Rome -- Fiction; Satire, Latin -- Translations into English
We would have cried aloud in our misery but there was no one to give us
any help, and whenever I attempted to shout, “Help! all honest
citizens,” Psyche would prick my cheeks with her hairpin, and the little
girl would intimidate Ascyltos with a brush dipped in satyrion. Then a
catamite appeared, clad in a myrtle-colored frieze robe, and girded round
with a belt. One minute he nearly gored us to death with his writhing
buttocks, and the next, he befouled us so with his stinking kisses that
Quartilla, with her robe tucked high, held up her whalebone wand and
ordered him to give the unhappy wretches quarter. Both of us then took a
most solemn oath that so dread a secret should perish with us. Several
wrestling instructors appeared and refreshed us, worn out as we were, by
a massage with pure oil, and when our fatigue had abated, we again donned
our dining clothes and were escorted to the next room, in which were
placed three couches, and where all the essentials necessary to a
splendid banquet were laid out in all their richness. We took our
places, as requested, and began with a wonderful first course. We were
all but submerged in Falernian wine. When several other courses had
followed, and we were endeavoring to keep awake Quartilla exclaimed, “How
dare you think of going to sleep when you know that the vigil of Priapus
is to be kept?”
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.
Worn out by all his troubles, Ascyltos commenced to nod, and the maid,
whom he had slighted, and of course insulted, smeared lampblack all over
his face, and painted his lips and shoulders with vermillion, while he
drowsed. Completely exhausted by so many untoward adventures, I, too,
was enjoying the shortest of naps, the whole household, within and
without, was doing the same, some were lying here and there asleep at our
feet, others leaned against the walls, and some even slept head to head
upon the threshold itself; the lamps, failing because of a lack of oil,
shed a feeble and flickering light, when two Syrians, bent upon stealing
an amphora of wine, entered the dining-room. While they were greedily
pawing among the silver, they pulled the amphora in two, upsetting the
table with all the silver plate, and a cup, which had flown pretty high,
cut the head of the maid, who was drowsing upon a couch. She screamed at
that, thereby betraying the thieves and wakening some of the drunkards.
The Syrians, who had come for plunder, seeing that they were about to be
detected, were so quick to throw themselves down besides a couch and
commence to snore as if they had been asleep for a long time, that you
would have thought they belonged there. The butler had gotten up and
poured oil in the flickering lamps by this time, and the boys, having
rubbed their eyes open, had returned to their duty, when in came a female
cymbal player and the crashing brass awoke everybody.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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