Book: The Satyricon, Vol. 2 (The Dinner of Trimalchio)
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Petronius Arbiter >> The Satyricon, Vol. 2 (The Dinner of Trimalchio)
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making 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, clad in green and girded with a
cherry-colored belt, shelling peas into a silver dish. Above the
threshold was suspended a golden cage, from which a black and white
magpie greeted the visitors.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH.
I almost fell backwards and broke my legs while staring at all this, for
to the left, as we entered, not far from the porter's alcove, an enormous
dog upon a chain was painted upon the wall, and above him this
inscription, in capitals:
BEWARE THE DOG.
My companions laughed, but I plucked up my courage and did not hesitate,
but went on and examined the entire wall. There was a scene in a slave
market, the tablets hanging from the slaves' necks, and Trimalchio
himself, wearing his hair long, holding a caduceus in his hand, entering
Rome, led by the hand of Minerva. Then again the painstaking artist had
depicted him casting up accounts, and still again, being appointed
steward; everything being explained by inscriptions. Where the walls
gave way to the portico, Mercury was shown lifting him up by the chin,
to a tribunal placed on high. Near by stood Fortune with her horn of
plenty, and the three Fates, spinning golden flax. I also took note of a
group of runners, in the portico, taking their exercise under the eye of
an instructor, and in one corner was a large cabinet, in which was a very
small shrine containing silver Lares, a marble Venus, and a golden casket
by no means small, which held, so they told us, the first shavings of
Trimalchio's beard. I asked the hall-porter what pictures were in the
middle hall. "The Iliad and the Odyssey," he replied, "and the
gladiatorial games given under Laenas." There was no time in which to
examine them all.
CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH.
We had now come to the dining-room, at the entrance to which sat a
factor, receiving accounts, and, what gave me cause for astonishment,
rods and axes were fixed to the door-posts, superimposed, as it were,
upon the bronze beak of a ship, whereon was inscribed:
TO GAIUS POMPEIUS TRIMALCHIO
AUGUSTAL, SEVIR
FROM CINNAMUS HIS
STEWARD.
A double lamp, suspended from the ceiling, hung beneath the inscription,
and a tablet was fixed to each door-post; one, if my memory serves me,
was inscribed,
ON DECEMBER THIRTIETH AND
THIRTY FIRST
OUR
GAIUS DINES OUT
the other bore a painting of the moon in her phases, and the seven
planets, and the days which were lucky and those which were unlucky,
distinguished by distinctive studs. We had had enough of these novelties
and started to enter the dining-room when a slave, detailed to this duty,
cried out, "Right foot first." Naturally, we were afraid that some of us
might break some rule of conduct and cross the threshold the wrong way;
nevertheless, we started out, stepping off together with the right foot,
when all of a sudden, a slave who had been stripped, threw himself at our
feet, and commenced begging us to save him from punishment, as it was no
serious offense for which he was in jeopardy; the steward's clothing had
been stolen from him in the baths, and the whole value could scarcely
amount to ten sesterces. So we drew back our right feet and intervened
with the steward, who was counting gold pieces in the hall, begging him
to remit the slave's punishment. Putting a haughty face on the matter,
"It's not the loss I mind so much," he said, "as it is the carelessness
of this worthless rascal. He lost my dinner clothes, given me on my
birthday they were, by a certain client, Tyrian purple too, but it had
been washed once already. But what does it amount to? I make you a
present of the scoundrel!"
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST.
We felt deeply obligated by his great condescension, and the same
slave for whom we had interceded, rushed up to us as we entered the
dining-room, and to our astonishment, kissed us thick and fast, voicing
his thanks for our kindness. "You'll know in a minute whom you did a
favor for," he confided, "the master's wine is the thanks of a grateful
butler!" At length we reclined, and slave boys from Alexandria poured
water cooled with snow upon our hands, while others following, attended
to our feet and removed the hangnails with wonderful dexterity, nor were
they silent even during this disagreeable operation, but they all kept
singing at their work. I was desirous of finding out whether the whole
household could sing, so I ordered a drink; a boy near at hand instantly
repeated my order in a singsong voice fully as shrill, and whichever one
you accosted did the same. You would not imagine that this was the
dining-room of a private gentleman, but rather that it was an exhibition
of pantomimes. A very inviting relish was brought on, for by now all the
couches were occupied save only that of Trimalchio, for whom, after a new
custom, the chief place was reserved.
On the tray stood a donkey made of Corinthian bronze, bearing panniers
containing olives, white in one and black in the other. Two platters
flanked the figure, on the margins of which were engraved Trimalchio's
name and the weight of the silver in each. Dormice sprinkled with
poppy-seed and honey were served on little bridges soldered fast to the
platter, and hot sausages on a silver gridiron, underneath which were
damson plums and pomegranate seeds.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SECOND.
We Were in the midst of these delicacies when, to the sound of music,
Trimalchio himself was carried in and bolstered up in a nest of small
cushions, which forced a snicker from the less wary. A shaven poll
protruded from a scarlet mantle, and around his neck, already muffled
with heavy clothing, he had tucked a napkin having a broad purple stripe
and a fringe that hung down all around. On the little finger of his left
hand he wore a massive gilt ring, and on the first joint of the next
finger, a smaller one which seemed to me to be of pure gold, but as a
matter of fact it had iron stars soldered on all around it. And then,
for fear all of his finery would not be displayed, he bared his right
arm, adorned with a golden arm-band and an ivory circlet clasped with a
plate of shining metal.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-THIRD.
Picking his teeth with a silver quill, "Friends," said he, "it was not
convenient for me to come into the dining-room just yet, but for fear my
absence should cause you any inconvenience, I gave over my own pleasure:
permit me, however, to finish my game." A slave followed with a
terebinth table and crystal dice, and I noted one piece of luxury that
was superlative; for instead of black and white pieces, he used gold and
silver coins. He kept up a continual flow of various coarse expressions.
We were still dallying with the relishes when a tray was brought in, on
which was a basket containing a wooden hen with her wings rounded and
spread out as if she were brooding. Two slaves instantly approached, and
to the accompaniment of music, commenced to feel around in the straw.
They pulled out some pea-hen's eggs, which they distributed among the
diners. Turning his head, Trimalchio saw what was going on. "Friends,"
he remarked. "I ordered pea-hen's eggs set under the hen, but I'm afraid
they're addled, by Hercules I am let's try them anyhow, and see if
they're still fit to suck." We picked up our spoons, each of which
weighed not less than half a pound, and punctured the shells, which were
made of flour and dough, and as a matter of fact, I very nearly threw
mine away for it seemed to me that a chick had formed already, but upon
hearing an old experienced guest vow, "There must be something good
here," I broke open the shell with my hand and discovered a fine fat
fig-pecker, imbedded in a yolk seasoned with pepper.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FOURTH.
Having finished his game, Trimalchio was served with a helping of
everything and was announcing in a loud voice his willingness to join
anyone in a second cup of honied wine, when, to a flourish of music, the
relishes were suddenly whisked away by a singing chorus, but a small dish
happened to fall to the floor, in the scurry, and a slave picked it up.
Seeing this, Trimalchio ordered that the boy be punished by a box on the
ear, and made him throw it down again; a janitor followed with his broom
and swept the silver dish away among the litter. Next followed two
long-haired Ethiopians, carrying small leather bottles, such as are
commonly seen in the hands of those who sprinkle sand in the arena, and
poured wine upon our hands, for no one offered us water. When
complimented upon these elegant extras, the host cried out, "Mars loves
a fair fight: and so I ordered each one a separate table: that way these
stinking slaves won't make us so hot with their crowding." Some glass
bottles carefully sealed with gypsum were brought in at that instant; a
label bearing this inscription was fastened to the neck of each one:
OPIMIAN FALERNIAN
ONE HUNDRED YEARS OLD.
