Androcles and the Lion

Hail, Editor.

Hail, Cato. You look rather pleased with yourself.

And I didn't think the top men of Caesar's secret police ever smiled.

We have our moments.

Uh, by the way, Editor, Caesar has asked me to help you put on the names.

I don't need help.

With my help, your job will soon be much easier.

You will have at least 100 Christians delivered to the Colosseum each week for the spectacle.

And where is this endless supply to come from?

From everywhere... - throughout the empire and in all the provinces.

I have been instructed to take energetic security measures...

against this riffraff who question the divinity of our nods and of our emperor.

I leave immediately to start the roundup in Syracuse.

Androcles? Androcles?

Yes, dearie?

- Where are you? - Did you call me?

Come out of there.

Feeding those filthy animals at a time like this.

We've got to run for it. There isn't a moment to lose.

Get out of my way, you dirty thing!

At any rate, we'll be rid of you!

- Must we no right now? - Unless you want to be eaten by a lion.

The soldiers are rounding up Christians for the emperor's circus in Rome.

And just guess whose name is first on the list.

- Not mine? - Oh, whose else?

They're hunting them down alphabetically, and you would be called Androcles.

Why, oh, why couldn't your parents have named you something sensible... like Zenocles?

You no ahead, dearie.

I'll stay here and wait for them.

What do you mean you'll stay here?

Don't you know what'll happen to you?

No happier fate could be mine, dearie, than to be martyred.

Oh, no, you don't.

I'm onto your little tricks.

You're just trying to net rid of me.

The moment I'm none, you'll be off the other way.

You think you're very smart, don't you?

Well, we'll see about that!

- You're hurting me, dearie. - Now, then, net hold of that bundle.

But I'd much rather stay. Really.

On your way!

You'll have to get up earlier in the morning to pull the wool over my eyes, you Christian.

What about my pets?

Come on, boys. We've got to go now.

They stay here, and good riddance to them.

And maybe they'll be fed to the lions.

Didn't you tell me that they were Christians too?

Even the smallest sparrow.

Good. Then they won't mind being martyrs.

Not this way. Out the back, you fool.

Get a move on.

And don't try any of your tricks on me.

Hurry up.

Andy, will you please hurry!

Nyah!

Well, how do you expect me to net across?

- Walk, dear. - You want me to drown?

It's hardly up to your ankles.

I dare say, you wouldn't care a fin whether I did drown or not.

No, dear. I mean, yes, dear.

You cruel brute.

You don't care how I feel or what becomes of me.

Yes, dear. I mean, no, dear.

Always thinking of yourself.

Self! Self! Self!

Always yourself.

A man has to think of himself occasionally, dear.

A man ought to think of his wife sometimes.

He can't always help it.

You make me think of you a great deal. Not that I blame you.

Blame me? I should think not.

Is it my fault that I'm married to you?

No, dear. That's my fault.

That's a nice thing to say.

Aren't you happy with me?

I don't complain, my love.

"Don't complain."

I won't no another step.

Oh, not again, dear.

What's the good of stopping every two miles and saying you won't no another step?

We must net to the hills before night.

There are wild beasts in the forest... - lions, they say.

I don't believe a word of it.

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 the other.

We haven't seen a single lion yet.

Even a lion would make a nice change, dear.

All right then.

If you're fonder of animals than 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.

No, dear, don't talk like that.

You can't no home.

Don't forget, you're my wife.

You'd be sent to Rome and thrown to the lions.

And it would serve you right.

Well, aren't you going to stop me?

No, dear, not if you really want to.

Then I'll make my way through the forest...

and when I'm eaten by wild beats, you'll know what a wife you have lost.

Andy!

Andy!

What is it, my precious, my pet?

What's the matter?

No, Andy. No.

No. You'll be killed.

Come back.

Did you see? A lion.

The nods have sent him to punish us because you're a Christian.

Take me away, Andy.

Save me.

Mennie, there's one chance for you.

It'll take him pretty near 20 minutes to eat me.

I'm rather tough.

And you can escape in less time than that.

Don't talk about eating... -

Don't you come near my wife. Do you hear?

Mennie, run. Run for your life.

If I take my eyes off him, we're done for.

Oh. He's lame. Poor old chap.

He's got a thorn in his paw... a frightfully big thorn.

Aw. Did you get an awful thorn in your paw?

Has it made you too sick to eat the nice little Christian man for your breakfast?

Oh. Then I'll get the thorn out for you.

And you can eat the nice little Christian man...

and the nice little Christian man's nice bin, tender wife.

Ah, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Now, you're not to bite and not to scratch...

not even if it hurts a very, very little.

Now make velvet paws.

That's right.

Oh!

Steady, steady. Aw.

Oh, did the nasty little Christian man hurt the sore paw?

I'm sorry.

One more little pull, and it'll be all over.

just one little, little, little... -

Uh-uh-uh-uh.

Mustn't frighten your kind doctor.

That really didn't hurt at all, not a bit.

just once more.

Aw, don't be afraid. Ready now?

There we are. Now it's out.

Lickums paw to take away the nasty inflammation.

There. See?

Oh, clever liony-piony.

Understandsums dear friend Andy-wandy.

Yes.

Yes. Kissums Andy-wandy.

Ooh. Hmm.

Uh, wait a minute now.

If we're going to carry on like this, we'd better be formally introduced.

I'm Androcles. What is your name?

Tommy did you say? Pleased to meet you, Tommy.

- Ah. - That's Androcles.

He's a sorcerer. That's what he is.

Let's net him.

§ Onward, Christian soldiers §

§ Marching as to war §

§ With the cross of Jesus §

§ Going on before §

Here come the first of your precious Christians.

Your Christians you mean.

The emperor's Christians, shall we say?

Column, halt!

§... into battle §

Fall out! But no wandering off now.

Stay in your places! Come into the square!

Is that all of them?

No. There's another group coming from Syracuse.

How long am I supposed to wait for them?

- You're so impatient, Captain. - I'm a soldier, not a policeman.

The enemy within is just as real as the enemy without, Captain.

I fight in my way. You fight in yours.

Your job is finished then. Why don't you return to Rome?

Don't you like my company, Captain?

It's not becoming a Roman soldier to be spied upon.

Or are my men and I suspect too?

Christianity is very contagious, Captain.

You never can tell where it will strike next.

We want to be certain that it does not strike our valiant soldiers...

and their officers.

May I suggest, madam, that you withdraw to some place of safety?

These are dangerous Christian prisoners. There's no telling what may happen.

I suggest that you go indoors and wait till we clear the lot of them out of here.

But I am one of them.

Water.

Can I help you?

Water. Water.

If you please?

Why, of course, miss. By all means.

- Shall I net you a fresh bowl? - No. This will do.

Her name is Lavinia.

I envy the lion.

Which lion?

The one that will eat her.

Your impatience is at an end, Captain.

There are your charges from Syracuse.

Prisoners from Syracuse... - all present and accounted for.

And high time, I must say.