Julian The Apostate | ||
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Groups of Soldiers in disorder. Nevitta, Sallust, Anatolius, Hormisdas, endeavour to appease them.
MUTIUS.
I have crossed the Tigris; but beyond this bank
I will not stir a foot—that 's flat.
NEVITTA.
Thou whelp
Of a base jackal, art thou on the scent?
Thou 'dst best give tongue again—thou'dst best, vile cur!
SALLUST.
Nay, comrades, where 's your Roman discipline?
What do you fear? Oh, I prophane your character
In giving utterance to the word! Why, men,
I'm old in arms, and have before swam armed
These famous waves: ay, and I found these Persians,
These petticoat warriors, these high-plum'd gallants,
The self-same scrupulous tilters here, fine fencers,
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As you erewhile have known them. Why, 'tis but sport,
Mere holiday pastime, thus with lance in rest
To prick them through the meadows: never hound
And horn went merrier up the green-wood glade.
Apollo! how their mettlesome Arabs shew
Their paces at a race!
HORMISDAS.
Your pardon, Prefect.
I much applaud your reasoning and your motives,
But disallow your facts. I 've seen our chivalry,
In all the glitter of their jewelled mail,
Their crests afloat, their banners all displayed,
With their wind-footed coursers firm in hand,
Come caracoling up the sward; their manes
Erect, their light heads white with foam, their tails
Lashing the hot air with their ample train—
I have seen them thus facing your Roman squadrons;
Ay, by my household Gods! and charged with them
When they have shewn their mettle.
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Gallant Persian,
I saw thee not; yet in a case like this
I do confess I had given my tongue full scope.
Yet pardon me; and, ere you next reply,
Consider time and place. We 've gallants here
Whose valour does not need discouragement.
HORMISDAS.
I've done; but yet you know my mind—believe it.
You may unhorse us often, but on this ground
We shall arise refreshed.
NEVITTA.
Then we must strangle you
As in the grasp of Hercules Antæus.
(Soldiers press forward again.
MUTIUS.
We have consulted, Generals, and plant here
Our standards. We will go no farther.
Enter Julian.
JULIAN.
Say you so?
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Having o'erleaped the mark, like a shamed panther
Shrink not back, crouching with a cowardly growl:
Mutius, stand forth. I know you, Sir, of old;
A man of dangerous wit and turbulent speech;
Yet loyal, as I deemed, which your promotion
Doth testify. Come, Sir, speak out:—I wait.
MUTIUS.
Cæsar, as deputy of these brave comrades,
I will speak, and as doth become a soldier.
(Soldiers shout and clash their arms.
We have fought and conquered for you, and we think
Our toils should have a limit.
JULIAN.
Gentle spokesman,
For Heaven's sake have a care. I'm quick of temper,
And fearless in decision, as you know.
I have a private grief too that lies heavy
Upon my temper—tempt me not.
SOLDIERS
(from the crowd.
Brave Mutius,
Speak to our grievance, we 'll support you.
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Emperor!
We love you: but our farthest march is made—
We go no farther.
JULIAN
(drawing his sword, and cutting Mutius down.
Be it so—who next
Tries the adventure of an orator?
(A pause—all remain silent.
SALLUST
(aside.
For Heaven's sake, treat them cautiously.
JULIAN.
Away!
I do despise these demagogues, that fret
The angry multitude: they are but as
The froth upon the mountain-wave—the bird
That shrieks upon the sullen tempest's wing.
(Julian whispers Nevitta, who departs.
JULIAN.
You dreamed I could be awed by words. Know, soldiers,
No mortal voice or arm has power o'er Julian.
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Take up your mutinous officer.
(Two of the Soldiers remove Mutius to the side.
I 'm glad
You are so changed o' th' sudden: would that the foe
Were near us! By Bellona, I could lead you
Now 'gainst a host of spears. Ha! see you there.
(A sudden flash of fire from a ship. The flame runs from ship to ship till the entire fleet is in a blaze.)
Breathe not a sound, for honour's sake, brave comrades;
No, not a murmur, on your duty:—now
You have no choice left, all retreat 's cut off.
We now must fight our way to peace. Brave hearts,
Are not these Persians and those fields the same
That quaked beneath the Boy of Macedon?
And what were he (though half our strength) if boldly
He had not plunged into the dark Granicus?
Soldiers of Rome! what, shall our sons grow pale
Reading that Grecian story? then for shame
Blush at their fathers' mem'ry? We can die,
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But live as recreants—never!
Good Sallust, see that wounded man hath care.
I loved him, though I stabbed him for his crime:
I hope not mortally. Soldiers, to arms!
Hormisdas, lead them to their quarters. March.
(Exeunt.
Julian The Apostate | ||