Catullus. · 1

I.

Who shall take thee, the new, the dainty volume, Purfled glossily, fresh with ashy pumice?

You, Cornelius; you of old did hold them Something worthy, the petty witty nothings,

While you venture, alone of all Italians, 5 Time’s vast chronicle in three books to circle, Jove! how arduous, how divinely learned!

Therefore welcome it, yours the little outcast, This slight volume. O yet, supreme awarder, Virgin, save it in ages on for ever. 10

II.

Sparrow, favourite of my own beloved, Whom to play with, or in her arms to fondle, She delighteth, anon with hardy-pointed Finger angrily doth provoke to bite her:

When my lady, a lovely star to long for, 5 Bends her splendour awhile to tricksy frolic; Peradventure a careful heart beguiling, Pardie, heavier ache perhaps to lighten;

Might I, like her, in happy play caressing Thee, my dolorous heart awhile deliver! 10 . . . . . . . . I would joy, as of old the maid rejoiced Racing fleetly, the golden apple eyeing, Late-won loosener of the wary girdle.

III.

Weep each heavenly Venus, all the Cupids, Weep all men that have any grace about ye. Dead the sparrow, in whom my love delighted, The dear sparrow, in whom my love delighted.

Yea, most precious, above her eyes, she held him, 5 Sweet, all honey: a bird that ever hail’d her Lady mistress, as hails the maid a mother.

Nor would move from her arms away: but only Hopping round her, about her, hence or hither, Piped his colloquy, piped to none beside her. 10

Now he wendeth along the mirky pathway, Whence, they tell us, is hopeless all returning.

Evil on ye, the shades of evil Orcus, Shades all beauteous happy things devouring, Such a beauteous happy bird ye took him. 15

Ah! for pity; but ah! for him the sparrow, Our poor sparrow, on whom to think my lady’s Eyes do angrily redden all a-weeping.

IV.

1.

The puny pinnace yonder you, my friends, discern, Of every ship professes agilest to be. Nor yet a timber o’er the waves alertly flew She might not aim to pass it; oary-wing’d alike To fleet beyond them, or to scud beneath a sail. 5

Nor here presumes denial any stormy coast Of Adriatic or the Cyclad orbed isles, A Rhodos immemorial, or that icy Thrace, Propontis, or the gusty Pontic ocean-arm,

Whereon, a pinnace after, in the days of yore 10 A leafy shaw she budded; oft Cytorus’ height With her did inly whisper airy colloquy.

2.

Amastris, you by Pontus, you, the box-clad hill Of high Cytorus, all, the pinnace owns, to both Was ever, is familiar; in the primal years 15 She stood upon your hoary top, a baby tree, Within your haven early dipt a virgin oar:

To carry thence a master o’er the surly seas, A world of angry water, hail’d to left, to right The breeze of invitation, or precisely set 20 The sheets together op’d to catch a kindly Jove.

Nor yet of any power whom the coasts adore Was heard a vow to soothe them, all the weary way From outer ocean unto glassy quiet here.

But all the past is over; indolently now 25 She rusts, a life in autumn, and her age devotes To Castor and with him ador’d, the twin divine.

V.

Living, Lesbia, we should e’en be loving. Sour severity, tongue of eld maligning, All be to us a penny’s estimation.

Suns set only to rise again to-morrow. We, when sets in a little hour the brief light, 5 Sleep one infinite age, a night for ever.

Thousand kisses, anon to these an hundred, Thousand kisses again, another hundred, Thousand give me again, another hundred.

Then once heedfully counted all the thousands, 10 We’ll uncount them as idly; so we shall not Know, nor traitorous eye shall envy, knowing All those myriad happy many kisses.

VI.

But that, Flavius, hardly nice or honest This thy folly, methinks Catullus also E’en had known it, a whisper had betray’d thee.

Some she-malady, some unhealthy wanton, Fires thee verily: thence the shy denial. 5

Least, you keep not a lonely night of anguish; Quite too clamorous is that idly-feigning Couch, with wreaths, with a Syrian odour oozing; Then that pillow alike at either utmost Verge deep-dinted asunder, all the trembling 10 Play, the strenuous unsophistication; All, O prodigal, all alike betray thee.

Why? sides shrunken, a sullen hip disabled, Speak thee giddy, declare a misdemeanour.

So, whatever is yours to tell or ill or 15 Good, confess it. A witty verse awaits thee And thy lady, to place ye both in heaven.

VII.

Ask me, Lesbia, what the sum delightful Of thy kisses, enough to charm, to tire me?

Multitudinous as the grains on even Lybian sands aromatic of Cyrene;

‘Twixt Jove’s oracle in the sandy desert 5 And where royally Battus old reposeth;

Yea a company vast as in the silence Stars which stealthily gaze on happy lovers;

E’en so many the kisses I to kiss thee Count, wild lover, enough to charm, to tire me; 10

These no curious eye can wholly number, Tongue of jealousy ne’er bewitch nor harm them.

VIII.

Ah poor Catullus, learn to play the fool no more. Lost is the lost, thou know’st it, and the past is past.

Bright once the days and sunny shone the light on thee, Still ever hasting where she led, the maid so fair, By me belov’d as maiden is belov’d no more. 5

Was then enacting all the merry mirth wherein Thyself delighted, and the maid she said not nay. Ah truly bright and sunny shone the days on thee.

