He is
an opportunist seeking for power, wicked, lustful, cruel--"
"But a good sportsman!"
"In what way, my lord?"
"Didn't he allow me the choice of combat?"
The Jan laughed, but his handsome face could not hide his
contempt.
"It is ever so with a champion, my lord. He has never been
defeated in a matter of physical prowess. It would be far more to
his glory to overcome you in combat of your own selection. It will
be spectacular--he knows the value of dramatic climax--and he
would kill you in a moment, before a million Thomahlians."
"It's a nice way to die," said Watson. "You must grant that much."
"I don't know of any nice way to die, my lord. But it is a good
way of living--to kill the Bar Senestro. I would that I could have
the honour."
"How does it come that the Rhamdas, superintellectual as they are,
can consent to such a contest? Is it not degrading, to their way
of thinking? It smacks of barbarism."
"They do not look upon it in that light, my lord. Our civilisation
has passed beyond snobbery. Of course there was a time, centuries
ago when we were taught that any physical contest was brutal. But
that was before we knew better."
"You don't believe it now?"
"By no means, my lord. The most wonderful physical thing in the
Thomahlia is the human body. We do not hide it. We admire beauty,
strength, prowess. The live body is above all art; it is the work
of God himself; art is but an imitation.
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