Chapter 4

Amabo, mea dulcis Ipsithilla,Meae deliciae, mei lepores,Iube ad te veniam meridiatum.Et si iusseris illud, adiuvato,5Nequis liminis obseret tabellam,Neu tibi lubeat foras abire,Sed domi maneas paresque nobisNovem continuas fututiones.Verum, siquid ages, statim iubeto:10Nam pransus iaceo et satur supinusPertundo tunicamque palliumque.

Amabo, mea dulcis Ipsithilla,

Meae deliciae, mei lepores,

Iube ad te veniam meridiatum.

Et si iusseris illud, adiuvato,

Nequis liminis obseret tabellam,

Neu tibi lubeat foras abire,

Sed domi maneas paresque nobis

Novem continuas fututiones.

Verum, siquid ages, statim iubeto:

Nam pransus iaceo et satur supinus

Pertundo tunicamque palliumque.

XXXII.

Craving Ipsithilla's Last Favours.

I'll love my Ipsithilla sweetest,My desires and my wit the meetest,So bid me join thy nap o' noon!Then (after bidding) add the boon5Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare,Lest thou be led afar to fare;Nay bide at home, for us prepareNine-fold continuous love-delights.But aught do thou to hurry things,10For dinner-full I lie aback,And gown and tunic through I crack.

I'll love my Ipsithilla sweetest,

My desires and my wit the meetest,

So bid me join thy nap o' noon!

Then (after bidding) add the boon

Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare,

Lest thou be led afar to fare;

Nay bide at home, for us prepare

Nine-fold continuous love-delights.

But aught do thou to hurry things,

For dinner-full I lie aback,

And gown and tunic through I crack.

I'll love thee, my sweet Ipsithilla, my delight, my pleasure: an thou bid me come to thee at noontide. And an thou thus biddest, I adjure thee that none makes fast the outer door [against me], nor be thou minded to gad forth, but do thou stay at home and prepare for us nine continuous conjoinings. In truth if thou art minded, give instant summons: for breakfast o'er, I lie supine and ripe, thrusting through both tunic and cloak.

XXXIII.

O furum optime balneariorumVibenni pater, et cinaede fili,(Nam dextra pater inquinatiore,Culo filius est voraciore)5Cur non exilium malasque in orasItis, quandoquidem patris rapinaeNotae sunt populo, et natis pilosas,Fili, non potes asse venditare.

O furum optime balneariorum

Vibenni pater, et cinaede fili,

(Nam dextra pater inquinatiore,

Culo filius est voraciore)

Cur non exilium malasque in oras

Itis, quandoquidem patris rapinae

Notae sunt populo, et natis pilosas,

Fili, non potes asse venditare.

XXXIII.

On the Vibenii—Bath-Thieves.

Oh, best of robbers who in Baths delight,Vibennius, sire and son, the Ingle hight,(For that the father's hand be fouler oneAnd with his anus greedier is the Son)5Why not to banishment and evil hoursHaste ye, when all the parent's plundering powersAre public knowledge, nor canst gain a CentSon! by the vending of thy pilèd vent.

Oh, best of robbers who in Baths delight,

Vibennius, sire and son, the Ingle hight,

(For that the father's hand be fouler one

And with his anus greedier is the Son)

Why not to banishment and evil hours

Haste ye, when all the parent's plundering powers

Are public knowledge, nor canst gain a Cent

Son! by the vending of thy pilèd vent.

O, chiefest of pilferers, baths frequenting, Vibennius the father and his pathic son (for with the right hand is the sire more in guilt, and with his backside is the son the greedier), why go ye not to exile and ill hours, seeing that the father's plunderings are known to all folk, and that, son, thou can'st not sell thine hairy buttocks for a doit?

XXXIIII.

Dianae sumus in fidePuellae et pueri integri:Dianam pueri integriPuellaeque canamus.5O Latonia, maximiMagna progenies Iovis,Quam mater prope DeliamDeposivit olivam,Montium domina ut fores10Silvarumque virentiumSaltuumque reconditorumAmniumque sonantum.Tu Lucina dolentibusIuno dicta puerperis,15Tu potens Trivia et notho'sDicta lumine Luna.Tu cursu, dea, menstruoMetiens iter annuomRustica agricolae bonis20Tecta frugibus exples.Sis quocumque tibi placetSancta nomine, Romulique,Antique ut solita's, bonaSospites ope gentem.

Dianae sumus in fidePuellae et pueri integri:Dianam pueri integriPuellaeque canamus.

Dianae sumus in fide

Puellae et pueri integri:

Dianam pueri integri

Puellaeque canamus.

5O Latonia, maximiMagna progenies Iovis,Quam mater prope DeliamDeposivit olivam,

O Latonia, maximi

Magna progenies Iovis,

Quam mater prope Deliam

Deposivit olivam,

Montium domina ut fores10Silvarumque virentiumSaltuumque reconditorumAmniumque sonantum.

Montium domina ut fores

Silvarumque virentium

Saltuumque reconditorum

Amniumque sonantum.

Tu Lucina dolentibusIuno dicta puerperis,15Tu potens Trivia et notho'sDicta lumine Luna.

Tu Lucina dolentibus

Iuno dicta puerperis,

Tu potens Trivia et notho's

Dicta lumine Luna.

Tu cursu, dea, menstruoMetiens iter annuomRustica agricolae bonis20Tecta frugibus exples.

