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.
Yes, yes, we _must_ advance,—northwards. Maximus must soon be here. I
have sent to the rear for the Etruscan soothsayers; they shall try once
more—— I have also discovered some Magians, who say they are well versed
in the Chaldean mysteries. Our own priests are taking the omens in nine
different places——
NEVITA.
Sire, whatever the omens may say, I tell you we must go hence. The
soldiers are no longer to be depended on; they see clearly that our only
hope lies in reaching the Armenian mountains.
JULIAN.
We will do so, Nevita,—whatever the omens say. Nevertheless it gives one
a great feeling of security to know that one is acting, as it were, in
concert with those unfathomable powers who, if they will, can so
potently influence our destinies.
NEVITA.
[_Goes from him, and says shortly and decisively._] Anatolus, strike the
Emperor’s tent!
[_He whispers some words to the Captain of the Guard, and goes
out to the right._
JULIAN.
All auguries for these forty days have been inauspicious; and that
proves that we may place trust in them; for in all that time our affairs
have made but scant headway. But now, you see, my Oribases,—now that I
have a fresh enterprise in view——
Ah! Maximus!
MAXIMUS.
[_Entering from the plain._] The army is already on the march, sire; get
to horse!
JULIAN.
The auguries—the auguries?
MAXIMUS.
Oh—the auguries! Ask not about the auguries.
JULIAN.
Speak! I demand to know what they say.
MAXIMUS.
All auguries are silent.
JULIAN.
Silent?
MAXIMUS.
I went to the priests; the entrails of the sacrifices gave no sign. I
went to the Etruscan jugglers; the flight and cries of the birds said
nothing. I went also to the Magians; their writings had no answer to
give. And I myself——
JULIAN.
You yourself, my Maximus?
MAXIMUS.
Now I can tell you. Last night I studied the aspect of the stars. They
told me nothing, Julian.
JULIAN.
Nothing.—Silence—silence, as though in an eclipse. Alone! No longer any
bridge between me and the spirits.
Where are you now, oh white-sailed fleet, that sped to and fro in the
sunlight and carried tidings between earth and heaven?
The fleet is burnt. That fleet too is burnt. Oh all my shining ships.
Tell me, Maximus—what do you believe as to this?
MAXIMUS.
I believe in you.
JULIAN.
Yes, yes—believe!
MAXIMUS.
The world-will has resigned its power into your hands; therefore it is
silent.
JULIAN.
So will we read it. And we must act accordingly,—although we might have
preferred that—— This silence! To stand so utterly alone.
But there are others who may also be said to stand almost alone. The
Galileans. They have but one god; and one god is next thing to no god.
How is it, then, that we daily see these men——?
ANATOLUS.
[_Who has meanwhile had the tent struck._] My Emperor, now must you get
to horse; I dare not let you remain here longer.
JULIAN.
Yes, now I will mount. Where is my good Babylonius? See now; sword in
hand——
Come, my dear friends!
[_All go out to the right._
SCENE SECOND.
_A marshy, wooded country. A dark, still lake among the trees.
Watch-fires in the distance. Moonlight, with driving clouds._
_Several soldiers on guard in the foreground._
MAKRINA AND THE WOMEN.
[_Singing without, on the left._
Woe to us! Woe!
Upon us all
God’s wrath will fall!
Death we shall know!
ONE OF THE SOLDIERS.
[_Listening._] Hark! Do you hear? The Galilean women are singing over
yonder.
ANOTHER SOLDIER.
They sing like owls and night ravens.
A THIRD SOLDIER.
Yet would I willingly be with them. ’Tis safer with the Galileans than
with us. The God of the Galileans is stronger than our gods.
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
The thing is that the Emperor has angered the gods. How could he think
of setting himself up in their place?
THE THIRD SOLDIER.
What is worse is that he has angered the Galileans’ God. Have you not
heard, they say positively that, a few nights since, he and his magician
ripped open a pregnant woman, to read omens in her entrails?
