We all
commended the action, but chatted among our selves with what little
consideration the things of this world were done. "You're in the
right," said Trimalchio; "nor ought this accident to pass without
booking;" and so calling for the journal, commanded it to be entered;
and with, as little thought, tumbled out these verses:
"What's least expected falls into our dish,
And fortune's more indulgent than our wish:
Therefore, boy, fill the generous wine about."
This epigram gave occasion to talk of the poets, and Marsus, the
Trachian, carry'd the bays a long while: till Trimalchio (turning to
some wit amongst them) "I beseech ye, master of mine," said he, "tell
me what difference take ye between Cicero the orator, and Publius the
poet? for my part I think one was more eloquent, the other the
honester man; for what could be said better than this."
"Now sinking Rome grows weak with luxury,
To please her appetite cram'd peacocks die:
Their gaudy plumes a modish dress supply.
For her the guinnea hen and capon's drest:
The stork it self for Rome's luxurious taste,
Must in a caldron build its humbl'd nest.
That foreign, friendly, pious, long-leg'd thing,
Grateful, that with shrill sounding notes dost sing
All winter's gone; yet ushers in the spring.
Why in one ring must three rich pearls be worn,
But that your wives th' exhausted seas adorn,
Abroad t' increase their lust, at home their scorn?
Why is the costly emerald so desir'd,
Or richer glittering carbuncle admir'd,
Because they sparkle, is't with that you're fir'd?
Well, honesty's a jewel.
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