Tu cursu, dea, menstruo

Metiens iter annuom

Rustica agricolae bonis

Tecta frugibus exples.

Sis quocumque tibi placetSancta nomine, Romulique,Antique ut solita's, bonaSospites ope gentem.

Sis quocumque tibi placet

Sancta nomine, Romulique,

Antique ut solita's, bona

Sospites ope gentem.

XXXIIII.

Hymn to Diana.

Diana's faith inbred we bearYouths whole of heart and maidens fair,Let boys no blemishes impair,And girls of Dian sing!5O great Latonian progeny,Of greatest Jove descendancy,Whom mother bare 'neath olive-tree,Deep in the Delian dell;That of the mountains reign thou Queen10And forest ranges ever green,And coppices by man unseen,And rivers resonant.Thou art Lucína, Juno hightBy mothers lien in painful plight,15Thou puissant Trivia and the LightBastard, yclept the Lune.Thou goddess with thy monthly stage,The yearly march doth mete and guageAnd rustic peasant's messuage,20Dost brim with best o' crops,Be hailed by whatso name of grace,Please thee and olden Romulus' race,Thy wonted favour deign embrace,And save with choicest aid.

Diana's faith inbred we bearYouths whole of heart and maidens fair,Let boys no blemishes impair,And girls of Dian sing!

Diana's faith inbred we bear

Youths whole of heart and maidens fair,

Let boys no blemishes impair,

And girls of Dian sing!

5O great Latonian progeny,Of greatest Jove descendancy,Whom mother bare 'neath olive-tree,Deep in the Delian dell;

O great Latonian progeny,

Of greatest Jove descendancy,

Whom mother bare 'neath olive-tree,

Deep in the Delian dell;

That of the mountains reign thou Queen10And forest ranges ever green,And coppices by man unseen,And rivers resonant.

That of the mountains reign thou Queen

And forest ranges ever green,

And coppices by man unseen,

And rivers resonant.

Thou art Lucína, Juno hightBy mothers lien in painful plight,15Thou puissant Trivia and the LightBastard, yclept the Lune.

Thou art Lucína, Juno hight

By mothers lien in painful plight,

Thou puissant Trivia and the Light

Bastard, yclept the Lune.

Thou goddess with thy monthly stage,The yearly march doth mete and guageAnd rustic peasant's messuage,20Dost brim with best o' crops,

Thou goddess with thy monthly stage,

The yearly march doth mete and guage

And rustic peasant's messuage,

Dost brim with best o' crops,

Be hailed by whatso name of grace,Please thee and olden Romulus' race,Thy wonted favour deign embrace,And save with choicest aid.

Be hailed by whatso name of grace,

Please thee and olden Romulus' race,

Thy wonted favour deign embrace,

And save with choicest aid.

We, maids and upright youths, are in Diana's care: upright youths and maids, we sing Diana.

O Latonia, progeny great of greatest Jove, whom thy mother bare 'neath Delian olive,

That thou mightst be Queen of lofty mounts, of foliaged groves, of remote glens, and of winding streams.

Thou art called Juno Lucina by the mother in her travail-pangs, thou art named potent Trivia and Luna with an ill-got light.

Thou, Goddess, with monthly march measuring the yearly course, dost glut with produce the rustic roofs of the farmer.

Be thou hallowed by whatsoe'er name thou dost prefer; and cherish, with thine good aid, as thou art wont, the ancient race of Romulus.

XXXV.

Poetae tenero, meo sodaliVelim Caecilio, papyre, dicas,Veronam veniat, Novi relinquensComi moenia Lariumque litus:5Nam quasdam volo cogitationesAmici accipiat sui meique.Quare, si sapiet, viam vorabit,Quamvis candida milies puellaEuntem revocet manusque collo10Ambas iniciens roget morari,Quae nunc, si mihi vera nuntiantur,Illum deperit inpotente amore:Nam quo tempore legit incohatamDindymi dominam, ex eo misellae15Ignes interiorem edunt medullam.Ignosco tibi, Sapphica puellaMusa doctior: est enim venusteMagna Caecilio incohata mater.

Poetae tenero, meo sodali

Velim Caecilio, papyre, dicas,

Veronam veniat, Novi relinquens

Comi moenia Lariumque litus:

Nam quasdam volo cogitationes

Amici accipiat sui meique.

Quare, si sapiet, viam vorabit,

Quamvis candida milies puella

Euntem revocet manusque collo

Ambas iniciens roget morari,

Quae nunc, si mihi vera nuntiantur,

Illum deperit inpotente amore:

Nam quo tempore legit incohatam

Dindymi dominam, ex eo misellae

Ignes interiorem edunt medullam.

Ignosco tibi, Sapphica puella

Musa doctior: est enim venuste

Magna Caecilio incohata mater.

XXXV.

An Invitation to Poet Cecilius.

Now to that tender bard, my Comrade fair,(Cecilius) say I, "Paper go, declare,Verona must we make and bid to NewComum's town-walls and Larian Shores adieu;"5For I determined certain fancies heAccept from mutual friend to him and me.Wherefore he will, if wise, devour the way,Though the blonde damsel thousand times essayRecall his going and with arms a-neck10A-winding would e'er seek his course to check;A girl who (if the truth be truly told)Dies of a hopeless passion uncontroul'd;For since the doings of the Díndymus-dame,By himself storied, she hath read, a flame15Wasting her inmost marrow-core hath burned.I pardon thee, than Sapphic Muse more learn'd,Damsel: for truly sung in sweetest laysWas by Cecilius Magna Mater's praise.

