Caesar's Apostasy, Characters — Emperor and Galilean

Characters

Emperor and Galilean

CAESAR'S APOSTASY,

A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS.

CHARACTERS:

Emperor Constantius.
Empress Eusebia.
Princess Helena, the emperor's sister.
Prince Gallus, the emperor's cousin.
Prince Julian, Gallus's younger half-brother.
Memnon, an Ethiopian, the emperor's body-slave.
Potamon the goldsmith.
Phocion the dyer.
Eunapius the barber.
A fruit-seller.
A captain of the watch.
A soldier.
A painted woman.
A palsied man.
A blind beggar.
Agathon, a vinedresser's son from Cappadocia.
Libanius the teacher of wisdom.
Gregory of Nazianzus.
Basil of Caesarea.
Sallust of Perusia.
Hecebolius the scripture-scholar.
Maximus the mystic.
Eutherius the steward.
Leontes the quaestor.
Myrrha the slave-girl.
Decentius the tribune.
Sintula the master of the horse.
Florentius the general.
Severus the general.
Oribases the physician.
Laipso the under-officer.
Varro the under-officer.
Maurus the standard-bearer.
Soldiers, churchgoers, heathen onlookers, courtiers, priests, students at the schools of wisdom, dancing-girls, servants, the quaestor's retinue, Gallic warriors.
Visions and voices.

(The first act takes place in Constantinople, the second act in Athens, the third act in Ephesus, the fourth act at Lutetia in Gaul, and the fifth act at Vienna in the same country. The time spans the interval between the year 351 and the year 361.)

ACT ONE.

(Easter night in Constantinople. The scene represents an open ground with trees, bushes and overthrown statues near the imperial palace. In the background, richly lit, stands the court church. To the right a marble railing, from which a stair leads down to the water. Between pines and cypresses, a view out to the Bosporus and the Asiatic coast.)

(Divine service. Imperial household troops on the church steps. Great crowds of the devout stream in. Beggars, cripples and the blind at the entrance. Heathen onlookers, fruit-sellers and water-sellers fill the square.)

Hymn (within the church).

Eternally be praise and honour to the cross! The serpent is swept away down the gulf of the abyss; the lamb has conquered; on earth is holy peace!

Potamon the goldsmith (with a paper lantern, comes from the left, taps one of the soldiers on the shoulder and asks):

Pst, good friend, – when does the emperor come?

The soldier.

Don't know.

Phocion the dyer (turns his head in the crowd).

The emperor? I thought someone asked about the emperor? The emperor comes a little before midnight. Quite a little before. I have it from Memnon himself.

Eunapius the barber (comes running in haste and shoves a fruit-seller aside).

Out of the way, heathen!

The fruit-seller.

Gently, sir!

Potamon the goldsmith.

The swine grumbles!

Eunapius the barber.

Dog, dog!

Phocion the dyer.

To grumble at a well-dressed Christian; – at a man of the emperor's own faith!

Eunapius the barber (knocks the fruit-seller over).

Into the dirt with you!

Potamon the goldsmith.

Just so! Wallow there, like your gods.

Phocion the dyer (strikes him with his stick).

Take that, – and that, – and that!

Eunapius the barber (kicks him).

And there; and there! I'll soften your God-hated hide.

(The fruit-seller hurries off.)

Phocion the dyer (with the evident intention that it shall be heard by the captain of the watch).

I should heartily wish that someone would bring this scene to the ears of our blessed emperor. The emperor has lately voiced his displeasure that we Christian citizens keep company with the heathens, just as though nothing parted us –

Potamon the goldsmith.

You mean that notice in the marketplaces? I have read it too. And I think that, just as there is both genuine and false gold in the world –

Eunapius the barber.

One ought not to judge all by one measure; that is my opinion. There are still, God be praised, zealous souls among us.

Phocion the dyer.

We are far from zealous enough, you dear brothers! Just see how cocksure these scoffers carry themselves. Or do you think there are many of these ragged ones who bear the sign of the cross and the fish on their arm?

Potamon the goldsmith.

No, – just think, they swarm and crawl before the very court chapel –

Phocion the dyer.

– on such a most holy night –

Eunapius the barber.

– blocking the way for the church's pure members –

A painted woman (in the crowd).

Are Donatists pure?

Phocion the dyer.

What? Donatist! Are you a Donatist?

Eunapius the barber.

What now? Are you not the same?

Phocion the dyer.

I? I! May the lightning strike your tongue!

Potamon the goldsmith (makes the sign of the cross).

May plague and boils –!

Phocion the dyer.

A Donatist! You carrion; you rotten tree!

Potamon the goldsmith.

Just so; just so!

Phocion the dyer.

Chip on Satan's hearth!

Potamon the goldsmith.

Just so! Rail at him; rail at him, dear brother!

Phocion the dyer (shoves the goldsmith away).

Hold your tongue; get far away from me. Now I know you; – you are Potamon the Manichaean!

Eunapius the barber.

A Manichaean? A stinking heretic! Fie, fie!

Potamon the goldsmith (holds his paper lantern forward).

Aha! It is none other than Phocion the dyer from Antioch! The Cainite!

Eunapius the barber.

Woe is me, who have come into the company of lies!

Phocion the dyer.

Woe is me, who helped a son of the devil!

