JULIAN.
Nay, nay! Is not truth here, where Libanius is?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
[_Looking hard at him._] H’m!—Libanius? Libanius will soon be silent.
Libanius is weary of the strife, my lord!
JULIAN.
Weary? He—the invulnerable, the ever-victorious——?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
He is weary of waiting for his peer.
JULIAN.
Now you jest, stranger! Where can Libanius hope to find his peer?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
His peer exists.
JULIAN.
Who? Where? Name him?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
It might be dangerous.
JULIAN.
Why?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Are you not a courtier?
JULIAN.
And what then?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
[_In a lower voice._] Would you be foolhardy enough to praise the
Emperor’s successor?
JULIAN.
[_Deeply shaken._] Ah!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
[_Hastily._] If you betray me, I shall deny all!
JULIAN.
I betray no man; never fear, never fear!—The Emperor’s successor, you
say? I cannot tell whom you mean; the Emperor has chosen no
successor.—But why this jesting? Why did you speak of Libanius’s peer?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Yes or no—is there at the imperial court a youth who, by force and
strict commandment, by prayers and persuasions, is held aloof from the
light of the lecture-halls?
JULIAN.
[_Hastily._] That is done to keep his faith pure.
THE PHILOSOPHER.
[_Smiling._] Has this young man so scant faith in his faith? What can he
know about his faith? What does a soldier know of his shield until he
has proved it in battle?
JULIAN.
True, true;—but they are loving kinsmen and teachers, I tell you——
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Phrases, my lord! Let me tell you this: it is for the Emperor’s sake
that his young kinsman is held aloof from the philosophers. The Emperor
has not the divine gift of eloquence. Doubtless the Emperor is great;
but he cannot endure that his successor should shine forth over the
empire——
JULIAN.
[_In confusion._] And you dare to——!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Ay, ay, you are wroth on your master’s account, but——
JULIAN.
Far from it; on the contrary—that is to say——
Listen; my place is somewhat near that young prince. I would gladly
learn——
[_Turns._]
Go apart, Agathon; I must speak alone with this man.
[_Withdraws a few steps along with the stranger._
You said “shine forth”? “Shine forth over the empire?” What do you know,
what can any of you know, of Prince Julian?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Can Sirius be hidden by a cloud? Will not the restless wind tear a rift
in it here or there, so that——
JULIAN.
Speak plainly, I beg you.
THE PHILOSOPHER.
The palace and the church are as a double cage wherein the prince is
mewed up. But the cage is not close enough. Now and then he lets fall an
enigmatic word; the court vermin—forgive me, sir—the courtiers spread it
abroad in scorn; its deep meaning does not exist for these
gentlefolk—your pardon, sir—for most of them it does not exist.
JULIAN.
For none. You may safely say for none.
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Yet surely for you; and at any rate for us.——
Yes, he could indeed shine forth over the empire! Are there not legends
of his childhood in Cappadocia, when, in disputation with his brother
Gallus, he took the part of the gods, and defended them against the
Galilean?
JULIAN.
That was in jest, mere practice in rhetoric——
THE PHILOSOPHER.
What has not Mardonius recorded of him? And afterwards Hekebolius! What
art was there not even in his boyish utterances—what beauty, what grace
in the light play of his thoughts!
JULIAN.
You think so?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Yes, in him we might indeed find an adversary to fear and yet to long
for. What should hinder him from reaching so honourable an eminence? He
lacks nothing but to pass through the same school through which Paul
passed, and passed so unscathed that, when he afterwards joined the
Galileans, he shed more light than all the other apostles together,
because he possessed knowledge and eloquence! Hekebolius fears for his
pupil’s faith. Oh, I know it well; the fear is his. Does he forget then,
in his exceeding tenderness of conscience, that he himself, in his
youth, has drunk of those very springs from which he would now have his
pupil debarred? Or think you it was not from us that he learned to use
the weapons of speech which he now wields against us with such renowned
dexterity?
JULIAN.
