SCENE IV. (continued 2)

Cyrillus.

[With upraised hands.] How blessed am I, to suffer for the glory of God!

[The soldiers seize and drag him out.

The Women.

[With tears and sobs.] Woe to us! Woe, woe, to the apostate!

Julian.

Disperse these maniacs! Let them be driven 352out of the city as rebels. I will no longer endure this defiance and scandal.

[The guard drives the lamenting crowd into the side streets. Only the Emperor and his suite remain behind. A man who has hitherto been hidden is now seen lying at the church door; he is in torn garments, and has ashes strewn on his head.

A Soldier.

[Stirring him with a lance-shaft.] Up, up; be off!

The Man.

[Looking up.] Tread under foot this salt without savour, rejected of the Lord!

Julian.

Oh everlasting gods!—Hekebolius——!

The Courtiers.

Ah, so it is,—Hekebolius!

Hekebolius.

That is no longer my name! I am nameless. I have denied the baptism that gave me my name!

Julian.

Arise, friend!friend! Your mind is distempered——

Hekebolius.

Judas’s brother is pestiferous. Away from me——

Julian.

Oh feeble-hearted man——

353Hekebolius.

Avaunt, tempter! Take back your thirty pieces of silver! Is it not written, “Thou shalt forsake wife and children for the Lord’s sake”? And I——? For the sake of wife and children have I betrayed the Lord my God! Woe, woe, woe!

[He casts himself down again on his face.

Julian.

Such flames of madness do these writings kindle over the earth!

And do I not well to burn them?

Wait! Ere a year has passed the Temple of the Jews shall stand again on Zion hill,—the splendour of its golden dome shining over the world, and testifying: Liar, liar, liar!

[He goes hastily away, followed by the philosophers.

SCENE THIRD.

A road outside the city. To the left, by the wayside, stands a statue of Cybele amid the stumps of hewn-down trees. At a little distance to the left is a fountain, with a stone basin. It is towards sunset.

On a step at the foot of the goddess’s statue sits an old priest, with a covered basket in his lap. A number of men and women carry water from the fountain. Passers-by are seen on the road. From the left enters the dyer Phocion, meanly clad, with a great bundle on his head. He meets Eunapius the barber, who comes from the city.

354Phocion.

Aha!—my friend Eunapius in full court dress!

Eunapius.

Shame on you for mocking a poor man.

Phocion.

Call you that mockery? I thought it was the highest distinction.

Eunapius.

You may say so indeed. ’Tis now the height of distinction to go in rags, especially if they have lain long enough in the gutter.

Phocion.

How will all this end, think you?

Eunapius.

What should I care? I know how it has ended with me, and that is enough.

Phocion.

Are you no longer in the Emperor’s service?

Eunapius.

What should the Emperor Julian want with a barber? Think you he has his hair cut, or his beard trimmed? He does not even comb them. But how goes it with you? You do not look much better off.

Phocion.

Alas, Eunapius, purple-dyeing has had its day.

355Eunapius.

Right, right; now we dye only the backs of the Christians. But what is that you are toiling with?

Phocion.

A bundle of willow bark. I am to dye fools’ cloaks for the philosophers.

[A detachment of soldiers enters from the right; they range themselves beside the statue of Cybele.

Phocion.

[To one of the men beside the stone basin.] What does this mean?

The Man.

The statue is to be fed once more.

Phocion.

Will the Emperor sacrifice here this evening?

Another Man.

Does he not sacrifice both morning and evening—sometimes here, sometimes there?

A Woman.

Tis hard on us poor folk that the new Emperor is so much in love with the gods.

Another Woman.

Nay, Dione, say not so. Ought we not all to love the gods?

The First Woman.

Maybe, maybe; but ’tis hard on us none the less——

356One of the Men.

[Points to the right.] Look—there he comes.

The Emperor Julian advances in priestly attire, with a sacrificial knife. Many philosophers, priests, and servants surround him, along with his guard. After them comes a crowd of people, some mocking, some indignant.

One of the Newcomers.

There stands the goddess. Now you shall see sport.

An Older Man.

Do you call that sport? How many hungry mouths could be fed with what is wasted here?

Julian.

[Approaching the statue.] Oh, this sight! It fills my heart with rapture and my eyes with tears of sorrow.

Yes, I must indeed weep, when I remember that this awe-inspiring goddess’s statue, overthrown by impious and audacious hands, has lain so long as if in a sleep of oblivion—and that, moreover, in a place I loathe to mention.

[Suppressed laughter among the listeners. Julian turns angrily.

But I feel no less rapture when I remember that to me it was vouchsafed to rescue the Divine Mother from so unworthy a situation.

May I not well be enraptured by this thought?—Men say of me, that I have won a few victories over the barbarians, and praise me for them. For my part, I set more value on what I am doing 357for the gods; for to them we owe all our strength and all our care.

[To those by the stone basin.

It pleases me, however, to find that there are some in this stiff-necked city who are not deaf to my exhortations, but have come forth with seemly piety—and, I doubt not, have brought with them suitable offerings.

[He goes up to the Old Priest.

What do I see? One solitary old man! Where are your brethren of the temple?

The Old Priest.

Sire, they are all dead but I.

Julian.

All dead! The road laid irreverently close to the sanctuary. The venerable grove hewn down——

Old man—where are the sacrificial offerings?

The Old Priest.

[Pointing to the basket.] Here, sire!

Julian.

Yes, yes; but the rest?

The Old Priest.

This is all.

[He opens the basket.

Julian.

A goose! And this goose is all?

The Old Priest.

Yes, sire!

358Julian.

And what pious man have we to thank for so generous an offering?

The Old Priest.

I brought it with me myself. Oh, sire, be not wroth; this one was all I had.

[Laughter and mutterings among the bystanders.

Suppressed Voices.

’Tis enough. A goose is more than enough.

Julian.

Oh Antioch—you put my patience to a hard test!

A Man in the Crowd.

Bread first, offerings afterwards!

Phocion.

[Nudging him in the side.] Well said; well said!

Another Man.

Give the citizens food; the gods may do as best they can.

A third Man.

We were better off under Chi and Kappa!

Julian.

Oh you shameless brawlers, with your Chi and Kappa! Think you I do not know whom you mean by Chi and Kappa? Ho-ho, I know very well. ’Tis a by-word among you. You mean Christ and Constantius. But their dominion is past, and I shall soon find means of subduing the frowardness 359and ingratitude you display both towards the gods and towards me. You are offended because I allot the gods their due offerings. You mock at my modest attire and my untrimmed beard. This beard is a very thorn in your eyes! You call it, irreverently, a goat’s beard. But I tell you, oh fools, it is a wise man’s beard. I am not ashamed to let you know that this beard harbours vermin, as willow copses harbour game—and yet this despised beard is more honourable to me than your smooth-shaven chins to you!

Eunapius.

[Half aloud.] What foolishness; most unreasonable!

Julian.

But think you I will leave your mockeries unanswered? No, no, you will find yourselves mistaken. Only wait; you shall hear from me sooner than you think. I am at this moment preparing a treatise, entitled “The Beard-Hater.” And would you know against whom it is directed? It is directed against you, citizens of Antioch—against you, whom I describe in it as “those ignorant hounds.” You will find in it my reasons for many things that now seem strange to you in my behaviour.

Fromentinus.

[Entering from the right.] Great Emperor, I bring you good news. Cyrillus has already given way——

Julian.

Ah, I thought so.

360Fromentinus.

Typhon did his work bravely. The prisoner was stripped, tied by the wrists, and slung to the rafters, so that the tips of his toes barely touched the floor; then Typhon scourged him from behind with a lash of ox sinews that circled his body round to the breast.

Julian.

Oh how wicked to force us to use such means!

Fromentinus.

Lest he should die under our hands, we had at last to release the obstinate wretch. He remained for a time quite still, and seemed to reflect; then suddenly he demanded to be brought before the Emperor.

Julian.

This pleases me. And you are having him brought hither?

Fromentinus.

Yes, sire—here they come with him.

A detachment of soldiers enters, conducting Cyrillus.

Julian.

Ah, my good Cyrillus,—you are not quite so overweening as you were, I see.

Cyrillus.

Have you read in the entrails of some beast or bird what I have to say to you?

Julian.

Methinks there needs no divination to foresee that you have come to your senses, that you 361renounce your delusions concerning the Galilean’s power, and that you acknowledge both the Emperor and our gods to be greater than he.

Cyrillus.

Imagine no such thing. Your gods are powerless; and if you cling to these graven images, that can neither hear nor see, you yourself will soon be as powerless as they.

Julian.

Cyrillus—is this what you have to say?

Cyrillus.

No; I come to thank you. Hitherto I have dreaded you and your tortures. But in the hour of agony I won the victory of the spirit over all that is corruptible. Yes, Emperor, while your hirelings thought I was hanging in torment from the prison roof,—I lay, happy as a child, in my Saviour’s arms; and when your executioners seemed to be flaying my body with stripes, the Lord passed his healing hand over the wounds, took away the crown of thorns, and placed on my brow the crown of life.

Therefore I thank you; no mortal has ever done me so great a service as you.

And lest you should think I fear you for the future, see——

[He throws back his cloak, tears open his wounds and casts pieces of flesh at the Emperor’s feet.

—see—see—gorge yourself with the blood you thirst after! But as for me, know that I thirst after Jesus Christ alone.

[Shrieks of horror are heard among the crowd.

362Many Voices.

This will bring disaster on us all!

Julian.

[Who has recoiled.] Hold the madman, lest he lay hands on us!

[The soldiers surround Cyrillus and drag him to the water basin; at the same moment the voices of singing women are heard to the right.

Julian.

Look there, Fromentinus—what strange company is that——?

Fromentinus.

My gracious Emperor, ’tis the psalm-singers——

Julian.

Ah, that band of raving women——

Fromentinus.

The governor Alexander has taken from them some writings which they hold sacred. They are going out of the city to weep at the graves of the Christians.

Julian.

[With clenched hands.] Defiance; defiance—from men and women alike!

[Old Publia, and many other women, come along the road.

Publia.

[Sings.

Their gods are of marble, and silver and gold.

They shall crumble to mould.

363Chorus of Women.

To mould; to mould!

Publia.

They murder our brothers; our children they smite.

Soar up, doves of song, and pray God to requite!

Chorus of Women.

Pray God to requite!

Publia.