Now she resigns thee; child, do thou resign no less, Nor follow her that flies thee, or to bide in woe 10 Consent, but harden all thy heart, resolve, endure.

Farewell, my love. Catullus is resolv’d, endures, He will not ask for pity, will not importune.

But thou’lt be mourning thus to pine unask’d alway. O past retrieval faithless! Ah what hours are thine! 15 When comes a likely wooer? who protests thou’rt fair?

Who brooks to love thee? who decrees to live thine own? Whose kiss delights thee? whose the lips that own thy bite? Yet, yet, Catullus, learn to bear, resolve, endure.

IX.

Dear Veranius, you of all my comrades Worth, you only, a many goodly thousands,

Speak they truly that you your hearth revisit, Brothers duteous, homely mother aged?

Yes, believe them. O happy news, Catullus! 5

I shall see him alive, alive shall hear him, Tribes Iberian, uses, haunts, declaring

As his wont is; on him my neck reclining Kiss his flowery face, his eyes delightful.

Now, all men that have any mirth about you, 10 Know ye happier any, any blither?

X.

In the Forum as I was idly roaming Varus took me a merry dame to visit. She a lady, methought upon the moment, Of some quality, not without refinement.

1.

So, arrived, in a trice we fell on endless 5 Themes colloquial; how the fact, the falsehood With Bithynia, what the case about it, Had it helped me to profit or to money.

Then I told her a very truth; no atom There for company, praetor, hungry natives, 10 Home might render a body aught the fatter:

Then our praetor a castaway, could hugely Mulct his company, had a taste to jeer them.

2.

Spoke another, ‘Yet anyways, to bear you Men were ready, enough to grace a litter. 15 They grow quantities, if report belies not.’ Then supremely myself to flaunt before her,

I ‘So thoroughly could not angry fortune Spite, I might not, afflicted in my province, Get erected a lusty eight to bear me. 20

But so scrubby the poor sedan, the batter’d Frame-work, nobody there nor here could ever Lift it, painfully neck to nick adjusting.’

3.

Quoth the lady, belike a lady wanton, ‘Just for courtesy, lend me, dear Catullus, 25 Those same nobodies. I the great Sarapis Go to visit awhile.’ Said I in answer,

‘Thanks; but, lady, for all my easy boasting, ‘Twas too summary; there’s a friend who knows me, Cinna Gaius, his the sturdy bearers. 30

‘Mine or Cinna’s, an inch alone divides us, I use Cinna’s, as e’en my own possession. But you’re really a bore, a very tiresome Dame unmannerly, thus to take me napping.’

XI.

Furius and Aurelius, O my comrades, Whether your Catullus attain to farthest Ind, the long shore lash’d by reverberating Surges Eoan; Hyrcan or luxurious horde Arabian, 5 Sacan or grim Parthian arrow-bearer, Fields the rich Nile discolorates, a seven-fold River abounding; Whether o’er high Alps he afoot ascending Track the long records of a mighty Caesar, 10 Rhene, the Gauls’ deep river, a lonely Britain Dismal in ocean; This, or aught else haply the gods determine, Absolute, you, with me in all to part not; Bid my love greet, bear her a little errand, 15 Scarcely of honour. Say ‘Live on yet, still given o’er to nameless Lords, within one bosom, a many wooers, Clasp’d, as unlov’d each, so in hourly change all Lewdly disabled. 20 ‘Think not henceforth, thou, to recal Catullus’ Love; thy own sin slew it, as on the meadow’s Verge declines, ungently beneath the plough-share Stricken, a flower.’

XII.

Marrucinian Asinius, hardly civil Left-hand practices o’er the merry wine-cup. Watch occasion, anon remove the napkin. Call this drollery? Trust me, friend, it is not. ‘Tis most beastly, a trick among a thousand. 5

Not believe me? believe a friendly brother, Laughing Pollio; he declares a talent Poor indemnification, he the parlous Child of voluble humour and facetious.

So face hendecasyllables, a thousand, 10 Or most speedily send me back the napkin; Gift not prized at a sorry valuation, But for company; ‘twas a friend’s memento.

Cloth of Saetabis, exquisite, from utmost Iber, sent as a gift to me Fabullus 15 And Veranius. Ought not I to love them As Veranius even, as Fabullus?

XIII.

Please kind heaven, in happy time, Fabullus, We’ll dine merrily, dear my friend, together.

Promise only to bring, your own, a dinner Rich and goodly; withal a lily maiden, Wine, and banter, a world of hearty laughing. 5

Promise only; betimes we dine, my gentle Friend, most merrily; but, for your Catullus-- Know he boasts but a pouch of empty cobwebs.

Yet take contrary fee, the quintessential Love, or sweeter if aught is, aught supremer, 10

Perfume savoury, mine; my love received it Gift of every Venus, all the Cupids.

Would you smell it? a god shall hear Fabullus Pray unbody him only nose for ever.

XIV.

Calvus, save that as eyes thou art beloved, I could verily loathe thee for the morning’s Gift, Vatinius hardly more devoutly.

Slain with poetry! done to death with abjects! O what syllable earn’d it, act allow’d it? 5 Gods, your malison on the sorry client Sent that rascally rabble of malignants.

