ACT FIFTH.
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?
Anatolus.
See you the quivering air on the horizon, to the north, east, and south?
Kytron.
Of course, of course; that is the heat——
Anatolus.
It is the desert burning.
Priscus.
What say you? The desert burning?
Kytron.
Do not jest so unpleasantly, good Anatolus! Tell us,—what is it?
Anatolus.
The desert burning, I tell you. Out yonder, where the sand ceases, the Persians have set the grass on fire. We can make no progress till the ground cools.
Kytron.
Oh is not this appalling! What barbarians! To have recourse to such means——!
Priscus.
Then there is no choice left us. Without provisions, without water——; why do we not retreat?
Anatolus.
Over the Tigris and Euphrates?
Kytron.
And the fleet burnt! What way is this to conduct the war? Oh, why does not the Emperor think more of his friends! How shall I get home again?
Anatolus.
Like the rest of us, friend!
Kytron.
Like the rest? Like the rest! That is a fine way to talk. With you it is quite another matter. You are soldiers. ’Tis your calling to endure certain hardships to which I am not at all accustomed. I did not join the Emperor’s suite to go through all this. Here am I tortured with gnats and poisonous flies;—look at my hands!
Priscus.
Most certainly we did not come for this. We consented to accompany the army in order to compose panegyrics on the victories the Emperor intended to win. What has come of these victories? What has been achieved during the six toilsome weeks since the fleet was burnt? We have destroyed a few deserted towns of the sorriest kind. A few prisoners have been exhibited in the camp, whom the advance-guard are said to have taken—truly I know not in what battles! The prisoners, methought, looked more like poor kidnapped shepherds and peasants——
Kytron.
And to think of burning the fleet! Said I not from the first that it would be a source of disaster?
Anatolus.
I did not hear you say so.
Kytron.
What? Did I not say so? Oh Priscus, did you not hear me say it?
Priscus.
Truly, I do not know, friend; but I know that I myself in vain denounced that luckless measure. Indeed I may say that I opposed the whole campaign at this time of year. What rash haste! Where were the Emperor’s eyes? Is this the same hero who fought with such marvellous success upon the Rhine? One would think he had been struck with blindness or some spiritual disease.
Anatolus.
Hush, hush;—what talk is this?
Kytron.
’Twas indeed no fitting way for our Priscus to express himself. Yet I, too, cannot deny that I observe a deplorable lack of wisdom in many of the crowned philosopher’s recent proceedings. How precipitate to set up his busts in the camp, and claim worship as if he were a god! How imprudent so openly to scoff at that strange teacher from Nazareth, who undeniably possesses a peculiar power, which might have stood us in good stead in these perilous conjunctures.
Ah! here comes Nevita himself. Now we shall hear——
[Nevita comes out of the tent. In the opening he turns and makes a sign to some one within. The physician Oribases immediately comes out.
Nevita.
[Drawing him aside.] Tell me openly, Oribases,—is there anything amiss with the Emperor’s mind?
Oribases.
What should make you think that, sir?
Nevita.
How else can I interpret his conduct?
Oribases.
Oh my beloved Emperor——!
Nevita.
Oribases, you must hide nothing from me.
Kytron.
[Drawing near.] Oh valiant general, if it be not indiscreet——
Nevita.
Presently, presently!
Oribases.
[To Nevita.] Do not fear, sir! No misfortune shall happen. Eutherius and I have promised each other to keep an eye upon him.
Nevita.
Ah, you do not mean to say that——?
Oribases.
Last night he had well nigh shortened his life. Fortunately Eutherius was at hand——; oh speak of it to no one!
Nevita.
Do not lose sight of him.
Priscus.
[Drawing near.] It would greatly relieve our minds to hear what the council of war——?
Nevita.
Pardon me; I have weighty matters to attend to.
[He goes out behind the tent.
At the same moment Jovian enters from the opening.
Jovian.
[Speaking into the tent.] It shall be done, my gracious Emperor!
Kytron.
Ah, most excellent Jovian! Well? Is the retreat decided on?
Jovian.
I would not counsel any one to call it a retreat.
[He goes out behind the tent.
Kytron.
Oh these soldiers! A philosopher’s peace of mind is nothing to them. Ah!
[The Emperor Julian comes out of the tent; he is pale and haggard. With him come the Chamberlain Eutherius and several officers; the latter go off over the plain to the right.
Julian.
[To the philosophers.] Rejoice, my friends! All will soon be well now.
Kytron.
Ah, gracious Emperor, have you discovered an expedient?
Julian.
There are expedients enough, Kytron; the only difficulty is to choose the best. We will slightly alter the line of advance——
Priscus.
Oh, praise be to your wisdom!
Julian.
This eastward march—it leads to nothing.
Kytron.
No, no, that is certain!
Julian.
Now we will turn northward, Kytron!
Kytron.
What, sire,—northward?
Priscus.
Not westward?
Julian.
Not westward. Not by any means westward. That might be difficult on account of the rivers. And Ctesiphon we must leave till another time. Without ships we cannot think of taking the city. It was the Galileans who brought about the burning of the fleet; I have noted one thing and another.