[Catching sight of Julian.] There he stands! Woe to the miscreant who has burnt the word of the Lord! Think you you can burn the word of the Lord with fire? I will tell you where it burns.

[She wrests a knife from one of the sacrificing priests, cuts open her breast and probes into the wound.

Here the word burns. You may burn our books; but the word shall burn in the hearts of men until the uttermost end of time!

[She casts the knife from her.

The Women.

[Sing with growing ecstasy.

Let writings be burnt, and let bodies be slain;

The word shall remain—

The word shall remain!

[They take Publia into their midst and go out towards the country.

The People by the Fountain.

Woe to us; the Galileans’ God is the strongest!

364Other Voices.

What avail all our gods against this one?

Others again.

No offering! No worship! ’Twill incense the terrible one against us.

Julian.

Oh fools! You fear to incense a man long dead,—a false prophet—you shall have proof of it. He is a liar, I say! Wait but a little longer. Every day, every hour, may bring tidings from Jerusalem——

Jovian, much travel-stained, enters hastily, with a few

followers, from the right.

Jovian.

Most gracious Emperor, pardon your servant for seeking you here.

Julian.

[With a cry of joy.] Jovian! Oh welcome news-bearer!

Jovian.

I come direct from Judea. I learned at the palace that you were here——

Julian.

Oh, ever-praiseworthy gods,—yon setting sun shall not go down upon the lie. How far have you progressed? Speak, my Jovian!

Jovian.

[With a glance at the crowd.] Sire, shall I tell all?

365Julian.

All, all—from first to last!

Jovian.

I arrived at Jerusalem with the architects and soldiers, and the two thousand workmen. We went to work at once to clear the ground. Mighty remnants of the walls remained. They fell before our pickaxes and crowbars so easily that it seemed as though some unseen power were helping us to efface them——

Julian.

You see! What did I tell you!

Jovian.

In the meantime immense heaps of mortar were being brought together for the new building. Then, without any warning, there arose a whirlwind, which spread the lime like a cloud over the whole region.

Julian.

Go on; go on!

Jovian.

The same night the earth shook repeatedly.

Voices in the Crowd.

Hear that! The earth shook.

Julian.

Go on, I say!

Jovian.

We were nothing daunted by this strange event. But when we had dug so deep into the ground as to open the subterranean vaults, and the stone-hewers went down to work by torchlight——

366Julian.

Jovian,—what then?

Jovian.

Sire, a terrible, a monstrous stream of fire burst out of the caverns. A thundering noise shook the whole city. The vaults burst asunder; hundreds of workmen were killed in them, and the few who escaped fled with lacerated limbs.

Whispering Voices.

The Galileans’ God!

Julian.

Can I believe all this? Did you see it?

Jovian.

With my own eyes. We began anew. Sire, in the presence of many thousands—awestruck, kneeling, exulting, praying—the same wonder was twice repeated.

Julian.

[Pale and trembling.] And then——? In one word,—what has the Emperor achieved in Jerusalem?

Jovian.

The Emperor has fulfilled the Galilean’s prophecy.

Julian.

Fulfilled——?

Jovian.

Through you is the saying accomplished: “Not one stone shall remain upon another.”

367Men and Women.

The Galilean has overcome the Emperor! The Galilean is greater than Julian!

Julian.

[To the priest of Cybele.] You may go home, old man! And take your goose with you. We will have no sacrifice this evening.

[He turns to the crowd.

I heard some say the Galilean had conquered. It may appear so; but I tell you it is a delusion. Oh senseless clods; oh contemptible dolts,—believe me, it will not be long before the tables are turned! I will——; I will——! Ah, only wait! I am already collecting material for a treatise against the Galilean. It is to be in seven chapters; and when his followers have read that,—and when “The Beard-Hater,” too——

Give me your arm, Fromentinus! This defiance has wearied me.

[To the guard, as he passes the fountain.

Set Cyrillus free!

[He returns with his retinue to the city.

The Crowd at the Fountain.

[Shouting after him with scornful laughter.] There goes the altar-butcher?—There goes the ragged bear!—There goes the ape with the long arms!

SCENE FOURTH

Moonlight. Among the ruins of the temple of Apollo.

The Emperor Julian and Maximus the Mystic, both in robes, appear among the overthrown columns.

368Maximus.

Whither, my brother?

Julian.

Where it is loneliest.

Maximus.

But here—in this desolation? Among these rubbish-heaps——?

Julian.

Is not the whole earth a rubbish-heap?

Maximus.

Yet you have shown that what has fallen can be restored.

Julian.

Mocker! In Athens I saw how a cobbler had made himself a little workshop in the temple of Theseus. In Rome, I hear, a corner of the Basilica Julia is used for a bullock-stable. Call you that restoration?

Maximus.

Why not? Does not everything happen little by little? What is a whole but the sum of all the parts?

Julian.

Foolish wisdom!

[He points to the overturned statue of Apollo.

See this noseless face. See this splintered elbow,—these shattered loins. Does the sum of all these deformities restore to us the divine perfection of bygone beauty?

369Maximus.

How know you that that bygone beauty was beautiful—in itself—apart from the spectator’s idea?

Julian.

Ah, Maximus, that is just the question. What exists in itself? After to-day I know of nothing.

[He kicks the head of Apollo.

Have you ever been mightier, in yourself?

Strange, Maximus, that there should dwell such strength in delusion. Look at those Galileans. And look at me in the old days, when I thought it possible to build up again the fallen world of beauty.

Maximus.

Friend—if delusion be a necessity to you, return to the Galileans. They will receive you with open arms.

Julian.

You know well that that is impossible. Emperor and Galilean! How reconcile that contradiction?

Yes, this Jesus Christ is the greatest rebel that ever lived. What was Brutus—what was Cassius, compared with him? They murdered only the man Julius Caesar; but he murders all that is called Caesar or Augustus. Is peace conceivable between the Galilean and the Emperor? Is there room for the two of them together upon the earth? For he lives on the earth, Maximus,—the Galilean lives, I say, however thoroughly both Jews and Romans imagined that they had killed him; he lives in the rebellious minds of men; he lives in their scorn and defiance of all visible authority.

370“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,—and to God the things that are God’s!” Never has mouth of man uttered a craftier saying than that. What lies behind it? What, and how much, belongs to the Emperor? That saying is nothing but a bludgeon wherewith to strike the crown from off the Emperor’s head.

Maximus.

Yet the great Constantine knew how to compound matters with the Galilean—and your predecessor too.

Julian.

Yes, could one only be as easily satisfied as they! But call you that ruling the empire of the world? Constantine widened the boundaries of his dominion, but did he not fix narrow boundaries to his spirit and his will? You rate that man too high when you call him “the great.” Of my predecessor I will not speak; he was more slave than Emperor, and I cannot be contented with the name alone.

No, no, a truce is not to be thought of in this contest. And yet—to have to give way! Oh, Maximus, after these defeats I cannot retain the crown—yet neither can I renounce it.

You, Maximus, who can interpret omens whose mystic meaning is hidden from all others—you who can read the volume of the eternal stars,—can you foretell the issue of this struggle?

Maximus.

Yes, my brother, I can foretell the issue.

371Julian.

Can you? Then tell me—! Who shall conquer? The Emperor or the Galilean?

Maximus.

Both the Emperor and the Galilean shall succumb.

Julian.

Succumb——? Both——?

Maximus.

Both. Whether in our times or in hundreds of years, I know not; but so it shall be when the right man comes.

Julian.

And who is the right man?

Maximus.

He who shall swallow up both Emperor and Galilean.

Julian.

You solve the riddle by a still darker riddle.

Maximus.

Hear me, brother and friend of truth! I say you shall both succumb—but not that you shall perish.

Does not the child succumb in the youth, and the youth in the man? Yet neither child nor youth perishes.

Oh, my best-loved pupil—have you forgotten all our discourse in Ephesus about the three empires?

372Julian.

Ah Maximus, years have passed since then. Speak!

Maximus.

You know I have never approved the course you have taken as Emperor. You have striven to make the youth a child again. The empire of the flesh is swallowed up in the empire of the spirit. But the empire of the spirit is not final, any more than the youth is. You have striven to hinder the growth of the youth,—to hinder him from becoming a man. Oh fool, who have drawn your sword against that which is to be—against the third empire, in which the twin-natured shall reign!

Julian.

And he——?

Maximus.

The Jews have a name for him. They call him Messiah, and they await him.

Julian.

[Slowly and thoughtfully.] Messiah?—Neither Emperor nor Redeemer?

Maximus.

Both in one, and one in both.

Julian.

Emperor-God—God-Emperor. Emperor in the kingdom of the spirit,—and God in that of the flesh.

Maximus.

That is the third empire, Julian!

373Julian.

Yes, Maximus, that is the third empire.

Maximus.

In that empire shall the present watchword of revolt be realised.

Julian.

“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,—and to God the things that are God’s.” Yes, yes, then the Emperor is in God, and God in the Emperor.—Ah, dreams, dreams,—who shall break the Galilean’s power?

Maximus.

Wherein lies the Galilean’s power?

Julian.

I have brooded over that question in vain.

Maximus.

Is it not somewhere written: “Thou shalt have none other gods but me”?

Julian.

Yes—yes—yes!

Maximus.

The Seer of Nazareth did not preach this god or that; he said: “God is I;—I am God.”

Julian.

Ay, this thing without me——! ’Tis that which makes the Emperor powerless.

The third empire? The Messiah? Not the Jews’ Messiah, but the Messiah of the two empires, the spirit and the world——?

374Maximus.

The God-Emperor.

Julian.

The Emperor-God.

Maximus.

Logos in Pan—Pan in Logos.

Julian.

Maximus,—how comes he into being?

Maximus.

He comes into being in the man who wills himself.

Julian.

My beloved teacher,—I must leave you

Maximus.

Whither are you going?

Julian.

To the city. The Persian king has made overtures of peace, which I too hastily accepted. My envoys are already on the way. They must be overtaken and recalled.

Maximus.

You will reopen the war against King Sapor?

Julian.

I will do what Cyrus dreamed of, and Alexander attempted——

Maximus.

Julian!

375Julian.

I will possess the world.—Good-night, my Maximus!

[He makes a gesture of farewell, and goes hastily away. Maximus looks thoughtfully after him.

The Chorus of the Psalm-Singers.

[Far away, beside the graves of the martyrs.

