[To the priest of Cybele.] You may go home, old man! And take your goose with you. We will have no sacrifice this evening.
[He turns to the crowd.
I heard some say the Galilean had conquered. It may appear so; but I tell you it is a delusion. Oh senseless clods; oh contemptible dolts,—believe me, it will not be long before the tables are turned! I will——; I will——! Ah, only wait! I am already collecting material for a treatise against the Galilean. It is to be in seven chapters; and when his followers have read that,—and when “The Beard-Hater,” too——
Give me your arm, Fromentinus! This defiance has wearied me.
[To the guard, as he passes the fountain.
Set Cyrillus free!
[He returns with his retinue to the city.
The Crowd at the Fountain.
[Shouting after him with scornful laughter.] There goes the altar-butcher?—There goes the ragged bear!—There goes the ape with the long arms!