MEDON, _a corn-dealer_.
MALCHUS, _a tax-gatherer_.
GREGORY OF NAZIANZUS, _Caesarius’s brother_.
PHOCION, _a dyer_.
PUBLIA, _a woman of Antioch_.
HILARION, _son of Publia_.
AGATHON OF CAPPADOCIA.
MARIS, _Bishop of Chalcedon_.
_People taking part in the procession of Apollo, priests,
servants of the temple, harp-players and watchmen of the
city._
_Agathon’s younger brother._
_A procession of Christian prisoners._
HERACLIUS, _a poet_.
ORIBASES, _court physician_.
LIBANIUS, _an orator, and chief magistrate of Antioch_.
APOLLINARIS, _a hymn-writer_.
CYRILLUS, _a teacher_.
_An old priest of Cybele._
_Psalm-singers of Antioch._
FROMENTINUS, _a captain_.
JOVIAN, _a general_.
MAXIMUS THE MYSTIC.
NUMA, _a soothsayer_.
_Two other Etruscan soothsayers._
PRINCE HORMISDAS, _a Persian exile_.
ANATOLUS, _captain of the lifeguard_.
PRISCUS, _a philosopher_.
KYTRON, _a philosopher_.
AMMIAN, _a captain_.
BASIL OF CAESAREA.
MAKRINA, _his sister_.
_A Persian deserter._
_Roman and Greek soldiers._
_Persian warriors._
_The first act passes in Constantinople, the second and third in
Antioch, the fourth in and about the eastern territories of the empire,
and the fifth on the plains beyond the Tigris. The events take place in
the interval between December, A.D. 361, and the end of June, A.D. 363._
THE EMPEROR JULIAN.
PLAY IN FIVE ACTS.
ACT FIRST.
SCENE FIRST.
_The port of Constantinople. In the foreground to the right, a
richly-decorated landing-stage, spread with carpets. On the
elevated quay, at a little distance from the landing-stage, is
seen a veiled stone, surrounded by a guard. Far out on the
Bosphorus lies the imperial fleet, hung with flags of mourning._
_A countless multitude, in boats and on the beach. Near the end of the
landing-stage stands the EMPEROR JULIAN, robed in purple and
decked with golden ornaments. He is surrounded by COURTIERS and
HIGH OFFICERS OF STATE. Among those standing nearest to him are
NEVITA, the commander of the forces, and the court physician,
CAESARIUS, together with the orators, THEMISTIUS and MAMERTINUS._
JULIAN.
[_Looking out over the water._] What a meeting! The dead Emperor and the
living.—Alas that he should have drawn his last breath in such distant
regions! Alas that, in spite of all my haste, I should not have had the
sweet consolation of embracing my kinsman for the last time! A bitter
lot for both of us!—
Where is the ship with the body?
NEVITA.
There it comes.
JULIAN.
That long boat?
NEVITA.
Yes, most gracious Emperor.
JULIAN.
My poor kinsman! So great in life; and now to have to content you with
so low a roof! Now you will not strike your forehead against the
coffin-lid, you who bowed your head in riding through the Arch of
Constantine.
A CITIZEN AMONG THE SPECTATORS.
[_To the Goldsmith POTAMON._] How young he looks, our new Emperor!
POTAMON.
But he has grown more stalwart. When I last saw him he was a lean
stripling; that is now nine or ten years ago.
ANOTHER CITIZEN.
Ay, he has done great things in those years.
A WOMAN.
And all the dangers he has passed through, ever since his childhood!
A PRIEST.
Marvellously has he been shielded from them all; the hand of heaven is
over him.
POTAMON.
Rumour says that in Gaul he placed himself in very different hands.
THE PRIEST.
Lies, lies; you may depend upon it.
JULIAN.
Now he comes. The Sun, whom I invoke, and the great thunder-wielding
God, know that I never desired Constantius’s death. That was far indeed
from being my wish. I have offered up prayers for his life.—Tell me,
Caesarius,—you must know best,—have they shown all due honour, on the
journey, to the imperial corpse?
CAESARIUS.
The funeral procession was like a conqueror’s triumph through the whole
of Asia Minor. In every town we traversed, believers thronged the
streets; through whole nights the churches echoed with prayers and
hymns; thousands of burning tapers transformed the darkness into high
noon——
JULIAN.
Good, good, good!—I am seized with an unspeakable misgiving at the
thought of taking the helm of state after so great and virtuous and
well-beloved an Emperor. Why was it not my lot to live in peaceful
retirement?
MAMERTINUS.