Yet, if, freely to guess, the gift recherche Some grammarian, haply Sulla, sent thee; I repine not; a dear delight, a triumph 10 This, thy drudgery thus to see rewarded.

Gods! an horrible and a deadly volume!

Sent so faithfully, friend, to thy Catullus, Just to kill him upon a day, the festive, Saturnalia, best of all the season. 15 Sure, a drollery not without requital.

For, come dawn, to the cases and the bookshops I; there gather a Caesius and Aquinus, With Suffenus, in every wretch a poison: Such plague-prodigy thy remuneration! 20

Now good-morrow! away with evil omen Whence ill destiny lamely bore ye, clumsy Poet-rabble, an age’s execration!

XIVB.

Readers, any that in the future ever Scan my fantasies, haply lay upon me Hands adventurous of solicitation--

XV.

Lend thy bounty to me, to my beloved, Kind Aurelius. I do ask a favour

Fair and lawful; if you did e’er in earnest Seek some virginal innocence to cherish, Touch not lewdly the mistress of my passion. 5

Trust the people; avails not aught to fear them, Such, who hourly within the streets repassing, Run, good souls, on a busy quest or idle.

You, you only the free, the felon-hearted, Fright me, prodigal you of every virtue. 10

Well, let luxury run her heady riot, Love flow over; enough abroad to sate thee: This one trespass--a tiny boon--presume not.

But should impious heat or humour headstrong Drive thee wilfully, wretch, to such profaning, 15 In one folly to dare a double outrage:

Ah what misery thine; what angry fortune! Heels drawn tight to the stretch shall open inward Lodgment easy to mullet and to radish.

XVI.

I’ll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you, Soft Aurelius, e’en as easy Furius. You that lightly a saucy verse resenting, Misconceit me, sophisticate me wanton.

Know, pure chastity rules the godly poet, 5 Rules not poesy, needs not e’er to rule it; Charms some verse with a witty grace delightful? ‘Tis voluptuous, impudent, a wanton.

It shall kindle an icy thought to courage, Not boy-fancies alone, but every frozen 10 Flank immovable, all amort to pleasure.

You my kisses, a million happy kisses, Musing, read me a silky thrall to softness? I’ll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you.

XVII.

1.

Kind Colonia, fain upon bridge more lengthy to gambol, And quite ready to dance amain, fearing only the rotten Legs too crazily steadied on planks of old resurrections, Lest it plunge to the deep morass, there supinely to welter; So surprise thee a sumptuous bridge thy fancy to pleasure, 5 Passive under a Salian god’s most lusty procession; This rare favour, a laugh for all time, Colonia, grant me.

In my township a citizen lives: Catullus adjures thee Headlong into the mire below topsy-turvy to drown him. Only, where the superfluent lake, the spongy putrescence, 10 Sinks most murkily flushed, descends most profoundly the bottom.

Such a ninny, a fool is he; witless even as any Two years’ urchin, across papa’s elbow drowsily swaying.

2.

For though wed to a maiden in spring-tide youthfully budding, Maiden crisp as a petulant kid, as airily wanton, 15 Sweets more privy to guard than e’er grape-bunch shadowy-purpling; He, he leaves her alone to romp idly, cares not a fouter. Nor leans to her at all, the man’s part; but helpless as alder Lies, new-fell’d in a ditch, beneath axe Ligurian ham-strung, As alive to the world, as if world nor wife were at issue. 20

Such this gaby, my own, my arch fool; he sees not, he hears not Who himself is, or if the self is, or is not, he knows not.

Him I’d gladly be lowering down thy bridge to the bottom, If from stupor inanimate peradventure he wake him, Leaving muddy behind him his sluggish heart’s hesitation, 25 As some mule in a glutinous sludge her rondel of iron.

XXI.

Sire and prince-patriarch of hungry starvelings, Lean Aurelius, all that are, that have been, That shall ever in after years be famish’d;

Wouldst thou lewdly my dainty love to folly Tempt, and visibly? thou be near, be joking 5 Cling and fondle, a hundred arts redouble?

O presume not: a wily wit defeated Pays in scandalous incapacitation.

Yet didst folly to fulness add, ‘twere all one; Now shall beauty to thirst be train’d or hunger’s 10 Grim necessity; this is all my sorrow.

Then hold, wanton, upon the verge; to-morrow Comes preposterous incapacitation.

XXII.

Suffenus, he, dear Varus, whom, methinks, you know, Has sense, a ready tongue to talk, a wit urbane, And writes a world of verses, on my life no less.

Ten times a thousand he, believe me, ten or more, Keeps fairly written; not on any palimpsest, 5 As often, enter’d, paper extra-fine, sheets new, New every roller, red the strings, the parchment-case Lead-rul’d, with even pumice all alike complete.

You read them: our choice spirit, our refin’d rare wit, Suffenus, O no ditcher e’er appeared more rude, 10 No looby coarser; such a shock, a change is there.

How then resolve this puzzle? He the birthday-wit, For so we thought him--keener yet, if aught is so-- Becomes a dunce more boorish e’en than hedge-born boor, If e’er he faults on verses; yet in heart is then 15 Most happy, writing verses, happy past compare, So sweet his own self, such a world at home finds he.

Friend, ‘tis the common error; all alike are wrong, Not one, but in some trifle you shall eye him true Suffenus; each man bears from heaven the fault they send, 20 None sees within the wallet hung behind, our own.

