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From The Inns of Greece & Rome, and a history of Hospitality from the Dawn of Time to the Middle Ages, by W. C. Firebaugh, with an Introduction by Wallace Rice and Illustrations by Norman Lindsay, Chicago: Pascal Covici; 1928; pp. 242-260.

THE INNS OF GREECE AND ROME

CHAPTER  XVI.

Meritoria in relation to lupanar — Inns respectable and otherwise — Nero again — Apuleius’ spirited account of an adventure in an inn of the second century.

Next we shall visit the meritoria. They are places, I assure you, which you will never be able to know well, no matter how keen your curiosity, except at the expense of your modesty. These are inns of which the most respectable savor somewhat of our family hotels, but of which the worst could scarcely be placed upon the same level as the lupanars. In fact, the terms came to be almost synonymous. A passage in the Digest enlightened us completely as to the difference between the meritorium and the ordinary lodging house (by meritorium we refer to the honest establishment). “There,” says Ulpian, “lodgers remain for a long time and are persons known and respected, (in longum tempus, certisque personis).” In the other the lodger is a transient from day to day (ferre in dies) and is a person unknown and uncertain. Other places there were which belonged to this latter class but which were of a lower order in which chance guests could rent a furnished room for the night. These places were almost invariably dangerous. They were evilly constructed and were several stories high; more crowded even than our tenements, and filthy beyond description. The characters of their lodgers were usually in keeping with the proprieties of the place. In these meritoria, poverty stricken families were accustomed to live from day to day, paying for their lodging for a short time and at a high rate and when they were unable to amass the funds necessary to maintain them, the proprietor 243 ejected them without scruple, to rent another lodging or to huddle in the streets or in the dark cold passageways. There flocked always the vagabonds which are to be found at all times in all the great cities — a class without fire or roof (sine lare certo) as Horace says of them, who roosted where they could but lodged nowhere. The women and the children of Vitellius were reduced to such straits. According to Suetonius, ruined by the gormandising of that glutton, abandoned by him at Rome without other resource than the house in which they lived, they left it and went to lodge in furnished lodgings. They did not leave it until they went to live in the imperial palace when Vitellius became emperor.

Tenants such as these, however, were rare in such lodgings. Ordinarily, the classes who lived in the meritoria were so poorly dressed and so unsociable and so pitiably degraded that the legislator implicitly declared it fatal to propriety to live in such a situation, and in the Codex a defence is based upon the premise that a house was to be transformed into a meritorium or lodging house with small bedchambers.

For us, and without doubt the legislator took the same view, that law is more than a civil law, it is also a moral law: the chief reasons for its passage were those of propriety, as the population common to these meritoria was degraded and good manners had to be safe-guarded, which could be done by preventing the erection of establishments where scandal and crime were sure to originate. The meritoria were in effect infamous refuges where vice and vicious practise flourished and crimes of luxury found here the shadow of oblivion and the secrecy without which they could not flourish. Especially were such lodging houses the ordinary refuges of adulterers. The scandalous usage which was made of these commodious retreats became at last so general, and little by little they 244 assimilated to themselves so completely the other places of debauchery, that finally, as we have said, the two words meritorium and lupanar came to have the same meaning. When Vospiscus said that the emperor Tacitus gave orders as to certain bad places of the city he refers to the meritoria; with Spartianus it is the same, when he cites the letter of Severus reproaching Rogonius Cellus because the tribunes of his army ate in the cook-shops but slept in the taverns he uses a significant phrase, “pro tricliniis popinas habent, pro cubiculis meritoria.” Lodging houses, as was but natural, took also sometimes at Rome the name meritorium. Certain verses of Juvenal do not permit us to doubt this. He shows us a poor devil of a traveller who, ill in a lodging house in the most noisy quarter of Rome, where the uproar is torture, dies then from lack of sleep; and another who, tormented by his indigestion, caused by the meal which he had taken in that inn, lies upon his stomach and cannot sleep peacefully.

To designate these inhospitable retreats, the word meritoria is used by the satirists.¹

That which is decisive proof that by meritorium was meant a hotel at Rome is the fact that one does not call otherwise the immense asylum, a veritable hotel of disabled soldiers in which at the expense of the state the old wounded veterans were maintained. This meritorium stood upon the site occupied today by the church of Santa Maria in the Transtiber.