And who could have sufficed to this high and difficult calling so
completely as you, incomparable lord? I call fearlessly to all those
others who have aspired to the empire: Come, then, and take the helm of
government; but take it as Julian takes it. Be on the alert night and
day for the common welfare. Be masters in name, and yet servants to
civic freedom. Choose the foremost places in battle, and not at the
feasts. Take nothing for yourselves, but lavish gifts upon all. Let your
justice be equally remote from laxity and from inhumanity. Live so that
no virgin on earth shall wring her hands because of you. Bid
defiance—both to impenetrable Gaul, and inhospitable Germany. What would
they answer? Appalled by such stern conditions, they would stop their
effeminate ears, and cry: “Only a Julian is equal to such a task!”
JULIAN.
The Omnipotent grant that such high hopes may not be disappointed. But
how great are my shortcomings! A shudder comes over me. To affront
comparison with Alexander, Marcus Aurelius, and so many other
illustrious princes! Has not Plato said that only a god can rule over
men? Oh pray with me that I may escape the snares of ambition, and the
temptations of power. Athens, Athens! Thither my longings turn! I was as
a man taking reasonable exercise for the sake of his health;—and now,
they come and say to me, “Go forth into the arena, and conquer in the
Olympian games. The eyes of all Greece are upon you!” May I not well be
panic-stricken even before the contest begins?
THEMISTIUS.
Panic-stricken, oh Emperor? Have you not already the applause of Greece?
Are you not come to reinstate all exiled virtues in their ancient
rights? Do we not find concentred in you all the victorious genius of
Herakles, of Dionysus, of Solon, of——
JULIAN.
Hush! Only the praise of the dead shall be heard to-day. The boat has
reached the wharf. Take my crown and my chains; I will not wear the
insignia of empire at such a time as this.
[_He hands the ornaments to one of the bystanders. The funeral
procession advances along the landing-stage, with great
pomp. Priests with lighted candles walk at its head; the
coffin is drawn on a low-wheeled carriage; church banners
are borne before and after the carriage; choristers swing
censers; crowds of Christian citizens follow after._
JULIAN.
[_Laying his hand on the coffin, and sighing audibly._] Ah!
A SPECTATOR.
Did he cross himself?
ANOTHER IN THE CROWD.
No.
THE FIRST.
You see; you see!
A THIRD SPECTATOR.
And he did not bow before the sacred image.
THE FIRST.
[_To the second._] You see! What did I tell you?
JULIAN.
Pass onward to thy home, amid pomp and honour, soulless body of my
kinsman! I make not this dust answerable for the wrongs thy spirit did
me. What do I say? Was it thy spirit that dealt so hardly with my house,
that I alone am left? Was it thy spirit that caused my childhood to be
darkened with a thousand terrors? Was it thy spirit that bade fall that
noble Caesar’s head? Was it thou who didst allot to me, an untried
stripling, so difficult a post in inhospitable Gaul, and afterwards,
when disaffection and mischance had failed to crush me, didst seek to
rob me of the honour of my victories? Oh Constantius, my kinsman,—not
from thy great heart did all this spring. Wherefore didst thou writhe in
remorse and anguish; why didst thou see gory shades around thee, on thy
last bed of pain? Evil councillors embittered thy life and thy death. I
know them, these councillors; they were men who took hurt from living in
the ceaseless sunshine of thy favour. I know them, these men, who so
obsequiously clothed themselves in that garb of faith, which was most in
favour at court.
HEATHEN CITIZENS.
[_Among the spectators._] Long live the Emperor Julian!
CAESARIUS.
Most gracious lord, the procession waits——
JULIAN.
[_To the priests._] Stay not your pious hymns on my account. Forward, my
friends!
[_The procession passes slowly out to the left._
Follow whoso will, and remain whoso will. But this you shall all know
to-day, that my place is here.
[_Uneasiness and movement in the crowd._
What am I? The Emperor. But in saying that, have I said all? Is there
not one imperial office, which seems to have been shamefully wiped out
of remembrance in these later years? What was that crowned philosopher,
Marcus Aurelius? Emperor? Only Emperor? I could almost ask: was he not
something more than Emperor? Was he not also the Supreme Pontiff?
VOICES IN THE CROWD.
What says the Emperor? What was that? What did he say?
THEMISTIUS.
Oh sire, is it indeed your purpose——?
JULIAN.
Not even my uncle Constantine the Great dared to renounce this dignity.
Even after he had conceded to a certain new doctrine such very
extraordinary privileges, he was still called the Chief Priest by all
who held fast to the ancient divinities of the Grecian race. I will not
here enlarge upon the melancholy disuse into which this office has
fallen of late years, but will merely remark that none of my exalted
predecessors, not even he to whom, with tear-stained faces, we to-day
bid our last farewell, has dared to reject it. Should I presume to take
any step which so wise and just emperors did not deem right or
expedient? Far be it from me!
