9
I thought I should bore you by telling all that, but since you want it, here goes. I never before dined with a rich man in all my life, Pythagoras, but by a stroke of luck I met Eucrates yesterday; after giving him “Good-day, master,” as usual, I was for going away again, so as not to shame him by joining his company in my beggarly cloak. But: “Micyllus,” said he, “I am giving a birthday party for my daughter to-day, and have invited a great many of my friends: but as one of them is ill, they say, and can’t dine with us, you must take a bath and come in his place, unless, to be sure, the man I invited says that he will come himself, for just now his coming is doubtful.” On hearing this I made obeisance to him and went away, praying to all the gods to send an attack of ague or pleurisy or gout to the invalid whose substitute and diner-out and heir I had been invited to become. I thought it an interminable age until my bath, and kept looking all the while to see how long the shadow was and when it would at last be time to bathe.
9
When the time finally came, I scrubbed myself with all speed and went off very well dressed, as I had turned my cloak inside out so that the garment might’ show the cleaner side.
