Iam Psyche puellae caput involverat flammeo, iam embasicoetas praeferebat facem, iam
ebriae mulieres longum agmen plaudentes fecerant thalamumque incesta exornaverant
iocantium libidine accensa et ipsa surrexit correptumque Gitona in cubiculum traxit.
Sine dubio non repugnaverat puer, ac ne puella quidem tristis expaverat nuptiarum
nomen. Itaque cum inclusi iacerent, consedimus ante limen thalami, et in primis
Quartilla per rimam improbe diductam applicuerat oculum curiosum lusumque puerilem
libidinosa speculabatur diligentia. Me quoque ad idem spectaculum lenta manu traxit,
et quia considerantium cohaeserant2
vultus, quicquid a spectaculo vacabat,
commovebat obiter labra et me tanquam furtivis subinde osculis verberabat. . . .
We threw ourselves into bed and spent the rest of the night without terrors. . . .
The third day had come. A good dinner was promised. But we were bruised and sore.
Escape was better even than rest. We were making some melancholy plans for avoiding
the coming storm, when one of Agamemnon's servants came up as we stood hesitating,
and said, “Do you not know at whose house it is today? Trimalchio, a very rich
man, who has a clock and a uniformed trumpeter in his dining-room, to keep
telling him how much of his life is lost and gone.” We forgot our
troubles and hurried into our clothes, and told Giton, who till now had been waiting
on us very willingly, to follow us to the baths.