[Clapping their hands.] How beautiful! How sublime!
Julian.
Libanius, cruel friend,—how could you find it in your heart to balk me so long of this happy moment? During the weeks and months I have waited for you, my countenance has been veiled in Scythian darkness.
Libanius.
Alas, you were in better case than I; for you had those to whom you could speak about your absent friend.
Julian.
Say not so. I had only the hapless lover’s comfort: that of sorrowfully repeating your name, and crying out: “Libanius, Libanius!”
Libanius.
Ah, whilst you spoke thus to empty air, I spoke to the four walls of my chamber. Most of the day I passed in bed, picturing to myself who was then with you—now this one, now that. “Once it was otherwise,” I said to myself,—“then it was I who possessed Julian’s ear.”
Julian.