Book: The Satyricon, Vol. 3 (Encolpius and His Companions)
P >>
Petronius Arbiter >> The Satyricon, Vol. 3 (Encolpius and His Companions)
[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 3.--FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ENCOLPIUS AND HIS COMPANIONS
CHAPTER THE SEVENTY-NINTH.
There was no torch to light the way for us, as we wandered around, nor
did the silence of midnight give promise of our meeting any wayfarer with
a light; in addition to this, we were drunk and unfamiliar with the
district, which would confuse one, even in daylight, so for the best part
of a mortal hour we dragged our bleeding feet over all the flints and
pieces of broken tile, till we were extricated, at last, by Giton's
cleverness. This prudent youngster had been afraid of going astray on
the day before, so he had taken care to mark all the pillars and columns
with chalk. These marks stood out distinctly, even through the pitchy
night, and by their brilliant whiteness pointed out the way for us as we
wandered about. Nevertheless, we had no less cause for being in a sweat
even when we came to our lodging, for the old woman herself had been
sitting and swilling so long with her guests that even if one had set her
afire, she would not have known it. We would have spent the night on the
door-sill had not Trimalchio's courier come up in state, with ten wagons;
he hammered on the door for a short time, and then smashed it in, giving
us an entrance through the same breach. (Hastening to the
sleeping-chamber, I went to bed with my "brother" and, burning with
passion as I was, after such a magnificent dinner, I surrendered myself
wholly to sexual gratification.)
Oh Goddesses and Gods, that purple night
How soft the couch! And we, embracing tight;
With every wandering kiss our souls would meet!
Farewell all mortal woes, to die were sweet
But my self-congratulation was premature, for I was overcome with wine,
and when my unsteady hands relaxed their hold, Ascyltos, that
never-failing well-spring of iniquity, stole the boy away from me in the
night and carried him to his own bed, where he wallowed around without
restraint with a "brother" not his own, while the latter, not noticing
the fraud, or pretending not to notice it, went to sleep in a stranger's
arms, in defiance of all human rights. Awaking at last, I felt the bed
over and found that it had been despoiled of its treasure: then, by all
that lovers hold dear, I swear I was on the verge of transfixing them
both with my sword and uniting their sleep with death. At last,
however, I adopted a more rational plan; I spanked Giton into
wakefulness, and, glaring at Ascyltos, "Since you have broken faith by
this outrage," I gritted out, with a savage frown, "and severed our
friendship, you had better get your things together at once, and pick up
some other bottom for your abominations!" He raised no objection to
this, but after we had divided everything with scrupulous exactitude,
"Come on now," he demanded, "and we'll divide the boy!"
CHAPTER THE EIGHTIETH.
I thought this was a parting joke till he whipped out his sword, with a
murderous hand. "You'll not have this prize you're brooding over, all to
yourself! Since I've been rejected, I'll have to cut off my share with
this sword." I followed suit, on my side, and, wrapping a mantle around
my left arm, I put myself on guard for the duel. The unhappy boy,
rendered desperate by our unreasoning fury, hugged each of us tightly by
the knee, and in tears he humbly begged that this wretched lodging-house
should not witness a Theban duel, and that we would not pollute--with
mutual bloodshed the sacred rites of a friendship that was, as yet,
unstained. "If a crime must be committed," he wailed, "here is my naked
throat, turn your swords this way and press home the points. I ought to
be the one to die, I broke the sacred pledge of friendship." We lowered
our points at these entreaties. "I'll settle this dispute," Ascyltos
spoke up, "let the boy follow whomsoever he himself wishes to follow.
In that way, he, at least, will have perfect freedom in choosing a
'brother'." Imagining that a relationship of such long standing had
passed into a tie of blood, I was not at all uneasy, so I snatched at
this proposition with precipitate eagerness, and submitted the dispute to
the judge. He did not deliberate long enough to seem even to hesitate,
for he got up and chose Ascyltos for a "brother," as soon as the last
syllable had passed my lips! At this decision I was thunder-struck,
and threw myself upon the bed, unarmed and just as I stood. Had I not
begrudged my enemy such a triumph, I would have laid violent hands upon
myself. Flushed with success, Ascyltos marched out with his prize, and
abandoned, in a strange town, a comrade in the depths of despair; one
whom, but a little while before, he had loved most unselfishly, one whose
destiny was so like his own.
