CAESAR’S APOSTASY (continued 2)
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Basil.
[Freeing himself.] Julian, Julian!
Gregory.
Blasphemer—to this has your pride of heart brought you!
Basil.
Oh, Gregory, he is sick and beside himself!
Julian.
Why all this scornful doubt? Is it my small stature that witnesses against me? Ha, ha; I tell you this gross and fleshly generation shall pass away. That which is to come shall be conceived rather in the soul than in the body. In the first 105Adam, soul and body were equally balanced, as in those statues of the god Apollo. Since then the balance has been lost. Was not Moses tongue-tied? Had not his arms to be supported when he held them up in imprecation, there by the Red Sea? Did not the Macedonian need ever to be fired by strong drinks and other artificial aids? And Jesus of Nazareth, too? Was he not feeble in body? Did he not fall asleep in the ship, whilst the others kept awake? Did he not faint under the cross, that cross which the Jew Simon carried with ease? The two thieves did not faint.—You call yourselves believers, and yet have so little faith in miraculous revelation. Wait, wait—you shall see; the Bride shall surely be given me; and then—hand in hand will we go forth to the east, where some say that Helios is born,—we will hide ourselves in the solitudes, as the godhead hides itself, seek out the grove on the banks of Euphrates, find it, and there—oh glory of glories!—thence shall a new race, perfect in beauty and in balance, go forth over the earth; there, ye book-worshipping doubters, there shall the empire of the spirit be founded!
Basil.
Oh, well may I wring my hands in sorrow for your sake. Are you the same Julian who, three years ago, came out of Constantinople?
Julian.
Then I was blind, as you are now; I knew only the way that stops short at doctrine.
Gregory.
Know you where your present way ends?
106Julian.
Where the path and the goal are one.—For the last time, Gregory, Basil—I implore you to stay with me. The vision I had last night,—that and many other things, point to a mysterious bond between us. To you, my Basil, I had so much to say. You are the head of your house; and who knows whether all the blessings that are promised me—may not come through you and yours——
Basil.
Never! No one with my good will shall ever be led away by your frenzies and your wild dreams.
Julian.
Ah, why talk of will? I see a hand writing on the wall; soon I shall interpret the writing.
Gregory.
Come, Basil.
Julian.
[With outstretched arms.] Oh, my friends, my friends!
Gregory.
Between us there is a gulf from this day forward.
[He drags Basil with him; both go out to the right.
Julian.
[Looking after them.] Ay, go! Go, go!—What do you two learned men know? What bring you from the city of wisdom? You, my strong, masterful Gregory,—and you, Basil, more girl than man—you know only two streets in Athens, 107the street to the schools, and the street to the church; of the third street toward Eleusis and further, you know naught; and still less——. Ah!
The curtain on the right is drawn aside. Two servants in eastern costume bring in a tall, veiled object, which they place in the corner, behind the table. Shortly after, Maximus the Mystic enters by the same door. He is a lean man of middle height, with a bronzed, hawk-like face; his hair and beard are much grizzled, but his thick eyebrows and moustache still retain their pitch-black colour. He wears a pointed cap and a long black robe; in his hand he carries a white wand.
Maximus goes, without heeding Julian, up to the veiled object, stops, and makes a sign to the servants; they retire noiselessly.
Julian.
[Softly.] At last!
[Maximus draws the veil away, revealing a bronze lamp on a high tripod; then he takes out a little silver pitcher, and pours oil into the lamp-bowl. The lamp lights of itself, and burns with a strong reddish glare.
Julian.
[In eager expectancy.] Is the time come?
Maximus.
[Without looking at him.] Art thou pure in soul and body?
108Julian.
I have fasted and anointed myself.
Maximus.
Then may the night’s high festival begin!
[He gives a sign; dancing-girls and flute-players appear in the outer court. Music and dancing continue during what follows.
Julian.
Maximus,—what is this?
Maximus.
Roses in the hair! Sparkling wine! See, see the lovely limbs at play!
Julian.
And amid this whirl of the senses you would——?
Maximus.
Sin lies only in thy sense of sinfulness.
Julian.
Roses in the hair! Sparkling wine! [He casts himself down on one of the couches beside the table, drains a full goblet, puts it hastily from him, and asks:] Ah! What was in the wine?
Maximus.
A spark of that fire which Prometheus stole.
[He reclines at the opposite side of the table.
Julian.
My senses exchange their functions; I hear brightness and I see music.
109Maximus.
Wine is the soul of the grape. The freed and yet willing captive. Logos in Pan!
The Dancing-Girls.
[Singing in the court]
Would’st thou know liberty?
Drain Bacchus’ blood;—
Rock on the rhythm-sea,
Float with its flood!
Julian.
[Drinking.] Yes, Yes; there is freedom in intoxication. Canst thou interpret this rapture?
Maximus.
This intoxication is thy marriage with the soul of nature.
Julian.
Sweet riddle; tempting, alluring——! What was that? Why didst thou laugh?
Maximus.
I?
Julian.
There is whispering on my left hand! The silk cushions rustle—— [Springing half up with a pale face.] Maximus, we are not alone!
Maximus.
[Loudly.] We are five at table!
Julian.
Symposium with the spirits!
110Maximus.
With the shades.
Julian.
Name my guests!
Maximus.
Not now. Hark, hark!
Julian.
What is that? There is a rushing, as of a storm, through the house——
Maximus.
[Shrieks.] Julian! Julian! Julian!
Julian.
Speak, speak! What is befalling us?
Maximus.
The hour of annunciation is upon thee!
Julian.
[Springing up and shrinking far back from the table.] Ah!
[The table lamps seem on the point of extinction; over the great bronze lamp rises a bluish circle of light.
Maximus.
[Casting himself wholly down.] Thine eye toward the light!
Julian.
Yonder?
Maximus.
Yes, yes!
111The Girls’ Song.
[Low, from the court.]
Night spreads her snares for thee,
All-seeing night;
Laughing-eyed Luxury
Lures to delight.
Julian.
[Staring at the radiance.] Maximus! Maximus!
Maximus.
[Softly.] Seest thou aught?
Julian.
Yes.
Maximus.
What seest thou?
Julian.
I see a shining countenance in the light.
Maximus.
Man, or woman?
Julian.
I know not.
Maximus.
Speak to it.
Julian.
Dare I?
Maximus.
Speak! speak!
Julian.
[Advancing.] Why was I born?
112A Voice in the Light.
To serve the spirit.
Maximus.
Does it answer?
Julian.
Yes, yes.
Maximus.
Ask further.
Julian.
What is my mission?
The Voice.
To establish the empire.
Julian.
What empire?
The Voice.
The empire.
Julian.
And by what way?
The Voice.
By the way of freedom.
Julian.
Speak clearly! What is the way of freedom?
The Voice.
The way of necessity.
Julian.
And by what power?
113The Voice.
By willing.
Julian.
What shall I will?
The Voice.
What thou must.
Julian.
It pales; it vanishes——! [Coming closer.] Speak, speak! What must I will?
The Voice.
[Wailing.] Julian!
[The circle of light passes away; the table lamps burn as before.
Maximus.
[Looking up.] Gone?
Julian.
Gone.
Maximus.
Dost thou now see clearly?
Julian.
Now less than ever. I hang in the void over the yawning deep—midway between light and darkness. [He lies down again.] What is the empire?
Maximus.
There are three empires.
Julian.
Three?
114Maximus.
First that empire which was founded on the tree of knowledge; then that which was founded on the tree of the cross——
Julian.
And the third?
Maximus.
The third is the empire of the great mystery; that empire which shall be founded on the tree of knowledge and the tree of the cross together, because it hates and loves them both, and because it has its living sources under Adam’s grove and under Golgotha.
Julian.
And this empire shall come——?
Maximus.
It stands on the threshold. I have counted and counted——
Julian.
[Breaking off sharply.] The whispering again! Who are my guests?
Maximus.
The three corner-stones under the wrath of necessity.
Julian.
Who, who?
Maximus.
The three great helpers in denial.
Julian.
Name them!
115Maximus.
I cannot; I know them not;—but I could show them to thee——
Julian.
Then show me them! At once, Maximus——!
Maximus.
Beware——!
Julian.
At once; at once! I will see them; I will speak with them, one by one.
Maximus.
The guilt be on thy head.
[He waves his wand and calls.
Take shape and come to sight, thou first-elected lamb of sacrifice!
Julian.
Ah!
Maximus.
[With veiled face.] What seest thou?
Julian.
[In a low voice.] There he lies; just by the corner.—He is great as Hercules, and beautiful,—yet no, not——
[Hesitatingly.
Speak to me if thou canst!
A Voice.
What wouldst thou know?
Julian.
What was thy task in life?
116The Voice.
My sin.
Julian.
Why didst thou sin?
The Voice.
Why was I not my brother?
Julian.
Palter not with me. Why didst thou sin?
The Voice.
Why was I myself?
Julian.
And what didst thou will, being thyself?
The Voice.
What I must.
Julian.
And wherefore must thou?
The Voice.
I was myself.
Julian.
Thou art sparing of words.
Maximus.
[Without looking up.] In vino veritas.
Julian.
Thou hast hit it, Maximus?
[He pours forth a full goblet in front of the empty seat.
117Bathe thee in the fumes of wine, my pallid guest! Refresh thee. Feel, feel—it mounts aloft like the smoke of sacrifice.
The Voice.
The smoke of sacrifice does not always mount.
Julian.
Why does that scar redden on thy brow? Nay, nay,—draw not the hair over it; What is it?
The Voice.
The mark.
Julian.
H’m; no more of that. And what fruit has thy sin borne?
The Voice.
The most glorious.
Julian.
What callest thou the most glorious?
The Voice.
Life.
Julian.
And the ground of life?
The Voice.
Death.
Julian.
And of death?
The Voice.
[Losing itself as in a sigh.] Ah, that is the riddle!
118Julian.
Gone!
Maximus.
[Looking up.] Gone?
Julian.
Yes.
Maximus.
Didst thou know him?
Julian.
Yes.
Maximus.
Who was it?
Julian.
Cain.
Maximus.
By that way, then! Ask no more!
Julian.
[With an impatient gesture.] The second, Maximus!
Maximus.
No, no, no; I will not!
Julian.
The second, I say! Thou hast sworn that I should fathom the meaning of certain things. The second, Maximus. I will see him; I will know my guests!
Maximus.
Thou hast willed it, not I.
[He waves his wand.
119Arise and come to light, thou willing slave, thou who didst help at the world’s next great turning-point.
Julian.
[Gazes for a moment into the empty space; suddenly he makes a gesture of repulsion towards the seat at its side, and says in a low voice:] No nearer!
Maximus.
[Who has turned his back.] Dost thou see him?
Julian.
Yes.
Maximus.
How dost thou see him?
Julian.
I see him as a red-bearded man. His garments are rent, and he has a rope round his neck——
Speak to him, Maximus!
Maximus.
’Tis thou must speak.
Julian.
What wast thou in life?
A Voice.
[Close beside him.] The twelfth wheel of the world chariot.
Julian.
The twelfth? The fifth is reckoned useless.
The Voice.
But for me, whither had the chariot rolled?
120Julian.
