Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (166 page)

THE MAN.
[Looking up.]
Tread under foot this salt without savour, rejected of the Lord!

JULIAN.
Oh everlasting gods! — Hekebolius — !

THE COURTIERS.
Ah, so it is, — Hekebolius!

HEKEBOLIUS.
That is no longer my name! I am nameless. I have denied the baptism that gave me my name!

JULIAN.
Arise, friend? Your mind is distempered —

HEKEBOLIUS.
Judas’s brother is pestiferous. Away from me —

JULIAN.
Oh feeble-hearted man —

HEKEBOLIUS.
Avaunt, tempter! Take back your thirty pieces of silver! Is it not written,
“
Thou shalt forsake wife and children for the Lord’s sake”? And I — ? For the sake of wife and children have I betrayed the Lord my God! Woe, woe, woe!
[He casts himself down again on his face.

JULIAN.
Such flames of madness do these writings kindle over the earth! And do I not well to burn them? Wait! Ere a year has passed the Temple of the Jews shall stand again on Zion hill, — the splendour of its golden dome shining over the world, and testifying: Liar, liar, liar!
[He goes hastily away, followed by the philosophers.

SCENE THIRD
.

A road outside the city. To the left, by the wayside, stands a statue of Cybele amid the stumps of hewn-down trees. At a little distance to the left is a fountain, with a stone basin. It is towards sunset. On a step at the foot of the goddess’s statue sits an old priest
,
with a covered basket in his lap. A number of men and women carry water from the fountain. Passers-by are seen on the road. From the left enters the dyer
Phocion,
meanly clad, with a great bundle on his head. He meets
Eunapius
the barber, who comes from the city.

PHOCION.
Aha! — my friend Eunapius in full court dress!

EUNAPIUS.
Shame on you for mocking a poor man.

PHOCION.
Call you that mockery? I thought it was the highest distinction.

EUNAPIUS.
You may say so indeed. ‘Tis now the height of distinction to go in rags, especially if they have lain long enough in the gutter.

PHOCION.
How will all this end, think you?

EUNAPIUS.
What should I care? I know how it has ended with me, and that is enough.

PHOCION.
Are you no longer in the Emperor s service?

EUNAPIUS.
What should the Emperor Julian want with a barber? Think you he has his hair cut, or his beard trimmed? He does not even comb them. But how goes it with you? You do not look much better off.

PHOCION.
Alas, Eunapius, purple-dyeing has had its day.

EUNAPIUS.
Right, right; now we dye only the backs of the Christians. But what is that you are toiling with?

PHOCION.
A bundle of willow bark. I am to dye fools’ cloaks for the philosophers.
[A detachment of soldiers enters from the right; they range themselves beside the statue of Cybele.

PHOCION.
[To one of the men beside the stone basin.]
What does this mean?

THE MAN.
The statue is to be fed once more.

PHOCION.
Will the Emperor sacrifice here this evening?

ANOTHER MAN.
Does he not sacrifice both morning and evening — sometimes here, sometimes there?

A WOMAN.
‘Tis hard on us poor folk that the new Emperor is so much in love with the gods.

ANOTHER WOMAN.
Nay, Dione, say hot so. Ought we not all to love the gods?

THE FIRST WOMAN.
Maybe, maybe; but ‘tis hard on us none the less —

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 for the gods; for to them we owe all our strength and all our care. [To
those by the stone basin.
It pleases me, however, to find that there are some in this stiff-necked city who are not deaf to my exhortations, but have come forth with seemly piety — and, I doubt not, have brought with them suitable offerings.
[He goes up to the
Old Priest.
What do I see? One solitary old man! Where are your brethren of the temple?

THE OLD PRIEST.
Sire, they are all dead but I.

JULIAN.
All dead! The road laid irreverently close to the sanctuary. The venerable grove hewn down — Old man — where are the sacrificial offerings?

THE OLD PRIEST.
[Pointing to the basket
.] Here, sire!

JULIAN.
Yes, yes; but the rest?

THE OLD PRIEST.
This is all.
[He opens the basket.

JULIAN.
A goose! And this goose is all?

THE OLD PRIEST.
Yes, sire!

JULIAN, And what pious man have we to thank for so generous an offering?

THE OLD PRIEST.
I brought it with me myself. Oh, sire, be not wroth; this one was all I had.
[Laughter and mutterings among the bystanders.
Suppressed VOICES. ‘Tis enough. A goose is more than enough.

JULIAN.
Oh Antioch — you put my patience to a hard test!

A MAN IN THE CROWD.
Bread first, offerings afterwards!

PHOCION.
[Nudging him in the side.]
Well said; well said!

ANOTHER MAN.
Give the citizens food; the gods may do as best they can.

A THIRD Man. We were better off under Chi and Kappa!

JULIAN.
Oh you shameless brawlers, with your Chi and Kappa! Think you I do not know whom you mean by Chi and Kappa? Ho-ho, I know very well. ‘Tis a by-word among you. You mean Christ and Constantius. But their dominion is past, and I shall soon find means of subduing the frowardness and ingratitude you display both towards the gods and towards me. You are offended because I allot the gods their due offerings. You mock at my modest attire and my untrimmed beard. This beard is a very thorn in your eyes! You call it, irreverently, a goat’s beard. But I tell you, oh fools, it is a wise man’s beard. I am not ashamed to let you know that this beard harbours vermin, as willow copses harbour game — and yet this despised beard is more honourable to me than your smooth-shaven chins to you!

