A Conversation Between Julian the "Apostate," Basil of Caesarea and Gregory Nazianzen
The Death of a Friendship
Introduction
For my regular subscribers, I don’t really expect you to read this. It’s long (you may have to read it in the app or on the website if your email provider truncates it) and completely different from my usual work. But it’s a passion project of mine, something I’ve been fiddling with in my spare time for years. And for some reason, I feel compelled to share it right now. I don’t know why. I just do.
I’ll start with a confession: I’m completely obsessed with Roman Emperor Julian the “Apostate” for reasons I find hard to articulate. Let’s just say I feel like I get this man in a way that’s almost uncanny at times. I find him very easy to write as a character. The words just flow out of me.
For those unfamiliar with Julian, a bit of background: He was a fourth-century Roman Emperor and the nephew of Constantine, the same Constantine who famously converted to Christianity and set the empire on its path to Christianization. Well, Julian did pretty much the opposite. He was raised a Christian, but then secretly rejected the faith in favour of Hellenistic paganism (to put it simply) and, upon becoming Emperor, tried to undo the work his own family had started.
So yes, religion is involved in this story, big time, which always makes things a bit delicate. But what fascinates me the most about this story isn’t actually the religious angle, but the personal drama involved, not just between Julian and his family, but his friends, too.
When Julian was a young student in Athens, he became acquainted with two devout Christian men who later became pillars of early Christianity — Basil of Caesarea and Gregory of Nazianzus. These two would both go on to be considered “Early Church Fathers” and saints. Julian, on the other hand, would go on to be remembered as one of Christianity’s great enemies … And these men were friends?
After Julian revealed his apostasy, he and Basil exchanged a few letters, while he and Gregory never spoke again. After Julian’s untimely death in 363 AD, both of his former friends denounced him — Basil in a scathing letter (written in response to a forged one) and Gregory in a fiery invective. Having read these criticisms, made after Julian’s death, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if these men had gotten together before he died and really had it out in the way only friends can.
So, that’s why I wrote this exchange. I wanted to know how that conversation might have played out, to be a fly on the wall as it happened, essentially. In the end, I ended up with a 44 page slow-motion train wreck of a conversation where old friends hurl insults and debate philosophy, theology and politics while years of personal hurt bubbles beneath the surface. It’s the end of a friendship, unfolding in real time.
Some quick notes:
For fans of The Ghosts of Nothing, I wrote this years ago, so don’t worry, it’s not interfering with my progress on book two, which is still moving forward. (I will be posting the prologue here soon).
I wrote this originally as a screenplay, so that’s the format.
Julian speaks to his soldiers in Latin, but there is very little Latin in the piece over all, so if you do start to read it (brave soul that you are), please don’t be put off by the Latin at the beginning.
On the off-chance that a historian reads this: I tried to be historically accurate but took liberties where necessary. For example, I know Julian wouldn’t have referred to himself as a pagan, but I used the term for clarity and simplicity. He also calls Christians Christians in this dialogue rather than Galileans (as he did historically) because I felt it read more easily.
Formatting issue: There are some paraphrased quotes in here from Basil, Gregory, Julian and others. But for the dialogue to look right, I had to format it like poetry and apparently you can’t add footnotes inside poetry blocks. So, I may add footnotes at a later time once I figure out a way to do it that isn’t distracting.
A heartfelt note to Christian readers: This is a story about the unraveling of a friendship. That said, I have wrestled sincerely with some of the questions Julian raises here. Just being honest about that. And I do find I understand and sympathize more with him than I do with either Basil or Gregory. As I said, I feel I get this man, for whatever reason. But I tried very hard not to straw-man either of the Church fathers. I based much of their dialogue on their actual words, sometimes directly, sometimes paraphrased. So, I hope that you’ll find the exchange fair. Julian is on the ropes for a lot of it. But if you do read this and make it to the ending, I understand how it lands, and like Julian, I can only say: I mean well, and hope that you’ll forgive me.
Okay, enough preamble. Here’s the dialogue.
Read at your own risk.
***
Dialogue
EXT. ANTIOCH HILLSIDE - DAY
BASIL, a young priest in his thirties, climbs the hillside. He is a thin man with a long face and protruding eyes. He holds a cloth bag. Out of breath when he reaches the top, he sees, in the distance, the vast Roman encampment.
It’s clear that the army has been stationed here for a while, preparing for their campaign in Persia. Basil takes a deep breath and hurries down the other side of the hill.
EXT. MONASTERY - LATER
A bell rings as a goat trots by. Basil approaches a modest stone building. As he nears, he’s surprised to see several elite soldiers milling around outside. Their eyes track him but they say nothing.
INT. MONASTERY - DAY
Inside, the atmosphere is quiet, with monks murmuring prayers. Basil is alarmed to see more soldiers inside, standing at attention and keeping watch.
One of the monks looks at Basil with wide eyes. The monk motions subtly toward a nearby door.
The soldiers see this and encroach on Basil.
BASIL Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?
SOLDIER Es tu Basilius?
Basil nods.
SOLDIER Veni mecum.
The soldiers escort Basil to the door the monk had been indicating, and knock on it. The door opens.
INT. PRIVATE CHAMBER - MOMENTS LATER
There are yet more soldiers in the small, sparse space. These soldiers are in a small group, chatting and laughing.
One of the soldiers with Basil clears his throat. Announcing:
SOLDIER Basilius adest.
Several of the men step aside. At the centre of the group, a man stands leaning casually against a table. It is JULIAN (32), and unassuming-looking man with dark hair, pale eyes and a beard, dressed as a soldier.
Recognizing him immediately, Basil pales, drops his bag. Unripe FIGS bounce out from the bag onto the floor. He starts to lower himself to his knees, but Julian stops him:
JULIAN There's no need for that. Please, remain standing.
Straightening himself, head bowed, eyes lowered:
BASIL Lord.
Julian steps forward, away from the table.
JULIAN I heard you were in town. I hope you don't mind my stopping by.
BASIL You heard?
JULIAN Do you remember Marcus ... from our student days?
Basil thinks.
BASIL Short, skinny, eyes too close together?
JULIAN That’s him, though he’s not so skinny anymore. He lives here in Antioch. He visited me recently and mentioned that he’d seen you in the marketplace. I put in a few inquiries and well, here I am.
BASIL Here you are.
A tense pause. With a small smile:
JULIAN I understand you’re advising some of the local Christians on how to handle me.
BASIL Lord —
Putting up a hand:
JULIAN That’s not why I’m here. Really, I just wanted to see how you were. A visit with an old friend, if you're willing. I could use it. This city has not been so friendly to me.