As long as is expedient, the name of friendship lives,
Just as in dicing, Fortune smiles or lowers;
When good luck beckons, then your friend his gleeful service gives
But basely flies when ruin o'er you towers.
The strollers act their farces upon the stage, each one his part,
The father, son, the rich man, all are here,
But soon the page is turned upon the comic actor's art,
The masque is dropped, the make-ups disappear!
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-FIRST.
Nevertheless, I did not indulge myself very long in tears, being afraid
that Menelaus, the tutor, might drop in upon me all alone in the
lodging-house, and catch me in the midst of my troubles, so I collected my
baggage and, with a heavy heart, sneaked off to an obscure quarter near
the seashore. There, I kept to my room for three days. My mind was
continually haunted by my loneliness and desertion, and I beat my breast,
already sore from blows. "Why could not the earth have opened and
swallowed me," I wailed aloud, between the many deep-drawn groans, "or
the sea, which rages even against the guiltless? Did I flee from
justice, murder my ghost, and cheat the arena, in order that, after so
many proofs of courage, I might be left lying here deserted, a beggar and
an exile, in a lodging-house in a Greek town? And who condemned me to
this desolation'? A boy stained by every form of vice, who, by his own
confession, ought to be exiled: free, through vice, expert in vice, whose
favors came through a throw of the dice, who hired himself out as a girl
to those who knew him to be a boy! And as to the other, what about him?
In place of the manly toga, he donned the woman's stola when he reached
the age of puberty: he resolved, even from his mother's womb, never to
become a man; in the slave's prison he took the woman's part in the
sexual act, he changed the instrument of his lechery when he
double-crossed me, abandoned the ties of a long-standing friendship,
and, shame upon him, sold everything for a single night's dalliance,
like any other street-walker! Now the lovers lie whole nights, locked
in each other's arms, and I suppose they make a mockery of my desolation
when they are resting up from the exhaustion caused by their mutual
excesses. But not with impunity! If I don't avenge the wrong they have
done me in their guilty blood, I'm no free man!"
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-SECOND.
I girded on my sword, when I had said these words, and, fortifying my
strength with a heavy meal, so that weakness would not cause me to lose
the battle, I presently sallied forth into the public streets and rushed
through all the arcades, like a maniac. But while, with my face savagely
convulsed in a frown, I was meditating nothing but bloodshed and
slaughter, and was continually clapping my hand to the hilt of my sword,
which I had consecrated to this, I was observed by a soldier, that is, he
either was a real soldier, or else he was some night-prowling thug, who
challenged me. "Halt! Who goes there? What legion are you from? Who's
your centurion?" "Since when have men in your outfit gone on pass in
white shoes?" he retorted, when I had lied stoutly about both centurion
and legion. Both my face and my confusion proved that I had been caught
in a lie, so he ordered me to surrender my arms and to take care that I
did not get into trouble. I was held up, as a matter of course, and, my
revenge balked, I returned to my lodging-house and, recovering by degrees
from my fright, I began to be grateful to the boldness of the footpad.
It is not wise to place much reliance upon any scheme, because Fortune
has a method of her own.
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-THIRD.
