Phocion.
Are you no longer in the Emperor’s service?
Eunapius.
What should the Emperor Julian want with a barber? Think you he has his hair cut, or his beard trimmed? He does not even comb them. But how goes it with you? You do not look much better off.
Phocion.
Alas, Eunapius, purple-dyeing has had its day.
Eunapius.
Right, right; now we dye only the backs of the Christians. But what is that you are toiling with?
Phocion.
A bundle of willow bark. I am to dye fools’ cloaks for the philosophers.