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When I was still a slave, I lived in a narrow row of houses, which is now the home of Gavilla. There, as the gods would have it, I began to love the innkeeper Terentina’s wife, Melissa, a most beautiful little berry. But I was not, by Herculues, attracted to her for her body or on account of sexual things, but because she had a good mind. If I desired something from her, I was never denied it. If she made a coin, I had half a coin. If I entrusted something to her purse, I was never disappointed. Her husband lived his last day at their house. And so through shield and greave, I drove and sailed, oh how I reached her: you know, friends come from narrow places.
Luckily, my master had left for Capua to sell various things. I, having been given the opportunity, persuaded our guest to come with me up to the fifth milestone. And he was a soldier, tough as Orcus. We left before dawn, the moon shining as if at noon. We arrived among the monuments, and my friend began to relieve himself by the tombstones while I went on singing and counting the tombstones. Then when I looked back at my comrade, he undressed himself and placed all his clothes by the side of the road. My spirit was nearly out my nose; I stood still as if dead. But he urinated around his clothes, and suddenly became a wolf! Do not think I’m joking, no amount of money could make me lie! But, as I was saying, after he became a wolf, he began to howl and flee into the forest. I at first didn’t know where I was, then I approached to take his clothes, but they became of stone! Who died of fear if not me?
And yet I drew my sword and, abracadabra! I swung at the shadows until I reached the villa of my friend. I entered like a ghost, my spirit nearly boiling, sweat flying from my crotch, with dead eyes, and I was hardly restored. My Melissa was bewildered because I was walking so late, and said, “If you had come earlier, you would have been a help to us: a wolf entered our home and let out the blood of our cattle like a butcher. And yet he did not get away even if he escaped, as our servant pierced his neck with a spear.” As I heard this, I couldn't shut my eyes more tightly, but at daybreak I fled the house like the pillaged innkeeper and, after arriving where the clothes had been made stone, I discovered nothing but blood. When, in fact, I arrived home, my comrade was lying in bed like a bull and a doctor was treating his neck. I realized that he was a shapeshifter, and afterwards I would never have shared bread with him, not if you had killed me! Let others see what they think, if I deceive you shall your guardian spirits reproach me!
There was in Athens a house that was large and spacious but infamous for being haunted. In the silence of the night, the sound of iron and, if you listened closely, the clanking of chains could be heard, distant at first then drawing nearer. Then there would appear a specter of a lean and filthy old man with a flowing beard and hair standing on end, with shackles on his legs and shaking the chains on his arms.
Thus the sorrowful inhabitants remained awake through the night with fear and their wakefulness led to sickness and, as their terror increased, death. For even by day, although the specter had withdrawn, its memory stayed in their mind's eye such that fear remained even though its cause had gone. The house was thus deserted and left entirely to the specter, yet was advertised for purchase or rent in case someone unaware of its great evil was found.
There came to Athens the philosopher Athenodorus, who read the notice and took note of the price. He was suspicious of its cheapness but after being told everything was all the more interested in renting.
When it began to grow dark, he requested bedding to be laid out in the front part of the house and asked for writing tablets, a stylus, and a lamp. He then sent his attendants away into the house and concentrated his mind, eyes, and hand on his writings so that his mind would not be empty and imagine the phantom he had heard about or other foolish fears.
At first there was only the silence of the night, then came the sounds of iron being struck and chains being moved. He did not raise his eyes or set down his stylus, but steeled his mind and ears to shut out the sound. Then the noise became louder and closer and was heard first entering the doorway then from within in the room. He looked up and recognized the spirit as described to him.
It stood and beckoned with its finger as if summoning him. He signed to it to wait a moment and returned to leaning over his stylus and writings. It rattled its chains over his head as he wrote. He looked up again and it beckoned as before, so without delay he picked up his lamp and followed. It moved with slow steps, burdened by chains. When it turned into the courtyard of the house, it suddenly dispersed and left him alone. He tore up some grass and plants and placed them to mark the spot.
The following day he approached the magistrate and advised that he
order the marked spot to be dug up. They found buried bones wrapped in
chains, which when time and the earth had caused the body to decay were
left bare and empty. The bones were collected and buried properly, and
after the burial rites the house was free from spirits.
Furius and Aurelius, my friends,
if we shall go to India,
to the far-off shore beaten by resounding waves,
if we shall go to the Hyracians or the gentle Arabs,
or the Sagas or the bow-wielding Parthos,
or where the Nile paints sevenfold the sea,
if we shall climb across the highest Alps,
seeing the results of great Caesar,
the Gallic Rhine, and the turbulent seas of farthest Britain,
wherever we are brought by godly will,
we who may complete this journey are also prepared
to announce to my Clodia a few unkind words:
With your adulterers, who you lay with 300 at a time,
with truly no love, but repeatedly breaking their loins;
may you live well and be well,
and may you not look back at my love as before,
which by your fault dies as a flower
at the edge of a field, touched by a passing plow.
Hark now my friends and listen what I say,
my friends, with me a journey you'll engage,
to help me give my girl my own two cents;
to India with far-off rushing waves,
if angry Parthos threaten us with bows,
that will be but one roadblock as we go,
the kind Arabs will shelter us from harm,
the Nile's beauty helps us carry on,
if we shall climb across the highest alps,
and view what Caesar brought unto the land,
the Gallic Rhine and raging British seas,
if by the gods the journey we survive,
prepared to say to her we may yet be:
I hope you're doing fine with all your 'friends',
who hundreds at a time are in your bed,
and even though no love for them you have,
you certainly have other things (like crabs);
and may you not look back at how it was,
the love to you I gave, I now rescind,
as you have killed it like a flower fair
cut down by passing plow at meadow's edge.