However, the inn in Rome as well as along the roads was generally called simply caupona, whether it savored of the cabaret or not; again, the term diversorium was applied and sometimes diverticulum, because, forsooth, they were found upon the side streets and not upon the 245 public ways but at crossroads. Tacitus has represented Nero as running about in the habiliments of a slave, the streets of the city, the red light district, and the taverns and inns; and the term which he applies is diverticula.

An epigram of Martial has lent color to the charges frequently preferred against the innkeepers, charges accusing them of all manner of theft including even that of robbing the pack animals, owned by their guests, of their grain and fodder.

“Muleteer, accept what thou dost not give to the uncomplaining mules as, though I do not wish to give you a present, neither do I wish to give it to the landlord.

The Roman inn, fairly well provided along the great routes, could lodge beast and men at the same time; could give shelter at the same time to the host, to the guest, servants and baggage. In the Menaechmi of Plautus the hero arrives at Rome with a considerable equipage which he sends on ahead of him to an inn under the guard of one whom he can trust and also of his other slaves; nor did he retain those things esteemed of greatest value in his baggage, and we shall find it also very imprudent to thus rely upon the honor of an innkeeper and his slaves.

All these lodgings came at a high rate, but were not worth what they cost. Stratilax, in the Truculentus, a man well informed, prevented such treatment for himself. “Hold,” said he to his guide, “I would be led into a tavern where I would be received badly for my money.” And it was worse in the suburbs. Judge by what Harpax says of the hag Chrysis, the toothless and greasy hostess whom he met, “I will go and lodge outside the gates, at the third tavern, with the old woman Chrysis, gross as a hogshead, lame and greasily fat.”

From the propriety of this hostess, judge well that of the lodging.

In the city or in the suburbs, the majority of the inns were uncleanly, frequented by peoples of all sorts and conditions, a medley of thieves, debauchees, and unsavory lodgers, and the eyes of the prudent aedile and praetor were always on them. Every day a lictor visited suspected inns where espionage was thought to be carried on.

Many a passage in Petronius has recorded perhaps too faithfully the doings and life of institutions such as these, and Eumolpus and Encolpius were as well qualified to speak of the things which went on under their eyes as they were to take part in them. Marcus Manicius, that hardy type of landlord, is as universal as self-interest, and who shall say that the sweet predaciousness of designing widowhood is more frequently imposed upon today than it was in the reign of Nero, when the laws did not protect it so thoroughly. Apuleius has preserved a spirited account of an adventure in an inn of the second century. He had arrived at Hypata, in Thessaly, and being a mystic, devoting much attention to witchcraft and magic, made the best of the story he puts in the mouth of Aristomenes. The passage occurs in the first book of the Metamorphosis and runs as follows.

TALE OF ARISTOMENES, THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER

“I am a native of Ægina, and I travel to and fro through Thessaly, Ætolia, and Bœotia, for the purpose of purchasing honey of Hypata, as also cheese, and other articles of traffic used in cookery. Having understood that at Hypata,² which is the principal city of all Thessaly, 247 new cheese of exquisite flavour was to be sold at a very reasonable price, I made the best of my way to that place, with the intention of buying up the whole of it. But, as generally is the case, starting unluckily with the left foot foremost,³ all my hopes of gain were utterly disappointed. For a person named Lupus, a merchant in a large way of business, had bought the whole of it the day before.

“Weary with my rapid journey, undertaken to so little purpose, I proceeded, early in the evening, to the public baths, when, to my surprise, I espied an old companion of mine, named Socrates. He was sitting on the ground, half covered with a sorry, tattered cloak, and looked almost another person, he was so miserably wan and thin; just like those outcasts of Fortune, who beg alms in the streets. Consequently, although he had been my friend and particular acquaintance I yet accosted him with feelings of hesitation.

“ ‘How now, friend Socrates,’ said I, ‘what is the meaning of this? Why this appearance? What crime have you been guilty of? Why, you have been lamented at home, and for some time given up for dead.⁴ Guardians have been assigned to your children, by decree of the provincial magistrate. Your wife, having fulfilled what was due to the dead,⁵ all disfigured by grief and long-continued sorrow, and having almost cried herself blind with excessive weeping, is being worried by her parents to 248 repair the misfortune of the family by the joys of a new marriage. But here you come before our eyes like some spectral apparition, to our extreme confusion.’

“ ‘O Aristomenes!’ said he, ‘it is clear that you are ignorant of the slippery turns, the unstable freaks, and the ever-changing vicissitudes of Fortune.’

