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THE SATYRICON OF TITUS PETRONIUS ARBITER
 He had still more talk to puff out, when the table was filled by a dish holding an enormous pig. We began to express astonishment at such speed, and took our oath that not even a fowl could have been properly cooked in the time, especially as the pig seemed to us to be much bigger than the boar had been a little while earlier. Trimalchio looked at it more and more closely and then said, “What, what, has not this pig been gutted? I swear it has not. The cook, send the cook up here to us.” The poor cook came and stood by the table and said that he had forgotten to gut it. “What? Forgotten?” shouted rrimalchio. “You would think the fellow had only forgotten to season it with pepper and cummin. Off with his shirt!” In a moment the cook was stripped and stood dolefully between two executioners. Then we all began to beg him off and say: “These things will happen; do let him go; if he does it again none of us will say a word for him.” I was as stiff and stern as could be; I could not restrain myself, but leaned over and said in Agamemnon's ear: “This must be a most wretched servant; how could anyone forget to gut a pig? On my oath I would not forgive him if he had let a fish go like that.” But Trimalchio's face softened into smiles. “Well,” he said, “if your memory is so bad, clean him here in front of us.” The cook put on his shirt, seized a knife, and carved the pig's belly in various places with a shaking hand. At once the[p. 89] slits widened under the pressure from within, and sausages and black puddings tumbled out.
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