And now Fortunata began to dance, and Scintilla’s hands went faster than her tongue; when, quoth Trimalchio, “Sit down Philargyrus; I give ye leave, and you Carrio, because you are a green-ribbon-man, and you Minophilus bid your comrade do the like”; what shall I say more?  The family so crowded upon us, that we were almost thrust off our beds; and who should be seated above me, but the cook who had made a goose of a hog, all stinking of pickle and kitchen-stuff; nor yet content that he sate amongst us, he fell immediately to personate Thespis the tragedian, and dare his master to a wager which of them two should win the prize next wrestling.

Trimalchio abash’d at the challenge; “My friends,” said he, “even servants are men; and however oppress’d by ill luck, sucked the same milk our selves did; and for mine, it shall not be long e’re I make them free without prejudice to my self:  to be short, I enfranchise all of them by my last will and testament.

“I give Philargus a country farm, and his she-comrade; to Carrio an island, with a twentieth part of my moveables, a bed and its furniture; for I make Fortunata my heiress, whom I recommend to all my friends, and publish what I have done, to the end my family may so love me now, as if I were dead.”

All thanked their master for his kindness; and he, as having forgotten trifles, called for a copy of his will, which he read from one end to the other, the family all the while sighing and sobbing; afterwards turning to Habinas, “Tell me, my best of friends,” said he, “do you go on with my monument as I directed ye, I earnestly entreat ye, that at the feet of my statue you carve me my little bitch, as also garlands and ointments, and all the battles I have been in, that by your kindness I may live when I am dead:  Be sure too that it have an hundred feet as it fronts the highway, and as it looks towards the fields two hundred:  I will also, that there be all sorts of fruit and vines round my ashes, and that in great abundance:  For it is a gross mistake to furnish houses for the living, and take no care of those we are to abide in for ever:  And therefore in the first place, I will have it engraven—­

‘LET NO HEIR OF MINE PRETEND TO THIS MONUMENT.’

“And that I may receive no injury after I am dead, I’ll have a codicil annext to my will, whereby I’ll appoint one of my freed-men the keeper of this monument, that the people make not a house-of-office of it.  Make me also, I beseech you, on this my monument, ships under full sail, and my self in my robes sitting on the bench, with five gold rings on my fingers, and scattering moneys among the common people; for you know I have ordered ye a funeral feast, and two-pence a-piece in money.  You shall also, if you think fit, shape me some of these beds we now sit on, and all the people making their court to me.  On my right hand place my Fortunata’s statue, with a dove in one hand, and leading a little dog in her girdle with the other:  As also my Cicero, and large wine vessels close cork’d that the wine don’t run out, and yet carve one of them as broken, and a boy weeping over it; as also a sun-dial in the middle, that whoever comes to see what’s-a-clock, may read my name whether he will or no.  And lastly, have a special consideration whether you think this epitaph sufficient enough: