American library books ยป Fiction ยป The Satyricon โ€” Complete by Petronius Arbiter (little red riding hood read aloud txt) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซThe Satyricon โ€” Complete by Petronius Arbiter (little red riding hood read aloud txt) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Petronius Arbiter



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That which I might have done before
โ€˜Twas now impossible to do;
For, cold with Fear, the wretch withdrew
Into a thousand-wrinkled mare,
And shrank in shame before my gaze
Nor would his head uncover more.
But though the scamp in terror skulked,
With words I flayed him as he sulked.

Raising myself upon my elbow I rebuked the shirker in some such terms as these: โ€œWhat have you to say for yourself, you disgrace to gods and men,โ€ I demanded, โ€œfor your name must never be mentioned among refined people. Did I deserve to be lifted up to heaven and then dragged down to hell by you? Was it right for you to slander my flourishing and vigorous years and land me in the shadows and lassitude of decrepit old age? Give me some sign, however faint, I beg of you, that you have returned to life!โ€ I vented my anger in words such as these.


His eyes were fixed, and with averted look
He stood, less moved by any word of mine
Than weeping willows bending oโ€™er a brook
Or drooping poppies as at noon they pine.

When I had made an end of this invective, so out of keeping with good taste, I began to do penance for my soliloquy and blushed furtively because I had so far forgotten my modesty as to invoke in words that part of my body which men of dignity do not even recognize. Then, rubbing my forehead for a long time, โ€œWhy have I committed an indiscretion in relieving my resentment by natural abuse,โ€ I mused, โ€œwhat does it amount to? Are we not accustomed to swear at every member of the human body, the belly, throat, or even the head when it aches, as it often does? Did not Ulysses wrangle with his own heart? Do not the tragedians โ€˜Damn their eyesโ€™ just as if they could hear?

โ€œGouty patients swear at their feet, rheumatics at their hands, blear-eyed people at their eyes, and do not those who often stub their toes blame their feet for all their pain?


โ€œWhy will our Catos with their frowning brows
Condemn a work of fresh simplicityโ€™?
A cheerful kindness my pure speech endows;
What people do, I write, to my capacity.
For who knows not the pleasures Venus gives?
Who will not in a warm bed tease his members?
Great Epicurus taught a truth that lives;
Love and enjoy life! All the rest is embers.

โ€œNothing can be more insincere than the silly prejudices of mankind, and nothing sillier than the morality of bigotry,โ€







CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-THIRD.


I called Giton when I had finished my meditation: โ€œTell me, little brother,โ€ I demanded, โ€œtell me, on your honor: Did Ascyltos stay awake until he had exacted his will of you, the night he stole you away from me? Or was he content to spend the night like a chaste widow?โ€ Wiping his eyes the lad, in carefully chosen words took oath that Ascyltos had used no force against him. (The truth of the matter is, that I was so distraught with my own misfortunes that I knew not what I was saying. โ€œWhy recall past memories which can only cause pain,โ€ said I to myself. I then directed all my energies towards the recovery of my lost manhood. To achieve this I was ready even to devote myself to the gods; accordingly, I went out to invoke the aid of Priapus.) {Putting as good a face upon the matter as I could} I knelt upon the threshold of his shrine and invoked the God in the following verses:


โ€œOf Bacchus and the nymphs, companion boon,
Whom fair Dione set oโ€™er forests wide
As God: whom Lesbos and green Thasos own
For deity, whom Lydians, far and wide
Adore through all the seasons of the year;
Whose temple in his own Hypaepa placed,
Thou Dryadโ€™s joy and Bacchusโ€™, hear my prayer!
To thee I come, by no dark blood disgraced,
No shrine, in wicked lust have I profaned;
When I was poor and worn with want, I sinned
Not by intent, a pauperโ€™s sinโ€™s not banned
As of another! Unto thee I pray
Lift thou the load from off my tortured mind,
Forgive a light offense! When fortune smiles
Iโ€™ll not thy glory shun and leave behind
Thy worship! Unto thee, a goat that feels
His primest vigor, father of the flocks
Shall come! And suckling pigs, the tender young
Of some fine grunting sow! New wine, in crocks
Shall foam! Thy grateful praises shall be sung
By youths who thrice shall dance around thy shrine
Happy, in youth and full of this yearโ€™s wine!โ€

While I was engaged in this diplomatic effort in behalf of the affected member, a hideous crone with disheveled hair, and clad in black garments which were in great: disorder, entered the shrine and, laying hands upon me, led me {thoroughly frightened,} out into the portico.







CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FOURTH.


โ€œWhat witchesโ€ (she cried,) โ€œhave devoured your manhood? What filth did you tread upon at some crossroads, in the dark? Not even by the boy could you do your duty but, weak and effeminate, you are worn out like a cart-horse at a hill, you have lost both labor and sweat! Not content with getting yourself into trouble, you have stirred up the wrath of the gods against me {and I will make you smart for it.โ€} She then led me, unresisting, back into the priestessโ€™s room, pushed me down upon the bed, snatched a cane that hung upon the door, and gave me another thrashing: I remained silent and, had the cane not splintered at the first stroke, thereby diminishing the force of the blow, she might easily have broken my arms or my head. I groaned dismally, and especially when she manipulated my member and, shedding a flood of tears, I covered my head with my right arm and huddled down upon the pillow. Nor did she weep less bitterly:


The sailor, naked from his foundered barque,
Some shipwrecked mariner seeks out to hear his woe;
When hail beats down a farmerโ€™s crop, his cark
Seeks consolation from another, too.
Death levels caste and sufferers unites,
And weeping parents are as one in grief;
We also will beseech the starry heights,
United prayers climb best, is the belief.

She seated herself upon the other side of the bed and in quavering tones commenced to accuse the delays of old age. At last the priestess came in. โ€œWhy,โ€ she cried, โ€œwhat has brought you into my cell as if you were visiting a

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