Ye gods of the nations, of silver and gold,

Ye shall crumble to mould!

376

ACT FOURTH

SCENE FIRST.

The eastern frontier of the empire. A wild mountain landscape. A deep valley separates the high foreground from the mountains behind.

The Emperor Julian, in military dress, stands on the edge of a rocky promontory, and looks into the depths. A little way from him, to the left, stand Nevita, the Persian prince Hormisdas, Jovian, and several other generals. To the right, beside a roughly-built stone altar, crouch the soothsayer, Numa, and two other Etruscan soothsayers, examining the entrails of the sacrifices for omens. Further forward sits Maximus the Mystic on a stone, surrounded by Priscus, Kytron, and other philosophers. Small detachments of light-armed men now and then pass over the height from left to right.

Julian.

[Pointing downwards.] See, see—the legions wind like a scaly serpent through the ravine.

Nevita.

Those just below us, in sheepskin doublets, are the Scythians.

Julian.

What piercing howls——!

377Nevita.

That is the Scythians’ customary song, sire!

Julian.

More howl than song.

Nevita.

Now come the Armenians. Arsaces himself is leading them.

Julian.

The Roman legions must already be out on the plains. All the neighbouring tribes are hastening to make their submission.

[He turns to the officers.

The twelve hundred ships, containing all our stores and munitions, lie assembled on the Euphrates. I am now fully assured that the fleet can cross over to the Tigris by the ancient canal. The whole army will pass the river by means of the ships. Then we will advance along by the eastern bank as rapidly as the current will suffer the ships to follow us.

Tell me, Hormisdas, what think you of this plan?

Hormisdas.

Invincible general, I know that under your victorious protection it will be vouchsafed me to tread once more the soil of my fatherland.

Julian.

What a relief to be rid of those narrow-breasted citizens! What terror was in their eyes when they pressed round my chariot as I left the city! “Come again quickly,” they cried, “and be more gracious to us than now.” I will never revisit Antioch. I 378will never again set eyes on that ungrateful city! When I have conquered I will return by way of Tarsus.

[He goes up to the soothsayers.

Numa,—what omens for our campaign do you find this morning?

Numa.

The omens warn you not to pass the frontier of your empire this year.

Julian.

H’m! How read you this omen, Maximus?

Maximus.

I read it thus: the omen counsels you to subdue all the regions you traverse; thus you will never pass the frontier of your empire.

Julian.

So is it. We must look closely into such supernatural signs; for there is wont to be a double meaning in them. It even seems at times as if mysterious powers took a delight in leading men astray, especially in great undertakings. Were there not some who held it an evil omen that the colonnade in Hierapolis fell in and buried half a hundred soldiers, just as we marched through the city? But I say that that is a presage of a twofold good. In the first place it foreshows the downfall of Persia, and in the second place the doom of the unhappy Galileans. For what soldiers were they who were killed? Why, Galilean convict-soldiers, who went most unwillingly to the war; and therefore fate decreed them that sudden and inglorious end.

379Jovian.

Most gracious Emperor, here comes a captain from the vanguard.

Ammian.

[Entering from the right.] Sire, you commanded me to inform you should anything strange befall during our advance.

Julian.

Well? Has anything happened this morning?

Ammian.

Yes, sire, two portents.

Julian.

Quick, Ammian,—speak on!

Ammian.

First, sire, it happened that when we had gone a little way beyond the village of Zaita, a lion of monstrous size burst from a thicket and rushed straight at our soldiers, who killed it with many arrows.

Julian.

Ah!

The Philosophers.

What a fortunate omen!

Hormisdas.

King Sapor calls himself the lion of the nations.

Numa.

[Busied at the altar.] Turn back; turn back, Emperor Julian!

Maximus.

Go fearlessly forward, chosen son of victory!

380Julian.

Turn back after this? As the lion fell at Zaita, so shall the lion of the nations fall before our arrows. Does not history warrant me in interpreting this omen to our advantage? Need I remind such learned men that when the Emperor Maximian conquered the Persian king, Narses, a lion, and a huge wild boar besides, were, in like manner, slain in front of the Roman ranks?

[To Ammian.

But now the other——? You spoke of two signs.

Ammian.

The other is more doubtful, sire! Your charger, Babylonius, was led forth, as you commanded, fully equipped, to await your descent on the other side of the mountain. But just at that time a detachment of Galilean convict-soldiers happened to pass. Heavily laden as they were, and by no means over willing, they had to be driven with scourges. Nevertheless they lifted up their arms as in rejoicing, and burst forth into a loud hymn in praise of their deity. Babylonius was startled by the sudden noise, reared in his fright, and fell backwards; and as he sprawled upon the ground, all his golden trappings were soiled and bespattered with mud.

Numa.

[At the altar.] Emperor Julian,—turn back, turn back!

Julian.

The Galileans must have done this out of malice,—and yet, in spite of themselves, they 381have brought to pass a portent which I hail with delight.

Yes, as Babylonius fell, so shall Babylon fall, stripped of all the splendour of its adornments.

Priscus.

What wisdom in interpretation!

Kytron.

By the gods, it must be so!

The other Philosophers.

So, and not otherwise!

Julian.

[To Nevita.] The army shall continue to advance. Nevertheless, for still greater security, I will sacrifice this evening and see what the omens indicate.

As for you Etruscan jugglers, whom I have brought hither at so great a cost, I will no longer suffer you in the camp, where you serve only to damp the soldiers’ spirits. You know nothing of the difficult calling you profess. What effrontery! What measureless presumption! Away with them! I will not set eyes on them again.

[Some of the guards drive the Soothsayers out to the left.

Babylonius fell. The lion succumbed before my soldiers. Yet these things do not tell us what invisible help we have to depend upon. The gods, whose essence is as yet by no means duly ascertained, seem sometimes—if I may say so—to slumber, or, on the whole, to concern themselves very little with human affairs. We, my dear friends, are so unfortunate as to live in such an 382age. We have even seen how certain divinities have neglected to support well-meant endeavours, tending to their own honour and glory.

Yet must we not judge rashly in this matter. It is conceivable that the immortals, who guide and uphold the universe, may sometimes depute their power to mortal hands,—not thereby, assuredly, lessening their own glory; for is it not thanks to them that so highly-favoured^[11] a mortal—if he exist—has been born into this world?

Priscus.

Oh matchless Emperor, do not your own achievements afford proof of this?

Julian.

I know not, Priscus, whether I dare rate my own achievements so highly. I say nothing of the fact that the Galileans believe the Jew, Jesus of Nazareth, to have been thus elected; for these men err—as I shall conclusively establish in my treatise against them. But I will remind you of Prometheus in ancient days. Did not that pre-eminent hero procure for mankind still greater blessings than the gods seemed to vouchsafe—wherefore he had to suffer much, both pain and despiteful usage, till he was at last exalted to the communion of the gods—to which, in truth, he had all the while belonged?

383And may not the same be said both of Herakles and of Achilles, and, finally, of the Macedonian Alexander, with whom some have compared me, partly on account of what I achieved in Gaul, partly, and especially, on account of my designs in the present campaign?

Nevita.

My Emperor—the rear-guard is now beneath us—it is perhaps time——

Julian.

Presently, Nevita! First I must tell you of a strange dream I had last night.

I dreamed that I saw a child pursued by a rich man who owned countless flocks, but despised the worship of the gods.

This wicked man exterminated all the child’s kindred. But Zeus took pity on the child itself, and held his hand over it.

Then I saw this child grow up into a youth, under the care of Minerva and Apollo.

Further, I dreamed that the youth fell asleep upon a stone beneath the open sky.

Then Hermes descended to him, in the likeness of a young man, and said: “Come; I will show thee the way to the abode of the highest god!” So he led the youth to the foot of a very steep mountain. There he left him.

Then the youth burst out into tears and lamentations, and called with a loud voice upon Zeus. Lo, then, Minerva and the Sun-King who rules the earth descended to his side, bore him aloft to the peak of the mountain, and showed him the whole inheritance of his race.

384But this inheritance was the orb of the earth from ocean to ocean, and beyond the ocean.

Then they told the youth that all this should belong to him. And therewith they gave him three warnings: he should not sleep, as his race had done; he should not hearken to the counsel of hypocrites; and, lastly, he should honour as gods those who resemble the gods. “Forget not,” they said, on leaving him, “that thou hast an immortal soul, and that this thy soul is of divine origin. And if thou follow our counsel thou shalt see our father and become a god, even as we.”

Priscus.

What are signs and omens to this!

Kytron.

It can scarcely be rash to anticipate that the Fates will think twice ere they suffer their counsels to clash with yours.

Julian.

We dare not build with certainty on such an exception. But assuredly I cannot but find this dream significant, although my brother Maximus, by his silence—against all reasonable expectation—seems to approve neither of the dream itself, nor of my relation of it.—But that we must bear with!

[He takes out a roll of paper.

See, Jovian; before I arose this morning, I noted down what I had dreamt. Take this paper, let numerous copies of it be made, and read to the various divisions of the army. I hold it of the utmost moment, on so hazardous an expedition, 385that, amid all dangers and difficulties, the soldiers may leave their fate securely in their leader’s hands, considering him infallible in all that concerns the issue of the war.

Jovian.

I pray you, my Emperor, let me be excused from this.

Julian.

What do you mean?

Jovian.

That I cannot lend my aid to anything that is against the truth.—Oh, hear me, my august Emperor and master! Is there a single one of your soldiers who doubts that he is safe in your hands? Have you not, on the Gallic frontier, in spite of overwhelming numbers and difficulties of all kinds, gained greater victories than any other living commander can boast of?

Julian.

Well, well! What startling news!

Jovian.

All know how marvellously fortune has hitherto followed you. In learning you excel all other mortals, and in the glorious art of eloquence you bear the palm among the greatest.

Julian.

And yet——? In spite of all this——?

Jovian.

In spite of all this, my Emperor, you are but mortal. By publishing this dream through the 386army you would seek to make men deem you a god,—and in that I dare not assist you.

Julian.

What say you, my friends, to this speech?

Kytron.

It assuredly shows no less effrontery than ignorance.

Julian.

You seem to forget, oh truth-loving Jovian, that the Emperor Antoninus, surnamed the Pious, has been worshipped in a special temple on the Roman forum as an immortal god. And not he alone, but also his wife, Faustina, and other Emperors before and after him.

