The Satyricon of Petronius ArbiterPetronius Arbiter
General
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter
Petronius Arbiter
Rome -- Fiction; Satire, Latin -- Translations into English
Nor was the cook's ingenuity short of the rest, for he brought us a
dish of grill'd snails on a silver gridiron, and with a shrill
unpleasant voice, sang as he went. I am asham'd of what follow'd;
for, what was never heard of till then, the boys came in with a bason
of liquid perfumes, and first binding our legs, ancles and feet, with
garlands, anointed them with it, and put the rest into the wine vessel
and the lamps.
And now Fortunata began to dance, and Scintilla's hands went faster
than her tongue; when, quoth Trimalchio, "Sit down Philargyrus; I give
ye leave, and you Carrio, because you are a green-ribbon-man, and you
Minophilus bid your comrade do the like"; what shall I say more? The
family so crowded upon us, that we were almost thrust off our beds;
and who should be seated above me, but the cook who had made a goose
of a hog, all stinking of pickle and kitchen-stuff; nor yet content
that he sate amongst us, he fell immediately to personate Thespis the
tragedian, and dare his master to a wager which of them two should win
the prize next wrestling.
Trimalchio abash'd at the challenge; "My friends," said he, "even
servants are men; and however oppress'd by ill luck, sucked the same
milk our selves did; and for mine, it shall not be long e're I make
them free without prejudice to my self: to be short, I enfranchise all
of them by my last will and testament.
"I give Philargus a country farm, and his she-comrade; to Carrio an
island, with a twentieth part of my moveables, a bed and its
furniture; for I make Fortunata my heiress, whom I recommend to all my
friends, and publish what I have done, to the end my family may so
love me now, as if I were dead."
All thanked their master for his kindness; and he, as having forgotten
trifles, called for a copy of his will, which he read from one end to
the other, the family all the while sighing and sobbing; afterwards
turning to Habinas, "Tell me, my best of friends," said he, "do you go
on with my monument as I directed ye, I earnestly entreat ye, that at
the feet of my statue you carve me my little bitch, as also garlands
and ointments, and all the battles I have been in, that by your
kindness I may live when I am dead: Be sure too that it have an
hundred feet as it fronts the highway, and as it looks towards the
fields two hundred: I will also, that there be all sorts of fruit and
vines round my ashes, and that in great abundance: For it is a gross
mistake to furnish houses for the living, and take no care of those we
are to abide in for ever: And therefore in the first place, I will
have it engraven--
'LET NO HEIR OF MINE PRETEND TO THIS MONUMENT.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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