Eunapius the barber (strikes him on the ear).

Take that, as wages for the help!

Phocion the dyer (strikes back).

Oh, you wicked cur!

Potamon the goldsmith.

Cursed, cursed be you both!

(General scuffle; laughter and mockery among the onlookers.)

The captain of the watch (calls to the soldiers).

The emperor is coming!

(The fighters are parted and stream with the other devout into the church.)

Hymn (from the high altar).

The serpent is swept away down the gulf of the abyss; – the lamb has conquered, – on earth is holy peace!

(The court comes in great procession from the left. Priests with censers go in front; then guardsmen and torch-bearers, courtiers and bodyguard. In the midst, Emperor Constantius, a man of thirty-four of distinguished appearance, beardless and with brown curly hair; his eyes have a dark and distrustful expression; his gait and whole bearing betray unrest and infirmity. At his left side walks Empress Eusebia, a pale and delicate woman's figure, of the same age as the emperor. Behind the imperial couple follows Prince Julian, a not yet fully grown youth of nineteen. He is black-haired, with a beginning growth of beard, has restless brown eyes with a sudden dart; the court dress sits awkwardly on him; his gestures are clumsy, conspicuous and vehement. The emperor's sister, Princess Helena, a voluptuous beauty of twenty-five, follows after, attended by maidens and elder women. Courtiers and guardsmen close the procession. The emperor's body-slave, Memnon, a powerfully built, magnificently dressed Ethiopian, is among the retinue.)

Emperor Constantius (stops suddenly, turns to Prince Julian and asks sharply):

Where is Gallus?

Prince Julian (turns pale).

Gallus? What do you want with Gallus?

Emperor Constantius.

There I caught you!

Prince Julian.

Sire –!

Empress Eusebia (takes the emperor's hand).

Come; come!

Emperor Constantius.

Conscience cried out. What are you two plotting?

Prince Julian.

We?

Emperor Constantius.

You and he!

Empress Eusebia.

Oh, come; come, Constantius!

Emperor Constantius.

So black a deed! What answer did the oracle give?

Prince Julian.

The oracle? By my holy saviour –

Emperor Constantius.

If anyone lies about you, he shall pay for it at the stake. (draws the prince aside.) Oh, let us hold together, Julian! Dear kinsman, let us do so!

Prince Julian.

Everything lies in your hands, beloved sire!

Emperor Constantius.

My hands –!

Prince Julian.

Oh, stretch them in mercy over us!

Emperor Constantius.

My hands? What were you thinking of my hands?

Prince Julian (grasps his hands and kisses them).

The emperor's hands are white and cool.

Emperor Constantius.

What else should they be? What were you thinking? Now I caught you again!

Prince Julian (kisses them again).

They are like the rose-petals here in the moonlit night.

Emperor Constantius.

Yes, yes, yes, Julian!

Empress Eusebia.

Forward; it is time.

Emperor Constantius.

Oh, to go before the face of the Lord! I, I! Oh, pray for me, Julian! They will offer me the holy wine. I see it! It glistens, like serpent's eyes in the golden chalice –. (cries out.) Bloody eyes –! Oh, Jesus Christ, pray for me!

Empress Eusebia.

The emperor is ill –!

Princess Helena.

Where is Caesarius? The physician, the physician, – fetch him!

Empress Eusebia (beckons).

Memnon, good Memnon!

(she speaks softly with the slave.)

Prince Julian (in an undertone).

Sire, have mercy, and send me far from here.

Emperor Constantius.

Where would you most like to go?

Prince Julian.

To Egypt. There by preference, if it so please you. So many go there, after all, – into the great solitude.

Emperor Constantius.

Into the solitude? So? In solitude one broods. I forbid you to brood.

Prince Julian.

I shall not brood, if only you would permit me –. Here my soul's distress grows with each day. Evil thoughts throng about me. For nine days and nights I have worn a hair-shirt, and it has not warded them off; for nine nights I have scourged myself with the penitent's whip, but it does not drive them away.

Emperor Constantius.

We must be steadfast, Julian! The devil is sorely active in us all. Speak with Hecebolius –

Memnon the slave (to the emperor).

Now it is time –

Emperor Constantius.

No, no, I will not –

Memnon the slave (takes him by the wrist).

Come, most gracious sire; – come, I say.

Emperor Constantius (draws himself up and says with dignity):

Into the house of the Lord!

Memnon the slave (softly).

And then the other thing –.

Emperor Constantius (to Julian).

Gallus shall appear before me.

Prince Julian (behind the emperor's back, folds his hands pleadingly toward the empress).

Empress Eusebia (quickly and in an undertone).

Fear not!

Emperor Constantius.

Stay outside. Do not go into the church with the mind you now have. When you pray before the altar, it is to call down evil upon me. – Oh, do not load such guilt upon yourself, my beloved kinsman!

(The procession moves toward the church. On the steps, beggars, cripples and the blind throng about the emperor.)

A palsied man.

Oh, mightiest ruler of the world, let me touch the hem of your garment, that I may be healed.

A blind man.

Pray for me, you anointed of the Lord, that I may get my sight again!

Emperor Constantius.

Be of good cheer, son! – Memnon, scatter silver coins for them. In, in!

