I thank you all, ladies and gentlemen. Come, Tommy. Whilst we stand together, no cage for you; no slavery for me. (He goes out with the lion, everybody crowding away to give him as wide a berth as possible.)

T

HE managers so far have been loathe to admit that the war upsets their plans. They ask us to remember that in times of public catastrophe the theater is likely to flourish. In 1907, when business went to the wall, the dramatic Muses prospered. Evidently the managers are whistling to keep up their courage. For our little panic shrivels into insignificance compared with the catastrophe that is engulfing the world. In the first plays that have been successfully produced in New York this season, there is no hint of the war. The Hippodrome produces an elaborate

SEASON

spectacle "The Wars of the World," but this production was planned many months ago, and every scene that could possibly be construed as an allusion to the present conflict, has been carefully eliminated. If Turkey decides to join Germany, the scene in which the Arabs unroll the green flag of the Prophet will no doubt be bluepencilled. The entertainment is the most intelligent spectacle ever staged by the genius of Arthur Voegtlin at the most immense playhouse in the western world.

In the regular theater, the underworld, as the New York Sun dolefully points out, is still a popular milieu for

the playwright. The conflict between the law and these varied elements, the writer prophesies, will be the theme of most of the plays this year.

"One need only read the titles: 'On Trial,' 'The Trap,' 'Innocent,' 'What Happened at 22,' 'Baited,' and so on. The crook may not have the monopoly of the stage he possessed some years ago, but the man struggling against law and order is the figure that dominates so far in the theaters. The woman in the samesituation may appear later. Will she be another Mary Turner? For it was undoubtedly to Mary's sufferings and triumphs in 'Within the Law that the