Julian.
These shoes you will take to Alites, place them on his feet, and say that henceforth he must not fail to put them on, whenever he would walk abroad by daylight in his purple cloak——
Medon.
Oh!
Julian.
——and, that done, you may tell him from me, that he is a fool if he thinks himself honoured by a purple robe, having not the power of the purple.—Go; and come for the shoes to-morrow!
[The Corn Merchant slinks away, amid the laughter of the citizens; the Courtiers, Orators, Poets, and the rest clap their hands, with loud exclamations of approval.
Another Citizen.
[Stepping forward from the crowd.] Praised be the Emperor’s justice! Oh how richly this envious corn-miser deserves his punishment! Oh hear me, and let your favour——
Julian.