lievers. In like manner shall the Lord trample you under his heel. Your body shall be scattered to the wild winds, and your soul shall descend to a place of greater torments than you can devise for me and mine!
[The women flock around Cyrillus, with cries and lamentations.
Julian.
I would fain have spared you, Cyrillus! The gods are my witnesses that I hate you not for your faith's sake. But you have mocked at my imperial power and authority, and that I must punish.
[To the Captain of the Guard.
Fromentinus, lead this man to prison, and let the executioner Typhon give him as many lashes with the scourge as are needful to make him confess that the Emperor, and not the Galilean, has all power upon earth.
Gregory.
Be strong, Cyrillus, my brother!
Cyrillus.
[With upraised hands.] How blessed am I, to suffer for the glory of God!
[The soldiers seize and drag him out.
The Women.
[With tears and sobs.] Woe to us! Woe, woe, to the apostate!
Julian.
Disperse these maniacs! Let them be driven