Now to that tender bard, my Comrade fair,

(Cecilius) say I, "Paper go, declare,

Verona must we make and bid to New

Comum's town-walls and Larian Shores adieu;"

For I determined certain fancies he

Accept from mutual friend to him and me.

Wherefore he will, if wise, devour the way,

Though the blonde damsel thousand times essay

Recall his going and with arms a-neck

A-winding would e'er seek his course to check;

A girl who (if the truth be truly told)

Dies of a hopeless passion uncontroul'd;

For since the doings of the Díndymus-dame,

By himself storied, she hath read, a flame

Wasting her inmost marrow-core hath burned.

I pardon thee, than Sapphic Muse more learn'd,

Damsel: for truly sung in sweetest lays

Was by Cecilius Magna Mater's praise.

To that sweet poet, my comrade, Caecilius, I bid thee, paper, say: that he hie him here to Verona, quitting New Comum's city-walls and Larius' shore; for I wish him to give ear to certain counsels from a friend of his and mine. Wherefore, an he be wise, he'll devour the way, although a milk-white maid doth thousand times retard his going, and flinging both arms around his neck doth supplicate delay—a damsel who now, if truth be brought me, is undone with immoderate love of him. For, since what time she first read of the Dindymus Queen, flames devour the innermost marrow of the wretched one. I grant thee pardon, damsel, more learned than the Sapphic muse: for charmingly has the Mighty Mother been sung by Caecilius.

XXXVI.

Annales Volusi, cacata charta,Votum solvite pro mea puella:Nam sanctae Veneri CupidiniqueVovit, si sibi restitutus essem5Desissemque truces vibrare iambos,Electissima pessimi poetaeScripta tardipedi deo daturamInfelicibus ustulanda lignis.Et haec pessima se puella vidit10Iocose lepide vovere divis.Nunc, o caeruleo creata ponto,Quae sanctum Idalium Vriosque portusQuaeque Ancona Cnidumque harundinosamColis quaeque Amathunta quaeque Golgos15Quaeque Durrachium Adriae tabernam,Acceptum face redditumque votum,Si non inlepidum neque invenustumst.At vos interea venite in ignem,Pleni ruris et inficetiarum20Annales Volusi, cacata charta.

Annales Volusi, cacata charta,

Votum solvite pro mea puella:

Nam sanctae Veneri Cupidinique

Vovit, si sibi restitutus essem

Desissemque truces vibrare iambos,

Electissima pessimi poetae

Scripta tardipedi deo daturam

Infelicibus ustulanda lignis.

Et haec pessima se puella vidit

Iocose lepide vovere divis.

Nunc, o caeruleo creata ponto,

Quae sanctum Idalium Vriosque portus

Quaeque Ancona Cnidumque harundinosam

Colis quaeque Amathunta quaeque Golgos

Quaeque Durrachium Adriae tabernam,

Acceptum face redditumque votum,

Si non inlepidum neque invenustumst.

At vos interea venite in ignem,

Pleni ruris et inficetiarum

Annales Volusi, cacata charta.

XXXVI.

On "The Annals"—A so-called Poem of Volusius.

Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed!Fulfil that promise erst my damsel made;Who vowed to Holy Venus and her son,Cupid, should I return to her anon5And cease to brandish iamb-lines accurst,The writ selected erst of bards the worstShe to the limping Godhead would devoteWith slowly-burning wood of illest note.This was the vilest which my girl could find10With vow facetious to the Gods assigned.Now, O Creation of the azure sea,Holy Idalium, Urian havenryHaunting, Ancona, Cnidos' reedy site,Amathus, Golgos, and the tavern hight15Durrachium—thine Adrian abode—The vow accepting, recognize the vowedAs not unworthy and unhandsome naught.But do ye meanwhile to the fire be brought,That teem with boorish jest of sorry blade,20Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed.

Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed!

Fulfil that promise erst my damsel made;

Who vowed to Holy Venus and her son,

Cupid, should I return to her anon

And cease to brandish iamb-lines accurst,

The writ selected erst of bards the worst

She to the limping Godhead would devote

With slowly-burning wood of illest note.

This was the vilest which my girl could find

With vow facetious to the Gods assigned.

Now, O Creation of the azure sea,

Holy Idalium, Urian havenry

Haunting, Ancona, Cnidos' reedy site,

Amathus, Golgos, and the tavern hight

Durrachium—thine Adrian abode—

The vow accepting, recognize the vowed

As not unworthy and unhandsome naught.

But do ye meanwhile to the fire be brought,

That teem with boorish jest of sorry blade,

Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed.

Volusius' Annals, merdous paper, fulfil ye a vow for my girl: for she vowed to sacred Venus and to Cupid that if I were re-united to her and I desisted hurling savage iambics, she would give the most elect writings of the pettiest poet to the tardy-footed God to be burned with ill-omened wood. Andthisthe saucy minx chose, jocosely and drolly to vow to the gods. Now, O Creation of the cerulean main, who art in sacred Idalium, and in Urian haven, and who doth foster Ancona and reedy Cnidos, Amathus and Golgos, and Dyrrhachium, Adriatic tavern, accept and acknowledge this vow if it lack not grace nor charm. But meantime, hence with ye to the flames, crammed with boorish speech and vapid, Annals of Volusius, merdous paper.

XXXVII.