(The court moves into the church, whose door closes; the throng of people gradually disperses; only Prince Julian remains behind in one of the avenues.)

Prince Julian (looks toward the church).

What does he want with Gallus? On this holy night he surely cannot be thinking of –! Oh, would that one knew – – (turns and bumps into the departing blind man.) Watch where you go, friend!

The blind man.

I am blind, sir!

Prince Julian.

Still? Can you really not see even so much as that twinkling star? Shame on you, you of little faith. Did not God's anointed promise to pray for your sight?

The blind man.

Who are you, that mocks a blind brother?

Prince Julian.

A brother in unbelief and blindness.

(he is about to go off to the left.)

A voice (softly, behind him, among the bushes).

Julian, Julian!

Prince Julian (with a cry).

Ah!

The voice (nearer).

Julian!

Prince Julian.

Stand, stand; – I am armed! Beware.

A young man, (in humble clothes and with a wanderer's staff, comes into view among the trees).

Quiet; it is I –

Prince Julian.

Stay where you are! Come not near me, man!

The young man.

Oh, do you then not remember Agathon –?

Prince Julian.

Agathon! What do you say? Agathon was but a boy –

Agathon.

Six years ago. I knew you at once.

(comes nearer.)

Prince Julian.

Agathon; – yes, by the holy cross, I do believe it is you!

Agathon.

Look at me; look closely –

Prince Julian (embraces and kisses him).

Friend of my childhood! Playmate! You dearest of them all! And you are here? What a wonder! You have travelled the long way over the mountains, and then over the sea, – all that long way from Cappadocia!

Agathon.

I came two days ago by a ship from Ephesus. Oh, how vainly I have sought you in these two days. At the palace gates the guard would not let me in, and –

Prince Julian.

Did you name my name to anyone? Or that you sought me?

Agathon.

No, such a thing I dared not mention at all, for –

Prince Julian.

In that you have done right; one should never let anyone know more than is strictly necessary. –

Here, Agathon; out into the full moonlight, that I may see you. – You; you! How you have grown, Agathon; – how strong you look.

Agathon.

And you are paler.

Prince Julian.

I cannot bear the air in the palace. I think it is unwholesome here. – It is not here as in Macellum. Macellum lies high. No other place lies so high in all Cappadocia; ah, how the fresh snow-wind from Taurus sweeps across –! Are you weary, Agathon?

Agathon.

Oh, by no means.

Prince Julian.

But let us sit down. It is so still and lonely here. Close together; there now! (draws him down onto a bench by the railing.) – «Can anything good come from Cappadocia», they say. Yes, – friends can come. Is there anything better?

(looks long at him.)

Unfathomable, that I did not know you at once. Oh you, my beloved possession, is it not as in the years of childhood –?

Agathon (down before him).

I at your feet, just as then.

Prince Julian.

No, no, no –!

Agathon.

Oh, let me lie thus!

Prince Julian.

Alas, Agathon, it is sin and blasphemy to kneel before me. You should know how guilt-laden I have become. Hecebolius, my precious teacher, has much sorrow on my account, Agathon. He could tell you – – –

How full and moist your hair has grown. And how curly it is. – But Mardonius, – how does he fare? By now he must be almost white-haired?

Agathon.

He is quite white-haired.

Prince Julian.

How Mardonius understood how to expound Homer! I do not think my old Mardonius has his equal in that respect. – Hero against hero in battle; – and kindling gods above them. I saw it with my own eyes.

Agathon.

In those days your mind was set on becoming a great and happy warrior.

Prince Julian.

Those were glad years, those six in Cappadocia. Were the years longer then than now? It seems so when I call to mind all that they hold. – –

Yes, those were glad years. We at our books, and Gallus on his Persian horse. Like the shadow of a cloud he raced over the plain. – Oh, but one thing you must tell me. The church –?

Agathon.

The church? Over holy Mamas's grave?

Prince Julian (smiles faintly).

That Gallus and I built. Gallus got his wing finished; but I –; it would never quite succeed. – How has it gone since?

Agathon.

It came to nothing. The builders said it was impracticable that way.

Prince Julian (thoughtful).

To be sure; to be sure. I did them wrong when I thought them unskilled. Now I know why it could not succeed. I will tell you, Agathon; – Mamas was a false saint.

Agathon.

Was holy Mamas?

Prince Julian.

That Mamas was never a martyr. The whole legend of him was a strange error. Hecebolius has, with exceedingly great learning, discovered the true connection, and I myself have lately composed a humble treatise on this matter, a treatise, my Agathon, which certain friends of wisdom, incomprehensibly enough, are said to have spoken of with praise in the lecture-halls. –

May the Lord keep my heart pure of all vanity! The evil tempter has countless secret paths; one can never know –.

That it should succeed for Gallus, but not for me! Alas, my Agathon, when I think of that church-building, I see Cain's altar –

Agathon.

Julian!

Prince Julian.

God will have nothing to do with me, Agathon!

Agathon.

Oh, do not speak so! Was not God strong in you when you led me out of the darkness of heathendom and gave me light for all time, – you, a child, as you then were!

Prince Julian.

Yes, that matter is to me like a dream.

Agathon.

And yet so blessed a truth.

Prince Julian (heavily).

Would it were now! – Where did I take the fire of the word from? There was a hymn in the air, – a ladder between heaven and earth – – (stares out.) Did you see it?

