Some of the Crowd.
The Emperor's power has no limits.
Julian.
So I should think. But to want to escape from the infinite, my friends, is not that madness?
The Scholars.
Yes, yes; the Cappadocian is mad!
Julian.
And what, then, is madness? How did our forefathers conceive of it? What was the doctrine of the Egyptian priests? And what says Maximus the Mystic and the other philosophers of the East? They say that the divine enigma reveals itself in the brainsick. Our Gregory—in setting himself up against the Emperor—is thus in special league with Heaven.—Make libations of wine to the Cappadocian; sing songs to our Gregory's praise;—a statue of honour for Gregory of Nazianzus!
The Scholars.
[Amid laughter and glee.] Praise to the Cappadocian! Praise to the Cappadocian's judge! The Philosopher Libanius, surrounded by disciples, comes across the square.
Libanius.
Ah, see—is not my brother Julian dispensing wisdom in the open market-place?
Julian.
Say folly, dear friend; wisdom has departed the city.
