The dainties that followed this display of affability were of such a
nature that, if any reliance is to be placed in my word, the very mention
of them makes me sick at the stomach. Instead of thrushes, fattened
chickens were served, one to each of us, and goose eggs with pastry caps
on them, which same Trimalchio earnestly entreated us to eat, informing
us that the chickens had all been boned. Just at that instant, however,
a lictor knocked at the dining-room door, and a reveler, clad in white
vestments, entered, followed by a large retinue. Startled at such pomp,
I thought that the Praetor had arrived, so I put my bare feet upon the
floor and started to get up, but Agamemnon laughed at my anxiety and
said, "Keep your seat, you idiot, it's only Habinnas the sevir; he's a
stone mason, and if report speaks true, he makes the finest tombstones
imaginable." Reassured by this information, I lay back upon my couch and
watched Habinnas' entrance with great curiosity. Already drunk and
wearing several wreaths, his forehead smeared with perfume which ran down
into his eyes, he advanced with his hands upon his wife's shoulders, and,
seating himself in the Praetor's place, he called for wine and hot water.
Delighted with his good humor, Trimalchio called for a larger goblet for
himself, and asked him, at the same time, how he had been entertained.
"We had everything except yourself, for my heart and soul were here, but
it was fine, it was, by Hercules. Scissa was giving a Novendial feast
for her slave, whom she freed on his death-bed, and it's my opinion
she'll have a large sum to split with the tax gatherers, for the dead man
was rated at 50,000, but everything went off well, even if we did have to
pour half our wine on the bones of the late lamented."