Chapter IX: Part 9

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 divided 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 not 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——!

MAXIMUS.

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.

He 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!

BASIL.

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!

THE 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.

THE 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._

JULIAN.

[_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.

JULIAN.

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.

JULIAN.

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 so. 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——!

MAKRINA.

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.

What 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!

BASIL.

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._

MAKRINA.

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.

JOVIAN.

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.

JULIAN.

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! Not expedient to——?

KYTRON.

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._

EUTHERIUS.

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.

JULIAN.

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 so 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 into 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!

JOVIAN.

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?

THE 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.

JULIAN.

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——

JULIAN.

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?

JULIAN.

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!

JULIAN.

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——

JULIAN.

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.

JULIAN.

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!

MAXIMUS.

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——?

MAXIMUS.

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!

NEVITA.

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.

The 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 spirit 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.

FROMENTINUS.

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.

JULIAN.

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!

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!

JULIAN.

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——

JULIAN.

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?

CRIES 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.

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?

ANATOLUS.

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?

KYTRON.

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?

ANATOLUS.

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._

NEVITA.

[_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!

NEVITA.

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.

KYTRON.

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? What 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 forward 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 Kytron, 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 the 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.

ORIBASES.

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.

JULIAN.

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——

NEVITA.

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——

JULIAN.