Just as Julian, leaving the Atrium of Constantine, was descending the
great flight of steps and proceeding to sacrifice in the direction of
the little Temple of Tyche, the goddess of happiness, near the palace,
the old bishop Maris, blind, white-haired, and bent double, approached
him, led by a child. A great crowd had gathered at the foot of the
staircase. With a solemn gesture, the bishop stopped the Emperor and
said to him--
"Listen, peoples, tribes, young and old, all that be upon the earth,
listen to me! And ye powers above, Angels, who will blot out soon this
martyr-maker! It is not the Amorite king who shall fall, nor Ogyges,
King of Thebes, but the Serpent, the Great Spirit, the revolted
Assyrian, the common enemy, who shall cause a multitude of threats and
violences upon earth! Hear, O heaven, and inspire the earth!... And
thou also, Cæsar, listen to my prophecy, for to-day, by my mouth, God
speaks!... Thy days are numbered! Soon wilt thou perish! Like dust
lifted by the tempest, like the hiss of an arrow, like the noise of
thunder, like the swiftness of light! The spring of Castaly shall be
dried up forever, and a mockery to us that pass by! Apollo shall
become again a worthless idol, Daphne a tree bewept in fable, and the
grass shall grow in your temples overturned. O! abominations of
Sennacherib! so we have foretold it. We Galileans--despised of the
earth--adorers of the Crucified--ignorant disciples of the fishermen
of Capernaum--we, weakened by long fasting, half-dead, who struggle in
vain, we nevertheless shall overcome you!... Unfold to me, Imperial
sophist, your speeches, your syllogisms, your antitheses; and we shall
see how, on our side, ignorant fishermen can speak!
"David shall chant again--David, who with his strange pebbles from the
brook slew Goliath. Thanks be to Thee, O Lord! the Church to-day is
purified by persecution! O pure virgins, kindle your torches, array
the bishop with a fair robe, for our ornament is the robe of Christ!"
The old man almost chanted the last words as in a liturgy, and the
crowd, with emotion, murmured approval. Someone cried out aloud--
"Amen!"
"Have you finished, old man?" asked Julian, calmly.
The Emperor had listened to the long speech imperturbably, as if it
had been addressed to someone else.
"Here are my hands, executioners ... bind them!... Lead me to
death!... Lord, I accept Thy crown!"
The bishop raised his faded eyes skyward.
"Do you imagine, brave man, that I shall send you to execution?" said
Julian. "You are mistaken. I shall bid you go in peace. In my heart
there is no anger whatever against you...."
"What is he saying?" the crowd asked each other.
"Tempt me not! I will not deny Christ. Hence, enemy of mankind!
Headsman, lead me to death!... I am ready...."
"There are no headsmen here, my friend; they are only simple good
folk, like yourself. Set your mind at rest. My existence is more
wearisome and ordinary than you imagine. I have heard you with
curiosity, for I admire eloquence, even when it is Galilean!... And
how much there was in it ... the abomination of Sennacherib, the king
of the Amorites, the stones of David and Goliath! The style of your
discourse can scarcely be called simple. Read our Demosthenes, Plato,
and particularly Homer. These were really simple in their words as
children, or gods. Yes, Galileans, learn the greatness of calm from
them!... God, remember, was not in the tempest but in the silence.
That is all my lesson. That is all my vengeance, since vengeance you
must have from me...."
"May God strike thee blind, renegade!" began Maris.
"God's wrath will not give thee back sight by striking me blind!"
answered Julian.
"I thank God for my blindness!" exclaimed the old man; "it does not
allow me to see your damned face, Apostate!"
"What spitefulness! in so frail a body! You are always speaking of
humility and love, Galileans; and yet what hate is in every one of
your words! I have just quitted an assemblage where the Fathers of the
Church were ready to fly at each other like wild beasts. And now comes
this unbridled speech of yours! Why this hatred? Am I not your
brother? Oh, if you knew at this moment how kindly my heart feels
towards you! May the Olympians soften your cruel and suffering soul,
poor blind man! Go in peace, and remember that the Galileans are not
the only men who can pardon!..."
"Believe him not, brethren!... It is a trick, a snare of the Serpent.
God of Israel, have no mercy!"
Paying no attention to the curses of the old man, Julian, in his white
tunic, made his way through the crowd with the haughty bearing of one
of the old sages.