Agathon.

Which?

Prince Julian.

The star that fell; there, behind the two cypresses. (is silent a moment and suddenly changes tone.) – Have I told you what my mother dreamed the night before I was born?

Agathon.

That I do not remember.

Prince Julian.

No, no, that is true, I learned of it only later.

Agathon.

What did she dream?

Prince Julian.

My mother dreamed that she gave birth to Achilles.

Agathon (eagerly).

Do you still believe as strongly in dreams?

Prince Julian.

Why do you ask?

Agathon.

You shall hear; for it is bound up with that which drove me over the sea –

Prince Julian.

You have a special errand here? I had not thought to ask you about it at all –

Agathon.

A strange errand; and just for that reason I hesitate in doubt and unrest. There is so much I would gladly know first, – about life in the city, – about yourself, – about the emperor –

Prince Julian (looks fixedly at him).

Tell the truth, Agathon; – with whom have you spoken here before you met me?

Agathon.

With no one.

Prince Julian.

When did you come?

Agathon.

I told you before, – two days ago.

Prince Julian.

And at once you want to know –? What sort of things do you want to know about the emperor? Is there someone who has bidden you –? (throws his arms about him.) Oh, forgive me, Agathon, friend!

Agathon.

What? What thing?

Prince Julian (rises and listens).

Hush! – No, it was nothing; it was only a bird in the bushes. – –

I am very happy here. Why do you not believe it? Why should I not be happy? Have I not here all my kin gathered? Yes, I mean – all those over whom a merciful saviour has held his hand.

Agathon.

And the emperor is to you, after all, in a father's place?

Prince Julian.

The emperor is beyond all measure wise and good.

Agathon, (who has also risen).

Julian, is the rumour true that you are one day to be the emperor's successor?

Prince Julian (hastily).

Speak not of those dangerous things. I do not know what foolish rumours tell. – Why do you question me so much? Not a word will you get out of me before you tell me what you want in Constantinople.

Agathon.

I come on behalf of the Lord God.

Prince Julian.

If you hold dear your saviour and your salvation, then go home again. (listens out over the railing.) Speak softly; a boat is putting in there. –

(he draws him over toward the other side.)

What do you want here? To kiss the splinter of the holy cross? – Go home again, I say! Do you know what Constantinople has become in the last fifteen months? A Babylon of blasphemy. – Have you not heard it, – do you not know that Libanius is here?

Agathon.

Alas, Julian, I do not know Libanius.

Prince Julian.

You solitary Cappadocian! Happy region, where his voice and teaching have not struck down.

Agathon.

Ah, he is one of those heathen false teachers –?

Prince Julian.

The most dangerous of them all.

Agathon.

Yet not more dangerous than Aedesius in Pergamon?

Prince Julian.

Eh, what; – who thinks any longer of Aedesius in Pergamon? Aedesius is decrepit –

Agathon.

Is he more dangerous, too, than that enigmatic Maximus?

Prince Julian.

Maximus! Speak not of that mountebank. Who knows anything reliable about Maximus?

Agathon.

He claims to have slept three years in a cave beyond the Jordan.

Prince Julian.

Hecebolius holds him to be an impostor, and in that he is surely not much in the wrong. – –

No, no, Agathon, – Libanius is the most dangerous. Our sinful earth has, as it were, writhed under this scourge. Signs went before his coming. A plague-like sickness murdered people right and left in the city. And then, when it was over, in the month of November, fire rained here every night from the sky. You must not doubt, Agathon! I have myself seen the stars loosen themselves from their rings, sink down toward the earth and go out on the way. –

Since then he has taught here, he, the lover of wisdom, the orator. All call him the king of the teachers of eloquence. Yes, well they may. I tell you, he is terrible. Youths and men throng about him; he binds their souls, so that they must follow him; denial flows beguiling from his lips, like poem and song of Trojans and Greeks –

Agathon (in terror).

Oh, you too have sought him out, Julian!

Prince Julian (draws back).

I! – God shield me from such a thing! Should certain rumours come to your ears, then put no faith in them. It is not true that I have sought Libanius out by night or in disguise. His nearness would be a horror to me. The emperor, moreover, has forbidden it, and Hecebolius still more urgently. – All the faithful who come near this subtle man fall away and become mockers. And not they alone. His words are carried from mouth to mouth right into the imperial palace. His playful scorn, his irrefutable reasons, his lampoons strike down into my prayer; – all this together is to me like those monsters in bird-shape that of old befouled the food of a pious wandering hero. I sometimes feel with horror that I am sickened by the food of faith and the word – (with an outburst of unruliness.) Had I imperial power, I would send you Libanius's head on a silver platter!

Agathon.

But how is it possible that the emperor tolerates this? How can our pious, believing emperor –?

Prince Julian.

The emperor? Praised be the emperor's faith and piety! But the emperor has no thought for anything but the wretched Persian war. It fills every mind. No one heeds the war that is waged here against the Prince of Golgotha. Ah, my Agathon, it is not now as it was two years ago. In those days the mystic Maximus's two brothers had to pay with their lives for their false doctrines. You do not know what mighty supporters Libanius has. Some one or other of the lesser teachers of wisdom is now and then driven out of the city. Him no one dares to touch. I have urged, I have implored both Hecebolius and the empress to work for his expulsion. But no, no! – What good does it do that the others are removed? This one man poisons the air for us all. Oh, you my saviour, if I could flee from all this heathen abomination! To live here is to live in the lion's den –

Agathon (eagerly).

