"Agamemnon, your looks seem to say, What's this boresome nut trying to
hand us?' Well, I'm talking because you, who can talk book-foolishness,
won't. You don't belong to our bunch, so you laugh in your sleeve at the
way us poor people talk, but we know that you're only a fool with a lot
of learning. Well, what of it? Some day I'll get you to come to my
country place and take a look at my little estate. We'll have fresh eggs
and spring chicken to chew on when we get there; it will be all right
even if the weather has kept things back this year. We'll find enough to
satisfy us, and my kid will soon grow up to be a pupil of yours; he can
divide up to four, now, and you'll have a little servant at your side, if
he lives. When he has a minute to himself, he never takes his eyes from
his tablets; he's smart too, and has the right kind of stuff in him, even
if he is crazy about birds. I've had to kill three of his linnets
already. I told him that a weasel had gotten them, but he's found
another hobby, now he paints all the time. He's left the marks of his
heels on his Greek already, and is doing pretty well with his Latin,
although his master's too easy with him; won't make him stick to one
thing. He comes to me to get me to give him something to write when his
master don't want to work. Then there's another tutor, too, no scholar,
but very painstaking, though; he can teach you more than he knows
himself. He comes to the house on holidays and is always satisfied with
whatever you pay him. Some little time ago, I bought the kid some law
books; I want him to have a smattering of the law for home use. There's
bread in that! As for literature, he's got enough of that in him
already; if he begins to kick, I've concluded that I'll make him learn
some trade; the barber's, say, or the auctioneer's, or even the lawyer's.
That's one thing no one but the devil can do him out of! 'Believe what
your daddy says, Primigenius,' I din into his ears every day, 'whenever
you learn a thing, it's yours. Look at Phileros the attorney; he'd not
be keeping the wolf from the door now if he hadn't studied. It's not
long since he had to carry his wares on his back and peddle them, but he
can put up a front with Norbanus himself now! Learning's a fine thing,
and a trade won't starve.'"
CHAPTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH.
Twaddle of this sort was being bandied about when Trimalchio came in;
mopping his forehead and washing his hands in perfume, he said, after a
short pause, "Pardon me, gentlemen, but my stomach's been on strike for
the past few days and the doctors disagreed about the cause. But
pomegranate rind and pitch steeped in vinegar have helped me, and I hope
that my belly will get on its good behavior, for sometimes there's such a
rumbling in my guts that you'd think a bellowing bull was in there. So
if anyone wants to do his business, there's no call to be bashful about
it. None of us was born solid! I don't know of any worse torment than
having to hold it in, it's the one thing Jupiter himself can't hold in.
So you're laughing, are you, Fortunata? Why, you're always keeping me
awake at night yourself. I never objected yet to anyone in my
dining-room relieving himself when he wanted to, and the doctors forbid
our holding it in. Everything's ready outside, if the call's more
serious, water, close-stool, and anything else you'll need. Believe me,
when this rising vapor gets to the brain, it puts the whole body on the
burn. Many a one I've known to kick in just because he wouldn't own up
to the truth." We thanked him for his kindness and consideration, and
hid our laughter by drinking more and oftener. We had not realized that,
as yet, we were only in the middle of the entertainment, with a hill
still ahead, as the saying goes. The tables were cleared off to the beat
of music, and three white hogs, muzzled, and wearing bells, were brought
into the dining-room. The announcer informed us that one was a
two-year-old, another three, and the third just turned six. I had an
idea that some rope-dancers had come in and that the hogs would perform
tricks, just as they do for the crowd on the streets, but Trimalchio
dispelled this illusion by asking, "Which one will you have served up
immediately, for dinner? Any country cook can manage a dunghill cock, a
pentheus hash, or little things like that, but my cooks are well used to
serving up calves boiled whole, in their cauldrons!" Then he ordered a
cook to be called in at once, and without awaiting our pleasure, he
directed that the oldest be butchered, and demanded in a loud voice,
"What division do you belong too?" When the fellow made answer that he
was from the fortieth, "Were you bought, or born upon my estates?"
Trimalchio continued. "Neither," replied the cook, "I was left to you by
Pansa's will." "See to it that this is properly done," Trimalchio
warned, "or I'll have you transferred to the division of messengers!"
and the cook, bearing his master's warning in mind, departed for the
kitchen with the next course in tow.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH.
Trimalchio's threatening face relaxed and he turned to us, "If the wine don't please you," he said, "I'll change it; you ought to do justice to it by drinking it. I don't have to buy it, thanks to the gods. Everything here that makes your mouths water, was produced on one of my country places which I've never yet seen, but they tell me it's down Terracina and Tarentum way. I've got a notion to add Sicily to my other little holdings, so in case I want to go to Africa, I'll be able to sail along my own coasts. But tell me the subject of your speech today, Agamemnon, for, though I don't plead cases myself, I studied literature for home use, and for fear you should think I don't care about learning, let me inform you that I have three libraries, one Greek and the others Latin. Give me the outline of your speech if you like me."