“As he said this, he hid his face, which was crimsoned with shame, in his cobbled covering of tatters, so that he left the rest of his body naked. At last, unable to endure the sight of such a miserable spectacle of woe, I took hold of him, and endeavoured to raise him from the ground. But, with his head covered up as it was, he exclaimed, ‘Let me alone, let me alone; let Fortune still enjoy the trophy she has erected.

“However, I prevailed upon him to accompany me: and at the same time pulling off one of my own two garments, I speedily — clothed, or covered him shall I say? immediately after which, I took him to a bath, and, myself, applied to him the requisite anointing and scrubbing processes, and laboriously rubbed off the coat of filth with which he was defiled. Having paid every attention to him, though tired myself, I supported his enfeebled steps, and with great difficulty brought him to my inn; where I made him rest on a couch, gave him plenty of food, cheered him with wine, and entertained him with the news of the day. And now our conversation took quite a merry turn, we cracked jokes, and grew noisy in our prattle; when, heaving a bitter sigh from the bottom of his breast, and violently striking his forehead with his right hand:

“ ‘Miserable man that I am!’ said he; ‘to have fallen into these misfortunes while intent on gratifying myself with a famous gladiatorial spectacle. For, as you are very well aware, I went to Macedonia on an affair of business; and after being detained there for the space of 249 ten months, I was on my return homewards, having gained a very pretty sum of money. I had nearly reached Larissa,⁶ which I had included in my route for the purpose of seeing the spectacle I mentioned, when I was attacked by some desperate robbers, in a lonely and rugged valley, and only effected my escape after being plundered by them of all I possessed. Being thus reduced to extreme distress, I betook myself to a certain woman named Meroë, who kept a tavern, and who, though old, was remarkably engaging; and to her I related the circumstances of my lengthened absence, of my earnest desire to reach home, and of my being plundered of my property on that day. After I, unfortunate wretch, had related such particulars as I remembered, she treated me with the greatest kindness, supplied me with a good supper, all for nothing. But from the very moment that I, unhappy man, first saw her, my mind contracted a lasting malady; and I even made her a present of those garments which the robbers, in their humanity, had left me to cover my nakedness. I likewise presented her with the little earnings I made by working as a cloak-maker while I was yet in good condition of body; and at length this worthy partner, and ill fortune together, reduced me to that state in which you just saw me.’

“ ‘By Pollux, then,’ said I, ‘you deserve to suffer extreme misfortunes, if there is anything still more extreme than that which is most extreme, for having preferred the pleasures of dalliance and a wrinkled harlot, to your home and children.’

“ ‘Hush! hush!’ said he, raising his forefinger to his mouth, and looking round with a terror-stricken countenance to see if he might speak with safety; ‘Forbear to revile a woman skilled in celestial matters, lest you do yourself an injury through an intemperate tongue.’

“ ‘Say you so?’ said I. ‘What kind of a woman is this tavern keeper, so powerful and queenly?’

“ ‘She is a sorceress,’ he replied, ‘and endowed with powers divine; she is able to draw down the heavens, to uplift the earth, to harden the running water, to dissolve mountains, to raise the shades of the dead, to dethrone the Gods, to extinguish the stars, and to illumine the depths of Tartarus itself.’

“ ‘Come come,’ said I, ‘do draw asunder this tragic curtain⁷ and fold up the theatric drop-scene, and let’s hear your story in ordinary parlance.’

“ ‘Should you like,’ said he, ‘to hear of one or two, ay, or a great many of her performances? Why, as for making not only her fellow-countrymen love her to distraction, but the Indians even, or the inhabitants of both the Æthiopias,⁸ and even the Antichthones⁹ themselves, these are only the leaves, as it were, of her art, and mere trifles. Listen, then, and hear what she has performed in the presence of many witnesses. By a single word only, she changed a lover of hers into a beaver, for having been connected with another woman. She likewise changed an innkeeper, who was her neighbour and of whom she was envious on that account, into a frog; and now the old fellow, swimming about in a cask of his own 251 wine, or buried in the dregs, croaks hoarsely to his old customers, quite in the way of business. She likewise transformed another person, an advocate of the Forum, into a ram, because he had conducted a cause against her; and to this very day that ram is always at loggerheads.¹⁰ Then there was the wife of a lover of hers, whom she condemned to perpetual pregnancy, when on the point of increasing her family, by closing her womb against the egress of the infant, because she had chattered scandal against the witch.

