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.