Just as Julian, leaving the Atrium of Constantine, was descending the great flight of steps and proceeding to sacrifice in the direction of the little Temple of Tyche, the goddess of happiness, near the palace, the old bishop Maris, blind, white-haired, and bent double, approached him, led by a child. A great crowd had gathered at the foot of the staircase. With a solemn gesture, the bishop stopped the Emperor and said to him—
"Listen, peoples, tribes, young and old, all that be upon the earth, listen to me! And ye powers above, Angels, who will blot out soon this martyr-maker! It is not the Amorite king who shall fall, nor Ogyges, King of Thebes, but the Serpent, the Great Spirit, the revolted Assyrian, the common enemy, who shall cause a multitude of threats and violences upon earth! Hear, O heaven, and inspire the earth!... And thou also, Cæsar, listen to my prophecy, for to-day, by my mouth, God speaks!... Thy days are numbered! Soon wilt thou perish! Like dust lifted by the tempest, like the hiss of an arrow, like the noise of thunder, like the swiftness of light! The spring of Castaly shall be dried up forever, and a mockery to us that pass by! Apollo shall become again a worthless idol, Daphne a tree bewept in fable, and the grass shall grow in your temples overturned. O! abominations of Sennacherib! so we have foretold it. We Galileans—despised of the earth—adorers of theCrucified—ignorant disciples of the fishermen of Capernaum—we, weakened by long fasting, half-dead, who struggle in vain, we nevertheless shall overcome you!... Unfold to me, Imperial sophist, your speeches, your syllogisms, your antitheses; and we shall see how, on our side, ignorant fishermen can speak!
"David shall chant again—David, who with his strange pebbles from the brook slew Goliath. Thanks be to Thee, O Lord! the Church to-day is purified by persecution! O pure virgins, kindle your torches, array the bishop with a fair robe, for our ornament is the robe of Christ!"
The old man almost chanted the last words as in a liturgy, and the crowd, with emotion, murmured approval. Someone cried out aloud—
"Amen!"
"Have you finished, old man?" asked Julian, calmly.
The Emperor had listened to the long speech imperturbably, as if it had been addressed to someone else.
"Here are my hands, executioners ... bind them!... Lead me to death!... Lord, I accept Thy crown!"
The bishop raised his faded eyes skyward.
"Do you imagine, brave man, that I shall send you to execution?" said Julian. "You are mistaken. I shall bid you go in peace. In my heart there is no anger whatever against you...."
"What is he saying?" the crowd asked each other.
"Tempt me not! I will not deny Christ. Hence, enemy of mankind! Headsman, lead me to death!... I am ready...."
"There are no headsmen here, my friend; they are only simple good folk, like yourself. Set your mind at rest. My existence is more wearisome and ordinary than you imagine. I have heard you with curiosity, for I admire eloquence, even when it is Galilean!... And how much there was in it ... the abomination of Sennacherib, the king of the Amorites, the stones of David and Goliath! The style of your discourse can scarcely be called simple. Read our Demosthenes, Plato, and particularly Homer. These were really simple in their words as children, or gods. Yes, Galileans, learn the greatness of calm from them!... God, remember, was not in the tempest but in the silence. That is all my lesson. That is all my vengeance, since vengeance you must have from me...."
"May God strike thee blind, renegade!" began Maris.
"God's wrath will not give thee back sight by striking me blind!" answered Julian.
"I thank God for my blindness!" exclaimed the old man; "it does not allow me to see your damned face, Apostate!"
"What spitefulness! in so frail a body! You are always speaking of humility and love, Galileans; and yet what hate is in every one of your words! I have just quitted an assemblage where the Fathers of the Church were ready to fly at each other like wild beasts. And now comes this unbridled speech of yours! Why this hatred? Am I not your brother? Oh, if you knew at this moment how kindly my heart feels towards you! May the Olympians soften your cruel and suffering soul, poor blind man! Go in peace, and remember that the Galileans are not the only men who can pardon!..."
"Believe him not, brethren!... It is a trick, a snare of the Serpent. God of Israel, have no mercy!"
Paying no attention to the curses of the old man, Julian, in his white tunic, made his way through the crowd with the haughty bearing of one of the old sages.