“After this woman, however, and many other persons, had been injured by her arts, the public indignation became aroused against her; and it was determined that on the following day a most dire vengeance should be wreaked upon her, by stoning her to death. But, by the power of her enchantments, she frustrated this design: and as Medea, having obtained by entreaty from Creon the truce of a single day, prior to her departure, burned his whole palace, his daughter, together with the old man himself, with flames issuing from a garland, so, likewise did this sorceress, having performed certain deadly incantations in a ditch,¹¹ (as she herself lately told me in a fit of drunkenness), confine all the inhabitants of the town, each in his own house, through a secret spell of the dæmons; so that for two whole days together, neither could the bars be wrenched off, nor the doors be taken off the hinges, nor, in fine, could a breach be made in the walls; until, by mutual consent, the people unanimously cried out, and swore in the most sacred manner, that they would not lift a hand against her, and would, in case any one should think of so doing, afford her timely assistance. 252 Being after this manner appeased, she liberated the whole city.

“ ‘In the middle of the night, however, she conveyed the author of this conspiracy, together with all his house, that is to say, with the walls, the very ground, and all the foundations, close shut as it was, into another city, situate at the hundredth milestone hence, and on the summit of a craggy mountain, in consequence of which it is deprived of water. And, as the dwellings of the inhabitants were built to close together, that they did not afford room to this new comer, she threw down the house before the gate of the city, and took her departure.’

“ ‘You narrate,’ said I, ‘marvellous things, my good Socrates, and no less terrible than marvellous. In fine, you have excited in me too, no small anxiety, indeed, I may say, fear, not inoculating me with a mere grain of apprehension, but piercing me with dread as with a spear, lest this old hag, employing in a similar manner the assistance of some dæmon, should come to know this conversation of ours. Let us, therefore, with all speed, betake ourselves to rest, and when we have relived our weariness by a night’s sleep, let us fly hence as far as we possibly can, before daylight.’

“While I was yet advising him thus, the worthy Socrates, overcome by more wine than he had been accustomed to, and by the fatigue of the day, had fallen asleep, and was now snoring aloud. Shutting the door, therefore, securing the bolts, and placing my bed close against the hinges, I tossed it up well, and lay down upon it. At first, indeed, I lay awake some time through fear, but closed my eyes at last a little about the third watch.¹²

“I had just fallen asleep, when suddenly the door was burst open with too great violence for one to believe that it was robbers; nay, the hinges being entirely broken and 253 wrenched off, it was thrown to the ground. The bedstead, too, which was but small, wanting one foot, and rotten, was thrown down with the violence of the shock, and falling upon me, who had been rolled out and pitched upon the ground, completely covered and concealed me. Then was I sensible that certain emotions of the mind are naturally excited by contrary causes. For as tears very often proceed from joy, so, amid my extreme fear, I could not refrain from laughing, to see myself turned, from Aristomenes, into a tortoise.¹³ And so, while prostrate on the floor, peeping askance to see what was the matter, and completely covered by the bed, I espied two women, of advanced age, one of whom carried a lighted lamp, and the other a sponge and a drawn sword. Thus equipped, they planted themselves on either side of Socrates, who was fast asleep.

“She who carried the sword then addressed the other, ‘This, sister Panthia, is my dear Endymion,¹⁴ my Ganymede,¹⁵ who by day and by night, hath laughed my youthful age to scorn. This is he who, despising my passion, not only defames me with abusive language, but is preparing also for flight — and I, forsooth, deserted through the craft of this Ulysses, just like another Calypso, am to be left to lament in eternal loneliness.’

“Then extending her right hand, and pointing me out to her friend Panthia: ‘And there,’ said she, ‘is his worthy counsellor Aristomenes, who was the proposer of this flight, and who now, half dead, is lying flat on the ground beneath the bedstead, and is looking at all that is going on, while he fancies that he is to relate disgraceful stories of me with impunity. I’ll take care, however, that some 254 day, ay, and before long too, this very instant in fact, he shall repent of his recent loquacity, and his present inquisitiveness.’

“On hearing this, wretch that I was, I felt myself streaming with cold perspiration, and my vitals began to throb with agitation; so much so, that even the bedstead shaken by the violence of my palpitations, moved up and down upon my back.