XXIII.

Needy Furius, house nor hoard possessing, Bug or spider, or any fire to thaw you, Yet most blest in a father and a step-dame, Each for penury fit to tooth a flint-stone: Is not happiness yours? a home united? 5 Son, sire, mother, a lathy dame to match him.

Who can wonder? in all is health, digestion, Pure and vigorous, hours without a trouble. Fires ye fear not, or house’s heavy downfal, Deeds unnatural, art in act to poison, 10 Dangers myriad accidents befalling.

Then your bodies? in every limb a shrivell’d Horn, all dryness in all the world whatever, Tann’d or frozen or icy-lean with ages. Sure superlative happiness surrounds thee. 15 Thee sweat frets not, an o’er-saliva frets not, Frets not snivel or oozy rheumy nostril.

Yet such purity lacks not e’en a purer. White those haunches as any cleanly-silver’d Salt, it takes you a month to barely dirt them. 20 Then like beans, or inert as e’er a pebble, Those impeccable heavy loins, a finger’s Breadth from apathy ne’er seduced to riot.

Such prosperity, such superb profusion, Slight not, Furius, idly nor reject not. 25 As for sesterces, all the would-be fortune, Cease to wish it; enough, methinks, the present.

XXIV.

O thou blossom of all the race Juventian Not now only, but all as yet arisen, All to flower in after-years arising;

Midas’ treasury better you presented Him that owns not a slave nor any coffer, 5 Ere you suffer his alien arm’s presuming.

What? you fancy him all refin’d perfection? Perfect! truly, without a slave, a coffer.

Slight, reject it, away with it; for all that He, he owns not a slave nor any coffer. 10

XXV.

Smooth Thallus, inly softer you than any furry rabbit, Or glossy goose’s oily plumes, or velvet earlap yielding, Or feeble age’s heavy thighs, or flimsy filthy cobweb;

And Thallus, hungry rascal you, as hurricane rapacious, When winks occasion on the stroke, the gulls agape declaring: 5

Return the mantle home to me, you watch’d your hour to pilfer, The fleecy napkin and the rings from Thynia quaintly graven, Whatever you parade as yours, vain fool, a sham reversion:

Unglue the nails adroit to steal, unclench the spoil, deliver, Lest yet that haunch voluptuous, those tender hands caressant, 10 Should take an ugly print severe, the scourge’s heavy branding;

And strange to bruises you should heave, as heaves in open Ocean, Some little hoy surprised adrift, when wails the windy water.

XXVI.

Draughts, dear Furius, if my villa faces, ‘Tis not showery south, nor airy wester, North’s grim fury, nor east; ‘tis only fifteen Thousand sesterces, add two hundred over. Draft unspeakable, icy, pestilential! 5

XXVII.

Boy, young caterer of Falernian olden, Brim me cups of a fiercer harsher essence; So Postumia, queen of healths presiding, Bids, less thirsty the thirsty grape, the toper. But dull water, avaunt. Away the wine-cup’s 5 Sullen enemy; seek the sour, the solemn! Here Thyonius hails his own elixir.

XXVIII.

Starving company, troop of hungry Piso, Light of luggage, of outfit expeditious, You, Veranius, you, my own Fabullus,

Say, what fortune? enough of empty masters, Frost and famine, a lingering probation? 5

Stands your diary fair? is any profit Enter’d given? as I to serve a praetor Count each beggarly gift a timely profit.

Trust me, Memmius, you did aptly finger My passivity, fool’d me most supinely. 10

Friends, confess it; in e’en as hard a fortune You stand mulcted, on you a like abashless Rake rides heavily. Court the great who wills it!

Gods and goddesses evil heap upon ye, Rogues to Romulus and to Remus outcast. 15

XXIX.

Can any brook to see it, any tamely bear-- If any, gamester, epicure, a wanton, he-- Mamurra’s own whatever all the curly Gauls Did else inherit, or the lonely Briton isle? Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus? 5

Shall he, in o’er-assumption, o’er-repletion he, Sedately saunter every dainty couch along, A bright Adonis, as the snowy dove serene? Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus? Look idly, gamester, epicure, a wanton, you. 10

Unique commander, and was only this the plea Detain’d you in that islet angle of the west, To gorge the shrunk seducer irreclaimable With haply twice a million, add a million yet? What else was e’er unhealthy prodigality? 15

The waste? to lust a little? on the belly less? Begin; a glutted hoard paternal; ebb the first. To this, the booty Pontic; add the spoil from out Iberia, known to Tagus’ amber ory stream. Not only Gaul, nor only quail the Briton isles. 20

What help a rogue to fondle? is not all his act To swallow monies, empty purses heap on heap? But you--to please him only, shame to Rome, to me! Could you the son, the father, idly ruin all?

XXX.

False Alfenus, in all amity frail, duty a prodigal, Doth thy pity depart? Shall not a friend, traitor, a friend recal

Love? what courage is here me to betray, me to repudiate? . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Never sure did a lie, never a sin, please the celestials.

This you heed not; alas! leave me to new misery, desolate. (5) O where now shall a man trust? liveth yet any fidelity?

You, you only did urge love to be free, life to surrender, you. Guiding into the snare, falsely secure, prophet of happiness. 10

Now you leave me, retract, every deed, every word allow Into nullity winds far to remove, vapoury clouds to bear. (10)

You forget me, but yet surely the Gods, surely remembereth Faith; hereafter again honour awakes, causeth a wretch to rue.

