II
At Constantinople Julian organised Bacchic processions. Seated in a chariot drawn by white mules, he held in his right hand a golden thyrsus, surmounted by cedar-fruit, and in the other a cup garlanded with ivy. The rays of the sun flooded the crystal wine-cup with vermilion. On each side of the chariot paced tame leopards, sent from the island of Serendib. In front, Bacchantes sang to the beat of timbrels, waving bright torches; and through the clouds of smoke lads, wearing the horns of Fauns, spilt wine into goblets. As they pushed laughing along, the red wine often splashed the bare shoulder of some Bacchante, and dashed the sunshine with rosy spray. An obese old man, a certain rascally money-lender—who, by the way, was head of the Imperial Treasury,—mounted on an ass, played the part of Silenus to perfection. The Bacchantes danced along, waving their hands towards the Emperor—
O Bacchus, ever girt with gleaming cloud!
Thousands of voices intoned the chant from the Antigone of Sophocles—
But now be glad of Victory!
She meets our gladness with an answering smile;
And Thebes, the many-charioted, hears far-resounding praise.
Now then have done with wars,—forget your strifes!
Visit all temples of the gods with night-long dance and song;