“ ‘Well, sister,’ said the worthy Panthia, ‘shall we hack him to pieces at once, after the fashion of the Bacchanals, or, shall we bind his limbs and hold him prisoner?’

“To this, Meroë replied — for I perceived from the circumstances, as well as from the narrative of Socrates, how well that name fitted her¹⁶ — ‘Rather let him live, if only that he may cover with a little earth the body of this wretched creature.’ Then, moving the head of Socrates to one side, she plunged the whole sword into him up to the hilt, through the left side of his throat, carefully receiving the flowing blood into a small leathern bottle, placed under it, so that not a drop of it was anywhere to be seen. All this did I witness with my own eyes; and, what is more, the worthy Meroë, that she might not, I suppose, omit any due observance in the sacrifice of the victim, thrusting her right hand through the wound, into the very entrails, and groping among them, drew forth the heart of my unhappy companion; while, his windpipe being severed by the thrust of the weapon, he emitted through the wound a voice, or rather I should say, an indistinct gurgling noise, and poured forth his spirit with his bubbling blood. Panthia then stopped the gaping wound with the sponge, exclaiming, ‘Beware, O sea-born sponge, how thou dost pass through a river.’

“Hardly had they passed over the threshold, when the door resumed its former state; the hinges resettled on the pannels; the posts returned to the bars, and the bolts flew back once more to their sockets. But I, left in such a plight, prostrate on the ground, scared, naked, cold, indeed, I may say, half dead, but still surviving myself, and pursuing, as it were, a posthumous train of reflections, or, to say the least, like a candidate for the cross, to which I was surely destined: ‘What,’ said I, ‘will become of me, when this man is found in the morning with his throat cut? Though I tell the truth, who will think my story probable? You ought at least, they will say, to have called for assistance, if you, such a stout man as you are, could not resist a woman. Is a man’s throat to be cut before your eyes, and are you to be silent? How was it you were not likewise assassinated? Why did the barbarous wretch spare you, a witness of the murder, and not kill you, if only to put an end to all evidence of the crime? Inasmuch, then, as you have escaped death, now return to it.’

“These remarks I repeated to myself, over and over again, while the night was fast verging towards day.

“It appeared to me, therefore, most advisable to escape by stealth before daylight, and to pursue my journey, though with trembling steps. I took up my bundle, and putting the key in the door, drew back the bolts. But this good and faithful door, which during he night had opened of its own accord, was now to be opened but with the greatest difficulty, after putting in the key a multitude of times.

“ ‘Hallo! porter,’ said I, ‘where are you? Open the gates of the inn; I want to be off before break of day.’

“The porter who was lying on the ground behind the door of the inn, still half asleep, replied, ‘Who are you, who would begin your journey at this time of night? 256 Don’t you know that the roads are infested by robbers? Ay, ay, though you may have a mind to meet your death, stung by your conscience, belike for some crime you have committed, still, I haven’t a head like a pumpkin, that I should die for your sake.’

“ ‘It isn’t very far from day-break,’ said I; ‘and besides, what can robbers take from a traveller in the greatest poverty? Are you ignorant, you simpleton, that he who is naked cannot be stripped by ten athletes even?’

“The drowsy porter, turning himself on his other side, made answer, ‘And how am I to know that you have not murdered that fellow-traveller of yours, with whom you came hither last night, and are now consulting your safety in flight? And now I recollect that just at that hour I saw the depths of Tartarus¹⁷ through the yawning earth and in them the dog Cerberus, looking ready to devour me.’

“Then truly I came to the conclusion that the worthy Meroë had not spared my throat through any compassion, but that she had cruelly reserved me for the cross.¹⁸ Accordingly, on returning to my chamber, I thought about some speedy mode of putting an end to myself: but as Fortune had provided me with no weapon with which to commit self-destruction, except the bedstead alone — ‘Now, bedstead,’ said I, ‘most dear to my soul, who hast been partner with me in enduring so many sorrows, who art fully conscious, and a spectator of this night’s events, and whom alone, when accused, I can adduce as a witness of my innocence, do thou supply me, who would fain 257 hasten to the shades below, with a welcome instrument of death.’

“Thus saying, I began to undo the rope with which the bed was corded, and throwing one end of it over a small beam which projected above the window, and there fastening it, and making a strong slip-knot at the other end, I mounted upon the bed, and thus elevated for my own destruction, I put my head into the noose. But while with one foot I was kicking away the support on which I rested, so that the noose, being tightened about my throat by the strain of my weight, might stop the functions of my breath; the rope, which was old and rotten, broke asunder, and falling from aloft, I tumbled with great force upon Socrates (for he was lying close by), and rolled with him on the floor.

