ill at last a decree of the Emperor
Theodosius prohibited the performance of heathen plays or music.

Now, the theatre at Tauromenium, for which Karnis had either given or
advanced his whole inheritance, had ceased to exist, and the usurers
who, when his own fortune was spent, had lent him moneys on the security
of the theatre itself--while it still flourished--or on his personal
security, seized his house and lands and would have cast him into the
debtor's prison if he had not escaped that last disgrace by flight. Some
good friends had rescued his family and helped them to follow him, and
when they rejoined him he had begun his wanderings as a singer. Many
a time had life proved miserable enough; still, he had always remained
true to his art and to the gods of Olympus.

Olympius had listened to his narrative with many tokens of sympathy and
agreement, and when Karnis, with tears in his eyes, brought his story
to a close, the philosopher laid his hand on his friend's shoulder and
drawing him towards him, exclaimed:

"Well done, my brave old comrade! We will both be faithful to the same
good cause! You have made sacrifices for it as I have; and we need not
despair yet. If we triumph here our friends in a thousand towns will
begin to look up. The reading of the stars last night, and the auguries
drawn from this morning's victims, portend great changes. What is down
to the ground to-day may float high in the air to-morrow. All the signs
indicate: 'A fall to the Greatest;' and what can be greater than Rome,
the old tyrant queen of the nations? The immediate future, it is true,
can hardly bring the final crash, but it is fraught with important
consequences to us. I dreamed of the fall of the Caesars, and of a great
Greek Empire risen from the ruins, powerful and brilliant under the
special protection of the gods of Olympus; and each one of us must
labor to bring about the realization of this dream. You have set a noble
example of devotion and self-sacrifice, and I thank you in the name of
all those who feel with us--nay, in the name of the gods themselves whom
I serve! The first thing to be done now is to avert the blow which the
Bishop intends shall strike us by the hand of Cynegius--it has already
fallen on the magnificent sanctuary of the Apamaean Zeus. If the
ambassador retires without having gained his purpose the balance will
be greatly--enormously, in our favor, and it will cease to be a folly to
believe in the succ