Jovian.

I know it, sire,—but it was not given to our forefathers to live in the light of truth.

Julian.

[With a long look at him.] Ah, Jovian!——

Tell me,—last evening, when I was taking the omens for the coming night, you brought me a message just as I was laving the blood from my hands in the water of purification——

Jovian.

Yes, my Emperor!

Julian.

In my haste, I chanced to sprinkle a few drops of the water on your cloak. You shrank sharply backward and shook the water off, as if your cloak had been defiled.

387Jovian.

My Emperor,—so that did not escape you?

Julian.

Did you think it would have escaped me?

Jovian.

Yes, sire; for it was a matter between me and the one true God.

Julian.

Galilean!

Jovian.

Sire, you yourself sent me to Jerusalem, and I was witness to all that happened there. I have pondered much since then; I have read the scriptures of the Christians, have spoken with many of them,—and now I am convinced that in their teaching lies the truth of God.

Julian.

Is this possible? Can it be possible? Thus does this infectious frenzy spread! Even those nearest me—my own generals desert me——

Jovian.

Place me in the van against your foes, sire,—and you shall see how gladly I render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.

Julian.

How much——?

Jovian.

My blood, my life.

388Julian.

Blood and life are not enough. He who is to rule must rule over the minds, over the wills of men. It is in this that your Jesus of Nazareth bars my way and contests my power.

Think not that I will punish you, Jovian! You Galileans covet punishment as a benefaction. And after it you are called martyrs. Have they not thus exalted those whom I have been obliged to chastise for their obduracy?

Go to the vanguard! I will not willingly see your face again.—Oh, this treachery to me, which you veil in phrases about double duty and a double empire! This shall be altered. Other kings besides the Persian shall feel my foot on their necks.

To the vanguard, Jovian!

Jovian.

I shall do my duty, sire!

[He goes out to the right.

Julian.

We will not have this morning darkened, which rose amid so many happy omens. This, and more, will we bear with an even mind. But my dream shall none the less be published through the army. You, Kytron, and you, my Priscus, and my other friends, will see that this is done in a becoming manner.

The Philosophers.

With joy, with unspeakable joy, sire!

[They take the roll and go out to the right.

389Julian.

I beg you, Hormisdas, not to doubt my power, although it may seem as though stubbornness met me on every hand. Go; and you too, Nevita, and all the rest, each to his post;—I will follow when the troops are all gathered out on the plains.

[All except the Emperor and Maximus go out to the right.

Maximus.

[After a time, rises from the stone where he has been seated and goes up to the Emperor.] My sick brother!

Julian.

Rather wounded than sick. The deer that is pierced by the hunter’s shaft seeks the thicket where its fellows cannot see it. I could no longer endure to be seen in the streets of Antioch;—and now I shrink from showing myself to the army.

Maximus.

No one sees you, friend; for they grope in blindness. But you shall be as a physician to restore their sight, and then they shall behold you in your glory.

Julian.

[Gazing down into the ravine.] How far beneath us! How tiny they seem, as they wind their way forward, amid thicket and brushwood, along the rocky river-bed!

When we stood at the mouth of this defile, all the leaders, as one man, made for the pass. It meant an hour’s way shortened, a little trouble spared,—on the road to death.

390And the legions were so eager to follow. No thought of taking the upward path, no longing for the free air up here, where the bosom expands with each deep draught of breath. There they march, and march, and march, and see not that the heaven is straitened above them,—and know not there are heights where it is wider.—Seems it not, Maximus, as though men lived but to die? The spirit of the Galilean is in this. If it be true, as they say, that his father made the world, then the son contemns his father’s work. And it is just for this presumptuous frenzy that he is so highly revered!

How great was Socrates compared with him! Did not Socrates love pleasure, and happiness, and beauty? And yet he renounced them.—Is there not a bottomless abyss between not desiring, on the one hand, and, on the other, desiring, yet renouncing?

Oh, this treasure of lost wisdom I would fain have restored to men. Like Dionysus of old, I went forth to meet them, young and joyous, a garland on my brow, and the fulness of the vine in my arms. But they reject my gifts, and I am scorned, and hated, and derided, by friends and foes alike.

Maximus.

Why? I will tell you why.

Hard by a certain town where once I lived, there was a vineyard, renowned far and wide for its grapes; and when the citizens wished to have the finest fruits on their tables, they sent their servants out to bring clusters from this vineyard.

Many years after I came again to that city; but no one now knew aught of the grapes that were once so renowned. Then I sought the owner of 391the vineyard and said to him, “Tell me, friend, are your vines dead, since no one now knows aught of your grapes?” “No,” he answered, “but let me tell you, young vines yield good grapes but poor wine; old vines, on the contrary, bad grapes but good wine. Therefore, stranger,” he added, “I still gladden the hearts of my fellow citizens with the abundance of my vineyard, only in another form—as wine, not as grapes.”

Julian.

[Thoughtfully.] Yes, yes, yes!

Maximus.

You have not given heed to this. The vine of the world has grown old, and yet you think that you can still offer the raw grapes to those who thirst for the new wine.

Julian.

Alas, my Maximus, who thirsts? Name me a single man, outside our brotherhood, who is moved by a spiritual craving.—Unhappy I, to be born into this iron age!

Maximus.

Do not reproach the age. Had the age been greater, you would have been less. The world-soul is like a rich man with innumerable sons. If he share his riches equally, all are well to do, but none rich. But if he disinherit all but one, and give everything to him, then that one stands as a rich man amid a circle of paupers.

Julian.

No similitude could be less apt than this.—Am I like your single heir? Is not that very thing 392divided among many which the ruler of the world should possess in fuller measure than all besides—nay, which he alone should possess? Oh how is not power divided? Has not Libanius the power of eloquence in such fulness that men call him the king of orators? Have not you, my Maximus, the power of mystic wisdom? Has not that madman Apollinaris of Antioch the power of ecstatic song in a measure I needs must envy him? And then Gregory the Cappadocian! Has he not the power of indomitable will in such excess, that many have applied to him the epithet, unbecoming for a subject, of “the Great”? And—what is stranger still—the same epithet has been applied to Gregory’s friend, Basil, the soft-natured man with girlish eyes. And yet he plays no active part in the world; he lives here, this Basil—here in this remote region, wearing the habit of an anchorite, and holding converse with none but his disciples, his sister Makrina, and other women, who are called pious and holy. What influence do they not exert, both he and his sister, through the epistles they send forth from time to time. Everything, even renunciation and seclusion, becomes a power to oppose my power. But the crucified Jew is still the worst of all.

Maximus.

Then make an end of all these scattered powers! But dream not that you can crush the rebels, by attacking them in the name of a monarch whom they do not know. In your own name you must act, Julian! Did Jesus of Nazareth come as the emissary of another? Did he not proclaim himself to be one with him that sent him? Truly in you is the time fulfilled, and you see it not. Do 393not all signs and omens point, with unerring finger, to you? Must I remind you of your mother’s dream——?

Julian.

She dreamed that she brought forth Achilles.

Maximus.

Must I remind you how fortune has borne you, as on mighty pinions, through an agitated and perilous life? Who are you, sire? Are you Alexander born again, not, as before, in immaturity, but perfectly equipped for the fufilment of the task?

Julian.

Maximus!

Maximus.

There is One who ever reappears, at certain intervals, in the course of human history. He is like a rider taming a wild horse in the arena. Again and yet again it throws him. A moment, and he is in the saddle again, each time more secure and more expert; but off he has had to go, in all his varying incarnations, until this day. Off he had to go as the god-created man in Eden’s grove; off he had to go as the founder of the world-empire;—off he must go as the prince of the empire of God. Who knows how often he has wandered among us when none have recognised him?

How know you, Julian, that you were not in him whom you now persecute?

Julian.

[Looking far away.] Oh unfathomable riddle——!

394Maximus.

Must I remind you of the old prophecy now set afloat again? It has been foretold that so many years as the year has days should the empire of the Galilean endure. Two years more, and ’twill be three hundred and sixty-five years since that man was born in Bethlehem.

Julian.

Do you believe this prophecy?

Maximus.

I believe in him who is to come.

Julian.

Always riddles!

Maximus.

I believe in the free necessity.

Julian.

Still darker riddles.

Maximus.

Behold, Julian,—when Chaos seethed in the fearful void abyss, and Jehovah was alone,—that day when he, according to the old Jewish scriptures, stretched forth his hand and divided light from darkness, sea from land,—that day the great creating God stood on the summit of his power.

But with man arose will upon the earth. And men, and beasts, and trees, and herbs re-created themselves, each in its own image, according to eternal laws; and by eternal laws the stars roll through the heavenly spaces.

Did Jehovah repent? The ancient traditions of all races tell of a repentant Creator.

395He had established the law of perpetuation in the universe. Too late to repent! The created will perpetuate itself—and is perpetuated.

But the two onesided empires war one against the other. Where, where is he, the king of peace, the twin-sided one, who shall reconcile them?

Julian.

[To himself.] Two years? All the gods inactive. No capricious power behind, which might bethink itself to cross my plans——

Two years? In two years I can bring the earth under my sway.

Maximus.

You spoke, my Julian;—what said you?

Julian.

I am young and strong and healthy. Maximus—it is my will to live long.

[He goes out to the right. Maximus follows him.

SCENE SECOND

A hilly wooded region with a brook among the trees. On an elevation a little farm. It is towards sunset.

Columns of soldiers pass from left to right at the foot of the slope. Basil of Caesarea, and his sister Makrina, both in the dress of hermits, stand by the wayside and offer water and fruits to the weary soldiers.

Makrina.

Oh, Basil, see—each paler and more haggard than the last!

396Basil.

And countless multitudes of our Christian brethren among them! Woe to the Emperor Julian! This is a cruelty more cunningly contrived than all the horrors of the torture-chamber. Against whom is he leading his hosts? Less against the Persian king than against Christ.

Makrina.

Do you believe this dreadful thing of him?

Basil.

Yes, Makrina, it becomes more and more clear to me that ’tis against us the blow is aimed. All the defeats he has suffered in Antioch, all the resistance he has met with, all the disappointments and humiliations he has had to endure on his ungodly path, he hopes to bury in oblivion by means of a victorious campaign. And he will succeed. A great victory will blot out everything. Men are fashioned so; they see right in success, and before might most of them will bend.

Makrina.

