e would be decided by
public competition, and it was rumoured that this would partake of the
nature of an ordeal by fire and water. Nothing further had transpired
except that the arrangements had been settled by the Governor and
Archbishop in concert with two strangers, a dingy Libyan and a handsome
young Greek, neither of whom was known in the city, but in both of whom the
authorities seemed to repose entire confidence. At the appointed time the
people flocked into the theatre, and found the stage already occupied by
the parties chiefly concerned. The Governor and the Archbishop sat in the
centre on their tribunals: the competitors stood on each side, Pachymius
backed by the demon, Nonnus by Apollo; both these supporters, of course,
appearing to the assembly in the light of ordinary mortals. Nonnus
recognised Apollo perfectly, but Pachymius's limited powers of intelligence
seemed entirely engrossed by the discomfort visibly occasioned him by the
proximity of an enormous brass vessel of water, close to which burned a
bright fire. Nonnus was also ill at ease, and continually directed his
attention to a large package, of the contents of which he seemed
instinctively cognisant.

All being ready, the Governor rose from his seat, and announced that, with
the sanction of his Grace the Archbishop, the invidious task of
determining between the claims of two such highly qualified competitors had
been delegated to two gentlemen in the enjoyment of his full confidence,
who would proceed to apply fitting tests to the respective candidates.
Should one fail and the other succeed, the victor would of course be
instituted; should both undergo the probation successfully, new criterions
of merit would be devised; should both fall short, both would be set aside,
and the disputed mitre would be conferred elsewhere. He would first summon
Nonnus, long their fellow-citizen, and now their fellow-Christian, to
submit himself to the test proposed.

Apollo now rose, and proclaimed in an audible voice, "By virtue of the
authority committed to me I call upon Nonnus of Panopolis, candidate for
the bishopric of his native city, to demonstrate his fitness for the same
by consigning to the flames with his own hands the forty-eight execrable
books of heathen poetry composed by him in the days of his darkness and
blindness, but now without doubt as detestable to him as to the universal
body of the faithful." So saying, he made a sign to an attendant, th