The First.
[To the second.] You see! What did I tell you?
Julian.
Pass onward to thy home, amid pomp and honour, soulless body of my kinsman! I make not this dust answerable for the wrongs thy spirit did me. What do I say? Was it thy spirit that dealt so hardly with my house, that I alone am left? Was it thy spirit that caused my childhood to be darkened with a thousand terrors? Was it thy spirit that bade fall that noble Caesar's head? Was it thou who didst allot to me, an untried stripling, so difficult a post in inhospitable Gaul, and afterwards, when disaffection and mischance had failed to crush me, didst seek to rob me of the honour of my victories? Oh Constantius, my kinsman,—not from thy great heart did all this spring. Wherefore didst thou writhe in remorse and anguish; why didst thou see gory shades around thee, on thy last bed of pain? Evil councillors embittered thy life and thy death. I know them, these councillors; they were men who took hurt from living in the ceaseless sunshine of thy favour. I know them, these men, who so obsequiously clothed themselves in that garb of faith, which was most in favour at court.
Heathen Citizens.
[Among the spectators.] Long live the Emperor Julian!
Caesarius.
Most gracious lord, the procession waits
