The first time Edward Bond's Saved was staged, it was to an outraged pandemonium in which, I'm sorry to say, the voices of some respected colleagues were shrilly to be heard; the second, only four years later, to general agreement that the stoning-to-death of the baby in his pram was a justifiable illustration of the extremes to which deprivation could push our fellow-citizens. Yesterday's shock-horror headline had become today's challenging masterpiece. It's a familiar enough process; and if I take leave to doubt that The Romans in Britain will provide the next instance of its operation, it's more because of scepticism about the whole than disgust at any part or parts, including the private ones so generously on display in the Celtic forests of 54 BC. I was duly sickened by the scene in which a druid is incompetently raped by a Roman soldier, as I was meant to...