Freely Adapted From the Novel by PETRONIUS ARBITER
The earth has not dragged me down into the abyss,
nor has the sea engulfed me with its raging storms.
I fled from the law and escaped the arena.
I've even stained my hands with blood,
only to end up here, destitute,
exiled from my country, abandoned!
And who condemned me to this solitude?
He who bears the mark of every known vice,
who by his own admission should be banished - Ascyltus!
He won his freedom through whoring and keeps it the same way.
He gambled away his youth.
He sold himself as a woman, even when approached as a man.
And that shameless Giton?
On the Day of the Virile Toga he wore a woman's stole.
His mother had already convinced him not to act like a man.
In jail he was a whore,
capable of forsaking the oldest of friendships.
Shame on him!
He's a disgrace!
And now, wrapped in each other's arms,
they spend entire nights together...
and laugh at me.
But it won't end here, I swear!
I loved you, Giton, and I still do.
I can't share you with others, because you're a part of me.
You are me, you are my soul.
My soul belongs to you.
You're the sun, the sea, the gods.
That smug Ascyltus has made off with his prey.
I must find you no matter what,
or I'm no longer a man!
Ascyltus!
Encolpius is looking for me. He seeks revenge.
I took his little friend away with a conniving trick.
Well, that back-alley murderer deserved to be tricked.
Like a bird of prey, he carries off anything shiny.
While he slept, drunk with wine,
I stole Giton out from under him,
and we spent the sweetest of nights together.
Friendship lasts as long as it's convenient.
That's how I see it.
At first the boy tried to deny me his flower.
Perhaps he wished to sleep.
But I drew my sword and told him,
“lf you're Lucretia, you've found your Tarquin!”
Today a famous actor - famous for this! -
offered to buy him,
so I gave up my little slave.
Then, as I wandered the city,
an upstanding older gentleman approached me
and brought me here to the baths.
In a dark corner he began fondling me and wouldn't stop!
But I see Encolpius coming, livid with anger.
I must defend myself or flee.
Looking for me, Encolpius? Here I am.
Where's Giton?
Where is Giton?
I'll kill you, you whore! - I sold him.
- Where is he? - I sold him to Vernacchio, the actor.
Applaud, applaud.
And with this I punish my offending arm.
Who is more fortunate
than we who can witness our divine Caesar's new miracle?
Come!
Caesar, with his great soul...
and Eros, with his thousand charms, came down to Earth.
Vernacchio...
I denounce you before all. You must stop your performance.
Oh, we have a new master!
That boy is mine. You must give him back to me.
Are you a cavalier? A senator?
Come up, handsome youth. All are welcome in my house.
Come!
Wait.
First I want you to meet my family
and my slaves.
Watch out for the dog!
Giton, come quickly.
But he's beautiful, and meaty too!
He cost me 35 denarii.
A suckling pig of the same weight would cost more.
Listen, Vernacchio.
I know you're a famous actor,
and I've just seen proof of your many talents,
but I repeat: The boy is mine.
That bastard who sold him to you had no right to do so.
So do not appeal to the law. It's useless.
Giton's coming with me.
I'll buy the boy for 40 sesterces.
I'll make it 45.
For 60 I'll buy the boy.
Sir, this boy is better than a wife,
and what freeman would sell his wife?
He's tidy, he's wise.
I always come home to a lighted fire.
I've trained him in the great art of the stage.
You'll see how well he'll play female roles:
Helen of Menelaus, faithful Penelope, Cornelia.
Such a treasure has no price.
I'll give you what you paid for him and no more.
Giton's leaving with me.
That's enough!
Vernacchio, your behavior has grown intolerable.
We already took away your benches for jesting about Caesar,
yet you continue to stir up trouble?
Let the young man have his slave back,
or tomorrow I'll burn down your theater.
It's not true -
Be careful, Vernacchio. We're tired of your arrogance.
Have pity, sir. Don't destroy my theater, I beg you!
Vernacchio is meek and obedient.
Caesar knows that.
Look who's over there.
Calpurnia, where shall we stay?
Where else? Here, my beautiful boys.
There he is.
Come, let's visit the little sisters. Come!
Come here!
You've chosen an auspicious day.
You wanted a fertile bride?
This liver's reddish-brown color
indicates that this woman is pregnant.
Hold on, Blue Eyes. Have you heard of me?
Everywhere! You're very famous!
Giton!
Well, well, my honorable brother...
what's this?
One blanket for the two of you?