While we were studying the labels, Trimalchio clapped his hands and
cried, "Ah me! To think that wine lives longer than poor little man.
Let's fill 'em up! There's life in wine and this is the real Opimian,
you can take my word for that. I offered no such vintage yesterday,
though my guests were far more respectable." We were tippling away and
extolling all these elegant devices, when a slave brought in a silver
skeleton, so contrived that the joints and movable vertebra could be
turned in any direction. He threw it down upon the table a time or two,
and its mobile articulation caused it to assume grotesque attitudes,
whereupon Trimalchio chimed in:
"Poor man is nothing in the scheme of things
And Orcus grips us and to Hades flings
Our bones! This skeleton before us here
Is as important as we ever were!
Let's live then while we may and life is dear."
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH.
The applause was followed by a course which, by its oddity, drew every
eye, but it did not come up to our expectations. There was a circular
tray around which were displayed the signs of the zodiac, and upon each
sign the caterer had placed the food best in keeping with it. Ram's
vetches on Aries, a piece of beef on Taurus, kidneys and lamb's fry on
Gemini, a crown on Cancer, the womb of an unfarrowed sow on Virgo, an
African fig on Leo, on Libra a balance, one pan of which held a tart and
the other a cake, a small seafish on Scorpio, a bull's eye on
Sagittarius, a sea lobster on Capricornus, a goose on Aquarius and two
mullets on Pisces. In the middle lay a piece of cut sod upon which
rested a honeycomb with the grass arranged around it. An Egyptian slave
passed bread around from a silver oven and in a most discordant voice
twisted out a song in the manner of the mime in the musical farce called
Laserpitium. Seeing that we were rather depressed at the prospect of
busying ourselves with such vile fare, Trimalchio urged us to fall to:
"Let us fall to, gentlemen, I beg of you, this is only the sauce!"
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SIXTH.
While he was speaking, four dancers ran in to the time of the music,
and removed the upper part of the tray. Beneath, on what seemed to be
another tray, we caught sight of stuffed capons and sows' bellies, and in
the middle, a hare equipped with wings to resemble Pegasus. At the
corners of the tray we also noted four figures of Marsyas and from their
bladders spouted a highly spiced sauce upon fish which were swimming
about as if in a tide-race. All of us echoed the applause which was
started by the servants, and fell to upon these exquisite delicacies,
with a laugh. "Carver," cried Trimalchio, no less delighted with the
artifice practised upon us, and the carver appeared immediately. Timing
his strokes to the beat of the music he cut up the meat in such a fashion
as to lead you to think that a gladiator was fighting from a chariot to
the accompaniment of a water-organ. Every now and then Trimalchio would
repeat "Carver, Carver," in a low voice, until I finally came to the
conclusion that some joke was meant in repeating a word so frequently, so
I did not scruple to question him who reclined above me. As he had often
experienced byplay of this sort he explained, "You see that fellow who is
carving the meat, don't you? Well, his name is Carver. Whenever
Trimalchio says Carver, carve her, by the same word, he both calls and
commands!"
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH.
I could eat no more, so I turned to my whilom informant to learn as much
as I could and sought to draw him out with far-fetched gossip. I
inquired who that woman could be who was scurrying about hither and yon
in such a fashion. "She's called Fortunata," he replied. "She's the
wife of Trimalchio, and she measures her money by the peck. And only a
little while ago, what was she! May your genius pardon me, but you would
not have been willing to take a crust of bread from her hand. Now,
without rhyme or reason, she's in the seventh heaven and is Trimalchio's
factotum, so much so that he would believe her if she told him it was
dark when it was broad daylight! As for him, he don't know how rich he
is, but this harlot keeps an eye on everything and where you least expect
to find her, you're sure to run into her. She's temperate, sober, full
of good advice, and has many good qualities, but she has a scolding
tongue, a very magpie on a sofa, those she likes, she likes, but those
she dislikes, she dislikes! Trimalchio himself has estates as broad as
the flight of a kite is long, and piles of money. There's more silver
plate lying in his steward's office than other men have in their whole
fortunes! And as for slaves, damn me if I believe a tenth of them knows
the master by sight. The truth is, that these stand-a-gapes are so much
in awe of him that any one of them would step into a fresh dunghill
without ever knowing it, at a mere nod from him!"
