Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/400

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What avail all our gods against this one?

No offering! No worship! 'Twill incense the terrible one against us.

Oh fools! You fear to incense a man long dead,—a false prophet—you shall have proof of it. He is a liar, I say! Wait but a little longer. Every day, every hour, may bring tidings from Jerusalem

, much travel-stained, enters hastily, with a few followers, from the right.

Most gracious Emperor, pardon your servant for seeking you here.

[With a cry of joy.] Jovian! Oh welcome news-bearer!

I come direct from Judea. I learned at the palace that you were here

Oh, ever-praiseworthy gods,—yon setting sun shall not go down upon the lie. How far have you progressed? Speak, my Jovian!

[With a glance at the crowd.] Sire, shall I tell all?