Whither did it roll by means of thee?
The Voice
Into the glory of glories.
Julian.
Why didst thou help?
The Voice.
Because I willed.
Julian.
What didst thou will?
The Voice.
What I must.
Julian.
Who chose thee?
The Voice.
The master.
Julian.
Did the master foreknow when he chose thee?
The Voice.
Ah, that is the riddle!
[A short silence.
Maximus.
Thou art silent.
Julian.
He is no longer here.
Maximus.
[Looking up.] Didst thou know him?
121Julian.
Yes.
Maximus.
How was he called in life?
Julian.
Judas Iscariot.
Maximus.
[Springing up.] The abyss blossoms; the night betrays itself!
Julian.
[Shrieks to him.] Forth with the third!
Maximus.
He shall come!
[He waves the wand.
Come forth, thou third corner-stone! Come forth, thou third great freed-man under necessity!
[He casts himself down again on the couch, and turns his face away.
What seest thou?
Julian.
I see nothing.
Maximus.
And yet he is here.
[He waves the wand again.
By Solomon’s seal, by the eye in the triangle—I conjure thee—come to sight!——
What seest thou now?
Julian.
Nothing, nothing!
122Maximus.
[Waving his wand once more.] Come forth, thou——!
[He stops suddenly, utters a shriek, and springs up from the table.
Ah! lightning in the night! I see it;—all art is in vain.
Julian.
[Rising.] Why? Speak, speak!
Maximus.
The third is not yet among the shades.
Julian.
He lives?
Maximus.
Yes, he lives.
Julian.
And here, sayest thou——!
Maximus.
Here, or there, or among the unborn;—I know not——
Julian.
[Rushing at him.] Thou liest! Thou art deceiving me! Here, here thou saidst——!
Maximus.
Let go my cloak!
Julian.
Then it is thou, or I! But which of us?
Maximus.
Let go my cloak, Julian!
123Julian.
Which of us? Which? All hangs on that!
Maximus.
Thou knowest more than I. What said the voice in the light?
Julian.
The voice in the light——!
[With a cry.] The empire! The empire? To found the empire——!
Maximus.
The third empire!
Julian.
No; a thousand times no! Away, corrupter! I renounce thee and all thy works——
Maximus.
And necessity?
Julian.
I defy necessity! I will not serve it! I am free, free, free![10]
[A noise outside; the dancing-girls and flute-players take to flight.
Maximus.
[Listening towards the right.] What is this alarm and shrieking——?
Julian.
Strange men are forcing their way into the house——
124Maximus.
They are maltreating your servants; they will murder us!
Julian.
Fear not; us no one can hurt.
The Chamberlain Eutherius.
[Comes hastily across the court.] My lord, my lord!
Julian.
What is that noise without?
Eutherius.
Strange men have surrounded the house; they have set a watch at all the doors; they are making their way in—almost by force. Here they come, my lord! Here they are!
The Quaestor Leontes, with a large and richly-attired retinue, enters from the right.
Leontes.
Pardon, a thousand pardons, most gracious lord——
Julian.
[Recoiling a step.] What do I see!
Leontes.
Your servants would have hindered me from entering; and as my errand was of the utmost moment——
Julian.
You here, in Ephesus, my excellent Leontes!
125Leontes.
I have travelled night and day, as the Emperor’s envoy.
Julian.
[Turning pale.] To me? What would the Emperor with me? I swear I am unwitting of any crime. I am sick, Leontes! This man—[Pointing to Maximus]—attends me as my physician.
Leontes.
Permit me, my gracious lord——!
Julian.
Why do you force your way into my house? What is the Emperor’s will?
Leontes.
His will is to gladden you, my lord, by a great and weighty announcement.
Julian.
I pray you, let me know what announcement you bring.
Leontes.
[Kneels.] My most noble lord,—with praise to your good fortune and my own, I hail you Caesar.
The Quaestor’s Followers.
Long live Julian Caesar!
Maximus.
Caesar!
Julian.
[Retreating, with an exclamation.] Caesar! Stand up, Leontes! What mad words are these!
126Leontes.
I do but deliver the Emperor’s commands.
Julian.
I—I Caesar!—Ah, where is Gallus?
Leontes.
Oh, do not ask me.
Julian.
Where is Gallus? Tell me, I conjure you,—where is Gallus?
Leontes.
[Standing up.] Gallus Caesar is with his beloved wife.
Julian.
Dead?
Leontes.
In bliss, with his wife.
Julian.
Dead! dead! Gallus dead! Dead in the midst of his triumphal progress! But when,—and where?
Leontes.
Oh, my dear lord, spare me——
Gregory of Nazianzus.
[Struggling with the guards at the door.] I must go to him! Aside, I say!—Julian!
Julian.
Gregory, brother,—after all, you come again?
127Gregory.
Is it true, what rumour is scattering like a storm of arrows over the city?
Julian.
I am myself transfixed by one of its arrows. Dare I believe in this blending of good hap and of ill?
Gregory.
For Christ’s sake, bid the tempter avaunt!
Julian.
The Emperor’s commands, Gregory!
Gregory.
You will trample on your brother’s bloody corpse——
Julian.
Bloody——?
Gregory.
Know you it not? Gallus Caesar was murdered.
Julian.
[Clasping his hands.] Murdered?
Leontes.
Ah, who is this audacious——?
Julian.
Murdered? Murdered? [To Leontes.] Tell me he lies!
Leontes.
Gallus Caesar has fallen through his own misdeeds.
128Julian.
Murdered!—Who murdered him?
Leontes.
What has occurred was inevitable, my noble lord! Gallus Caesar madly misused his power here in the East. He was no longer content with his rank as Caesar. His conduct, both in Constantinople and elsewhere on his progress, showed clearly what was in his mind.
Julian.
’Tis not his crime I would know, but the rest.
Leontes.
Oh, let me spare a brother’s ears.
Julian.
A brother’s ears can bear what a son’s ears have borne. Who killed him?
Leontes.
The tribune Scudilo, who escorted him, thought it advisable to have him executed.
Julian.
Where? Not in Rome?
Leontes.
No, my lord; it happened on the journey thither,—in the city of Pola, in Illyria.
Julian.
[Bowing himself.] The Emperor is great and righteous.—The last of the race, Gregory!—The Emperor Constantius is great.
129Leontes.
[Taking a purple robe from one of his attendants.] Noble Caesar, deign to array yourself——
Julian.
Red! Away with it! Was it this he wore at Pola——?
Leontes.
This comes fresh from Sidon.
Julian.
[With a look at Maximus.] From Sidon! The purple robe——!
Maximus.
Apollinaris’s vision!
Gregory.
Julian! Julian!
Leontes.
See, this is sent to you by your kinsman, the Emperor. He bids me tell you that, childless as he is, he looks to you to heal this the deepest wound of his life. He wishes to see you in Rome. Afterwards, it is his will that you should go, as Caesar, to Gaul. The border tribes of the Alemanni have passed the Rhine, and made a dangerous inroad into the empire. He builds securely on the success of your campaign against the barbarians. Certain things have been revealed to him in dreams, and his last word to me at my departure was that he was assured you would succeed in establishing the empire.
130Julian.
Establish the empire! The voice in the light, Maximus!
Maximus.
Sign against sign.
Leontes.
How, noble Caesar?
Julian.
I also have been forewarned of certain things; but this——
Gregory.
Say no, Julian! ’Tis the wings of destruction they would fasten on your shoulders.
Leontes.
Who are you, that defy the Emperor?
Gregory.
My name is Gregory; I am the son of the Bishop of Nazianzus;—do with me what you will.
Julian.
He is my friend and brother; let no one touch him!
[A great crowd has meanwhile filled the outer court.
Basil of Caesarea.
[Making his way through the crowd.] Take not the purple, Julian!
Julian.
You, too, my faithful Basil.
131Basil.
Take it not! For the Lord God’s sake——
Julian.
What terrifies you so in this?
Basil.
The horrors that will follow.
Julian.
Through me shall the empire be established.
Basil.
Christ’s empire?
Julian.
The Emperor’s great and beautiful empire.
Basil.
Was that the empire which shone before your eyes when, as a child, you preached the word beside the Cappadocian martyrs’ graves? Was that the empire you set forth from Constantinople to establish on earth? Was that the empire——?
Julian.
Mists, mists;—all that lies behind me like a wild dream.
Basil.
’Twere better you yourself should be at the bottom of the sea, with a mill-stone about your neck, than that that dream should lie behind you.—— See you not the work of the tempter? All the glory of the world is laid at your feet.
132Maximus.
Sign against sign, Caesar!
Julian.
One word, Leontes!
[Seizing his hand and drawing him aside.
Whither do you lead me?
Leontes.
To Rome, my lord.
Julian.
That is not what I ask. Whither do you lead me: to fortune and power,—or to the shambles?
Leontes.
Oh, my lord, so odious a suspicion——
Julian.
My brother’s body can scarce have mouldered yet.
Leontes.
I can silence all doubt. [Taking out a paper.] This letter from the Emperor, which I had thought to hand you in private——
Julian.
A letter? What does he write?——
[He opens the paper and reads.
Ah, Helena! Oh, Leontes! Helena,—Helena to me!
Leontes.
The Emperor gives her to you, my lord! He gives you his beloved sister, for whom Gallus Caesar begged in vain.
133Julian.
Helena to me! The unattainable attained!—But she, Leontes——?
Leontes.
At my departure he took the Princess by the hand and led her to me. A flush of maiden blood swept over her lovely cheeks, she cast down her eyes, and said: “Greet my dear kinsman, and let him know that he has ever been the man whom——”
Julian.
Go on, Leontes!
Leontes.
These words were all she spoke, the modest and pure woman.
Julian.
The pure woman!—How marvellously is all fulfilled!
[He calls loudly.
Robe me in the purple!
Maximus.
You have chosen?
Julian.
Chosen, Maximus!
Maximus.
Chosen, in spite of sign against sign?
Julian.
Here is no sign against sign. Maximus, Maximus, seer though you be, you have been blind. Robe me in the purple!
[The Quaestor Leontes attires him in the mantle.
134Basil.
It is done!
Maximus.
[Murmurs to himself with upstretched hands.] Light and victory be to him who wills!
Leontes.
And now to the Governor’s palace; the people would fain greet Caesar.
Julian.
Caesar, in his exaltation, remains what he was,—the poor lover of wisdom, who owes all to the Emperor’s grace.—To the Governor’s palace, my friends!
Voices among the Quaestor’s Retinue.
Room, room for Julian Caesar!
[All go out through the court, amid the acclamations of the crowd; only Gregory and Basil remain behind.
Basil.
Gregory? Whatever comes of this—let us hold together.
Gregory.
Here is my hand.
135
ACT FOURTH
At Lutetia, in Gaul. A hall in Caesar’s palace, “The Warm Baths,” outside the city. Entrance, door in the back; to the right, another smaller door; in front, on the left, is a window with curtains.
The Princess Helena, richly attired, with pearls in her hair, sits in an arm-chair, and looks out of the window. Her slave, Myrrha, stands opposite her, and holds the curtain aside.
The Princess Helena.
What a multitude! The whole city streams out to meet them.—Hark! Myrrha,—do you not hear flutes and drums?