True, true; undeniably true!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
And what gifts has this Hekebolius in comparison with the gifts which
declared themselves so marvellously in that princely boy, who, it is
said, in Cappadocia, upon the graves of the slain Galileans, proclaimed
a doctrine which I hold to be erroneous, and by so much the more
difficult to instil, but which he nevertheless proclaimed with such
fervour of spirit that—if I may believe a very widespread rumour—a
multitude of children of his own age were carried away by him, and
followed him as his disciples! Ah, Hekebolius is like the rest of
you—more jealous than zealous; that is why Libanius has waited in vain.
JULIAN.
[_Seizes him by the arm._] What has Libanius said? Tell me, I conjure
you, in the name of God?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
He has said all that you have just heard. And he has said still more. He
has said: “Behold yon princely Galilean; he is an Achilles of the
spirit.”
JULIAN.
Achilles! [_Softly._] My mother’s dream!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
There, in the open lecture-halls, lies the field of battle. Light and
gladness encompass the fighters and the fray. Javelins of speech hurtle
through the air; keen swords of wit clash in the combat; the blessed
gods sit smiling in the clouds——
JULIAN.
Oh, away from me with your heathendom——
THE PHILOSOPHER.
——and the heroes go home to their tents, their arms entwined, their
hearts untouched by rancour, their cheeks aglow, the blood coursing
swiftly through every vein, admired, applauded, and with laurels on
their brows. Ah, where is Achilles? I cannot see him. Achilles is
wroth——
JULIAN.
Achilles is unhappy!—But can I believe it? Oh, tell me—my brain is
dizzy—has Libanius said all this?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
What brought Libanius to Constantinople? Had he any other end than to
achieve the illustrious friendship of a certain youth?
JULIAN.
Speak the truth! No, no; this cannot be true. How reconcile it with the
scoffs and jibes that——? Who scoffs at one whose friendship he would
seek?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Wiles of the Galileans to build up a wall of wrath and hate between the
two champions.
JULIAN.
Yet you will not deny that it was Libanius——?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
I will deny everything to the uttermost.
JULIAN.
The lampoons were not his?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Not one of them. They have all been hatched in the palace, and spread
abroad under his name——
JULIAN.
Ah, what do you tell me——?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
What I will avouch before all the world. You have a sharp tongue—who
knows but that you yourself——
JULIAN.
I——! But can I believe this? Libanius did not write them? Not one of
them?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
No, no!
JULIAN.
Not even those infamous lines about Atlas with the crooked shoulders?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
No, no, I tell you.
JULIAN.
Nor that foolish and ribald verse about the ape in court dress?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Ha, ha; that came from the church, not from the lecture-hall. You
disbelieve it? I tell you it was Hekebolius——
JULIAN.
Hekebolius!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Yes, Hekebolius, Hekebolius himself, to breed hatred between his enemy
and his pupil——
JULIAN.
[_Clenching his fists._] Ah, if it were so!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
If that blinded and deceived young man had known us philosophers, he
would not have dealt so hardly with us.
JULIAN.
Of what are you speaking?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
It is too late now. Farewell, my lord!
[_Going._
JULIAN.
[_Seizes his hand._] Friend and brother, who are you?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
One who sorrows to see the God-born go to ruin.
JULIAN.
What do you call the God-born?
THE PHILOSOPHER.
The Uncreated in the Ever-changing.
JULIAN.
Still I am in the dark.
THE PHILOSOPHER.
There is a whole glorious world to which you Galileans are blind. In it
our life is one long festival, amid statues and choral songs, foaming
goblets in our hands, and our locks entwined with roses. Airy bridges
span the gulfs between spirit and spirit, stretching away to the
farthest orbs in space——
I know one who might be king of all that vast and sunlit realm.
JULIAN.
[_In dread._] Ay, at the cost of his salvation!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
What is salvation? Reunion with the primal deeps.
JULIAN.
Yes, in conscious life. Reunion for me, as the being I am!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Reunion like that of the raindrop with the sea, like that of the
crumbling leaf with the earth that bore it.
JULIAN.
Oh, had I but learning! Had I but the weapons to use against you!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Take to yourself weapons, young man! The lecture-hall is the armoury of
intellect and talent——
JULIAN.
[_Recoiling._] Ah!
THE PHILOSOPHER.
Look at those joyous youths yonder. There are Galileans among them.
Errors in things divine cause no discord among us.
