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'Tis little enough meat I have seen for the past week. Most of it goes to the altars. Ere long, methinks, we shall be able to say that the ever-venerable gods are the only meat-eaters in Antioch.

Still the same old mocker, Heraclius.

Why, of what are you thinking, friend? Far be it from me to mock at the Emperor's wise decrees. Blessed be the Emperor Julian! Does he not follow in the footsteps of the immortals? For, tell me, does not a certain frugality seem nowadays to reign, even in the heavenly housekeeping?

Ha-ha-ha! there you are not far wrong.

Look at Cybele, formerly so bounteous a goddess, whose statue the Emperor lately found in an ash-pit

It was in a dunghill

Like enough; fertilising is Cybele's business. But look at this goddess, I say;—in spite of her hundred breasts, she flows neither with milk nor honey.

[''A circle of laughing hearers has gathered round him. While he is speaking, the has come forward on the steps in the colonnade, unnoticed by''