The Cock (7-9)

Too well do I know it, after starving all day long. It was quite late before you came home—half-seas over—and

Well, so when I got back, and had given is the beans, I went to sleep, and Through the ambrosial night a dream divine— ah, divine indeed!—

Wait: let us have Eucrates first. What sort of a dinner wasit? Tell me all about it. Seize the opportunity: dine once more in waking dream; chew the cud of prandial reminiscence.

I thought all that would bore you; however, if you are curious, all right. I had never dined at a great house in my life before, when yesterday, in a lucky hour for me, I fell in with Eucrates. After saluting him respectfully as usual, I was making off—not to bring discredit on him by walking at his side in my shabby clothes—when he spoke to me: ‘Micyllus,’ he said, ‘it is my daughter’s birthday to-day, and I have invited a number of friends to celebrate it. One of them, I hear, is indisposed, and will not be able to come; you can take his place, always provided that I do not hear from him, for at present I do not know whether to expect him or not.’ I made my bow, and departed, praying that ague, pleurisy, and gout might light upon the invalid whose appetite I had the honour to represent. I thought bath-time would never come; I could not keep my eyes off the dial: where was the shadow now? could I go yet? At last it really was time: I scraped the dirt off, and made myself smart, turning my cloak inside out, so that the clean side might be uppermost.