"A poor man and a rich man were enemies," Agamemmon began, when: "What's
a poor man?" Trimalchio broke in. "Well put," Agamemnon conceded and
went into details upon some problem or other, what it was I do not know.
Trimalchio instantly rendered the following verdict, "If that's the case,
there's nothing to dispute about; if it's not the case, it don't amount
to anything anyhow." These flashes of wit, and others equally
scintillating, we loudly applauded, and he went on: "Tell me, my dearest
Agamemnon, do you remember the twelve labors of Hercules or the story of
Ulysses, how the Cyclops threw his thumb out of joint with a pig-headed
crowbar? When I was a boy, I used to read those stories in Homer. And
then, there's the Sibyl: with my own eyes I saw her, at Cumae, hanging up
in a jar; and whenever the boys would say to her 'Sibyl, Sibyl, what
would you?' she would answer, 'I would die.'"
CHAPTER THE FORTY-NINTH.
Before he had run out of wind, a tray upon which was an enormous hog was
placed upon the table, almost filling it up. We began to wonder at the
dispatch with which it had been prepared and swore that no cock could
have been served up in so short a time; moreover, this hog seemed to us
far bigger than the boar had been. Trimalchio scrutinized it closely and
"What the hell," he suddenly bawled out, "this hog hain't been gutted,
has it? No, it hain't, by Hercules, it hain't! Call that cook! Call
that cook in here immediately!" When the crestfallen cook stood at the
table and owned up that he had forgotten to bowel him, "So you forgot,
did you?" Trimalchio shouted, "You'd think he'd only left out a bit of
pepper and cummin, wouldn't you? Off with his clothes!" The cook was
stripped without delay, and stood with hanging head, between two
torturers. We all began to make excuses for him at this, saying, "Little
things like that are bound to happen once in a while, let us prevail upon
you to let him off; if he ever does such a thing again, not a one of us
will have a word to say in his behalf." But for my part, I was
mercilessly angry and could not help leaning over towards Agamemnon and
whispering in his ear, "It is easily seen that this fellow is criminally
careless, is it not? How could anyone forget to draw a hog? If he had
served me a fish in that fashion I wouldn't overlook it, by Hercules, I
wouldn't." But that was not Trimalchio's way: his face relaxed into good
humor and he said, "Since your memory's so short, you can gut him right
here before our eyes!" The cook put on his tunic, snatched up a carving
knife, with a trembling hand, and slashed the hog's belly in several
places. Sausages and meat- puddings, widening the apertures, by their
own weight, immediately tumbled out.
CHAPTER THE FIFTIETH.
The whole household burst into unanimous applause at this; "Hurrah for
Gaius," they shouted. As for the cook, he was given a drink and a silver
crown and a cup on a salver of Corinthian bronze. Seeing that Agamemnon
was eyeing the platter closely, Trimalchio remarked, "I'm the only one
that can show the real Corinthian!" I thought that, in his usual
purse-proud manner, he was going to boast that his bronzes were all
imported from Corinth, but he did even better by saying, "Wouldn't you
like to know how it is that I'm the only one that can show the real
Corinthian? Well, it's because the bronze worker I patronize is named
Corinthus, and what's Corinthian unless it's what a Corinthus makes?
And, so you won't think I'm a blockhead, I'm going to show you that I'm
well acquainted with how Corinthian first came into the world. When Troy
was taken, Hannibal, who was a very foxy fellow and a great rascal into
the bargain, piled all the gold and silver and bronze statues in one pile
and set 'em afire, melting these different metals into one: then the
metal workers took their pick and made bowls and dessert dishes and
statuettes as well. That's how Corinthian was born; neither one nor the
other, but an amalgam of all. But I prefer glass, if you don't mind my
saying so; it don't stink, and if it didn't break, I'd rather have it
than gold, but it's cheap and common now."
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FIRST.
"But there was an artisan, once upon a time, who made a glass vial that
couldn't be broken. On that account he was admitted to Caesar with his
gift; then he dashed it upon the floor, when Caesar handed it back to
him. The Emperor was greatly startled, but the artisan picked the vial
up off the pavement, and it was dented, just like a brass bowl would have
been! He took a little hammer out of his tunic and beat out the dent
without any trouble. When he had done that, he thought he would soon be
in Jupiter's heaven, and more especially when Caesar said to him, 'Is
there anyone else who knows how to make this malleable glass? Think
now!' And when he denied that anyone else knew the secret, Caesar
ordered his head chopped off, because if this should get out, we would
think no more of gold than we would of dirt."
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SECOND.