Basil blinks, as though trying to process this.
BASIL Thank you, Lord, for your concern, but ... uh —
JULIAN I invited you to Constantinople. I was disappointed you did not come.
Basil’s eyes shift from Julian to the soldiers and back again.
BASIL I - I had planned to, initially, after I heard the news that - that the Emperor had died. But then I saw your army on the march. It was a fearsome sight. To think that my old, amiable school friend sat at the head of that army was difficult to comprehend. Even so, my plan was to go to you. (nervous breath) Until I saw that the standards waving above that army did not bear the cross of Christ, but images of the gods.
Basil straightens, sticks out his chin.
JULIAN I see.
The soldiers make room for Julian as he moves around the room, glancing casually at the books and other items.
JULIAN Please, tell me, what have you been up to? It's been so long since we've spoken. I miss the days we spent together in Athens.
BASIL Writing, studying, similar to what I was doing then. I would ask what you've been up to, Julian, but everyone knows — Forgive me, Lord, for being so informal.
JULIAN No, please, call me by my name as you always did. I wish to speak, friend to a friend. And I truly mean that. You may say whatever you wish to me and I swear you will suffer no consequence for it.
Julian notices one of the fallen figs on the floor right next to his boot. He bends over to pick it up, but —
SOLDIER Me sinas, dux!
The soldier swoops in and picks up the fig before Julian can touch it. Julian straightens. A brief flash of annoyance passes over his features, but then he smiles.
JULIAN Gratias. (motioning toward the other figs:) Quaeso, sinite nos adiuvare.
Suddenly all the soldiers are scrambling around picking up fruit and within seconds the figs are all back in the cloth bag and that bag has been handed back to a baffled Basil with a nod. Basil looks from the figs to Julian who smiles again.
We hear a commotion from the other room.
More soldiers bring a struggling GREGORY, a balding priest in his 30s, into the room.
GREGORY I told you I wasn't snooping, I was looking for a friend of mine. Unhand —
He SEES Julian, gasps and physically recoils.
SOLDIER Hunc virum foris rem suspectam agentem cepi, Generalis.
JULIAN Nil est. Hunc cognosco.
The soldiers release Gregory, who straightens his own clothing.
JULIAN Gregory, it's good to see you. You may relax, you're not in danger. I am here as a friend.
Gregory and Basil exchange glances. To Julian, cautious:
BASIL If that's true, will you extend the promise you made to me to Gregory as well?
JULIAN Certainly. I swear neither of you will be harmed no matter what you say to me today. But with you both here, I fear I am at a disadvantage.
Julian smiles good-naturedly. Basil and Gregory do not. They look at Julian’s armed men. Noting this:
JULIAN I shall, of course, dismiss my men, though they can't understand us; they don't speak Greek. So, you may feel free to speak to me uninhibited, as you always did. I prefer it.
To the soldiers:
JULIAN Quaeso, foris manete.
The soldiers give a quick salute and then file out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
Just the three of them now, Julian stands with his hands behind his back facing the two priests. Basil’s fingers tighten around his bag of figs.
BASIL Your - your soldiers address you as General?
JULIAN Oh ... yes, those men have been with me since Gaul. They are accustomed to it.
BASIL It's strange the things one can become accustomed to.
With a crooked smile and emphatic nod:
JULIAN That is indeed true.
Neither Gregory nor Basil smile.
Julian’s smile fades.
Basil points at the nearby table and chairs.
BASIL May - may we sit, Lord? My legs are feeling weak.
With a playful smile:
JULIAN Not on account of me, I hope.
Dead serious:
BASIL I have been walking.
JULIAN As you wish, Basil. I am at your service. And please, call me by my name.
No one moves.
It's getting uncomfortable.
Julian puts up a reassuring hand, crosses to the table and sits at one side. Then he motions for the others to do the same.
Cautiously Basil and Gregory walk over almost shoulder to shoulder and sit together on the other side of the table.
Amused:
JULIAN I see you both remain as close as you once were. I’m glad you haven't changed.
BASIL You have.
A brief pause, and then, stroking his beard:
JULIAN Ah yes, the beard. I am harangued about it endlessly. I dismissed every barber at Daphne to stop them waving their razors at me. Though at times I think it was not my beard they wanted to cut.
Julian laughs and then trails off when neither of the others so much as crack a smile.
BASIL Not the beard.
Julian's hand drifts from his beard to his knee. Then, smiling again, he looks at the ceiling:
JULIAN Do you remember when we were thrown out of that tavern? We'd had too much wine, and I believe it was you, Gregory, who knocked the whole jug across the table. Then I fell off my chair, and was drenched, and we couldn't stop laughing. And then the alley — that goose! It's a miracle we got out of there in one ... piece ...
Julian trails off when he realizes that both Basil and Gregory are still dead serious. He becomes serious, too, looks down.
JULIAN You are upset with me.
BASIL Why didn't you tell us?
JULIAN You know why. It was dangerous.
BASIL You did not trust us.
JULIAN I could not afford to trust, friends or anyone.
BASIL That is a lonely life.
JULIAN I survived.
BASIL You more than survived.
Glancing towards the door:
JULIAN This was the only way I could. I do not hold this position by choice.
BASIL Come now, Julian. You are Emperor against your will? You had nothing at all to do with it?
JULIAN I did not want to be Emperor, that is the truth, as the gods know. But I did want to live, so yes, I had something to do with it.
BASIL You deceive yourself, just as you deceived us. You say we were friends and yet you kept such secrets.
JULIAN I wanted to tell you. You especially, Basil. You are a wise man and I wanted your council. But I did not think ... I did not think you would accept me. I thought you would think me deluded or - or wicked.
BASIL And what is it you think of us?
Pause.
JULIAN You saw images of the gods on my banners, and for that reason alone you decided not to visit me. I was correct when I assumed you wouldn’t accept me.
BASIL We accept all, Christian, Jew and Pagan alike, but apostasy is a grave sin. We do not condone what you have done.
JULIAN I do not ask for your approval.
BASIL Isn't that why you're here?
Basil puts the bag of figs on the table between himself and Julian.
Julian leans back, considers the men. Basil looks directly at Julian, clearly unhappy. Gregory will not meet Julian's eyes.
JULIAN Homer and Virgil, Plato and Socrates, Euripides, Pindar and Cicero, each of those men and more, men I know you admire, worshipped the gods. Can it be so wrong to do as they did, to worship as they did, as all our ancestors did as far back as history remembers?
