"Have you finished, old man?" asked Julian, calmly.
The Emperor had listened to the long speech imperturbably, as if it had been addressed to someone else.
"Here are my hands, executioners ... bind them!... Lead me to death!... Lord, I accept Thy crown!"
The bishop raised his faded eyes skyward.
"Do you imagine, brave man, that I shall send you to execution?" said Julian. "You are mistaken. I shall bid you go in peace. In my heart there is no anger whatever against you...."
"What is he saying?" the crowd asked each other.
"Tempt me not! I will not deny Christ. Hence, enemy of mankind! Headsman, lead me to death!... I am ready...."
"There are no headsmen here, my friend; they are only simple good folk, like yourself. Set your mind at rest. My existence is more wearisome and ordinary than you imagine. I have heard you with curiosity, for I admire eloquence, even when it is Galilean!... And how much there was in it ... the abomination of Sennacherib, the king of the Amorites, the stones of David and Goliath! The style of your discourse can scarcely be called simple. Read our Demosthenes, Plato, and particularly Homer. These were really simple in their words as children, or gods. Yes, Galileans, learn the greatness of calm from them!... God, remember, was not in the tempest but in the silence. That is all my lesson. That is all my vengeance, since vengeance you must have from me...."
"May God strike thee blind, renegade!" began Maris.
"God's wrath will not give thee back sight by striking me blind!" answered Julian.