Julian.
You mistake, friend; I have not sent for any of my councillors.
Eunapius.
Most gracious Emperor
Ursulus.
Pardon me, sire; this man is the imperial barber.
Julian.
What do I hear? Can it be? This man—oh, you jest—this man, in silken raiment, with gold-embroidered shoes, is? Ah, indeed! So you are the barber! [He bows before him] Never shall I presume to let myself be served by such delicate hands.
Eunapius.
Most gracious Emperor,—I pray you, for God and my Saviour's sake
Julian.
Ho-ho! A Galilean! Did I not think so! Is this the self-denial you boast of? But I know you well! What temple of what godhead have you plundered, or how many dips have you made into the Emperor's coffers, to attain such magnificence as this?—You may go; I have no occasion for you.
[Eunapius goes out to the right.
Tell me, Ursulus, what is that man's wage?
Ursulus.
Gracious Emperor, by your august predecessor's command, the daily maintenance of twenty men is assigned him
