The landlord made his appearance with a part of our little supper, while
this lover's comedy was being enacted and, taking in the very disorderly
spectacle which we presented, lying there and wallowing as we were,
"Are you drunk," he demanded, "or are you runaway slaves, or both?
Who turned up that bed there? What's the meaning of all these sneaking
preparations? You didn't want to pay the room-rent, you didn't, by
Hercules, you didn't; you wanted to wait till night and run away into the
public streets, but that won't go here! This is no widow's joint, I'll
show you that; not yet it ain't! This place belongs to Marcus
Manicius!" "So you threaten, do you'?" yelled Eumolpus, giving the
fellow a resounding slap in the face. At this, the latter threw a small
earthenware pitcher, which had been emptied by the draughts of successive
guests, at Eumolpus' head, and cut open the forehead of his cursing
adversary: then he skipped out of the room. Infuriated at such an
insult. Eumolpus snatched up a wooden candlestick, ran in pursuit of his
retreating foeman, and avenged his broken head with a shower of blows.
The entire household crowded around, as did a number of drunken lodgers,
but I seized this opportunity of retaliating and locked Eumolpus out,
retorting his own trick upon the quarrelsome fellow, and found myself
without a rival, as it were, able to enjoy my room and my night's
pleasure as well. In the meantime, Eumolpus, locked out as he was,
was being very roughly handled by the cooks and scullions of the
establishment; one aimed a spitful of hissing-hot guts at his eyes;
another grabbed a two-tined fork in the pantry and put himself on guard.
But worst of all, a blear-eyed old hag, girded round with a filthy apron,
and wearing wooden clogs which were not mates, dragged in an immense dog
on a chain, and "sicked" him upon Eumolpus, but he beat off all attacks
with his candlestick.
We took in the entire performance through a hole in the folding-doors:
this had been made but a short time before, when the handle had been
broken and jerked out, and I wished him joy of his beating. Giton,
however, forgetting everything except his own compassion, thought we
ought to open the door and succor Eumolpus, in his peril; but being still
angry, I could not restrain my hand; clenching my fist, I rapped his
pitying head with my sharp knuckles. In tears, he sat upon the bed,
while I applied each eye in turn, to the opening, filling myself up as
with a dainty dish, with Eumolpus' misfortunes, and gloating over their
prolongation, when Bargates, agent for the building, called from his
dinner, was carried into the midst of the brawl by two chair-men, for he
had the gout. He carried on for some time against drunkards and fugitive
slaves, in a savage tone and with a barbarous accent, and then, looking
around and catching sight of Eumolpus, "What," he exclaimed, "are you
here, nay prince of poets? and these damned slaves don't scatter at once
and stop their brawling!" (Then, whispering in Eumolpus' ear,) "My
bedfellow's got an idea that she's finer-haired than I am; lampoon her
in a poem, if you think anything of me, and make 'er ashamed."
Eumolpus was speaking privately with Bargates, when a crier attended by a public slave entered the inn, accompanied by a medium-sized crowd of outsiders. Waving a torch that gave out more smoke than light, he announced: "Strayed from the baths, a short time ago, a boy about sixteen years of age, curly headed, a minion, handsome, answers to the name of Giton. One thousand sesterces reward will be paid to anyone bringing him back or giving information as to his whereabouts." Ascyltos, dressed in a tunic of many colors, stood not far from the crier, holding out a silver tray upon which was piled the reward, as evidence of good faith. I ordered Giton to get under the bed immediately, telling him to stick his hands and feet through the rope netting which supported the mattress, and, just as Ulysses of old had clung to the ram, so he, stretched out beneath the mattress, would evade the hands of the hunters. And Giton did not hesitate at obeying this order, but fastened his hands in the netting for a moment, outdoing Ulysses in his own cunning! For fear of leaving room for suspicion, I piled covers upon my pallet, leaving the impression of a single person of my own stature. Meanwhile Ascyltos, in company with the magistrate's servant, had ransacked all the rooms and had come at last to mine, where he entertained greater hopes of success, because he found the doors carefully barred. The public slave loosened the bolts by inserting the edge of his ax in the chink. I threw myself at Ascyltos' feet, begging him, by the memory of our friendship and our companionship in suffering, to show me my "brother," safe and sound, and furthermore, that my simulated prayers might carry conviction, I added, "I know very well, Ascyltos, that you have come here seeking my life. If not, why the axes?
"Well, fatten your grudge, then! Here's my neck! Pour out that blood
you seek to shed under pretext of a search!" Ascyltos repelled this
suspicion, affirming that he sought nothing except his own fugitive and
desired the death of neither man nor suppliant, and least of all did he
wish to harm one whom, now that their quarrel was over, he regarded as
his dearest friend.
The public servant, however, was not derelict in the performance of his
duty for, snatching a cane from the innkeeper, he poked underneath the
bed, ransacking every corner, even to the cracks in the wall. Twisting
his body out of reach, and cautiously drawing a full breath, Giton
pressed his mouth against the very bugs themselves. (The pair had
scarcely left the room) when Eumolpus burst in in great excitement, for
the doors had been broken and could keep no one out. "The thousand
sesterces are mine," he shouted, "I'll follow that crier out and tell him
Giton is in your power, and it will serve you right, too!" Seeing that
his mind was made up, I embraced his knees and besought him not to kill a
dying man. "You might have some reason for being excited," I said, "if
you could produce the missing boy, but you cannot, as the thing stands
now, for he escaped into the crowd and I have not even a suspicion as to
where he has gone! Get the lad back, Eumolpus, for heaven's sake, even
if you do restore him to Ascyltos!" I had just succeeded in persuading
him to believe all this when Giton, nearly suffocated from holding his
breath, suddenly sneezed three times, and shook the bed. Eumolpus turned
at the commotion. "Hello, Giton," he exclaimed, "glad to see you!" Then
he turned back the mattress and discovered an Ulysses who even a ravenous
Cyclops might have spared; thereupon, he faced me, "You robber," said he,
"what does all this mean? You hadn't the nerve to tell me the truth even
when you were caught! If the god, that umpires human affairs hadn't
forced a sign from this boy as he hung there, I would be wandering from
one pot-house to another, like a fool!" (But) Giton was far more tactful
than I: first of all, he dressed the cut upon Eumolpus' forehead, with
spider's web soaked in oil; he then exchanged the poet's torn clothing
for his own cloak; this done, he embraced the old gentleman, who was
already somewhat mollified, and poulticed him with kisses. "Dearest of
fathers," he cried, "we are entirely in your hands! In yours alone! If
you love your Giton, do your best to save him. Would that some cruel
flame might devour me, alone, or that the wintry sea might swallow me,
for I am the cause for all these crimes. Two enemies would be reconciled
if I should perish!" (Moved by our troubles, but particularly stirred by
Giton's caresses, "You are fools," exclaimed Eumolpus, "you certainly
are: here you are gifted with talents enough to make your fortunes and
you still lead a life of misery, and every day you bring new torments
upon yourselves, as the fruits of your own acts!)"