Julian.
I! Your own brother——!
Gallus.
What matter for that! Brotherhood protects no one in our family. Confess that you have secretly spied upon my doings! Who else should it be? Think you I do not know what people are whispering? The Emperor designs to make you his successor.
Julian.
Never! I swear to you, my beloved Gallus, it shall never be! I will not. One mightier than he has chosen me.—Oh, trust me, Gallus: my path is marked out for me. I will not go thither, I tell you. Oh, God of Hosts—I on the imperial throne! No, no, no!
Gallus.
Ha-ha; well acted, mummer!
Julian.
Ay, you may scoff, since you know not what has happened. Myself, I scarcely know. Oh, Agathon—if this head were to be anointed! Would it not be an apostasy—a deadly sin? Would not the Lord’s holy oil burn me like molten lead?