XXXI.

O thou of islands jewel and of half-islands, Fair Sirmio, whatever o’er the lakes’ clear rim Or waste of ocean, Neptune holds, a two-fold pow’r; What joy have I to see thee, and to gaze what glee!

Scarce yet believing Thunia past, the fair champaign 5 Bithunian, yet in safety thee to greet once more. From cares to part us--where is any joy like this?

Then drops the soul her fardel, as the travel-tir’d World-weary wand’rer touches home, returns, sinks down In joy to slumber on the bed desir’d so long. 10 This meed, this only counts for e’en an age all toil.

O take a welcome, lovely Sirmio, thy lord’s, And greet him happy; greet him all the lake Lydian; Laugh out whatever laughter at the hearth rings clear.

XXXII.

List, I charge thee, my gentle Ipsithilla, Lovely ravisher and my dainty mistress, Say we’ll linger a lazy noon together.

Suits my company? lend a farther hearing: See no jealousy make the gate against me, 5 See no fantasy lead thee out a-roaming. Keep close chamber; anon in all profusion Count me kisses again again returning.

Bides thy will? with a sudden haste command me; Full and wistful, at ease reclin’d, a lover 10 Here I languish alone, supinely dreaming.

XXXIII.

Master-robber of all that haunt the bath-rooms, Old Vibennius, and his heir the wanton; (His the dirtier hands, the greedy father, Yours the filthier heart, his heir as hungry;)

Please your knaveries hoist a sail for exile, 5 Pains and privacy? since by this the father’s Thefts are palpable, and a rusty favour, Son, picks never a penny from the people.

XXXIV.

Great Diana protecteth us, Maids and boyhood in innocence. Maidens virtuous, innocent Boys, your song be Diana. Hail, Latonia, thou that art 5 Throned daughter of enthronis’d Jove; near Delian olive of Mighty mother y-boren. Queen of mountainous heights, of all Forests leafy, delightable; 10 Glens in bowery depths remote, Rivers wrathfully sounding. Thee, Lucina, the travailing Mother haileth, a sovereign Juno; Trivia thou, the bright 15 Moon, a glory reflected. Thou thine annual orb anew, Goddess, monthly remeasuring, Farmsteads lowly with affluent Corn dost fill to the flowing. 20 Be thy heavenly name whate’er Name shall please thee, in hallowing; Still keep safely the glorious Race of Romulus olden.

XXXV.

1.

Take Caecilius, him the tender-hearted Bard, my paper, a wish from his Catullus. Come from Larius, haste to leave the new-built Comum’s watery city, seek Verona.

Some particular intimate reflexions 5 One would tell thee, a friend we love together.

2.

So he’ll quickly devour the way, if only He’s no booby; for all a snowy maiden Chide imperious, and her hands around him Both in jealousy clasp’d, refuse departure. 10

She, if only report the truth bely not, Doats, as hardly within her own possession.

3.

For since lately she read his high-preluding Queen of Dindymus, all her heart is ever Melting inly with ardour and with anguish. 15

Maiden, laudable is that high emotion, Muse more rapturous, you, than any Sappho. The Great Mother he surely sings divinely.

XXXVI.

1.

Vilest paper of all dishonour, annals Of Volusius, hear my lovely lady’s

Vow, and pay it; awhile she swore to Venus And fond Cupid, if ever I returning Ceased from enmity, left to launch iambics, 5

She would surely devote the sorry poet’s Choicest rarities unto sooty Vulcan, The lame deity, there to blaze lamenting.

With such drollery, such supreme defiance, Swore strange oath to the gods the naughty wanton. 10

2.

Now, O heavenly child of azure Ocean, Queen of Idaly, queen of Urian highlands,

Who Ancona the fair, the reedy Cnidos Hauntest, Amathus and the lawny Golgi, Or Dyrrhachium, hostel Adriatic; 15

Hear thy votaress, answer her petition; ‘Tis most graceful, a dainty thought to charm thee.

But ye verses, away to fire, to burning, Rank rusticities, empty vapid annals Of Volusius, heap of all dishonour. 20

XXXVII.

1.

O frowsy tavern, frowsy fellowship therein, Ninth post in order next beyond the twins cap-crown’d,

Shall manly service none but you alone employ, Shall you alone whatever in the world smiles fair, Possess it, every other hold to lack esteem? 5

Or if in idiot impotence arow you sit, One hundred, yes two hundred, am not I, think you, A man to bring mine action on your whole row there?

So think not, he that likes not; answer how you may, With scorpion I, with emblem all your haunt will scrawl. 10

2.

For she the bright one, lately fled beyond these arms, The maid belov’d as maiden is belov’d no more, Whom I to win, stood often in the breach, fought long,

Has sat amongst you. Her the grand, the great, all, all Do dearly love her; yea, beshrew the damned wrong, 15 Each slight seducer, every lounger highway-born,

You chiefly, peerless paragon of the tribe long-lock’d, Rude Celtiberia’s child, the bushy rabbit-den,

Egnatius, so modish in the big bush-beard, And teeth a native lotion hardly scours quite pure. 20

XXXVIII.