Julian, – what did you say there!

Prince Julian.

Yes, yes; only a miracle can free us.

Agathon.

Oh, then listen! That miracle has happened.

Prince Julian.

What do you mean?

Agathon.

You shall hear it, Julian; for now I dare no longer doubt that it is you whom it concerns. What drove me to Constantinople was a vision –

Prince Julian.

A vision, you say!

Agathon.

A holy revelation –

Prince Julian.

Oh, for the sake of God's grace, speak! – Hush; speak not. Wait; someone is coming. Stand here; quite indifferent; – act as if nothing were amiss.

(they both remain standing by the railing.)

(A tall, handsome middle-aged man, dressed, after the manner of the teachers of wisdom, in a short cloak, comes through the avenue from the left. A throng of youths accompanies him, all in kilted-up garments, with ivy-wreaths in their hair and carrying books, papers and parchments. Laughter and loud-voiced conversation among the newcomers.)

The teacher of wisdom.

Lose nothing in the water, my merry Gregory! Remember, what you carry is worth more than gold.

Prince Julian (who stands close by him).

By your leave, – is there any tangible good worth more than gold?

The teacher of wisdom.

Can you buy back the fruits of your life with gold?

Prince Julian.

True; true. But if that is so, you ought not to trust yourself to the faithless waters.

The teacher of wisdom.

Men's favour is more faithless.

Prince Julian.

That word was wisdom. And where do you sail, then, with your treasures?

The teacher of wisdom.

To Athens.

(he is about to pass by.)

Prince Julian (with suppressed laughter).

To Athens? Oh, rich sir, then you do not own your own riches.

The teacher of wisdom (stops).

How so?

Prince Julian.

Is it a wise man's work to carry owls to Athens?

The teacher of wisdom.

My owls do not agree with the church-light in the imperial city. (to one of the young men.) Give me your hand, Sallust!

(he is about to step down.)

Sallust the student (halfway down the stair, softly).

By the gods, it is he!

The teacher of wisdom.

He –?

Sallust the student.

As sure as I live! I know him; – I have seen him walking with Hecebolius.

The teacher of wisdom.

Ah!

(he regards Julian with hidden attention; then he steps a pace nearer and says):

You smiled just now. What did you smile at?

Prince Julian.

When you complained of the church-light, I wondered whether it was not rather the king-light in the lecture-hall that cut too sharply into your eyes.

The teacher of wisdom.

Envy finds no room beneath the short cloak.

Prince Julian.

What finds no room sticks out.

The teacher of wisdom.

You have a sharp tongue, noble Galilean!

Prince Julian.

Why Galilean? What is my Galilean mark?

The teacher of wisdom.

The court dress.

Prince Julian.

I am a friend of wisdom underneath; for I wear a very coarse shirt. – But tell me, what do you seek in Athens?

The teacher of wisdom.

What did Pontius Pilate seek?

Prince Julian.

Eh, what! Is the truth not here, where Libanius is?

The teacher of wisdom (looks fixedly at him).

Hm! – Libanius, yes! Libanius will soon fall silent. Libanius is weary of the strife, sir!

Prince Julian.

Weary? He, – the invulnerable, the ever-victorious –?

The teacher of wisdom.

He is weary of waiting for his equal.

Prince Julian.

Now you jest, stranger! Where can Libanius think to find his equal?

The teacher of wisdom.

His equal exists.

Prince Julian.

Who? Where? Name him!

The teacher of wisdom.

That might be dangerous.

Prince Julian.

Why?

The teacher of wisdom.

Are you not a courtier?

Prince Julian.

And what of that?

The teacher of wisdom (more softly).

Have you yourself the audacity to praise the emperor's successor?

Prince Julian (deeply shaken).

Ah!

The teacher of wisdom (quickly).

If you betray me, then I deny everything!

Prince Julian.

I betray no one. Surely, surely not! – The emperor's successor, you say? I do not know whom you mean; – the emperor has chosen none. – But why that jest? Why did you speak of Libanius's equal?

The teacher of wisdom.

Yes or no, – does there live at the imperial court a youth who, by force and harsh commands, through prayers and persuasions, is kept far from the light of the lecture-hall?

Prince Julian (in haste.)

Such things are done to keep his faith pure!

The teacher of wisdom (smiles).

Has this young man so little faith in his faith? What does he know of his faith? What does a warrior know of his shield before it has shielded him?

Prince Julian.

True, true; – but it is loving kinsmen and teachers, you hear –

The teacher of wisdom.

Empty phrases, sir! I will tell you. It is for the emperor's sake that his young kinsman is kept away from the friends of wisdom. The emperor has not the divine gift of the word. The emperor is great in other respects; but he cannot bear that his successor should shine over the realm –

Prince Julian (bewildered.)

And that you dare –!

The teacher of wisdom.

Yes, yes, you grow wroth on your ruler's behalf, but –

Prince Julian.

Far from it; on the contrary –; yes, that is to say – –

Listen, I stand fairly close to this young prince. It would be dear to me to learn –

(turns.)