Who dares call this northward movement a retreat? What know you of my plans? The Persian army is somewhere in the north; of that we are now pretty well assured. When I have crushed Sapor—one battle will finish the matter—we shall find abundant supplies in the Persian camp.
When I lead the Persian king as my captive through Antioch and the other cities, I would fain see whether the citizens will not fall at my feet.
Christian Soldiers.
[Pass singing over the plain.
Doomed is the world’s proud cedar-tree,
The axe shall its roots dissever;
The palm He planted on Calvary,
Blood-watered, shall bloom for ever.
Julian.
[Following them with his eyes.] The Galileans are always singing. Songs about death and wounds and pain. Those women whom I brought with me to tend the sick—they have done us more harm than good. They have taught the soldiers strange songs, such as I have never heard before.
But hereafter I will punish no one for such things. It does but lead them deeper into error. Know you, Priscus, what happened of late, in the case of those mutineers who refused to show due reverence to the imperial busts?
Priscus.
Of late, sire?
Julian.
When, wishing to beget a wholesome dread in their companions in error, I ordered some of these men to be executed, the oldest of them stepped forward with loud cries of joy, and begged to be the first to die.—Look you, Priscus—when I heard that yesterday——
Priscus.
Yesterday? Oh, sire, you are mistaken. That happened forty days ago.
Julian.
So long? Yes, yes, yes! The Hebrews had to wander forty years in the wilderness. All the older generation had to die out. A new generation had to spring up; but they—mark that!—they entered into the promised land.
Eutherius.
’Tis late in the day, sire; will you not eat?
Julian.
Not yet, my Eutherius. ’Tis good for all men to mortify the flesh.
Yes, I tell you, we must make haste to become a new generation. I can do nothing with you as you are. If you would escape from the desert, you must lead a pure life. Look at the Galileans. We might learn more than one lesson from these men. There are none poverty-stricken and helpless among them; they live together as brethren and sisters,—and most of all now, when their obstinacy has forced me to chastise them. These Galileans, you must know, have something in their hearts which I could greatly desire that you should emulate. You call yourselves followers of Socrates, of Plato, of Diogenes. Is there one of you who would face death with ecstasy for Plato’s sake? Would our Priscus sacrifice his left hand for Socrates? Would Kytron, for Diogenes’ sake, let his ear be cut off? No, truly! I know you, whited sepulchres! Begone out of my sight;—I can do nothing with you!
[The philosophers slink away; the others also disperse, whispering anxiously. Only Oribases and Eutherius remain behind with the Emperor. Anatolus, the officer of the guard, still stands with his soldiers outside the tent.
Julian.
How strange! Is it not inconceivable, unfathomable? Oribases,—can you rede me this riddle?
Oribases.
What riddle do you mean, my Emperor?
Julian.
With twelve poor ignorant fishermen, he founded all this.
Oribases.
Oh sire, these thoughts exhaust you.
Julian.
And who has held it together until this day? Women and ignorant people, for the most part——
Oribases.
Yes, yes, sire; but now the campaign will soon take a happy turn——
Julian.
Very true, Oribases; as soon as fortune has taken a turn, all will be well. The dominion of the carpenter’s son is drawing to its close; we know that. His reign is to last as many years as the year has days; and now we have——
Eutherius.
My beloved master, would not a bath refresh you?
Julian.
Do you think so?—You may go, Eutherius! Go, go! I have something to say to Oribases.
[Eutherius goes off behind the tent. The Emperor draws Oribases over to the other side.
Julian.
Has Eutherius told you aught this morning?
Oribases.
No, sire!
Julian.
Has he told you nothing about last night——?
Oribases.
No, my Emperor—nothing at all. Eutherius is very silent.
Julian.
If he should tell you anything, do not believe it. The thing did not happen at all as he pretends. ’Tis he who is seeking my life.
Oribases.
He,—your old and faithful servant!
Julian.
I shall keep an eye on him.
Oribases.
I too.
Julian.
We will both keep an eye on him.
Oribases.
Sire, I fear you had but little sleep last night.
Julian.
Very little.
[Oribases is on the point of saying something, but changes his mind.
Julian.
Know you what kept me from sleeping?
Oribases.
No, my Emperor.
Julian.
The victor of the Milvian Bridge was with me.
Oribases.
The great Constantine?
Julian.
Yes. For some nights past his shade has given me no rest. He comes a little after midnight, and does not depart until the dawn is at hand.
Oribases.
The moon is full, sire; that has always had a strange effect on your mind.
Julian.
According to the ancients, such apparitions are wont——What can have become of Maximus? But their opinions are by no means to be relied on. We see how greatly they erred in many things. Even what they tell us of the gods we cannot believe without reserve. Nor what they report as to the shades, and the powers, as a whole, which rule the destinies of men. What know we of these powers? We know nothing, Oribases, except their capriciousness and inconstancy, of which characteristics we have evidence enough.
I wish Maximus would come——
[To himself.