BASIL Those men lived before the truth was revealed. They did not know any better. We do. You have the truth and you reject it willfully. That is criminal.
JULIAN Does it not seem strange that God waited so long to reveal this truth to the world? Were men in the time of Aristotle or Zeno not wise enough to grasp it? Would not the world be better if those great men had been exposed to this truth and had the opportunity to weave it into their philosophies?
Still not making eye contact with Julian:
GREGORY He dares to judge God. He commits the ultimate blasphemy!
Looking at Gregory:
JULIAN I do not judge God, I question you ... By you I mean all the Christians and their claims. There is a difference. It seems to me that it's the Christians who blaspheme. You claim God's authority for yourselves.
BASIL We serve God. You uplift yourself against him and insult his church, mother and nurse of us all.
JULIAN I deny Christian authority, that is all. I deny your claim to know the truth of God down to the most trivial detail, so much so that you quibble over iotas and declare heretic any man who disagrees. This is all blasphemy to my mind.
Gregory makes a derisive sound.
GREGORY We should not be listening to this, Basil. He comes to shake our faith with lies.
JULIAN In what sense do I lie? He who speaks for God is God, practically speaking. That is the truth. Christians behave like corrupt regents to a missing king; they claim all the king's authority but have no true knowledge as to how the king would rule were he present.
BASIL The king is not missing. God is present through his word, Jesus Christ, and the holy scripture.
JULIAN There are a mess of holy scriptures, some you declare true, others you declare false, but based on what authority? It seems to me your only real authority was my uncle Constantine, who said "Let my will be the whole of the law." Constantine was guilty of many things, but humility wasn't one of them. He was guilty of murdering his wife and eldest son and of spending the bulk of his life dedicating things to himself — cities, monuments, whatever. There is your divine authority.
BASIL Again, you deceive yourself. Constantine was a sinner as we all are —
JULIAN We haven’t all murdered our relatives ... Christians will forgive anything, which is why the worst of all people are attracted to you.
BASIL God forgives those who repent sincerely. Constantine did so.
JULIAN You excuse his crimes.
BASIL People do change, Julian. You have proven that. Constantine changed as well, but in the other direction. He opened his eyes. He recognized the truth.
Julian releases a small laugh.
JULIAN Constantine had no interest in truth. "In this sign conquer," not "In this sign truth." He wanted to unite the empire under a single mighty religion and a single mighty ruler: himself. Christianity was politically convenient to that end. There was also the benefit of quelling an unruly and troublesome group of subjects, which the Christians were, and bringing them under imperial authority. Constantine was an opportunist, nothing more.
GREGORY He speaks of opportunism? A man like him, who has risen to be so high and great by giving himself to vile and honour-hating demons?
Irritated:
JULIAN You Christians see demons everywhere, perhaps because your delusions have dragged you, prematurely, into the Hell you so fear.
BASIL Ridiculous. Your attacks against us, or rather against yourself, are paltry. I look at you and I see a small, disheveled man lost in utter darkness, a man not to be feared so much as pitied. But when I think of you robed in purple, a crown on your dishonoured head, which, so long as true religion is absent, disgraces rather than graces your empire, I tremble.
Surprised, Julian shifts back in his chair.
JULIAN I did say you could say anything. I’m glad you've taken me at my word. I admit I am disheveled. I have never cared much for social graces. But small, pitiable, dishonoured? These are harsh words, Basil. Do you mean them?
BASIL You have called us prideful, deluded, blasphemous, did you mean those words?
Julian pauses, considers this.
JULIAN You’re right. This is not how I wanted this visit to go. Forgive me. I have spent too much time with surly philosophers. I forget my manners. I know we have our differences, we three, I know you are unhappy with me, but please know that my intentions are good. What I do, I do because I believe it to be right and true. (pause) Perhaps we should discuss something else, perhaps —
GREGORY Do not believe him, Basil! This is all a performance. He hides his true purpose under this mask of geniality and good intentions.
JULIAN And what is my true purpose?
GREGORY He wishes, in his strange infatuation with us, to drag us down into the abyss along with him, to subjugate the whole Christian family to his demons.
Crossing his arms:
JULIAN I am here in the room, Gregory. Why don’t you address me directly, or look me in the eye?
A pause in which Gregory stares stubbornly at the wall.
GREGORY One does not look directly into the eye of antichrist without being tainted by him, as he has tainted Rome.
Eyebrows up:
JULIAN I have tainted Rome? In your own scripture you call Rome Babylon, the mother of all whores and filthy practices, but now suddenly she is a pure thing I have tainted?
Still talking to the wall:
GREGORY To taint a whore is a singular accomplishment, indeed. Fortunately Christ's ministry extends to even the foulest of harlots.
JULIAN Really ... And when the whore that was Rome came calling in the guise of Constantine with sweet words and favours and thirty pieces of silver, did you minister to her or crawl into her bed? The hypocrisy of you Christians beggars belief. You claim to be our moral betters, but are not and that makes you worse, for you are both whores and hypocrites, whereas Rome is only guilty of the one crime.
GREGORY We come to save the whore that is Rome from her own depravity!
JULIAN Salvation in the next life for titles and tax breaks in this one?
Gregory looks Julian in the eye for the first time.
GREGORY And what do your pagans demand in exchange for their, shall we say, fluid wisdom?
JULIAN What are you implying?
GREGORY There were many things about you Basil and I failed to notice back in Athens, to our shame, but we did notice all the time you spent with certain philosophers who believed in no good above pleasure.
JULIAN You speak to me directly for the first time, and it’s with innuendo. Say what you wish to say.
GREGORY And mention the unmentionable? I am ashamed to repeat what I heard, and will not do so for your pleasure.
A hesitant pause.
JULIAN I guarantee, I will get no pleasure from —
GREGORY The philosophers in question had reputations, as we all knew. Their wisdom flowed freely to those willing to, ahem, partake. And, rumour has it, you were most willing, an eager partaker in all manner of ... vulgar enjoyment.
Julian frowns.
JULIAN This is unseemly. Who started these rumours? Christians wanting to denigrate me?
GREGORY It’s common knowledge. There are men who boast openly of your secret doings together. Of how they deceived you with lies and flattery, of how they led you into dark and foul smelling sanctuaries, of how they convinced you to strip naked and cover yourself in unhallowed blood to rid yourself of your Christian baptism. Of how you sacrificed victims down there in the darkness, and read nonsense in entrails. Of how you submitted yourself to the demon, and performed acts the pagans call enthusiasms, to put a handsome word on it. Of how the demons entered even into your mind, and made you their servant. You serve those demons still, it is said, to convince yourself that those vile proceedings were not in vain.