Myrrha.
Yes, I think I can hear——
Helena.
You lie! The noise is too great; you can hear nothing. [Springing up.] Oh, this torturing uncertainty! Not to know whether he comes as a conqueror or as a fugitive.
Myrrha.
Fear not, my noble mistress; Caesar has always returned a conqueror.
136Helena.
Ay, hitherto; after all his lesser encounters. But this time, Myrrha! This great, fearful battle. All these conflicting rumours. If Caesar were victorious, why should he have sent that letter to the city magistrates, forbidding them to meet him with shows of honour outside the gates?
Myrrha.
Oh, you know well, my lady, how little your noble husband cares for such things.
Helena.
Yes, yes, that is true. And had he been defeated—they must have known it in Rome—would the Emperor have sent us this envoy who is to arrive to-day, and whose courier has brought me all these rich ornaments and gifts? Ah, Eutherius! Well? Well?
The Chamberlain Eutherius.
[From the back.] My Princess, it is impossible to obtain any trustworthy tidings——
Helena.
Impossible? You are deceiving me! The soldiers themselves must surely know——
Eutherius.
They are only barbarian auxiliaries who are coming in—Batavians and others—and they know nothing.
Helena.
[Wringing her hands.] Oh, have I deserved this 137torture? Sweet, holy Christ, have I not called upon Thee day and night——
[She listens and screams out.
Ah, my Julian! I hear him!—Julian; my beloved!
Julian Caesar.
[In dusty armour, enters hastily by the back.] Helena!
Eutherius.
My noble Caesar!
Julian.
[Vehemently embracing the Princess.] Helena!—Bar all the doors, Eutherius!
Helena.
Defeated! Pursued!
Eutherius.
My lord!
Julian.
Double guards at all the doors; let no one pass! Tell me: has any emissary arrived from the Emperor?
Eutherius.
No, my lord; but one is expected.
Julian.
Go, go! [To the Slave.] Away with you.
[Eutherius and Myrrha go out by the back.
Helena.
[Sinking into the arm-chair.] Then all is over with us?
138Julian.
[Drawing the curtains together.] Who knows? If we are cautious, the storm may yet——
Helena.
After such a defeat——?
Julian.
Defeat? What are you talking of, my beloved?
Helena.
Have not the Alemanni defeated you?
Julian.
If they had, you would not have seen me alive.
Helena.
[Springing up.] Then, Lord of Heaven, what has happened?
Julian.
[Softly.] The worst, Helena;—a stupendous victory.
Helena.
Victory, you say! A stupendous victory? You have conquered, and yet——?
Julian.
You know not how I stand. You see only the gilded outside of all a Caesar’s misery.
Helena.
Julian!
139Julian.
Can you blame me for having hidden it from you? Did not both duty and shame constrain me——? Ah, what is this? What a change——!
Helena.
What? What?
Julian.
How these months have changed you! Helena, you have been ill?
Helena.
No, no; but tell me——
Julian.
Yes, you have been ill! You must be ill now;—your fever-flushed temples, the blue rings round your eyes——
Helena.
Oh, ’tis nothing, my beloved! Do not look at me, Julian! ’Tis only anxiety and wakeful nights on your account; ardent prayers to the Blessed One on the cross——
Julian.
Spare yourself, my treasure; it is more than doubtful whether such zeal is of any avail.
Helena.
Fie; you speak impiously.—But tell me of your own affairs, Julian! I implore you, hide nothing from me.
Julian.
Nothing can now be hidden. Since the Empress’s death, I have taken no single step here in 140Gaul that has not been evilly interpreted at court. If I went cautiously to work with the Alemanni, I was called timorous or inert. They laughed at the philosopher, ill at ease in his coat of mail. If I gained an advantage over the barbarians, I was told that I ought to have done more.
Helena.
But all your friends in the army——
Julian.
Who, think you, are my friends in the army? I have not one, my beloved Helena! Yes, one single man—the knight Sallust, of Perusia, to whom, during our marriage feast at Milan, I had to refuse a slight request. He magnanimously came to me in the camp, appealed to our old friendship in Athens, and begged leave to stand at my side in all dangers. But what does Sallust count for at the imperial court? He is one of those whom they call heathens. He can be of no help to me.—And the others! Arbetio, the tribune, who left me in the lurch when I was blockaded by the Senones! Old Severus, burdened with the sense of his own impotence, yet unable to reconcile himself to my new strategy! Or think you I can depend on Florentius, the captain of the Praetorians? I tell you, that turbulent man is filled with the most unbridled ambitions.
Helena.
Ah, Julian!
Julian.
[Pacing up and down.] If I could but come to the bottom of their intrigues! Every week secret letters pass between the camp and Rome. Everything I do is set down and distorted. No slave in the 141empire is so fettered as Caesar. Would you believe it, Helena, even my cook has to abide by a bill of fare sent to him by the Emperor; I may not alter it, either by adding or countermanding a single dish!
Helena.
And all this you have borne in secrecy——!
Julian.
All know it, except you. All mock at Caesar’s powerlessness. I will bear it no longer! I will not bear it!
Helena.
But the great battle——? Tell me,—has rumour exaggerated——?
Julian.
Rumour could not exaggerate.—Hush; what was that? [Listening towards the door.] No, no; I only thought——
I may say that in these months I have done all that mortal man could do. Step by step, and in spite of all hindrances in my own camp, I drove the barbarians back towards the eastern frontier. Before Argentoratum, with the Rhine at his back, King Knodomar gathered all his forces together. He was joined by five kings and ten lesser princes. But before he had collected the necessary boats for his retreat in case of need, I led my army to the attack.
Helena.
My hero, my Julian!
142Julian.
Lupicinus, with the spearmen and the light-armed troops, outflanked the enemy on the north; the old legions, under Severus, drove the barbarians more and more to the eastward, towards the river; our allies, the Batavians, under the faithful Bainabaudes, stood gallantly by the legions; and when Knodomar saw that his case was desperate, he tried to make off southwards, in order to reach the islands. But before he could escape, I sent Florentius to intercept him with the Praetorian guards and the cavalry. Helena, I dare not say it aloud, but certain it is that treachery or envy had nearly robbed me of the fruits of victory. The Roman cavalry recoiled time after time before the barbarians, who threw themselves down on the ground and stabbed the horses in the belly. Defeat stared us in the face——
Helena.
But the God of Battles was with you!
Julian.
I seized a standard, fired the Imperial Guards by my shouts, made them a hasty address, which was, perhaps, not quite unworthy of a more enlightened audience, and then, rewarded by the soldiers’ acclamations, I plunged headlong into the thickest of the fight.
Helena.
Julian! Oh, you do not love me!
Julian.
At that moment you were not in my thoughts. 143I wished to die; for I despaired of victory. But it came, my love! It seemed as though lightnings of terror flashed from our lance-points. I saw Knodomar, that redoutable warrior—ah, you have seen him too—I saw him fleeing on foot from the battlefield, and with him his brother Vestralp, and the kings Hortar and Suomar, and all who had not fallen by our swords.
Helena.
Oh, I can see it; I can see it! Blessed Saviour, ’twas thou that didst again send forth the destroying angels of the Milvian Bridge!
Julian.
Never have I heard such shrieks of despair; never seen such gaping wounds as those we trampled on, as we waded through the slain. The river did the rest; the drowning men struggled among themselves until they rolled over, and went to the bottom. Most of the princes fell living into our hands; Knodomar himself had sought refuge in a bed of reeds; one of his attendants betrayed him, and our bowmen sent a shower of arrows into his hiding-place, but without hitting him. Then, of his own accord, he gave himself up.
Helena.
And after such a victory do you not feel secure?
Julian.
[Hesitatingly.] On the very evening of the victory an accident occurred, a trifle——
Helena.
An accident?
144Julian.
I prefer to call it so. In Athens we used to speculate much upon Nemesis.—My victory was so overwhelming, Helena; my position had, as it were, got out of balance; I do not know——
Helena.
Oh, speak, speak; you put me on the rack!
Julian.
It was a trifle, I tell you. I ordered the captive Knodomar to be brought before me, in the presence of the army. Before the battle, he had threatened that I should be flayed alive when I fell into his hands. Now he came towards me with faltering steps, trembling in every limb. Crushed by disaster, as the barbarians are apt to be, he cast himself down before me, embraced my knees, shed tears, and begged for his life.
Helena.
His mighty frame quivering with dread—I can see the prostrate Knodomar.—Did you kill him, my beloved?
Julian.
I could not kill that man. I granted him his life, and promised to send him as a prisoner to Rome.
Helena.
Without torturing him?
Julian.
Prudence bade me deal mercifully with him. But then—I cannot tell how it happened—with a 145cry of overflowing gladness, the barbarian sprang up, stretched his pinioned hands into the air, and, half ignorant as he is of our language, shouted with a loud voice: “Praise be to thee, Julian, thou mighty Emperor!”
Helena.
Ah!
Julian.
My attendants were inclined to laugh; but the barbarian’s shout flew like a lightning-flash through the surrounding soldiery, kindling as it went. “Long live the Emperor Julian,” those who stood nearest repeated; and the cry spread around in wider and ever wider circles to the furthest distance. ’Twas as though some Titan had hurled a mighty rock far out into the ocean;—oh, my beloved, forgive me the heathen similitude, but——
Helena.
Emperor Julian! He said Emperor Julian!
Julian.
What did the rude Aleman know of Constantius, whom he had never seen? I, his conqueror, was in his eyes the greatest——
Helena.
Yes, yes; but the soldiers——?
Julian.
I rebuked them sternly; for I saw at a glance how Florentius, Severus, and certain others stood silently by, white with fear and wrath.
146Helena.
Yes, yes, they—but not the soldiers.
Julian.
Before a single night had passed my secret foes had distorted the affair. “Caesar has induced Knodomar to proclaim him Emperor,” the story went, “and in requital he has granted the barbarian his life.” And, thus inverted, the news has travelled to Rome.
Helena.
Are you sure of that? And through whom?
Julian.
Ah, through whom? through whom? I myself wrote at once to the Emperor and told him everything, but——
Helena.
Well—and how did he answer?
Julian.
As usual. You know his ominous silence when he means to strike a blow.
Helena.
I believe you misinterpret all this. It must be so. You will see that his envoy will soon assure you of——
Julian.
I am assured, Helena! Here, in my bosom, I have some intercepted letters, which——
Helena.
Oh, Lord my God, let me see!
147Julian.
By-and-by.By-and-by.
[He walks up and down.
And all this after the services I have rendered him! I have put a stop to the inroads of the Alemanni for years to come, whilst he himself has suffered defeat after defeat on the Danube, and the army in Asia seems to make no way against the Persians. Shame and disaster on all sides, except here, where he placed a reluctant philosopher at the head of affairs. Yet none the less am I the scorn of the court. Even after the last great victory, they have lampooned me, and called me Victorinus. This must come to an end.
Helena.
So I, too, think.
Julian.
On such terms, what is the title of Caesar worth?
Helena.
No; you are right, Julian; things cannot go on thus!
Julian.
[Stopping.] Helena, could you follow me?
Helena.
[Softly.] Have no fear for me; I will not fail you.
