Julian interrupted—
"What's your name?"
"Papirian, a Roman citizen."
"Well, understand, my dear Papirian, I bear no grudge against you ... on the contrary, remain Galilean...."
The old man fell at the Emperor's feet and kissed them.
"Forty years have I been teaching grammar.... I know Homer and Hesiod better than anyone else...."
"What do you want..." asked Augustus sternly.
"Sir, I have six children!... Don't rob me of my last crust!... My pupils like me; ask them if I teach anything harmful!"
Emotion prevented Papirian from continuing his speech, and he pointed to his pupils, who, not knowing where to put their hands, stood together staring and blushing.
"No, my friends," said the Emperor gently but firmly. "The law is just. To my mind it is absurd that Christian teachers, in explaining Homer, should expound away the gods of whom Homer sang. If you believe that our wise men composed mere fables on the subject of our gods, you should go to your churches, and expound Matthew and Luke!... And note, Galileans, all is done in your own interest...."