"And when it comes to silver, I'm a connoisseur; I have goblets as big as wine-jars, a hundred of 'em more or less, with engraving that shows how Cassandra killed her sons, and the dead boys are lying so naturally that you'd think 'em alive. I own a thousand bowls which Mummius left to my patron, where Daedalus is shown shutting Niobe up in the Trojan horse, and I also have cups engraved with the gladiatorial contests of Hermeros and Petraites: they're all heavy, too. I wouldn't sell my taste in these matters for any money!" A slave dropped a cup while he was running on in this fashion. Glaring at him, Trimalchio said, "Go hang yourself, since you're so careless." The boy's lip quivered and he immediately commenced to beg for mercy. "Why do you pray to me?" Trimalchio demanded, at this: "I don't intend to be harsh with you, I'm only warning you against being so awkward." Finally, however, we got him to give the boy a pardon and no sooner had this been done than the slave started running around the room crying, "Out with the water and in with the wine!" We all paid tribute to this joke, but Agamemnon in particular, for he well knew what strings to pull in order to secure another invitation to dinner. Tickled by our flattery, and mellowed by the wine, Trimalchio was just about drunk. "Why hasn't one of you asked my Fortunata to dance?" he demanded, "There's no one can do a better cancan, believe me," and he himself raised his arms above his head and favored us with an impersonation of Syrus the actor; the whole household chanting:
Oh bravo
Oh bravissimo
in chorus, and he would have danced out into the middle of the room
before us all, had not Fortunata whispered in his ear, telling him,
I suppose, that such low buffoonery was not in keeping with his dignity.
But nothing could be so changeable as his humor, for one minute he stood
in awe of Fortunata, but his natural propensities would break out the
next.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-THIRD.
But his passion for dancing was interrupted at this stage by a
stenographer who read aloud, as if he were reading the public records,
"On the seventh of the Kalends of July, on Trimalchio's estates near
Cumae, were born thirty boys and forty girls: five hundred pecks of wheat
were taken from the threshing floors and stored in the granaries: five
hundred oxen were put to yoke: the slave Mithridates was crucified on the
same date for cursing the genius of our master, Gaius: on said date ten
million sesterces were returned to the vaults as no sound investment
could be found: on said date, a fire broke out in the gardens at Pompeii,
said fire originating in the house of Nasta, the bailiff." "What's
that?" demanded Trimalchio. "When were the gardens at Pompeii bought for
me?" "Why, last year," answered the stenographer, "for that reason the
item has not appeared in the accounts." Trimalchio flew into a rage at
this. "If I'm not told within six months of any real estate that's
bought for me," he shouted, "I forbid it's being carried to my account at
all!" Next, the edicts of his aediles were read aloud, and the wills of
some of his foresters in which Trimalchio was disinherited by a codicil,
then the names of his bailiffs, and that of a freedwoman who had been
repudiated by a night watchman, after she had been caught in bed with a
bath attendant, that of a porter banished to Baioe, a steward who was
standing trial, and lastly the report of a decision rendered in the
matter of a lawsuit, between some valets. When this was over with, some
rope dancers came in and a very boresome fool stood holding a ladder,
ordering his boy to dance from rung to rung, and finally at the top, all
this to the music of popular airs; then the boy was compelled to jump
through blazing hoops while grasping a huge wine jar with his teeth.
Trimalchio was the only one who was much impressed by these tricks,
remarking that it was a thankless calling and adding that in all the
world there were just two things which could give him acute pleasure,
rope-dancers and horn blowers; all other entertainments were nothing
but nonsense. "I bought a company of comedians," he went on, "but I
preferred for them to put on Atellane farces, and I ordered my
flute-player to play Latin airs only."
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH.
While our noble Gaius was still talking away, the boy slipped and fell,
alighting upon Trimalchio's arm. The whole household cried out, as did
also the guests, not that they bore such a coarse fellow any good will,
as they would gladly have seen his neck broken, but because such an
unlucky ending to the dinner might make it necessary for them to go into
mourning over a total stranger. As for Trimalchio, he groaned heavily
and bent over his arm as though it had been injured: doctors flocked
around him, and Fortunata was among the very first, her hair was
streaming and she held a cup in her hand and screamed out her grief and
unhappiness. As for the boy who had fallen, he was crawling at our feet,
imploring pardon. I was uneasy for fear his prayers would lead up to
some ridiculous theatrical climax, for I had not yet been able to forget
that cook who had forgotten to bowel that hog, and so, for this reason, I
began to scan the whole dining-room very closely, to see if an automaton
would come out through the wall; and all the more so as a slave was
beaten for having bound up his master's bruised arm in white wool instead
of purple. Nor was my suspicion unjustified, for in place of punishment,
Trimalchio ordered that the boy be freed, so that no one could say that
so exalted a personage had been injured by a slave.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FIFTH.
We applauded his action and engaged in a discussion upon the instability of human affairs, which many took sides. "A good reason," declared Trimalchio, "why such an occasion shouldn't slip by without an epigram." He called for his tablets at once, and after racking his brains for a little while, he got off the following:
The unexpected will turn up;
Our whole lives Fortune bungles up.
Falernian, boy, hand round the cup.