Salax taberna vosque contubernales,A pileatis nona fratribus pila,Solis putatis esse mentulas vobis,Solis licere, quidquid est puellarum,5Confutuere et putare ceteros hircos?An, continenter quod sedetis insulsiCentum an ducenti, non putatis ausurumMe una ducentos inrumare sessores?Atqui putate: namque totius vobis10Frontem tabernae scorpionibus scribam.Puella nam mi, quae meo sinu fugit,Amata tantum quantum amabitur nulla,Pro qua mihi sunt magna bella pugnata,Consedit istic. hanc boni beatique15Omnes amatis, et quidem, quod indignumst,Omnes pusilli et semitarii moechi;Tu praeter omnes une de capillatis,Cuniculosae Celtiberiae filiEgnati, opaca quem bonum facit barba20Et dens Hibera defricatus urina.

Salax taberna vosque contubernales,

A pileatis nona fratribus pila,

Solis putatis esse mentulas vobis,

Solis licere, quidquid est puellarum,

Confutuere et putare ceteros hircos?

An, continenter quod sedetis insulsi

Centum an ducenti, non putatis ausurum

Me una ducentos inrumare sessores?

Atqui putate: namque totius vobis

Frontem tabernae scorpionibus scribam.

Puella nam mi, quae meo sinu fugit,

Amata tantum quantum amabitur nulla,

Pro qua mihi sunt magna bella pugnata,

Consedit istic. hanc boni beatique

Omnes amatis, et quidem, quod indignumst,

Omnes pusilli et semitarii moechi;

Tu praeter omnes une de capillatis,

Cuniculosae Celtiberiae fili

Egnati, opaca quem bonum facit barba

Et dens Hibera defricatus urina.

XXXVII.

To the Frequenters of a low Tavern.

Salacious Tavern and ye taverner-host,From Pileate Brothers the ninth pile-post,D'ye claim, you only of the mentule boast,D'ye claim alone what damsels be the best5To swive: as he-goats holding all the rest?Is't when like boobies sit ye incontinent here,One or two hundred, deem ye that I fearTwo hundred —— at one brunt?Ay, think so, natheless all your tavern-front10With many a scorpion I will over-write.For that my damsel, fro' my breast took flight,By me so lovèd, as shall loved be none,Wherefor so mighty wars were waged and won,Does sit in public here. Ye fain, rich wights,15All woo her: thither too (the chief of slights!)All pitiful knaves and by-street wenchers fare,And thou, (than any worse), with hanging hair,In coney-breeding Celtiberia bred,Egnatius! bonnified by beard full-fed,20And teeth with Spanish urine polishèd.

Salacious Tavern and ye taverner-host,

From Pileate Brothers the ninth pile-post,

D'ye claim, you only of the mentule boast,

D'ye claim alone what damsels be the best

To swive: as he-goats holding all the rest?

Is't when like boobies sit ye incontinent here,

One or two hundred, deem ye that I fear

Two hundred —— at one brunt?

Ay, think so, natheless all your tavern-front

With many a scorpion I will over-write.

For that my damsel, fro' my breast took flight,

By me so lovèd, as shall loved be none,

Wherefor so mighty wars were waged and won,

Does sit in public here. Ye fain, rich wights,

All woo her: thither too (the chief of slights!)

All pitiful knaves and by-street wenchers fare,

And thou, (than any worse), with hanging hair,

In coney-breeding Celtiberia bred,

Egnatius! bonnified by beard full-fed,

And teeth with Spanish urine polishèd.

Tavern of lust and you its tippling crowd, (at ninth pile sign-post from the Cap-donned Brothers) think ye that ye alone have mentules, that 'tis allowed to you alone to touzle whatever may be feminine, and to deem all other men mere goats? But, because ye sit, a row of fools numbering one hundred or haply two hundred, do ye think I dare not irrumate your entire two hundred—loungers!—at once! Think it! but I'll scrawl all over the front of your tavern with scorpion-words. For my girl, who has fled from my embrace (she whom I loved as ne'er a maid shall be beloved—for whom I fought fierce fights) has seated herself here. All ye, both honest men and rich, and also, (O cursed shame) all ye paltry back-slum fornicators, are making hot love to her; and thou above all, one of the hairy-visaged sons of coney-caverned Celtiberia, Egnatius, whose quality is stamped by dense-grown beard, and teeth with Spanish urine scrubbed.

XXXVIII.

Malest, Cornifici, tuo Catullo,Malest, me hercule, et est laboriose,Et magis magis in dies et horas.Quem tu, quod minimum facillimumquest,5Qua solatus es adlocutione?Irascor tibi. sic meos amores?Paulum quid lubet adlocutionis,Maestius lacrimis Simonideis.

Malest, Cornifici, tuo Catullo,

Malest, me hercule, et est laboriose,

Et magis magis in dies et horas.

Quem tu, quod minimum facillimumquest,

Qua solatus es adlocutione?

Irascor tibi. sic meos amores?

Paulum quid lubet adlocutionis,

Maestius lacrimis Simonideis.

XXXVIII.

A Complaint to Cornificius.

Cornificius! 'Tis ill with thy Catullus,'Tis ill (by Hercules) distressfully:Iller and iller every day and hour.Whose soul (as smallest boon and easiest)5With what of comfort hast thou deign'd console?Wi' thee I'm angered! Dost so prize my love?Yet some consoling utterance had been wellThough sadder 'twere than Simonídean tears.

