Fellini Satyricon (1969)
Soldier at Tomb: They've stolen the hanged man! While I was with you, the thief's family took him away! I know what punishment I'll get... a horrible death. Why should I wait for it? I'd rather die by my own hands.
[pulls his sword out and is about to stab himself]
Wife of Ephesus: [stops him] No! No, my dear... To lose the two men in my life, one after the other, would be too much...
Wife of Ephesus: [looks at the corpse of her husband] Better to hang a dead husband than to lose a living lover.
[the couple replace the missing hanged corpse with the corpse of her husband]
Trifena: Lichas, take your groom's hand. Remember you must be faithful to him forever. And you, groom, know that you must forget your past taste for young boys. A husband takes no liberties. You must dedicate your entire self to your bride forever. May complete harmony and great happiness be yours. Venus favors marriages held at sea.
Encolpio: Ascilto... what does the poet say? Each moment presented may be your last, so fill it up until you vomit... or something such?
Eumolpo: All those named as beneficiaries in my will, except the freemen, will come into possession of all I've left behind on the condition they rip my body into pieces and eat me in full view of everyone. I urge my friends not to reject my invitation but to devour my body with the same enthusiasm with which they sent my soul to hell.
Encolpio: The earth has not managed to swallow me into the abyss nor has the sea engulfed me with its raging storms. I have fled from the law and escaped the arena. I've even stained my hands with blood only to end up here, destitute, exiled from my country, abandoned!
Encolpio: Who condemned me to be alone? Someone who bears the mark of all known vices who should be banished by his own admission. Ascyltus! A young man who gained his freedom and now keeps it, through whoring. Who gambled away his youth. Who sold himself as a woman, even when he'd be approached as a man.
Encolpio: That tart Giton, on the Day of the Virile Toga he wore a woman's stole. His mother had already convinced him not to act like a man. In jail he was a whore capable of forsaking the oldest friendships. Shame on him. He's a disgrace!
Encolpio: I loved you, Giton, and I still do. I can't share you with others, because you're part of me. You *are* me, you're my soul. My soul belongs to you. You're the sun, you're the sea, you're the gods.
Vernacchio: He's beautiful! And those muscles! He cost me 35 denari. A suckling pig weighing the same would cost a lot more!
Vernacchio: Sir, this boy is more than a wife. And what free citizen would sell his wife? He's neat. He's wise. I always come home to a lighted fire. And I'm training him in the great art of the stage. You'll see how well he'll play female roles: Helen of Memlaus, faithful Penelope, Cornelia. Such a treasure has no price!
Encolpio: I don't want to stand in the way of your plans, so to avoid competing with you, I'll go my own way.
Ascilto: Fine! So, let's divide our things. That's mine and so is this. The mirror is mine.
Encolpio: That's mine!
Ascilto: And now, let's divide up the boy.
Encolpio: Ascyltus, you must be joking.
Ascilto: Let's let him decide.
Eumolpo: The masterpieces you see in this gallery confirm our current lack of energy. Today no one would know how to paint like this. So what brought on this sad state? The desire for money!
Eumolpo: Once upon a time, man's ideal was virtue, pure and simple. That's why the liberal arts flourished. Exdoxus grew old on a mountain studying the movement of the planets. Lysippus kept drawing the same model his whole life and died of hunger. But we, with our drinking and whoring, don't even know the masterpieces that exist now.
Eumolpo: What about dialectical discussion? What happened to astronomy? Where is philosophy that once led the way for us?
Eumolpo: Don't be surprised that the art of painting is dead when we find more beauty in a pot of gold than in the works of Apelles and Phydias. Those crazy Greeks!
Trimalcione: Enough of this nonsense, Hermeros. Have some patience. The boy's young and his blood is hot. When you were a young cock, you crowed, too.
Trimalcione: You female pile of shit! I bought you at the slave market. I turned you into a human being!
Fortunata: What are you talking about? You bought *me*?
Trimalcione: Habinnas, take her statue out of my mausoleum. Otherwise, we'll still be at each other when we're dead. You battle-axe!
Trimalcione: I built her a palace, but listen to her! She's puffed-up like a frog! But, I'll make you bite your tongue!
Trimalcione: Remember, you owe all this luxurious living to me! I endured my master's advances for 14 years. What's wrong with that? The master gives the orders! I entertained the mistress, too. By the will of the gods I ended up sharing the Emperor's inheritance. I built five ships and filled them with lard, perfume and slaves. That started my fortune: everything I touched turned to gold. I was a cockroach, now I'm a king. That's life.
Eumolpo: Poets may die, Encolpius. But it doesn't matter, if poetry remains.
Eumolpo: I leave you poetry. I leave you the seasons, especially spring and summer. I leave you the wind, the sun. I leave you the sea, the good sea. The earth is good, too. The mountains, streams, and rivers. And the big clouds that move by solemn and light. You'll look at them and maybe remember our brief friendship. And I leave you the trees and their agile inhabitants. Love, tears, joy, stars, Encolpius. I leave you sounds, songs, noises. The voice of man, which is the most harmonious of music. I leave you.
Encolpio: What did the poet used to say? "As for me, I have always lived to enjoy the present moment as if it were the last sunrise."
Nymphomaniac's Foreign Servant: Our mistress - very sick, unhappy. She need man all time. She more hungry than starving she-wolf. Husband give up hope. But what can he do? She need men - always new one. Mechin say you are good for mistress. Oh, make her happy. Husband generous - give you gifts.
Nymphomaniac's Foreign Servant: Tomorrow we take mistress see oracle. You know Hermaphrodite, child of gods? He little girl, but boy, too. Make many magics. People with plague cured. See our future. He up in the old temple of Ceres.
Proconsole: That beautiful woman is real. She's no joke. You have earned her, Encolpius. Go face Ariadne. At least you can lick *her*! Go on, Encolpius - make her happy!
Eumolpo: Luxury, riches, beautiful women. Tasty suppers that last until the cock crows. Weaknesses that dull the heart and mind. Vices never rejected and always accepted. In short, all this happiness has infected me.
Eumolpo: You, who are not only penniless, are also somewhat crippled, my friend. I saw you, you know. You looked like a drowned mouse on top of a cow. But it was a very beautiful cow - all meat.
Eumolop's Servant: No more drinking.
Eumolpo: Priapus is angry with you - that's obvious. He's a spiteful god. First he makes you as hard as a log, then as soft as dough. But there are remedies. Your Eumolpius will cure you.
Eumolpo: Eros protects me and always gives me proof of his friendship.
Eumolpo: So many positions and certainly more to invent. Man makes daily progress. I think I've tried them all, although, old age has made me forget a few. No one can remember all the love he's given and received, not even the young. Do you, for example, remember everyone who's kissed your lips?
Eumolpo: Listen, I have a friend here, uh, just between us, whose sceptre isn't working. He was quite proud of it, as you can understand.