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sc. iv.]
the emperor julian.
471
Oribases.
Sire, do you know me?
Julian.
Very well, my Oribases.
Oribases.
Only lie quiet.
Julian.
Lie quiet? You remind me! I must be up!
Oribases.
Impossible, sire; I implore you
Julian.
I must up, I say. How can I lie quiet now? I must utterly vanquish Sapor.
Eutherius.
Sapor is vanquished, sire! He has sent envoys to the camp to beg for a truce.
Julian.
Has he, indeed? That is good news. So him, at least, I have conquered.
But no truce. I will crush him to the earth.—Ah, where is my shield? Have I lost my shield?
Ammian.
No, my Emperor,—here are both your shield and your sword.
Julian.
I am very glad of that. My good shield. I should grieve to think of it in the hands of the barbarians. Give it me, on my arm