Here? ’Tis not here that the menacing storm is drawing up. ’Twas said to be in the Phrygian regions——
Oribases.
What regions, sire,—and what storm?
Julian.
Oh nothing—nothing.
Nevita.
[Enters from the plain on the right.] My Emperor, the army is now on the march.
Julian.
Northwards?
Nevita.
[Starts.] Of course, sire!
Julian.
We ought to have waited till Maximus——
Nevita.
What mean you, my Emperor? There is nothing to wait for. We are without supplies; scattered bands of the enemy’s horsemen are already appearing both in the east and in the south——
Julian.
Yes, yes, we must advance,—northwards. Maximus must soon be here. I have sent to the rear for the Etruscan soothsayers; they shall try once more—— I have also discovered some Magians, who say they are well versed in the Chaldean mysteries. Our own priests are taking the omens in nine different places——
Nevita.
Sire, whatever the omens may say, I tell you we must go hence. The soldiers are no longer to be depended on; they see clearly that our only hope lies in reaching the Armenian mountains.
Julian.
We will do so, Nevita,—whatever the omens say. Nevertheless it gives one a great feeling of security to know that one is acting, as it were, in concert with those unfathomable powers who, if they will, can so potently influence our destinies.
Nevita.
[Goes from him, and says shortly and decisively.] Anatolus, strike the Emperor’s tent!
[He whispers some words to the Captain of the Guard, and goes out to the right.
Julian.
All auguries for these forty days have been inauspicious; and that proves that we may place trust in them; for in all that time our affairs have made but scant headway. But now, you see, my Oribases,—now that I have a fresh enterprise in view——
Ah! Maximus!
Maximus.
[Entering from the plain.] The army is already on the march, sire; get to horse!
Julian.
The auguries—the auguries?
Maximus.
Oh—the auguries! Ask not about the auguries.
Julian.
Speak! I demand to know what they say.
Maximus.
All auguries are silent.
Julian.
Silent?
Maximus.
I went to the priests; the entrails of the sacrifices gave no sign. I went to the Etruscan jugglers; the flight and cries of the birds said nothing. I went also to the Magians; their writings had no answer to give. And I myself——
Julian.
You yourself, my Maximus?
Maximus.
Now I can tell you. Last night I studied the aspect of the stars. They told me nothing, Julian.
Julian.
Nothing.—Silence—silence, as though in an eclipse. Alone! No longer any bridge between me and the spirits.
Where are you now, oh white-sailed fleet, that sped to and fro in the sunlight and carried tidings between earth and heaven?
The fleet is burnt. That fleet too is burnt. Oh all my shining ships.
Tell me, Maximus—what do you believe as to this?
Maximus.
I believe in you.
Julian.
Yes, yes—believe!
Maximus.
The world-will has resigned its power into your hands; therefore it is silent.
Julian.
So will we read it. And we must act accordingly,—although we might have preferred that—— This silence! To stand so utterly alone.
But there are others who may also be said to stand almost alone. The Galileans. They have but one god; and one god is next thing to no god.
How is it, then, that we daily see these men——?
Anatolus.
[Who has meanwhile had the tent struck.] My Emperor, now must you get to horse; I dare not let you remain here longer.
Julian.
Yes, now I will mount. Where is my good Babylonius? See now; sword in hand——
Come, my dear friends!
[All go out to the right.
SCENE SECOND.
A marshy, wooded country. A dark, still lake among the trees. Watch-fires in the distance. Moonlight, with driving clouds.
Several soldiers on guard in the foreground.
Makrina and the Women.
[Singing without, on the left.
Woe to us! Woe!
Upon us all
God’s wrath will fall!
Death we shall know!
One of the Soldiers.
[Listening.] Hark! Do you hear? The Galilean women are singing over yonder.
Another Soldier.
They sing like owls and night ravens.
A third Soldier.
Yet would I willingly be with them. ’Tis safer with the Galileans than with us. The God of the Galileans is stronger than our gods.
The first Soldier.
The thing is that the Emperor has angered the gods. How could he think of setting himself up in their place?
The third Soldier.
What is worse is that he has angered the Galileans’ God. Have you not heard, they say positively that, a few nights since, he and his magician ripped open a pregnant woman, to read omens in her entrails?
The first Soldier.
Ay, but I do not believe it. At any rate, I am sure ’twas not a Greek woman; it must have been a barbarian.
The third Soldier.
They say the Galileans’ God cares for the barbarians too; and if so, ’twill be the worse for us.
The second Soldier.
Oh, pooh—the Emperor is a great soldier.
The first Soldier.
They say King Sapor is a great soldier too.
The second Soldier.
Think you we have the whole Persian army before us?
The first Soldier.
Some say ’tis only the advance-guard; no one knows for certain.
The third Soldier.
I would I were among the Galileans.
The first Soldier.
Are you going over to them, too?
The third Soldier.
So many are going over. In the last few days——
The first Soldier.
[Calling out into the darkness.] Halt—halt! Who goes there?
A Voice.
Friends from the outposts!