This epigram led up to a discussion of the poets, and for a long time, the greatest praise was bestowed upon Mopsus the Thracian, until Trimalchio broke in with: "Professor, I wish you'd tell me how you'd compare Cicero and Publilius. I'm of the opinion that the first was the more eloquent, but that the last moralizes more beautifully, for what can excel these lines?
Insatiable luxury crumbles the walls of war;
To satiate gluttony, peacocks in coops are brought
Arrayed in gold plumage like Babylon tapestry rich.
Numidian guinea-fowls, capons, all perish for thee:
And even the wandering stork, welcome guest that he is,
The emblem of sacred maternity, slender of leg
And gloctoring exile from winter, herald of spring,
Still, finds his last nest in the--cauldron of gluttony base.
India surrenders her pearls; and what mean they to thee?
That thy wife decked with sea-spoils adorning her breast and her head
On the couch of a stranger lies lifting adulterous legs?
The emerald green, the glass bauble, what mean they to thee?
Or the fire of the ruby? Except that pure chastity shine
From the depth of the jewels: in garments of woven wind clad
Our brides might as well take their stand, their game naked to stalk,
As seek it in gossamer tissue transparent as air."
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SIXTH.
"What should we say was the hardest calling, after literature?" he asked.
"That of the doctor or that of the money-changer, I would say: the
doctor, because he has to know what poor devils have got in their
insides, and when the fever's due: but I hate them like the devil, for my
part, because they're always ordering me on a diet of duck soup: and the
money-changer's, because he's got to be able to see the silver through
the copper plating. When we come to the dumb beasts, the oxen and sheep
are the hardest worked, the oxen, thanks to whose labor we have bread to
chew on, the sheep, because their wool tricks us out so fine. It's the
greatest outrage under the sun for people to eat mutton and then wear a
tunic. Then there's the bee: in my opinion, they're divine insects
because they puke honey, though there are folks that claim that they
bring it from Jupiter, and that's the reason they sting, too, for
wherever you find a sweet, you'll find a bitter too." He was just putting
the philosophers out of business when lottery tickets were passed around
in a cup. A slave boy assigned to that duty read aloud the names of the
souvenirs: "Silver s--ham," a ham was brought in with some silver vinegar
cruets on top of it; "cervical"--something soft for the neck--a piece of
the cervix--neck--of a sheep was brought in; "serisapia"--after wit--"and
contumelia"--insult--we were given must wafers and an apple-melon--and a
phallus--contus--; "porri"--leeks--"and persica," he picked up a whip and
a knife; "passeres"--sparrows" and a fly--trap," the answer was
raisins--uva passa--and Attic honey; "cenatoria"--a dinner toga--"and
forensia"--business dress--he handed out a piece of meat--suggestive of
dinner--and a note-book--suggestive of business--; "canale"--chased by a
dog--"and pedale"--pertaining to the foot--, a hare and a slipper were
brought out; "lamphrey"--murena--"and a letter," he held up a
mouse--mus--and a frog--rana--tied together, and a bundle of
beet--beta--the Greek letter beta--. We laughed long and loud, there
were a thousand of these jokes, more or less, which have now escaped my
memory.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SEVENTH.
But Ascyltos threw off all restraint and ridiculed everything; throwing
up his hands, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. At last,
one of Trimalchio's fellow-freedmen, the one who had the place next to
me, flew into a rage, "What's the joke, sheep's-head," he bawled, "Don't
our host's swell entertainment suit you? You're richer than he is, I
suppose, and used to dining better! As I hope the guardian spirit of
this house will be on my side, I'd have stopped his bleating long ago if
I'd been sitting next to him. He's a peach, he is, laughing at others;
some vagabond or other from who-knows-where, some night-pad who's not
worth his own piss: just let me piss a ring around him and he wouldn't
know where to run to! I ain't easy riled, no, by Hercules, I ain't, but
worms breed in tender flesh. Look at him laugh! What the hell's he got
to laugh at? Is his family so damned fine-haired? So you're a Roman
knight! Well, I'm a king's son! How's it come that you've been a slave,
you'll ask because I put myself into service because I'd rather be a
Roman citizen than a tax-paying provincial. And now I hope that my life
will be such that no one can jeer at me. I'm a man among men! I take my
stroll bareheaded and owe no man a copper cent. I never had a summons in
my life and no one ever said to me, in the forum, pay me what you owe me.
I've bought a few acres and saved up a few dollars and I feed twenty
bellies and a dog. I ransomed my bedfellow so no one could wipe his
hands on her bosom; a thousand dinars it cost me, too. I was chosen
priest of Augustus without paying the fee, and I hope that I won't need
to blush in my grave after I'm dead. But you're so busy that you can't
look behind you; you can spot a louse on someone else, all right, but you
can't see the tick on yourself. You're the only one that thinks we're so
funny; look at your professor, he's older than you are, and we're good
enough for him, but you're only a brat with the milk still in your nose
and all you can prattle is 'ma' or 'mu,' you're only a clay pot, a piece
of leather soaked in water, softer and slipperier, but none the better
for that. You've got more coin than we have, have you? Then eat two
breakfasts and two dinners a day. I'd rather have my reputation than
riches, for my part, and before I make an end of this--who ever dunned me
twice? In all the forty years I was in service, no one could tell
whether I was free or a slave. I was only a long-haired boy when I came
to this colony and the town house was not built then. I did my best to
please my master and he was a digniferous and majestical gentleman whose
nail-parings were worth more than your whole carcass. I had enemies in
his house, too, who would have been glad to trip me up, but I swam the
flood, thanks to his kindness. Those are the things that try your
mettle, for it's as easy to be born a gentleman as to say, 'Come here.'
