Julian.
Yes, in conscious life. Reunion for me, as the being I am!
The Philosopher.
Reunion like that of the raindrop with the sea, like that of the crumbling leaf with the earth that bore it.
Julian.
Oh, had I but learning! Had I but the weapons to use against you!
The Philosopher.
Take to yourself weapons, young man! The lecture-hall is the armoury of intellect and talent
Julian.
[Recoiling.] Ah! The Philosopher. Look at those joyous youths yonder. There are Galileans among them. Errors in things divine cause no discord among us. Farewell! You Galileans have sent truth into exile. See, now, how we bear the buffets of fate. See, we hold high our wreath-crowned heads. So we depart—shortening the night with song, and awaiting Helios. [He descends the steps where his disciples have waited for him; then the boat is heard rowing away with them.
Julian.
[Gazes long over the water.] Who was he, that mysterious man?