Ascyltus, there's little chance of us being friends again,
so let's divide up our shared property
and go our separate ways.
We're both students of literature,
yet we've become the laughingstock of the whole city.
Why did you run off today while our teacher was speaking?
What else could I do? I was starving.
I'll go my own way so as not to compete with you.
Fine! Let's divide up our stuff.
That's mine, and so is this.
The mirror's mine.
That's mine!
And now let's divide up the boy.
- You must be joking. - We'll let him decide.
You.
Ganymede...
Narcissus...
Apollo, who turned the young man's shadow into a flower.
All the myths speak to us of love...
of unrivaled unions.
But I took into my heart a cruel guest.
I'm a poet.
You might ask, “Why are you dressed so poorly?”
That's precisely why.
A passion for art never made anyone rich.
I don't know why, but poverty is always a sister to genius.
My name is Eumolpus.
The masterpieces in this gallery reveal our current malaise.
No one can paint like this today.
What brought on this sorry state?
Lust for money!
Once upon a time...
man's ideal was virtue pure and simple.
That's why the liberal arts flourished.
Eudoxus grew old studying the stars from a mountaintop.
Lysippus drew the same model his whole life...
and starved to death.
But we, with our drinking and whoring around,
don't even recognize the masterpieces before our eyes.
Where is dialectics now? What happened to astronomy?
Where is philosophy, which once showed us the way?
Don't be surprised that the art of painting is dead
when we find more beauty today in a pot of gold
than in the works of Apelles or Phidias -
those crazy Greeks!
His land provides everything:
wool, lemon, peppers.
You want hen's milk? He'll have it. And what was he before?
Believe me, you'd never have accepted a piece of bread from his hands.
Now he's so rich, he himself doesn't know how much he has.
And he thinks he's a poet!
There isn't a drop of poetry in his verses.
And you know what this bastard calls me?
“Colleague,” “brother,” “soul mate,” he says.
I have the best seat at his table.
I drink his own wine, not that served to other guests.
As a Roman citizen you've escaped torture,
but you won't escape a beating from my slaves!
Your mouth is a cesspool!
You'll be flogged! I'll see they break your back, you dog!
I broke your pimp son's back!
I'll have you thrown you in jail!
You should be hanged!
It doesn't matter. Even Venus was cross-eyed.
Ah, Eumolpus, you're here too.
My brother, your presence fills me with emotion...
because you're like me...
- You're too kind. - ...a man of talent.
We poets know true friendship. - Who are you two?
You must do the wine the honor of trying it.
Fish must swim,
but thanks to the gods, I needn't buy a thing.
All these mouthwatering delights
come from some estate of mine
that I'm told extends from Tarracina to Tarentum.
I'll have to buy up all of Sicily,
because I want to travel to Africa.
That way, whether by foot, horseback, or sea,
I'd never leave my own property,
like “ever wandering Ulysses.”
Do you like the reference?
The classics are always suitable, even at the table.
This is the first beard I shaved off.
I was already a man at 14.
And these are my household gods,
protectors of my property.
Good Business, Good Fortune, and Good Profit...
may it please the gods.
- What division are you from? - The 40th.
Born here, or did I buy you?
Neither. Pansa left me to you in his will.
Roast that big one,
and roast it well, or I'll transfer you to sweeping.
“A poor man and a rich man were fighting once -”
What's a poor man?
That's a good one!
I'm going to the pot.
Day is fading, and in the blink of an eye, it's night.
Nothing better than rolling out of bed straight to the dinner table.
It's been so cold that a bath hardly warms me up.
Ah, we're less than flies.
They at least know how to survive, while we are but bubbles.
“Here today, gone tomorrow,” said the farmer who'd lost his speckled pig.
Lead turned to gold in his hands. His hair was blacker than a crow.
He was over 70 and still going at it.
Even the dog wasn't safe around him.
What? Roasted already?
You didn't even gut it?
You present it to me like this? Call in the cook!
You roasted it whole, without gutting it?
- Mercy, master! - Tie him up and whip him!
I made a mistake. Have mercy on me!
Pardon him!
What are you waiting for, you wretch?
Gut it here, now!
How wonderful!
Thrushes, fatted hens, bird gizzards!
Sausage garlands,
tender plucked doves!
Snails, livers, ham, and offal!
Hail Trimalchio!
What's so funny, silly man?
You don't appreciate my master's extravagances? Are you wealthier?
Do you give better banquets?
Blockhead, scoundrel, tramp! You dare laugh?
Are you a cavalier? Then I'm the emperor's son!
