so misguided as to accept their call, which, moreover, the canon of their own church declares invalid.
But that is far from being the worst; worse, worse, ten times worse is it, that Athanasius has returned to Alexandria.
Nevita.
Athanasius!
Priscus.
That mysterious bishop who, six years ago, vanished into the desert.
Julian.
A council cf the church expelled him on account of his unseemly zeal. The Galileans were tractable under my predecessor.
Yes, just think of it—this raging fanatic has returned to Alexandria. His entrance was like a king's; the road was strewn with carpets and green palm-branches. And what followed? What do you think? The same night a riot broke out among the Galileans. George, their lawful bishop, that right-minded and well-disposed man, whom they accused of lukewarmness in the faith, was murdered—torn to pieces in the streets of the city.
Nevita.
But, sire, how were things suffered to go so far? Where was the governor, Artemius?
Julian.
You may well ask where Artemius was. I will tell you. Artemius has gone over to the Galileans. Artemius himself has broken by force of arms