THEMISTIUS.
Oh great Emperor, mean you by this——?
JULIAN.
I mean by this, that there shall be perfect freedom for all citizens.
Cling to the Christians’ God, you who find it conduce to your souls’
repose. As for me, I dare not build my hopes on a god who has hitherto
been my foe in all my undertakings. I know by infallible signs and
tokens that the victories I won on the Gallic frontier I owe to those
other divinities who favoured Alexander in a somewhat similar way. Under
watch and ward of these divinities, I passed unscathed through all
dangers; and, in especial, it was they who furthered my journey hither
with such marvellous speed and success that, as I gathered from cries in
the streets, some people have come to look upon me as a divine
being,—which is a great exaggeration, my friends! But certain it is,
that I dare not show myself ungrateful for such untiring proofs of
favour.
VOICES IN THE CROWD.
[_Subdued._] What is he going to do?
JULIAN.
Therefore, I restore to their pristine rights the venerable Gods of our
forefathers. But no injury shall be done to the God of the Galileans,
nor to the God of the Jews. The temples, which pious rulers of old
erected with such admirable art, shall rise again in rejuvenated
splendour, with altars and statues, each for its especial God, so that
seemly worship may once more be offered them. But I will by no means
tolerate any vengeful assaults upon the churches of the Christians;
neither shall their graveyards be molested, nor any other places which a
strange delusion leads them to regard as sacred. We will bear with the
errors of others; I myself have laboured under illusions;—but over that
I cast a veil. What I have thought upon things divine since my
one-and-twentieth year, I will not now dwell upon; I will only say that
I congratulate those who follow my example,—that I smile at those who
will not tread in my footsteps,—that I will doubtless try to persuade,
but will not coerce any one.
[_He stops a moment expectantly; feeble applause is heard here
and there among the crowd. He continues with more warmth._
I had reckoned, not unreasonably, on grateful acclamations, where I find
only wondering curiosity. Yet I ought to have known it;—there reigns a
deplorable indifference among those who profess to hold fast to our
ancient faith. Oppression and mockery have caused us to forget the
venerable rites of our forefathers. I have inquired high and low, but
scarcely a single person have I found who could speak with authority as
to the ceremonies to be observed in sacrificing to Apollo or Fortuna. I
must take the lead in this, as in other matters. It has cost me many
sleepless nights to search out in the ancient records what tradition
prescribes in such cases; but I do not complain when I remember how much
we owe to these very divinities; nor am I ashamed to do everything with
my own hands—— Whither away, Caesarius?
CAESARIUS.
To the church, most gracious Emperor; I would pray for the soul of my
departed master.
JULIAN.
Go, go! In these matters every one is free.
[_CAESARIUS, with several of the older courtiers and officers of
state, goes out to the left._
But the freedom I concede to the meanest citizen, I claim for myself as
well.——Be it known, therefore, to you all, Greeks and Romans, that I
return with my whole heart to the beliefs and rites which our
forefathers held sacred,—that they may be freely propagated and
exercised, no less than all new and foreign opinions;—and as I am a son
of this city, and therefore hold it pre-eminently dear, this I proclaim
in the name of its guardian deities.
[_JULIAN gives a sign; some of the attendants withdraw the veil
from the stone: an altar is seen, and, at its base, a flagon
of wine, a cruse of oil, a little heap of wood, and other
appurtenances. Strong but speechless emotion in the
multitude, as JULIAN goes up to the altar, and prepares for
the offering._
THEMISTIUS.
Oh well may I, as a Greek, melt into tears at the sight of so much
humility and pious zeal!
A CITIZEN.
See, he breaks the fuel himself!
ANOTHER.
Over his left thigh. Is that how it ought to be broken?
THE FIRST CITIZEN.
Doubtless, doubtless.
MAMERTINUS.
In the light of the fire you there kindle, oh, great Emperor, shall
research and learning shine forth, ay, and rise rejuvenated, like that
miraculous bird——
NEVITA.
That fire will temper the weapons of Greece. I know little of the
Galilean figments; but this I have noted, that all who believe in them
are spiritless and unfit for greater things.
THEMISTIUS.
In this fire, oh incomparable one, I see wisdom purged of all scandal
and reproach. The wine of your libation is like purple, wherewith you
deck the truth, and set her on a royal throne. Now, as you lift up your
hands——
MAMERTINUS.
Now, as you lift up your hands, it is as though you glorified the brow
of knowledge with a golden wreath; and the tears you shed——
THEMISTIUS.
