Page:The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter (1922), vol. 2.djvu/60

 the fresh air, but scarcely had I set foot upon the public promenade when a girl, by no means homely, met me, and, calling me ya Polyænos, the name I had assumed since my metamorphosis, informed me that her mistress desired leave to speak with me. “You must be mistaken,” I answered, in confusion, “I am only a servant and a stranger, and am by no means worthy of such an honor.”)

  (“You yourself,” she replied, “are the one to whom I was sent but,) because you are well aware of your good looks, you are proud and sell your favors instead of giving them. What else can those wavy well-combed locks mean or that face, rouged and covered with cosmetics, or that languishing, wanton expression in your eyes? Why that gait, so precise that not a footstep deviates from its place, unless you wish to show off if your figure in order to sell your favors? Look at me, I know nothing about omens and I Rh