Farewell! You Galileans have sent truth into exile. See, now, how we
bear the buffets of fate. See, we hold high our wreath-crowned heads. So
we depart—shortening the night with song, and awaiting Helios.
[_He descends the steps where his disciples have waited for him;
then the boat is heard rowing away with them._
JULIAN.
[_Gazes long over the water._] Who was he, that mysterious man?
AGATHON.
[_Approaching._] Listen to me, Julian——?
JULIAN.
[_In lively excitement._] He understood me! And Libanius himself, the
great, incomparable Libanius——! Only think, Agathon, Libanius has said——
Oh, how keen must the heathen eye not be!
AGATHON.
Trust me, this meeting was a work of the Tempter!
JULIAN.
[_Not heeding him._] I can no longer endure to live among these people.
It was they, then, who wrote those abominable lampoons! They make a
mockery of me here; they laugh behind my back; not one of them believes
in the power that dwells in me. They ape my gait; they distort my
manners and my speech; Hekebolius himself——! Oh, I feel it—Christ is
deserting me; I grow evil here.
AGATHON.
Oh, though you know it not—you, even you, stand under special grace.
JULIAN.
[_Walks up and down beside the balustrade._] _I_ am he with whom
Libanius longs to measure swords. How strange a wish! Libanius accounts
_me_ his peer. It is _me_ he awaits——
AGATHON.
Hear and obey: Christ awaits you!
JULIAN.
What mean you, friend?
AGATHON.
The vision that sent me to Constantinople——
JULIAN.
Yes, yes, the vision; I had almost forgotten it. A revelation, you said?
Oh, speak, speak!
AGATHON.
It was at home in Cappadocia, a month ago or a little more. There went a
rumour abroad that the heathens had again begun to hold secret meetings
by night in the temple of Cybele——
JULIAN.
How foolhardy! Are they not strictly forbidden——
AGATHON.
Therefore all we believers arose in wrath. The magistrates ordered the
temple to be pulled down, and we broke in pieces the abominable idols.
The more zealous among us were impelled by the Spirit of the Lord to go
still further. With singing of psalms, and with sacred banners at our
head, we marched through the town and fell upon the godless like
messengers of wrath; we took from them their treasures; many houses were
set on fire, and heathens not a few perished in the flames; still more
we slew in the streets as they fled. Oh, it was a marvellous time for
the glory of God!
JULIAN.
And then? The vision, my Agathon!
AGATHON.
For three whole nights and days the Lord of Vengeance was strong in us.
But at last the weak flesh could no longer keep pace with the willing
spirit, and we desisted from the pursuit——
I lay upon my bed; I could neither wake nor sleep. I felt, as it were,
an inward hollowness, as though the spirit had departed out of me. I lay
in burning heat; I tore my hair, I wept, I prayed, I sang;—I cannot tell
what came over me——
Then, on a sudden, I saw before me by the wall a white and shining
light, and in the radiance stood a man in a long cloak. A glory
encircled his head; he held a reed in his hand, and fixed his gaze
mildly upon me.
JULIAN.
You saw that!
AGATHON.
I saw it. And then he spoke and said: “Agathon; arise, seek him out who
shall inherit the empire; bid him enter the lion’s den and do battle
with the lions.”
JULIAN.
Do battle with the lions! Oh, strange, strange!—Ah, if it were——! The
meeting with that philosopher—A revelation; a message to me—; am _I_ the
chosen one?
AGATHON.
Assuredly you are!
JULIAN.
Do battle with the lions!—Yes, I see it;—so it must be, my Agathon! It
is God’s will that I should seek out Libanius——
AGATHON.
No, no; hear me out!
JULIAN.
——worm from him all his arts and his learning—smite the unbelievers with
their own weapons—fight, fight like Paul—conquer like Paul, in the cause
of the Lord!
AGATHON.
No, no! that was not the intent.
JULIAN.
Can you doubt it? Libanius—is he not strong as the mountain lion, and is
not the lecture-hall——?
AGATHON.
I tell you it is not so; for the vision added: “Proclaim to the chosen
one that he shall shake the dust of the imperial city from his feet, and
never more enter its gates.”
JULIAN.
Are you sure of that, Agathon?
AGATHON.
