Chapters 21–30

21 We wanted to cry out for pain, but there was no one to come to the rescue, and when I tried to cry “Help, all honest citizens!” Psyche pricked my cheek with a hair-pin, while the girl threatened Ascyltos with a wet sponge which she had soaked in an aphrodisiac. . . .

At last there arrived a low fellow in a fine brown suit with a waistband. . . .

Modo extortis nos clunibus cecidit, modo basiis olidissimis inquinavit, donee Quartilla balaenaceam tenens virgam alteque succincta iussit infelicibus dari missionem. . . .

We both of us took a solemn oath that the dreadful secret should die with us. . . .

A number of attendants came in, rubbed us down with pure oil, and refreshed us. Our fatigue vanished, we put on evening dress again, and were shown into the next room, where three couches were laid and a whole rich dinner-service was finely spread out. We were asked to sit down, and after beginning with some wonderful hors d’oeuvres we swam in wine, and that too Falernian. We followed this with more courses, and were dropping off to sleep, when Quartilla said, “Well, how can you think of going to sleep, when you know that is your duty to devote the whole night to the genius of Priapus?” .

22 Ascyltos was heavy-eyed with all his troubles, and was falling asleep, when the maid who had been driven away so rudely rubbed his face over with soot, and coloured his lips and his neck with vermilion while he drowsed. By this time I was tired out with adventures too, and had just taken the tiniest taste of sleep. All the servants, indoors and out, had done the same. Some lay anyhow by the feet of the guests, some leaned against the walls, some even stayed in the doorway with their heads together. The oil in the lamps had run out, and they gave a thin dying light. All at once two Syrians came in to rob the dining-room, and in quarrelling greedily over the plate pulled a large jug in two and broke it. The table fell over with the plate, and a cup which happened to fly some distance hit the head of the maid, who was lolling over a seat. The knock made her scream, and this showed up the thieves and woke some of the drunken party. The Syrians who had come to steal dropped side by side on a sofa, when they realized that they were being noticed, with the most convincing naturalness, and began to snore like old-established sleepers.

By this time the butler had got up and refilled the flickering lamps. The boys rubbed their eyes for a few minutes, and then came back to wait. Then a girl with cymbals came in, and the crash of the brass aroused everybody.

23 Our evening began afresh, and Quartilla called us back again to our cups. The girl with the cymbals gave her fresh spirits for the revel. . . .

Intrat cinaedus, homo omnium insulsissimus et plane illa domo dignus, qui ut infractis manibus congemuit, eiusmodi carmina effudit:

“Huc huc cito convenite nunc, spatalocinaedi, Pede tendite, cursum addite, convolate planta Femoreque’ facili, clune agili et manu procaces, Molles, veteres, Deliaci manu recisi.”

Consumptis versibus suis immundissimo me basio conspuit. Mox et super lectum venit atque omni i detexit recusantem. Super inguina mea diu multumque frustra moluit. Profluebant per frontem sudantis acaciae rivi, et inter rugas malarum tantum erat cretae, ut putares detectum parietem nimbo laborare.

24 Non tenui ego diutius lacrimas, sed ad ultimam, perductus tristitiam “Quaeso”’ inquam “domina, certe embasicoetan iusseras dari.” Complosit illa tenerius manus et O” inquit hominem acutum atque urbanitatis vernaculae fontem. Quid tu non intellexeras cinaedum embasicoetan vocari?’ Deinde ut contubernali meo melius succederet, “Per fidem” inquam vestram, Ascyltos in hoc triclinio solus ferias agit?” Ita” inquit Quartilla “et Ascylto embasicoetas de-

tur.” Ab hac voce equum cinaedus mutavit transituque ad comitem meum facto clunibus eum basiisque distrivit. Stabat inter haec Giton et risu dissolvebat ilia sua. Itaque conspicata eum Quartilla, cuius esset puer, diligentissima sciscitatione quaesivit. Cum ego fratrem meum esse dixissem, “Quare ergo” inquit “me non basiavit?’”’ Vocatumque ad se in osculum applicuit. Mox manum etiam demisit in sinum et pertrectato vasculo tam rudi “Haec” inquit “belle cras in promulside libidinis nostrae militabit: hodie enim post asellum diaria non sumo.”