Did Papa buy you a goat?
I laughed because it's funny.
You're not worth your own piss, and you stink!
Did you buy your freedom? I'm a freeman.
I feed 20 mouths and a dog. I bought my wife's freedom.
No one can fondle her tits now! But what are you?
- Answer and you'll only - - You're a fart in the water!
Enough blathering, Hermeros. Show some patience.
The boy's young, and his blood is hot.
When you were a young cock,
you crowed too.
Give us some Homer!
I like to hear Greek while I eat.
Eumolpus, my brother poet, did you understand the story?
Diomedes and Ganymede were brothers.
Helen was their sister.
Agamemnon abducted her, and Ajax went mad.
Eumolpus, come sit down and empty a few more cups.
Mangy dogs!
Race of slaves!
You've never paid a twentieth of your ransom!
Sewer whores! Ass lickers! Shit eaters!
Eumolpus, console yourself.
It's hard going for men of letters like us.
Listen to a few verses I wrote:
“What you least expect is often what you get.
But Fortune waits above to care for us with love.
So take your fill and drink at will!”
A new Horace!
There's a new Horace in our midst.
Go on, dance!
Don't make me angry! Dance!
“On July 26th, on Trimalchio's estate at Cumae,
30 boys and 40 girls were born.
That same day, the slave Eusebio was crucified for insulting our master.
Thirty-six calves were born.
That same day, fire broke out in Trimalchio's Pompeian gardens -”
What? When did I buy gardens in Pompeii?
Wine and hot water!
Sorry we're late. We were at a wake at Scissa's house.
One of his slaves died, and half our wine
had to be poured over the poor boy's bones.
Only you were missing.
Blood pudding, giblets, Spanish pastry, a snail apiece,
and for the main course, bear with duck eggs.
My wife ate so much of that dish
that she threw up.
If bears can eat people, why shouldn't people -
What's going on here?
I'l split your head open!
Just see if I don't cut your ears off when we get home.
How does that sound, haruspex?
The sound is clearer...
a sign of change.
Are you expecting anyone this weekend?
Try again.
I'm happy for you. That sounds good.
This well-behaved lad brings joy to my life
and fills me with satisfaction.
Come. Don't you want to sit with your old uncle?
Have you ever seen such a sweet little creature?
And before my very eyes!
You dunghill of a woman!
I bought you at the slave market, made you a human being!
What are you talking about?
Habinnas, remove her statue from my mausoleum
or we'll still be bickering when we're dead.
Tramp!
Ugly witch - take that!
Harpy!
I built her a palace, and listen to her!
You've grown fat as a puffed-up frog!
Well, I'll make you bite your tongue!
I love the boy because he's clever, not because he's pretty.
He can already divide by ten and read a book on first sight,
and he's already bought a chair for himself.
You still crying, you hag?
Just remember you owe this life of luxury to me.
I endured my master's advances for 14 years.
What of it? A master gives the orders.
But I kept the mistress happy too.
By the will of the gods, I was named heir - along with Caesar, of course.
I built five ships and loaded them with lard, perfume, and slaves.
That started off my fortune. Everything I touch turns to gold.
I was a cockroach, now I'm a king. That's life.
Stichus, prepare my burial vestments and ointment,
and bring the wine I chose for washing my bones.
Life passes like a shadow.
Sooner or later we'll all end up like this.
I just thought of a poem.
Listen.
“On the stage a troupe performs a mime.
One actor plays the father,
another the son, a third the rich man.
But when the play is over, the pretend faces vanish,
and the real ones return.”
What do you think of my verse, poet?
To tell you the truth, you stole that from Lucretius.
What's that?
“The pretend faces vanish,
and the real ones return!”
That's Lucretius!
Enough! I wrote that, you beggar!
I'm the poet, not you!
You don't write verses - you steal them!
Throw him in the ovens! The wretch! I fed you!
I pulled you out of the gutter!
In my house I'm the poet!
Into the ovens with this ingrate!
I'll put you to shame in front of everyone.
Get that dog out of my sight!
The venomous snake! He's bad luck!
I'm a philosopher!
Buffoon! Thief! Let me go!
Only an emperor or two has had a mausoleum comparable to mine.
Habinnas is creating a work of art.
It will all be covered in marble,
with a pediment over 120 feet high.
On the walls, Trimalchio's entire life,
with his ships, sails unfurled, and his favorite puppy dog.
Listen to his epitaph:
“Here lies Gaius Pompeius Trimalchio,
pious and loyal, a self-made man who rose from nothing.
