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But the gods?

The gods—they are far away.

Yes, your gods are far away; they hamper no one; they are a burden to no one; they leave a man elbow-room for action. Oh, that Greek happiness, that sense of freedom!

You said that the Emperor, vengeful as he is, will pour out the blood of my friends. Yes, who can doubt that? Was Knodomar spared? Did not that harmless captive pay with his life for an error of language? For—I know it, Sallust—they killed him; that tale about the barbarian's homesickness was a lie. Then what may not we expect? In what a hateful light must not Decentius have represented matters in Rome?

That you may best understand from the hasty flight of the court to Antioch.

And am I not my army's father, Sallust?

The soldiers' father; their wives' and children's buckler and defence.

And what will be the fate of the empire should I waver now? A decrepit Emperor, and after him a helpless child, upon the throne; faction and