Julian's eyebrows have risen as high as they can.
JULIAN Is this truly what you say about me? In your churches and in your prayer meetings?
GREGORY Do you deny it?
JULIAN Must I deny it?
No longer making eye contact:
GREGORY Then he confesses.
JULIAN To a blood baptism and - and fornication with demons? You can’t be serious.
BASIL You did participate in the pagan rites? You were initiated?
Julian looks from Basil to Gregory and back again. There is a sense that he is being ganged up on:
JULIAN Well, yes, but you don’t believe —
BASIL Please do not lie to us again, deny what we know to be true, even now.
JULIAN What you know to be true? You repeat these - these obscenities, demand I confess to them or brand me a liar. This is not rhetoric, it is rudeness.
GREGORY He has already branded himself a liar, an apostate, a traitor to God. It is clear he has no shame, and yet now in our presence he turns blushing and bashful.
Flustered:
JULIAN I - I may have lied in the past, but that does not mean —
GREGORY He has insulted God. Why deny his other depravities?
JULIAN I am no longer a Christian so I must be guilty of every crime imaginable?
BASIL You are an apostate, so what should prevent you from committing every crime imaginable?
JULIAN You think only Christians capable of morality?
BASIL Where does your morality come from if not from God?
GREGORY Perhaps it comes from the sophists he surrounds himself with, who mock him behind his back for his gullibility while draining the imperial coffers dry.
A surprised pause.
JULIAN If that's true, then - then I have been too trusting and generous. Is that your complaint?
BASIL Dissemble if you must, Julian, for it is in your nature, but don't you dare judge us on moral grounds after all you have done.
Julian pulls it together, straightens.
JULIAN What I have done is disagree with you, yes, in part on moral grounds. But I can't help but note that while I criticize your religion as a whole, you attack me personally. I have noticed this is a common thing with Christians, rather than respond to arguments directly, you try to destroy the man making them. But we know each other personally. Can we not discuss our differences without demeaning each other this way?
Gregory rolls his eyes, stands and faces the wall.
BASIL If our words have demeaned you, it is only because you have first demeaned yourself, in both body and soul. We do not know you. We never did. This conversation is proof of that as anything else. You have a sharp tongue, which in the past you kept silent. I think we have only met you, the real you, today for the first time.
JULIAN You erase our friendship from memory. Yes, I kept things from you but the man I was is the man I am. I have been nothing but kind to you both. I protected you —
BASIL If we needed protection, it was because you put us in danger.
JULIAN That would have been true whether or not I was a Christian. You may not have known all my thoughts, but you always knew who I was and the dangers of getting close to me. So why did you? Did you want to be my friend or seek the favours of the whore of Babylon, who you knew I might become?
BASIL Who you have become.
Shaking his head:
JULIAN I don’t understand this hostility. I don’t care that you are Christians, I don’t even care if you were once using me, such a whore am I. We should be able to refute and criticize each other honestly, and still love one another as the most devoted friends. I have valued you both and it would sadden me greatly if I thought our friendship was over.
BASIL I am saddened greatly. In truth, I have shed bitter tears over your so rapid ruin. To think how the three of us learned together the lessons of the best and holiest books. Each of us went through the sacred and God-inspired scriptures, and still you fell into darkness.
Pacing behind Basil:
GREGORY If only he could be made to read the scriptures again so that he might finally understand them. (slapping his palm:) And then again and again and again for as long as it takes until the words leave their marks.
JULIAN And what next, a flogging? (annoyed pause) You remind me of what it is to be a Christian, to live in a state of endless penance for the crime of being human. I have read, I have understood, and I reject.
BASIL What you read you did not understand! If you had understood, you would not reject!
JULIAN I don't know how you can be so certain. It seems to me that any man who claims certainty about the nature of God is either deluded or lying. You cannot know. It’s impossible. Life is too short and the problem is too complex. You should have some humility in the face of such mystery.
GREGORY For a man like him to speak of humility is perverse. He who has the temerity to rebuke God.
Raising his voice:
JULIAN I have not now, nor have I ever, rebuked God! I rebuke you, the Christians, for your claim to know the truth of him! On what basis do your claims rest, anyway? The wisdom of philosophy relies on reason, on logos. You stole logos from us, declared ownership of it by nailing the body of a dead man to it in the most sacrilegious way. You use pagan philosophical concepts to justify Christian claims and in doing so complicate matters needlessly, making the actual truth all the more distant and unknowable to you. This is why you must inevitably fall back on faith and fear and power. Your claims cannot survive the light of reason and so you latch onto any authority you can find to enforce them. Whether it's the fabricated authority of your church hierarchy, which you war about endlessly, or coup of all coups, the capture of a Roman Emperor. This is why you are so upset with me. Without the power of Rome behind you, you are just another cult making just another claim.
BASIL Nonsense. We have not stolen logos, we have fulfilled it. The word was always meant to become flesh. Can you not see that your reason is empty? Your wisdom, without substance? That is why the masses abandon it. We do not need the help of any worldly power. God is our authority. What other force could bring both slaves and kings to their knees? We do not need Rome. Rome needs us.
Brief silence.
JULIAN A plague.
BASIL What?
JULIAN A plague could bring both slaves and kings to their knees, or an invading army. Rome has stood for over a thousand years without you robed invaders. We did not need you then, and we do not need you now.
BASIL You need us ... more than you know.
The two men maintain eye contact.
Looking away:
JULIAN Well, you certainly have left your mark ... in ways we’ll not soon recover from. But as lovely as toppled statues and desecrated temples are, somehow I feel we could have done without these things.
Basil throws his hands in the air, exasperated.
BASIL It’s impossible to speak to you. You have become lost to proper feeling. You put all your faith in your rational mind, despite how clearly fallible it is. It has made you resentful.
Julian frowns.
JULIAN I have been resentful in the past, I will admit. God knows I’ve had reason. But I am also grateful to be alive. By the grace of the gods, I alone of the line of Constantine still stand. It is gratitude that drives me now, a wish to repay the forces that have favoured me.
BASIL It is not the gods who have preserved you.
JULIAN You think me preserved by the devil?
BASIL I think you possessed by him.
Julian looks away. There is a long silence.
Then, quietly:
JULIAN You thought well of me once. I was a pagan then as I am now, though you did not know it.
BASIL Because you deceived us! (pause then quieter:) The gall you had, studying for the priesthood in our company and worshipping demons behind our backs. You treated us like fools.
