the melted liquid into the lamps. Fortunata had, by this
time, taken a notion that she wanted to dance, and Scintilla was doing
more hand-clapping than talking, when Trimalchio called out,
"Philargyrus, and you too, Carrio, you can both come to the table;
even if you are green faction fans, and tell your bedfellow, Menophila,
to come too." What would you think happened then? We were nearly
crowded off the couches by the mob of slaves that crowded into the
dining-room and almost filled it full. As a matter of fact, I noticed
that our friend the cook, who had made a goose out of a hog, was placed
next to me, and he stunk from sauces and pickle. Not satisfied with a
place at the table, he immediately staged an impersonation of Ephesus the
tragedian, and then he suddenly offered to bet his master that the greens
would take first place in the next circus games.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTY-FIRST.

Trimalchio was hugely tickled at this challenge. "Slaves are men, my
friends," he observed, "but that's not all, they sucked the same milk
that we did, even if hard luck has kept them down; and they'll drink the
water of freedom if I live: to make a long story short, I'm freeing all
of them in my will. To Philargyrus, I'm leaving a farm, and his
bedfellow, too. Carrio will get a tenement house and his twentieth,
and a bed and bedclothes to boot. I'm making Fortunata my heir and I
commend her to all my friends. I announce all this in public so that my
household will love me as well now as they will when I'm dead." They all
commenced to pay tribute to the generosity of their master, when he,
putting aside his trifling, ordered a copy of his will brought in, which
same he read aloud from beginning to end, to the groaning accompaniment
of the whole household. Then, looking at Habinnas, "What say you, my
dearest friend," he entreated; "you'll construct my monument in keeping
with the plans I've given you, won't you? I earnestly beg that you carve
a little bitch at the feet of my statue, some wreaths and some jars of
perfume, and all of the fights of Petraites. Then I'll be able to live
even after I'm dead, thanks to your kindness. See to it that it has a
frontage of one hundred feet and a depth of two hundred. I want fruit
trees of every kind planted around my ashes; and plenty of vines, too,
for it's all wrong for a man to deck out his house when he's alive, and
then have no pains taken with the one he must stay in for a