Cornificius! 'Tis ill with thy Catullus,

'Tis ill (by Hercules) distressfully:

Iller and iller every day and hour.

Whose soul (as smallest boon and easiest)

With what of comfort hast thou deign'd console?

Wi' thee I'm angered! Dost so prize my love?

Yet some consoling utterance had been well

Though sadder 'twere than Simonídean tears.

'Tis ill, Cornificius, with thy Catullus, 'tis ill, by Hercules, and most untoward; and greater, greater ill, each day and hour! And thou, what solace givest thou, e'en the tiniest, the lightest, by thy words? I'm wroth with thee. Is my love but worth this? Yet one little message would cheer me, though more full of sadness than Simonidean tears.

XXXVIIII.

Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes,Renidet usque quaque. sei ad rei ventumstSubsellium, cum orator excitat fletum,Renidet ille. sei ad pii rogum fili5Lugetur, orba cum flet unicum mater,Renidet ille. quidquid est, ubicumquest,Quodcumque agit, renidet. hunc habet morbum,Neque elegantem, ut arbitror, neque urbanum.Quare monendum test mihi, bone Egnati.10Si urbanus esses aut Sabinus aut TibursAut fartus Vmber aut obesus EtruscusAut Lanuinus ater atque dentatusAut Transpadanus, ut meos quoque attingam,Aut quilubet, qui puriter lavit dentes,15Tamen renidere usque quaque te nollem:Nam risu inepto res ineptior nullast.Nunc Celtiber es: Celtiberia in terra,Quod quisque minxit, hoc sibi solet maneDentem atque russam defricare gingivam,20Vt quo iste vester expolitior dens est,Hoc te amplius bibisse praedicet loti.

Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes,

Renidet usque quaque. sei ad rei ventumst

Subsellium, cum orator excitat fletum,

Renidet ille. sei ad pii rogum fili

Lugetur, orba cum flet unicum mater,

Renidet ille. quidquid est, ubicumquest,

Quodcumque agit, renidet. hunc habet morbum,

Neque elegantem, ut arbitror, neque urbanum.

Quare monendum test mihi, bone Egnati.

Si urbanus esses aut Sabinus aut Tiburs

Aut fartus Vmber aut obesus Etruscus

Aut Lanuinus ater atque dentatus

Aut Transpadanus, ut meos quoque attingam,

Aut quilubet, qui puriter lavit dentes,

Tamen renidere usque quaque te nollem:

Nam risu inepto res ineptior nullast.

Nunc Celtiber es: Celtiberia in terra,

Quod quisque minxit, hoc sibi solet mane

Dentem atque russam defricare gingivam,

Vt quo iste vester expolitior dens est,

Hoc te amplius bibisse praedicet loti.

XXXVIIII.

On Egnatius of the White Teeth.

Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wightIn dock, when pleader would draw tears, the whileHe grins. When pious son at funeral pile5Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son,He grins. Whate'er, whene'er, howe'er is done,Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,Nor kind, nor courteous—so beseemeth me—Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!10Wert thou corrupt Sabine or a Tiburtine,Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrownSwarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,Transpádan also, that mine own I touch,Or any washing teeth to shine o'er much,15Yet thy incessant grin I would not see,For naught than laughter silly sillier be.Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,Where man who's urined therewith loves a-mornHis teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;20So the more polisht are your teeth, the moreArgue they sipping stale in ampler store.

Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,

Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wight

In dock, when pleader would draw tears, the while

He grins. When pious son at funeral pile

Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son,

He grins. Whate'er, whene'er, howe'er is done,

Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,

Nor kind, nor courteous—so beseemeth me—

Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!

Wert thou corrupt Sabine or a Tiburtine,

Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrown

Swarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,

Transpádan also, that mine own I touch,

Or any washing teeth to shine o'er much,

Yet thy incessant grin I would not see,

For naught than laughter silly sillier be.

Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,

Where man who's urined therewith loves a-morn

His teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;

So the more polisht are your teeth, the more

Argue they sipping stale in ampler store.

Egnatius, who has milk-white teeth, grins for ever and aye. An he be in court, when counsel excites tears, he grins. An he be at funeral pyre where one mourns a son devoted, where a bereft mother's tears stream for her only one, he grins. Whatever it may be, wherever he is, whate'er may happen, he grins. Such ill habit has he—neither in good taste, well assumed, nor refined. Wherefore do thou take note from me, my good Egnatius. Be thou refined Sabine or Tiburtine, paunch-full Umbrian or obese Tuscan, Lanuvian dusky and large-tusked, or Transpadine (to touch upon mine own folk also), or whom thou wilt of those who cleanly wash their teeth, still I'd wish thee not to grin for ever and aye; for than senseless giggling nothing is more senseless. Now thou'rt a Celtiberian! and in the Celtiberian land each wight who has urined is wont each morn to scrub with it histeeth and pinky gums, so that the higher the polish on thy teeth, the greater fund it notes that thou hast drunk of urine.

XXXX.

Quaenam te mala mens, miselle Ravide,Agit praecipitem in meos iambos?Quis deus tibi non bene advocatusVecordem parat excitare rixam?5An ut pervenias in ora vulgi?Quid vis? qua lubet esse notus optas?Eris, quandoquidem meos amoresCum longa voluisti amare poena.

Quaenam te mala mens, miselle Ravide,

Agit praecipitem in meos iambos?

Quis deus tibi non bene advocatus

Vecordem parat excitare rixam?

An ut pervenias in ora vulgi?

