Dead! dead! Gallus dead! Dead in the midst of his triumphal progress! But when,—and where?
Leontes.
Oh, my dear lord, spare me——
Gregory of Nazianzus.
[Struggling with the guards at the door.] I must go to him! Aside, I say!—Julian!
Julian.
Gregory, brother,—after all, you come again?
Gregory.
Is it true, what rumour is scattering like a storm of arrows over the city?
Julian.