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I cannot tell, says Demetrius, how things are at present in those parts, for you all know I have been long absent from thence; but when I was there, both that of Mopsus and of Amphilochus flourished and were in great esteem. And as to the oracle of Mopsus, I can from my own knowledge tell you a strange story about it. The Governor of Cicilia was a man inclining to scepticism about the Gods,—through the infirmity of his unbelief, I think, for otherwise he was an oppressor and a worthless man,—and he had about him several Epicureans, who are wont to mock at the belief of such things as seem contrary to reason, as they themselves say, standing much upon their goodly natural philosophy. He sent a freed servant of his to the oracle, like a spy into an enemy’s camp, with a letter sealed, wherein was the question he was to ask the oracle, nobody knowing the contents thereof. This man then, as the custom of the place is, remaining all night in the temple-porch asleep, related the next morning the dream which he had; for he thought he saw a very handsome man stand before him, who said only this word, Black, to him, and nothing else, for he vanished away immediately. This seemed to us very impertinent, though we could not tell what to make of it; but the governor marvelled at it, and was so nettled with it, that he had the oracle in great veneration ever since; for, opening the letter, he showed this question which was therein: Shall I sacrifice to thee a white bull or a black? Which dashed his Epicureans quite out of countenance, and he offered the sacrifice required, and to the day of his death continued a devout admirer of Mopsus.