[Several soldiers come from among the trees, with Agathon the Cappadocian in their midst.
The second Soldier.
Ho-ho; a deserter.
One of the New-comers.
No; he has gone out of his mind.
Agathon.
I have not gone out of my mind. Oh, for God’s great mercy’s sake,—let me go!
The Soldier from the Outposts.
He says he wants to slay a beast with seven heads.
Agathon.
Yes, yes, yes, I will, I will. Oh, let me go! See you this spear? Know you what spear it is? With this spear will I slay the beast with seven heads, and then I shall get back my soul again. Christ himself has promised me that. He was with me to-night.
The first Soldier.
Hunger and weariness have turned his brain.
One of the New-comers.
To the camp with him; there he can sleep his weariness away.
Agathon.
Let me go! Oh, if you but knew what spear this is!
[The soldiers lead him off by the front, to the right.
The third Soldier.
What could he mean by that beast?
The first Soldier.
That is one of the Galilean secrets. They have many such secrets among them.
[Eutherius and Oribases enter hastily from the right, looking anxiously about.
Eutherius.
Do you not see him?
Oribases.
No.—Ah, soldiers!—Tell me, good friends, has any one passed by here?
The first Soldier.
Yes, a detachment of spearmen.
Oribases.
Good, good! But nobody else? No great person? None of the generals?
The Soldiers.
No, none.
Oribases.
Not here then! Oh, Eutherius, how could you——?
Eutherius.
Could I help——? Could I help it——? I have not closed my old eyes for three nights——
Oribases.
[To the soldiers.] You must help us to search. I demand it in the name of the general-in-chief. Spread yourselves among the trees; and should you find any great person, report it at the watch-fire yonder.
The Soldiers.
We will not fail, sir!
[They all go out by different ways, to the left. Soon after, the Emperor emerges from behind a tree on the right. He listens, looks round, and beckons to some one behind him.
Julian.
Hist! Come forward, Maximus! They did not see us.
Maximus.
[From the same side.] Oribases was one of them.
Julian.
Yes, yes; both he and Eutherius keep watch on me. They imagine that—— Has neither of them told you aught?
Maximus.
No, my Julian! But why have you awakened me? What would you here in the darkness?
Julian.
I would be alone with you for the last time, my beloved teacher!
Maximus.
Not for the last time, Julian!
Julian.
See that dark water. Think you—if I utterly vanished from the earth, and my body was never found, and none knew what had become of me,—think you the report would spread abroad that Hermes had come for me, and carried me away, and that I had been exalted to the fellowship of the gods?
Maximus.
The time is at hand when men will not need to die, in order to live as gods on the earth.
Julian.
I am pining with home-sickness, Maximus,—with home-sick longing for the light and the sun and all the stars.
Maximus.
Oh, I beseech you—think not of sorrowful things. The Persian army is before you. To-morrow will come the battle. You will conquer——
Julian.
I—conquer? You do not know who was with me an hour ago.
Maximus.
Who was with you?
Julian.
I had fallen asleep on my couch in the tent. Suddenly I was awakened by a strong red glare, that seemed to burn through my closed eye-lids. I looked up and beheld a figure standing in the tent. Over its head was a long drapery, falling on both sides, so as to leave the face free.
Maximus.
Knew you this figure?
Julian.
It was the same face which I saw in the light that night at Ephesus, many years ago,—that night when we held symposium with the two others.
Maximus.
The spirit of the empire.
Julian.
Since then it has appeared to me once in Gaul,—on an occasion I would fain forget.
Maximus.
Did it speak?
Julian.
No. It seemed as though it wished to speak; but it did not. It stood motionless, looking at me. Its face was pale and distorted. Suddenly, with both arms, it drew the drapery together over its head, hid its face, and went straight out through the tent-wall.
Maximus.
The decisive hour is at hand.
Julian.
Ay, truly, ’tis at hand.
Maximus.
Courage, Julian! He who wills, conquers.
Julian.
And what does the conqueror win? Is it worth while to conquer? What has the Macedonian Alexander, what has Julius Caesar won? Greeks and Romans talk of their renown with cold admiration,—while the other, the Galilean, the carpenter’s son, sits throned as the king of love in the warm, believing hearts of men.
Where is he now?—Has he been at work elsewhere since that happened at Golgotha?
I dreamed of him lately. I dreamed that I had subdued the whole world. I ordained that the memory of the Galilean should be rooted out on earth; and it was rooted out.—Then the spirits came and ministered to me, and bound wings on my shoulders, and I soared aloft into infinite space, till my feet rested on another world.
It was another world than mine. Its curve was vaster, its light more golden, and many moons circled around it.
Then I looked down at my own earth—the Emperor’s earth, which I had made Galileanless—and I thought that all that I had done was very good.
But behold, my Maximus,—there came a procession by me, on the strange earth where I stood. There were soldiers, and judges, and executioners at the head of it, and weeping women followed. And lo!—in the midst of the slow-moving array, was the Galilean, alive, and bearing a cross on his back. Then I called to him, and said, “Whither away, Galilean?” But he turned his face toward me, smiled, nodded slowly, and said: “To the place of the skull.”