He left 30 million sesterces and never listened to a philosopher.
May it be the same for you.”
Imagine you're guests at my funeral banquet.
Eat, drink, and remember me.
Call the musicians to play beautiful music.
Farewell.
There... I'm dead.
Gaius Pompeius Trimalchio Maecenatianus.
Such a great man is now dead!
I've lost my dearest friend!
Why didn't I die with him?
I want to give you a gift:
this bracelet of solid gold.
Look what he gave me! it's gold!
Look, he gave me this.
Me too! You forgot me!
Please give me the earrings!
No more presents!
Guards, throw them out!
No one's ever been able to tell us what the realm of the dead is like,
whereas we all know
how we like to linger in the land of the living.
Who doesn't know the story of the young lady of Ephesus?
A beautiful and virtuous young woman
was once suddenly left a widow.
When, per Greek custom,
her husband's body was laid in the crypt,
the honest and faithful widow wouldn't leave his side.
Night and day she kept vigil and wept,
intending to starve herself to death.
All the others left while she remained there alone.
Not far from the tomb,
a thief sentenced to death had been hanged,
and keeping guard over him was a handsome soldier.
Why do you wish to starve yourself to death?
What good is burying yourself alive?
Drink something.
Come. Drink.
You must live
and enjoy the delights life offers while you can.
This very corpse should convince you of that.
Be brave. Drink.
They've stolen the hanged man!
His family made off with the body while I was here with you.
I know the punishment I'll receive: a horrible death.
I shall not wait for it. I'd rather die by my own hand.
No, my sweet.
To lose the two men in my life in quick succession would be too much.
Better to hang a dead husband
than lose a living lover.
“Better to hang a dead husband
than lose a living lover.”
The poets are dying, Encolpius.
But no matter. Poetry remains.
My brother, my only companion in my final moments,
you can say, “I knew Eumolpus, the poet.”
What can I say?
If I were as rich as Trimalchio,
I'd leave you an estate or a ship.
But I can only leave you what I myself had.
I leave you poetry. I leave you the seasons,
especially spring and summer.
I leave you the wind, the sun,
and the sea, the good sea.
The earth is good too.
The mountains, streams, and rivers,
and the great clouds that float by,
so solemn and light.
You'll look at them
and perhaps remember our brief friendship.
I leave you the trees
and the nimble creatures therein.
I leave you love, tears, joy, and the stars.
Sounds, songs, noises,
the voice of man,
which is the most harmonious of music.
I leave you...
You are ever there before my eyes, Giton,
my unworthy weakness.
I still love you, even if you've abandoned me.
Won't you say something?
You left me for another love.
Did I deserve this offense?
My fellow prisoners informed me we'd been captured
by the terrible Lichas of Tarentum.
With his friend Tlyphaena he combed the seas for precious objects
to brighten Caesar's lonely existence on an island.
We all were destined to serve as the objects
of the cruel emperor's pastimes.
Misfortune has befallen me once again...
so close to, yet still separated from, the boy I love so much.
I like your tunic.
Let me try it on.
Give it to me!
He's so beautiful.
Spare him.
Oh, sweet fawn...
come closer.
Come to me. That's it.
Your young body.
Oh, yes, so smooth.
Oh, your eyes.
Of all the treasures I take to Caesar,
this most precious of all he will not have.
The color of this blood brings us great joy.
The gods are favorable to this union.
Lichas, take your groom's hand.
Remember that you must be faithful to him forever.
And you, bridegroom, must forget
your past taste for young boys.
A husband must put that aside.
You must dedicate
your whole being to your bride forever.
May complete harmony and great happiness be yours.
Venus smiles upon marriages held at sea.
Speak the ritual words.
And the god appeared to him, saying these words:
“lf you wish to share an equal fate,
you'll live half your life underground
and half in heaven's golden dwellings.”
But our good fortune didn't last long.
We were nearing that fateful day of the June calends.
Off the island of Taunia, Caesar's favorite residence,
armed vessels
appeared one morning.
The tyrant is dead!
This innocent young lamb is coming with us.
What's going on here?
This ship is no longer yours, Lichas.
Caesar is dead. The new caesar is on his way.
We drowned your emperor like a pig.
Treacherous dogs!
I want this man...
and this boy...
and this man to be free.
And you...
and this child...
and all of you are set free.
Thank you, master.
Calidia... Tiria... go on.
The confiscation decree will arrive tomorrow,
but we'll no longer be here.
