Julian.
No; only a blow on the head; a little dizzy. Go, go What is <g>this</g>? So many strange multitudes thronging in among us!
Nevita.
[In a low voice.] Anatolus, you must answer for the Emperor. Anatolus. Never fear, sir! [Nevita goes off with his followers to the right. The Emperor Julian, Anatolus, and some of the Imperial Guard remain behind. The fight on the plain rolls further and further back.
Julian.
How many of our men think you have fallen, Anatolus?
Anatolus.
Certainly not a few, sire; but I am sure the Persians have lost more than we.
Julian.
Yes, yes; but many have fallen, both Greeks and Romans. Do you not think so?
Anatolus.
Surely you are unwell, my Emperor. Your face is so pale
Julian.
Look at those lying there,—some on their backs, others on their faces, with outstretched arms. They must all be dead?
