Basil.
Say not that you long for death, Julian!
Julian.
What you slavishly hope for after death, 'tis the aim of the great mystery to win for all the initiated, here in our earthly life. 'Tis regeneration that Maximus and his disciples seek,—'tis our lost likeness to the godhead. Wherefore so full of doubt, my brothers? Why do you stand there as though before something insurmountable? I know what I know. In each successive generation there has been one soul wherein the pure Adam has been born again; he was strong in Moses the lawgiver; in the Macedonian Alexander he had power to subdue the world; he was well-nigh perfect in Jesus of Nazareth. But see, Basil—[He grasps him by the arm]—all of them lacked what is promised to <g>me</g>—the pure woman!
Basil.
[Freeing himself.] Julian, Julian!
Gregory.
Blasphemer—to this has your pride of heart brought you!
Basil.
Oh, Gregory, he is sick and beside himself!
Julian.
Why all this scornful doubt? Is it my small stature that witnesses against me? Ha, ha; I tell you this gross and fleshly generation shall pass away. That which is to come shall be conceived rather in the soul than in the body. In the first