My earth... sacred earth.
The gods be with you on your journey.
Farewell, master.
They say where we're going is prettier than here,
but I won't believe it unless you say so. Is it true?
Come embrace me.
Remember the woods you liked so much?
You'll pass right through it.
- Tomorrow? - Of course.
You're so pale.
Have some wine, and pour me some too.
Don't do it.
I know you will anyway, but I implore you not to.
The seasons aren't what they used to be.
Once, in Africa...
a lion came into my tent.
He sniffed around like a dog...
and then left.
The children didn't want to eat before they left,
but they finally had some fruit.
The road is safe.
They'll be there before nightfall...
safe and sound.
The owners' ancestors.
By Hercules, so many guardians!
Encolpius!
In the slave quarters.
Who's crying?
Who's in here?
Ascyltus!
Of course.
Where did she run off to?
What did the poet used to say?
“As for me, I have always and everywhere lived
so as to enjoy the present moment
as if it were the last sunrise.”
It's good!
I felt exhausted, like an old horse going uphill.
- Cider! - How about you?
Mechin says...
our mistress...
very sick, unhappy.
She need man all time.
She more hungry than starving she-wolf.
Husband desperate.
But what can he do?
She need men... always new.
Mechin say you good for mistress.
Oh, make her happy.
Husband generous... make you gifts.
My mistress.
My lovely mistress.
Tomorrow...
we take mistress see oracle.
You know Hermaphrodite, child of gods?
He little girl, but boy too.
He make magic. People with plague cured.
He foretell our future.
Up there in old temple of Ceres.
One time city bad to him.
He make city chicken coop.
People all hens.
He can cure my mistress.
You want to go? Master good, make you gifts. Go.
Child of Aphrodite and Hermes - Hermaphrodite.
I beg you, demigod. He's my only child.
Don't let him die.
The poor thing's so ill that I couldn't bring him earlier.
But you can save him.
Make a gesture. Give me a sign.
Your son is saved. You can go.
Demigod.
The son of Mercury and Venus -
and the old man keeps him for himself!
Chickens, lambs, pigs.
Why such fortune for him alone?
It's not right that he alone enjoy it all.
Pay homage to the unfortunate hero of the battle of Quadragesimo.
Favorite of the gods.
They're asleep.
Now.
The old man.
Let's go down that way.
Let's try that way.
He's not well. His mouth's dried up.
Give him something to drink,
and something to eat too.
Ascyltus...
it's almost empty.
Let's get going.
It's the sun. It's killing him.
There's no more water,
not even a drop.
Demigod...
what's wrong?
He's dead!
You let him die.
You two let him die!
I'll kill you!
I'll kill you both!
Ascyltus!
Come.
Fire.
Glove.
You kill Minotaur... Ariadne await.
Love!
Encolpius...
Who are you?
Tell me! Who are you?
Where are you hiding?
Come out!
Tell me who you are!
You should be fighting a gladiator! I'm just a student!
Don't vent your rage on me! Spare me!
I don't understand why they're playing this joke on me.
I'm not fit for this fight. I'm not a Theseus, worthy of you.
Dear Minotaur...
I'll love you if you'll spare my life.
I beg you, have pity on Encolpius.
You seem to know me, so forgive my incompetence.
Proconsul, did you hear that? This is not cowardice.
It's the sensible speech of an educated youth.
I refuse to kill him. You must judge and sentence him.
For my part...
today marks the beginning of a new friendship.
You're a learned young man - a poet, they tell me.
Of course, you showed little skill in fighting.
You'll show more with a pen -
at least I hope.
But don't be offended by our laughter, stranger.
The feast of the god Mirth begins today,
and we all know it can't start well
if we don't play a joke on a foreigner.
And it was a good joke, wasn't it?
But that beautiful woman is no joke. She is real.
You have earned her.
Now go face Ariadne.
Show you can at least handle her!
Go on. Make her happy.
What's this? You're a dead fish!
Wait, be kind. Don't get angry.
You'll see. I'll manage.
What are you doing? You're disgusting!
You'll bring us all bad luck. - Let me try again.
Let go of me!
You squashed worm!
It's the sun!
Ascyltus...
my sword is blunted!
Look.
There's a friend of yours.
Luxury, riches, beautiful women,
sumptuous banquets
till the cock crows,
sweet pleasures to befuddle the heart and mind,
every vice welcomed and never turned away -
all these delights have corrupted me...
and this is the result.
But though you don't have a penny,
you're crippled in a way too, my friend.