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
Ay, but I do not believe it. At any rate, I am sure ’twas not a Greek
woman; it must have been a barbarian.
THE THIRD SOLDIER.
They say the Galileans’ God cares for the barbarians too; and if so,
’twill be the worse for us.
THE SECOND SOLDIER.
Oh, pooh—the Emperor is a great soldier.
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
They say King Sapor is a great soldier too.
THE SECOND SOLDIER.
Think you we have the whole Persian army before us?
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
Some say ’tis only the advance-guard; no one knows for certain.
THE THIRD SOLDIER.
I would I were among the Galileans.
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
Are _you_ going over to them, too?
THE THIRD SOLDIER.
So many are going over. In the last few days——
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
[_Calling out into the darkness._] Halt—halt! Who goes there?
A VOICE.
Friends from the outposts!
[_Several soldiers come from among the trees, with AGATHON the
Cappadocian in their midst._
THE SECOND SOLDIER.
Ho-ho; a deserter.
ONE OF THE NEW-COMERS.
No; he has gone out of his mind.
AGATHON.
I have _not_ gone out of my mind. Oh, for God’s great mercy’s sake,—let
me go!
THE SOLDIER FROM THE OUTPOSTS.
He says he wants to slay a beast with seven heads.
AGATHON.
Yes, yes, yes, I will, I will. Oh, let me go! See you this spear? Know
you what spear it is? With this spear will I slay the beast with seven
heads, and then I shall get back my soul again. Christ himself has
promised me that. He was with me to-night.
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
Hunger and weariness have turned his brain.
ONE OF THE NEW-COMERS.
To the camp with him; there he can sleep his weariness away.
AGATHON.
Let me go! Oh, if you but knew what spear this is!
[_The soldiers lead him off by the front, to the right._
THE THIRD SOLDIER.
What could he mean by that beast?
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
That is one of the Galilean secrets. They have many such secrets among
them.
[_EUTHERIUS and ORIBASES enter hastily from the right, looking
anxiously about._
EUTHERIUS.
Do you not see him?
ORIBASES.
No.—Ah, soldiers!—Tell me, good friends, has any one passed by here?
THE FIRST SOLDIER.
Yes, a detachment of spearmen.
ORIBASES.
Good, good! But nobody else? No great person? None of the generals?
THE SOLDIERS.
No, none.
ORIBASES.
Not here then! Oh, Eutherius, how could you——?
EUTHERIUS.
Could I help——? Could I help it——? I have not closed my old eyes for
three nights——
ORIBASES.
[_To the soldiers._] You must help us to search. I demand it in the name
of the general-in-chief. Spread yourselves among the trees; and should
you find any great person, report it at the watch-fire yonder.
THE SOLDIERS.
We will not fail, sir!
[_They all go out by different ways, to the left. Soon after,
the EMPEROR emerges from behind a tree on the right. He
listens, looks round, and beckons to some one behind him._
JULIAN.
Hist! Come forward, Maximus! They did not see us.
MAXIMUS.
[_From the same side._] Oribases was one of them.
JULIAN.
Yes, yes; both he and Eutherius keep watch on me. They imagine that——
Has neither of them told you aught?
MAXIMUS.
No, my Julian! But why have you awakened me? What would you here in the
darkness?
JULIAN.
I would be alone with you for the last time, my beloved teacher!
MAXIMUS.
Not for the last time, Julian!
JULIAN.
See that dark water. Think you—if I utterly vanished from the earth, and
my body was never found, and none knew what had become of me,—think you
the report would spread abroad that Hermes had come for me, and carried
me away, and that I had been exalted to the fellowship of the gods?
MAXIMUS.
The time is at hand when men will not need to die, in order to live as
gods on the earth.
JULIAN.
I am pining with home-sickness, Maximus,—with home-sick longing for the
light and the sun and all the stars.