[Pointing out to the left.] Fresh multitudes! Innumerable, unceasing——

[A company of soldiers passes by; a young man in the ranks sinks down on the road from weariness.

A Subaltern.

[Beating him with a stick.] Up with you, lazy hound!

Makrina.

[Hastening up.] Oh, do not strike him!

397The Soldier.

Let them strike me;—I am so glad to suffer.

Ammian.

[Entering.] Again a stoppage!—Oh, it is he. Can he really go no further?

The Subaltern.

I do not know what to say, sir; he falls at every step.

Makrina.

Oh, be patient! Who is this unhappy man?—See, suck the juice of these fruits.—Who is he, sir?

Ammian.

A Cappadocian,—one of the fanatics who took part in the desecration of the temple of Venus at Antioch.

Makrina.

Oh, one of those martyrs——!

Ammian.

Try to rise, Agathon! I am sorry for this fellow. They chastised him more severely than he could bear. He has been out of his mind ever since.

Agathon.

[Rising.] I can bear it very well, and I am in my right mind, sir! Strike, strike, strike;—I rejoice to suffer.

Ammian.

[To the Subaltern.] Forward; we have no time to waste.

398The Subaltern.

[To the soldiers.] Forward, forward!

Agathon.

Babylonius fell;—soon shall the Babylonian whoremonger fall likewise. The lion of Zaita was slain—the crowned lion of the earth is doomed!

[The soldiers are driven out to the right.

Ammian.

[To Basil and Makrina.] You strange people;—you go astray and yet you do good. Thanks for your refreshment to the weary; and would that my duty to the Emperor permitted me to treat your brethren as forbearingly as I should desire.

[He goes off to the right.

Basil.

God be with you, noble heathen!

Makrina.

Who may that man be?

Basil.

I know him not.

[He points to the left.

Oh see, see—there he is himself!

Makrina.

The Emperor? Is that the Emperor?

Basil.

Yes, that is he.

The Emperor Julian with several of his principal officers, escorted by a detachment of guards, with their captain Anatolus, enters from the left.

399Julian.

[To his retinue.] Why talk of fatigue? Should the fall of a horse bring me to a standstill? Or is it less becoming to go on foot than to bestride an inferior animal? Fatigue! My ancestor said that it befits an Emperor to die standing. I say that it befits an Emperor, not only in the hour of death, but throughout his whole life, to set an example of endurance; I say—— Ah, by the great light of heaven! do I not see Basil of Caesarea before my eyes?

Basil.

[Bowing deeply.] Your meanest servant, oh most mighty lord!

Julian.

Ah, I know what that means! Truly you serve me well, Basil!

[Approaching.

So this is the villa that has become so renowned by reason of the epistles that go forth from it. This house is more talked of throughout the provinces than all the lecture-halls together, although I have spared neither care nor pains to restore their glory.

Tell me—is not this woman your sister, Makrina?

Basil.

She is, sire!

Julian.

You are a fair woman, and still young. And yet, as I hear, you have renounced life.

Makrina.

Sire, I have renounced life in order truly to live.

400Julian.

Ah, I know your delusions very well. You sigh for that which lies beyond, of which you have no certain knowledge; you mortify your flesh; you repress all human desires. And yet I tell you this may be a vanity, like the rest.

Basil.

Think not, sire, that I am blind to the danger that lurks in renunciation. I know that my friend Gregory says well when he writes that he holds himself a hermit in heart, though not in the body. And I know that this coarse clothing is of small profit to my soul if I take merit to myself for wearing it.

But that is not my case. This secluded life fills me with unspeakable happiness; that is all. The wild convulsions through which, in these days, the world is passing, do not here force themselves, in all their hideousness, upon my eyes. Here I feel my body uplifted in prayer, and my soul purified by a frugal life.

Julian.

Oh my modest Basil, I fear you are ambitious of more than this. If what I hear be true, your sister has gathered round her a band of young women whom she is training up in her own likeness. And you yourself, like your Galilean master, have chosen twelve disciples. What is your purpose with them?

Basil.

To send them forth into all lands, that they may strengthen our brethren in the fight.

401Julian.

Truly! Equipped with all the weapons of eloquence, you send your army against me. And whence did you obtain this eloquence, this glorious Greek art? From our schools of learning. What right have you to it? You have stolen like a spy into our camp, to find out where you can most safely strike at us. And this knowledge you are now applying to our greatest hurt!

Let me tell you, Basil, that I have no mind to suffer this scandal any longer. I will strike this weapon out of your hands. Keep to your Matthew and Luke, and other such unpolished babblers. But henceforth you shall not be permitted to interpret our ancient poets and philosophers; for I hold it unreasonable to let you suck knowledge and skill from sources in the truth of which you do not believe. In like manner shall all Galilean scholars be forbidden our lecture-halls; for what is their business there? To steal our weapons and use them against us.

Basil.

Sire, I have already heard of this strange determination. And I agree with Gregory in maintaining that you have no exclusive right either to Grecian learning or to Grecian eloquence. I agree with him when he points out that you use the alphabet which was invented by the Egyptians, and that you clothe yourself in purple, although it first came into use among the people of Tyre.

Ay, sire—and more than that. You subdue nations, and make yourself ruler over peoples, whose tongues are unknown and whose manners are strange to you. And you have a right to do 402so. But by the same right whereby you rule the visible world, he whom you call the Galilean rules the invisible——

Julian.

Enough of that! I will no longer listen to such talk. You speak as though there were two rulers of the world, and on that plea you cry halt to me at every turn. Oh fools! You set up a dead man against a living one. But you shall soon be convinced of your error. Do not suppose that amid the cares of war I have laid aside the treatise I have long been preparing against you. Perhaps you think I spend my nights in sleep? You are mistaken! For “The Beard-Hater” I reaped nothing but scorn,—and that from the very people who had most reason to lay certain truths to heart. But that shall in nowise deter me. Should a man with a cudgel in his hand shrink from a pack of yelping dogs?—Why did you smile, woman? At what did you laugh?

Makrina.

Why, sire, do you rage so furiously against one who, you say, is dead?

Julian.

Ah, I understand! You mean to say that he is alive.

Makrina.

I mean to say, oh mighty Emperor, that in your heart you feel of a surety that he lives.

Julian.

I? What next! I feel——!

403Makrina.

What is it that you hate and persecute? Not him, but your belief in him. And does he not live in your hate and persecution, no less than in our love?

Julian.

I know your tortuous tricks of speech. You Galileans say one thing and mean another. And that you call rhetoric! Oh mediocre minds! What folly! I feel that the crucified Jew is alive! Oh what a degenerate age, to find satisfaction in such sophistries! But such is the latter-day world. Madness passes for wisdom. How many sleepless nights have I not spent in searching out the true foundation of things? But where are my followers? Many praise my eloquence, but few, or none, are convinced by it.

But truly the end is not yet. A great astonishment will come upon you. You shall see how all the scattered forces are converging into one. You shall see how, from all that you now despise, glory shall issue forth—and out of the cross on which you hang your hopes I will fashion a ladder for One whom you know not of.

Makrina.

And I tell you, Emperor Julian, that you are nought but a scourge in the hand of God—a scourge foredoomed to chasten us by reason of our sins. Woe to us that it must be so! Woe to us for the discords and the lovelessness that have caused us to swerve from the true path!

There was no longer a king in Israel. Therefore has the Lord stricken you with madness, that you might chastise us.

404What a spirit has he not darkened, that it should rage against us! What a blossoming tree has he not stripped to make rods for our sin-laden shoulders!

Portents warned you, and you heeded them not. Voices called you, and you heard them not. Hands wrote in letters of fire upon the wall, and you rubbed out the writing ere you had deciphered it.

Julian.

Basil—I would I had known this woman before to-day.

Basil.

Come, Makrina!

Makrina.

Woe is me that ever I saw those shining eyes! Angel and serpent in one; the apostate’s longing wedded to the tempter’s guile! Oh, how have our brethren and sisters borne their hope of victory so high, in the face of such an instrument of wrath? In him dwells a greater than he. Do you not see it, Basil—in him will the Lord God smite us even to death.

Julian.

You have said it!

Makrina.

Not I!

Julian.

First-won soul!

Makrina.

Avaunt from me!

405Basil.

Come—come!

Julian.

Stay here!—Anatolus, set a guard about them!—’Tis my will that you shall follow the army—both you and your disciples,—youths and women.

Basil.

Sire, you cannot desire this!

Julian.

’Tis not wise to leave fortresses in our rear. See, I stretch forth my hand and quench the burning shower of arrows which you have sent forth from yonder villa.

Basil.

Nay, nay, sire—this deed of violence——

Makrina.

Alas, Basil—here or elsewhere—all is over.

Julian.

Is it not written “Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s”? I require all aid in this campaign. You can tend my sick and wounded. In that you will be serving the Galilean as well; and if you still think that a duty, I counsel you to make good use of your time. His end is near!

[Some soldiers have surrounded Basil and Makrina, others hasten through the thicket towards the house.

406Makrina.

Sunset over our home; sunset of hope and of light in the world! Oh Basil! that we should live to see the night!

Basil.

The light is.

Julian.

The light shall be. Turn your backs to the sunset, Galileans! Your faces to the east, to the east, where Helios lies dreaming. Verily I say unto you, you shall see the Sun-King of the world.

[He goes out to the right; all follow him.

SCENE THIRD.

Beyond the Euphrates and Tigris. A wide plain, with the imperial camp. Copses, to the left and in the background, hide the windings of the Tigris. Masts of ships rise over the thickets in long rows, stretching into the far distance. A cloudy evening.

Soldiers and men-at-arms of all sorts are busy pitching their tents on the plain. All kinds of stores are being brought from the ships. Watchfires far away. Nevita, Jovian, and other officers come from the fleet.

Nevita.

See, now, how rightly the Emperor has chosen! Here we stand, without a stroke, on the enemy’s territory; no one has opposed our passage of the river; not even a single Persian horseman is to be seen.

407Jovian.

No, sir, by this route, the enemy certainly did not expect us.

Nevita.

You speak as if you still thought this route unwisely chosen.

Jovian.

Yes, sir, it is still my opinion that we should rather have taken a more northerly direction. Then our left wing would have rested on Armenia, which is friendly towards us, and all our supplies might have come from that fruitful province. But here? Hampered in our progress by the heavy freight-ships, surrounded by a barren plain, almost a desert—— Ah! the Emperor is coming. I will go; I am not in his good graces at present.

