Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (147 page)

JULIAN.
How blind have I been! Let me press these perjured fingers ——

HEKEBOLIUS.
The Emperor!
[The
Emperor Constantius,
with his whole retinue
,
comes from the church.
Agathon
has already, during the foregoing
,
withdrawn among the bushes on the right.

THE EMPEROR.
Oh, blessed peace of heaven in my heart.

THE EMPRESS.
Do you feel yourself strengthened, my Constantius?

THE EMPEROR.
Yes, yes! I saw the living Dove hovering over me. It took away the burden of all my sin. — Now I dare venture much, Memnon!

MEMNON.
[Softly.]
Lose not a moment, sire!

THE EMPEROR.
There they both stand.
[He goes towards the brothers.

GALLUS.
[Mechanically feels for his sword, and cries in terror
.] Do me no ill!

THE EMPEROR.
[
With outstretched arms.]
Gallus! Kinsman!

[He embraces and kisses him.]
Lo, in the light of the Easter stars, I choose the man who lies nearest my heart. — Bow all to the earth. Hail Gallus Caesar!
[General astonishment among the Court; a few involuntary shouts are raised.

THE EMPRESS.
[
With a shriek.]
Constantius!

GALLUS.
[Amazed.]
Caesar!

JULIAN.
Ah!
[He tries lo seize the
Emperor’s
hands, as if in joy.

THE EMPEROR.
[
Waving him aside.]
Away from me! What would you? Is not Gallus the elder? What hopes have you been cherishing? What rumours have you, in your blind presumption — ? Away; away!

GALLUS.
I — ! Caesar! The EMPEROR. My heir and my successor. In three days you will set out for the army in Asia. I know the Persian war is much on your mind —

GALLUS.
Oh, my most gracious sire — ! The EMPEROR. Thank me in deeds, my beloved Gallus! King Sapor lies west of the Euphrates. I know how solicitous you are for my life; be it your task, then, to crush him.
[He turns, takes
Julian’s
head between his hands
,
and kisses him.
And you, Julian, my pious friend and brother — so it needs must be.

JULIAN.
All blessings on the Emperor’s will! The EMPEROR. Call down no blessings! Yet listen — I have thought of you too. Know, Julian, that now you can breathe freely in Constantinople —

JULIAN.
Yes, praise be to Christ and the Emperor!

THE EMPEROR.
You know it already? Who has told you?

JULIAN.
What, sire?

THE EMPEROR.
That Libanius is banished?

JULIAN.
Libanius — banished!

THE EMPEROR.
I have banished him to Athens.

JULIAN.
Ah!

THE EMPEROR.
Yonder lies his ship; he sails to-night.

JULIAN.
[
Aside
.] He himself; he himself!

THE EMPEROR.
You have long wished it. I have not hitherto been able to fulfil your desire; but now — ; let this be a slight requital to you, my Julian —

JULIAN.
[Quickly seizing his hand.]
Sire, do me one grace more.

THE EMPEROR.
Ask what you will.

JULIAN.
Let me go to Pergamus. You know the old Aedesius teaches there —

THE EMPEROR.
A very strange wish. You, among the heathens — ?

JULIAN.
Aedesius is not dangerous; he is a high-minded old man, drawing towards the grave —

THE EMPEROR.
And what would you with him, brother?

JULIAN.
I would learn to do battle with the lions.

THE EMPEROR.
I understand your pious thought. And you are not afraid — ; you think yourself strong enough — ?

JULIAN.
The Lord God has called me with a loud voice. Like Daniel, I go fearless and joyful into the lions’ den.

THE EMPEROR.
Julian!

JULIAN.
To-night, without knowing it, you have yourself been his instrument. Oh, let me go forth to purge the world!

GALLUS.
[Softly to the
Emperor.] Humour him, sire; it will prevent his brooding on higher things.

THE EMPRESS.
I implore you, Constantius — set no bar to this vehement longing. Hekebolius Great Emperor, let him go to Pergamus. I fear I am losing hold of him here, and now ‘tis no longer of such moment.

THE EMPEROR.
How could I deny you anything in such an hour? Go with God, Julian!

