Satyricon, vol 2, Trimalchio | Page 3

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