Absolutely sure.
JULIAN.
Not here, then! Do battle with, the lions? Where, where? Oh, where shall
I find light?
_PRINCE GALLUS, a handsome, strongly-built man of
five-and-twenty, with light curly hair, and fully armed,
enters by the avenue on the left._
JULIAN.
[_Rushing up to him._] Gallus!
GALLUS.
What now? [_Points to AGATHON._] Who is that man?
JULIAN.
Agathon.
GALLUS.
What Agathon? You have so many strange companions——Ah, by heaven, it is
the Cappadocian! You have grown quite a man——
JULIAN.
Do you know, Gallus—the Emperor has asked for you.
GALLUS.
[_Anxiously._] Just now? To-night?
JULIAN.
Yes, yes; he wanted to speak with you. He seemed greatly angered.
GALLUS.
How know you that? What did he say?
JULIAN.
I did not understand it. He asked what some oracle had answered.
GALLUS.
Ah!
JULIAN.
Hide nothing from me. What is the matter?
GALLUS.
Death or banishment is the matter.
AGATHON.
Gracious Saviour!
JULIAN.
I feared as much! But no, the Empress spoke hopefully. Oh, say on, say
on!
GALLUS.
What shall I say? How should I know more than you? If the Emperor spoke
of an oracle, a certain messenger must have been intercepted, or some
one must have betrayed me——
JULIAN.
A messenger?—Gallus, what have you dared to do?
GALLUS.
How could I live any longer this life of doubt and dread? Let him do
with me as he pleases; anything is better than this——
JULIAN.
[_Softly, leading him some paces aside._] Have a care, Gallus! What is
this about a messenger?
GALLUS.
I have addressed a question to the priests of Osiris in Abydus——
JULIAN.
Ah, the oracle! The heathen oracle——!
GALLUS.
The heathenism might be forgiven me; but—well, why should you not know
it?—I have inquired as to the issue of the Persian war——
JULIAN.
What madness!—Gallus—I see it in your face: you have asked other
questions!
GALLUS.
No more; I have not asked——
JULIAN.
Yes, yes; you have inquired as to a mighty man’s life or death!
GALLUS.
And if I had? What can be of more moment to both of us?
JULIAN.
[_Throwing his arms around him._] Be silent, madman!
GALLUS.
Away from me! You may cringe before him like a cur; but I have no mind
to endure it longer. I will cry it aloud in all the market-places——
[_Calls to_ AGATHON.] Have you seen him, Cappadocian? Have you seen the
murderer?
JULIAN.
Gallus! Brother!
AGATHON.
The murderer!
GALLUS.
The murderer in the purple robe; my father’s murderer, my step-mother’s,
my eldest brother’s——
JULIAN.
Oh, you are calling down destruction upon us!
GALLUS.
Eleven heads in one single night; eleven bodies; our whole house.—Ah,
but be sure conscience is torturing him; it shivers through the marrow
of his bones like a swarm of serpents.
JULIAN.
Do not listen to him! Away, away!
GALLUS.
[_Seizes JULIAN by the shoulder._] Stay;—you look pale and disordered;
is it you that have betrayed me?
JULIAN.
I! Your own brother——!
GALLUS.
What matter for that! Brotherhood protects no one in our family. Confess
that you have secretly spied upon my doings! Who else should it be?
Think you I do not know what people are whispering? The Emperor designs
to make you his successor.
JULIAN.
Never! I swear to you, my beloved Gallus, it shall never be! I will not.
One mightier than he has chosen me.—Oh, trust me, Gallus: my path is
marked out for me. I will not go thither, I tell you. Oh, God of Hosts—I
on the imperial throne! No, no, no!
GALLUS.
Ha-ha; well acted, mummer!
JULIAN.
Ay, you may scoff, since you know not what has happened. Myself, I
scarcely know. Oh, Agathon—if this head were to be anointed! Would it
not be an apostasy—a deadly sin? Would not the Lord’s holy oil burn me
like molten lead?
GALLUS.
Were that so, then were our august kinsman balder than Julius Caesar.
JULIAN.
Beware how you speak! Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s——
GALLUS.
My father’s blood——your father’s and your mother’s——!
JULIAN.