Go further aside, Agathon; I must speak in private with this man.

(withdraws a few paces with the stranger.)

You said shine? Shine over the realm? What do you know, what do you all know of Prince Julian?

The teacher of wisdom.

Can Sirius be hidden by a cloud? Will not the driving wind tear a rift here or there in the cloud, so that it –

Prince Julian.

Plainly; I beg you.

The teacher of wisdom.

The palace and the church are like a double cage, in which the prince is held captive. The cage is not tight enough. Now and then he lets a strange word fall; – the court-vermin – forgive me, sir – the courtiers carry it out, to mock it; the deep meaning is not there for these gentlemen, – forgive me, sir, – for most of them it is not there.

Prince Julian.

For none. You may safely say, for none.

The teacher of wisdom.

For you it seems to be, though. And in any case for us. – –

Yes, he could shine over the realm! Is there not a tale of him from his boyhood years in Cappadocia, when in a war of words with his brother Gallus he took the gods' part and defended them against the Galilean?

Prince Julian.

That was jest, exercises in speech –

The teacher of wisdom.

What has Mardonius not recorded of him? And Hecebolius since! What art there already lay in the boy's speech, – what beauty, what grace in the light play of his thoughts!

Prince Julian.

And it seems so to you?

The teacher of wisdom.

Yes, well might he become an adversary to us, one whom we both must fear and long for. What does he lack to reach so honourable a height? Does he lack anything but to go through the same school that Paul went through, and which he came through so unscathed that he could afterward join the Galileans, shining more than all the other preachers together, because he had knowledge and eloquence! Hecebolius fears for his pupil's faith. Oh, I know it well; it is from him it comes. But does he forget, then, this over-scrupulous man, that he himself in his youth drank of the springs that he now would stop up for his pupil? Or is it not with us that he learned to wield those weapons of language which he now, with so highly lauded a skill, swings against us?

Prince Julian.

Oh, true; indisputably true!

The teacher of wisdom.

And what gifts, then, has this Hecebolius in comparison with the gifts that revealed themselves so wondrously in that princely child who, according to what is said, in Cappadocia, on the graves of the executed Galileans, preached a doctrine which I hold to be erroneous and which therefore wins acceptance all the harder, but which he nonetheless preached with such rapture of spirit that – if I dare believe a most widespread rumour – manifold children of his own age gave themselves under him and followed him as disciples! Ah, Hecebolius is, like the rest of you, – more envious than zealous; and so Libanius has waited in vain.

Prince Julian (grasps him by the arm).

What has Libanius said? For God's sake – I conjure you, let me know it!

The teacher of wisdom.

He has said all that you have just heard. And he has said more than that. He has said: behold that princely Galilean; he is the Achilles of the spirit.

Prince Julian.

Achilles! (more softly.) My mother's dream.

The teacher of wisdom.

Yonder, within the open lecture-halls, the battle stands. Day and gladness are over the strife and over the strivers. The arrows of the word whir; the sharp sword of wit crackles in the fray; the blessed gods sit smiling in the cloud –

Prince Julian.

Oh, away from me with your heathendom –

The teacher of wisdom.

– and the heroes go home to the camp, arm in arm, without rancour, with glowing cheeks, with the swelling stream of blood in every vein, with the spoils of knowledge and with leaves about their brows. Ah, where is Achilles? I do not see him. Achilles is wroth –

Prince Julian.

Achilles is unhappy! – But can I believe it! Oh, tell me –; my head reels –; all that Libanius has said?

The teacher of wisdom.

Why did Libanius come to Constantinople? Did he come hither for any other reason than to seek a certain youth's honouring friendship?

Prince Julian (tensely).

Speak the truth! No, no, this cannot be true. How should it be reconciled with all the scorn and mockery that –? One does not mock the man whose friendship one seeks.

The teacher of wisdom.

Galilean intrigues, to raise a wall of hatred and wrath between the two champions.

Prince Julian.

You will surely not deny that it was Libanius –?

The teacher of wisdom.

I will deny all such things to the uttermost.

Prince Julian.

The lampoons did not come from him?

The teacher of wisdom.

Not a single one. They have all together been made in the imperial palace and spread abroad under his name –

Prince Julian.

Ah, what do you say there –?

The teacher of wisdom.

What I dare maintain before whoever it may be. You have a sharp tongue; – who knows whether you yourself have not –

Prince Julian.

I –! But can I believe this? Libanius did not write them? None of them?

The teacher of wisdom.

No, no!

Prince Julian.

Not even that shameful poem about Atlas with the sloping shoulders?

The teacher of wisdom.

No, no, I say.

Prince Julian.

Nor that foolish and most insolent verse about the ape in court dress?

The teacher of wisdom.

Ha-ha; that is written in the church and not in the lecture-hall. You do not believe it? I tell you, it is Hecebolius –

Prince Julian.

Hecebolius!

The teacher of wisdom.

Yes, Hecebolius; Hecebolius himself, who, to sow strife between his enemy and his pupil –

Prince Julian (with clenched hands).

Ah, were it so!

The teacher of wisdom.

Had this blinded and deceived youth known us friends of wisdom, then he would not have dealt so harshly with us.

Prince Julian.

What are you speaking of?

