Satyricon, vol 2, Trimalchio

The Satyricon of Petronius
Arbiter, v2
by Petronius
Arbiter (Translated by
Firebaugh)

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Title: The Satyricon, v2 (Dinner of Trimalchio)

Author: Petronius Arbiter
Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5219] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 8, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
SATYRICON OF PETRONIUS, V2 ***

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an entire meal of them. D.W.]

THE SATYRICON OF PETRONIUS ARBITER
Complete and unexpurgated translation by W. C. Firebaugh, in which
are incorporated the forgeries of Nodot and Marchena, and the readings
introduced into the text by De Salas.
BRACKET CODE: (Forgeries of Nodot) [Forgeries of Marchena]
{Additions of De Salas} DW
VOLUME 2.--THE DINNER OF TRIMALCHIO
CHAPTER THE

TWENTY-SEVENTH.
Having put on our clothes, in the meantime, we commenced to stroll
around and soon, the better to amuse ourselves, approached the circle
of players; all of a sudden we caught sight of a bald-headed old fellow,
rigged out in a russet colored tunic, playing ball with some long haired
boys. It was not so much the boys who attracted our attention, although
they might well have merited it, as it was the spectacle afforded by this
beslippered paterfamilias playing with a green ball. If one but touched
the ground, he never stooped for it to put it back in play; for a slave
stood by with a bagful from which the players were supplied. We noted
other innovations as well, for two eunuchs were stationed at opposite
sides of the ring, one of whom held a silver chamber-pot, the other
counted the balls; not those which bounced back and forth from hand to
hand, in play, but those which fell to the ground. While we were
marveling at this display of refinement, Menelaus rushed up, "He is the
one with whom you will rest upon your elbow," he panted, "what you
see now, is only a prelude to the dinner." Menelaus had scarcely ceased
speaking when Trimalchio snapped his fingers; the eunuch, hearing the
signal, held the chamber-pot for him while he still continued playing.
After relieving his bladder, he called for water to wash his hands,
barely moistened his fingers, and dried them upon a boy's head.
CHAPTER THE
TWENTY-EIGHTH.
To go into details would take too long. We entered the bath, finally,
and after sweating for a minute or two in the warm room, we passed
through into the cold water. But short as was the time, Trimalchio had
already been sprinkled with perfume and was being rubbed down, not
with linen towels, however, but with cloths made from the finest wool.
Meanwhile, three masseurs were guzzling Falernian under his eyes, and
when they spilled a great deal of it in their brawling, Trimalchio
declared they were pouring a libation to his Genius. He was then
wrapped in a coarse scarlet wrap-rascal, and placed in a litter. Four
runners, whose liveries were decorated with metal plates, preceded him,

as also did a wheel-chair in which rode his favorite, a withered, blear
eyed slave, even more repulsive looking than his master. A singing boy
approached the head of his litter, as he was being carried along, and
played upon small pipes the whole way, just as if he were
communicating some secret to his master's ear. Marveling greatly, we
followed, and met Agamemnon at the outer door, to the post of which
was fastened a small tablet bearing this inscription:
NO SLAVE TO LEAVE THE PREMISES WITHOUT PERMISSION
FROM THE MASTER. PENALTY ONE HUNDRED LASHES.
In the vestibule stood the porter,