The Satyricon — Volume 02: Dinner of TrimalchioPetronius Arbiter
General
The Satyricon — Volume 02: Dinner of Trimalchio
Petronius Arbiter
Rome -- Fiction; Satire, Latin -- Translations into English
his house, too, who would have been glad to trip me up, but I swam the
flood, thanks to his kindness. Those are the things that try your
mettle, for it's as easy to be born a gentleman as to say, 'Come here.'
Well, what are you gaping at now, like a billy-goat in a vetch-field?"
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-EIGHTH.
Giton, who had been standing at my feet, and who had for some time been
holding in his laughter, burst into an uproarious guffaw, at this last
figure of speech, and when Ascyltos' adversary heard it, he turned his
abuse upon the boy. "What's so funny, you curly-headed onion," he
bellowed, "are the Saturnalia here, I'd like to know? Is it December
now?
"When did you pay your twentieth? What's this to you, you gallows-bird,
you crow's meat? I'll call the anger of Jupiter down on you and that
master of yours, who don't keep you in better order. If I didn't respect
my fellow-freedmen, I'd give you what is coming to you right here on the
spot, as I hope to get my belly full of bread, I would. We'll get along
well enough, but those that can't control you are fools; like master like
man's a true saying. I can hardly hold myself in and I'm not hot-headed
by nature, but once let me get a start and I don't care two cents for my
own mother. All right, I'll catch you in the street, you rat, you
toadstool. May I never grow an inch up or down if I don't push your
master into a dunghill, and I'll give you the same medicine, I will, by
Hercules, I will, no matter if you call down Olympian Jupiter himself!
I'll take care of your eight inch ringlets and your two cent master into
the bargain. I'll have my teeth into you, either you'll cut out the
laughing, or I don't know myself. Yes, even if you had a golden beard.
I'll bring the wrath of Minerva down on you and on the fellow that first
made a come-here out of you. No, I never learned geometry or criticism
or other foolishness like that, but I know my capital letters and I can
divide any figure by a hundred, be it in asses, pounds or sesterces.
Let's have a show-down, you and I will make a little bet, here's my coin;
you'll soon find out that your father's money was wasted on your
education, even if you do know a little rhetoric. How's this--what part
of us am I? I come far, I come wide, now guess me! I'll give you
another. What part of us runs but never moves from its place? What part
of us grows but always grows less? But you scurry around and are as
flustered and fidgeted as a mouse in a piss-pot. Shut up and don't annoy
your betters, who don't even know that you've been born. Don't think
that I'm impressed by those boxwood armlets that you did your mistress
out of. Occupo will back me! Let's go into the forum and borrow money,
then you'll see whether this iron ring means credit! Bah! A draggled
fox is a fine sight, ain't it'? I hope I never get rich and die decently
so that the people will swear by my death, if I don't hound you
everywhere with my toga turned inside out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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