Oh, what know we of those horrors? We were children then. The soldiers
were chiefly to blame; it was the rebels—evil counsellors——
GALLUS.
[_Laughing._] The Emperor’s successor rehearses his part!
JULIAN.
[_Weeping._] Oh, Gallus, would I might die or be banished in your stead!
I am wrecking my soul here. I ought to forgive—and I cannot. Evil grows
in me; hate and revenge whisper in my ear——
GALLUS.
[_Rapidly, looking towards the church._] There he comes!
JULIAN.
Be prudent, my beloved brother!—Ah, Hekebolius!
_The church door has meanwhile been opened. The congregation streams
forth; some pass away, others remain standing to see the Court
pass. Among those who come out is HEKEBOLIUS; he wears priestly
dress._
HEKEBOLIUS.
[_On the point of passing out to the left._] Is that you, my Julian? Ah,
I have again passed a heavy hour for your sake.
JULIAN.
Alas! I fear that happens too often.
HEKEBOLIUS.
Christ is wroth against you, my son! It is your froward spirit that
angers him; it is your unloving thoughts, and all this worldly vanity——
JULIAN.
I know it, my Hekebolius! You so often tell me so.
HEKEBOLIUS.
Even now I lifted up my soul in prayer for your amendment. Oh, it seemed
as though our otherwise so gracious Saviour repulsed my prayer,—as
though he would not listen to me; he suffered my thoughts to wander upon
trifling things.
JULIAN.
You prayed for me? Oh, loving Hekebolius, you pray even for us dumb
animals—at least when we wear court dress?
HEKEBOLIUS.
What mean you, my son?
JULIAN.
Hekebolius, how could you write those shameful verses?
HEKEBOLIUS.
I? I swear by all that is high and holy——
JULIAN.
I see in your eyes that you are lying! I have full assurance that you
wrote them. How could you do it, I ask—and under the name of Libanius,
too?
HEKEBOLIUS.
Well, well, my dearly beloved, since you know it, I——
JULIAN.
Ah, Hekebolius! Deceit, and lies, and treachery——
HEKEBOLIUS.
Behold, my precious friend, how deep is my love for you! I dare all to
save the soul of that man who shall one day be the Lord’s anointed. If,
in my zeal for you, I have had recourse to deceit and lies, I know that
a gracious God has found my course well pleasing in his sight, and has
stretched forth his hand to sanction it.
JULIAN.
How blind have I been! Let me press these perjured fingers——
HEKEBOLIUS.
The Emperor!
[_The EMPEROR CONSTANTIUS, with his whole retinue, comes from
the church. AGATHON has already, during the foregoing,
withdrawn among the bushes on the right._
THE EMPEROR.
Oh, blessed peace of heaven in my heart.
THE EMPRESS.
Do you feel yourself strengthened, my Constantius?
THE EMPEROR.
Yes, yes! I saw the living Dove hovering over me. It took away the
burden of all my sin.—Now I dare venture much, Memnon!
MEMNON.
[_Softly._] Lose not a moment, sire!
THE EMPEROR.
There they both stand.
[_He goes towards the brothers._
GALLUS.
[_Mechanically feels for his sword, and cries in terror._] Do me no ill!
THE EMPEROR.
[_With outstretched arms._] Gallus! Kinsman!
[_He embraces and kisses him._]
Lo, in the light of the Easter stars, I choose the man who lies nearest
my heart.—Bow all to the earth. Hail Gallus Caesar![9]
[_General astonishment among the Court; a few involuntary shouts
are raised._
THE EMPRESS.
[_With a shriek._] Constantius!
GALLUS.
[_Amazed._] Caesar!
JULIAN.
Ah!
[_He tries to seize the EMPEROR’S hands, as if in joy._
THE EMPEROR.
[_Waving him aside._] Away from me! What would you? Is not Gallus the
elder? What hopes have you been cherishing? What rumours have you, in
your blind presumption——? Away; away!
GALLUS.
I—I Caesar!
THE EMPEROR.
My heir and my successor. In three days you will set out for the army in
Asia. I know the Persian war is much on your mind——
GALLUS.
Oh, my most gracious sire——!
THE EMPEROR.
