relations.

BELZANOR (hotly, to the Persian). Man to man, are we worse than
the slaves of Caesar?

BEL AFFRIS (stepping between them). Listen, cousin. Man to man,
we Egyptians are as gods above the Romans.

THE GUARDSMEN (exultingly). Aha!

BEL AFFRIS. But this Caesar does not pit man against man: he
throws a legion at you where you are weakest as he throws a stone
from a catapult; and that legion is as a man with one head, a
thousand arms, and no religion. I have fought against them; and I
know.

BELZANOR (derisively). Were you frightened, cousin?

The guardsmen roar with laughter, their eyes sparkling at the
wit of their captain.

BEL AFFRIS. No, cousin; but I was beaten. They were frightened
(perhaps); but they scattered us like chaff.

The guardsmen, much damped, utter a growl of contemptuous
disgust.

BELZANOR. Could you not die?

BEL AFFRIS. No: that was too easy to be worthy of a descendant of