25 Cum haec diceret, ad aurem eius Psyche ridens accessit, et cum dixisset nescio quid, “Ita, ita” inquit Quartilla “bene admonuisti. Cur non, quia bellissima occasio est, devirginatur Pannychis nostra?” Continuoque producta est puella satis bella et quae non plus quam septem annos habere videbatur, [et] ea ipsa quae primum cum Quartilla in cellam venerat nostram. Plaudentibus ergo universis et postulantibus nuptias [fecerunt] obstupui ego et nec Gitona, verecundissimum puerum, sufficere huic petulantiae affirmavi, nec puellam eius aetatis esse, ut muliebris patientiae legem posset accipere. Ita” inquit Quartilla “minor est ista quam ego fui, cum primum virum passa sum? Iunonem meam iratam habeam, si unquam me meminerim virginem fuisse. Nam et infans cum paribus inclinata sum, et subinde procedentibus” annis maioribus me pueris applicui, donec ad hanc aetatem perveni. Hine etiam puto proverbium natum illud, ut dicatur posse taurum tollere, qui vitulum sustulerit.” Igitur ne maiorem iniuriam in secreto frater acciperet, consurrexi ad officium nuptiale.

26 Iam Psyche puellae caput involverat flammeo, iam embasicoetas praeferebat facem, iam ebriae mulieres longum agmen plaudentes fecerant thalamumque incesta exornaverant veste, cum Quartilla quoque iocantium libidine accensa et ipsa surrexit correptumque Gitona in cubiculum traxit.

Sine dubio non repugnaverat puer, ac ne puella quidem tristis expaverat nuptiarum nomen. Itaque cum inclusi iacerent, consedimus ante limen thalami, et in primis Quartilla per rimam improbe diductam applicuerat oculum curiosum lusumque puerilem libidinosa speculabatur diligentia. Me quoque ad idem spectaculum lenta manu traxit, et quia considerantium cohaeserant vultus, quicquid a spectaculo vacabat, commovebat obiter labra et me tanquam furtivis subinde osculis verberabat. . . .

We threw ourselves into bed and spent the rest of the night without terrors. . . .

The third day had come. A good dinner was promised. But we were bruised and sore. Escape was better even than rest. We were making some melancholy plans for avoiding the coming storm, when one of Agamemnon’s servants came up as we stood hesitating, and said, “Do you not know at whose house it is to-day? Trimalchio, a very rich man, who has a clock and a uniformed trumpeter in his dining-room, to keep telling him how much of his life is lost and gone.” We forgot our troubles and hurried into our clothes, and told Giton, who till now had been waiting on us very willingly, to follow us to the baths.

27 We began to take a stroll in evening dress to pass the time, or rather to joke and mix with the groups of players, when all at once we saw a bald old man in a reddish shirt playing at ball with some long-haired boys. It was not the boys that attracted our notice, though they deserved it, but the old gentleman, who was in his house-shoes, busily engaged with a green ball. He never picked it up if it touched the ground. A slave stood by with a bagful and supplied them to the players. We also observed a new feature in the game. Two eunuchs were standing at different points in the group. One held a silver jordan, one counted the balls, not as they flew from hand to hand in the rigour of the game, but when they dropped to the ground. We were amazed at such a display, and then Menelaus ran up and said, “This is the man who will give you places at his table: indeed what you see is the overture to his dinner.” Menelaus had just finished when

Trimalchio cracked his fingers. One eunuch came up at this signal and held the jordan for him as he played. He relieved himself and called for a basin, dipped in his hands and wiped them on a boy’s head.

