Libanius.
Your lips are princely spendthrifts of praise, beloved of my soul!
Julian.
Far from it. And yet I had almost interrupted your homily for in this case, one of your colleagues will scarce find himself disappointed.
Libanius.
My friend is jesting.
Julian.
Your friend assures you that the two sons of the governor, Milo, are on board.
Libanius.
[Grasping his arm.] What do you say?
Julian.
That the new Diogenes who secures them as his pupils will scarce need to drink out of the hollow of his hand for poverty.
Libanius.
The sons of the Governor Milo! That noble Milo, who sent the Emperor seven Persian horses, with saddles embroidered with pearls?
Julian.
Many thought that too mean a gift for Milo.
Libanius.
Very true. Milo ought to have sent a poem, or perhaps a well-polished speech, or a letter. Milo is a nobly-endowed man; all Milo's family are nobly-endowed.