EUNAPIUS.
[Half aloud.
| What foolishness; most unreasonable!

JULIAN.
But think you I will leave your mockeries unanswered? No, no, you will find yourselves mistaken. Only wait; you shall hear from me sooner than you think. I am at this moment preparing a treatise, entitled “The Beard-Hater.” And would you know against whom it is directed? It is directed against you, citizens of Antioch — against you, whom I describe in it as
“
those ignorant hounds.” You will find in it my reasons for many things that now seem strange to you in my behaviour.

FROMENTINUS.
[Entering from the right.]
Great Emperor, I bring you good news. Cyrillus has already given way —

JULIAN.
Ah, I thought so.

FROMENTINUS.
Typhon did his work bravely. The prisoner was stripped, tied by the wrists, and slung to the rafters, so that the tips of his toes barely touched the floor; then Typhon scourged him from behind with a lash of ox sinews that circled his body round to the breast.

JULIAN.
Oh how wicked to force us to use such means!

FROMENTINUS.
Lest he should die under our hands, we had at last to release the obstinate wretch. He remained for a time quite still, and seemed to reflect; then suddenly he demanded to be brought before the Emperor. —

JULIAN.
This pleases me. And you are having him brought hither?

FROMENTINUS.
Yes, sire — here they come with him.
A detachment of soldiers enters, conducting
Cyrillus.

JULIAN.
Ah, my good Cyrillus, — you are not quite so overweening as you were, I see.

CYRILLUS.
Have you read in the entrails of some beast or bird what I have to say to you?

JULIAN.
Methinks there needs no divination to foresee that you have come to your senses, that you renounce your delusions concerning the Galilean’s power, and that you acknowledge both the Emperor and our gods to be greater than he.

CYRILLUS.
Imagine no such thing. Your gods are powerless; and if you cling to these graven images, that can neither hear nor see, you yourself will soon be as powerless as they.

JULIAN.
Cyrillus — is this what you have to say?

CYRILLUS.
No; I come to thank you. Hitherto I have dreaded you and your tortures. But in the hour of agony I won the victory of the spirit over all that is corruptible. Yes, Emperor, while your hirelings thought I was hanging in torment from the prison roof, — I lay, happy as a child, in my Saviour’s arms; and when your executioners seemed to be flaying my body with stripes, the Lord passed his healing hand over the wounds, took away the crown of thorns, and placed on my brow the crown of life. Therefore I thank you; no mortal has ever done me so great a service as you. And lest you should think I fear you for the future, see ——
 
—
[He throw’s back his cloak
,
tears open his wounds and casts pieces of flesh at the Emperor s feet —
see — see — gorge yourself with the blood you thirst after! But as for me, know that I thirst after Jesus Christ alone.
[Shrieks of horror are heard among the crowd.

MANY VOICES.
This will bring disaster on us all!

JULIAN.
[
Who has recoiled
.] Hold the madman, lest he lay hands on us!
The soldiers surround
Cyrillus
and drag him to the water basin; at the same moment the voices of singing women are heard to the right.

JULIAN.
Look there, Fromentinus — what strange company is that-; — ?

FROMENTINUS.
My gracious Emperor, ‘tis the psalm singers ——

JULIAN.
Ah, that band of raving women —

FROMENTINUS.
The governor Alexander has taken from them some writings which they hold sacred. They are going out of the city to weep at the graves of the Christians.

JULIAN.
With clenched hands.]
Defiance; defiance — from men and women alike!
[Old
Publia,
and many other women, come along the road.

PUBLIA.
[Sings.
Their gods are of marble, and silver and gold. They shall crumble to mould.

CHORUS OF WOMEN.
To mould; to mould!

PUBLIA.
They murder our brothers; our children they smite. Soar up, doves of song, and pray God to requite!

CHORUS OF WOMEN.
Pray God to requite!

PUBLIA.
[Catching sight of
Julian.] There he stands! Woe to the miscreant who has burnt the word of the Lord! Think you you can burn the word of the Lord with fire? I will tell you where it burns.
[She wrests a knife from one of the sacrificing priests, cuts open her breast and probes into the wound.
Here the word burns. You may burn our books; but the word shall burn in the hearts of men until the uttermost end of time! [She c
asts the knife from her.

THE WOMEN.
[Sing with growing ecstasy.
Let writings be burnt, and let bodies be slain; The word shall remain — The word shall remain!
[They take
Publia
into their midst and go out towards the country.

THE PEOPLE BY THE FOUNTAIN.
Woe to us; the Galileans’ God is the strongest!

OTHER VOICES.
What avail all our gods against this one?

OTHERS AGAIN.
No offering! No worship! ‘Twill incense the terrible one against us.

JULIAN.
Oh fools! You fear to incense a man long dead, — a false prophet — you shall have proof of it. He is a liar, I say! Wait but a little longer. Every day, every hour, may bring tidings from Jerusalem — Jovian,
much travel-stained, enters hastily, with a few followers, from the right.

JOVIAN.
Most gracious Emperor, pardon your servant for seeking you here.

JULIAN.
[
With a cry of joy.]
Jovian! Oh welcome news bearer!

JOVIAN.
I come direct from Judea. I learned at the palace that you were here —

JULIAN.
Oh, ever-praiseworthy gods, — yon setting sun shall not go down upon the lie. How far have you progressed? Speak, my Jovian!