He does not look so powerful as the Emperor Constantius.
Phocion.
I think he does. He is not so tall as the late Emperor; but his arms are longer. And then his glance——oh my friends——! You cannot see it just now; his eyes are modestly lowered as he walks. Yes, modest he is, I can tell you. He has no eye for women. I dare swear that since his wife’s death he has but seldom——; you see, he writes the whole night. That is why his fingers are often as black as a dyer’s; just like mine; for I am a dyer. I can tell you I know the Emperor better than most people. I was born here in Antioch; but I have lived fifteen years in Constantinople, until very lately——
A Citizen.
Is there aught, think you, in the rumour that the Emperor is minded to settle here for good?
Phocion.
I know the Emperor’s barber, and he reports it so. Let us trust these shameful disturbances may not incense him too much.
A Citizen.
Alas, alas, that were a pity indeed!
A Second Citizen.