Julian.
Then away from all this thankless toil; away to the solitude I have sighed for so long——!
148Helena.
What do you say? Solitude!
Julian.
With you, my beloved; and with my dear books, that I have so seldom been able to open here, save only on my sleepless nights.
Helena.
[Looking him down from head to foot.] Ah, that is what you mean!
Julian.
What else?
Helena.
Ay, truly; what else?
Julian.
Yes, yes—I ask, what else?
Helena.
[Coming nearer.] Julian—how did the barbarian king hail you?
Julian.
[Shrinking.] Helena!
Helena.
[Still nearer.] What was the name that echoed through the ranks of the legions?
Julian.
Rash woman; there may be an eavesdropper at every door!
149Helena.
Why should you fear eavesdroppers? Is not God’s grace upon you? Have you not been victorious in every encounter?—I see the Saviour calling upon you; I see the angel with the flaming sword, who cleared the way for my father when he drove Maxentius into the Tiber!
Julian.
Shall I rebel against the ruler of the empire?
Helena.
Only against those who stand between you. Oh, go, go; smite them with the lightning of your wrath; put an end to this harassing, joyless life! Gaul is an outer wilderness. I am so cold here, Julian! I pine for home, for the sunshine of Rome and Greece.
Julian.
For home and your brother?
Helena.
[Softly.] Constantius is but a wreck.
Julian.
Helena!
Helena.
I can bear it no longer, I tell you. Time is flying. Eusebia is gone; her empty seat invites me to honour and greatness, while I am ageing——
Julian.
You are not ageing; you are young and fair!
150Helena.
No, no, no! Time speeds; I cannot bear this patiently; life slips away from me!
Julian.
[Gazing at her.] How temptingly beautiful, how divine you are!
Helena.
[Clinging to him.] Am I so indeed, Julian?
Julian.
[Embracing her.] You are the only woman I have loved,—the only one who has loved me.
Helena.
I am older than you. I will not age still more. When all is over, then——
Julian.
[Tearing himself away.] Hush! I will hear no more.
Helena.
[Following him.] Constantius is dying by inches; he hangs by a hair over the grave. Oh, my beloved Julian, you have the soldiers on your side——
Julian.
No more, no more!
Helena.
He can bear no agitation. What is there, then, to recoil from? I mean nothing bloody. Fie, how can you think so? The terror will be enough; it will fold him in its embrace and gently end his sufferings.
151Julian.
Do you forget the invisible bodyguard around the Lord’s anointed?
Helena.
Christ is good. Oh, be pious, Julian, and He will forgive much. I will help. Prayers shall go up for you. Praised be the saints! Praised be the martyrs! Trust me, we will atone for everything later. Give me the Alemanni to convert; I will send out priests among them; they shall bow under the mercy of the cross.
Julian.
The Alemanni will not bow.
Helena.
Then they shall die! Like sweet incense shall their blood rise up to Him, the blessed One. We will magnify His glory; His praise shall be made manifest in us. I myself will do my part. The women of the Alemanni shall be my care. If they will not bow, they shall be sacrificed! And then, my Julian—when next you see me——; young, young once more! Give me the women of the Alemanni, my beloved! Blood—’twould be no murder, and the remedy is a sovereign one—a bath of young virgins’ blood——
Julian.
Helena, the thought is crime!
Helena.
Is it crime to commit crime for your sake?
152Julian.
You beautiful, you peerless one!
Helena.
[Bowing herself down over his hands.] My lord before God and men!—Draw not back this time, Julian! My hero, my Emperor! I see heaven open. Priests shall sing praises to Christ; my women shall assemble in prayer. [With upraised arms.] Oh, thou blessed One! Oh, thou God of Hosts,—thou, in whose hand lie grace and victory——
Julian.
[With a look towards the door, exclaims:] Helena!
Helena.
Ah!
The Chamberlain Eutherius.
[From the back.] My lord, the Emperor’s emissary——
Julian.
Is he come?
Eutherius.
Yes, my lord!
Julian.
His name? Who is he?
Eutherius.
The tribune Decentius.
Julian.
Indeed? The pious Decentius!
153Julian.
Has he talked with any one?
Eutherius.
With no one, my lord; he has this moment arrived.
Julian.
I will see him at once. And listen; one thing more. Summon the captains and officers to me here.
Eutherius.
It is well, most gracious lord.
[He goes out by the back.
Julian.
Now, my Helena, now we shall see——
Helena.
[Softly.] Whatever happens, forget not that you can trust in the soldiers.
Julian.
Ah, trust, trust——; I am not sure that I can trust in any one.
The Tribune Decentius enters from the back.
Helena.
[Meeting him.] Welcome, noble Decentius! A Roman face,—and, above all, this face,—oh! it sheds genial sunlight over our inclement Gaul.
Decentius.
The Emperor meets your longing and your hope half-way, noble Princess! We may hope that Gaul will not much longer hold you in its chains.
154Helena.
Say you so, messenger of gladness? So the Emperor still thinks lovingly of me? How is it with his health?
Julian.
Go, go, my beloved Helena!
Decentius.
The Emperor’s health is certainly no worse.
Helena.
No, surely not? I thought as much. All those alarming rumours——; God be praised that they were but rumours! Thank him most lovingly, good Decentius! And let me thank you too. What splendid gifts have heralded your coming! Imperial——no, let me say brotherly gifts indeed! Two shining black Nubians,—you should see them, my Julian!—and pearls! See, I am wearing them already. And fruits,—sweet, luscious fruits! Ah, peaches from Damascus, peaches in chalices of gold! How they will refresh me;—fruit, fruit; I am pining away here in Gaul.
Julian.
A feast shall end the day; but business first. Go, my precious wife!
Helena.
I go to the church,—to pray for my brother and for all good hopes.
[She goes out to the right.
Julian.
[After an instant’s pause.] A message, or letters?
155Decentius.
Letters.
[He hands him a roll of paper.
Julian.
[Reads, represses a smile, and holds out his hand.] More!
Decentius.
Noble Caesar, that is well-nigh all.
Julian.
Truly? Has the Emperor sent his friend all this long way only to——?
[He bursts into a short laugh, and then walks up and down.
Had Knodomar, the King of the Alemanni, arrived in Rome ere you left?
Decentius.
Yes, noble Caesar!
Julian.
And how fares he in the strange land, ignorant as he is of our tongue! For he knows nought of it, Decentius! He was positively a laughing-stock to my soldiers. Only think, he mixed up two such common words as Emperor and Caesar.
Decentius.
[Shrugging his shoulders.] A barbarian. What can one expect?
Julian.
No, what can one expect? But the Emperor has received him graciously?
156Decentius.
Knodomar is dead, my lord!
Julian.
[Stopping suddenly.] Knodomar dead!
Decentius.
Dead, in the foreigners’ quarters, on the Coelian hill.
Julian.
Dead? Indeed!—Ah, the Roman air is unwholesome.
Decentius.
The King of the Alemanni died of home-sickness, my lord! The longing for kindred and freedom——
Julian.
——wastes a man away, Decentius; yes, yes, I know that.—I should not have sent him living to Rome. I should have had him killed here.
Decentius.
Caesar’s heart is merciful.
Julian.
H’m——! Home-sickness? Indeed!
To the Master of the Horse, Sintula, who enters by the back.
Are you there, old faun? Tempt me no more.
[To Decentius.] Since the battle at Argentoratum, he is for ever talking to me of the triumphal chariot and the white horses. [To Sintula.] ’Twould be like Phaeton’s career with the 157Lybian sun-horses. How did that end? Have you forgotten—have you forgotten your heathendom, I had almost said?—Pardon me, Decentius, for wounding your pious ear.
Decentius.
Caesar delights his servant’s ear; he cannot wound it.
Julian.
Yes, yes; bear with Caesar’s jesting. In truth I know not how else to take the matter.—Here they are.
Severus and Florentius, together with other captains and gentlemen of Caesar’s court, enter from the back.
Julian.
[Advancing to receive them.] Greeting to you, brothers in arms and friends. Blame me not overmuch for summoning you hither, straight from the dust and toil of the march; truly, I should not have grudged you some hours’ rest; but——
Florentius.
Has aught of moment happened, my lord?
Julian.
Aye, truly. Can you tell me—what was lacking to complete Caesar’s happiness?
Florentius.
What should be lacking to complete Caesar’s happiness?
158Julian.
Now, nothing. [To Decentius.] The army has demanded that I should enter the city in triumph. They would have had me pass through the gates of Lutetia at the head of the legions. Captive barbarian princes, with pinioned hands, were to march beside my chariot-wheels; women and slaves from twenty conquered peoples were to follow, crowded closely together, head against head—— [Breaking off suddenly.] Rejoice, my valiant fellow soldiers; here you see the Tribune Decentius, the Emperor’s trusted friend and councillor. He has arrived this morning with gifts and greetings from Rome.
Florentius.
Ah, then indeed naught can be lacking to complete Caesar’s happiness.
Severus.
[Softly to Florentius.] Incomprehensible! Then he is in the Emperor’s grace again!
Florentius.
[Softly.] Oh, this unstable Emperor!
Julian.
You seem all to be struck dumb with astonishment.—They think the Emperor has done too much, good Decentius!Decentius!
Florentius.
How can Caesar think such a thought?
159Severus.
Too much, noble Caesar? By no means. Who doubts that the Emperor knows how to set due bounds to his favour?
Florentius.
This is in truth a rare and remarkable distinction——
Severus.
I should even call it beyond measure rare and remarkable——
Florentius.
And especially does it afford a striking proof that our august Emperor’s mind is free from all jealousy——
Severus.
An unexampled proof, I venture to call it.
Florentius.
But then, what has not Caesar achieved in these few years in Gaul?
Julian.
A year-long dream, dear friends! I have achieved nothing. Nothing, nothing!
Florentius.
All this your modesty counts as nothing? What was the army when you took command? A disorderly rabble——
Severus.
——without coherence, without discipline, without direction——
160Julian.
You exaggerate, Severus!
Florentius.
And was it not with this undisciplined rabble that you took the field against the Alemanni? Did you not win battle after battle with these levies, till your victories transformed them into an invincible host? Did you not retake Colonia Agrippina——?
Julian.
Come come, you see with the eye of friendship, my Florentius!—Or is it really so? Is it a fact, that I drove the barbarians out of the islands of the Rhine! That I placed the ruined Tres Tabernae in a posture of defence, making it a bulwark of the empire? Is it really so?
Florentius.
What, my lord! Can you be in doubt as to so great deeds?
Julian.
No, I cannot but think—— And the battle of Argentoratum? Was I not there? I cannot but fancy that I defeated Knodomar. And after the victory——; Florentius, have I dreamt it, or did I rebuild Trajan’s fortress, when we marched into German territory?
Florentius.
Noble Caesar, is there any man so mad as to deny you the honour of these exploits?
Severus.
[To Decentius.] I praise the destiny that has vouchsafed to my old age so victorious a leader.
161Florentius.
[Also to the Tribune.] I dare scarcely think what turn this inroad of the Alemanni might have taken, but for Caesar’s courage and conduct.
Many Courtiers.
[Pressing forward.] Yes, yes; Caesar is great!