The teacher of wisdom.

Now it is too late. Fare well, sir!

(he is about to go.)

Prince Julian (grasps his hand).

Friend and brother, – who are you?

The teacher of wisdom.

A man who sorrows because he sees the godborn go under.

Prince Julian.

What do you call the godborn?

The teacher of wisdom.

The uncreated in the changing.

Prince Julian.

Just as dark to me.

The teacher of wisdom.

There is a whole and glorious world to which you Galileans are blind. In it, existence is a festival among statues and beneath temple-songs, with brimming, foaming bowls and with roses in the hair. Dizzying bridges span from spirit to spirit, even to the farthest lights in space. –

I know one who could be ruler in this great sun-filled realm.

Prince Julian (in anguish).

Yes, with the shipwreck of his salvation!

The teacher of wisdom.

What is salvation? Reunion with the origin.

Prince Julian.

Yes, in conscious life; reunion for me, as the one I am!

The teacher of wisdom.

Reunion, like the raindrop's with the sea, like the crumbling leaf's with the earth that bred it.

Prince Julian.

Oh, had I learning! Had I weapons to lift against you!

The teacher of wisdom.

Fetch yourself weapons, young man! The lecture-hall is a fencing-hall of thoughts and faculties –

Prince Julian (drawing back).

Ah!

The teacher of wisdom.

See those merry youths over there. There are Galileans among them. Errors in divine matters cause no discord between us. –

Fare well! You Galileans have made truth an exile. See now how we bear the blows of fate. See us with leaves about our lifted brows. Thus we go away, – beguiling the night with song, and awaiting Helios.

(he steps down the stair, where the disciples have waited for him; then one hears the boat row away with them.)

Prince Julian (looks long out over the water).

Who was he, that enigmatic man?

Agathon (comes nearer).

Hear me, Julian –!

Prince Julian (in lively agitation).

He understood me! And Libanius himself; the great, incomparable Libanius –! Just think, Agathon, Libanius has said – –. Oh, how sharp the heathen eye must be!

Agathon.

This was a work of temptation, believe me!

Prince Julian (without heeding him).

I can bear it no longer among these people. From them, then, came those abominable lampoons! Here I am scorned; they laugh behind my back; here there is no one who believes in what I carry within me. They mimic me; they twist my gestures and my speech; Hecebolius himself –! Oh, I feel it, – Christ withdraws from me; I grow evil here.

Agathon.

Oh, you do not know it, – it is just you who are especially under grace.

Prince Julian (paces up and down by the railing).

I am the one Libanius would deign to fight with. What a strange wish! Libanius holds me to be his equal. It is me he waits for –

Agathon.

Hear and obey; Christ waits for you!

Prince Julian.

Friend, what do you mean?

Agathon.

The vision that drove me to Constantinople –

Prince Julian.

Yes, yes, the vision; I had nearly forgotten it. A revelation, you said? Oh, tell, tell!

Agathon.

It was at home in Cappadocia a month ago, or a little more. Then a rumour got abroad that the heathens had again begun to hold secret gatherings by night in Cybele's temple –

Prince Julian.

The foolhardy ones! It is strictly forbidden them, after all –

Agathon.

All the faithful rose up too in wrath. The authorities had the temple torn down, and we shattered the offensive idols. Yes, the more zealous among us were driven by the Lord's spirit to go further. With psalm-singing, and with holy banners borne before us, we went through the city and fell like wrath's messengers upon the ungodly; we took their treasures from them; many houses were set ablaze; many heathens perished in the fire; still more we slew as they fled in the streets. Oh, it was a great time, to God's glory!

Prince Julian.

And then? The vision, my Agathon!

Agathon.

For three full nights and days the lord of vengeance was strong in us. But behold, then the frailty of the flesh could no longer keep pace with the spirit's ardour, and we left off from the persecution. –

I lay on my couch; I could neither wake nor sleep. It seemed to me that I was hollow within and that the spirit had departed from me. I lay in burning heat; I tore my hair, I wept, I prayed, I sang; – I no longer know how it was. –

Then, all at once, I saw before me by the wall a white shining light, and in the gleam stood a man in an ankle-length robe. Rays went out from his head; he held a reed in his arm and fixed his eyes mildly upon me.

Prince Julian.

That you saw!

Agathon.

I saw it. And then he spoke and said: arise, Agathon; seek him who shall inherit the kingdom; bid him go into the den and wrestle with the lions.

Prince Julian.

Wrestle with the lions? Oh, strange, strange! – Ah, were it so –! The meeting with that wise man –. A revelation; a message to me –; I should be among the chosen?

Agathon.

That you surely are.

Prince Julian.

Wrestle with the lions! – Yes, I see it; – so it is, my Agathon! It is God's will that I shall seek Libanius –

Agathon.

No, no, hear me to the end!

Prince Julian.

– wheedle out of him his art and his learning, – fell the unbelievers with their own weapons, – strike, strike, like Paul, – conquer, like Paul, in the Lord's cause!

Agathon.

No, no, it is not so meant.

Prince Julian.

Can you doubt it? Libanius, – is he not mighty as the lion of the mountains, and is not the lecture-hall –?

Agathon.

I tell you, it is not so; for the figure added: proclaim to the chosen one that he shall shake the dust of the imperial city from his feet, and never again pass through its gates.