MAXIMUS.
Oh, I beseech you—think not of sorrowful things. The Persian army is
before you. To-morrow will come the battle. You will conquer——
JULIAN.
I—conquer? You do not know who was with me an hour ago.
MAXIMUS.
Who was with you?
JULIAN.
I had fallen asleep on my couch in the tent. Suddenly I was awakened by
a strong red glare, that seemed to burn through my closed eye-lids. I
looked up and beheld a figure standing in the tent. Over its head was a
long drapery, falling on both sides, so as to leave the face free.
MAXIMUS.
Knew you this figure?
JULIAN.
It was the same face which I saw in the light that night at Ephesus,
many years ago,—that night when we held symposium with the two others.
MAXIMUS.
The spirit of the empire.
JULIAN.
Since then it has appeared to me once in Gaul,—on an occasion I would
fain forget.
MAXIMUS.
Did it speak?
JULIAN.
No. It seemed as though it wished to speak; but it did not. It stood
motionless, looking at me. Its face was pale and distorted. Suddenly,
with both arms, it drew the drapery together over its head, hid its
face, and went straight out through the tent-wall.
MAXIMUS.
The decisive hour is at hand.
JULIAN.
Ay, truly, ’tis at hand.
MAXIMUS.
Courage, Julian! He who wills, conquers.
JULIAN.
And what does the conqueror win? Is it worth while to conquer? What has
the Macedonian Alexander, what has Julius Caesar won? Greeks and Romans
talk of their renown with cold admiration,—while the other, the
Galilean, the carpenter’s son, sits throned as the king of love in the
warm, believing hearts of men.
Where is he now?—Has he been at work elsewhere since that happened at
Golgotha?
I dreamed of him lately. I dreamed that I had subdued the whole world. I
ordained that the memory of the Galilean should be rooted out on earth;
and it was rooted out.—Then the spirits came and ministered to me, and
bound wings on my shoulders, and I soared aloft into infinite space,
till my feet rested on another world.
It _was_ another world than mine. Its curve was vaster, its light more
golden, and many moons circled around it.
Then I looked down at my own earth—the Emperor’s earth, which I had made
Galileanless—and I thought that all that I had done was very good.
But behold, my Maximus,—there came a procession by me, on the strange
earth where I stood. There were soldiers, and judges, and executioners
at the head of it, and weeping women followed. And lo!—in the midst of
the slow-moving array, was the Galilean, alive, and bearing a cross on
his back. Then I called to him, and said, “Whither away, Galilean?” But
he turned his face toward me, smiled, nodded slowly, and said: “To the
place of the skull.”
Where is he now? What if _that_ at Golgotha, near Jerusalem, was but a
wayside matter, a thing done, as it were, in passing, in a leisure hour?
What if he goes on and on, and suffers, and dies, and conquers, again
and again, from world to world?
Oh that I could lay waste the world! Maximus,—is there no poison, no
consuming fire, that could lay creation desolate, as it was on that day
when the spirit moved alone over the face of the waters?
MAXIMUS.
I hear a noise from the outposts. Come, Julian——
JULIAN.
To think that century shall follow century, and that in them all shall
live men, knowing that ’twas I who was vanquished, and he who conquered!
I _will_ not be vanquished! I am young; I am invulnerable,—the third
empire is at hand——
[_With a great cry._
There he stands!
MAXIMUS.
Who? Where?
JULIAN.
Do you see him? There, among the tree-stems—in a crown and a purple
robe——
MAXIMUS.
’Tis the moon glimmering on the water. Come—come, my Julian!
JULIAN.
[_Going threateningly towards the vision._] Avaunt! Thou art dead! Thy
empire is past. Off with the juggler’s cloak, carpenter’s son!
What dost thou there? At what art thou hammering?—Ah!
EUTHERIUS.
[_From the left._] All gods be praised!—Oribases,—here, here!
JULIAN.
What has become of him?
ORIBASES.