Quid vis? qua lubet esse notus optas?

Eris, quandoquidem meos amores

Cum longa voluisti amare poena.

XXXX.

Threatening Ravidus who stole his Mistress.

What thought of folly Rávidus (poor churl!)Upon my iambs thus would headlong hurl?What good or cunning counsellor would fainUrge thee to struggle in such strife insane?5Is't that the vulgar mouth thy name by rote?What will'st thou? Wishest on any wise such note?Thenshaltbe noted since my love so liefFor love thou sued'st to thy lasting grief.

What thought of folly Rávidus (poor churl!)

Upon my iambs thus would headlong hurl?

What good or cunning counsellor would fain

Urge thee to struggle in such strife insane?

Is't that the vulgar mouth thy name by rote?

What will'st thou? Wishest on any wise such note?

Thenshaltbe noted since my love so lief

For love thou sued'st to thy lasting grief.

What mind ill set, O sorry Ravidus, doth thrust thee rashly on to my iambics? What god, none advocate of good for thee, doth stir thee to a senseless contest? That thou may'st be in the people'smouth? What would'st thou? Dost wish to be famed, no matter in what way? So thou shalt be, since thou hast aspired to our loved one's love, but by our long-drawn vengeance.

XXXXI.

Ametina puella defututaTota milia me decem poposcit,Ista turpiculo puella naso,Decoctoris amica Formiani.5Propinqui, quibus est puella curae,Amicos medicosque convocate:Non est sana puella. nec rogate,Qualis sit: solet esse imaginosa.

Ametina puella defututa

Tota milia me decem poposcit,

Ista turpiculo puella naso,

Decoctoris amica Formiani.

Propinqui, quibus est puella curae,

Amicos medicosque convocate:

Non est sana puella. nec rogate,

Qualis sit: solet esse imaginosa.

XXXXI.

On Mamurra's Mistress.

That Ametina, worn-out whore,Me for a myriad oft would bore,That strumpet of th' ignoble nose,To leman, rakehell Formian chose.5An ye would guard her (kinsmen folk)Your friends and leaches d'ye convoke:The girl's not sound-sens'd; ask ye naughtOf her complaint: she's love-distraught.

That Ametina, worn-out whore,

Me for a myriad oft would bore,

That strumpet of th' ignoble nose,

To leman, rakehell Formian chose.

An ye would guard her (kinsmen folk)

Your friends and leaches d'ye convoke:

The girl's not sound-sens'd; ask ye naught

Of her complaint: she's love-distraught.

Ametina, out-drainèd maiden, worries me for a whole ten thousand, that damsel with an outspread nose,chère amieof Formianus the wildling. Ye nearof kin in whose care the maiden is, summon ye both friends and medicals: for the girl's not sane. Nor ask ye, in what way: she is subject to delusions.

XXXXII.

Adeste, hendecasyllabi, quot estisOmnes undique, quotquot estis omnes.Iocum me putat esse moecha turpisEt negat mihi nostra reddituram5Pugillaria, si pati potestis.Persequamur eam, et reflagitemus.Quae sit, quaeritis. illa, quam videtisTurpe incedere, mimice ac molesteRidentem catuli ore Gallicani.10Circumsistite eam, et reflagitate,'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'Non assis facis? o lutum, lupanar,Aut si perditius potest quid esse.15Sed non est tamen hoc satis putandum.Quod si non aliud potest, ruboremFerreo canis exprimamus ore.Conclamate iterum altiore voce'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,20Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'Sed nil proficimus, nihil movetur.Mutandast ratio modusque vobis,Siquid proficere amplius potestis,'Pudica et proba, redde codicillos.'

Adeste, hendecasyllabi, quot estis

Omnes undique, quotquot estis omnes.

Iocum me putat esse moecha turpis

Et negat mihi nostra reddituram

Pugillaria, si pati potestis.

Persequamur eam, et reflagitemus.

Quae sit, quaeritis. illa, quam videtis

Turpe incedere, mimice ac moleste

Ridentem catuli ore Gallicani.

Circumsistite eam, et reflagitate,

'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,

Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'

Non assis facis? o lutum, lupanar,

Aut si perditius potest quid esse.

Sed non est tamen hoc satis putandum.

Quod si non aliud potest, ruborem

Ferreo canis exprimamus ore.

Conclamate iterum altiore voce

'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,

Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'

Sed nil proficimus, nihil movetur.

Mutandast ratio modusque vobis,

Siquid proficere amplius potestis,

'Pudica et proba, redde codicillos.'

XXXXII.

On a Strumpet who stole his Tablets.

Come, Hendecasyllabics, many as mayAll hither, every one that of you be!That fulsome harlot makes me laughing-stockAnd she refuses at our prayer restore5Our stolen Note-books, an such slights ye bear.Let us pursue her clamouring our demands."Who's she?" ye question: yonder one ye sightMincingly pacing mime-like, perfect pest,With jaws wide grinning like a Gallic pup.10Stand all round her dunning with demands,"Return (O rotten whore!) our noting books.Our noting books (O rotten whore!) return!"No doit thou car'st? O Mire! O Stuff o' stews!Or if aught fouler filthier dirt there be.15Yet must we never think these words suffice.But if naught else avail, at least a blushForth of that bitch-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.Cry all together in a higher key"Restore (O rotten whore!) our noting books,20Our noting books (O rotten whore!) restore!"Still naught avails us, nothing is she moved.Now must our measures and our modes be changedAn we would anywise our cause advance."Restore (chaste, honest Maid!) our noting books!"