Where is he now? What if that at Golgotha, near Jerusalem, was but a wayside matter, a thing done, as it were, in passing, in a leisure hour? What if he goes on and on, and suffers, and dies, and conquers, again and again, from world to world?
Oh that I could lay waste the world! Maximus,—is there no poison, no consuming fire, that could lay creation desolate, as it was on that day when the spirit moved alone over the face of the waters?
Maximus.
I hear a noise from the outposts. Come, Julian——
Julian.
To think that century shall follow century, and that in them all shall live men, knowing that ’twas I who was vanquished, and he who conquered! I will not be vanquished! I am young; I am invulnerable,—the third empire is at hand——
[With a great cry.
There he stands!
Maximus.
Who? Where?
Julian.
Do you see him? There, among the tree-stems—in a crown and a purple robe——
Maximus.
’Tis the moon glimmering on the water. Come—come, my Julian!
Julian.
[Going threateningly towards the vision.] Avaunt! Thou art dead! Thy empire is past. Off with the juggler’s cloak, carpenter’s son!
What dost thou there? At what art thou hammering?—Ah!
Eutherius.
[From the left.] All gods be praised!—Oribases,—here, here!
Julian.
What has become of him?
Oribases.
[From the left.] Is he here?
Eutherius.
Yes.—Oh my beloved Emperor!
Julian.
Who was it that said, “I am hammering the Emperor’s coffin”?
Oribases.
What mean you, sire?
Julian.
Who spoke, I ask? Who was it that said, “I am hammering the Emperor’s coffin”?
Oribases.
Come with me to your tent, I implore you.
[Shouts and cries are heard far away.
Maximus.
War-cries! The Persians are upon us——
Eutherius.
There is already fierce fighting at the outposts.
Oribases.
The enemy is in the camp! Ah, sire, you are unarmed——!
Julian.
I will sacrifice to the gods.
Maximus.
To what gods, oh fool? Where are they—and what are they?
Julian.
I will sacrifice to this god and to that. I will sacrifice to many. One or another must surely hear me. I must call upon something without me and above me——
Oribases.
There is not a moment to be lost——!
Julian.
Ah—saw you the burning torch behind the cloud? It flashed forth and went out in the same instant. A message from the spirits! A shining ship between heaven and earth!—My shield! My sword!
[He rushes out to the right. Oribases and Eutherius follow him.
Maximus.
[Calling after him.] Emperor, Emperor—do not fight to-night!
[He goes off to the right.
SCENE THIRD.
An open plain, with a village far away. Daybreak and cloudy weather.
A noise of battle. Cries and the clashing of weapons out on the plain. In the foreground Roman spearmen, under Ammian’s command, fighting with Persian archers. The latter are driven back by degrees towards the left.
Ammian.
Right, right! Close with them! Thrust them down! Give them no time to shoot!
Nevita.
[With followers from the right.] Well fought, Ammian!
Ammian.
Oh sir, why come not the cavalry to our help?
Nevita.
They cannot. The Persians have elephants in their front rank. The very smell strikes terror to the horses. Thrust—thrust! Upwards, men,—under their breastplates?
Kytron.
[In night-clothes, laden with books and rolls of paper, enters from the right.] Oh that I should be in the midst of such horrors!
Nevita.
Have you seen the Emperor, friend?
Kytron.
Yes, but he heeds me not. Oh, I humbly beg for a detachment of soldiers to protect me!
Nevita.
[To his followers.] They are giving ground! The shield-bearers forward!
Kytron.
You do not listen to me, sir! My safety is of the utmost importance; my book, “On Equanimity in Affliction,” is not finished——
Nevita.
[As before.] The Persians have been reinforced on the right. They are pressing forward again!
Kytron.
Pressing forward again? Oh this bloodthirsty ferocity! An arrow! It almost struck me! How recklessly they shoot; no care for life or limb!
[He takes to flight by the foreground on the left.
Nevita.
The battle hangs in the balance. Neither side gains ground.
[To Fromentinus, who comes with a fresh troop from the right.
Ho, captain,—have you seen the Emperor?
Fromentinus.
Yes, sir; he is fighting at the head of the white horsemen.
Nevita.
Not wounded?
Fromentinus.
He seems invulnerable. Arrows and javelins swerve aside wherever he shows himself.
Ammian.
[Calling out from the thick of the fight.] Help, help; we can hold out no longer!
Nevita.
Forward, my bold Fromentinus!
Fromentinus.
[To the soldiers.] Shoulder to shoulder, and at them, Greeks!
[He hastens to the help of Ammian; the mellay rolls backwards a little.
Anatolus, the Captain of the Guard, enters
with followers from the right.
Anatolus.
Is not the Emperor here?
Nevita.
The Emperor! Is it not your business to answer for him?
Anatolus.
His horse was shot under him,—a terrible tumult arose; it was impossible to get near him——
Nevita.
Think you he has come to any harm?
Anatolus.
