Basil.
Sire, I have already heard of this strange determination. And I agree with Gregory in maintaining that you have no exclusive right either to Grecian learning or to Grecian eloquence. I agree with him when he points out that you use the alphabet which was invented by the Egyptians, and that you clothe yourself in purple, although it first came into use among the people of Tyre.
Ay, sire—and more than that. You subdue nations, and make yourself ruler over peoples, whose tongues are unknown and whose manners are strange to you. And you have a right to do so. But by the same right whereby you rule the visible world, he whom you call the Galilean rules the invisible——
Julian.
Enough of that! I will no longer listen to such talk. You speak as though there were two rulers of the world, and on that plea you cry halt to me at every turn. Oh fools! You set up a dead man against a living one. But you shall soon be convinced of your error. Do not suppose that amid the cares of war I have laid aside the treatise I have long been preparing against you. Perhaps you think I spend my nights in sleep? You are mistaken! For “The Beard-Hater” I reaped nothing but scorn,—and that from the very people who had most reason to lay certain truths to heart. But that shall in nowise deter me. Should a man with a cudgel in his hand shrink from a pack of yelping dogs?—Why did you smile, woman? At what did you laugh?
Makrina.
Why, sire, do you rage so furiously against one who, you say, is dead?
Julian.
Ah, I understand! You mean to say that he is alive.
Makrina.