One of the most remarkable characters in the reign of Nero was Titus Petronius Arbiter.  He was a great favourite with the Emperor, and held some official appointment—­the duties of which he is said to have discharged with ability.  In his writings he is supposed to condemn immorality, but he enlarges so much upon what he disapproves that we doubt whether he does not promote the vice he pretends to condemn.[25] His “Satyricon” is not intended to be a satire, but an imitation of one of those old Greek comedies which treated of the doings of Satyrs and grotesque country deities.  It is the first comic prose work, for in early times verse was thought as necessary to humour as to poetry.  The whole work is enveloped in a voluptuous atmosphere; it is written in a gay roystering style, but although the indelicacy is great the humour is small.  Occasionally it is interesting, as giving an insight into private life in the days of Nero.  Here we find Trimalchio, a rich man, providing for the amusement of his guests, as well as for their sumptuous entertainment.  One dish was a wild boar, which was placed on the table with a cap of liberty on its head.  Petronius asked the meaning of this.  “Why,” said he, “your servant could explain that, it is no riddle.  This boar escaped from yesterday’s dinner where it was dismissed by the guests, and he now returns to table as a freedman.”  Afterwards a much larger hog was brought in.  “What!” cried Trimalchio, looking closely at it, “is not his inside taken out?  No! it is not; call the cook, call the cook.”  The cook being brought in, excused himself saying that he forgot.  “Forgot!” cried Trimalchio, “why, he talks as if it were only a pinch of pepper omitted.  Strip him.”  In a moment the cook was stripped to be flogged.  All interceded for him, but Petronius felt somewhat indignant at such an oversight, and said he must be a careless rascal to forget to disembowel a hog.  Trimalchio with a pleasant look said, “Come, you with the short memory, see if you can bowel him before us.”  The cook slashed with his knife, and out tumbled a load of puddings and sausages.  All the servants raised a shout, and the cook was presented with a cup of wine, and a silver crown.

Petronius shared the fate of Seneca.  He was suspected of conspiring against the Emperor, and his life being demanded, he preferred to suffer by his own hand rather than by that of the executioner.  He caused his veins to be opened, but strangely whimsical to the last, and wishing to die slowly, he had them closed at intervals.  In his dying state he was daily carried about the streets of Cumae, and received his friends, made love verses and humorous epigrams, and endeavoured to withdraw his thoughts from the sad reality by indulging in all kinds of amusing caprices.  At length he expired—­another distinguished victim of Nero’s cruelty.