SCENE FIRST.
A barren, stony desert, without trees or grass. To the right, the Emperor's tent. Afternoon.
Exhausted soldiers lie in knots on the plain. Detachments now and again pass by from left to right. Outside the tent are the philosophers Priscus and Kytron, with several others of the Emperor's suite, waiting in restless anxiety. The captain of the bodyguard, Anatolus, stands with soldiers before the opening of the tent.
Kytron.
Is is not incredible that this council of war should last so long?
Priscus.
Ay, truly; one would think there were only two courses to choose between: to advance or to retire.
Kytron.
'Tis utterly incomprehensible
Tell me, good Anatolus, why, in the name of the gods, do we not advance?
Priscus.
Yes, why alarm us by halting here in the middle of the desert?