No, I think not. There was a cry that he was unhurt, but——
Many of Nevita’s Followers.
There he is! There he is!
The Emperor Julian, without helmet or armour, with only a sword and shield, escorted by soldiers of the Imperial Guard, enters from the right.
Julian.
’Tis well I have found you, Nevita!
Nevita.
Ah, sire—without armour; how imprudent——
Julian.
In these regions no weapon can touch me. But go, Nevita; take the supreme command; my horse was shot under me, and——
Nevita.
My Emperor, then after all you are hurt?
Julian.
No; only a blow on the head; a little dizzy. Go, go—— What is this? 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?
Anatolus.
Yes, sire, beyond a doubt.
Julian.
They are dead, yes! They know nought, then, either of the defeat at Jerusalem or the other defeats.—Think you many more Greeks will fall in the battle, Anatolus?
Anatolus.
Sire, let us hope the bloodiest work is over.
Julian.
Many, many more will fall, I tell you! But not enough. Of what use is it that many should fall? None the less will posterity learn——
Tell me, Anatolus, how think you the Emperor Caligula pictured to himself that sword?
Anatolus.
What sword, sire?
Julian.
You know he wished for a sword wherewith he might at one blow——
Anatolus.
Hark to the shouts, sire! Now I am sure the Persians are retreating.
Julian.
[Listening.] What song is that in the air?
Anatolus.
Sire, let me summon Oribases; or still better,—come,—come; you are sick!
Julian.
There is singing in the air. Can you not hear it?
Anatolus.
If it be so, it must be the Galileans——
Julian.
Ay, be sure ’tis the Galileans. Ha-ha-ha, they fight in our ranks, and see not who stands on the other side. Oh fools, all of you! Where is Nevita? Why should he attack the Persians? Can he not see that ’tis not the Persians who are most dangerous?—You betray me, all of you.
Anatolus.
[Softly to one of the soldiers.] Hasten to the camp; bring hither the Emperor’s physician?
[The soldier goes out to the right.
Julian.
What innumerable hosts! Think you they have caught sight of us, Anatolus?
Anatolus.
Who, sire? Where?
Julian.
Do you not see them—yonder—high up and far away! You lie! You see them well enough!
Anatolus.
By the immortal gods, they are only the morning clouds,—’tis the day dawning.
Julian.
’Tis the hosts of the Galilean, I tell you! Look—those in the red-edged garments are the martyrs who died in blood. Singing women surround them, and weave bowstrings of the long hair torn from their heads. Children are with them, twining slings from their unravelled entrails. Burning torches——! Thousandfold—multitudinous! They are hastening hitherward! They are all looking at me; all rushing straight upon me!
Anatolus.
’Tis the Persians, sire! Our ranks are giving way——
Julian.
They shall not give way!—You shall not! Stand fast, Greeks! Stand, stand, Romans! Today we will free the world!
[The battle has in the meantime swept forward over the plain again. Julian hurls himself with drawn sword into the thickest of the fight. General confusion.
Anatolus.
[Calling out to the right.] Help, help! The Emperor is in deadly peril!
Julian.
[Among the combatants.] I see him; I see him! A longer sword! Who has a longer sword to lend me?
Soldiers.
[Streaming in from the right.] With Christ for the Emperor!
Agathon.
[Among the new-comers.] With Christ for Christ!
[He throws his spear; it grazes the Emperor’s arm, and plunges into his side.
Julian.
Ah!
[He grasps the spear-head to draw it out, but gashes his hand, utters a loud cry and falls.
Agathon.
[Calls out in the tumult.] The Roman’s spear from Golgotha!
[He casts himself weaponless among the Persians, and is seen to be cut down.
Confused Cries.
The Emperor! Is the Emperor wounded?
Julian.
[Attempts to rise, but falls back again, and cries:] Thou hast conquered, Galilean!
Many Voices.
The Emperor has fallen!
Anatolus.
The Emperor is wounded! Shield him—shield him, in the name of the gods!
[He casts himself despairingly against the advancing Persians. The Emperor is carried away senseless. At that moment, Jovian comes forward upon the plain with fresh troops.
Jovian.
On—on, believing brethren; give Caesar what is Caesar’s!
Retreating Soldiers.
[Calling to him.] He has fallen! The Emperor has fallen!
Jovian.
Fallen! Oh mighty God of vengeance! On, on; ’tis God’s will that his people shall live! I see heaven open; I see the angels with flaming swords——
The Soldiers.
[Hurtling forward.] Christ is among us!
Ammian’s Troops.
The Galileans’ God is among us! Close round him! He is the strongest!
[A wild tumult of battle. Jovian hews his way into the enemy’s ranks. Sunrise. The Persians flee in all directions.
SCENE FOURTH.
The Emperor’s tent, with a curtained entrance in the background. Daylight.
The Emperor Julian lies unconscious on his couch. The wounds in his right side, arm, and hand are bound up. Close to him stand Oribases and Makrina, with Eutherius. Further back Basil of Caesarea, and Priscus. At the foot of the bed stands Maximus the Mystic.
