The Satyricon of Petronius ArbiterPetronius Arbiter
General
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter
Petronius Arbiter
Rome -- Fiction; Satire, Latin -- Translations into English
When Eumolpus, with his usual freedom, had deliver'd himself of this,
we arrived at Crotona, where having refresht our selves in a little
inn, we took up at the next day, designing an enlargement of our house
and fortune, we fell into the company of some parasitical Corbacchio's
who immediately enquir'd what we were and whence we came? When,
according to our contrivance, prudently advancing our characters, we
told the credulous parasites whence we came, and who we were. Upon
which, immediately all their fortunes were at Eumolpus's feet, and
each, to ingratiate himself into his favour, strove to exceed the rest
in presenting him.
While this flood of fortune was for a long time flowing on us,
Eumolpus, 'midst his happiness, having lost the memory of his former
condition, so boasted his interest, that he affirm'd none in Crotona
cou'd resist his desires; and that what e're crime any of us shou'd
act, he had friends enough to wipe off the guilt.
But, tho' our daily increasing riches, left my pamper'd body no desire
unsatisfy'd; and tho' I flatter'd my self into an opinion that ill
fortune had taken her last leave of me, yet not only the thoughts of
my present condition, but the means of getting to 't, wou'd oft break
in upon my joys, and bitter all the sweet. "And what," said I to
myself, "if some one, wiser than the rest, shou'd dispatch a messenger
for Africk; shou'd not we soon be discover'd? What if the slave
Eumolpus, pickt up, glutted with his present happiness, shou'd betray
us to his companions, and maliciously discover the whole cheat? We
should then be put upon the strole again, and be oblig'd with shame to
renew our former beggary. Heavens, how ill it fares with wicked
lives! they ever expect the punishment they deserve."
Going out full of these thoughts to divert my concern, I resolv'd on a
walk, but I had scarce got into a publick one, e're a pretty girl made
up to me, and calling me Polyæmus, told me her lady wou'd be proud
of an opportunity to speak with me.
"You're mistaken, sweet-heart," return'd I, in a little heat, "I'm but
a servant, of another country too, and not worthy of so great a
favour."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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