beguiling the tedium of their vigil at his bedside by a game of dice, which
prevented their observing his resuscitation. After a moment's hesitation
Plotinus resolved to lie quiet in the hopes of hearing something that might
indicate what influences were in the ascendant in the philosophical
republic. He had not long to wait.

"Dice is dull work for long," said one of the young men, indolently
throwing himself back, and letting his caster fall upon the floor. "To
think how much better one might be employed, but for having to watch this
old fool here! I've a great mind to call up a slave."

"All the slaves are sure to have gone to the show, unless any of them
should be Christians. Besides, Porphyry would hear you, he's only in a
cat's sleep," returned his companion.

"Well, I mean to say it's a shame. All the town will be in the theatre by
this time."

"How many gladiators, said you?"

"Forty pairs, the best show Campania has seen time out of mind."

"How has it all come about?"

"Oh, news comes of the death of Postumus, killed by his own soldiers, and
this passes as a great victory for want of a better, 'We must have a day
of thanksgiving,' says Theocles. 'Right,' says Leaena, 'I am dying to see
an exhibition of gladiators.' Theocles demurs at first, expecting to have
to find the money--but Leaena tugs at his beard, and he gives in. Just at
the nick of time the right sort of fellow pops up nobody knows whence, a