Others.
[Clapping their hands.] Caesar is peerless!
Julian.
[Looks for a time alternately at Decentius and the others; thereupon breaks out into a loud, short laugh.] So blind is friendship, Decentius! So blind, so blind!
[He turns to the rest, and taps the roll of paper in his hand.
Here I read far other tidings! listen and drink in the refreshing dew of knowledge. This is the Emperor’s despatch to all the proconsuls of the empire;—our excellent Decentius has brought me a copy of it. Here we learn that I have accomplished nothing in Gaul. It was, as I told you, a dream. Here we have the Emperor’s own words: it was under the Emperor’s happy auspices that the imminent danger to the empire was averted.
Florentius.
All the affairs of the empire flourish under the Emperor’s auspices.
Julian.
More, more. It is here set forth that it was the Emperor who fought and conquered on the 162Rhine; it was the Emperor who raised up the King of the Alemanni, as he lay grovelling before him. My name is not fortunate enough to find any place in this document,—nor yours, Florentius, nor yours, Severus! And here, in the description of the battle of Argentoratum—where was it? Yes, here it stands!—it was the Emperor who determined the order of battle; it was the Emperor himself who, at peril of his life, fought till his sword was blunted, in the forefront of the battle: it was the Emperor who, by the terror of his presence, put the barbarians to headlong flight——; read, read, I tell you!
Severus.
Noble Caesar, your word suffices.
Julian.
What mean you, then, by your deluding speeches, my friends? Would you, in your too great love for me, make me a parasite, to be fed with the leavings you have pilfered from my kinsman’s table?—What think you, Decentius? What say you to this? You see, in my own camp, I have to keep an eye on adherents who, in their blind zeal, are sometimes in danger of straying over the border-line of revolt.
Florentius.
[Hastily, to the Tribune.] I assure you, my words have been sadly misconstrued if——
Severus.
[Also to the Tribune.] It could never enter my mind to——
163Julian.
That is right, my brothers in arms; let us all agree to swallow our vainglory. I asked what was lacking to complete Caesar’s happiness. Now you know it. ’Twas the recognition of the truth that was lacking in Caesar’s happiness. Your silver helmet will never be dimmed with the dust of the triumph, Florentius! The Emperor has already triumphed for us, in Rome. He therefore declares all festivities here to be superfluous. Go, Sintula, and see that the intended procession is countermanded. The Emperor wishes to give his soldiers a much-needed rest. ’Tis his will that they remain in the camp outside the walls.
[The Master of the Horse, Sintula, goes out by the back.
Julian.
Was I not once a philosopher? They said so, at least, both in Athens and Ephesus. So weak is human nature in the hours of success; I had almost been false to philosophy. The Emperor has brought me to my senses. Thank him most humbly, Decentius. Have you more to say?
Decentius.
One thing more. From all the Emperor has learnt, and especially from the letter you wrote him from Argentoratum, it appears that the great work of pacification in Gaul is happily accomplished.
Julian.
Most certainly; the Emperor, partly by his valour, partly by his magnanimous clemency——
164Decentius.
The Rhine frontier of the empire has been placed in security.
Julian.
By the Emperor, by the Emperor.
Decentius.
In the Danubian provinces, on the contrary, affairs are going ill; and still worse in Asia—King Sapor makes constant progress.
Julian.
What audacity! Rumour has it that not even in this summer’s campaign has the Emperor been pleased to let his generals crush him.
Decentius.
The Emperor intends to do so himself in the spring. [Producing a roll of papers.] Here he makes known his will, noble Caesar.
Julian.
Let us see, let us see! [Reading.] Ah!
[He reads again for a long time, with signs of deep inward emotion; then he looks up and says:
Then, ’tis the Emperor’s will that——? Good, good, noble Decentius; the Emperor’s will shall be done.
Decentius.
It must be done, this very day.
Julian.
This very day; of course. Come hither, Sintula! 165Where is he?—Ah, I remember!—Call Sintula back!
[A courtier goes out by the back; Julian retires to the window, and reads the papers through once more.
Florentius.
[In a low voice, to the Tribune.] I implore you not to misinterpret what I said. When I gave Caesar the credit, of course I did not mean to——
Severus.
[In a low voice.] It could never occur to me to doubt that it was the Emperor’s supreme and wise direction that——
A Courtier.
[On the other side of the Tribune.] I beg you, noble sir,—put in a word for me at court, and release me from this painful position in the household of a Caesar who——; well, he is the Emperor’s exalted kinsman, but——
Another Courtier.
I could tell you, alas! of things that indicate not only boundless vanity, but overweening ambition——
Julian.
This very day! Let me say one word, Decentius! It has long been my dearest wish to lay down this burden of responsibility.
Decentius.
It shall be conveyed to the Emperor.
166Julian.
I call heaven to witness that I never——; Ah, here is Sintula; now we can——[To the Tribune.] You are going?
Decentius.
I have affairs to transact with the generals, noble Caesar!
Julian.
Without my intervention?
Decentius.
The Emperor commands me to spare his beloved kinsman.
[He goes out by the back, followed by the others, except Sintula, who remains standing at the door.
Julian.
[Looking at him awhile.] Sintula!
Sintula.
Yes, noble master!
Julian.
Come nearer—Yes, by my faith, you look honest. Pardon me; I never thought you could be so attached to me.
Sintula.
How know you that I am attached to you, my lord?
Julian.
[Pointing to the roll of paper.] I can read it here, in this; it is written that you are to desert me.
167Sintula.
I, my lord?
Julian.
The Emperor disbands the army of Gaul, Sintula!
Sintula.
Disbands——?
Julian.
Yes, what is it but a disbanding? The Emperor needs reinforcements, both on the Danube, and against the Persians. Our Batavian and Herulian auxiliaries are to depart with all speed, in order to reach Asia in the spring.
Sintula.
But the thing is impossible, my lord. You have solemnly sworn to these very allies that they shall in no case be called upon to serve beyond the Alps.
Julian.
Just so, Sintula! The Emperor writes that I gave that promise over hastily, and without his consent. This is quite a new light to me; but here it stands. I am to be forced to break my word, dishonour myself in the eyes of the army, turn against me the unbridled rage of the barbarians, perhaps their murderous weapons.
Sintula.
They cannot hurt you, my lord! The Roman legions will make their breasts your shield.
Julian.
The Roman legions. H’m;—my simple-minded friend! From every Roman legion three hundred 168men are to be drafted off, and are likewise to join the Emperor by the shortest route.
Sintula.
Ah! This is——?
Julian.
Well planned, is it not? Every branch of the army is to be set against me, that I may the more easily be disarmed.
Sintula.
And I tell you, my lord, that not one of your generals will lend himself to such a design.
Julian.
My generals are not to be led into temptation. You are the man.
Sintula.
I, my Caesar!
Julian.
Here it is written. The Emperor commissions you to take all necessary measures, and then to lead the chosen detachments to Rome.
Sintula.
This task assigned to me? With men here like Florentius and old Severus——
Julian.
You have no victories to your discredit, Sintula!
Sintula.
No, that is true. I have never been allowed an opportunity of showing——
169Julian.
I have been unjust to you. Thanks for your fidelity.
Sintula.
So great an imperial honour! My lord, may I see——
Julian.
What would you see? You surely would not lend yourself to such a design.
Sintula.
God forbid that I should disobey the Emperor!
Julian.
Sintula,—would you disarm your Caesar?
Sintula.
Caesar has ever undervalued me. Caesar has never forgiven me the fact of his having to endure about his person a Master of the Horse chosen by the Emperor.
Julian.
The Emperor is great and wise; he chooses well.
Sintula.
My lord,—I long to set about my duty; may I beg to see the Emperor’s commission?
Julian.
[Handing him one of the papers.] Here is the Emperor’s commission. Go, and do your duty.
170Myrrha.
[Entering hastily from the right.] Oh merciful Redeemer!
Julian.
Myrrha! What is the matter?
Myrrha.
Oh kind heaven, my mistress——
Julian.
Your mistress,—what of her?
Myrrha.
Sickness or frenzy——; help, help!
Julian.
Helena sick! The physician! Oribases must come, Sintula! Summon him!
[Sintula goes out by the back. Julian is hastening out to the right, when at the door he meets the Princess Helena, surrounded by female slaves. Her countenance is wild and distorted, her hair and clothes are in disorder.
Helena.
Loosen the comb! Loosen the comb, I say! It is red hot. My hair is on fire; I burn, I burn!
Julian.
Helena! For God’s pity’s sake——!
Helena.
Will no one help me? They are killing me with needle-pricks!
171Julian.
My Helena! What has befallen you?
Helena.
Myrrha, Myrrha! Save me from the women, Myrrha!
The Physician Oribases.
[Entering from the back.] What horror do I hear——? Is it true? Ah!
Julian.
Helena! My love, light of my life——!
Helena.
Away from me! Oh sweet Jesus, help!
[She half swoons among the slave-girls.
Julian.
She is raving. What can it be, Oribases?—See—see her eyes, how large——!
Oribases.
[To Myrrha.] What has the Princess taken? What has she been eating or drinking?
Julian.
Ah, you think——?
Oribases.
Answer, women; what have you given the Princess?Princess?
Myrrha.
We? Oh nothing, I swear; she herself——
172Oribases.
Well? Well?
Myrrha.
Some fruits; they were peaches, I think;—oh, I know not——
Julian.
Fruits! Peaches? Some of those which——?
Myrrha.
Yes—no—yes; I do not know, my lord; it was two Nubians——
Julian.
Help, help, Oribases!
Oribases.
Alas, I fear——
Julian.
No, no, no!
Oribases.
Hush, gracious lord; she is coming to herself.
Helena.
[Whispering.] Why did the sun go down? Oh holy mysterious darkness!
Julian.
Helena! Listen; collect your thoughts——
Oribases.
My noble Princess——
Julian.
It is the physician, Helena! [He takes her hand.] No, here, where I stand.
173Helena.
[Tearing her hand away.] Faugh! there he was again!
Julian.
She does not see me. Here, here, Helena!
Helena.
The loathsome creature;—he is always about me.
Julian.
What does she mean?
Oribases.
Stand apart, gracious lord——!
Helena.
Sweet stillness! He does not dream——; oh my Gallus!
Julian.
Gallus!
Oribases.
Go, noble Caesar; it is not meet——!
Helena.
How boldly your close-curling hair curves over your neck! Oh that short, thick neck——
Julian.
Abyss of all abysses——!
Oribases.
The delirium is increasing——
174Julian.
I see, I see. We must take note, Oribases!
Helena.
[Laughing softly.] Now he would be taking notes again.—Ink on his fingers; book-dust in his hair—unwashed; faugh, faugh, how he stinks.
Myrrha.
My lord, shall I not——?
Julian.
Away with you, woman!
Helena.
How could you let yourself be conquered by him, you great-limbed, bronzed barbarian? He cannot conquer women. How I loathe this impotent virtue.
Julian.
Stand apart, all of you! Not so near, Oribases! I myself will watch the Princess.
Helena.
Art thou wroth with me, thou glorious one? Gallus is dead. Beheaded. What a blow that must have been! Be not jealous, oh my first and last? Burn Gallus in hell fire;—it was none but thou, thou, thou——!
