Decentius.
Call me hasty, if you will, noble Caesar, But my love to the Emperor and to his sorrow-stricken house would in truth be less than it is if, in such an hour, I were capable of calm reflection.
Julian.
Have you killed both the slaves?
Decentius.
Had not their negligence deserved a sevenfold death? They were two heathen savages, my lord! Their testimony would have been worthless; it was impossible to wring anything out of them, save that they had left their precious charge standing for some time unwatched in the antechamber, accessible to every one
Julian.
Aha! Had they indeed, Decentius?
Decentius.
I accuse no one. But oh, beloved Caesar, I bid you beware; for you are surrounded by faithless servants. Your court—by an unhappy misunderstanding!—fancies that some sort of disfavour—or what should I call it?—is implied in the measures which the Emperor has found it necessary to adopt; in short
Sintula.
[Entering from the back.] My lord, you have imposed on me a charge I can in no way fulfil.
Julian.
The Emperor imposed it, good Sintula!