Well, what are you gaping at now, like a billy-goat in a vetch-field?"
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-EIGHTH.
Giton, who had been standing at my feet, and who had for some time been holding in his laughter, burst into an uproarious guffaw, at this last figure of speech, and when Ascyltos' adversary heard it, he turned his abuse upon the boy. "What's so funny, you curly-headed onion," he bellowed, "are the Saturnalia here, I'd like to know? Is it December now?
"When did you pay your twentieth? What's this to you, you gallows-bird,
you crow's meat? I'll call the anger of Jupiter down on you and that
master of yours, who don't keep you in better order. If I didn't respect
my fellow-freedmen, I'd give you what is coming to you right here on the
spot, as I hope to get my belly full of bread, I would. We'll get along
well enough, but those that can't control you are fools; like master like
man's a true saying. I can hardly hold myself in and I'm not hot-headed
by nature, but once let me get a start and I don't care two cents for my
own mother. All right, I'll catch you in the street, you rat, you
toadstool. May I never grow an inch up or down if I don't push your
master into a dunghill, and I'll give you the same medicine, I will, by
Hercules, I will, no matter if you call down Olympian Jupiter himself!
I'll take care of your eight inch ringlets and your two cent master into
the bargain. I'll have my teeth into you, either you'll cut out the
laughing, or I don't know myself. Yes, even if you had a golden beard.
I'll bring the wrath of Minerva down on you and on the fellow that first
made a come-here out of you. No, I never learned geometry or criticism
or other foolishness like that, but I know my capital letters and I can
divide any figure by a hundred, be it in asses, pounds or sesterces.
Let's have a show-down, you and I will make a little bet, here's my coin;
you'll soon find out that your father's money was wasted on your
education, even if you do know a little rhetoric. How's this--what part
of us am I? I come far, I come wide, now guess me! I'll give you
another. What part of us runs but never moves from its place? What part
of us grows but always grows less? But you scurry around and are as
flustered and fidgeted as a mouse in a piss-pot. Shut up and don't annoy
your betters, who don't even know that you've been born. Don't think
that I'm impressed by those boxwood armlets that you did your mistress
out of. Occupo will back me! Let's go into the forum and borrow money,
then you'll see whether this iron ring means credit! Bah! A draggled
fox is a fine sight, ain't it'? I hope I never get rich and die decently
so that the people will swear by my death, if I don't hound you
everywhere with my toga turned inside out. And the fellow that taught
you such manners did a good job too, a chattering ape, all right, no
schoolmaster. We were better taught. 'Is everything in its place?' the
master would ask; go straight home and don't stop and stare at everything
and don't be impudent to your elders. Don't loiter along looking in at
the shops. No second raters came out of that school. I'm what you see
me and I thank the gods it's all due to my own cleverness."
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-NINTH.
Ascyltos was just starting in to answer this indictment when Trimalchio,
who was delighted with his fellow-freedman's tirade, broke in, "Cut out
the bickering and let's have things pleasant here. Let up on the young
fellow, Hermeros, he's hot-blooded, so you ought to be more reasonable.
The loser's always the winner in arguments of this kind. And as for you,
even when you were a young punk you used to go 'Co-co co-co,' like a hen
after a rooster, but you had no pep. Let's get to better business and
start the fun all over again and watch the Homerists." A troupe filed
in, immediately, and clashed spears against shields. Trimalchio sat
himself up on his cushion and intoned in Latin, from a book, while the
actors, in accordance with their conceited custom, recited their parts in
the Greek language. There came a pause, presently, and "You don't any of
you know the plot of the skit they're putting on, do you?" he asked,
"Diomedes and Ganymede were two brothers, and Helen was their sister;
Agamemnon ran away with her and palmed off a doe on Diana, in her place,
so Homer tells how the Trojans and Parentines fought among themselves.
Of course Agamemnon was victorious, and gave his daughter Iphigenia, to
Achilles, for a wife: This caused Ajax to go mad, and he'll soon make the
whole thing plain to you." The Homerists raised a shout, as soon as
Trimalchio had done speaking, and, as the whole familia stepped back, a
boiled calf with a helmet on its head was brought in on an enormous
platter. Ajax followed and rushed upon it with drawn sword, as if he
were insane, he made passes with the flat, and again with the edge, and
then, collecting the slices, he skewered them, and, much to our
astonishment, presented them to us on the point of his sword.