Come, Hendecasyllabics, many as may

All hither, every one that of you be!

That fulsome harlot makes me laughing-stock

And she refuses at our prayer restore

Our stolen Note-books, an such slights ye bear.

Let us pursue her clamouring our demands.

"Who's she?" ye question: yonder one ye sight

Mincingly pacing mime-like, perfect pest,

With jaws wide grinning like a Gallic pup.

Stand all round her dunning with demands,

"Return (O rotten whore!) our noting books.

Our noting books (O rotten whore!) return!"

No doit thou car'st? O Mire! O Stuff o' stews!

Or if aught fouler filthier dirt there be.

Yet must we never think these words suffice.

But if naught else avail, at least a blush

Forth of that bitch-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.

Cry all together in a higher key

"Restore (O rotten whore!) our noting books,

Our noting books (O rotten whore!) restore!"

Still naught avails us, nothing is she moved.

Now must our measures and our modes be changed

An we would anywise our cause advance.

"Restore (chaste, honest Maid!) our noting books!"

Hither, all ye hendecasyllables, as many as may be, from every part, all of ye, as many soever asthere be! A shameless prostitute deems me fair sport, and denies return to me of our writing tablets, if ye are able to endure this. Let's after her, and claim them back. "Who may she be," ye ask? That one, whom ye see strutting awkwardly, stagily, and stiffly, and with a laugh on her mouth like a Gallic whelp. Throng round her, and claim them back. "O putrid punk, hand back our writing tablets; hand back, O putrid punk, our writing tablets." Not a jot dost heed? O Muck, Brothel-Spawn, or e'en loathsomer if it is possible so to be! Yet think not yet that this is enough. For if naught else we can extort a blush on thy brazened bitch's face. We'll yell again in heightened tones, "O putrid punk, hand back our writing tablets, hand back, O putrid punk, our writing tablets." But naught we profit, naught she budges. Changed must your measure and your manner be, an you would further progress make—"O Virgin pure and spotless, hand back our writing tablets."

XXXXIII.

Salve, nec minimo puella nasoNec bello pede nec nigris ocellisNec longis digitis nec ore siccoNec sane nimis elegante lingua,5Decoctoris amica Formiani.Ten provincia narrat esse bellam?Tecum Lesbia nostra conparatur?O saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

Salve, nec minimo puella naso

Nec bello pede nec nigris ocellis

Nec longis digitis nec ore sicco

Nec sane nimis elegante lingua,

Decoctoris amica Formiani.

Ten provincia narrat esse bellam?

Tecum Lesbia nostra conparatur?

O saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

XXXXIII.

To Mamurra's Mistress.

Hail, girl who neither nose of minim sizeOwns, nor a pretty foot, nor jetty eyes,Nor thin long fingers, nor mouth dry of slaverNor yet too graceful tongue of pleasant flavour,5Leman to Formian that rake-a-hell.What, can the Province boast of thee as belle?Thee with my Lesbia durst it make compare?O Age insipid, of all humour bare!

Hail, girl who neither nose of minim size

Owns, nor a pretty foot, nor jetty eyes,

Nor thin long fingers, nor mouth dry of slaver

Nor yet too graceful tongue of pleasant flavour,

Leman to Formian that rake-a-hell.

What, can the Province boast of thee as belle?

Thee with my Lesbia durst it make compare?

O Age insipid, of all humour bare!

Hail, O maiden with nose not of the tiniest, with foot lacking shape and eyes lacking darkness, with fingers scant of length, and mouth not dry and tongue scant enough of elegance,chère amieof Formianus the wildling. And thee the province declares to be lovely? With thee our Lesbia is to be compared? O generation witless and unmannerly!

XXXXIIII.

O funde noster seu Sabine seu Tiburs,(Nam te esse Tiburtem autumant, quibus non estCordi Catullum laedere: at quibus cordist,Quovis Sabinum pignore esse contendunt)5Sed seu Sabine sive verius Tiburs,Fui libenter in tua suburbanaVilla malamque pectore expuli tussim,Non inmerenti quam mihi meus venter,Dum sumptuosas adpeto, dedit, cenas.10Nam, Sestianus dum volo esse conviva,Orationem in Antium petitoremPlenam veneni et pestilentiae legi.Hic me gravido frigida et frequens tussisQuassavit usque dum in tuum sinum fugi15Et me recuravi otioque et urtica.Quare refectus maximas tibi gratesAgo, meum quod non es ulta peccatum.Nec deprecor iam, si nefaria scriptaSesti recepso, quin gravidinem et tussim20Non mi, sed ipsi Sestio ferat frigus,Qui tum vocat me, cum malum librum legi.

O funde noster seu Sabine seu Tiburs,

(Nam te esse Tiburtem autumant, quibus non est

Cordi Catullum laedere: at quibus cordist,

Quovis Sabinum pignore esse contendunt)

Sed seu Sabine sive verius Tiburs,

Fui libenter in tua suburbana

Villa malamque pectore expuli tussim,

Non inmerenti quam mihi meus venter,

Dum sumptuosas adpeto, dedit, cenas.

Nam, Sestianus dum volo esse conviva,

Orationem in Antium petitorem

Plenam veneni et pestilentiae legi.

Hic me gravido frigida et frequens tussis

Quassavit usque dum in tuum sinum fugi

Et me recuravi otioque et urtica.