JULIAN.
[Kissing his hands.]
Oh, thanks — thanks!

THE EMPEROR.
And now to a banquet of rejoicing! My Capuan cook has invented some new fast-dishes, carp-necks in Chios wine, and — Forward; — your place is next to me, Gallus Caesar!

[
The procession begins to advance.
]

GALLUS.
[Softly.]
Helena, what a marvellous change of fortune!

HELENA.
Oh, Gallus, dawn is breaking over our hopes. Gallus. I can scarce believe it! Who has brought it about?

HELENA.
Hush!

GALLUS.
You, my beloved? Or who — who?

HELENA.
Memnon’s Spartan dog.

GALLUS.
What do you mean?

HELENA.
Memnon’s dog. Julian kicked it; this is Memnon’s revenge.

THE EMPEROR.
Why so silent, Eusebia?

THE EMPRESS.
[
Softly
,
in tears.]
Oh, Constantius — how could you make such a choice!

THE EMPEROR.
Eleven ghosts demanded it.

THE EMPRESS.
Woe upon us; this will not appease the ghosts.

THE EMPEROR.
[
Calls loudly
.] Flute-players! Why are the rascals silent? Play, play!
[All, except
Prince Julian,
go out to the left.
Agathon
comes forward among the trees.

JULIAN.
Gallus his successor; and I — free, free, free! Agathon. Marvellously are the counsels of the Lord revealed.

JULIAN.
Heard you what passed? —

AGATHON.
Yes, everything.

JULIAN.
And to-morrow, ray Agathon, to-morrow to Athens!

AGATHON.
To Athens. ‘Tis to Pergamus you go.

JULIAN.
Hush! You do not know — ; we must be cunning as serpents. First to Pergamus — and then to Athens!

AGATHON.
Farewell, my lord and friend!

JULIAN.
Will you go with me, Agathon?

AGATHON.
. I cannot. I must go home; I have my little brother to care for.

JULIAN.
[At the balustrade
.] There they are weighing anchor. — A fair wind to you, winged lion; Achilles follows in your wake.

[Exclaims softly
.]
Ah!

AGATHON. — What was that? —

JULIAN.
Yonder fell a star.

ACT SECON
D

In Athens. An open place surrounded by colonnades. In the square, statues and a fountain. A narrow street debouches in the left-hand corner. Sunset,
Basil op Caesarea,
a delicately-built young man, sits reading beside a pillar.
Gregory of Nazianzus
and other scholars of the University stroll in scattered groups up and dorm the colonnades. A larger band runs shouting across the square, and out to the right; noise in the distance.

BASIL.
[Looks up from his book.]
What mean these wild cries?

GREGORY.
A ship has come in from Ephesus.

BASIL.
With new scholars?

GREGORY.
Yes.

BASIL.
Then we shall have a night of tumult. Come, Gregory; let us not witness all this unseemliness.

GREGORY.
[Points to the left.]
Look yonder. Is that a pleasanter sight?

BASIL.
Prince Julian — ; with roses in his hair, his face aflame —

GREGORY.
Ay, and after him that reeling, glassy-eyed crew. Hear how the halting tongues babble with wine! They have sat the whole day in Lykon’s tavern. —

BASIL.
And many of them are our own brethren, Gregory; they are Christian youths —

GREGORY.. So they call themselves. Did not Lampon call himself a Christian — he who betrayed the oil-seller Zeno’s daughter? And Hilarion of Agrigentum, and the two others, who did what I shudder to name —

PRINCE JULIAN.
[Is heard calling without on the left.]
Aha! See, see — the Cappadocian Castor and Pollux.

BASIL.
He has caught sight of us. I will go; I cannot endure to see him in this mood.

GREGORY.
I will remain; he needs a friend. Basil
goes cut to the right. At the same moment,
Prince Julian
, followed by a crowd of young men
,
enters from the narrow street. His hair is dishevelled, and he is clad in a short cloak like the rest. Among the scholars is
Sallust of Pfrusia.

MANY IN THE CROWD.
Long live the light of Athens! Long live the lover of wisdom and eloquence!