(Nevertheless, I found it very difficult to stifle my longing for
revenge, and after tossing half the night in anxiety, I arose at dawn
and, in the hope of mitigating my mental sufferings and of forgetting my
wrongs, I took a walk through all the public arcades and) entered a
picture-gallery, which contained a wonderful collection of pictures in
various styles. I beheld works from the hand of Zeuxis, still undimmed
by the passage of the years, and contemplated, not without a certain awe,
the crude drawings of Protogenes, which equalled the reality of nature
herself; but when I stood before the work of Apelles, the kind which the
Greeks call "Monochromatic," verily, I almost worshipped, for the
outlines of the figures were drawn with such subtlety of touch, and were
so life-like in their precision, that you would have thought their very
souls were depicted. Here, an eagle was soaring into the sky bearing the
shepherd of Mount Ida to heaven; there, the comely Hylas was struggling
to escape from the embrace of the lascivious Naiad. Here, too, was
Apollo, cursing his murderous hand and adorning his unstrung lyre with
the flower just created. Standing among these lovers, which were only
painted, "It seems that even the gods are wracked by love," I cried
aloud, as if I were in a wilderness. "Jupiter could find none to his
taste, even in his own heaven, so he had to sin on earth, but no one was
betrayed by him! The nymph who ravished Hylas would have controlled her
passion had she thought Hercules was coming to forbid it. Apollo
recalled the spirit of a boy in the form of a flower, and all the lovers
of Fable enjoyed Love's embraces without a rival, but I took as a comrade
a friend more cruel than Lycurgus!" But at that very instant, as I was
telling my troubles to the winds, a white-haired old man entered the
picture-gallery; his face was care-worn, and he seemed, I know not why,
to give promise of something great, although he bestowed so little care
upon his dress that it was easily apparent that he belonged to that class
of literati which the wealthy hold in contempt. "I am a poet," he
remarked, when he had approached me and stood at my side, "and one of no
mean ability, I hope, that is, if anything is to be inferred from the
crowns which gratitude can place even upon the heads of the unworthy!
Then why, you demand, are you dressed so shabbily? For that very reason;
love or art never yet made anyone rich."
The trader trusts his fortune to the sea and takes his gains,
The warrior, for his deeds, is girt with gold;
The wily sycophant lies drunk on purple counterpanes,
Young wives must pay debauchees or they're cold.
But solitary, shivering, in tatters Genius stands
Invoking a neglected art, for succor at its hands.
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-FOURTH.
"It is certainly true that a man is hated when he declares himself an
enemy to all vice, and begins to follow the right road in life, because,
in the first place, his habits are different from those of other people;
for who ever approved of anything to which he took exceptions? Then,
they whose only ambition is to pile up riches, don't want to believe that
men can possess anything better than that which they have themselves;
therefore, they use every means in their power to so buffet the lovers
of literature that they will seem in their proper place--below the
moneybags." "I know not why it should be so," (I said with a sigh), "but
Poverty is the sister of Genius." ("You have good reason," the old man
replied, "to deplore the status of men of letters." "No," I answered,
"that was not the reason for my sigh, there is another and far weightier
cause for my grief." Then, in accordance with the human propensity of
pouring one's personal troubles into another's ears, I explained my
misfortune to him, and dwelt particularly upon Ascyltos' perfidy.) "Oh
how I wish that this enemy who is the cause of my enforced continence
could be mollified," (I cried, with many a groan,) "but he is an old hand
at robbery, and more cunning than the pimps themselves!" (My frankness
pleased the old man, who attempted to comfort me and, to beguile my
sorrow, he related the particulars of an amorous intrigue in which he
himself had played a part.)
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-FIFTH.
"When I was attached to the Quaestor's staff, in Asia, I was quartered
with a family at Pergamus. I found things very much to my liking there,
not only on account of the refined comfort of my apartments, but also
because of the extreme beauty of my host's son. For the latter reason,
I had recourse to strategy, in order that the father should never suspect
me of being a seducer. So hotly would I flare up, whenever the abuse
of handsome boys was even mentioned at the table, and with such
uncompromising sternness would I protest against having my ears insulted
by such filthy talk, that I came to be looked upon, especially by the
mother, as one of the philosophers. I was conducting the lad to the
gymnasium before very long, and superintending his conduct, taking
especial care, all the while, that no one who could debauch him should
ever enter the house. Then there came a holiday, the school was closed,
and our festivities had rendered us too lazy to retire properly, so we
lay down in the dining-room. It was just about midnight, and I knew he
was awake, so I murmured this vow, in a very low voice, 'Oh Lady Venus,
could I but kiss this lad, and he not know it, I would give him a pair of
turtle-doves tomorrow!' On hearing the price offered for this favor, the
boy commenced to snore! Then, bending over the pretending sleeper, I
snatched a fleeting kiss or two. Satisfied with this beginning, I arose
early in the morning, brought a fine pair of turtle-doves to the eager
lad, and absolved myself from my vow."
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-SIXTH.