Julian.
No nearer, Oribases!
Helena.
Kill the priest, too! I will not see him after 175this. Thou knowest our sweet secret. Oh thou, my days’ desire, my nights’ delight! It was thou thyself—in the form of thy servant—in the oratory; yes, yes, thou wast there; it was thou—in the darkness, in the heavy air, in the shrouding incense-clouds, that night, when the Caesar growing beneath my heart——
Julian.
[Recoiling with a cry.] Ah!
Helena.
[With outstretched arms.] My lover and my lord! Mine, mine——!
[She falls swooning on the floor; the slave-girls hasten forward and crowd round her.
Julian.
[Stands for a moment immovable; then shakes his clenched fist in the air, and cries:] Galilean!
[The slave-girls carry the Princess out on the right; at the same moment the Knight Sallust comes hastily in by the door in the back.
Sallust.
The Princess in a swoon! Oh, then it is true!
Julian.
[Grasps the Physician by the arm, and leads him aside.] Tell me the truth. Did you know before to-day that——; you understand me; have you known aught of——the Princess’s condition?
Oribases.
I, like every one else, my lord.
176Julian.
And you said naught to me, Oribases!
Oribases.
Of what, my Caesar?
Julian.
How dared you conceal it from me?
Oribases.
My lord, there was one thing we none of us knew.
Julian.
And that was?
Oribases.
That Caesar knew nothing. [He is going.]
Julian.
Where are you going?
Oribases.
To try the remedies my art prescribes——
Julian.
I believe your art will prove powerless.
Oribases.
My lord, it is yet possible that——
Julian.
Powerless, I tell you!
Oribases.
[Retiring a step.] Noble Caesar, it is my duty to disobey you in this.
177Julian.
What think you I mean? Go, go; try what your art——; save the Emperor’s sister; the Emperor will be inconsolable if his thoughtful affection should bring any disaster in its train. Of course you know that those fruits were a gift from the Emperor?
Oribases.
Ah!
Julian.
Go, go, man,—try what your art——
Oribases.
[Bowing reverently.] I believe my art will prove powerless, my lord!
[He goes out to the right.
Julian.
Ah, is it you, Sallust? What think you? The waves of fate are once more beginning to sweep over my race.
Sallust.
Oh, but rescue is at hand. Oribases will——
Julian.
[Shortly and decisively.] The Princess will die.
Sallust.
Oh, if I dared speak! If I dared trace out the secret threads in this web of destruction!
Julian.
Be of good cheer, friend; all the threads shall be brought to light, and then——
178Decentius.
[Entering from the back.] How shall I look Caesar in the face! How inscrutable are the ways of God! Crushed to earth——; oh that you could but read my heart! That I should be the harbinger of sorrow and disaster——!
Julian.
Yes, that you may say twice over, noble Decentius! And how shall I find soft and specious enough terms to bring this in any endurable guise to the ears of her imperial brother!
Decentius.
Alas that such a thing should happen so close upon the coming of my mission! And just at this moment! Oh, what a thunderbolt from a cloudless sky of hope!
Julian.
Oh, this towering and devouring tempest, just as the ship seemed running into the long-desired haven! Oh, this—this——! Sorrow makes us eloquent, Decentius,—you as well as me. But first to business. The two Nubians must be seized and examined.
Decentius.
The Nubians, my lord? Could you dream that my indignant zeal would for another instant suffer the two negligent servants to——?
Julian.
What! Surely you have not already——?
179Decentius.
Call me hasty, if you will, noble Caesar. ButCaesar. But my love to the Emperor and to his sorrow-stricken house would in truth be less than it is if, in such an hour, I were capable of calm reflection.
Julian.
Have you killed both the slaves?
Decentius.
Had not their negligence deserved a sevenfold death? They were two heathen savages, my lord! Their testimony would have been worthless; it was impossible to wring anything out of them, save that they had left their precious charge standing for some time unwatched in the antechamber, accessible to every one——
Julian.
Aha! Had they indeed, Decentius?
Decentius.
I accuse no one. But oh, beloved Caesar, I bid you beware; for you are surrounded by faithless servants. Your court—by an unhappy misunderstanding!—fancies that some sort of disfavour—or what should I call it?—is implied in the measures which the Emperor has found it necessary to adopt; in short——
Sintula.
[Entering from the back.] My lord, you have imposed on me a charge I can in no way fulfil.
Julian.
The Emperor imposed it, good Sintula!
180Sintula.
Relieve me of it, my lord; it is utterly beyond me.
Decentius.
What has happened?
Sintula.
The camp is in wild revolt. The legions and the allies are banding together——
Decentius.
Rebelling against the Emperor’s will!
Sintula.
The soldiers are shouting that they appeal to Caesar’s promises.
Julian.
Hark! hark! that roar outside——!
Sintula.
The rioters are rushing hither——
Decentius.
Let no one enter!
Sallust.
[At the window.] Too late; the whole courtyard is filled with angry soldiers.
Decentius.
Caesar’s precious life is in danger! Where is Florentius?
Sintula.
Fled.
181Decentius.
The blustering coward! And Severus?
Sintula.
Severus feigns sickness; he has driven out to his farm.
Julian.
I myself will speak to the madmen.
Decentius.
Not a step, noble Caesar!
Julian.
What now?
Decentius.
’Tis my duty, gracious lord; the Emperor’s command—; his beloved kinsman’s life—; Caesar is my prisoner.
Sallust.
Ah!
Julian.
So it has come at last!
Decentius.
The household guard, Sintula! You must conduct Caesar in safety to Rome.
Julian.
To Rome!
Sintula.
What say you, my lord?
Decentius.
To Rome, I say!
182Julian.
Like Gallus! [He shouts through the window.] Help, help!
Sallust.
Fly, my Caesar! Fly, fly!
Wild cries are heard without. Soldiers of the Roman legions, Batavian auxiliaries, and other alliesallies climb in through the window. At the same time, others swarm in by the door at the back. Amongst the foremost is the Standard-Bearer Maurus; women, some with children in their arms, follow the intruders.
Cries among the Soldiers.
Caesar, Caesar!Caesar!
Other Voices.
Caesar, why have you betrayed us?
Again Others.
Down with the faithless Caesar!Caesar!
Julian.
[Casts himself with outstretched arms into the midst of the soldiers, crying:] Fellow-soldiers, brothers in arms,—save me from my enemies!
Decentius.
Ah, what is this——?
Wild Cries.
Down with Caesar! Strike him down!
Julian.
Close round me in a circle; draw your swords!
183Maurus.
They are drawn already!
Women.
Strike him, cut him down!
Julian.
I thank you for coming! Maurus! Honest Maurus! Yes, yes; you I can trust.
A Batavian Soldier.
How dare you send us to the ends of the earth? Was that what you swore to us?
Other Allies.
Not over the Alps! We are not bound to go!
Julian.
Not to Rome! I will not go; they would murder me, as they murdered my brother Gallus!
Maurus.
What say you, my lord?
Decentius.
Do not believe him!
Julian.
Lay no finger on the noble Decentius; the fault is not his.
Laipso.
[A Subaltern.] That is true; the fault is Caesar’s.
184Julian.
Ah, is that you, Laipso! My gallant friend, is that you? You fought well at Argentoratum.
Laipso.
Caesar has not forgotten that?
Varro.
[A Subaltern.] But he forgets his promises!
Julian.
Was not that the voice of the undaunted Varro? Ah, there he is! Your wound is healed, I see. Oh, well-deserving soldier,—why would they not let me make you captain?
Varro.
Was it indeed your wish?
Julian.
Blame not the Emperor for refusing my request. The Emperor knows none of you as I know you.
Decentius.
Soldiers, hear me——!
Many Voices.
We have nothing to do with the Emperor!
Others.
[Pressing forward menacingly.] It is Caesar we call to account!
185Julian.
What power has your hapless Caesar, my friends? They would take me to Rome. They deny even the control of my private affairs. They seize upon my share of the spoils of war. I thought to give every soldier five gold pieces and a pound of silver, but——
The Soldiers.
What does he say?
Julian.
’Tis not the Emperor who forbids it, but bad and envious councillors. The Emperor is good, my dear friends! But oh, the Emperor is sick; he can do nothing——
Many Soldiers.
Five gold pieces and a pound of silver!
Other Soldiers.
And that they deny us!
Others Again.
Who dares deny Caesar anything?
Maurus.
Is it thus they treat Caesar, the soldiers’ father?
Laipso.
Caesar, who has been rather our friend than our master? Is it not true?
Many Voices.
Yes, yes, it is!
186Varro.
Should not Caesar, the victorious general, be suffered to choose his captains as he pleases?
Maurus.
Should he not have free control over the spoils that fall to his share?
Loud Shouts.
Yes, yes, yes!
Julian.
Alas, what would it profit you? What need you care for worldly goods, you, who are to be led forth to the most distant lands, to meet a doubtful fate——?
Soldiers.
We will not go!
Julian.
Look not at me; I am ashamed; I can scarce help weeping when I think that, within a few months, you will be a prey to pestilence, famine, and the weapons of a bloodthirsty foe.
Many Soldiers.
[Pressing round him.] Caesar! Kind Caesar!
Julian.
And your defenceless wives and children, whom you must leave behind in your scattered homes! Who shall protect them in their pitiable plight, soon to be widowed and fatherless, and exposed to the vengeful onslaughts of the Alemanni?
The Women.
[Weeping.] Caesar, Caesar, protect us!
187Julian.
[Weeping likewise.] What is Caesar? What can the fallen Caesar do?
Laipso.
Write to the Emperor, and let him know——
Julian.
Ah, what is the Emperor? The Emperor is sick in mind and body; he is broken down by his care for the empire’s weal. Is it not so, Decentius?
Decentius.
Yes, doubtless; but——
Julian.
How it cut me to the heart when I heard——
[Pressing the hands of those around him.
Pray for his soul, you who worship the good Christ! Offer sacrifices for his recovery, you who have remained faithful to the gods of your fathers!——Know you that the Emperor has held a triumphal entry into Rome?
Maurus.
The Emperor!
Varro.
What? As he returned, beaten, from the Danube?
Julian.
As he returned from the Danube, he held a triumph for our victories——
Decentius.
[Threateningly.] Noble Caesar, reflect——!
188Julian.
Yes, the Tribune says well; reflect how our Emperor’s mind must be clouded, when he can do such things! Oh, my sorely afflicted kinsman! When he rode into Rome through the mighty arch of Constantine, he fancied himself so tall that he bent his back and bowed his head down to his saddle-bow.
Maurus.
Like a cock in a doorway.
[Laughter among the soldiers.
Some Voices.
Is that an Emperor?
Varro.
Shall we obey him?
Laipso.
Away with him!
Maurus.
Caesar, do you taketake the helm!
Decentius.
Rebellion——!
Many Voices.
Seize the throne; seize the throne, Caesar!
Julian.
Madmen! Is this language for Romans? Would you imitate the barbarous Alemanni? What was it Knodomar cried at Argentoratum? Answer me, good Maurus,—what did he cry out?
189Maurus.
He cried, “Long live the Emperor Julian!”