Cornificius, ill is your Catullus, Ill, ah heaven, a weary weight of anguish, More more weary with every day, with each hour.

You deny me the least, the very lightest Help, one whisper of happy thought to cheer me. 5

Nay, I’m sorrowful. You to slight my passion? Ah! one word, but a tiny word to cheer me, Sad as ever a tear Simonidean.

XXXIX.

1.

Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth, Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in view Where stands a pleader just prepar’d to rouse our tears,

Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn Where weeps a mother o’er the lost, the kind one son, 5 Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or place

Or thing soe’er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaint Is his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.

2.

So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine, 10 A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,

A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth’d, A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax’d, In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,

Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not, 15 For silly laughter, it’s a silly thing indeed.

3.

Well: you’re a Celtiberian; in the parts thereby What pass’d the night in water, every man, come dawn, Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;

So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine, 20 So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.

XL.

What fatality, what chimera drives thee Headlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?

What fell deity, most malign to listen, Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?

Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people? 5 Break with clamour at any cost the silence?

Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop’d my darling Love to fondle, a sure retaliation.

XLI.

Ameana, the maiden of the people, Asks me sesterces, all the many thousands.

Maiden she with a nose not wholly faultless, Bankrupt Formian, your declar’d devotion.

Wherefore look to the maiden, her relations: 5 Call her family, summon all the doctors.

Your poor maiden is oddly touch’d; a mirror Sure would lend her a soberer reflexion.

XLII.

1.

Come all hendecasyllables whatever, Wheresoever ye house you, all whatever.

I the game of an impudent adultress? She refuse to return to me the tablets Where you syllable? O ye can’t be silent. 5 Up, have after her, ask renunciation.

Would ye know her? a woman, you shall eye her Strutting loftily, whiles she laughs a loud laugh Vast and vulgar, a Gaulish hound beseeming. Form your circle about her, ask her, urge her. 10

‘Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over. Hark, the note-book, adultress, hand it over.’

2.

What? you scorn us? O ugly filth, detested Trull, whatever is all abomination.

Nay then, louder. Enough as yet it is not. 15 If this only remains, perhaps the dog-like Face may colour, a brassy blush may yield us. Swell your voices in higher harsher yellings,

‘Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over; Hark, the note-book; adultress, hand it over.’ 20

Look, she moves not at all: we waste the moments. Change your quality, try another issue. Such composure a sweeter air may alter. ‘Pure and virtuous, hand the note-book over.’

XLIII.

Hail, fair virgin, a nose among the larger, Feet not dainty, nor eyes to match a raven, Mouth scarce tenible, hands not wholly faultless, Tongue most surely not absolute refinement, Bankrupt Formian, your declar’d devotion. 5 Thou the beauty, the talk of all the province? Thou my Lesbia tamely think to rival? O preposterous, empty generation!

XLIV.

O thou my Sabine farmstead or my Tiburtine, For who Catullus would not harm, avow, kind souls, Thou surely art at Tibur; and who quarrel will Sabine declare thee, stake the world to prove their say:

But be’st a Sabine, be’st a very Tiburtine, 5 At thy suburban villa what delight I knew To spit the tiresome cough away, my lungs’ ill guest, My belly brought me, not without a sad weak sin, Because a costly dinner I desir’d too much.

For I, to feast with Sestius, that host unmatch’d, 10 A speech of his, pure poison, every line deep-drugg’d, His speech against the plaintiff Antius, read through.

Whereat a cold chill, soon a gusty cough in fits, Shook, shook me ever, till to thy retreat I fled, There duly dosed with nettle and repose found cure. 15 So, now recruited, thanks superlative, dear farm, I give thee, who so lightly didst avenge that sin.

And trust me, farm, if ever I again take up With Sextius’ black charges, I’ll rebel no more; But let the chill things damn to cold, to cough, not me 20 That read the volume--no, but him, the man’s vain self.

XLV.

1.

While Septimius in his arms his Acme Fondled closely, ‘My own,’ said he, ‘my Acme,

If I love not as unto death, nor hold me Ever faithfully well-prepar’d to largest Strain of fiery wooer yet to love thee, 5

Then in Libya, then may I alone in Burning India face a sulky lion.’

Scarce he ended, upon the right did eager Love sneeze amity; ‘twas before to leftward.

2.

Acme quietly back her head reclining 10 Towards her boy, with a rosy mouth delightful Kissed his passionate eyes elately swimming,

Then ‘Septimius, O my life’ she murmur’d, ‘So may he that is in this hour ascendant

Rule us ever, as in me burns a greater 15 Fire, a fiercer, in every vein triumphing.’

Scarce she ended, upon the right did eager Love sneeze amity; ‘twas before to leftward.

3.

So, that augury joyous each possessing, Loves, is lov’d with an even emulation. 20

Poor Septimius, all to please his Acme, Recks not Syria, recks not any Britain.

In Septimius only faithful Acme Makes her softnesses, holds her happy pleasures.

When did mortal on any so rejoicing 25 Look, on union hallow’d as divinely?

XLVI.

Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth, Now doth Zephyrus, health benignly breathing, Still the boisterous equinoctial heaven.

Leave we Phrygia, leave the plains, Catullus, Leave Nicaea, the sultry soil of harvest: 5 On for Asia, for the starry cities. Now all flurry the soul is out a-ranging, Now with vigour aflame the feet renew them.

