Tied to the altar, with the knife in air,
When, by rare chance, the plaintiff in the suit
Knocks up against us: “Whither now, you brute?”
He roars like thunder. Then to me: “You’ll stand
My witness, sir?” “My ear’s at your command.”
Off to the court he drags him; shouts succeed;
A mob collects—thank Phœbus, I am freed!
—Satires.
The humorist feels a sense of personal grievance against the Roman writers for that they wrote so wisely and so well, yet gave us so little that can be used as Humor for Humor’s sake.
Petronius wrote engagingly, but with such indecency that he can scarce be quoted for polite society.