CHAPTER THE SIXTIETH.
But we were not given long in which to admire the elegance of such
service, for all of a sudden the ceiling commenced to creak and then the
whole dining-room shook. I leaped to my feet in consternation, for fear
some rope-walker would fall down, and the rest of the company raised
their faces, wondering as much as I what new prodigy was to be announced
from on high. Then lo and behold! the ceiling panels parted and an
enormous hoop, which appeared to have been knocked off a huge cask, was
lowered from the dome above; its perimeter was hung with golden chaplets
and jars of alabaster filled with perfume. We were asked to accept these
articles as souvenirs. When my glance returned to the table, I noticed
that a dish containing cakes had been placed upon it, and in the middle
an image of Priapus, made by the baker, and he held apples of all
varieties and bunches of grapes against his breast, in the conventional
manner. We applied ourselves wholeheartedly to this dessert and our
joviality was suddenly revived by a fresh diversion, for, at the
slightest pressure, all the cakes and fruits would squirt a saffron sauce
upon us, and even spurted unpleasantly into our faces. Being convinced
that these perfumed dainties had some religious significance, we arose in
a body and shouted, "Hurrah for the Emperor, the father of his country!"
However, as we perceived that even after this act of veneration, the
others continued helping themselves, we filled our napkins with the
apples. I was especially keen on this, for I thought I could never put
enough good things into Giton's lap. Three slaves entered, in the
meantime, dressed in white tunics well tucked up, and two of them placed
Lares with amulets hanging from their necks, upon the table, while the
third carried round a bowl of wine and cried, "May the gods be
propitious!" One was called Cerdo--business--, Trimalchio informed us,
the other Lucrio--luck--and the third Felicio--profit--and, when all the
rest had kissed a true likeness of Trimalchio, we were ashamed to pass it
by.
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-FIRST.
After they had all wished each other sound minds and good health,
Trimalchio turned to Niceros. "You used to be better company at
dinner," he remarked, "and I don't know why you should be dumb today,
with never a word to say. If you wish to make me happy, tell about that
experience you had, I beg of you." Delighted at the affability of his
friend, "I hope I lose all my luck if I'm not tickled to death at the
humor I see you in," Niceros replied. "All right, let's go the limit for
a good time, though I'm afraid these scholars'll laugh at me, but I'll
tell my tale and they can go as far as they like. What t'hell do I care
who laughs? It's better to be laughed at than laughed down." These
words spake the hero, and began the following tale: "We lived in a narrow
street in the house Gavilla now owns, when I was a slave. There, by the
will of the gods, I fell in love with the wife of Terentius, the
innkeeper; you knew Melissa of Tarentum, that pretty round-checked little
wench. It was no carnal passion, so hear me, Hercules, it wasn't; I was
not in love with her physical charms. No, it was because she was such a
good sport. I never asked her for a thing and had her deny me; if she
had an as, I had half. I trusted her with everything I had and never was
done out of anything. Her husband up and died on the place, one day, so
I tried every way I could to get to her, for you know friends ought to
show up when anyone's in a pinch.
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-SECOND.
"It so happened that our master had gone to Capua to attend to some odds
and ends of business and I seized the opportunity, and persuaded a guest
of the house to accompany me as far as the fifth mile-stone. He was a
soldier, and as brave as the very devil. We set out about cock-crow, the
moon was shining as bright as midday, and came to where the tombstones
are. My man stepped aside amongst them, but I sat down, singing, and
commenced to count them up. When I looked around for my companion, he
had stripped himself and piled his clothes by the side of the road. My
heart was in my mouth, and I sat there while he pissed a ring around them
and was suddenly turned into a wolf! Now don't think I'm joking, I
wouldn't lie for any amount of money, but as I was saying, he commenced
to howl after he was turned into a wolf, and ran away into the forest.
I didn't know where I was for a minute or two, then I went to his
clothes, to pick them up, and damned if they hadn't turned to stone! Was
ever anyone nearer dead from fright than me? Then I whipped out my sword
and cut every shadow along the road to bits, till I came to the house of
my mistress. I looked like a ghost when I went in, and I nearly slipped
my wind. The sweat was pouring down my crotch, my eyes were staring, and
I could hardly be brought around. My Melissa wondered why I was out so
late. "Oh, if you'd only come sooner," she said, "you could have helped
us: a wolf broke into the folds and attacked the sheep, bleeding them
like a butcher. But he didn't get the laugh on me, even if he did get
away, for one of the slaves ran his neck through with a spear!" I
couldn't keep my eyes shut any longer when I heard that, and as soon as
it grew light, I rushed back to our Gaius' house like an innkeeper beaten
out of his bill, and when I came to the place where the clothes had been
turned into stone, there was nothing but a pool of blood! And moreover,
when I got home, my soldier was lying in bed, like an ox, and a doctor
was dressing his neck! I knew then that he was a werewolf, and after
that, I couldn't have eaten a crumb of bread with him, no, not if you had
killed me. Others can think what they please about this, but as for me,
I hope your geniuses will all get after me if I lie."