Farewell company true, my lovely comrades. You so joyfully borne from home together, 10 Now o’er many a weary way returning.

XLVII.

Porcius, Socration, the greedy Piso’s Tools of thievery, rogues to famish ages,

So that filthy Priapus ousts to please you My Veranius even and Fabullus?

What? shall you then at early noon carousing 5 Lap in luxury? they, my jolly comrades, Search the streets on a quest of invitation?

XLVIII.

If, Juventius, I the grace win ever Still on beauteous honied eyes to kiss thee, I would kiss them a million, yet a million.

Yea, nor count me to win the full attainment, Not, tho’ heavier e’en than ears at harvest, 5 Fall my kisses, a wealthy crop delightful.

XLIX.

Greatest speaker of any born a Roman, Marcus Tullius, all that are, that have been, That shall ever in after-years be famous;

Thanks superlative unto thee Catullus Renders, easily last among the poets. 5

He as easily last among the poets As thou surely the first among the pleaders.

L.

1.

Dear Lucinius, yestereve we linger’d Scrawling fancies, a hundred, in my tablets, Wits in combat; a treaty this between us.

Scribbling drolleries each of us together Launched one arrowy metre and another, 5 Tenders jocular o’er the merry wine-cup.

2.

So quite sorely with all your humour heated Gay Lucinius, I that eve departed.

Food my misery could not any lighten, Sleep nor quiet upon my eyes descended. 10

Still untamable o’er the couch did I then Turn and tumble, in haste to see the day-light, Hear your prattle again, again be with you.

3.

Then, when weary with all the worry, numb’d, dead, Sank my body, upon the bed reposing, 15 This, O humorous heart, did I, a poem Write, my tedious anguish all revealing.

O beware then of hardihood; a lover’s Plea for charity, dear my friend, reject not: What if Nemesis haply claim repayment? 20 She is tyrannous. O beware offending.

LI.

He to me like unto the Gods appeareth, He, if I dare speak it, ascends above them, Face to face who toward thee attently sitting Gazes or hears thee

Lovely in sweet laughter; alas within me 5 Every lost sense falleth away for anguish; When as I look’d on thee, upon my lips no Whisper abideth, Straight my tongue froze, Lesbia; soon a subtle Fire thro’ each limb streameth adown; with inward 10 Sound the full ears tinkle, on either eye night’s Canopy darkens. Ease alone, Catullus, alone afflicts thee; Ease alone breeds error of heady riot; Ease hath entomb’d princes of old renown and 15 Cities of honour.

LII.

Enough, Catullus! how can you delay to die? If in the curule chair a hump sits, Nonius; A would-be consul lies in hope, Vatinius; Enough, Catullus! how can you delay to die?

LIII.

How I laughed at a wag amid the circle! He, when Calvus in high denunciation Of Vatinius had declaim’d divinely, Hands uplifted as in supreme amazement, Cried ‘God bless us! a wordy cockalorum!’ 5

LIV.

Otho’s head is a very dwarf; a rustic’s Shanks has Herius, only semi-cleanly; Libo’s airs to a fume of art refine them. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Yet thou flee’st not above my keen iambics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [So may destiny doom me quite to silence] As I care not if every line offend thee 10 And Sufficius, age in youth’s revival. . . . . . . . . Thou shalt kindle at innocent iambics, Mighty general, once again returning.

LV.

1.

List, I beg, provided you’re in humour, Speak your privacy, show what alley veils you. You I sought on Campus, I, the lesser, You on Circus, in all the bills but you, sir. You with father Jove in holy temple. 5 Then, where flocks the parade to Magnus’ arches,

Friend, I hail’d each lady promenader, Each, I found, did face me quite sedately.

2.

What? they steal, I loudly cried protesting, My Camerius? out upon the wenches! 10 Answer’d one and lightly bared a bosom, ‘See! what bowery roses; here he hides him.’

Yea ‘twould task e’en Hercules to bear you, You so scornful, friend, in your refusing.

3.

Not tho’ I were warder of the Cretans, 15 Not tho’ Pegasus on his airy pinion,

Perseus feathery-footed, I a Ladas, Rhesus’ chariot yok’d to snowy coursers, Add each feathery sandal, every flying Power, ask fleetness of all the winds of heaven, 20 Mine, Camerius, and to me devoted; Yet with drudgery sorely spent should I, yet

Worn, outworn with languor unto languor Faint, O friend, in an empty quest to find you.

4.

Say, where think you anon to be; declare it, 25 (15) Fair and free, submit, commit to daylight. What? still thrall to the lovely lily ladies? Keep close mouth, lock fast the tongue within it, Love’s felicity falls without fruition; Venus still is free to talk, a babbler. 30 (20) Yet close palate, an if ye will it; only In my love some part to bear refuse not.

LVII.

O rare sympathies! happy rakes united! There Mamurra the woman, here a Caesar.

Who can wonder? An ugly brand on either, His, true Formian, his, politely Roman, Rests indelible, in the bone residing. 5

Either infamous, each a twin dishonour, Bookish brethren, a dainty pair pedantic;

One adultrous, as hungry he; with equal Parts in women, a lusty corporation. O rare sympathies! happy rakes united! 10

LVIII.

That bright Lesbia, Caelius, the self-same Peerless Lesbia, she than whom Catullus Self nor family more devoutly cherish’d, By foul roads, or in every shameful alley, Strains the vigorous issue of the people. 5

LIX.