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH.
"And don't you get the idea that he buys anything; everything is produced
at home, wool, pitch, pepper, if you asked for hen's milk you would get
it. Because he wanted his wool to rival other things in quality, he
bought rams at Tarentum and sent 'em into his flocks with a slap on the
arse. He had bees brought from Attica, so he could produce Attic honey
at home, and, as a side issue, so he could improve the native bees by
crossing with the Greek. He even wrote to India for mushroom seed one
day, and he hasn't a single mule that wasn't sired by a wild ass. Do you
see all those cushions? Not a single one but what is stuffed with either
purple or scarlet wool! He hasn't anything to worry about! Look out how
you criticise those other fellow-freedmen-friends of his, they're all
well heeled. See the fellow reclining at the bottom of the end couch?
He's worth his 800,000 any day, and he rose from nothing. Only a short
while ago he had to carry faggots on his own back. I don't know how true
it is, but they say that he snatched off an Incubo's hat and found a
treasure! For my part, I don't envy any man anything that was given him
by a god. He still carries the marks of his box on the ear, and he isn't
wishing himself any bad luck! He posted this notice, only the other day:
CAIUS POMPONIUS DIOGENES HAS
PURCHASED A HOUSE
THIS GARNET FOR RENT AFTER
THE KALENDS OF JULY.
"What do you think of the fellow in the freedman's place? He has a good
front, too, hasn't he? And he has a right to. He saw his fortune
multiplied tenfold, but he lost heavily through speculation at the last.
I don't think he can call his very hair his own, and it is no fault of
his either, by Hercules, it isn't. There's no better fellow anywhere his
rascally freedmen cheated him out of everything. You know very well how
it is; everybody's business is nobody's business, and once let business
affairs start to go wrong, your friends will stand from under! Look at
the fix he's in, and think what a fine trade he had! He used to be an
undertaker. He dined like a king, boars roasted whole in their shaggy
Bides, bakers' pastries, birds, cooks and bakers! More wine was spilled
under his table than another has in his wine cellar. His life was like a
pipe dream, not like an ordinary mortal's. When his affairs commenced to
go wrong, and he was afraid his creditors would guess that he was
bankrupt, he advertised an auction and this was his placard:
JULIUS PROCULUS WILL SELL AT
AUCTION HIS SUPERFLUOUS
FURNITURE"
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-NINTH.
Trimalchio broke in upon this entertaining gossip, for the course had
been removed and the guests, happy with wine, had started a general
conversation: lying back upon his couch, "You ought to make this wine go
down pleasantly," he said, "the fish must have something to swim in. But
I say, you didn't think I'd be satisfied with any such dinner as you saw
on the top of that tray? 'Is Ulysses no better known?' Well, well, we
shouldn't forget our culture, even at dinner. May the bones of my patron
rest in peace, he wanted me to become a man among men. No one can show
me anything new, and that little tray has proved it. This heaven where
the gods live, turns into as many different signs, and sometimes into the
Ram: therefore, whoever is born under that sign will own many flocks and
much wool, a hard head, a shameless brow, and a sharp horn. A great many
school-teachers and rambunctious butters-in are born under that sign."
We applauded the wonderful penetration of our astrologer and he ran on,
"Then the whole heaven turns into a bull-calf and the kickers and
herdsmen and those who see to it that their own bellies are full, come
into the world. Teams of horses and oxen are born under the Twins, and
well-hung wenchers and those who bedung both sides of the wall. I was
born under the Crab and therefore stand on many legs and own much
property on land and sea, for the crab is as much at home on one as he is
in the other. For that reason, I put nothing on that sign for fear of
weighing down my own destiny. Bulldozers and gluttons are born under the
Lion, and women and fugitives and chain-gangs are born under the Virgin.
