An Old Man.
Christ enlighten you, sire!
Julian.
Aha, you are a Galilean! And you must put in your word? Did not your great Master sit at meat with sinners? Did he not frequent houses that were held less than reputable? Answer me that.
Eunapius.
[Surrounded by girls, in the doorway of Barbara's house.] Yes, answer, answer if you can, you fool! Julian. What,—are not you that barber whom? Eunapius. A new-made freeman, gracious Emperor! Make way, Bacchanalians; room for a brother! [He and the girls dance into the ranks of the Bacchanalians.
Julian.
I like this well. Take example by this Greek, if you have a spark of your fathers' spirit left in you. And this is sorely needed, you citizens; for no divinity has been so much misunderstood—ay, even rendered ridiculous—as this ecstatic Dionysus, whom the Romans also call Bacchus. Think you he is the god of sots? Oh ignorant creatures, I pity you, if that is your thought. Who but he inspires poets and prophets with their miraculous gifts? I know that some attribute this function to Apollo, and certainly not without a show of reason; but in that case the whole matter must
