The Persian.
What would I after such treatment? I would help you to destroy my persecutor.
Julian.
Ah, poor tortured wretch,—how can you help?
The Persian.
I can lend wings to your soldiers' feet.
Julian.
What mean you by that? Rise and explain yourself.
The Persian.
[Rising.] No one in Ctesiphon expected you to choose this route
Julian.
I know that.
The Persian.
Now 'tis no longer a secret.
Julian.
You lie, fellow! You Persians know nought of my designs.
The Persian.
You, sire, whose wisdom is born of the sun and of fire, know well that my countrymen are now acquainted with your designs. You have crossed the rivers by means of your ships; these ships, more than a thousand in number, and laden with all the supplies of the army, are to be towed up the Tigris, and the troops are to advance abreast of the ships.