Makrina.
He bleeds again. I must bind the bandage tighter.
Oribases.
Thanks to you, tender woman; your heedful hands do us good service here.
Eutherius.
Is it possible that he still lives?
Oribases.
Certainly he lives.
Eutherius.
But he does not breathe.
Oribases.
Yes, he breathes.
Ammian enters softly, with the Emperor’s sword and shield, which he lays down, and remains standing beside the curtain.
Priscus.
Ah, good captain, how go affairs without?
Ammian.
Better than here. Is he already——?
Priscus.
No, no, not yet. But is it certain that we have defeated the Persians?
Ammian.
Completely. It was Jovian who put them to flight. Three noblemen have even now arrived as envoys from King Sapor, to beg for a truce.
Priscus.
And think you Nevita will accede to it?
Ammian.
Nevita has yielded up the command to Jovian. All flock around him. All see in him our one hope of safety——
Oribases.
Speak low; he moves.
Ammian.
He moves. Mayhap he is awakening to consciousness! Oh, if he should live to see this!
Eutherius.
What, Ammian?
Ammian.
Both soldiers and leaders are taking counsel as to the choice of the new Emperor.
Priscus.
What say you?
Eutherius.
Oh, what shameful haste!
Ammian.
The perilous situation of the army partly excuses it; and yet——
Makrina.
He is waking;—he opens his eyes——
[Julian lies for a time quite still, looking kindly at the bystanders.
Oribases.
Sire, do you know me?
Julian.
Very well, my Oribases.
Oribases.
Only lie quiet.
Julian.
Lie quiet? You remind me! I must be up!
Oribases.
Impossible, sire; I implore you——
Julian.
I must up, I say. How can I lie quiet now? I must utterly vanquish Sapor.
Eutherius.
Sapor is vanquished, sire! He has sent envoys to the camp to beg for a truce.
Julian.
Has he, indeed? That is good news. So him, at least, I have conquered.
But no truce. I will crush him to the earth.—Ah, where is my shield? Have I lost my shield?
Ammian.
No, my Emperor,—here are both your shield and your sword.
Julian.
I am very glad of that. My good shield. I should grieve to think of it in the hands of the barbarians. Give it me, on my arm——
Makrina.
Oh, sire, ’tis too heavy for you now!
Julian.
Ah, you? You are right, pious Makrina; ’tis a little too heavy for me.—Lay it before me, that I may see it. What? Is that you, Ammian? Are you on guard here? Where is Anatolus?
Ammian.
Sire, he is now in bliss.
Julian.
Fallen? My trusty Anatolus fallen for my sake!—In bliss, you say? Ha——
One friend the less. Ah, my Maximus!—I will not receive the Persian king’s envoys to-day. Their design is merely to waste my time. But I will grant no terms. I will follow up the victory to the utmost. The army shall turn against Ctesiphon again.
Oribases.
Impossible, sire; think of your wounds.
Julian.
My wounds will soon be healed. Will they not, Oribases—do you not promise me——?
Oribases.
Above all things rest, sire!
Julian.
What a most untimely chance! Just at this moment, when so many weighty matters are crowding in upon me. I cannot leave these things in Nevita’s hands. In such matters I can trust neither him nor others; I must do all myself.—’Tis true, I feel somewhat weary. How unfortunate!—Tell me, Ammian, what is the name of that ill-omened place?
Ammian.
What place, my gracious Emperor?
Julian.
The spot where the Persian javelin struck me?
Ammian.
’Tis called after the village of Phrygia——
Maximus.
Ah!
Julian.
What is it called——? What say you the region is called?
Ammian.
’Tis called from the village over yonder, the Phrygian region.
Julian.
Ah, Maximus—Maximus!
Maximus.
Betrayed!
[He hides his face, and sinks down at the foot of the bed.
Oribases.
My Emperor, what alarms you?
Julian.
Nothing—nothing——
Phrygia? Is it so? Nevita and the others will have to take the command after all. Go, tell them——
Ammian.
Sire, they have already, on your behalf——
Julian.
Have they? Yes, yes, that is well.
The world-will has laid an ambush for me, Maximus!
Makrina.
Your wound bleeds afresh, sire!
Julian.
Oh, Oribases, why did you seek to hide it from me?
Oribases.
What did I seek to hide, my Emperor?
Julian.
That I must die. Why not have told me before.
Oribases.
Oh, my Emperor!
Basil.
Julian—Julian!
[He casts himself down, weeping, beside the bed.
Julian.
Basil,—friend, brother,—we two have lived beautiful days together——
You must not weep because I depart from you so young. ’Tis not always a sign of the Fates’ displeasure when they call a man away in his prime. What, after all, is death? ’Tis nought but paying our debt to the ever-changing empire of the dust. No lamentations! Do we not all love wisdom? And does not wisdom teach us that the highest bliss lies in the life of the soul, not in that of the body? So far the Galileans are right, although——; but we will not speak of that. Had the powers of life and death suffered me to finish a certain treatise, I think I should have succeeded in——
Oribases.