JULIAN.
All your flattery is wasted. Not another verse shall you have to-day.

SALLUST.
When our leader is silent, life seems empty, as on the morning after a night’s carouse.

JULIAN.
If we must needs do something, let it be something new. Let us hold a mock trial.

THE WHOLE CROWD.
Yes, yes, yes; Prince Julian on the judgment seat!

JULIAN.
Have done with the Prince, friends —

SALLUST.
Ascend the judgment-seat, incomparable one! . JULIAN. How could I presume — ? There stands the man. Who is so learned in the law as Gregory of Nazianzus?

SALLUST.
That is true!

JULIAN.
To the judgment-seat, ray wise Gregory; I am the prisoner at the bar.

GREGORY.
I beg you, friend, let me stand out.

JULIAN.
To the judgment-seat, I say! To the judgment seat.
[To the others
,] What is my transgression?

SOME VOICES.
Yes, what shall it be? Choose yourself!

SALLUST.
Let it be something Galilean, as we of the ungodly say.

JULIAN.
Right; something Galilean. I have it. I have refused to pay tribute to the Emperor —

MANY VOICES.
Ha-ha; well bethought! Excellent!

JULIAN.
Here am I, dragged forward by the nape of the neck, with my hands pinioned —

SALLUST.
[To Gregory.] Blind judge — I mean since Justice is blind — behold this desperate wretch; he has denied to pay tribute to the Emperor.

JULIAN.
Let me throw one word into the scales of judgment. I am a Greek citizen. How much does a Greek citizen owe the Emperor?

GREGORY.
What the Emperor demands.

JULIAN.
Good; but how much — answer now as though the Emperor himself were in court — how much has the Emperor a right to demand?

GREGORY.
Everything.

JULIAN.
Answered as though the Emperor were present indeed! But now comes the knotty point; for it is written: Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s — and unto God the things that are God’s.

GREGORY.
And what then?

JULIAN.
Then tell me, oh sagacious judge — how much of what is mine belongs to God?

GREGORY.
Everything.

JULIAN.
And how much of God’s property may I give to the Emperor?

GREGORY.
Dear friends, no more of this sport.

THE SCHOLARS.
[Amid laughter and noise
.] Yes, yes; answer him.

JULIAN.
How much of God’s property has the Emperor a right to demand?

GREGORY.
I will not answer. This is unseemly both towards God and the Emperor. Let me go.

MANY VOICES.
Make a ring round him!

JULIAN.
Hold him fast! What, you most luckless of judges, you have bungled the Emperor’s cause, and now you seek to escape? You would flee? Whither, whither? To the Scythians? Bring him before me! Tell me you servants that-are-to-be of the Emperor and of wisdom — has he not attempted to elude the Emperor’s power?

THE SCHOLARS.
Yes, yes.

JULIAN.
And what punishment do you award to such a misdeed?

VOICES.
Death! Death in a wine-jar!

JULIAN.
Let us reflect. Let us answer as though the Emperor himself were present. What limit is there to the Emperor’s power?

SOME OF THE CROWD.
The Emperor’s power has no limits.

JULIAN.
So I should think. But to want to escape from the infinite, my friends, is not that madness?

THE SCHOLARS.
Yes, yes; the Cappadocian is mad!

JULIAN.
And what, then, is madness? How did our forefathers conceive of it? What was the doctrine of the Egyptian priests? And what says Maximus the Mystic and the other philosophers of the East? They say that the divine enigma reveals itself in the brainsick. Our Gregory — in setting himself up against the Emperor — is thus in special league with Heaven. — Make libations of wine to the Cappadocian; sing songs to our Gregory’s praise; — a statue of honour for Gregory of Nazianzus!

THE SCHOLARS.
[Amid laughter and glee.]
Praise to the Cappadocian! Praise to the Cappadocian’s judge!
The
Philosopher Libanius,
surrounded by disciples, comes across the square.

LIBANIUS.
Ah, see — is not my brother Julian dispensing wisdom in the open market-place?

JULIAN.
Say folly, dear friend; wisdom has departed the city.