He goes out to the right. At the same time Julian enters with his retinue from the ships. Oribases, the physician, the philosophers Priscus and Kytron, with several others, appear from among the tents on the right, and advance to meet the Emperor.

Julian.

Thus does the empire grow. Every step I take towards the east shifts the frontier of my dominion.

[He stamps on the earth.

This earth is mine! I am in the empire, not beyond it.—Well, Priscus——?

Priscus.

Incomparable Emperor, your command has been executed. Your marvellous dream has been read to every division of the army.

408Julian.

Good, good. And how did my dream seem to affect the soldiers?

Kytron.

Some praised you with joyful voices, and hailed you as divine; others on the contrary——

Priscus.

Those others were Galileans, Kytron!

Kytron.

Yes, yes, most of them were Galileans; and these smote upon their breasts and uttered loud lamentations.

Julian.

I will not let the matter rest here. The busts of myself, which I have provided for erection in the towns I am to conquer, shall be set up round the camp, over all the paymasters’ tables. Lamps shall be lighted beside the busts; braziers, with sweet-smelling incense, shall burn before them; and every soldier, as he comes forward to receive his pay, shall cast some grains of incense on the fire.

Oribases.

Most gracious Emperor, forgive me, but—is that expedient?

Julian.

Why not? I marvel at you, my Oribases!

Priscus.

Ah, sire, you may well marvel!marvel! Not expedient to——?

409Kytron.

Should not a Julian dare what less god-like men have dared?

Julian.

I, too, think that the more daring course would now be to disguise the counsels of the mystic powers. If it be the case that the divinities have deputed their sovereignty into earthly hands—as many signs justify us in concluding—it would indeed be most ungrateful to conceal the fact. In such hazardous circumstances as these, ’tis no trifling matter that the soldiers should pay their devotions in a quite different quarter from that in which they are due.

I tell you, Oribases, and all of you,—if, indeed, there be present any one else who would set limits to the Emperor’s power,—that this would be the very essence of impiety, and that I should therefore be forced to take strong measures against it.

Has not Plato long ago enunciated the truth that only a god can rule over men? What meant he by that saying? Answer me—what did he mean? Far be it from me to assert that Plato—incomparable sage though he was—had any individual, even the greatest, in his prophetic eye. But I think we have all seen what disorders result from the parcelling out, as it were, of the supreme power into several hands.

Enough of that. I have already commanded that the imperial busts shall be displayed about the camp.

Ah! what seek you in such haste, Eutherius?

The Chamberlain Eutherius comes from the ships, accompanied by a man in girt-up garments.

410Eutherius.

Exalted Emperor,—this man of Antioch is sent by the governor, Alexander, and brings you a letter which, he says, is of great importance.

Julian.

Ah, let me see! Light here!

[A torch is brought; the Emperor opens and reads the letter.

Julian.

Can this be possible! More light! Yes, here it is written—and here—; what next?—Truly this exceeds all I could have conceived!

Nevita.

Bad news from the west, sire?

Julian.

Nevita, tell me, how long will it take us to reach Ctesiphon?

Nevita.

It cannot be done in less than thirty days.

Julian.

It must be done in less! Thirty days! A whole month! And while we are creeping forward here, I must let those madmen——

Nevita.

You know yourself, sire, that, on account of the ships, we must follow all the windings of the river. The current is rapid, and the bed, too, shallow and stony. I hold it impossible to proceed more quickly.

411Julian.

Thirty days! And then there is the city to be taken,—the Persian army to be routed,—peace to be concluded. What a time all this will take! Yet there were some among you foolish enough to urge upon me an even more roundabout route. Ha-ha; they would compass my ruin!

Nevita.

Never fear, sire; the expedition shall advance with all possible speed.

Julian.

It must indeed. Can you imagine what Alexander tells me? The frenzy of the Galileans has passed all bounds since my departure. And it increases day by day. They understand that my victory in Persia will bring their extirpation in its train; and with that shameless Gregory as their leader, they now stand, like a hostile army in my rear; in the Phrygian regions secret things are preparing, no one knows to what end——

Nevita.

What does this mean, sire? What are they doing?

Julian.

What are they doing? Praying, preaching, singing, prophesying the end of the world. And would that that were all!—but they carry our adherents away, and entice them into their rebellious conspiracies. In Caesarea the congregation has chosen the judge Eusebius to be their bishop,—Eusebius, an unbaptised man—and he has been 412so misguided as to accept their call, which, moreover, the canon of their own church declares invalid.

But that is far from being the worst; worse, worse, ten times worse is it, that Athanasius has returned to Alexandria.

Nevita.

Athanasius!

Priscus.

That mysterious bishop who, six years ago, vanished into the desert.

Julian.

A council of the church expelled him on account of his unseemly zeal. The Galileans were tractable under my predecessor.

Yes, just think of it—this raging fanatic has returned to Alexandria. His entrance was like a king’s; the road was strewn with carpets and green palm-branches. And what followed? What do you think? The same night a riot broke out among the Galileans. George, their lawful bishop, that right-minded and well-disposed man, whom they accused of lukewarmness in the faith, was murdered—torn to pieces in the streets of the city.

Nevita.

But, sire, how were things suffered to go so far? Where was the governor, Artemius?

Julian.

You may well ask where Artemius was. I will tell you. Artemius has gone over to the Galileans. Artemius himself has broken by force of arms 413into the Serapeion, that most glorious of earthly temples,—has shattered the statues—has plundered the altars, and destroyed that vast treasury of books, which was of such inestimable value precisely in this age of error and ignorance. I could weep for them as for a friend bereft me by death, were not my wrath too great for tears.

Kytron.

Truly, this surpasses belief!

Julian.

And not to be within reach of these miserable beings to punish them! To be doomed to look idly on while such atrocities spread wider and wider around!—Thirty days, you say! Why are we loitering? Why are we pitching our tents? Why should we sleep? Do my generals not know what is at stake? We must hold a council of war. When I remember what the Macedonian Alexander achieved in thirty days——

Jovian, accompanied by a man in Persian garb, unarmed, enters from the camp.

Jovian.

Forgive me, sire, for appearing before you: but this stranger——

Julian.

A Persian warrior!

The Persian.

[Prostrating himself to the earth.] No warrior, oh mighty Emperor!

414Jovian.

He came riding over the plains unarmed, and surrendered at the outposts——

Julian.

Then your countrymen are at hand?

The Persian.

No, no!

Julian.

Whence come you then?

The Persian.

[Throws open his garments.] Look at these arms, oh ruler of the world,—bleeding from rusty fetters. Feel this flayed back,—sore upon sore. I come from the torture chamber, sire!

Julian.

Ah—a fugitive from King Sapor?

The Persian.

Yes, mighty Emperor, to whom all things are known! I stood high in King Sapor’s favour until, impelled by the terror of your approach, I dared to prophesy that this war would end in his destruction. Would you know, sire, how he has rewarded me? My wife he gave as a prey to his archers from the mountains; my children he sold as slaves; all my possessions he divided among his servants; myself he tortured for nine days. Then he bade me ride forth and die like a beast in the desert.

Julian.

And what would you with me?

415The Persian.

What would I after such treatment? I would help you to destroy my persecutor.

Julian.

Ah, poor tortured wretch,—how can you help?

The Persian.

I can lend wings to your soldiers’ feet.

Julian.

What mean you by that? Rise and explain yourself.

The Persian.

[Rising.] No one in Ctesiphon expected you to choose this route——

Julian.

I know that.

The Persian.

Now ’tis no longer a secret.

Julian.

You lie, fellow! You Persians know nought of my designs.

The Persian.

You, sire, whose wisdom is born of the sun and of fire, know well that my countrymen are now acquainted with your designs. You have crossed the rivers by means of your ships; these ships, more than a thousand in number, and laden with all the supplies of the army, are to be towed up the Tigris, and the troops are to advance abreast of the ships.

416Julian.

Incredible——!

The Persian.

When the ships have approached as near Ctesiphon as possible—that is to say, within two days’ march—you will make straight for the city, beleaguer it, and compel King Sapor to surrender.

Julian.

[Looking round.] Who has betrayed us?

The Persian.

This plan is now no longer practicable. My countrymen have hastily constructed stone dams in the bed of the river, on which your ships will run aground.

Julian.

Man, do you know what it will cost you if you deceive me?

The Persian.

My body is in your power, mighty Emperor! If I speak not the truth, you are free to burn me alive.

Julian.

[To Nevita.] The river dammed! It will take weeks to make it navigable again.

Nevita.

If it can be done at all, sire! We have not the implements——

417Julian.

And that this should come upon us now—just when so much depends on a speedy victory.^[12]

The Persian.

Oh ruler of the world, I have said that I can lend your army wings.

Julian.

Speak! Do you know of a shorter way?

The Persian.

If you will promise me that after your victory you will restore the possessions of which I have been robbed, and give me a new wife of noble birth, I will——

Julian.

I promise everything; only speak,—speak!

The Persian.

Strike straight across the plains, and in four days you will be under the walls of Ctesiphon.

Julian.

Do you forget the mountain chain on the other side of the plains?

The Persian.

Sire, have you never heard of that strange defile among the mountains?

418Julian.

Yes, yes, a chasm; “Ahriman’s Street” it is called. Is it true that it exists?

The Persian.

I rode through “Ahriman’s Street” two days ago.

Julian.

Nevita!

Nevita.

In truth sire, if it be so——

Julian.

Miraculous help in the hour of need——!

The Persian.

But if you would pass that way, oh mighty one, there is not a moment to be lost. The Persian army which had been assembled in the northern provinces, is now recalled to block the mountain passes.

Julian.

Know you that for certain?

The Persian.

Delay, and you will discover it for yourself.

Julian.

How many days will it take your countrymen to get there?

The Persian.

Four days, sire!

419Julian.

Nevita, in three days we must be beyond the defiles!

Nevita.

[To the Persian.] Is it possible to reach the defiles in three days?

The Persian.

Yes, great warrior, it is possible, if you make use of this night as well.

Julian.

Let the camp be broken up! No time now for sleep, for rest! In four days—or five at the utmost—I must stand before Ctesiphon.—What are you thinking about! Ah, I know.

Nevita.

The fleet, sire!

Julian.

Yes, yes, yes, the fleet!

