could give no description of him, having only heard common report.
He sailed for Pachynum, and there, in a cottage on the shore, heard
of Hilarion's fame--that which most surprised all being that, after
so many signs and miracles, he had not accepted even a bit of bread
from any man.

So, "not to make the story too long," as says St. Jerome, Hesychius
fell at his master's knees, and watered his feet with tears, till at
last he raised him up. But two or three days after he heard from
Zananas, how the old man could dwell no longer in these regions, but
was minded to go to some barbarous nation, where both his name and
his speech should be unknown. So he took him to Epidaurus, {119a} a
city of Dalmatia, where he lay a few days in a little farm, and yet
could not be hid; for a dragon of wondrous size--one of those which,
in the country speech, they call boas, because they are so huge that
they can swallow an ox--laid waste the province, and devoured not
only herds and flocks, but husbandmen and shepherds, which he drew
to him by the force of his breath. {119b} Hilarion commanded a pile
of wood to be prepared, and having prayed to Christ, and called the
beast forth, commanded him to ascend the pile, and having put fire
under, burnt him before all the people. Then fretting over what he
should do, or whither he should turn, he went alone over the world
in imagination, and mourned that, when his tongue was silent, his
miracles still spoke.

In those days, at the earthquake over the whole world, which befell
after Julian's death, the sea broke its bounds; and, as if God was
threatening another flood, or all was returning to the primaeval
chaos, ships were carried up steep rocks, and hung there. But when
the Epidauritans saw roaring waves and mountains of water borne