Trimalchio's name
was engraved and the weight of the silver. Then there were little
bridge-like structures of iron which held dormice seasoned with honey and
poppy-seed; and smoking sausages were arranged on a silver grill which
had underneath it dark Syrian plums to represent black coals, and scarlet
pomegranate seeds to represent red-hot ones.

In the midst of all this magnificence Trimalchio was brought in to the
sound of music and propped up on a pile of well-stuffed cushions. The very
sight of him almost made us laugh in spite of ourselves; for his shaven
pate was thrust out of a scarlet robe, and around his neck he had tucked a
long fringed napkin with a broad purple stripe running down the middle of
it. On the little finger of his left hand he wore a huge gilt ring, and on
the last joint of the next finger a ring that appeared to be of solid
gold, but having little iron stars upon it. Moreover, lest we should fail
to take in all his magnificence, he had bared his right arm, which was
adorned with a golden bracelet and an ivory circle fastened by a
glittering clasp.

As he sat there picking his teeth with a silver toothpick, he remarked:

"Well, friends, it was just a bit inconvenient for me to dine now; but, so
as not to delay you by my absence, I have denied myself a considerable
amount of pleasure."

While we were still eating the _hors d'oeuvres_, a tray was brought in
with a basket on which a wooden fowl was placed with its wings spread out
in a circle after the fashion of setting hens. Immediately two slaves
approached and amid a burst of music began to poke around in the straw,
and having presently discovered there some pea-hens' eggs, they
distributed them among the guests.

Trimalchio looked up during this operation and said:

"Gentlemen, I had the hens' eggs placed under this fowl; but I'm rather
afraid they have young chickens in them. Let's see whether they're still
fit to suck."

So we took our spoons, which weighed not less than half a pound each, and
broke the egg-shells, which were made of flour paste. As I did so, I was
almost tempted to throw my egg on the floor, for it looked as though a
chicken had just been formed inside; but when I heard an old diner-out by
my side saying:

"There's bound to be something good here," I thrust my finger through the
shell and drew out a plump reed-bird, surrounded by yolk of egg, well
seasoned with pepper.

I was unable to eat another mouthful; and so