"Next night, when the same opportunity presented itself, I changed my
petition, 'If I can feel him all over with a wanton hand,' I vowed, 'and
he not know it, I will give him two of the gamest fighting-cocks, for his
silence.' The lad nestled closer to me of his own accord, on hearing this
offer, and I truly believe that he was afraid that I was asleep. I made
short work of his apprehensions on that score, however, by stroking and
fondling his whole body. I worked myself into a passionate fervor that
was just short of supreme gratification. Then, when day dawned, I made
him happy with what I had promised him. When the third night gave me
my chance, I bent close to the ear of the rascal, who pretended to be
asleep. 'Immortal gods,' I whispered, 'if I can take full and complete
satisfaction of my love, from this sleeping beauty, I will tomorrow
present him with the best Macedonian pacer in the market, in return for
this bliss, provided that he does not know it.' Never had the lad slept
so soundly! First I filled my hands with his snowy breasts, then I
pressed a clinging kiss upon his mouth, but I finally focused all my
energies upon one supreme delight! Early in the morning, he sat up in
bed, awaiting my usual gift. It is much easier to buy doves and
game-cocks than it is to buy a pacer, as you know, and aside from that,
I was also afraid that so valuable a present might render my motive
subject to suspicion, so, after strolling around for some hours, I
returned to the house, and gave the lad nothing at all except a kiss.
He looked all around, threw his arms about my neck. 'Tell me, master,'
he cried, 'where's the pacer?' ('The difficulty of getting one fine
enough has compelled me to defer the fulfillment of my promise,' I
replied, 'but I will make it good in a few days.' The lad easily
understood the true meaning of my answer, and his countenance betrayed
his secret resentment.)"
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-SEVENTH.
"(In the meantime,) by breaking this vow, I had cut myself off from the
avenue of access which I had contrived, but I returned to the attack, all
the same, when the opportunity came. In a few days, a similar occasion
brought about the very same conditions as before, and the instant I heard
his father snoring, I began pleading with the lad to receive me again
into his good graces, that is to say, that he ought to suffer me to
satisfy myself with him, and he in turn could do whatever his own
distended member desired. He was very angry, however, and would say
nothing at all except, 'Either you go to sleep, or I'll call father!'
But no obstacle is so difficult that depravity cannot twist around it and
even while he threatened 'I'll call father,' I slipped into his bed and
took my pleasure in spite of his half-hearted resistance. Nor was he
displeased with my improper conduct for, although he complained for a
while, that he had been cheated and made a laughing-stock, and that his
companions, to whom he had bragged of his wealthy friend, had made sport
of him. 'But you'll see that I'll not be like you,' he whispered; 'do it
again, if you want to!' All misunderstandings were forgotten and I was
readmitted into the lad's good graces. Then I slipped off to sleep,
after profiting by his complaisance. But the youth, in the very flower
of maturity, and just at the best age for passive pleasure, was by no
means satisfied with only one repetition, so he roused me out of a heavy
sleep. 'Isn't there something you'd like to do?' he whispered! The
pastime had not begun to cloy, as yet, and, somehow or other, what with
panting and sweating and wriggling, he got what he wanted and, worn out
with pleasure, I dropped off to sleep again. Less than an hour had passed
when he began to punch me with his hand. 'Why are we not busy,' he
whispered! I flew into a violent rage at being disturbed so many times,
and threatened him in his own words, 'Either you go to sleep, or I'll
call father!'"
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-EIGHTH.
Heartened up by this story, I began to draw upon his more comprehensive
knowledge as to the ages of the pictures and as to certain of the stories
connected with them, upon which I was not clear; and I likewise inquired
into the causes of the decadence of the present age, in which the most
refined arts had perished, and among them painting, which had not left
even the faintest trace of itself behind. "Greed of money," he replied,
"has brought about these unaccountable changes. In the good old times,
when virtue was her own reward, the fine arts flourished, and there was
the keenest rivalry among men for fear that anything which could be of
benefit to future generations should remain long undiscovered. Then it
was that Democritus expressed the juices of all plants and spent his
whole life in experiments, in order that no curative property should lurk
unknown in stone or shrub. That he might understand the movements of
heaven and the stars, Eudoxus grew old upon the summit of a lofty
mountain: three times did Chrysippus purge his brain with hellebore,
that his faculties might be equal to invention. Turn to the sculptors if
you will; Lysippus perished from hunger while in profound meditation upon
the lines of a single statue, and Myron, who almost embodied the souls of
men and beasts in bronze, could not find an heir. And we, sodden with
wine and women, cannot even appreciate the arts already practiced, we
only criticise the past! We learn only vice, and teach it, too. What has
become of logic? of astronomy? Where is the exquisite road to wisdom?
