The King of the Alemanni died of home-sickness, my lord! The longing for kindred and freedom——
Julian.
——wastes a man away, Decentius; yes, yes, I know that.—I should not have sent him living to Rome. I should have had him killed here.
Decentius.
Caesar’s heart is merciful.
Julian.
H’m——! Home-sickness? Indeed!
To the Master of the Horse, Sintula, who enters by the back.
Are you there, old faun? Tempt me no more.
[To Decentius.] Since the battle at Argentoratum, he is for ever talking to me of the triumphal chariot and the white horses. [To Sintula.] ’Twould be like Phaeton’s career with the Lybian sun-horses. How did that end? Have you forgotten—have you forgotten your heathendom, I had almost said?—Pardon me, Decentius, for wounding your pious ear.