[_From the left._] Is he here?
EUTHERIUS.
Yes.—Oh my beloved Emperor!
JULIAN.
Who was it that said, “I am hammering the Emperor’s coffin”?
ORIBASES.
What mean you, sire?
JULIAN.
Who spoke, I ask? Who was it that said, “I am hammering the Emperor’s
coffin”?
ORIBASES.
Come with me to your tent, I implore you.
[_Shouts and cries are heard far away._
MAXIMUS.
War-cries! The Persians are upon us——
EUTHERIUS.
There is already fierce fighting at the outposts.
ORIBASES.
The enemy is in the camp! Ah, sire, you are unarmed——!
JULIAN.
I will sacrifice to the gods.
MAXIMUS.
To what gods, oh fool? Where are they—and what are they?
JULIAN.
I will sacrifice to this god and to that. I will sacrifice to many. One
or another must surely hear me. I must call upon something without me
and above me——
ORIBASES.
There is not a moment to be lost——!
JULIAN.
Ah—saw you the burning torch behind the cloud? It flashed forth and went
out in the same instant. A message from the spirits! A shining ship
between heaven and earth!—My shield! My sword!
[_He rushes out to the right. ORIBASES and EUTHERIUS follow
him._
MAXIMUS.
[_Calling after him._] Emperor, Emperor—do not fight to-night!
[_He goes off to the right._
SCENE THIRD.
_An open plain, with a village far away. Daybreak and cloudy weather._
_A noise of battle. Cries and the clashing of weapons out on the plain.
In the foreground Roman spearmen, under AMMIAN’S command, fighting
with Persian archers. The latter are driven back by degrees
towards the left._
AMMIAN.
Right, right! Close with them! Thrust them down! Give them no time to
shoot!
NEVITA.
[_With followers from the right._] Well fought, Ammian!
AMMIAN.
Oh sir, why come not the cavalry to our help?
NEVITA.
They cannot. The Persians have elephants in their front rank. The very
smell strikes terror to the horses. Thrust—thrust! Upwards, men,—under
their breastplates?
KYTRON.
[_In night-clothes, laden with books and rolls of paper, enters from the
right._] Oh that I should be in the midst of such horrors!
NEVITA.
Have you seen the Emperor, friend?
KYTRON.
Yes, but he heeds me not. Oh, I humbly beg for a detachment of soldiers
to protect me!
NEVITA.
[_To his followers._] They are giving ground! The shield-bearers
forward!
KYTRON.
You do not listen to me, sir! My safety is of the utmost importance; my
book, “On Equanimity in Affliction,” is not finished——
NEVITA.
[_As before._] The Persians have been reinforced on the right. They are
pressing forward again!
KYTRON.
Pressing forward again? Oh this bloodthirsty ferocity! An arrow! It
almost struck me! How recklessly they shoot; no care for life or limb!
[_He takes to flight by the foreground on the left._
NEVITA.
The battle hangs in the balance. Neither side gains ground.
[_To FROMENTINUS, who comes with a fresh troop from the right._
Ho, captain,—have you seen the Emperor?
FROMENTINUS.
Yes, sir; he is fighting at the head of the white horsemen.
NEVITA.
Not wounded?
FROMENTINUS.
He seems invulnerable. Arrows and javelins swerve aside wherever he
shows himself.
AMMIAN.
[_Calling out from the thick of the fight._] Help, help; we can hold out
no longer!
NEVITA.
Forward, my bold Fromentinus!
FROMENTINUS.
[_To the soldiers._] Shoulder to shoulder, and at them, Greeks!
[_He hastens to the help of AMMIAN; the mellay rolls backwards a
little._
_ANATOLUS, the Captain of the Guard, enters
with followers from the right._
ANATOLUS.
Is not the Emperor here?
NEVITA.
The Emperor! Is it not your business to answer for him?
ANATOLUS.
