Satyricon, vol 5, Crotona Affairs | Page 4

and) fearing that it might give
cause for scandal if he were caught in this quiet place with me, tore
himself away and fled into an inner part of the house. (He had just gone
when) Chrysis entered the room and handed me her mistress's tablets,
in which were written the following words:
CIRCE TO POLYIENOS-GREETING.
Were I a wanton, I should complain of my disappointment, but as it is I
am beholden to your impotence, for by it I dallied the longer in the
shadow of pleasure. Still, I would like to know how you are and
whether you got home upon your own legs, for the doctors say that one
cannot walk without nerves! Young man, I advise you to beware of
paralysis for I never in my life saw a patient in such great danger;
you're as good as dead, I'm sure! What if the same numbness should
attack your hands and knees? You would have to send for the funeral
trumpeters! Still, even if I have been affronted, I will not begrudge a
prescription to one as sick as you! Ask Giton if you would like to
recover. I am sure you will get back your strength if you will sleep
without your "brother" for three nights. So far as I am concerned, I am

not in the least alarmed about. finding someone to whom I shall be as
pleasing as I was to you; my mirror and my reputation do not lie.
Farewell (if you can).
"Such things will happen," said Chrysis, when she saw that I had read
through the entire inditement, "and especially in this city, where the
women can lure the moon from the sky! But we'll find a cure for your
trouble. Just return a diplomatic answer to my mistress and restore her
self-esteem by frank courtesy for, truth to tell, she has never been
herself from the minute she received that affront." I gladly followed the
maid's advice and wrote upon the tablets as follows:

CHAPTER THE
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTIETH.
POLYAENOS TO CIRCE--GREETING.
Dear lady, I confess that I have often given cause for offense, for I am
only a man, and a young one, too, but I never committed a deadly
crime until today! You have my confession of guilt, I deserve any
punishment you may see fit to prescribe. I betrayed a trust, I murdered
a man, I violated a temple: demand my punishment for these crimes.
Should it be your pleasure to slay me I will come to you with my sword;
if you are content with a flogging I will run naked to my mistress; only
bear in mind that it was not myself but my tools that failed me. I was a
soldier, and ready, but I had no arms. What threw me into such disorder
I do not know, perhaps my imagination outran my lagging body, by
aspiring to too much it is likely that I spent my pleasure in delay; I
cannot imagine what the trouble was. You bid me beware of paralysis;
as if a disease which prevented my enjoying you could grow worse!
But my apology amounts briefly to this; if you will grant me an
opportunity of repairing my fault, I will give you satisfaction. Farewell
After dismissing Chrysis with these fair promises, I paid careful
attention to my body which had so evilly served me and, omitting the
bath, I annointed myself, in moderation, with unguents and placed
myself upon a more strengthening diet such as onions and snail's heads
without condiments, and I also drank more sparingly of wine; then,
taking a short walk before settling down to sleep, I went to bed without
Giton. So anxious was I to please her that I feared the outcome if my

"brother" lay tickling my side.

CHAPTER THE
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIRST.
Finding myself vigorous in mind and body when I arose next morning,
I went down to the same clump of plane trees, though I dreaded the
spot as one of evil omen, and commenced to wait for Chrysis to lead
me on my way. I took a short stroll and had just seated myself where I
had sat the day before, when she came under the trees, leading a little
old woman by the hand. "Well, Mr. Squeamish," she chirped, when she
had greeted me, "have you recovered your appetite?" In the meantime,
the old hag:
A wine-soaked crone with twitching lips
brought out a twisted hank of different colored yarns and put it about
my neck; she then kneaded dust and spittle and, dipping her middle
finger into the mixture, she crossed my forehead with it, in spite of my
protests.
As long as life remains, there's hope; Thou rustic God, oh hear our
prayer, Great