JULIAN That was not my intention. You must understand the position I was in. I lived every day with a sword dangling over my head —
BASIL You used us as a shield! You thought if you feigned interest in the priesthood, if you spent your time with Christian men, the Emperor would not suspect you for what you really were.
Pause.
JULIAN When we first met, It did occur to me that you were the sort of men the Emperor would approve of and so I made efforts to get to know you, but once I did, I enjoyed your company, genuinely. There were times when I almost, when I was about to tell you, but —
BASIL But you didn’t. You lied to us, you lied to the Emperor, you lie to yourself. The devil inspires lies.
JULIAN If I had told the truth, Constantius would have had my head, and whenever I considered telling you, I did wonder - I do wonder, if - if you would have turned me in.
Julian looks at Basil pointedly, silently asking him to answer the assumption.
Basil looks away.
BASIL Is this what you tell yourself? What trust, what bravery your philosophy inspires. We Christians would never deny the truth, even at the risk of our lives.
JULIAN But your lives are not at risk, not from me. No man fears telling me he’s a Christian and no man dared tell Constantius he was anything else. There is the difference between our philosophies. If the devil inspires lies, then it is your religion that is possessed by it.
GREGORY Criminals lie because they fear justice and the light of truth!
Hitting the table:
JULIAN To worship the gods is no crime! (pause, then quieter:) If those who have committed no crime, who have done no wrong feel compelled to lie to you, then it is you who must be in error.
BASIL The lie is the error, Julian, whatever your justification.
Shaking his head bitterly:
JULIAN I don’t think it’s the lie you take issue with but the truth that was behind it. If I had been a secret Christian in hiding from a Pagan tyrant, would you be scolding me now?
GREGORY Another evasion ... to avoid the truth of his own cowardice.
JULIAN It’s easy to be courageous when you face no true threat, as you are both demonstrating now. You speak to me so freely because you know I will not harm you.
BASIL As you promised. Was that a lie, as well?
JULIAN No. I meant only that my philosophy is one of tolerance.
BASIL Tolerance, yes of course, that’s what you want the world to believe. And yet there were many Emperors under whom it was dangerous to admit oneself a Christian, and you know that very well, Emperors who shared your tolerant philosophy. And your policies now make it equally dangerous for us, albeit in more subtle ways. As for Constantius, he tolerated pagans across the empire and did not persecute them.
Julian opens his mouth to protest, but Basil keeps going:
BASIL You in particular were at risk, that is true, but only because you were a risk to the whole empire. You were not some shepherd or goat herder who had turned apostate, but a man who might become Emperor and do precisely what you are doing now. And yes, if Constantius had found you out, if he’d had an inkling of what you would become, he would have had your head and rightly so, to prevent this - this travesty of a reign.
Julian looks away, eyes smouldering.
JULIAN Then you would have turned me in ...
Now Basil looks away.
JULIAN You have berated me almost since I arrived for lying to you, all the while knowing if I had told you the truth, you would have damned me.
GREGORY A criminal should be damned, both for his crime and his attempts to conceal it.
JULIAN If I am a criminal because I am a pagan, then so are half the citizens of Rome.
BASIL You are an apostate, which is infinitely worse than either ... But had you told us the truth years ago, you would have had our respect for that, at the very least.
JULIAN Oh, what a comfort that would have been as I faced my executioner. I'm sure I would have cherished your respect, right up until my head hit the floor ... One more for the pile my Christian cousin lopped off for no reason.
GREGORY Oh, there was reason.
Julian glares.
JULIAN I’m in your way, that is the reason. I’m the only thing that stands between you Christians and total domination of the Empire.
Basil sighs.
BASIL We have no wish to dominate Empires, only to serve God. And if you wish to avoid punishment beyond anything you can imagine, you will repent and do the same.
Emotion showing:
JULIAN You say you have no wish to dominate and yet you chastise me, you - you threaten me with punishment, as if you are my masters and I am some rebellious slave.
Silence.
GREGORY We are all of us slaves to God, including emperors.
JULIAN How convenient that is for you who represent God on earth, or so you say. I did serve the Christian god once, and was forced to pretend I did for many years after. It involved an awful lot of kneeling before men like you. My predecessor spent half his reign inside those charnel houses you call churches down on his knees.
BASIL Which is where you would be, too, if you had any sense.
Julian scoffs.
JULIAN And you accuse me of gall. This is the worst kind of hubris. And I do not say this because of my position. You should not make such demands of any man, particularly when it's you and your ilk who stand on the dais.
BASIL It's not a demand. It’s advice.
JULIAN You advise me to humiliate myself?
BASIL To suffer for religion's sake is no humiliation. To kneel before men but not before God, that is the true indignity.
GREGORY He has no dignity. He has spent a lifetime on his knees at the feet of Constantius, cowering in fear that that good and honourable man might discover his impiety.
Julian glares at Gregory.
JULIAN We were friends once, Gregory. How can you say this to me? How can you stand here in my presence and call my father’s killer a good and honourable man?
Silence.
Then, said like an Emperor:
JULIAN Sit down.
Gregory pauses, gaze faltering. Then he does as commanded and sits.
Julian glares for a long moment and then looks away and finally looks down.
JULIAN (quietly:) I was only Julian, then. Whatever shame I brought to myself is mine alone to bear. I did not hold this position. (eye contact again:) And If I were still only Julian and a shepherd or a goat herder, none of you would care what I think. There is a reason the rebellion of this slave in particular has caused such an uproar. It's Rome you want, whose representative I am. When I refuse to kneel, so does she, and that is the issue.
GREGORY If he were a shepherd or a goat herder, he could not persecute us!
JULIAN I do not persecute you! You only tell yourselves that to justify your hatred of me. And with the two of you, I am trying very hard not to take it personally, to believe that if you had handed me over to my death years ago, you would have felt some remorse about it. For you must know that I am not an evil man.
BASIL What about George?
Confused pause.
JULIAN George?
BASIL Bishop George. We met him, Gregory and I. He told us of the years he spent with you when you were at leisure in Cappadocia. You knew him better and longer than either of us. And you let him die. He was torn apart by a mob of pagans and you let it happen. Do you feel remorse for that?
Thrown:
JULIAN I was not there. I - I did not find out about George's death until weeks later. There was nothing I could have done.
BASIL You did nothing to punish his killers.
JULIAN It was a riot, a - a crazed mob. If I could identify the individuals responsible, I would punish them. I reprimanded the entire city.
BASIL You wrote them a letter, a letter I read. It was paltry. You hardly mentioned George, but you did mention the dead man's library, which you asked to be sent to you in Constantinople. Is this how you treat your old friends, you look the other way while they are murdered and then scavenge their belongings like a vulture?