Julian.
Ah, hush, hush! What are you saying?
Maurus.
Long live the Emperor Julian!
Those Behind.
What is afoot?
Varro.
They are proclaiming Julian Emperor!
Loud Cries.
Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor Julian!
[The cry spreads in wider and wider circles without; all talk together; Julian cannot make himself heard for some time.
Julian.
Oh, I entreat you——! Soldiers, friends, brothers in arms,—see, I stretch out my trembling arms to you——! Be not alarmed, my Decentius!—Oh that I should live to see this! I do not blame you, my faithful friends; it is despair that has driven you to this. You will have it? Good; I submit to the will of the army.—Sintula, call the generals together.—You, Tribune, can bear witness to Constantius that ’twas only on compulsion that I—— [He turns to Varro.] Go, captain, and make known throughout the camp this unlooked-for turn of events. I will write without delay to Rome——
190Sallust.
My lord, the soldiers clamour to see you.
Maurus.
A circlet of gold on your head, Emperor!
Julian.
I have never possessed such a gaud.
Maurus.
This will serve.
[He takes off his gold chain, and winds it several times round Caesar’s brow.
Shouts outside.
The Emperor, the Emperor! We will see the Emperor!
Soldiers.
On the shield with him! Up, up!
[The bystanders raise Julian aloft on a shield, and show him to the multitude, amid long-continued acclamations.
Julian.
The will of the army be done! I bow before the inevitable, and renew all my promises——
Legionaries.
Five gold pieces and a pound of silver!
Batavians.
Not over the Alps!
191Julian.
We will occupy Vienna. ’Tis the strongest city in Gaul, and well supplied with provisions of every sort. There I intend to wait until we see whether my afflicted kinsman sanctions what we have here determined, for the empire’s weal——
Sallust.
That he will never do, my lord!
Julian.
[With upstretched hands.] Divine wisdom enlighten his darkened soul, and guide him for the best! Be thou with me, Fortune, who hast never yet deserted me!
Myrrha and the Women.
[Lamenting outside on the right.] Dead, dead, dead!
192
ACT FIFTH.
At Vienna [in Gaul]. A vaulted space in the catacombs. To the left a winding passage running upwards. In the background, a flight of steps is hewn in the rock, leading up to a closed door. In front, to the right, a number of steps lead down to the lower passages. The space is feebly lighted by a hanging-lamp.
Julian Caesar, unshaven, and in dirty clothes, stands bending over the opening to the right. A subdued sound of psalm-singing comes through the door from the church beyond it, built on to the catacomb.
Julian.
[Speaking downwards.] Still no sign?
A Voice.
[Far below.] None.
Julian.
Neither yes nor no? Neither for nor against?
The Voice.
Both.
Julian.
That is the same as nothing.
193The Voice.
Wait, wait.
Julian.
I have waited five days; you asked for only three. I tell you——I have no mind to—— [He listens towards the entrance, and calls down.] Do not speak!
Sallust.
[Entering by the passage on the left.] My lord, my lord!
Julian.
Is it you, Sallust? What would you down here?
Sallust.
This thick darkness——; ah! now I see you.
Julian.
What do you want?
Sallust.
To serve you, if I can,—to lead you out to the living again.
Julian.
What news from the world above?
Sallust.
The soldiers are restless; there are signs on all hands that their patience will soon be exhausted.
Julian.
Is the sun shining up there?
Sallust.
Yes, my lord.
194Julian.
The vault of heaven is like a sea of glittering light. Perhaps it is high noon. It is warm; the air quivers along the walls of the houses; the river, half-shrunken in its bed, ripples over the white flints.—Beautiful life! Beautiful earth!
Sallust.
Oh come, my lord, come! This stay in the catacombs is construed to your hurt.
Julian.
How is it construed?
Sallust.
Dare I tell you?
Julian.
You dare, and you must. How is it construed?
Sallust.
Many believe that it is remorse rather than sorrow that has driven you underground in this strange fashion.
Julian.
They think I killed her?
Sallust.
The mystery of the case may excuse them, if——
Julian.
No one killed her, Sallust! She was too pure for this sinful world; therefore an angel from heaven descended every night into her secret chamber, and called upon her. You doubt it? Know you 195not that this is how the priests in Lutetia accounted for her death? And the priests ought to know. Has not the transport of her body hither been like a triumphal progress through the land? Did not all the women of Vienna stream forth beyond the gates to meet her coffin, hailing her with green boughs in their hands, spreading draperies on the road, and singing songs of praise to the bride of heaven, who was being brought home to the bridegroom’s house?—Why do you laugh?
Sallust.
I, my lord?
Julian.
Ever since, I have heard bridal songs night and day. Listen, listen; they are wafting her up to glory. Ay, she was indeed a true Christian woman. She observed the commandment strictly;—she gave to Caesar what was Caesar’s, and to the other she gave——; but ’twas not of that you came to speak; you are not initiated in the secrets of the faith, Sallust!—What news, I ask?
Sallust.
The weightiest news is that on learning of the events at Lutetia, the Emperor fled hastily to Antioch.
Julian.
That news I know. No doubt Constantius already saw us in imagination before the gates of Rome.
Sallust.
The friends who boldly cast in their lot with you in this dangerous business, saw in imagination the same thing.
196Julian.
The time is not auspicious, Sallust! Know you not that in the martial games, before we left Lutetia, my shield broke in pieces, so that only the handle remained in my grasp? And know you not that, when I was mounting my horse, the groom stumbled as I swung myself up from his folded hands?
Sallust.
Yet you gained the saddle, my lord!
Julian.
But the man fell.
Sallust.
Better men will fall if Caesar loiters.
Julian.
The Emperor is at death’s door.
Sallust.
The Emperor still lives. The letters you wrote him as to your election——
Julian.
My enforced election. They constrained me, I had no choice.
Sallust.
The Emperor does not hold that explanation valid. He designs, as soon as he has mustered an army in the eastern provinces, to march into Gaul.
Julian.
How know you that——?
197Sallust.
By an accident, my lord! Believe me, I entreat you——!
Julian.
Good, good; when that happens, I will go to meet Constantius—not sword in hand——
Sallust.
Not? How, then, do you think to meet him?
Julian.
I will render to the Emperor what is the Emperor’s.
Sallust.
Mean you that you will abdicate?
Julian.
The Emperor is at death’s door.
Sallust.
Oh that vain hope! [He casts himself on his knees.] Then take my life, my lord!
Julian.
What now?
Sallust.
Caesar, take my life; I would rather die by your will than by the Emperor’s.
Julian.
Rise, friend!
Sallust.
No, let me lie at my Caesar’s feet, and confess all. Oh, beloved master,—to have to tell you this!—When 198I sought you out in the camp on the Rhine,—when I recalled to you the old friendship of our Athenian days,—when I begged to share with you the dangers of war,—then, oh Caesar, I came as a secret spy, in the Emperor’s pay——
Julian.
You——!
Sallust.
My mind had for some time been inflamed against you. You remember that little variance in Milan—yet no little one for me, who had hoped that Caesar would help to restore my waning fortunes. Of all this they took advantage in Rome; they regarded me as the very man to spy out your doings.
Julian.
And you could sell yourself so basely? To so black a treachery!
Sallust.
I was ruined, my lord; and I thought Caesar had forsaken me. Yes, my Caesar, I betrayed you——, during the first few months; but not afterwards. Your friendliness, your magnanimity, all the favour you showed me——; I became, what I had professed to be, your faithful adherent; and in my secret letters to Rome I put my employers on false scents.
Julian.
Those letters were from you?—Oh, Sallust!
Sallust.
They contained nothing to injure you, my lord! What others may have written, I know not; I 199only know that I often enough groaned in anguish under my enforced and hated silence. I ventured as far as I by any means dared. That letter written to an unnamed man in your camp, which contained an account of the Emperor’s triumphal entry in Rome, and which you found one morning on the march to Lutetia pushed under your tent-flap——; you did find it, my lord?
Julian.
Yes, yes——?
Sallust.
That was directed to me, and chance favoured me in bringing it into your hands. I dared not speak. I longed to, but I could not; I put off from day to day the confession of my shame. Oh, punish me, my lord; see, here I lie!
Julian.
Stand up; you are dearer to me thus,—conquered without my will and against your own. Stand up, friend of my soul; no one shall touch a hair of your head.
Sallust.
Rather take the life which you will not long have power to shield. You say the Emperor is at death’s door. [He rises.] My Caesar, what I have sworn to conceal, I now reveal to you. There is no hope for you in the Emperor’s decay. The Emperor is taking a new wife.
Julian.
Ah, what madness! How can you think——?
200Sallust.
The Emperor is taking a new wife, my lord! [He hands him some papers.] Read, read, noble Caesar; these letters will leave you no room for doubt.
Julian.
[Seizing the papers, and reading.] Yes, by the light and might of Helios——!
Sallust.
Oh that I had dared to speak sooner!
Julian.
[Still reading.] He take a woman to wife! Constantius,—that dwindling shadow of a man——! Faustina,—what is this?—young, scarcely nineteen,—a daughter of——ah! a daughter of that insolent tribe. Therefore, of course, a zealous Christian woman. [He folds the papers together.] You are right, Sallust; his decay gives no room for hope. What though he be decrepit, dying,—what of that? Is not Faustina pious. An annunciating angel will appear; or even——; ha-ha!—in short,—by some means or other,—a young Caesar will be forthcoming, and thus——
Sallust.
Delay means ruin.
Julian.
This move has long been planned in all secrecy, Sallust! Ah, now all the riddles are solved. Helena——, ’twas not, as I conceived, her heedless tongue that destroyed her——
201Sallust.
No, my lord!
Julian.
——they thought,—they believed that——! oh inscrutable, even-handed retribution! that was why she had to die.
Sallust.
Yes, that was the reason, I was the man they first pitched upon in Rome. Oh, my lord, you cannot doubt that I refused to do it? I pleaded the impossibility of finding an occasion; they assured me that the abominable design was abandoned, and then——!
Julian.
They will not stop at—at the double corpse in the sarcophagus up yonder. Constantius takes another wife. That is why I was to be disarmed in Lutetia.
Sallust.
One thing alone can save you, my Caesar: you must act before the Emperor has recruited his forces.
Julian.
What if, of my own free will, I withdrew into solitude, devoting myself to that wisdom which I have here been forced to neglect? Would the new men in power leave me undisturbed? Would not the very fact of my existence be like a sword hanging over their heads?
Sallust.
The kinsmen of the Empress that is to be are the men who surrounded Gallus Caesar in his last hours.
202Julian.
The tribune Scudilo. Trust me, friend,—I have not forgotten that. And am I to yield and fall before this bloodthirsty Emperor! Am I to spare him who for long years has stumbled about among the corpses of my nearest kin!
Sallust.
If you spare him, in less than three months he will be stumbling among the corpses of your adherents.
Julian.
Yes, yes; there you are right. It is almost my imperative duty to stand up against him. If I do, ’twill not be for my own sake. Do not the weal and woe of thousands hang in the balance? Are not thousands of lives at stake? Or could I have averted this extremity? You are more to blame than I, Sallust! Why did you not speak before?
Sallust.
