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Niceros, pleased with the frankness of his friend: "Let me never thrive," said he, "if I am not ready to caper out of my skin, to see you in so good a humours; therefore what I say shall be all mirth; tho' I am afraid those grave fopps may laugh: but let them look to 't, I'll go on nevertheless; for what am I the worse for any one swearing? I had rather they laugh at what I say, than at my self."
"Then I knew," said Niceros, "that the man was a were-wolf, and never again could I break bread with him, no, not if you had killed me for it." These stories may help us to understand the custom of burning a bewitched animal, which has been observed in our own country down to recent times, if indeed it is even now extinct.
Then he performed a certain ceremony over them, and immediately was changed into a wolf, and ran howling into the forest. When Niceros had recovered himself a little, he went to pick up the clothes, but found that they were turned to stone. More dead than alive, he drew his sword, and, striking at every shadow cast by the tombstones on the moonlit road, he tottered to his friend's house.
After this, when all of us had wished him health and happiness, Trimalchio, turning to Niceros, "You were wont," said he, "to be a good companion, but what's the matter we get not a word from ye now? Let me entreat ye, as you would see me happy, do not break an old custom."
After hearing these words, Niceros felt that he could not close an eye, so he hurried away home again. It was now broad daylight, but when he came to the place where the clothes had been turned to stone, he found only a pool of blood. He reached home, and there lay the soldier in bed like an ox in the shambles, and the doctor was bandaging his neck.
Nothing of the hyaena was to be seen, but the man himself was laid up in the house with a fresh wound and died soon afterwards. And the soldier did not long survive him. But the classical example of these stories is an old Roman tale told by Petronius. It is put in the mouth of one Niceros.
There the soldier made an excuse for retiring behind a monument, and Niceros sat down to wait for him, humming a tune and counting the tombstones to pass the time. In a little he looked round for his companion, and saw a sight which froze him with horror. The soldier had stripped off his clothes to the last rag and laid them at the side of the highway.
"You used to be better company at dinner," he remarked, "and I don't know why you should be dumb today, with never a word to say. If you wish to make me happy, tell about that experience you had, I beg of you." Delighted at the affability of his friend, "I hope I lose all my luck if I'm not tickled to death at the humor I see you in," Niceros replied.
One was called Cerdo business , Trimalchio informed us, the other Lucrio luck and the third Felicio profit and, when all the rest had kissed a true likeness of Trimalchio, we were ashamed to pass it by. After they had all wished each other sound minds and good health, Trimalchio turned to Niceros.
The company were all wondring, when, "Saving what you have said," quoth Trimalchio, "if there be faith in man, my hair stands on end, because I know Niceros is no trifler; he's sure of what he says, and not given to talking: Nay, I'll tell ye as horrible a thing my self; but see there, what's that behind the hangings?
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