28 I cannot linger over details. We went into the bath. We stayed till we ran with sweat, and then at once passed through into the cold water. Trimalchio was now anointed all over and rubbed down, not with towels, but with blankets of the softest wool. Three masseurs sat there drinking Falernian wine under his eyes. They quarrelled and spilt a quantity. Trimalchio said they were drinking his health. Then he was rolled up in a scarlet woollen coat and put ina litter. Four runners decked with medals went before him, and a hand-cart on which his favourite rode. This was a wrinkled blear-eyed boy uglier than his master Trimalchio. As he was being driven off, a musician with a tiny pair of pipes arrived, and played the whole way as though he were whispering secrets in his ear.

We followed, lost in wonder, and came with Agamemnon to the door. A notice was fastened on the doorpost: “No SLAVE TO GO OUT OF DOORS EXCEPT BY THE MASTER'S ORDERS. PENALTY, ONE HUNDRED STRIPES.” Just at the entrance stood a porter in green clothes, with a cherry-coloured belt, shelling peas in a silver dish. A golden cage hung in the doorway, and a spotted magpie in it greeted visitors.

29 I was gazing at all this, when I nearly fell backwards and broke my leg. For on the left hand as you went in, not far from the porter’s office, a great dog on a chain was painted on the wall, and over him was written in large letters

BEWARE OF THE DOG.” My friends laughed at me, but I plucked up courage and went on to examine the whole wall. It had a picture of a slave-market on it, with the persons’ names. Trimalchio was there with long hair, holding a Mercury’s staff.! Minerva had him by the hand and was leading him into Rome. Then the painstaking artist had given a faithful picture of his whole career with explanations: how he had learned to keep accounts, and how at last he had been made steward. At the point where the wall-space gave out, Mercury had taken him by the chin, and was whirling him up to his high official throne. Fortune stood by with her flowing horn of plenty, and the three Fates spinning their golden threads. I also observed a company of runners practising in the gallery under a trainer, and in a corner I saw a large cupboard containing a tiny shrine, wherein were silver house-gods, and a marble image of Venus, and a large golden box, where they told me Trimalchio’s first beard was laid up.

I began to ask the porter what pictures they had in the hall. “The Iliad and the Odyssey,” he said, “and the gladiator’s show given by Laenas.”’ I could not take them all in at once. . . .

30 We now went through to the dining-room. At the entrance the steward sat receiving accounts. I was particularly astonished to see rods and axes fixed on the door posts of the dining-room, and one part of them finished off with a kind of ship’s beak, inscribed:

“PRESENTED BY CINNAMUS THE STEWARD TO CAIUS POMPEIUS TRIMALCHIO, PRIEST OF THE COLLEGE OF AUGUSTUS.”? Under this inscription a double lamp hung from the ceiling, and two calendars were fixed on either doorpost, one having this entry, if I remember right: “Our master C. is out to supper on December the 30th and 31st,” the other being painted with the moon in her course, and the likenesses of the seven stars. Lucky and unlucky days were marked too with distinctive knobs.

Fed full of these delights, we tried to get into the dining-room, when one of the slaves, who was entrusted with this duty, cried, “Right foot first!” For a moment we were naturally nervous, for fear any of us had broken the rule in crossing the threshold. But just as we were all taking a step with the right foot together, a slave stripped for flogging fell at our feet, and began to implore us to save him from punishment. It was no great sin which had put him in such peril; he had lost the steward’s clothes in the bath, and the whole lot were scarcely worth ten sesterces. So we drew back our right feet, and begged the steward, who sat counting gold pieces in the hall, to let the slave off. He looked up haughtily, and cried

“It is not the loss I mind so much as the villain’s carelessness. He lost my dinner dress, which one of my clients gave me on my birthday. It was Tyrian dve, of course, but it had been washed once already. Well, well, I make you a present of the fellow.”