The Philosopher.
Can Sirius be hidden by a cloud? Will not the restless wind tear a rift in it here or there, so that——
Julian.
Speak plainly, I beg you.
The Philosopher.
The palace and the church are as a double cage wherein the prince is mewed up. But the cage is not close enough. Now and then he lets fall an enigmatic word; the court vermin—forgive me, sir—the courtiers spread it abroad in scorn; its deep meaning does not exist for these gentlefolk—your pardon, sir—for most of them it does not exist.
Julian.
For none. You may safely say for none.
The Philosopher.
Yet surely for you; and at any rate for us.——