Poor Rufa from Bononia Rufulus gallants, Menenius’ errant lady, she that in grave-yards (You’ve seen her often) snaps from every pile her meal, When hotly chasing dusty loaves the fire rolls down, She felt some half-shorn corpseman and his hand’s big blow. 5

LX.

Hadst thou a Libyan lioness on heights all stone, A Scylla, barking wolvish at the loins’ last verge, To bear thee, O black-hearted, O to shame forsworn, That unto supplication in my last sad need Thou mightst not harken, deaf to ruth, a beast, no man? 5

LXI.

God, on verdurous Helicon Dweller, child of Urania, Thou that draw’st to the man the fair Maiden, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus: 5

Wreathe thy brows in amaracus’ Fragrant blossom; an aureat Veil be round thee; approach, in all Joy, approach with a luminous Foot, a sandal of amber. 10

Come, for jolly the time, awake. Chant in melody musical Hymns of bridal; on earth a foot Beating, hands to the winds above Torches oozily swinging. 15

Such, as she that on Idaly Venus dwelleth, appear’d before Him, the Phrygian arbiter, So with Mallius happily Happy Junia weddeth. 20

Like some myrtle of Asia Bright in airily blossoming Boughs, the wood Hamadryades Nurse with showery dew, to be Theirs, a tender plaything. 25

So come to us in haste; away, Leave thy Thespian hollow-arch’d Rock, muse-haunted, Aonian, Drench’d in spray from aloft, the cold Drift of Nymph Aganippe. 30

Homeward summon a sovereign Wife most passionate, holden in Love fast prisoner: ivy not Closer closes an elm around, Interchangeably trailing. 35

You too with him, O you for whom Comes as joyous a time, your own. Virgins stainless of heart, arise. Chant in unison, Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 40

That, more readily listening, Whiles your song to familiar Duty calls him, he hie apace, Lord of fair paramours, of youth’s Fair affection uniter. 45

Who more worthy than he to list Lovers wearily languishing? Bends from heaven a sovereign God adorabler? Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 50

You the father in years for his Child beseecheth; a virginal Zone falls slackly to earth for you, You half-fear in his hankering Lists the groomsman approaching. 55

You from motherly lap the bright Girl can sever; your hand divine Gives dominion, ushering Warm the lover. O Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 60

Nought delightful, if you be far, Nought unharmed of envious Tongues, Love wins him: if you be near Much he wins him. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 65

Houses cannot, if you be far, Yield their children, a babe renew Sire or mother: if you be near, Comes renewal. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 70

If your great ceremonial Fail, no champion yeomanry Guards the border. If you be near Arms the border. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 75

Fling the portal apart. The bride Waits. O see ye the luminous Torch-flakes ruddily flickering? . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nought she hears us: her innocent (80) Eyes do weep to be going. 85

Weep not, lady; for envious Tongue no lovelier owneth, Au- Runculeia; nor any more Fair saw rosily bright the dawn (85) Leave his chamber in Ocean. 90

Such in many a flowering Garden, trimm’d for a lord’s delight, Stands some delicate hyacinth. Yet you tarry. The day declines. (90) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 95

Forth, fair bride, to the people, if So it likes you, a-listening Words that please us. O eye ye yon Torches ruddily flickering? (95) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 100

Husband never of yours shall haunt Stained wanton, a mutinous Fancy shamefully following, Tire not ever, or e’er from your (100) Dainty bosom unyoke him. 105

He more lithe than a vine amid Trees, that, mazily folded, it Clasps and closes, in amorous Arms shall close thee. The day declines. (105) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 110

Couch of pleasure, _O odorous Couch, whose gorgeous apparellings, Silver-purple, on Indian Woods do rest them; adown_ the bright Feet in ivory glisten; 115

When thy lord in his hour attains, What large extasy, while the night (110) Fleets, or noon the meridian Passes thoro’. The day declines. Forth, fair bride, to the people. 120

Lift the torches aloft in air, Boys: the fiery veil is here. (115) Come, to measure your hymn rehearse. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 125

Nor withhold ye the countryman’s Ribald raillery Fescenine. (120) Nor if happily boys declare Thy dominion attaint, refuse, Youth, the nuts to be flinging. 130

Fling, O womanish youth; the boys Ask thee charity. Time agone (125) Toys and folly; to-day begins Our high duty, Talassius. Hasten, youth, to be flinging. 135

Thou didst surely but yestereve Mock the women, a favourite (130) Far above them: anon the first Beard, the razor. Alack, alas! Hasten, youth, to be flinging. 140

You, whom odorous oils declare Bridegroom, swerve not; a slippery (135) Love calls lightly, but yet refrain. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 145

Lawful only did e’er delight You, we know; but it is not, O (140) Husband, lawful as heretofore. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 150

Bride, thou also, if he demand Aught, refuse not, assent, obey. (145) Love can angrily pipe adieu. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 155

Look! thy mansion, a sovereign Home most goodly, by him to thee (150) Given. Reign as a queen within, Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 160

Still when hoary decrepitude, Shaking wintery brows benign, (155) Nods a tremulous Yes to all. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 165

With fair augury smite the blest Threshold, sunnily glistening (160) Feet: yon ivory door approach, Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 170