lanista with hair like curling helichryse, as Theocritus has it, and a
small army of gladiators, whom, out of devotion to the Emperor, he offers
to exhibit for nothing. Who so pleased as Theocles now? He takes the chair
as archon with Leaena by his side, and off goes every soul in the place,
except Pannychis, who cannot bear the sight of blood, and Porphyry, who is
an outrageous humanitarian, and us poor devils left in charge of this old
dreamer."

"Couldn't we leave him to mind himself? He isn't likely to awake yet."

"Try him with your cloak-pin." The student detached the implement in
question, which was about the size of a small stiletto. Feeling uncertain
what part of his person was to be the subject of experiment, Plotinus
judged it advisable to manifest his recovery in an unmistakable fashion.

"O dear Master, what joy!" cried both the students in a breath. "Porphyry!
Porphyry!"

The trusty scholar appeared immediately, and under pretence of fetching
food, the two neophytes eloped to the amphitheatre.

"What means all this, Porphyry?" demanded Plotinus sternly. "The City of
Philosophers polluted by human blood! The lovers of wisdom mingling with
the dregs of the rabble!"

Porphyry's account, which Plotinus could only extract by consenting to eat
while his disciple talked, corresponded in all essential particulars with
that of the two young men.

"And I see not," added he, "what we can do in the matter. This abomination