Nevita.

Should the Persian army reach the defiles a day later than we, they will—if they cannot injure you in any other way—turn westward against your ships——

Julian.

And seize a vast amount of booty, wherewith to continue the war——

Nevita.

If we could leave twenty thousand men with the ships, they would be safe——

420Julian.

What are you thinking of! Twenty thousand? Well nigh a third of our fighting strength. Where would be the force with which I must strike the great blow? Divided, dispersed, frittered away. Not one man will I detach for such a purpose.

No, no, Nevita; but there may be a middle course——

Nevita.

[Recoiling.] My great Emperor—!

Julian.

The fleet must neither fall into the hands of the Persians, nor yet cost us men. There is a middle course, I tell you! Why do you falter? Why not speak it out?

Nevita.

[To the Persian.] Do you know whether the citizens of Ctesiphon have stores of corn and oil?

The Persian.

Ctesiphon overflows with supplies of all sorts.

Julian.

And when we have once taken the city, the whole rich country lies open to us.

The Persian.

The citizens will open their gates to you, sire. I am not the only one who hates King Sapor. They will rise against him and straightway submit to you, if you come upon them, unprepared and panic-stricken, with your whole united force.

421Julian.

Yes; yes.

The Persian.

Burn the ships, sire!

Nevita.

Ah!

Julian.

His hate has eyes where your fidelity is blind, Nevita!

Nevita.

My fidelity saw, sire; but it shrank from what it saw.

Julian.

Are not these ships like fetters on our feet? We have provisions for four full days in the camp. It is well that the soldiers should not be too heavily laden. Of what use, then, are the ships? We have no more rivers to pass——

Nevita.

Sire, if it be indeed your will——

Julian.

My will,—my will? Oh, on an evening like this,—so angry and tempestuous,—why cannot a flash of lightning descend and——

Maximus.

[Entering hastily from the left.] Oh chosen son of Helios—hear me, hear me!

Julian.

Not now, my Maximus!

422Maximus.

Nothing can be more pressing than this. You must hear me!

Julian.

Then in the name of fortune and wisdom, speak, my brother!

Maximus.

[Draws him apart, and says in a low voice.] You know how I have striven to search and spell out, both in books and through auguries, the issue of this campaign?

Julian.

I know that you have been unable to foretell anything.

Maximus.

The omens spoke and the writings confirmed them. But the answer which always came was so strange that I could not but think myself mistaken.

Julian.

But now——?

Maximus.

When we departed from Antioch, I wrote to Rome to consult the Sibylline Books——

Julian.

Yes, yes——!

Maximus.

This very moment the answer has arrived; a courier from the governor of Antioch brought it.

Julian.

Ah, Maximus,—and its purport——?

423Maximus.

The same as that of the omens and the books; and now I dare interpret it. Rejoice, my brother,—in this war you are invulnerable.

Julian.

The oracle,—the oracle?

Maximus.

The Sibylline Books say: “Julian must beware of the Phrygian regions.”

Julian.

[Recoiling.] The Phrygian——? Ah, Maximus!

Maximus.

Why so pale, my brother?

Julian.

Tell me, dear teacher—how do you interpret this answer?

Maximus.

Is more than one interpretation possible? The Phrygian regions? What have you to do in Phrygia? In Phrygia—a remote province lying far behind you, where you need never set your foot. No danger threatens you, fortunate man—that is the interpretation.

Julian.

This oracle has a twofold meaning. No danger threatens me in this war,—but from that distant region——

Nevita, Nevita!

424Nevita.

Sire——!

Julian.

In Phrygia? Alexander writes of secret things preparing in Phrygia. It has been foretold that the Galilean is to come again——

Burn the ships, Nevita!

Nevita.

Sire, is this your firm and irrevocable will——?

Julian.

Burn them! No delay! Lurking dangers threaten us in the rear.

[To one of the captains.

Give close heed to this stranger. He is to be our guide. Refresh him with food and drink, and let him have thorough rest.

Jovian.

My Emperor, I implore you—build not too securely on the reports of a deserter like this.

Julian.

Aha—you seem perturbed, my Galilean councillor! All this is not quite to your mind. Perhaps you know more than you care to tell.

Go, Nevita,—and burn the ships!

[Nevita bows and goes out to the left. The captain leads the Persian away among the tents.

Julian.

Traitors in my own camp! Wait, wait,—I shall get to the bottom of these machinations.

425The camp shall break up! Go, Jovian, see that the vanguard is afoot within an hour. The Persian knows the way. Go!

Jovian.

As you command, my august Emperor!

[He goes out to the right.

Maximus.

You would burn the fleet? Then surely you have great things in your mind.

Julian.

Tell me, would the Macedonian Alexander have ventured this?

Maximus.

Did Alexander know where the danger threatened?

Julian.

True, true! I know it. All the powers of victory are in league with me. Omens and signs yield up their mystic secrets to advance my empire.

Is it not said of the Galilean, that spirits came and ministered unto him?—To whom do the spirits now minister?

What would the Galilean say, were he present unseen among us?

Maximus.

He would say: the third empire is at hand.

Julian.

The third empire is here, Maximus! I feel that the Messiah of the earth lives in me. The 426spirit has become flesh and the flesh spirit. All creation lies within my will and my power.

See, see,—there are the first sparks drifting aloft. The flames are licking up the cordage and the clustered masts.

[He shouts in the direction of the fire.

Spread; spread!

Maximus.

The wind anticipates your will. ’Tis rising to serve you.

Julian.

[Commanding with clenched hand.] Swell into a storm! More westerly! I command it!

Fromentinus.

[Enters from the right.] Most gracious Emperor,—suffer me to warn you. A dangerous disturbance has broken out in the camp.

Julian.

I will have no more disturbances. The army shall advance.

Fromentinus.

Yes, my Emperor,—but the refractory Galileans——

Julian.

The Galileans? What of them?

Fromentinus.

Before the tables where the paymasters were distributing the soldiers’ pay, your august image had been set up——

Julian.

It is always to be so for the future.

427Fromentinus.

Every man was ordered, as he came forward, to cast a grain of incense into the braziers——

Julian.

Yes—well, well?

Fromentinus.

Many of the Galilean soldiers did so unthinkingly, but others refused——?

Julian.

What! they refused?

Fromentinus.

At first, sire; but when the paymasters told them that ’twas an old custom revived, in no wise pertaining to things divine——

Julian.

Aha! what then?

Fromentinus.

——they yielded and did as they were bidden.

Julian.

There you see; they yielded!

Fromentinus.

But afterward, sire, our own men laughed and mocked at them, and said, unthinkingly, that now they had best efface the sign of the cross and the fish which they are wont to imprint upon their arms; for now they had worshipped the divine Emperor.

428Julian.

Yes, yes! And the Galileans?

Fromentinus.

They broke out into loud lamentations——; listen, listen, sire! It is impossible to bring them to reason.

[Wild cries are heard without, among the tents.

Julian.

The madmen! Rebellious to the last. They know not that their master’s power is broken.

[Christian soldiers come rushing in. Some beat their breasts; others tear their garments, with loud cries and weeping.

A Soldier.

Christ died for me, and I forsook him!

Another Soldier.

Smite me, oh wrathful Lord in heaven; for I have worshipped false gods!

The Soldier Agathon.

The devil on the throne has slain my soul! Woe, woe, woe!woe!

Other Soldiers.

[Tearing off the leaden seals which they wear round their necks.] We will not serve idols!

Others Again.

The Apostate is not our ruler! We will go home! home!

429Julian.

Fromentinus, seize these madmen! Hew them down!

[Fromentinus and many of the bystanders are on the point of falling upon the Christian soldiers. At that moment a vivid glare spreads over the sky, and flames burst from the ships.

Officers and Soldiers.

[Terror-stricken.] The fleet is burning!

Julian.

Yes, the fleet is burning! And more than the fleet is burning. In that blazing, swirling pyre the crucified Galilean is burning to ashes; and the earthly Emperor is burning with the Galilean. But from the ashes shall arise—like that marvellous bird—the God of earth and the Emperor of the spirit in one, in one, in one!

Several Voices.

Madness has seized him!

Nevita.

[Entering from the left.] It is done.

Jovian.

[Approaching hastily from the camp.] Quench the fire! Out, out with it!

Julian.

Let it burn! Let it burn!

Ammian.

[From the camp.] Sire, you are betrayed. That Persian fugitive was a traitor——

430Julian.

Man, you lie! Where is he?

Ammian.

Fled!

Jovian.

Vanished like a shadow——

Nevita.

Fled!

Jovian.

His guards protest that he disappeared almost under their very eyes.

Ammian.

His horse, too, is gone from its pen; the Persian must have fled over the plains.

Julian.

Quench the fire, Nevita!

Nevita.

Impossible, my Emperor!

Julian.

Put it out, I say. It shall be possible!

Nevita.

Nothing could be more impossible. All the cables are cut; the rest of the ships are all drifting down upon the burning wrecks.

Prince Hormisdas.

[Coming from among the tents.] Curses upon my countrymen! Oh sire, how could you give ear to that deceiver?

431Cries from the Camp.

The fleet on fire! Cut off from home! Death before us!

The Soldier Agathon.

False god, false god,—bid the storm to cease! bid the flames die down!

Jovian.

The storm increases. The fire is like a rolling sea——

Maximus.

[Whispers.] Beware of the Phrygian regions.

Julian.

[Shouts to the army.] Let the fleet burn! Within seven days you shall burn Ctesiphon.

432

ACT FIFTH.

SCENE FIRST.

A barren, stony desert, without trees or grass. To the right, the Emperor’s tent. Afternoon.

Exhausted soldiers lie in knots on the plain. Detachments now and again pass by from left to right. Outside the tent are the philosophers Priscus and Kytron, with several others of the Emperor’s suite, waiting in restless anxiety. The captain of the bodyguard, Anatolus, stands with soldiers before the opening of the tent.

Kytron.

Is is not incredible that this council of war should last so long?

Priscus.

Ay, truly; one would think there were only two courses to choose between: to advance or to retire.

Kytron.

’Tis utterly incomprehensible——

Tell me, good Anatolus, why, in the name of the gods, do we not advance?

Priscus.

Yes, why alarm us by halting here in the middle of the desert?

433Anatolus.

See you the quivering air on the horizon, to the north, east, and south?

Kytron.

