The city of Milan lay basking in the sun; and by every street the crowd was turning its steps towards the chief public square.
Tremendous acclamations ran through the throng, and in the triumphant chariot, drawn by twenty horses white as swans, appeared the Emperor. His chariot seat was so lofty that the people were obliged to throw their heads back to behold him. His robes, besown with precious stones, sparkled dazzlingly in the sun. In his right hand he held the sceptre, in the left the Imperial globe crested by a cross.
Motionless as a statue, outrageously painted, he looked straight before him without turning his head, which was held stiff as in a vice. During the whole journey, and despite the joltings of the car, the Emperor stirred not a finger, nor coughed, nor blinked the steady stare of his eyes.
Constantius had acquired this immobility by years of effort, and was particularly proud of it, considering it an indispensable part of Imperial etiquette. On such occasions he would have preferred to undergo torture rather than betray his mortal nature by sneezing, coughing, or wiping off the sweat which stood in beads on his forehead.
Although squat and bow-legged he imagined himself gigantic. When the chariot disappeared under the arch of triumph, not far from the baths of Maximian Hercules, the Emperor bowed his head as if hewere afraid of striking his head against the lofty gates which would have freely taken a Cyclops beneath them.
Each side of the road was lined with palatine guards helmeted and cuirassed in gold, the two ranks of the bodyguard flashing in the sun like streams of lightning.
Round the Imperial chariot great dragon-shaped standards were floating. The purple stuff, swollen by the wind engulfed in the gullets of the monsters, gave out a shrill sound like the hiss of snakes, and the long purple tails of the dragons wavered to and fro above the people. In the Forum were drawn up all the legions quartered in Milan. Thunders of applause welcomed the Emperor. Constantius was pleased. The noise had neither been too feeble nor too tumultuous. Arranged beforehand according to the strictest etiquette, the soldiers had been instructed to be enthusiastic with moderation and respect.
Giving each of his motions a kind of stiff and pedantic emphasis, Constantius solemnly descended from the chariot and went up to the tribune raised above the square. It was draped with ragged standards of old victories and studded with metal eagles.
The trumpets sounded up anew in the call denoting that the leader desired to speak to his army. The Forum was instantly hushed.
"Optimi reipublicæ defensores!" began Constantius. (Excellent defenders of the Republic.)
The discourse was long-winded, tedious, full of scholastic flowers of rhetoric.
Julian in Court dress now ascended the steps of the tribune, and the fratricide invested the last descendant of Constantius Chlorus with the sacred purple of the Cæsars.
The sunlight filtered through the thin silk when the Emperor raised the purple to enrobe the kneeling Julian. The rich hue tinged the pale face of the new Cæsar, who murmured inwardly the prophetic verse of the Iliad—
"Eyes closed by purple death and puissant Destiny...."
"Eyes closed by purple death and puissant Destiny...."
And nevertheless Constantius was welcoming him:
"Recepisti primævus originis tuæ splendidum florem, amatissime mihi omnium frater." (Still young, you have attained already the flower of your royal birth, most beloved of all my brothers!)
An enthusiastic roar rose from the legions. Constantius became rather gloomy; that shout had slightly exceeded the proper bounds. Julian must have pleased the soldiers.
"Glory and prosperity to Cæsar Julian!" They cheered louder and louder, till it seemed as if they would never cease.
The new Cæsar thanked the legionaries with a kindly smile, and every soldier clashed his buckler against his knee as a sign of rejoicing.
It seemed to Julian that it was not by the will of the Emperor, but by the will of the gods, that he had reached this eminence.
Every evening Constantius was in the habit of consecrating a quarter of an hour to the polishing of his nails. It was one of the few toilet delicacies that he permitted himself, being sober, unimaginative, and rather gross than effeminate in all his habits. Paring his nails with little files, polishing them with minute brushes, he gaily asked his favourite eunuch, the grandchamberlain Eusebius, on the evening of the day of investiture—
"How soon do you think will Julian conquer the Gauls?"
"I think," answered Eusebius, "that the next news we shall receive will be of the defeat and death of that young man!"
"Really?—that would give me much pain! But I have done, don't you think, everything that lay in my power.... Henceforth he has only himself to blame...."
Constantius smiled, and bowing his head admired his nails.
"You have conquered Magnentius," murmured the eunuch, "you have conquered Vetranio, Constans, Gallus. You will conquer Julian. Then there will be but one shepherd, one flock, God and you alone."
"Yes, yes. But, putting Julian on one side, there is still Athanasius. I shall never be happy until, living or dead, he shall have fallen into my hands."
"Julian is more to be feared than Athanasius, and you have invested him to-day in the purple of death. Oh, wisdom of Providence, destroying by inscrutable means all the enemies of Your Eternity! Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, now and during the night of ages!"
"Amen," concluded the Emperor, having finished the toilet of his nails and thrown away the last minute brush. He approached the ancient banner of Constantine, the Labarum, which stood always in the sleeping-chamber, knelt down, and contemplating the monogram of Christ which shone in the flicker of the still-burning lamp, began his prayers. He accomplished exactly the prescribed number of salves and signs of the cross,addressing God with an imperturbable faith, as one who never doubts his own worth and acceptability.
The three-quarters of an hour of devotions having elapsed, Constantius arose with a light heart. Eunuchs undressed him. He lay down on an Imperial couch propped by cherubim of silver on outspread wings, and fell asleep in placid innocence with a child like smile on his lips.