Satyricon, vol 5, Crotona Affairs | Page 3

two together I will owe heaven a favor. I don't know what it is, but
some god's silent purpose is beneath this. Circe loves not Polyaenos
without some reason; a great torch is always flaming when these names
meet! Take me in your arms then, if you will; there's no prying stranger
to fear, and your 'brother' is far away from this spot!" So saying, Circe
clasped me in arms that were softer than down and drew me to the
ground which was covered with colored flowers.
With flowers like these did Mother Earth great Ida's summit strew
When Jupiter, his heart aflame, enjoyed his lawful love; There glowed
the rose, the flowering rush, the violet's deep blue, From out green
meadows snow-white lilies laughed. Then from above, This setting
summoned Venus to the green and tender sod, Bright day smiled kindly
on the secret amour of the God.
Side by side upon the grassy plot we lay, exchanging a thousand kisses,
the prelude to more poignant pleasure, (but alas! My sudden loss of
vigor disappointed Circe!)

CHAPTER THE
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT.
(Infuriated at this affront,) "What's the matter," demanded she; "do my
kisses offend you? Is my breath fetid from fasting? Is there any evil
smelling perspiration in my armpits? Or, if it's nothing of this kind, are
you afraid of Giton?" Under her eyes, I flushed hotly and, if I had any
virility left, I lost it then; my whole body seemed to be inert. "My
queen," I cried, "do not mock me in my humiliation. I am bewitched!"
(Circe's anger was far from being appeased by such a trivial excuse;
turning her eyes contemptuously away from me, she looked at her
maid,) "Tell me, Chrysis, and tell me truly, is there anything repulsive
about me? Anything sluttish? Have I some natural blemish that
disfigures my beauty? Don't deceive your mistress! I don't know what's
the matter with us, but there must be something!" Then she snatched a
mirror from the silent maid and after scrutinizing all the looks and
smiles which pass between lovers, she shook out her wrinkled
earth-stained robe and flounced off into the temple of Venus (nearby.)
And here was I, like a convicted criminal who had seen some horrible
nightmare, asking myself whether the pleasure out of which I had been
cheated was a reality or only a dream.
As when, in the sleep-bringing night Dreams sport with the wandering
eyes, And earth, spaded up, yields to light Her gold that by day she
denies, The stealthy hand snatches the spoils; The face with cold sweat
is suffused And Fear grips him tight in her toils Lest robbers the secret
have used And shake out the gold from his breast. But, when they
depart from his brain, These enchantments by which he's obsessed, And
Truth comes again with her train Restoring perspective and pain, The
phantasm lives to the last, The mind dwells with shades of the past.
(The misfortune seemed to me a dream, but I imagined that I must
surely be under a spell of enchantment and, for a long time, I was so
devoid of strength that I could not get to my feet. But finally my mental
depression began to abate, little by little my strength came back to me,
and I returned home: arrived there, I feigned illness and threw myself
upon my couch. A little late: Giton, who had heard of my indisposition,
entered the room in some concern. As I wished to relieve his mind I

informed him that I had merely sought my pallet to take a rest, telling
him much other gossip but not a word about my mishap as I stood in
great fear of his jealousy and, to lull any suspicion which he might
entertain, I drew him to my side and endeavoured to give him some
proofs of my love but all my panting and sweating were in vain. He
jumped up in a rage and accused my lack of virility and change of heart,
declaring that he had for a long time suspected that I had been
expending my vigor and breath elsewhere. "No! No! Darling," I replied,
"my love for you has always been the same, but reason prevails now
over love and wantonness.") "And for the Socratic continence of your
love, I thank you in his name," (he replied sarcastically,) "Alcibiades
was never more spotless when he left his master's bed!"

CHAPTER THE
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-NINTH.
"Believe me, 'brother,' when I tell you that I do not know whether I am
a man or not," (I vainly protested;) "I do not feel like one, if I am! Dead
and buried lies that part in which I was once an Achilles!" (Giton,
seeing that I was completely enervated,