One of the Men.
[Points to the right.] Look—there he comes. The Emperor Julian advances in priestly attire, with a sacrificial knife. Many philosophers, priests, and servants surround him, along with his guard. After them comes a crowd of people, some mocking, some indignant.
One of the Newcomers.
There stands the goddess. Now you shall see sport.
An Older Man.
Do you call that sport? How many hungry mouths could be fed with what is wasted here?
Julian.
[Approaching the statue.] Oh, this sight! It fills my heart with rapture and my eyes with tears of sorrow. Yes, I must indeed weep, when I remember that this awe-inspiring goddess's statue, overthrown by impious and audacious hands, has lain so long as if in a sleep of oblivion—and that, moreover, in a place I loathe to mention. [Suppressed laughter among the listeners. Julian turns angrily.
But I feel no less rapture when I remember
that to me it was vouchsafed to rescue the Divine
Mother from so unworthy a situation.
May I not well be enraptured by this thought?—Men say of me, that I have won a few victories over the barbarians, and praise me for them. For my part, I set more value on what I am doing