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-THIRD.
We were all dumb with astonishment, when "I take your story for granted,"
said Trimalchio, "and if you'll believe me, my hair stood on end, and
all the more, because I know that Niceros never talks nonsense: he's
always level-headed, not a bit gossipy. And now I'll tell you a
hair-raiser myself, though I'm like a jackass on a slippery pavement compared
to him. When I was a long-haired boy, for I lived a Chian life from my
youth up, my master's minion died. He was a jewel, so hear me Hercules,
he was, perfect in every facet. While his sorrow-stricken mother was
bewailing his loss, and the rest of us were lamenting with her, the
witches suddenly commenced to screech so loud that you would have thought
a hare was being run down by the hounds! At that time, we had a
Cappadocian slave, tall, very bold, and he had muscle too; he could hold
a mad bull in the air! He wrapped a mantle around his left arm, boldly
rushed out of doors with drawn sword, and ran a woman through the middle
about here, no harm to what I touch. We heard a scream, but as a matter
of fact, for I won't lie to you, we didn't catch sight of the witches
themselves. Our simpleton came back presently, and threw himself upon
the bed. His whole body was black and blue, as if he had been flogged
with whips, and of course the reason of that was she had touched him with
her evil hand! We shut the door and returned to our business, but when
the mother put her arms around the body of her son, it turned out that it
was only a straw bolster, no heart, no guts, nothing! Of course the
witches had swooped down upon the lad and put the straw changeling in his
place! Believe me or not, suit yourselves, but I say that there are
women that know too much, and night-hags, too, and they turn everything
upside down! And as for the long-haired booby, he never got back his own
natural color and he died, raving mad, a few days later."
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-FOURTH.
Though we wondered greatly, we believed none the less implicitly and,
kissing the table, we besought the night-hags to attend to their own
affairs while we were returning home from dinner. As far as I was
concerned, the lamps already seemed to burn double and the whole
dining-room was going round, when "See here, Plocamus," Trimalchio spoke
up, "haven't you anything to tell us? You haven't entertained us at all,
have you? And you used to be fine company, always ready to oblige with a
recitation or a song. The gods bless us, how the green figs have
fallen!" "True for you," the fellow answered, "since I've got the gout
my sporting days are over; but in the good old times when I was a young
spark, I nearly sang myself into a consumption. How I used to dance!
And take my part in a farce, or hold up my end in the barber shops! Who
could hold a candle to me except, of course, the one and only Apelles?"
He then put his hand to his mouth and hissed out some foul gibberish or
other, and said afterwards that it was Greek. Trimalchio himself then
favored us with an impersonation of a man blowing a trumpet, and when he
had finished, he looked around for his minion, whom he called Croesus, a
blear-eyed slave whose teeth were very disagreeably discolored. He was
playing with a little black bitch, disgustingly fat, wrapping her up in a
leek-green scarf and teasing her with a half-loaf of bread which he had
put on the couch; and when from sheer nausea, she refused it, he crammed
it down her throat. This sight put Trimalchio in mind of his own dog and
he ordered Scylax, "the guardian of his house and home," to be brought
in. An enormous dog was immediately led in upon a chain and, obeying a
kick from the porter, it lay down beside the table. Thereupon Trimalchio
remarked, as he threw it a piece of white bread, "No one in all my house
loves me better than Scylax." Enraged at Trimalchio's praising Scylax so
warmly, the slave put the bitch down upon the floor and sicked her on to
fight. Scylax, as might have been expected from such a dog, made the
whole room ring with his hideous barking and nearly shook the life out of
the little bitch which the slave called Pearl. Nor did the uproar end in
a dog fight, a candelabrum was upset upon the table, breaking the glasses
and spattering some of the guests with hot oil. As Trimalchio did not
wish to seem concerned at the loss, he kissed the boy and ordered him to
climb upon his own back. The slave did not hesitate but, mounting his
rocking-horse, he beat Trimalchio's shoulders with his open palms,
yelling with laughter, "Buck! Buck! How many fingers do I hold up!"
When Trimalchio had, in a measure, regained his composure, which took but
a little while, he ordered that a huge vessel be filled with mixed wine,
and that drinks be served to all the slaves sitting around our feet,
adding as an afterthought, "If anyone refuses to drink, pour it on his
head: business is business, but now's the time for fun."
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-FIFTH.