His horse was shot under him,—a terrible tumult arose; it was impossible
to get near him——
NEVITA.
Think you he has come to any harm?
ANATOLUS.
No, I think not. There was a cry that he was unhurt, but——
MANY OF NEVITA’S FOLLOWERS.
There he is! There he is!
_The EMPEROR JULIAN, without helmet or armour, with only a sword
and shield, escorted by soldiers of the Imperial Guard,
enters from the right._
JULIAN.
’Tis well I have found you, Nevita!
NEVITA.
Ah, sire—without armour; how imprudent——
JULIAN.
In these regions no weapon can touch me. But go, Nevita; take the
supreme command; my horse was shot under me, and——
NEVITA.
My Emperor, then after all you are hurt?
JULIAN.
No; only a blow on the head; a little dizzy. Go, go—— What is _this_? So
many strange multitudes thronging in among us!
NEVITA.
[_In a low voice._] Anatolus, you must answer for the Emperor.
ANATOLUS.
Never fear, sir!
[_NEVITA goes off with his followers to the right. The EMPEROR
JULIAN, ANATOLUS, and some of the Imperial Guard remain
behind. The fight on the plain rolls further and further
back._
JULIAN.
How many of our men think you have fallen, Anatolus?
ANATOLUS.
Certainly not a few, sire; but I am sure the Persians have lost more
than we.
JULIAN.
Yes, yes; but many have fallen, both Greeks and Romans. Do you not think
so?
ANATOLUS.
Surely you are unwell, my Emperor. Your face is so pale——
JULIAN.
Look at those lying there,—some on their backs, others on their faces,
with outstretched arms. They must all be dead?
ANATOLUS.
Yes, sire, beyond a doubt.
JULIAN.
They are dead, yes! They know nought, then, either of the defeat at
Jerusalem or the other defeats.—Think you many more Greeks will fall in
the battle, Anatolus?
ANATOLUS.
Sire, let us hope the bloodiest work is over.
JULIAN.
Many, many more will fall, I tell you! But not enough. Of what use is it
that _many_ should fall? None the less will posterity learn——
Tell me, Anatolus, how think you the Emperor Caligula pictured to
himself that sword?
ANATOLUS.
What sword, sire?
JULIAN.
You know he wished for a sword wherewith he might at one blow——
ANATOLUS.
Hark to the shouts, sire! Now I am sure the Persians are retreating.
JULIAN.
[_Listening._] What song is that in the air?
ANATOLUS.
Sire, let me summon Oribases; or still better,—come,—come; you are sick!
JULIAN.
There is singing in the air. Can you not hear it?
ANATOLUS.
If it be so, it must be the Galileans——
JULIAN.
Ay, be sure ’tis the Galileans. Ha-ha-ha, they fight in our ranks, and
see not who stands on the other side. Oh fools, all of you! Where is
Nevita? Why should he attack the Persians? Can he not see that ’tis not
the Persians who are most dangerous?—You betray me, all of you.
ANATOLUS.
[_Softly to one of the soldiers._] Hasten to the camp; bring hither the
Emperor’s physician?
[_The soldier goes out to the right._
JULIAN.
What innumerable hosts! Think you they have caught sight of us,
Anatolus?
ANATOLUS.
Who, sire? Where?
JULIAN.
Do you not see them—yonder—high up and far away! You lie! You see them
well enough!
ANATOLUS.
By the immortal gods, they are only the morning clouds,—’tis the day
dawning.
JULIAN.
’Tis the hosts of the Galilean, I tell you! Look—those in the red-edged
garments are the martyrs who died in blood. Singing women surround them,
and weave bowstrings of the long hair torn from their heads. Children
are with them, twining slings from their unravelled entrails. Burning
torches——! Thousandfold—multitudinous! They are hastening hitherward!
They are all looking at me; all rushing straight upon me!
ANATOLUS.
’Tis the Persians, sire! Our ranks are giving way——
JULIAN.