In Rome they made me swear a solemn oath of secrecy.
Julian.
An oath? Indeed! By the gods of your forefathers?
Sallust.
Yes, my lord—by Zeus and by Apollo.
Julian.
And yet you break your oath?
Sallust.
I wish to live.
203Julian.
But the gods?
Sallust.
The gods—they are far away.
Julian.
Yes, your gods are far away; they hamper no one; they are a burden to no one; they leave a man elbow-room for action. Oh, that Greek happiness, that sense of freedom——!
You said that the Emperor, vengeful as he is, will pour out the blood of my friends. Yes, who can doubt that? Was Knodomar spared? Did not that harmless captive pay with his life for an error of language? For—I know it, Sallust—they killed him; that tale about the barbarian’s home-sickness was a lie. Then what may not we expect? In what a hateful light must not Decentius have represented matters in Rome?
Sallust.
That you may best understand from the hasty flight of the court to Antioch.
Julian.
And am I not my army’s father, Sallust?
Sallust.
The soldiers’ father; their wives’ and children’s buckler and defence.
Julian.
And what will be the fate of the empire should I waver now? A decrepit Emperor, and after him a helpless child, upon the throne; faction and 204revolt; every man’s hand against his neighbour, in the struggle for power.—Not many nights ago I saw a vision. A figure appeared before me, with a halo round its head; it looked wrathfully upon me, and said: “Choose!” With that it vanished away, like morning mist. Hitherto I had interpreted it as referring to something far different; but now that I know of the Emperor’s approaching marriage——
Yes, indeed, it is time to choose, ere misfortune overwhelms the empire. I am not thinking of my own interest; but dare I shirk the choice, Sallust? Is it not my duty to the Emperor to defend my life? Have I a right to stand with folded arms and await the murderers whom he, in his mad panic, is bribing to hew me down? Have I a right to give this unhappy Constantius an opportunity of heaping fresh blood-guiltiness upon his sinful head? Were it not better for him—as the Scriptures say—that he should suffer wrong rather than do wrong? If, therefore, this that I do to my kinsman can be called a wrong, I hold that the wrong is wiped out by the fact that it hinders my kinsman from inflicting a wrong on me. I think that both Plato and Marcus Aurelius, that crowned bridegroom of wisdom, would support me in that. At any rate, it would be no unworthy problem for the philosophers, my dear Sallust!—Oh that I had Libanius here!
Sallust.
My lord, you are yourself so far advanced in philosophy, that——
Julian.
True, true; yet I would fain hear the views 205of certain others. Not that I am vacillating. Do not think that! Nor do I see any reason to doubt a favourable issue. For those omens should by no means discourage us. The fact that I retained the handle, when my shield broke during the games, may with ample reason, I think, be taken to mean that I shall succeed in holding what my hand has grasped. And if, in vaulting upon my horse, I overthrew the man who helped me to mount, may not this portend a sudden fall to Constantius, to whom I owe my rise? Be this as it may, my Sallust, I look forward to composing a treatise which shall most clearly justify——
Sallust.
Very good, my gracious lord; but the soldiers are impatient; they would fain see you, and learn their fate from your own lips.
Julian.
Go, go and pacify them;—tell them that Caesar will presently show himself.
Sallust.
My lord, ’tis not Caesar, it is the Emperor himself they want to see.
Julian.
The Emperor is coming.
Sallust.
Then he comes—though empty-handed—yet with the lives of thousands in his hands!
206Julian.
A barter, Sallust; the lives of thousands against the death of thousands.
Sallust.
Have your enemies the right to live?
Julian.
Happy you, whose gods are afar off. Oh, to possess this hardihood of will——!
A Voice.
[Calling from deep in the galleries below.] Julian, Julian!
Sallust.
Ah! What is that?
Julian.
Leave me, dear friend; go quickly!
The Voice.
Silence the psalm-singing, Julian!
Sallust.
It calls again. Oh, then it is true!
Julian.
What is true?
Sallust.
That you abide down here with a mysterious stranger, a soothsayer or a magician, who came to you by night.
Julian.
Ha-ha; do they say that? Go, go!
207Sallust.
I conjure you, my lord,—have done with these noxious dreams. Come with me; come up to the light of day!
The Voice.
[Nearer, underneath.] All my labour is vain.
Julian.
[Speaking down the passage to the right.] No sign, my brother?
The Voice.
Desolation and emptiness.
Julian.
Oh, Maximus!
Sallust.
Maximus!
Julian.
Go, I tell you! If I leave this house of corruption, it will be as Emperor.
Sallust.
I implore you——; what seek you here in the darkness?
Julian.
Light. Go, go!
Sallust.
If Caesar loiters, I fear he will find the way barred against him.
[He goes by the passage on the left. A little while afterwards, Maximus the Mystic ascends the steps; he wears a white sacrificial fillet round his brow; in his hand is a long, bloody knife.
208Julian.
Speak, my Maximus!
Maximus.
All my labour is vain, I tell you. Why could you not silence the psalm-singing? It strangled all the omens; they would have spoken, but could utter nothing.
Julian.
Silence, darkness;—and I can wait no longer! What do you counsel me to do?
Maximus.
Go forward blindly, Emperor Julian. The light will seek you out.
Julian.
Yes, yes, yes; that I, too, believe. I need not, after all, have sent for you all this long way. Know you what I have just heard——?
Maximus.
I will not know what you have heard. Take your fate into your own hands.
Julian.
[Pacing restlessly up and down.] After all, what is he, this Constantius—this Fury-haunted sinner, this mouldering ruin of what was once a man?
Maximus.
Be that his epitaph, Emperor Julian!
Julian.
In his whole treatment of me, has he not been like a rudderless wreck,—now drifting to the left 209on the current of suspicion, now hurled to the right by the storm-gust of remorse? Did he not stagger, terror-stricken, up to the imperial throne, his purple mantle dripping with my father’s blood? perhaps with my mother’s too?—Had not all my kin to perish that he might sit secure? No, not all; Gallus was spared, and I;—a couple of lives must be left wherewith to buy himself a little pardon. Then he drifted into the current of suspicion again. Remorse wrung from him the title of Caesar for Gallus; then suspicion wrung from him Caesar’s death-warrant. And I? Do I owe him thanks for the life he has hitherto vouchsafed me? One after the other; first Gallus, and then——; every night I have sweated with terror lest the next day should be my last.
Maximus.
Were Constantius and death your worst terrors? Think.Think.
Julian.
No, you are right. The priests——! My whole youth has been one long dread of the Emperor and of Christ. Oh, he is terrible, that mysterious—that merciless god-man! At every turn, wheresoever I wished to go, he met me, stark and stern, with his unconditional, inexorable commands.
Maximus.
And those commands—were they within you?
Julian.
Always without. Always “Thou shalt.” If my soul gathered itself up in one gnawing and consuming hate towards the murderer of my kin, 210what said the commandment: “Love thine enemy!” If my mind, athirst for beauty, longed for scenes and rites from the bygone world of Greece, Christianity swooped down on me with its “Seek the one thing needful!” If I felt the sweet lusts of the flesh towards this or that, the Prince of Renunciation terrified me with his: “Kill the body that the soul may live!”—All that is human has become unlawful since the day when the seer of Galilee became ruler of the world. Through him, life has become death. Love and hatred, both are sins. Has he, then, transformed man’s flesh and blood? Has not earth-bound man remained what he ever was? Our inmost, healthy soul rebels against it all;—and yet we are to will in the very teeth of our own will! Thou shalt, shalt, shalt!
Maximus.
And you have advanced no further than that! Shame on you!
Julian.
I?
Maximus.
Yes, you, the man of Athens and of Ephesus.
Julian.
Ah, those times, Maximus! ’Twas easy to choose then. What were we really working at? A philosophic system; neither more nor less.
Maximus.
Is it not written somewhere in your Scriptures! “Either“Either with us or against us”?
211Julian.
Did not Libanius remain the man he was, whether he took the affirmative in a disputation, or the negative? This lies deeper. Here it is action that must be faced. “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.” In Athens I once made a game of that;—but it is no game. You cannot grasp it, you, who have never been under the power of the god-man. It is more than a doctrine he has spread over the world; it is an enchantment, that binds the soul in chains. He who has once been under it,—I believe he can never quite shake it off.
Maximus.
Because you do not wholly will.
Julian.
How can I will the impossible?
Maximus.
Is it worth while to will what is possible?
Julian.
Word-froth from the lecture-halls! You can no longer cram my mind with that. And yet——oh no, no, Maximus! But you cannot understand how it is with us. We are like vines transplanted into a new, strange soil; transplant us back again, and we die; yet in the new soil we cannot thrive.
Maximus.
We? Whom do you call we?
Julian.
All who are under the terror of the revelation.
212Maximus.
A terror of shadows!
Julian.
Be that as it may. But do you not see that this paralysing terror has curdled and coiled itself up into a wall around the Emperor? Ah, I see very well why the great Constantine promoted such a will-binding doctrine to power and authority in the empire. No bodyguard with spears and shields could form such a bulwark round the throne as this benumbing creed, for ever pointing beyond our earthly life. Have you looked closely at these Christians? Hollow-eyed, pale-cheeked, flat-breasted, all; they are like the linen-weavers of Byssus; they brood their lives away unspurred by ambition; the sun shines for them, and they do not see it; the earth offers them its fulness, and they desire it not;—all their desire is to renounce and suffer, that they may come to die.
Maximus.
Then use them as they are; but you yourself must stand without. Emperor or Galilean;—that is the alternative. Be a thrall under the terror, or monarch in the land of sunshine and gladness! You cannot will contradictions; and yet that is what you would fain do. You try to unite what cannot be united,—to reconcile two irreconcilables; therefore it is that you lie here rotting in the darkness.
Julian.
Show me light if you can!
213Maximus.
Are you that Achilles, whom your mother dreamed that she should give to the world? A tender heel alone makes no man an Achilles. Arise, my lord! Confident of victory, like a knight on his fiery steed, you must trample on the Galilean, if you would reach the imperial throne——
Julian.
Maximus!
Maximus.
My beloved Julian, look at the world around you! Those death-desiring Christians you speak of are fewest of the few. And how is it with all the others? Are not their minds falling away from the Master, one by one? Answer me,—what has become of this strange gospel of love? Does not sect rage against sect? And the bishops, those gold-bedecked magnates, who call themselves the chief shepherds of the church! Do they yield even to the great men of the court in greed and ambition and sycophancy——?
Julian.
They are not all like that; think of the great Athanasius of Alexandria——
Maximus.
Athanasius stood alone. And where is Athanasius now? Did they not drive him out, because he would not sell himself to serve the Emperor’s will? Was he not forced to take refuge in the Libyan desert, where he was devoured by lions? And can you name me one other like Athanasius? 214Think of Maris, the bishop of Chalcedon, who has now changed sides three times in the Arian controversy. Think of old Bishop Marcus, of Arethusa; him you know from your boyhood. Has he not lately, in the teeth of both law and justice, taken all municipal property from the citizens, and transferred it to the church? And remember the feeble, vacillating Bishop of Nazianzus, who is the laughing-stock of his own community, because he answers yes and no in the same cause, in the hope to please both parties.