Prince Julian.

And of that you are certain, Agathon?

Agathon.

Yes, fully.

Prince Julian.

Then not here. Wrestle with the lions? Where, where? Oh, where shall I find light in this!

(Prince Gallus, a handsome, strongly built man of twenty-five, with fair curly hair and fully armed, comes through the avenue on the left side.)

Prince Julian (toward him).

Gallus!

Prince Gallus.

What good news? (points at Agathon.) Who is that man?

Prince Julian.

Agathon.

Prince Gallus.

Which Agathon? You seek the company of so many kinds –. Ah, by God, it is the Cappadocian! You have become a grown man –

Prince Julian.

Do you know, Gallus, – the emperor has asked after you.

Prince Gallus (tensely).

Now? Tonight?

Prince Julian.

Yes, yes; he wishes to speak with you. He seemed to be in the utmost wrath.

Prince Gallus.

How do you know that? What did he say?

Prince Julian.

I did not understand it. He wanted to know what an oracle had answered.

Prince Gallus.

Ah!

Prince Julian.

Conceal nothing from me. What is it about?

Prince Gallus.

It is a matter of death or banishment.

Agathon.

Merciful saviour!

Prince Julian.

What did I not suspect! Yet no, the empress was of good cheer. Oh, but speak, speak!

Prince Gallus.

What shall I say? Do I know more than you? If the emperor has hinted at an oracle, then a certain messenger must be imprisoned, or someone has betrayed me –

Prince Julian.

A messenger? – Gallus, what is it you have ventured!

Prince Gallus.

Oh, could I then any longer live this life in uncertainty and dread? Let him deal with me as he will; anything else is better than this –

Prince Julian (softly, leads him a few paces aside).

Careful, Gallus! What is this about the messenger?

Prince Gallus.

I have put a question to the priests of Osiris in Abydos –

Prince Julian.

Ah, the oracle! And this heathenry –!

Prince Gallus.

The heathenry one might well set aside; but – yes, now you may as well know it – I have asked about the outcome of the Persian war –

Prince Julian.

What madness! – Gallus, – I see it in you; you have asked about more!

Prince Gallus.

Stop; I have not asked –

Prince Julian.

Yes, yes; you have asked about a mighty man's life or death!

Prince Gallus.

And what if it were so? What lies closer to both our hearts than this?

Prince Julian (catches him by the arms).

Be still, you madman!

Prince Gallus.

Away from me! Go on and crawl before him, like a dog; – I am not minded to endure it any longer. I will scream it out in every marketplace – (cries to Agathon.) Have you seen him, Cappadocian? Have you seen the murderer?

Prince Julian.

Gallus! Brother!

Agathon.

The murderer!

Prince Gallus.

The murderer in the red cloak; my father's murderer, my stepmother's, my eldest brother's –

Prince Julian.

Oh, you call down destruction upon us!

Prince Gallus.

Eleven heads in a single night; eleven corpses; our whole kin. – Ah, but believe me, conscience tumbles him about; it trickles through his marrow-bones like a swarm of worms.

Prince Julian.

Do not listen to him! Away, away!

Prince Gallus (seizes Julian by the shoulder).

Stop; – you look so pale and distraught; is it perhaps you who have betrayed me?

Prince Julian.

I! Your own brother –!

Prince Gallus.

Ah, what brother, brother! Brotherhood shields no one in our kin. If you have secretly spied out my ways, then say so! Who else should it be? Do you not think I know what is whispered here? The emperor is thinking of you, after all, as his successor.

Prince Julian.

Never! I swear to you, beloved Gallus, it shall never happen! I will not. A stronger one has chosen me. – Oh, believe me, Gallus; my path is marked. I do not go that way, I tell you. Oh, you God of hosts, – I on the imperial throne; – no, no, no!

Prince Gallus.

Ha-ha; well played, mountebank!

Prince Julian.

Yes, well may you mock, you who do not know what has happened. I scarcely know it myself. Oh, Agathon, – were this head to be anointed! Would it not be an apostasy, – a sin unto death? Would not the Lord's holy oil burn me like dripping lead!

Prince Gallus.

Then our exalted kinsman would have to be balder than Julius Caesar.

Prince Julian.

Do not transgress –! Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's –

Prince Gallus.

My father's blood, – your father's and your mother's –!

Prince Julian.

Oh, what do we know of those horrors? We were small then. Most of it was the soldiers' fault; it was the rebels, – evil counsellors –

Prince Gallus (laughs).

The successor is practising!

Prince Julian (in tears).

Oh, Gallus, would that I might die or be driven out in your stead! I am forfeiting my soul here. I ought to forgive, – and I cannot. The evil grows in me; hatred and vengeance whisper –

Prince Gallus (quickly, looks toward the church).

Now he is coming!

Prince Julian.

Be composed, precious brother! – Ah, Hecebolius!

(The church door has meanwhile been opened. The congregation streams out; some go away, others remain standing outside to watch the court pass by. Among the newcomers is Hecebolius the scripture-scholar; he wears priestly garb.)

Hecebolius the scripture-scholar (as he is about to pass by to the left).

Is it you, my Julian? Alas, I have once again had a heavy hour for your sake.

Prince Julian.

Unhappily; that you have surely had all too often.