LIBANIUS.
Has wisdom departed the city?

JULIAN.
Or is on the point of departing; for are not you also bound for the Piraeus?

LIBANIUS.
I, my brother? What should I want at the Piraeus?

JULIAN.
Our Libanius, then, is the only teacher who does not know that a ship has just arrived from Ephesus.

LIBANIUS.
Why, ray friend, what have I to do with that ship?

JULIAN.
It is loaded to the water’s edge with embryo philosophers —

LIBANIUS.
[Scornfully.]
They come from Ephesus!

JULIAN.
Is not gold equally weighty whencesoever it may come?

LIBANIUS.
Gold? Ha-ha! The golden ones Maximus keeps to himself; he does not let them go. What sort of scholars is Ephesus wont to send us? Shopkeepers’ sons, the first-born of mechanics. Gold say you, my Julian? I call it lack of gold. But I will turn this lack of gold to account, and out of it I will mint for you young men a coin of true and weighty metal. For may not a precious lesson in life, set forth in ingenious and attractive form, be compared to a piece of full-weighted golden currency? — Hear then, if you have a mind to. Was it not said that certain men had rushed eagerly down to the Piraeus? Who are they, these eager ones? Far be it from me to mention names; they call themselves lovers and teachers of wisdom. Let us betake ourselves in thought to the Piraeus. What is passing there at this moment, even as I stand here in this circle of kindly listeners? I will tell you what is passing. Those men who give themselves out as lovers and dispensers of wisdom, are crowding upon the gangway, jostling, wrangling, biting, forgetting all decorum, and throwing dignity to the winds. And why? To be the first in the field, — to pounce upon the best dressed youths, to lead them home, to entertain them, hoping in the end to make profit out of them in all possible ways. What a shamefaced, empty awakening, as after a debauch, if it should presently appear — ha-ha-ha! — that these youths have scarcely brought with them the wherewithal to pay for their supper of welcome! Learn from this, young men, how ill it becomes a lover of wisdom, and how little it profits him, to run after good things other than the truth.

JULIAN.
Oh, my Libanius, when I listen to you with closed eyes, I seem lapped in the sweet dream that Diogenes has once more arisen in our midst

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.

JULIAN.
Especially the two young men.

LIBANIUS.
No doubt, no doubt. For the sake of their beneficent and generous father, I pray the gods that they may fall into good hands. After all, then, you were right, my Julian; the ship brought real gold from Ephesus. For are not intellectual gifts the purest of gold? But I cannot rest; these young men’s welfare is, in truth, a weighty matter; so much depends on who first gains control of them. My young friends, if you think as I do, we will hold out a guiding hand to these two strangers, help them to make the wisest choice of teacher and abode, and —

SALLUST.
I will go with you!

THE SCHOLARS.
To the Piraeus! To the Piraeus!

SALLUST.
We will fight like wild boars for Milo’s sons!
[They all go out, with
Libanius,
to the right; only
Prince Julian
and
Gregory of Nazianzus
remain behind in the colonnade.

JULIAN.
[Following them with his eyes.]
See how they go leaping like a troop of fauns. How they lick their lips at the thought of the feast that awaits them this evening.
[He turns to
Gregory.] If there is one thing they would sigh to God for at this moment, it is that he would empty their stomachs of their breakfasts.

GREGORY.
Julian — !

JULIAN.
Look at me; I am sober.

GREGORY.
I know that. You are temperate in all things. And yet you share this life of theirs.

JULIAN.
Why not? Do you know, or do I, when the thunderbolt will fall? Then why not make the most of the bright and sunlit day? Do you forget that I dragged out my childhood and the first years of my youth in gilded slavery? It had become a habit, I might almost say a necessity to me, to live under a weight of dread. And now? This stillness as of the grave on the Emperor’s part; — this sinister silence! I left Pergamus without the Emperor’s permission; the Emperor said nothing. I went of my own will to Nicomedia; I lived there, and studied with Nikokles and others; the Emperor gave no sign. I came to Athens, and sought out Libanius, whom the Emperor had forbidden me to see; — the Emperor has said nothing to this day. How am I to interpret this?