Petronius, Satyricon
Michael Heseltine, Ed.

[69] “To be sure you have forgotten some of the tricks of the vile slave. He is a Don Juan; but I will see to it that he is branded.” Trimalchio laughed and said, “Oh! I perceive he is a Cappadocian; he does not deny himself,[p. 133] and, upon my word, I admire him; for no one can send a dead man any fun. And please do not be jealous, Scintilla. Take my word for it, we know you women too. By my hope of salvation, I used to amuse my own mistress, until even the master became suspicious; and so he banished me to a country stewardship. But peace, my tongue, and you shall have some bread.” The worthless slave took a clay lamp out of his dress, as if he had been complimented, and imitated trumpeters for more than half an hour, Habinnas singing with him and pulling his lower lip down. Finally, he came right into the middle of the room, and shook a pipe of reeds in imitation of flute-players, or gave us the mule-driver's life, with a cloak and a whip, till Habinnas called him and gave him a kiss, and offered him a drink, saying, “Better than ever, Massa. I will give you a pair of boots.”

There would have been no end to our troubles if a last course had not been brought in, thrushes made of fine meal and stuffed with raisins and nuts. There followed also quinces, stuck all over with thorns to look like sea-urchins. We could have borne this, if a far more fantastic dish had not driven us even to prefer death by starvation. What we took to be a fat goose, with fish and all kinds of birds round it, was put on, and then Trimalchio said, “My friends, whatever you see here on the table is made out of one body.” With my usual intelligence, I knew at once what it was; I looked at Agamemnon and said, “I shall be surprised if the whole thing is not made out of filth, or at any rate clay. I have seen sham dinners of this kind served in Rome at the Saturnalia.” I had not finished speaking when Trimalchio said,