Now Julian stares at the wall, arms and legs both crossed, seeming to consider what he will say.
Finally, quietly:
JULIAN I was not living at leisure in Cappadocia. I was a prisoner and George was my jailor. Did he omit that little detail? Old friends, indeed. I did request George's library. Those books are the only good memories I have of those years, and that includes my memories of George. So you will forgive me if I did not shed a tear over his passing. But I agree that he should not have died in that way. I didn’t wish that on him. And had I been there, I would have tried to stop it.
GREGORY (scoffing:) A prisoner? He was a guest at the Emperor's hunting lodge at Macellum. Some prison.
JULIAN I was an unwilling guest! My brother and I were interned for six years at Macellum, watched constantly, our every word, our every move recorded and reported to the Emperor and we were not allowed to leave. If that does not describe a prison, I don't know what does.
Basil frowns.
BASIL I remember you mentioning your years at Macellum to us back in Athens. You did not say you were imprisoned.
JULIAN I could not say I was imprisoned. That would have meant criticizing the Emperor. And I didn't want to talk about it, at any rate. I still don't. As for George, I can't imagine he would have been too proud of those years, either.
BASIL Are you suggesting he mistreated you in some way?
Julian looks away, arms still crossed.
GREGORY He dares to slander a man who was murdered? And a Bishop, no less?
Gregory crosses himself.
JULIAN George was a Christian and so he was a good man. I am an apostate, and so I am wicked. That's all you need to know. Details be damned ... I don’t want to talk about George, but for my part, I treat you fairly, I do not persecute you. I have passed an edict of universal religious tolerance. I have allowed exiled Christians to return to their homes. I have not harmed a single Christian for being a Christian.
Gregory rolls his eyes.
GREGORY The only reason he invited back exiled Christians is because those Christians are heretics! He seeks to divide the church by encouraging conflict and chaos among us. He wants us quarrelling and at each others' throats rather than united as one against him.
JULIAN No one is stopping you from uniting against me, if that’s what you wish. But you cannot unite, even when the times call for it, because the spirit that possesses you is so fragile and belligerent. I may be guilty of exploiting that weakness, but I can only do so because such a weakness exists. No beasts are so dangerous to man as Christians are to each other, or so the saying goes. Perhaps you should ask yourselves why that is, consider the log in your own eye, instead of complaining about me. Besides, why should I exile men who have committed no crime apart from heresy? You disagree with these men on a mere iota of Christian doctrine. If they should be exiled, then what should be done with me?
GREGORY Shall we answer that question?
JULIAN I'd rather you didn't.
BASIL You do persecute us, but the way you do it is insidious and sly. The worst example by far is that you bar all Christians from teaching the classics.
JULIAN Not exactly martyrdom ...
BASIL Why have you done it if not to persecute?
Julian drums his fingers impatiently.
JULIAN It’s interesting to me that you should consider it a persecution, to be deprived of pagan thought and pagan literature. I would have thought I had done you a favour. I have freed you from the pollution of profane writing so that you might focus exclusively on your pure Christian scripture. Is that not a good thing?
A pause in which Basil scowls over Julian's sarcasm, and then, condescending:
BASIL The depth of thought contained in Holy Scripture is difficult for most to comprehend ... some more than others. We use the shallow literature of the pagans to train immature minds and prepare them for the direct light of the gospels. Pagan writings do contain some simple truths, after all, in the same way that a lake may contain a reflection of the sun.
Julian scoffs.
JULIAN You think there’s no depth in a lake, but that it’s wise to stare at the sun? Well, please, keep at it, and see where it gets you. This is precisely why I passed the edict. Christians use classical learning, which you call profane, as a weapon to indoctrinate our youth. You teach the eloquence and the arts of the Greeks while belittling our philosophers, disparaging our gods and degrading the civilization that birthed you. You have your gospels, your word of God, is that not enough? You must ravish the achievements of the gods as well?
BASIL This is bitter revenge.
JULIAN It’s not revenge, it’s fortification.
BASIL You injure us with this edict, terribly. You know how much Gregory and I value oratory. We have sacrificed and toiled, travelled by land and sea to master it. And now, with a wave of your hand, you take it from us.
Julian pauses, considers this. Then, with a tinge of impatience:
JULIAN I could make an exception for you both, if that’s what you desire.
BASIL No, Julian, no. We could never accept such a thing. To benefit from our once friendship while other Christians suffer.
JULIAN Suffer? Basil, really, this is dramatic.
BASIL It’s our right to speak and to teach and to sway others with our words.
JULIAN And you may do so, you may teach your Christian scripture to your heart's content. What you may not do is use the gifts of this civilization to tear it down.
BASIL It’s you who is being dramatic. Christians have no wish to tear down civilization. We are a part of it, an integral part —
JULIAN And so are the gods and the traditions you scorn. I don’t understand how you can see yourselves as a part of this civilization while believing yourselves apart from and above it. Where is your respect for the foundations you stand upon? Where is your gratitude?
A long silence. All three men have their arms crossed.
Finally, quietly:
BASIL We stand upon a different foundation — truth. The truth of Christ, who gave his life so that we might live, so that you might live. You flout his sacrifice.
JULIAN You think I owe a debt? You think my allegiance, my soul and that of all of humanity was purchased with the blood of an innocent man? How can you believe this is true? More than that, how can you believe it is good?
BASIL Of course you see only a blood sacrifice ... but Christ’s story did not end in death. He rose again. He triumphed over evil and death itself, so that you, so that all of us, might do the same.
Silence.
Some of the figs have loosened from the bag. One of them sits close to Julian. Two others sit near Basil and Gregory. Julian’s hand rests on the table next to the fig.
Thoughtful:
JULIAN The crucifixion is a mysterious image ... the perfect goodness of your Nazarene and the perfect evil of his torture and death balanced on those wooden beams like a teeterboard.
Surprised:
BASIL Yes, that’s right, until good triumphs over evil as it always must. That is the hope and the glory of the resurrection.
Another pause.
JULIAN And yet ... in attempting to reach the lofty purity of Christ, men inevitably slide into the evil that exists alongside. For we are human and incapable of such perfection. Christianity is a trap.
Julian pulls his hand back from the table.
Basil frowns and sits back in his chair.
BASIL What a way to see things. Your mind is treacherous! Christ is a perfection that none of us can reach. We know that.
JULIAN But you behave as though you already know perfection — perfect knowledge, perfect truth, the one true god and the perfect path to him. You are like Icarus, the lot of you, dressed up in perfect wings but destined to fall.