[_Pressing nearer._] Yes, yes, the tears I see you shed are like costly
pearls, wherewith eloquence shall once more be rewarded in kingly wise.
Once again, then, the Greeks are suffered to raise their eyes to heaven,
and follow the eternal stars in their courses! How long it is since that
was vouchsafed us! Have we not been forced, for fear of spies, to
tremble and bow our faces to the earth, like the brutes? Which of us
dared so much as to watch the rising or the setting of the sun?
[_He turns to the crowd._
Even you husbandmen, who have to-day flocked hither in such numbers,
even you did not venture to note the position of the heavenly bodies,
although by them you should have regulated your labours——
MAMERTINUS.
And you seamen,—have either you or your fathers dared to utter the names
of the constellations by which you steered? Now you may do so; now all
are free to——
THEMISTIUS.
Now no Greek need live on land or sea without consulting the immutable
laws of the heavens; he need no longer let himself be tossed about like
a plaything, by chance and circumstance; he——
MAMERTINUS.
Oh, how great is this Emperor, to whom we owe such blessings!
JULIAN.
[_Before the altar, with uplifted arms._] Thus have I openly and in all
humility made libations of oil and wine to you, ye beneficent deities,
who have so long been denied these seemly observances. I have sent up my
thanksgiving to thee, oh Apollo, whom some of the sages—especially those
of the East—call by the name of the Sun-King, because thou bringest and
renewest that light, wherein life has its source and its
fountain-head.—To thee, too, I have made offering, oh Dionysus, god of
ecstasy, who dost lift up the souls of mortals out of abasement, and
exaltest them to an ennobling communion with higher spirits.—And,
although I name thee last, I have not been least mindful of thee, oh
Fortuna! Without thine aid, should I have stood here? I know indeed that
thou dost no longer visibly manifest thyself, as in the golden age, of
which the peerless blind singer has told us. But this I know, too,—and
herein all other philosophers are at one with me—that it is thou who
hast the decisive share in the choice of the guardian spirit, good or
evil, that is to accompany every man on his path through life. I have no
cause to chide thee, oh Fortuna! Rather have I the strongest reason to
yield thee all thanks and praise. This duty, precious to my heart, have
I this day fulfilled. I have not shrunk from even the humblest office.
Here I stand in open day; the eyes of all Greece are upon me; I expect
the voice of all Greece to unite with mine in acclaiming you, oh ye
immortal gods!
[_During the sacrificial service, most of the Christian
onlookers have gradually stolen away; only a little knot
remains behind. When JULIAN ceases speaking, there arise
only faint sounds of approval mingled with subdued laughter,
and whispers of astonishment_
JULIAN.
[_Looking round._] What is this? What has become of them all? Are they
slinking away?
THEMISTIUS.
Yes, red with shame at the ingratitude of so many years.
MAMERTINUS.
Nay, ’twas the flush of joy. They have gone to spread the great tidings
throughout the city.
JULIAN.
[_Leaving the altar._] The ignorant multitude is ever perplexed by what
is unaccustomed. My task will be arduous; but no labour shall daunt me.
What better befits a philosopher than to root out error? In this mission
I count on your aid, enlightened friends! But our thoughts must turn
elsewhere, for a little time. Follow me; I go to other duties.
[_He departs hastily, without returning the citizens’ greetings;
the courtiers, and his other attendants, follow him._
SCENE SECOND.
_A great hall in the Imperial Palace. Doors on both sides, and in the
back; in front, to the left, on a daïs by the wall, stands the
imperial throne._
_The EMPEROR JULIAN, surrounded by his court and high officials, among
whom is URSULUS, the Treasurer, with the orators THEMISTIUS and
MAMERTINUS._
JULIAN.
So far have the gods aided us. Now the work will roll onwards, like the
waves of a spring flood. The sullen ill-will which I can trace in
certain quarters where I least expected it, shall not disturb my
equanimity. Is it not precisely the distinguishing mark of true wisdom,
that it begets patience! We all know that by suitable remedies bodily
ills may be allayed;—but can fire and sword annihilate delusions as to
things divine? And what avails it though your hands make offerings, if
your souls condemn the action of your hands?
Thus will we live in concord with each other. My court shall be open to
all men of mark, whatever their opinions. Let us show the world the rare
and august spectacle of a court without hypocrisy—assuredly the only one
of its kind—a court in which flatterers are counted the most dangerous
of enemies. We will censure and expostulate with one another, when it is
needful, yet without loving one another the less.
[_To NEVITA, who enters by the back._
Your face is radiant, Nevita;—what good tidings do you bring?
