AS Maximus Decimus Meridius might well have said: attack is the best form of defence.

The Conservatives’ battered, bruised and Brexit-burdened lead gladiator dragged herself into the arena once more to defend herself against the poisoned barbs of Corbyn and Blackford.

The Westminster Coliseum was packed. Up in the public gallery, facing the PM, was loyal husband Philip, flicking an occasional smile at the missus down below as she ducked and dived to dodge the Opposition’s blows.

When Thezza entered the fray there was a rafter-rattling roar; a greeting far louder and full-throated than she had known before. It underlined just how the PM was facing a battle for survival.

Indeed, in her opening remarks, she declared to laughter: “Today, I will have meetings, possibly many meetings, with ministerial colleagues and others.”

The chief comrade sought to belittle the PM, asking her about her “little journeys” across Europe and what progress had been made. The head girl gave him a Thatcheresque stare and struck the first blow.

“He couldn’t care less what I bring back from Brussels. He has been clear that whatever comes back from Brussels he will vote against it because all he wants to do is create chaos in our economy, division in our society and damage to our economy. That’s Labour. That’s Corbyn.”

When she suggested, to Labour cries of “when,” that the debate on the deferred meaningful vote would resume after discussion in “the usual way,” the chief comrade’s forehead rippled with anger.

Jumping up, Jezza lashed out: “That is totally and utterly unacceptable to this House!” The Tory berserkers held up their collective handbag and cried: “Oooh!”

But his blood was up.

To comradely roars, the Labour chief declared: “Her behaviour today is just contemptuous of this Parliament and this process.”

As more blows were traded, the lines of argument began to shorten.

“What we see on the other side of the chamber: no plan, no clue, no Brexit,” snapped Thezza.

Jezza, his blows getting weaker, insisted the “time for dithering and delay was over”. But the Tory barracking increased so much that the Speaker, for the umpteenth time, had to intervene to calm things down.

Maggie May’s ripostes were going so well when she stumbled, delivering a truly awful joke, which had the hairy Leftie scratching his beard. He wasn’t the only one.

“Whatever change in Labour policy we see, he will send out his henchman to reveal it all to the world; ‘the inconstant Gardiner.’” As Jezza frowned, she noted to Conservative cackles: “Someone will explain it to him a little bit later.”

After the Nat-in-Chief Blackford tried to wound the PM, rolling out a series of predictable snipes – the Government was in chaos and the PM should resign - it was left to the wisdom of the Tory Bagpuss to point out the blindingly obvious.

“At a time of grave national crisis on an issue that we all agree is of huge importance to future generations, can she think of anything more unhelpful, irrelevant and irresponsible than for the Conservative Party to embark on weeks of a leadership election?” asked Ken Clarke.

After more than 40 minutes of hand to hand political combat, the ambulance wasn’t needed; the blooded PM had survived.

But, of course, the real contest was yet to come. In the shadowy corners of Committee Room 14 she would face a far more lethal opponent: Tory MPs holding a secret ballot.