“Lo and behold! at the very same instant the porter burst into the room, bawling out, ‘Where are you, you uneasy traveler who were in such monstrous haste to be off at midnight, and now lie snoring, rolled up in the bed-clothes?’

“At these words, whether awakened by my fall, or by the discordant notes of the porter, I know not, Socrates was the first to start up, and exclaim, ‘Assuredly, it is not without good reason that all travellers detest these hostlers. For this troublesome fellow, intruding so impertinently, with the intention, no doubt, of stealing something, has roused me out of a sound sleep, by his outrageous bellowing.’

“On hearing him speak, I jumped up briskly, in an ecstasy of unhoped-for joy: ‘Faithfullest of porters,’ I exclaimed, ‘my friend, my own father, and my brother, behold him whom you, in your drunken fit, falsely accused me of having murdered.’ So saying, I embraced Socrates, and was for loading him with kisses; but he, being assailed by the stench of the most filthy liquor with which those 258 hags¹⁹ had drenched me, repulsed me with considerable violence. ‘Get out with you,’ he cried, ‘for you stink like the bottom of a sewer,’ and then began jocularly to enquire the cause of this nasty smell. Sorely confused, I trumped up some absurd story on the spur of the moment, to give another turn to the conversation, and, taking him by the right hand, ‘Why not be off,’ said I, ‘and enjoy the freshness of the morning on our journey?’ So I took my bundle, and, having paid the innkeeper for our night’s lodging, we started on our road.

“We had proceeded some little distance, and now every thing being illumined by the beams of the rising sun, I keenly and attentively examined that part of my companion’s neck, into which I had seen the sword plunged. ‘Foolish man,’ said I to myself, ‘buried in your cups, you certainly have had a most absurd dream. Why look, here’s Socrates safe, sound and hearty. Where is the wound? where is the sponge? where, in fine, is the scar of a wound, so deep, and so recent?

“Addressing myself to him, ‘Decidedly,’ said I, ‘skilful doctors have good reason to be of opinion that it is those who are stuffed-out with food and fermented liquors who are troubled with portentous and horrible dreams. My own case is an instance of this: for having in my evening cups exceeded the bounds of temperance, a wretched night has been presenting to me shocking and dreadful visions, so that I still fancy myself besprinkled and defiled with human gore.’

“ ‘’Tis not gore,’ he replied with a smile, ‘you are sprinkled with, but chamber-lye; and yet I too, thought, in my sleep, that my throat was cut: some pain, too, I felt in my neck, and I fancied that my very heart was being 259 plucked out: and even now I am quite faint, my knees tremble, I stagger as I go, and feel in want of some food to refresh my spirits.’

“ ‘Look,’ cried I, ‘here’s breakfast all ready for you;’ and so saying, I lifted my wallet from off my shoulders, and at once handed him some cheese and bread, saying, ‘Let us sit down near that plane-tree.’

“We did so, and I also helped myself to some refreshment. While looking at him somewhat more intently, as he was eating with a voracious appetite, I saw that he was faint, and of a hue like box-wood; his natural colour in fact had so forsaken him, that as I recalled those nocturnal furies to my frightened imagination, the very first piece of bread I put into my mouth, though a very tiny bit, stuck in the middle of my throat, so that it could neither pass downward, nor yet return upward. And then besides, the number of people passing along increased my apprehensions; for who would believe that one of two companions could meet with his death without any harm done by the other?

“Meanwhile, after having devoured a sufficient quantity of food, he began to be impatient for some drink; for he had voraciously eaten a good part of a most excellent cheese; and not very far from the roots of the plane-tree, a gentle stream slowed slowly along, just like a placid lake, rivalling silver or glass in its lustre. ‘Look,’ said I, ‘drink your fill of the water of this stream, bright as the Milky Way.’

