The ancient war-cloud had again gathered out of Africa.  The Saracens were in the land, and every city had fallen except Syracuse and Taormina.  For sixty years the former held out, and our city for yet another thirty, the sole refuge of the Christians.  Signs of the impending destruction were first seen by that St. Elia already mentioned, who wandered hither, and was displeased by the manners and morals of the citizens.  I am sorry to record that Monsignore believed his report, for only here is there mention of such a matter.  “The citizens,” says my author, “lived in luxury and pleasure not becoming to a state of war.  They saw on all sides the fields devastated, houses burnt, wealth plundered, cities given to the flames, friends and companions killed or reduced to slavery, yet was there no vice, no sin, that did not rule unpunished among them.”  Therefore the saint preached the woe to come, and, turning to the governor, Constantine Patrizio, in his place in the cathedral, he appealed to him to restrain his people.  “Let the philosophy of the Gentiles,” he exclaimed, “be your shame.  Epaminondas, that illustrious condottiere, strictly restrained himself from intemperance, from every lust, every allurement of pleasure.  So, also, Scipio, the Roman leader, was valorous through the same continence as Epaminondas; and therefore they brought back signal victory, one over the Spartans, the other over the Carthaginians, and both erected immortal trophies.”  He promised them mercy with repentance, but ended threateningly:  “So far as in me lies I have clearly foretold to you all that has been divinely revealed to me.  If you believe my words, like the penitents of Nineveh, you shall find mercy; if you despise my admonitions, bound and captive you shall be reduced to the worst slavery.”  He prophesied yet more in private.  He went to the house of a noble citizen, Crisione, who esteemed him as a father, and, lying in bed, he said to him:  “Do you see, Crisione, the bed in which I now lie?  In this same bed shall Ibrahim sleep, hungry for human blood, and the walls of the rooms shall see many of the most distinguished persons of this city all together put to the edge of the sword.”  Then he left the house and went to the square in the centre of the city, and, standing there, he lifted his garments above the knee.  Whereupon simple Daniele, who always followed him about, marvelling asked, “What does this thing mean, father?” The old man had his answer ready, “Now I see rivers of blood running, and these proud and magnificent buildings which you see exalted shall be destroyed even to the foundations by the Saracens.”  And the monk fled from the doomed city, like a true prophet, and went overseas.