NEVITA.
The best and happiest indeed. A great company of envoys from princes in
furthest India have come to bring you gifts, and to entreat your
friendship.
JULIAN.
Ah, tell me,—to what peoples do they belong?
NEVITA.
To the Armenians, and other races beyond the Tigris. Indeed, some of the
strangers aver they come from the islands of Diu and Serandib.
JULIAN.
From the uttermost verge of the earth my friends!
THEMISTIUS.
Even so far has rumour carried your name and your glory!
MAMERTINUS.
Even in those unknown regions is your sword a terror to princes and
peoples!
THEMISTIUS.
Diu and Serandib! Far east in the Indian sea——
MAMERTINUS.
I do not hesitate to say: beyond the orb of the world——
JULIAN.
Bid the barber come!
[_A courtier goes out to the right._
I will receive the envoys in seemly guise,—yet without display or
adornment. So would the august Marcus Aurelius have received them; and
him I make my pattern, rather than the Emperor whose death we have
lately had to mourn. No more parade of transitory mundane things! Even
the barbarians shall see that wisdom—in the person, truly, of her
meanest servant—has resumed her place upon the throne.
[_The courtier returns with EUNAPIUS, the barber, who is
magnificently attired._
JULIAN.
[_Looks at him in astonishment, then goes to meet him, and greets him._]
What seek you here, my lord?
EUNAPIUS.
Gracious Emperor, you have commanded my attendance——
JULIAN.
You mistake, friend; I have not sent for any of my councillors.
EUNAPIUS.
Most gracious Emperor——
URSULUS.
Pardon me, sire; this man is the imperial barber.
JULIAN.
What do I hear? Can it be? This man—oh, you jest—this man, in silken
raiment, with gold-embroidered shoes, is——? Ah, indeed! So you are the
barber! [_He bows before him_] Never shall I presume to let myself be
served by such delicate hands.
EUNAPIUS.
Most gracious Emperor,—I pray you, for God and my Saviour’s sake——
JULIAN.
Ho-ho! A Galilean! Did I not think so! Is this the self-denial you boast
of? But I know you well! What temple of what godhead have you plundered,
or how many dips have you made into the Emperor’s coffers, to attain
such magnificence as this?—You may go; I have no occasion for you.
[_EUNAPIUS goes out to the right._
Tell me, Ursulus, what is that man’s wage?
URSULUS.
Gracious Emperor, by your august predecessor’s command, the daily
maintenance of twenty men is assigned him——
JULIAN.
Aha! No more than that?
URSULUS.
Yes, sire; latterly he has had free stabling in the imperial stables,
together with a certain yearly allowance of money, and a gold piece for
every time he——
JULIAN.
And all this for a barber! What, then, must the others——? This shall not
last a day longer.——Admit the foreign envoys!
[_NEVITA goes out by the back._
I will receive them with uncut hair. Better so; for although I know well
that it is not the unkempt hair, nor the tattered cloak, that makes the
true philosopher, yet surely the example given by both Antisthenes and
Diogenes may well be respected by one who—even on the throne—desires to
follow in such great teachers’ footsteps.
_He ascends the daïs on which stands the throne. The court ranges itself
below. The Envoys, introduced by NEVITA and the Chamberlain
EUTHERIUS, enter in magnificent procession, accompanied by slaves,
who bear gifts of all sorts._
NEVITA.
Most gracious Lord and Emperor! Not being possessed of the noble idiom
which so many eloquent men, and you yourself not the least, have
perfected beyond all other tongues,—and therewith fearful of letting
barbarous sounds offend your ear,—these envoys from the princes of the
East have deputed me to be their spokesman.
JULIAN.
[_Sitting on the throne._] I am ready to hear you.
NEVITA.
First, the King of Armenia lays at your feet this suit of mail, begging
you to wear it in battle against the foes of the empire, although he
knows that you, invincible hero, stand under the protecting eye of the
gods, who will suffer no weapon of mortal man to wound you.—Here are
priceless carpets, tents, and saddle-housings from the princes beyond
the Tigris. They thereby acknowledge that, if the gods have granted
those lands exceeding riches, it was with the design that these riches
should be at the service of their favourite.—The King of Serandib, and
likewise the King of Diu, send you these weapons, sword, spear, and
shield, with bows and arrows; for, they say, “We esteem it wisest to
stand unarmed before the victorious lord who, like a divinity, has shown
himself so mighty as to overwhelm all opposition.”—In return, all pray
for the supreme favour of your friendship, and especially beg that if,
as report says, you propose next spring to annihilate the audacious
Persian king, you will spare their territories from hostile invasion.
JULIAN.