BASIL We do not say we can achieve perfection, but it does exist. Have you forgotten your Plato? There is a perfect form of all things. Christ is the perfection of man, a model of perfect goodness for us to reach for. He conquered evil.
JULIAN I don’t see how laying down with evil, allowing it to do whatever it wishes to you unchallenged, can possibly be a good thing. This would only strengthen evil, not conquer it.
BASIL Why did Christ sacrifice himself? He did it for love. For all of us.
JULIAN It would be wrong for us to ask such a thing of him, to accept such a sacrifice. His submission for us makes us complicit in the crime of his torture and death. It makes us guilty, all of us, for all time. This is why men like you, who feel yourselves absolved in some sense for your devotion, feel justified in demanding punishment and penance of men like me. It is not God who has convicted me, it is you.
BASIL No, no, this is wrong. Christ did not lay down with evil. He gave himself to break sin’s power, our sins, the very thing that keeps us separate from God. His death was not our crime. He offered himself willingly. Evil thrives on struggle, on the lie that force can drive it out. But Christ destroyed that lie, not by force, but by rising, unbroken and triumphant. There is no debt implied there. His sacrifice was a gift.
JULIAN There are some gifts that should not be given ... or taken. How can I accept the gift of a man’s torture and death? I cannot accept that. I will not. If I must be damned for it, then so be it.
BASIL The worst of all angels is one who has fallen, who has convinced himself in his pride that his rebellion is just, that his betrayal is noble and good.
JULIAN I agree. But am I the fallen one or are you?
GREGORY This is pride. He twists everything. Demons control his every move! They own his allegiance, body and soul, and through him they persecute —
JULIAN Look at me, Gregory! Say my name, address me directly! You show me contempt, speaking about me as if I am not here!
Gregory looks at Julian.
Then softly:
GREGORY Have I offended our most tranquil and unconquered Lord?
Julian scowls, crosses his arms and looks away.
BASIL Gregory is right. This is pride. You say we have convicted you, but you have convicted us just as harshly. Are you so righteous that you alone see clearly, you alone know what is just and good?
JULIAN I haven’t said that.
BASIL But you are saying it. You have weighed the faith of millions and found it wanting, not good enough, not perfect enough for you. Are you so much wiser than the rest of us?
JULIAN No ... of course not.
GREGORY On that, at least, we agree. But you do judge us, Lord, and you persecute us, whether or not you want to admit it. And your persecution is more dangerous than Diocletian's or Maximian's or —
JULIAN Under whose reigns you collected all your precious martyrs?
GREGORY He denies his ... YOU deny your persecution of us, just as you deny us the honour of martyrdom.
JULIAN Unbelievable. You condemn those other emperors for martyring you and me for not martyring you.
BASIL Those emperors attacked our bodies, you strike at our souls. You know exactly what you are doing, don't insult us by pretending otherwise. If we can’t teach the classics, then we cannot teach at all. Grammar, rhetoric, philosophy all rely on classical learning. If your edict persists, then in two generations, no educated man will have even heard the word of God.
JULIAN You're right. I do know what I'm doing. I am making a point. Without classical learning you have nothing because your gospels are nothing but a patchwork of fictions ripped from the cloth of older, wiser, and richer traditions. Your only innovation is the glorification of martyrdom, a mania for heresy and a demand for authority over those you have stolen from. I will not lift the edict. I regret that it has inconvenienced you both, but the edict stands.
BASIL You are in error.
JULIAN I disagree. You Christians would like to make that impossible. You say that I strike at your souls, but it is we, our history, our legacy, our way of life, that is under siege. I do not attack, I defend. I protect our inheritance, our traditions, our temples and great works; I protect our right to hold an opinion other than yours.
GREGORY It’s too late for that. We Christians are blessed in ways that damn you. You say we have nothing, but we already dominate all the places that belong to you — the schools, the forts, the exchanges, the military camps themselves. I'd wager half the soldiers outside that door are Christians.
Julian glances at the door, eyes faltering.
GREGORY Just as I thought. Everyday another pagan worshiper becomes a reviler of the old state of things and you who cling to it. The pagans who once persecuted us are hooted at now by mobs in the cities and the market-places. The gods themselves are pulled down from their pillars by the very men who put them up. We have taken everything but your temples, empty now and echoing. And when you are gone, we will take those, too, and rejoice, for your impiety will finally be muzzled. This is inevitable. One man cannot hold back a deluge regardless of who he is. You cannot win.
A long silence.
Julian is rattled.
Speaking softly:
JULIAN You may be right ... but the genius of Rome is inside of me now, dying ember though it may be, and I will fight to my last breath to keep it alive.
GREGORY Of course you will, you are a traitor like Judas, except in not ending your life with a halter, as he did.
BASIL Gregory!
A long pause in utter silence.
Finally Basil clears his throat.
Cautiously:
BASIL It is a serious thing for private individuals like Gregory and me to speak as we have today to an Emperor ... (pause, then stern:) But it will be more serious still for you to speak to God. You speak of the right to heresy, the right to apostasy, but there is no such right. There is only truth and error. And error has no rights.
Another pause, then, cold:
JULIAN Error has no rights. That idea alone is what makes you Christians so dangerous and so wrong. You show a total lack of humility in the face of what you are and what you can and cannot know for certain. This is why you forgive a man like Constantine who murdered his own kin, and condemn me, though I have done nothing but disagree with you.
BASIL It is not we who have condemned you. To be in error is to be separated from God and salvation, to dwell in sin and, in time, to be met with the most terrific suffering. This is a lesson you seem determined to learn the hard way.
JULIAN More talk of punishment. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you both, but you don’t have the power to teach me this lesson. Not yet, by heaven.
GREGORY We Christians have no need to punish you. We conquer all who oppress us with clemency, for we know that a time will come when all the wicked will be judged and tormented.
Cheeky:
JULIAN Is that clemency? I'm not sure that it is.
GREGORY I would not be so glib if I were you. Punishments are in store in the world to come, make no mistake, and it shall not be heaven that doles them out but the very demons you live to gratify.
JULIAN I should not like to spend time in your imagination, Gregory. I don’t think I would fare well there.
GREGORY Again you make light, protected as you are from any consequence. But a time will come when you will wish you had suffered more in this world, that just men had seized you sooner and forced you back by whatever means were necessary, so that you might have avoided the yet juster punishment that is to come.
JULIAN Just men? Like the two of you?