Thank me in deeds, my beloved Gallus! King Sapor lies west of the
Euphrates. I know how solicitous you are for my life; be it your task,
then, to crush him.
[_He turns, takes JULIAN’S head between his hands, and kisses
him._
And you, Julian, my pious friend and brother—so it needs must be.
JULIAN.
All blessings on the Emperor’s will!
THE EMPEROR.
Call down no blessings! Yet listen—I have thought of you too. Know,
Julian, that now you can breathe freely in Constantinople——
JULIAN.
Yes, praise be to Christ and the Emperor!
THE EMPEROR.
You know it already? Who has told you?
JULIAN.
What, sire?
THE EMPEROR.
That Libanius is banished?
JULIAN.
Libanius—banished!
THE EMPEROR.
I have banished him to Athens.
JULIAN.
Ah!
THE EMPEROR.
Yonder lies his ship; he sails to-night.
JULIAN.
[_Aside._] He himself; he himself!
THE EMPEROR.
You have long wished it. I have not hitherto been able to fulfil your
desire; but now——; let this be a slight requital to you, my Julian——
JULIAN.
[_Quickly seizing his hand._] Sire, do me one grace more.
THE EMPEROR.
Ask what you will.
JULIAN.
Let me go to Pergamus. You know the old Aedesius teaches there——
THE EMPEROR.
A very strange wish. You, among the heathens——?
JULIAN.
Aedesius is not dangerous; he is a high-minded old man, drawing towards
the grave——
THE EMPEROR.
And what would you with him, brother?
JULIAN.
I would learn to do battle with the lions.
THE EMPEROR.
I understand your pious thought. And you are not afraid——; you think
yourself strong enough——?
JULIAN.
The Lord God has called me with a loud voice. Like Daniel, I go fearless
and joyful into the lions’ den.
THE EMPEROR.
Julian!
JULIAN.
To-night, without knowing it, you have yourself been his instrument. Oh,
let me go forth to purge the world!
GALLUS.
[_Softly to the EMPEROR._] Humour him, sire; it will prevent his
brooding on higher things.
THE EMPRESS.
I implore you, Constantius—set no bar to this vehement longing.
HEKEBOLIUS.
Great Emperor, let him go to Pergamus. I fear I am losing hold of him
here, and now ’tis no longer of such moment.
THE EMPEROR.
How could I deny you anything in such an hour? Go with God, Julian!
JULIAN.
[_Kissing his hands._] Oh, thanks—thanks!
THE EMPEROR.
And now to a banquet of rejoicing! My Capuan cook has invented some new
fast-dishes, carp-necks in Chios wine, and—— Forward;—your place is next
to me, Gallus Caesar!
[_The procession begins to advance._]
GALLUS.
[_Softly._] Helena, what a marvellous change of fortune!
HELENA.
Oh, Gallus, dawn is breaking over our hopes.
GALLUS.
I can scarce believe it! Who has brought it about?
HELENA.
Hush!
GALLUS.
You, my beloved? Or who—who?
HELENA.
Memnon’s Spartan dog.
GALLUS.
What do you mean?
HELENA.
Memnon’s dog. Julian kicked it; this is Memnon’s revenge.
THE EMPEROR.
Why so silent, Eusebia?
THE EMPRESS.
[_Softly, in tears._] Oh, Constantius—how could you make such a choice!
THE EMPEROR.
Eleven ghosts demanded it.
THE EMPRESS.
Woe upon us; this will not appease the ghosts.
THE EMPEROR.
[_Calls loudly._] Flute-players! Why are the rascals silent? Play, play!
[_All, except PRINCE JULIAN, go out to the left. AGATHON comes
forward among the trees._
JULIAN.
Gallus his successor; and I—free, free, free!
AGATHON.
Marvellously are the counsels of the Lord revealed.
JULIAN.
Heard you what passed?
AGATHON.
Yes, everything.
JULIAN.
And to-morrow, my Agathon, to-morrow to Athens!
AGATHON.
To Athens? ’Tis to Pergamus you go.
JULIAN.
Hush! You do not know——; we must be cunning as serpents. First to
Pergamus—and then to Athens!
AGATHON.
Farewell, my lord and friend!
JULIAN.