Julian.
[With suppressed laughter.] To Athens! Then, oh man of wealth, you do not own your own riches.
The Philosopher.
[Stops.] How so?
Julian.
Is it the part of a wise man to take owls to Athens?
The Philosopher.
My owls cannot endure the church-lights here in the imperial city. [To one of the young men.] Give me your hand, Sallust.
[Is about to descend the steps.
Sallust.
[Half-way down the steps, whispers.] By the gods, it is <g>he</g>!
The Philosopher.
He?
Sallust.
On my life, 'tis he! I know him;—I have seen him with Hekebolius.
The Philosopher.
Ah!
[He looks at Julian with furtive intentness;
then goes a step towards him and says:
You smiled just now. At what did you smile?
Julian.
When you complained of the church-lights, I wondered whether it were not rather the imperial light of the lecture-halls that shone too bright in your eyes.