GREGORY You mock us, but you would have been fortunate if either Basil or I had discovered you back in Athens. We might have —
Gregory stops himself.
JULIAN You might have what? Say it. I am more convinced with every word that your beliefs are not only wrong but evil.
GREGORY That is because the present life is all you see; you cannot reach with your mind into the next. But I know what is to come for you, Julian —
JULIAN Ah! Finally, he says my name.
GREGORY A name that will live in infamy as the first of the Christians to have plotted rebellion against your master. And as the first, you will suffer more severely than anyone else, mark my words. And I shall see what becomes of you in the end. You shall be visible to all men in all places, hung upon a tree like the serpent you are, your body stripped and scourged, pierced, and broken, over and over again, never coming to an end, always renewed as you wail and scream. You shall be held up for all time as a warning to those that remain never to attempt such a rebellion against God, lest they meet with the same retribution.
Julian and Gregory continue to hold eye contact.
JULIAN What you describe ... sounds like a crucifixion.
Outraged:
GREGORY You dare compare yourself to Christ?
JULIAN No. I compare you to his killers, for your desires are the same, to make a brutal example of one you view as a renegade.
Standing abruptly, aggressively:
GREGORY How dare you!
JULIAN Raise a hand to me, Gregory, and that is treason!
Gregory freezes. He glances toward the door. In a lower voice:
GREGORY And - and so your pretence that this was a friendly discussion falls away?
JULIAN Friends do not fantasize about the eternal torture of friends. Now sit down and pull yourself together.
Gregory sits immediately, almost missing the chair. The fig, which had been closest to Julian, has now rolled right to the edge of the table.
In a measured voice:
JULIAN My father, my brothers, my uncle and six of my cousins were murdered, as you both know, by one man. I have harboured ... anger toward that man, as one would expect, but never have I once wished upon him what you have just wished upon me. I don’t understand where this hatred comes from. I have done you no wrong.
GREGORY You have betrayed God!
JULIAN You are not God! Perhaps you don't realize that, which is why you take this so personally.
There is a knock on the door.
JULIAN Intra!
A soldier sticks his head into the room.
SOLDIER Ignosce nobis, Generalis, sed voces altas audivimus. Opusne nobis est?
A pause. Not taking his eyes off Basil and Gregory:
JULIAN Ita, quaeso, intrate.
As Julian's men file back into the room and take their stations behind him:
BASIL Why do you call back your men? You swore we would not be harmed. Will you go back on your word?
Standing up:
JULIAN No. But I came here believing I was visiting a friend, one I had disagreements with, but a friend still. Instead, I find myself sitting across from two enemies. And it has occurred to me just now that neither of you fears martyrdom.
BASIL Whatever we think of you, we are not assassins.
JULIAN I don't know what you are. I don't understand you.
Julian crosses to the window, his soldiers making room for him, and then gazes outside.
A long silence, then:
JULIAN I have been thinking much lately of the Emperor Valerian. He was captured by the enemy after his failed campaign at Edessa. It is said that King Shapur I kept Valerian alive and humiliated him, even using the poor man as a footstool to mount his horse. I am about to march an army on Persia aware that, should I be captured alive, I could be met with the same treatment.
Julian turns and faces Basil and Gregory.
JULIAN But such treatment at the hands of a foreign enemy is to be expected. What I did not expect was that enemies inside my empire intend for me so much worse. We were friends once, the three of us, but because of our theological differences you wish me humiliated and tortured beyond anything Valerian endured. What must the Christians who were never my friends wish for me? I am baffled by all of this. You are enemies I don’t understand and so I do fear you, more than I fear King Shapur II and the entire Persian army, who I am about to face.
BASIL The only threat to you in this room, Julian, is you. But you are right that you don’t understand us, just as we don't understand you. On the one hand you insult God, which is mad and dangerous in the extreme, on the other you play the benevolent ruler; you pass laws meant to help the poor and widows and orphans, the actions of a merciful and kindly man. You bar Christians from classical learning, denying us our freedom to speak and to teach, but then here with us you allow us to say whatever we wish directly to you and have remained restrained and true to your word, though God knows we have tested you. Are these your clumsy attempts to cure the great wound between you and God? If so, then I must tell you that such petty remedies are to the last degree ridiculous and will not save you in the end.
JULIAN It never occurs to you that I might be a principled man with principled objections to your ideas. You are so certain of yourselves ... I am saddened by this entire exchange. I have loved you both as dear friends, but to know now what you think of me. In truth, I am wounded by it.
GREGORY Good.
A pause in which Julian looks away. He nods to the soldiers and they start for the door.
At the same time, the fig that had been at the edge of the table nearest Julian, finally tips over and falls onto the floor, where it smashes.
Julian looks back at the fallen fig, seemingly disturbed by it. Then again he turns to leave.
At the same time, Basil seems to debate something internally and then, standing:
BASIL Julian.
Julian stops, and turns to look at Basil.
BASIL I ... I hear you are an ... impressive general. It is strange to think it.
A pause.
JULIAN Stranger still for me.
BASIL They say the King of Persia fears you as he did not fear Constantius.
JULIAN So they say.
Piping up:
GREGORY And what about the Christians? You have declared war on us as well. Should we fear you?
JULIAN I am at war with empires and principalities not with individuals. We shall see how ... impressive a general I am in the end.
BASIL I will pray for you, Julian, for your soul.
A pause. Julian takes one last glance at the fallen fig, looks back at Basil and nods. Then he leaves followed by his men.
END.
Addendum
In the real history Julian died not long after his stay in Antioch. He was mortally wounded on the battlefield by a spear to the side. We do not know who threw it.
Later tales say Basil did pray, not for Julian’s soul, but for his death. As the story goes, the ghost of a martyr named Mercurius visited the young priest and promised to wield the “holy” weapon that would take the life of the man he once called friend.
Ever since, amongst some Christians, Mercurius is credited with killing Julian at Basil’s request.
***
Thank you for reading.
Keep in mind seed warfare and the God of this world ie Lucifer vs the Kingdom of Heaven and the separation and santification and battle the Christian faces vs the atheist, bc that's the dogma you intertwine obviously, to not mold and make yourself in the image of Christ was at play here. I'm still processing.
The unknown God is ultimately what Julian worshiped and if true re rights and such then which unknown God was worshiped? A good general wins wars with rivers of blood, but pushing martyrdom and sacrifice involved in paganism does not say what Paul was saying regarding the unknown God. Based on early church politics and the time needed and that you have a skewed vision as Christian has always been more tolerant to the point of weaponized empathy against the Christian that the pagan does not deal with is observable throughout the ages.