Who even goes into a temple to make a vow, that he may achieve eloquence
or bathe in the fountain of wisdom? And they do not pray for good health
and a sound mind; before they even set foot upon the threshold of the
temple, one promises a gift if only he may bury a rich relative; another,
if he can but dig up a treasure, and still another, if he is permitted to
amass thirty millions of sesterces in safety! The Senate itself, the
exponent of all that should be right and just, is in the habit of
promising a thousand pounds of gold to the capitol, and that no one may
question the propriety of praying for money, it even decorates Jupiter
himself with spoils'. Do not hesitate, therefore, at expressing your
surprise at the deterioration of painting, since, by all the gods and men
alike, a lump of gold is held to be more beautiful than anything ever
created by those crazy little Greek fellows, Apelles and Phydias!"
CHAPTER THE EIGHTY-NINTH.
"But I see that your whole attention is held by that picture which
portrays the destruction of Troy, so I will attempt to unfold the story
in verse:
And now the tenth harvest beheld the beleaguered of Troia
Worn out with anxiety, fearing the honor of Calchas
The prophet, hung wavering deep in the blackest despair.
Apollo commanded! The forested peaks of Mount Ida
Were felled and dragged down; the hewn timbers were fitted to fashion
A war-horse. Unfilled is a cavity left, and this cavern,
Roofed over, capacious enough for a camp. Here lie hidden
The raging impetuous valor of ten years of warfare.
Malignant Greek troops pack the recess, lurk in their own offering.
Alas my poor country! We thought that their thousand grim war-ships
Were beaten and scattered, our arable lands freed from warfare!
Th' inscription cut into the horse, and the crafty behavior
Of Sinon, his mind ever powerful for evil, affirmed it.
Delivered from war, now the crowd, carefree, hastens to worship
And pours from the portals. Their cheeks wet with weeping, the joy
Of their tremulous souls brings to eyes tears which terror
Had banished. Laocoon, priest unto Neptune, with hair loosed,
An outcry evoked from the mob: he drew back his javelin
And launched it! The belly of wood was his target. The weapon
Recoiled, for the fates stayed his hand, and this artifice won us.
His feeble hand nerved he anew, and the lofty sides sounded,
His two-edged ax tried them severely. The young troops in ambush
Gasped. And as long as the reverberations re-echoed
The wooden mass breathed out a fear that was not of its own.
Imprisoned, the warriors advance to take Troia a captive
And finish the struggle by strategem new and unheard of.
Behold! Other portents: Where Tenedos steep breaks the ocean
Where great surging billows dash high; to be broken, and leap back
To form a deep hollow of calm, and resemble the plashing
Of oars, carried far through the silence of night, as when ships pass
And drive through the calm as it smashes against their fir bows.
Then backward we look towards the rocks; the tide carries two serpents
That coil and uncoil as they come, and their breasts, which are swollen
Aside dash the foam, as the bows of tall ships; and the ocean
Is lashed by their tails, their manes, free on the water, as savage
As even their eyes: now a blinding beam kindles the billows,
The sea with their hissing is sibilant! All stare in terror!
Laocoon's twin sons in Phrygian raiment are standing
With priests wreathed for sacrifice. Them did the glistening serpents
Enfold in their coils! With their little hands shielding their faces,
The boys, neither thinking of self, but each one of his brother!
Fraternal love's sacrifice! Death himself slew those poor children
By means of their unselfish fear for each other! The father,
A helper too feeble, now throws himself prone on their bodies:
The serpents, now glutted with death, coil around him and drag him
To earth! And the priest, at his altar a victim, lies beating
The ground. Thus the city of Troy, doomed to sack and destruction,
First lost her own gods by profaning their shrines and their worship.
The full moon now lifted her luminous beam and the small stars
Led forth, with her torch all ablaze; when the Greeks drew the bolts
And poured forth their warriors, on Priam's sons, buried in darkness
And sodden with wine. First the leaders made trial of their weapons