Oh my Emperor, does it not weary you to talk so much?
Julian.
No, no, no. I feel very light and free.
Basil.
Julian, my beloved brother,—is there nought you would recall?
Julian.
Truly I know not what it should be.
Basil.
Nothing to repent of, Julian?
Julian.
Nothing. That power which circumstances placed in my hands, and which is an emanation of divinity, I am conscious of having used to the best of my skill. I have never wittingly wronged any one. For this campaign there were good and sufficient reasons; and if some should think that I have not fulfilled all expectations, they ought in justice to reflect that there is a mysterious power without us, which in a great measure governs the issue of human undertakings.
Makrina.
[Softly to Oribases.] Oh listen—listen how heavily he breathes.
Oribases.
His voice will soon fail him.
Julian.
As to the choice of my successor, I presume not to give any advice.—You, Eutherius, will divide my possessions among those who have stood nearest to me. I do not leave much; for I have always held that a true philosopher——
What is this? Is the sun already setting?
Oribases.
Not so, my Emperor; ’tis still broad day.
Julian.
Strange! It seemed to me to turn quite dark——
Ah, wisdom—wisdom. Hold fast to wisdom, good Priscus! But be always armed against an unfathomable something without us, which——
Is Maximus gone?
Maximus.
No, my brother!
Julian.
My throat is burning. Can you not cool it?
Makrina.
A draught of water, sire?
[She holds a cup to his lips.
Oribases.
[Whispers to Makrina.] His wound bleeds inwardly.
Julian.
Do not weep. Let no Greek weep for me; I am ascending to the stars——
Beautiful temples—— Pictures—— But so far away.
Makrina.
Of what is he talking?
Oribases.
I know not; I think his mind is wandering.
Julian.
[With closed eyes.] ’Twas given to Alexander to enter in triumph—into Babylon.—I too will—— Beautiful wreath—crown’d youths—dancing maidens,—but so far away.
Beautiful earth,—beautiful life——
[He opens his eyes wide.
Oh, Helios, Helios—why didst thou betray me?
[He dies.
Oribases.
[After a pause.] That was death.
The Bystanders.
Dead—dead!
Oribases.
Yes, now he is dead.
[Basil and Makrina kneel in prayer. Eutherius veils his head. A sound of drums and trumpets is heard in the distance.
Shouts from the Camp.
Long live the Emperor Jovian!
Oribases.
Oh, heard you that shout?
Ammian.
Jovian is proclaimed Emperor.
Maximus.
[Laughing.] The Galilean Jovian! Yes—yes—yes!
Oribases.
Shameful haste! Before they knew that——
Priscus.
Jovian,—the victorious hero who has saved us all! The Emperor Jovian assuredly deserves a panegyric. I trust that crafty Kytron has not already——
[He hastens out.
Basil.
Forgotten, ere your hand is cold. And for this pitiful splendour you sold your immortal soul!
Maximus.
[Rising.] The world-will shall answer for Julian’s soul!
Makrina.
Blaspheme not; though surely you have loved this dead man——
Maximus.
[Approaching the body.] Loved, and led him astray—Nay, not I!
Led astray like Cain. Led astray like Judas.—Your God is a spendthrift God, Galileans! He wears out many souls.
Wast thou not then, this time either, the chosen one—thou victim on the altar of necessity?
What is it worth to live? All is sport and mockery.—To will is to have to will.
Oh my beloved—all signs deceived me, all auguries spoke with a double tongue, so that I saw in thee the mediator between the two empires.
The third empire shall come! The spirit of man shall re-enter on its heritage—and then shall offerings of atonement1 be made to thee, and to thy two guests in the symposium.
[He goes out.
Makrina.
[Rising, pale.] Basil—did you understand the heathen’s speech?
Basil.
No,—but it dawns on me like a great and radiant light, that here lies a noble, shattered instrument of God.
Makrina.
Ay, truly, a dear and dear-bought instrument.
Basil.
Christ, Christ—how came it that thy people saw not thy manifest design? The Emperor Julian was a rod of chastisement,—not unto death, but unto resurrection.
Makrina.
Terrible is the mystery of election. How know we——?
Basil.
Is it not written: “Some vessels are fashioned to honour, and some to dishonour”?
Makrina.
Oh brother, let us not seek to fathom that abyss.
[She bends over the body and covers the face.
Erring soul of man—if thou wast indeed forced to err, it shall surely be accounted to thee for good on that great day when the Mighty One shall descend in the clouds to judge the living dead and the dead who are yet alive!—— ——
THE END.
- Here occurs the one clear case I have observed of a revision of the text. In earlier editions the phrase ran “da skal der tændes rögoffer,” meaning literally “then shall burnt-offerings (smoke-offerings) be lighted.” In the collected edition (1899) “sonoffer” (offerings of atonement) is substituted for “rögoffer.” This can scarcely be a printer’s error; and as one deliberate alteration has been made, it would seem that the alterations noted on pp. 382 and 417 (especially the former) may also be due, not to the printer, but to the poet. [↩]