The dainties that followed this display of affability were of such a
nature that, if any reliance is to be placed in my word, the very mention
of them makes me sick at the stomach. Instead of thrushes, fattened
chickens were served, one to each of us, and goose eggs with pastry caps
on them, which same Trimalchio earnestly entreated us to eat, informing
us that the chickens had all been boned. Just at that instant, however,
a lictor knocked at the dining-room door, and a reveler, clad in white
vestments, entered, followed by a large retinue. Startled at such pomp,
I thought that the Praetor had arrived, so I put my bare feet upon the
floor and started to get up, but Agamemnon laughed at my anxiety and
said, "Keep your seat, you idiot, it's only Habinnas the sevir; he's a
stone mason, and if report speaks true, he makes the finest tombstones
imaginable." Reassured by this information, I lay back upon my couch and
watched Habinnas' entrance with great curiosity. Already drunk and
wearing several wreaths, his forehead smeared with perfume which ran down
into his eyes, he advanced with his hands upon his wife's shoulders, and,
seating himself in the Praetor's place, he called for wine and hot water.
Delighted with his good humor, Trimalchio called for a larger goblet for
himself, and asked him, at the same time, how he had been entertained.
"We had everything except yourself, for my heart and soul were here, but
it was fine, it was, by Hercules. Scissa was giving a Novendial feast
for her slave, whom she freed on his death-bed, and it's my opinion
she'll have a large sum to split with the tax gatherers, for the dead man
was rated at 50,000, but everything went off well, even if we did have to
pour half our wine on the bones of the late lamented."
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-SIXTH.
"But," demanded Trimalchio, "what did you have for dinner'?" "I'll tell
you if I can," answered he, "for my memory's so good that I often forget
my own name. Let's see, for the first course, we had a hog, crowned with
a wine cup and garnished with cheese cakes and chicken livers cooked well
done, beets, of course, and whole-wheat bread, which I'd rather have
than white, because it puts strength into you, and when I take a crap
afterwards, I don't have to yell. Following this, came a course of
tarts, served cold, with excellent Spanish wine poured over warm honey;
I ate several of the tarts and got the honey all over myself. Then there
were chick-peas and lupines, all the smooth-shelled nuts you wanted, and
an apple apiece, but I got away with two, and here they are, tied up in
my napkin; for I'll have a row on my hands if I don't bring some kind of
a present home to my favorite slave. Oh yes, my wife has just reminded
me, there was a haunch of bear-meat as a side dish, Scintilla ate some of
it without knowing what it was, and she nearly puked up her guts when she
found out. But as for me, I ate more than a pound of it, for it tasted
exactly like wild boar and, says I, if a bear eats a man, shouldn't that
be all the more reason for a man to eat a bear? The last course was soft
cheese, new wine boiled thick, a snail apiece, a helping of tripe, liver
pate, capped eggs, turnips and mustard. But that's enough. Pickled
olives were handed around in a wooden bowl, and some of the party
greedily snatched three handfuls, we had ham, too, but we sent it back."
CHAPTER THE SIXTY-SEVENTH.
"But why isn't Fortunata at the table, Gaius? Tell me." "What's that," Trimalchio replied; "don't you know her better than that? She wouldn't touch even a drop of water till after the silver was put away and the leftovers divided among the slaves." "I'm going to beat it if she don't take her place," Habinnas threatened, and started to get up; and then, at a signal, the slaves all called out together "Fortunata," four times or more.
She appeared, girded round with a sash of greenish yellow, below which a
cherry-colored tunic could be seen, and she had on twisted anklets and
sandals worked in gold. Then, wiping her hands upon a handkerchief which
she wore around her neck, she seated herself upon the couch, beside
Scintilla, Habinnas' wife, and clapping her hands and kissing her, "My
dear," she gushed, "is it really you?" Fortunata then removed the
bracelets from her pudgy arms and held them out to the admiring
Scintilla, and by and by she took off her anklets and even her yellow
hair-net, which was twenty-four carats fine, she would have us know!
Trimalchio, who was on the watch, ordered every trinket to be brought to
him. "You see these things, don't you?" he demanded; "they're what
women fetter us with. That's the way us poor suckers are done! These
ought to weigh six pounds and a half. I have an arm-band myself, that
don't weigh a grain under ten pounds; I bought it out of Mercury's
thousandths, too." Finally, for fear he would seem to be lying, he
ordered the scales to be brought in and carried around to prove the
weights. And Scintilla was no better. She took off a small golden
vanity case which she wore around her neck, and which she called her
Lucky Box, and took from it two eardrops, which, in her turn, she handed
to Fortunata to be inspected. "Thanks to the generosity of my husband,"
she smirked, "no woman has better." "What's that?" Habinnas demanded.
"You kept on my trail to buy that glass bean for you; if I had a
daughter, I'll be damned if I wouldn't cut off her little ears. We'd
have everything as cheap as dirt if there were no women, but we have to
piss hot and drink cold, the way things are now." The women, angry
though they were, were laughing together, in the meantime, and exchanging
drunken kisses, the one running on about her diligence as a housekeeper,
and the other about the infidelities and neglect of her husband.
Habinnas got up stealthily, while they were clinging together in this
fashion and, seizing Fortunata by the feet, he tipped her over backwards
upon the couch. "Let go!" she screeched, as her tunic slipped above her
knees; then, after pulling down her clothing, she threw herself into
Scintilla's lap, and hid, with her handkerchief, a face which was none
the more beautiful for its blushes.