“He arose, and, wrapping himself in his cloak,²⁰ with his knees doubled under him knelt down upon the shelving bank, and bent greedily towards the water. Scarcely had he touched the dewy surface of the water with the edge of his lips, when the wound in his throat burst wide open, the sponge suddenly rolled out, a few drops of blood 260 accompanying it; and then, his body, bereft of life, would have fallen into the river, had I not laid hold of one of his feet, and dragged it with the utmost difficulty and labour to the top of the bank; where, having, as well as the time permitted, lamented my unfortunate companion, I buried him in the sandy soil that eternally begirt the stream. For my own part, trembling and terror-stricken, I fled through various and unfrequented places; and, as though conscious of the guilt of homicide, abandoning my country and my home, and embracing a voluntary exile, I now dwell in Ætolia, where I have married another wife.”

One must realize that in accounts such as these, circulated in the conversation wherever people met, an author such as Apuleius would revel, and his fiction is founded upon such episodes, tinctured perhaps by lore from the Levant, or from the more remote hamlets of his native Africa. The perseverance with which such peoples adhere to the customs of primitive hospitality has much to commend it, and the bandits and beauties in distress whom he has introduced were as characteristic of his age as they are of our own.

Note

 ¹  See page 128 (See Juvenal Meritoria).

 ²  Hypata. — This was a famous city of Thessaly, situate on the banks of the river Spercheus.

 ³  Left foot foremost. — To start on a journey by putting the left foot foremost was considered to be especially significant of ill luck; so much so, that the expression came to be generally used to denote a bad omen.

 ⁴  Given up for dead. — “Conclamatus es.” After a person was dead it was the custom of the Romans to call on him by name, for the purpose of recalling him to life, in case he should be only in a trance. This ceremony was called “conclamatio,” and was generally performed while the body was being washed, once a day for seven days; after which period the body was burnt.

 ⁵  Due to the dead. — Ovid, in his Fasti, b. i. l. 36, mentions ten months as the period assigned by Numa or widows to mourn the loss of their husbands.

 ⁶  Larissa. — A city of Thessaly, situated near the river Peneus.

 ⁷  Tragic curtain. — The “siparium” was a piece of tapestry, stretched on a frame, and, rising before the state, answered the same purpose as the curtain or drop-scene with us in concealing the stage till the actors appeared. Instead of drawing up this curtain to discover the stage and actors, according to our present practice, it was depressed when the play began, and fell beneath the level of the stage; whence “aulæa premuntur,” meant that the play had commenced. “Aulæa” seems here to mean the stage curtain, which divided in the middle and was drawn aside: while the “siparium” would more nearly correspond with our drop-scene.

 ⁸  The Æthiopias. — The eastern and the western, separated from each other by the river Nile, which the ancients (as we are informed by Strabo, Geograph. lib. ii.) considered as the boundary of Asia and Africa.

 ⁹  The Antichthones. — So called from inhabiting the earth contrary to that on which we dwell. Hence they are either the same with the Antipodes, or, at least, are those who dwell in the inferior hemisphere which is contrary to ours.

¹⁰  Is always at loggerheads. — “Causas agit.” This Sir G. Head cleverly renders, “and gives rebutters and surrebutters as he used to do.”

¹¹  Incantations in a ditch. — Sacrifices to celestial gods were offered on raised altars; those to terrestrial gods, on the ground; those to infernal gods, in a pit or ditch.

¹²  Third Watch. — The beginning of this would be midnight.

¹³  Into a tortoise. — From his bed and bedstead being turned over him.

¹⁴  My dear Endymion. — Alluding to the secret of Diana and the shepherd Endymion, on Mount Latmus.

¹⁵  My Ganymede. — Called “Catamitus” in the text; by which name he is also called in the Menæchmi of Plautus.

¹⁶  How well that name fitted her. — Ausonius, Epigram xix., explains this allusion.

You are named Meroë, not because you are of a swarthy complexion like one born in Meroë, the island of the Nile; but because you do not dilute your wine with water but are used to drink it unmixed and concentrated. — K.

¹⁷  Saw the depths of Tartarus. — O course in a dream. Just at that hour: — He knows all about it, even to the precise time. The promptitude with which the porter decides from the evidence of his dream that the murder had been actually committed, and at the very moment when the dream occurred, is a fine touch of nature. — K.

¹⁸  For the cross. — The cross was the instrument of punishment for slaves and foreigners, especially in cases of murder.

¹⁹  Those hags. — “Lamiæ” were enchantresses, who were said to prowl about at midnight to satisfy their lustful propensities, and their fondness for human flesh. They correspond very nearly with the “Ghouls” mentioned in the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.

²⁰  In his cloak. — “Palliolo” seems a preferable reading to “paululum.”

Next:

EPILOGUE.

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