Maurus.
Should he not have free control over the spoils that fall to his share?
Loud Shouts.
Yes, yes, yes!
Julian.
Alas, what would it profit you? What need you care for worldly goods, you, who are to be led forth to the most distant lands, to meet a doubtful fate——?
Soldiers.
We will not go!
Julian.
Look not at me; I am ashamed; I can scarce help weeping when I think that, within a few months, you will be a prey to pestilence, famine, and the weapons of a bloodthirsty foe.