Butchers and perfumers are born under the Balance, and all who think that
it is their business to straighten things out. Poisoners and assassins
are born under the Scorpion. Cross-eyed people who look at the
vegetables and sneak away with the bacon, are born under the Archer.
Horny-handed sons of toil are born under Capricorn. Bartenders and
pumpkin-heads are born under the Water-Carrier. Caterers and
rhetoricians are born under the Fishes: and so the world turns round,
just like a mill, and something bad always comes to the top, and men are
either being born or else they're dying. As to the sod and the honeycomb
in the middle, for I never do anything without a reason, Mother Earth is
in the centre, round as an egg, and all that is good is found in her,
just like it is in a honeycomb."
CHAPTER THE FORTIETH.
"Bravo!" we yelled, and, with hands uplifted to the ceiling, we swore
that such fellows as Hipparchus and Aratus were not to be compared with
him. At length some slaves came in who spread upon the couches some
coverlets upon which were embroidered nets and hunters stalking their
game with boar-spears, and all the paraphernalia of the chase. We knew
not what to look for next, until a hideous uproar commenced, just outside
the dining-room door, and some Spartan hounds commenced to run around the
table all of a sudden. A tray followed them, upon which was served a
wild boar of immense size, wearing a liberty cap upon its head, and from
its tusks hung two little baskets of woven palm fibre, one of which
contained Syrian dates, the other, Theban. Around it hung little
suckling pigs made from pastry, signifying that this was a brood-sow with
her pigs at suck. It turned out that these were souvenirs intended to be
taken home. When it came to carving the boar, our old friend Carver, who
had carved the capons, did not appear, but in his place a great bearded
giant, with bands around his legs, and wearing a short hunting cape in
which a design was woven. Drawing his hunting-knife, he plunged it
fiercely into the boar's side, and some thrushes flew out of the gash.
fowlers, ready with their rods, caught them in a moment, as they
fluttered around the room and Trimalchio ordered one to each guest,
remarking, "Notice what fine acorns this forest-bred boar fed on," and as
he spoke, some slaves removed the little baskets from the tusks and
divided the Syrian and Theban dates equally among the diners.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-FIRST.
Getting a moment to myself, in the meantime, I began to speculate as to
why the boar had come with a liberty cap upon his head. After exhausting
my invention with a thousand foolish guesses, I made bold to put the
riddle which teased me to my old informant. "Why, sure," he replied,
"even your slave could explain that; there's no riddle, everything's as
plain as day! This boar made his first bow as the last course of
yesterday's dinner and was dismissed by the guests, so today he comes
back as a freedman!" I damned my stupidity and refrained from asking any
more questions for fear I might leave the impression that I had never
dined among decent people before. While we were speaking, a handsome
boy, crowned with vine leaves and ivy, passed grapes around, in a little
basket, and impersonated Bacchus-happy, Bacchus-drunk, and
Bacchus-dreaming, reciting, in the meantime, his master's verses, in a
shrill voice. Trimalchio turned to him and said, "Dionisus, be thou
Liber," whereupon the boy immediately snatched the cap from the boar's
head, and put it upon his own. At that Trimalchio added, "You can't
deny that my father's middle name was Liber!" We applauded Trimalchio's
conceit heartily, and kissed the boy as he went around. Trimalchio
retired to the close-stool, after this course, and we, having freedom of
action with the tyrant away, began to draw the other guests out. After
calling for a bowl of wine, Dama spoke up, "A day's nothing at all: it's
night before you can turn around, so you can't do better than to go
right to the dining-room from your bed. It's been so cold that I can
hardly get warm in a bath, but a hot drink's as good as an overcoat:
I've had some long pegs, and between you and me, I'm a bit groggy; the
booze has gone to my head."