Of course, of course; that is the heat——

Anatolus.

It is the desert burning.

Priscus.

What say you? The desert burning?

Kytron.

Do not jest so unpleasantly, good Anatolus! Tell us,—what is it?

Anatolus.

The desert burning, I tell you. Out yonder, where the sand ceases, the Persians have set the grass on fire. We can make no progress till the ground cools.

Kytron.

Oh is not this appalling! What barbarians! To have recourse to such means——!

Priscus.

Then there is no choice left us. Without provisions, without water——; why do we not retreat?

Anatolus.

Over the Tigris and Euphrates?

434Kytron.

And the fleet burnt! What way is this to conduct the war? Oh, why does not the Emperor think more of his friends! How shall I get home again?

Anatolus.

Like the rest of us, friend!

Kytron.

Like the rest? Like the rest! That is a fine way to talk. With you it is quite another matter. You are soldiers. ’Tis your calling to endure certain hardships to which I am not at all accustomed. I did not join the Emperor’s suite to go through all this. Here am I tortured with gnats and poisonous flies;—look at my hands!

Priscus.

Most certainly we did not come for this. We consented to accompany the army in order to compose panegyrics on the victories the Emperor intended to win. What has come of these victories? What has been achieved during the six toilsome weeks since the fleet was burnt? We have destroyed a few deserted towns of the sorriest kind. A few prisoners have been exhibited in the camp, whom the advance-guard are said to have taken—truly I know not in what battles! The prisoners, methought, looked more like poor kidnapped shepherds and peasants——

Kytron.

And to think of burning the fleet! Said I not from the first that it would be a source of disaster?

435Anatolus.

I did not hear you say so.

Kytron.

What? Did I not say so? Oh Priscus, did you not hear me say it?

Priscus.

Truly, I do not know, friend; but I know that I myself in vain denounced that luckless measure. Indeed I may say that I opposed the whole campaign at this time of year. What rash haste! Where were the Emperor’s eyes? Is this the same hero who fought with such marvellous success upon the Rhine? One would think he had been struck with blindness or some spiritual disease.

Anatolus.

Hush, hush;—what talk is this?

Kytron.

’Twas indeed no fitting way for our Priscus to express himself. Yet I, too, cannot deny that I observe a deplorable lack of wisdom in many of the crowned philosopher’s recent proceedings. How precipitate to set up his busts in the camp, and claim worship as if he were a god! How imprudent so openly to scoff at that strange teacher from Nazareth, who undeniably possesses a peculiar power, which might have stood us in good stead in these perilous conjunctures.

Ah! here comes Nevita himself. Now we shall hear——

[Nevita comes out of the tent. In the opening he turns and makes a sign to some one within. The physician Oribases immediately comes out.

436Nevita.

[Drawing him aside.] Tell me openly, Oribases,—is there anything amiss with the Emperor’s mind?

Oribases.

What should make you think that, sir?

Nevita.

How else can I interpret his conduct?

Oribases.

Oh my beloved Emperor——!

Nevita.

Oribases, you must hide nothing from me.

Kytron.

[Drawing near.] Oh valiant general, if it be not indiscreet——

Nevita.

Presently, presently!

Oribases.

[To Nevita.] Do not fear, sir! No misfortune shall happen. Eutherius and I have promised each other to keep an eye upon him.

Nevita.

Ah, you do not mean to say that——?

Oribases.

Last night he had well nigh shortened his life. Fortunately Eutherius was at hand——; oh speak of it to no one!

437Nevita.

Do not lose sight of him.

Priscus.

[Drawing near.] It would greatly relieve our minds to hear what the council of war——?

Nevita.

Pardon me; I have weighty matters to attend to.

[He goes out behind the tent.

At the same moment Jovian enters from the opening.

Jovian.

[Speaking into the tent.] It shall be done, my gracious Emperor!

Kytron.

Ah, most excellent Jovian! Well? Is the retreat decided on?

Jovian.

I would not counsel any one to call it a retreat.

[He goes out behind the tent.

Kytron.

Oh these soldiers! A philosopher’s peace of mind is nothing to them. Ah!

[The Emperor Julian comes out of the tent; he is pale and haggard. With him come the Chamberlain Eutherius and several officers; the latter go off over the plain to the right.

Julian.

[To the philosophers.] Rejoice, my friends! All will soon be well now.

438Kytron.

Ah, gracious Emperor, have you discovered an expedient?

Julian.

There are expedients enough, Kytron; the only difficulty is to choose the best. We will slightly alter the line of advance——

Priscus.

Oh, praise be to your wisdom!

Julian.

This eastward march—it leads to nothing.

Kytron.

No, no, that is certain!

Julian.

Now we will turn northward, Kytron!

Kytron.

What, sire,—northward?

Priscus.

Not westward?

Julian.

Not westward. Not by any means westward. That might be difficult on account of the rivers. And Ctesiphon we must leave till another time. Without ships we cannot think of taking the city. It was the Galileans who brought about the burning of the fleet; I have noted one thing and another.

Who dares call this northward movement a retreat? 439What know you of my plans? The Persian army is somewhere in the north; of that we are now pretty well assured. When I have crushed Sapor—one battle will finish the matter—we shall find abundant supplies in the Persian camp.

When I lead the Persian king as my captive through Antioch and the other cities, I would fain see whether the citizens will not fall at my feet.

Christian Soldiers.

[Pass singing over the plain.

Doomed is the world’s proud cedar-tree,

The axe shall its roots dissever;

The palm He planted on Calvary,

Blood-watered, shall bloom for ever.

Julian.

[Following them with his eyes.] The Galileans are always singing. Songs about death and wounds and pain. Those women whom I brought with me to tend the sick—they have done us more harm than good. They have taught the soldiers strange songs, such as I have never heard before.

But hereafter I will punish no one for such things. It does but lead them deeper into error. Know you, Priscus, what happened of late, in the case of those mutineers who refused to show due reverence to the imperial busts?

Priscus.

Of late, sire?

Julian.

When, wishing to beget a wholesome dread in their companions in error, I ordered some of these men to be executed, the oldest of them stepped 440forward with loud cries of joy, and begged to be the first to die.—Look you, Priscus—when I heard that yesterday——

Priscus.

Yesterday? Oh, sire, you are mistaken. That happened forty days ago.

Julian.

So long? Yes, yes, yes! The Hebrews had to wander forty years in the wilderness. All the older generation had to die out. A new generation had to spring up; but they—mark that!—they entered into the promised land.

Eutherius.

’Tis late in the day, sire; will you not eat?

Julian.

Not yet, my Eutherius. ’Tis good for all men to mortify the flesh.

Yes, I tell you, we must make haste to become a new generation. I can do nothing with you as you are. If you would escape from the desert, you must lead a pure life. Look at the Galileans. We might learn more than one lesson from these men. There are none poverty-stricken and helpless among them; they live together as brethren and sisters,—and most of all now, when their obstinacy has forced me to chastise them. These Galileans, you must know, have something in their hearts which I could greatly desire that you should emulate. You call yourselves followers of Socrates, of Plato, of Diogenes. Is there one of you who would face death with ecstasy for Plato’s sake? Would our Priscus sacrifice his left hand for Socrates? Would 441Kytron, for Diogenes’ sake, let his ear be cut off? No, truly! I know you, whited sepulchres! Begone out of my sight;—I can do nothing with you!

[The philosophers slink away; the others also disperse, whispering anxiously. Only Oribases and Eutherius remain behind with the Emperor. Anatolus, the officer of the guard, still stands with his soldiers outside the tent.

Julian.

How strange! Is it not inconceivable, unfathomable? Oribases,—can you rede me this riddle?

Oribases.

What riddle do you mean, my Emperor?

Julian.

With twelve poor ignorant fishermen, he founded all this.

Oribases.

Oh sire, these thoughts exhaust you.

Julian.

And who has held it together until this day? Women and ignorant people, for the most part——

Oribases.

Yes, yes, sire; but now the campaign will soon take a happy turn——

Julian.

Very true, Oribases; as soon as fortune has taken a turn, all will be well. The dominion of 442the carpenter’s son is drawing to its close; we know that. His reign is to last as many years as the year has days; and now we have——

Eutherius.

My beloved master, would not a bath refresh you?

Julian.

Do you think so?—You may go, Eutherius! Go, go! I have something to say to Oribases.

[Eutherius goes off behind the tent. The Emperor draws Oribases over to the other side.

Julian.

Has Eutherius told you aught this morning?

Oribases.

No, sire!

Julian.

Has he told you nothing about last night——?

Oribases.

No, my Emperor—nothing at all. Eutherius is very silent.

Julian.

If he should tell you anything, do not believe it. The thing did not happen at all as he pretends. ’Tis he who is seeking my life.

Oribases.

He,—your old and faithful servant!

Julian.

I shall keep an eye on him.

443Oribases.

I too.

Julian.

We will both keep an eye on him.

Oribases.

Sire, I fear you had but little sleep last night.

Julian.

Very little.

[Oribases is on the point of saying something, but changes his mind.

Julian.

Know you what kept me from sleeping?

Oribases.

No, my Emperor.

Julian.

The victor of the Milvian Bridge was with me.

Oribases.

The great Constantine?

Julian.

Yes. For some nights past his shade has given me no rest. He comes a little after midnight, and does not depart until the dawn is at hand.

Oribases.

The moon is full, sire; that has always had a strange effect on your mind.

444Julian.

According to the ancients, such apparitions are wont——What can have become of Maximus? But their opinions are by no means to be relied on. We see how greatly they erred in many things. Even what they tell us of the gods we cannot believe without reserve. Nor what they report as to the shades, and the powers, as a whole, which rule the destinies of men. What know we of these powers? We know nothing, Oribases, except their capriciousness and inconstancy, of which characteristics we have evidence enough.

I wish Maximus would come——

[To himself.

Here? ’Tis not here that the menacing storm is drawing up. ’Twas said to be in the Phrygian regions——

Oribases.

What regions, sire,—and what storm?

Julian.

Oh nothing—nothing.

Nevita.

[Enters from the plain on the right.] My Emperor, the army is now on the march.

Julian.

Northwards?

Nevita.

[Starts.] Of course, sire!

Julian.

We ought to have waited till Maximus——

445Nevita.

What mean you, my Emperor? There is nothing to wait for. We are without supplies; scattered bands of the enemy’s horsemen are already appearing both in the east and in the south——