I saw you. You were like a drowned mouse atop a cow.
And not a bad cow either.
All meat.
Enough drinking.
What happened? Priapus is clearly angry with you.
He's a spiteful god.
He makes you hard as wood, then soft as dough.
But there are remedies.
Your Eumolpus will find a cure.
I'm powerful here. No doors are closed to me.
Eros protects me and always shows his friendship.
Swindling and trafficking have made me master of the city.
If I wish to give a dance, it's done in a flash.
First I'll take you to the Garden of Delights.
So many positions...
and they're sure to invent more.
Man makes daily progress.
I believe I've tried them all,
although with age I've forgotten a few.
No one remembers all the love they've given and received,
not even the young.
You, for example. Do you remember everyone who's kissed your lips?
Listen, I brought a friend.
Just between us,
his scepter isn't working.
He was quite proud of it,
as you can imagine.
You sleep now.
Remember dream of other night? Bad dream.
If you promise to be good, I call Eleutheria.
I'm here!
Forget that pickled eel!
Encolpius, you squashed snail!
Come to me!
I want to be cured! Cure me!
Farewell, Encolpius.
I'll be waiting.
Waiting for me? Where?
A ship carrying slaves and precious goods to Africa
sails tomorrow at midnight.
I know what you need.
The sorceress Oenothea.
Oenothea?
A very powerful sorceress.
She rules the whole city.
She can turn a stone into water
or put out the stars.
It's an ancient story.
Many years ago, Oenothea was young and beautiful,
and a gifted wizard with great powers
fell in love with her.
Oenothea... come.
I need your beauty.
But the wizard was old and ugly.
You know what Oenothea did?
She said to him,
“Come to me tonight. I 'll lower a basket
so you can come up to my house.”
But when the old man was in the basket,
she left him hanging.
But the wizard took revenge on her and everyone.
He extinguished all fire throughout the land.
All the people came to beg of him,
“Give us back our fire.
We can't see at night
or cook our food.”
And the wizard said...
“The fire is hidden beneath Oenothea's skirt.
Go look and you'll find it.”
Where is she now?
No one knows where Oenothea is.
You must seek her.
Many say beyond the great swamp.
Ascyltus...
aren't you scared?
Me? Scared of what?
You think Oenothea will come?
What if she doesn't?
She'll come, all right... for this!
Encolpius!
Oh, great Mother, can you see my disgrace?
This culprit before you
is guilty of treachery.
He killed a man
and desecrated a temple!
Now he's a soldier without a weapon.
I don't know who caused me all this trouble.
I can't understand what's happened to me.
I must do it! I must!
I must succeed!
Encolpius...
let's go.
Ascyltus, the great gods have cured me!
Mercury has given me back my strength.
Farewell, Oenothea, generous mother.
We must be happy now! I want to make up for lost time.
The flower of youth withers too soon.
Run, Ascyltus, run!
We'll get on a ship and sail far away,
my brother.
This is no place for adventurers anyway.
The new caesar is too hard on outlaws.
We'll leave tonight.
Where is all your joy now, all your arrogance?
Now you're at the mercy of the fish and wild beasts,
you who made such show of your warrior-like innocence.
Come now, mortals.
Fill your hearts with dreams.
O great gods...
how far he lies from his destination!
The ship carrying slaves and precious goods to Africa...
will not set sail. Our master is dead.
He left a strange will.
Listen.
“AII those named as beneficiaries in my will -
except freedmen -
will have my belongings
on condition that they out up my body
and eat the pieces in full view of everyone.
I urge my friends not to reject my invitation,
but to devour my corpse as ardently as they sent my soul to hell.”
It can't be.
It must be a joke.
Why?
In some cultures it's still the custom
for family members to eat their dead.
In fact, the sick are reproached
because their condition makes their flesh taste bad.
I'm not concerned about my stomach's rejection.
It knows that in return for an hour of nausea,
it will have an abundance of delights.
There are certainly many examples.
The Saguntines, besieged by Hannibal, ate human flesh,
though they expected no inheritance.
And when Scipio conquered Numanzia,
they found mothers holding the gnawed bodies
of their children in their arms.
As for me, I'm ready to comply.
- Will you come away with us? - Yes, let's go.
The wind is favorable.
The clouds have broken up.
I decided to leave with them.
We set sail that very night.
I was one of the crew.
We visited unknown cities.
For the first time, I heard the names of Kelisha... Rectis.
On an island covered with tall, fragrant grasses,
I met a Greek youth who told me that in the years...