The Satyricon — Complete by Petronius Arbiter (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📕

all irritation from his mind, and leave no trace of it behind. The snows belong upon the ground in wild and uncultivated regions, but where the earth has been beautified by the conquest of the plough, the light snow melts away while you speak of it. And so it is with anger in the heart; in savage minds it lingers long, it glides quickly away from the cultured. “That you may experience the truth of what you say,” exclaimed Eumolpus, “see! I end my anger with a kiss. May good luck go with us! Get your baggage together and follow me, or go on ahead, if you prefer.” While he was speaking, a knock sounded at the door, and a sailor with a bristling beard stood upon the threshold. “You’re hanging in the wind, Eumolpus,” said he, “as if you didn’t know that son-of-a-bitch of a skipper!” Without further delay we all got up. Eumolpus ordered his servant, who had been asleep for some time, to bring his baggage out. Giton and I pack together whatever we have for the voyage and, after praying to the stars, we went aboard.







CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDREDTH.

(We picked out a retired spot on the poop and Eumolpus dozed off, as it was not yet daylight. Neither Giton nor myself could get a wink of sleep, however. Anxiously I reflected that I had received Eumolpus as a comrade, a rival more formidable than Ascyltos, and that thought tortured me. But reason soon put my uneasiness to flight.) “It is unfortunate,” (said I to myself,) “that the lad has so taken our friend’s fancy, but what of it? Is not nature’s every masterpiece common to all? The sun shines upon all alike! The moon with her innumerable train of stars lights even the wild beasts to their food. What can be more beautiful than water?

“Yet it flows for common use. Shall love alone, then, be stolen, rather than be regarded as a prize to be won? No, indeed I desire no possession unless the world envies me for possessing it. A solitary old man can scarcely become a serious rival; even should he wish to take advantage, he would lose it through lack of breath.” When, but without any confidence, I had arrived at these conclusions, and beguiled my uneasy spirit, I covered my head with my tunic and began to feign sleep, when all of a sudden, as though Fortune were bent upon annihilating my peace of mind, a voice upon the ship’s deck gritted out something like this--“So he fooled me after all."--As this voice, which was a man’s, and was only too familiar, struck my ears, my heart fluttered. And then a woman, equally furious, spat out more spitefully still--“If only some god would put Giton into my hands, what a fine time I would give that runaway.” --Stunned by these unexpected words, we both turned pale as death. I was completely terrified, and, as though I were enveloped in some turbulent nightmare, was a long time finding my voice, but at last, with trembling hands, I tugged at the hem of Eumolpus’ clothing, just as he was sinking into slumber. “Father,” I quavered, “on your word of honor, can you tell me whose ship this is, and whom she has aboard?” Peeved at being disturbed, “So,” he snapped, “this was the reason you wished to have us quartered in the most inaccessible spot on deck, was it? So we could get no rest! What good will it do you when I’ve informed you that Lycas of Tarentum is master of this ship and that he carries Tryphaena as an exile to Tarentum?”

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND FIRST.

I shivered, horror-struck, at this thunderbolt and, beating my throat, “Oh Destiny,” I wailed, “you’ve vanquished me completely, at last!” As for Giton, he fell in a faint upon my bosom and remained unconscious for quite a while, until a sweat finally relieved our tension, whereupon, hugging Eumolpus around the knees, “Take pity upon the perishing,” I besought him, “in the name of our common learning, aid us! Death himself hangs over us, and he will come as a relief unless you help us!” Overwhelmed by this implication, Eumolpus swore by all the gods and goddesses that he knew nothing of what had happened, nor had he had any ulterior purpose in mind, but that he had brought his companions upon this voyage which he himself had long intended taking, with the most upright intentions and in the best of good faith. “But,” demanded he, “what is this ambush? Who is this Hannibal who sails with us? Lycas of Tarentum is a most respectable citizen and the owner, not only of this ship, which he commands in person, but of landed estates as well as commercial houses under the management of slaves. He carries a cargo consigned to market. He is the Cyclops, the arch-pirate, to whom we owe our passage! And then, besides himself, there is Tryphaena, a most charming woman, travelling about here and there in search of pleasure.” “But,” objected Giton, “they are the very ones we are most anxious to avoid,” whereupon he explained to the astonished Eumolpus the reasons for their enmity and for the danger which threatened us. So muddled did he become, at what had been told him, that he lost the power of thinking, and requested each of us to offer his own opinion. “Just imagine,” said he, “that we are trapped in the Cyclops’ cave: some way out must be found, unless we bring about a shipwreck, and free ourselves from all dangers!” “Bribe the pilot, if necessary, and persuade him to steer the ship into some port,” volunteered Giton; “tell him your brother’s nearly dead from seasickness: your woebegone face and streaming tears will lend color to your deception, and the pilot may be moved to mercy and grant your prayer.” Eumolpus denied the practicability of this. “It is only with difficulty,” affirmed he, “that large ships are warped into landlocked harbors, nor would it appear probable that my brother could have been taken so desperately in so short a time. And then, Lycas will be sure to want to visit a sick passenger, as part of his duties! You can see for yourselves what a fine stroke it would be, bringing the captain to his own runaways! But, supposing that the ship could be put off her course, supposing that Lycas did not hold sick-call, how could we leave the ship in such a manner as not to be stared at by all the rest? With muffled heads? With bare? If muffled, who would not want to lend the sick man a hand? If bare, what would it mean if not proscribing ourselves?”

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND SECOND.

“Why would it not be better to take refuge in boldness,” I asked, “slide down a rope into the ship’s boat, cut the painter, and leave the rest to luck’? And furthermore, I would not involve Eumolpus in this adventure, for what is the good of getting an innocent man into troubles with which he has no concern? I shall be well content if chance helps us into the boat.” “Not a bad scheme,” Eumolpus agreed, “if it could only be carried out: but who could help seeing you when you start? Especially the man at the helm, who stands watch all night long and observes even the motions of the stars. But it could be done in spite of that, when he dozed off for a second, that is, if you chose some other part of the ship from which to start: as it is, it must be the stern, you must even slip down the rudder itself, for that is where the painter that holds the boat in tow is made fast. And there is still something else, Encolpius. I am surprised that it has not occurred to you that one sailor is on watch, lying in the boat, night and day. You couldn’t get rid