Quare refectus maximas tibi grates

Ago, meum quod non es ulta peccatum.

Nec deprecor iam, si nefaria scripta

Sesti recepso, quin gravidinem et tussim

Non mi, sed ipsi Sestio ferat frigus,

Qui tum vocat me, cum malum librum legi.

XXXXIIII.

Catullus to his own Farm.

O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine,(For style thee "Tiburs" who have not at heartTo hurt Catullus, whereas all that haveWage any wager thou be Sabine classed)5But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truerTo thy suburban Cottage fared I fainAnd fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd coughWhich not unmerited on me my maw,A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.10For I requesting to be Sestius' guestRead against claimant Antius a speech,Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent coughShook me till fled I to thy bosom, where15Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills.Wherefore recruited now best thanks I giveTo thee for nowise punishing my sins:Nor do I now object if noisome writsOf Sestius hear I, but that cold and cough20And rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius' selfWho asks me only his ill writs to read.

O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine,

(For style thee "Tiburs" who have not at heart

To hurt Catullus, whereas all that have

Wage any wager thou be Sabine classed)

But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer

To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain

And fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd cough

Which not unmerited on me my maw,

A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.

For I requesting to be Sestius' guest

Read against claimant Antius a speech,

Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.

Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent cough

Shook me till fled I to thy bosom, where

Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills.

Wherefore recruited now best thanks I give

To thee for nowise punishing my sins:

Nor do I now object if noisome writs

Of Sestius hear I, but that cold and cough

And rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius' self

Who asks me only his ill writs to read.

O, Homestead of ours, whether Sabine or Tiburtine (for that thou'rt Tiburtine folk concur, in whose heart 'tis not to wound Catullus; but those in whose heart 'tis, will wager anything thou'rt Sabine) but whether Sabine or more truly Tiburtine, o'erjoyed was I to be within thy rural country-home, and to cast off an ill cough from my chest, which—not unearned—my belly granted me, for grasping after sumptuous feeds. For, in my wish to be Sestius' guest, his defence against the plaintiff Antius, crammed with venom and pestilent dulness, did I read through. Hence a chill heavy rheum and fitful cough shattered me continually until I fled to thine asylum, and brought me back to health with rest and nettle-broth. Wherefore, re-manned, I give thee utmost thanks, that thou hast not avenged my fault. Nor do I pray now for aught but that, should I re-take Sestius' nefarious script, its frigid vapidness may bring a cold and cough to Sestius' self; for he but invites me when I read dull stuff.

XXXXV.

Acmen Septumius suos amoresTenens in gremio 'mea' inquit 'Acme,Ni te perdite amo atque amare porroOmnes sum adsidue paratus annos5Quantum qui pote plurimum perire,Solus in Libya Indiave tostaCaesio veniam obvius leoni.'Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante,Dextra sternuit adprobationem.10At Acme leviter caput reflectensEt dulcis pueri ebrios ocellosIllo purpureo ore saviata'Sic' inquit 'mea vita Septumille,Huic uni domino usque serviamus,15Vt multo mihi maior acriorqueIgnis mollibus ardet in medullis.'Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante,Dextra sternuit adprobationem.Nunc ab auspicio bono profecti20Mutuis animis amant amantur.Vnam Septumius misellus AcmenMavolt quam Syrias Britanniasque:Vno in Septumio fidelis AcmeFacit delicias libidinesque.25Quis ullos homines beatioresVidit, quis Venerem auspicatiorem?

Acmen Septumius suos amores

Tenens in gremio 'mea' inquit 'Acme,

Ni te perdite amo atque amare porro

Omnes sum adsidue paratus annos

Quantum qui pote plurimum perire,

Solus in Libya Indiave tosta

Caesio veniam obvius leoni.'

Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante,

Dextra sternuit adprobationem.

At Acme leviter caput reflectens

Et dulcis pueri ebrios ocellos

Illo purpureo ore saviata

'Sic' inquit 'mea vita Septumille,

Huic uni domino usque serviamus,

Vt multo mihi maior acriorque

Ignis mollibus ardet in medullis.'

Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante,

Dextra sternuit adprobationem.

Nunc ab auspicio bono profecti

Mutuis animis amant amantur.

Vnam Septumius misellus Acmen

Mavolt quam Syrias Britanniasque:

Vno in Septumio fidelis Acme

Facit delicias libidinesque.

Quis ullos homines beatiores

Vidit, quis Venerem auspicatiorem?

XXXXV.

On Acme and Septumius.

To Acmé quoth Septumius who his fereHeld on his bosom—"Acmé, mine! next year,Unless I love thee fondlier than before,And with each twelve month love thee more and more,5As much as lover's life can slay with yearning,Alone in Lybia, or Hind's clime a-burning,Be mine to encounter Lion grisly-eyed!"While he was speaking Love on leftward side(As wont) approving sneeze from dextral sped.10But Acmé backwards gently bending head,And the love-drunken eyes of her sweet boyKissing with yonder rosy mouth, "My joy,"She murmured, "my life-love Septumillus mine!Unto one master's hest let's aye incline,15As burns with fuller and with fiercer fireIn my soft marrow set, this love-desire!"While she was speaking, Love from leftward side(As wont) with sneeze approving rightwards hied.Now with boon omens wafted on their way,20In mutual fondness, love and loved are they.Love-sick Septumius holds one Acmé's love,Of Syrias or either Britains high above,Acmé to one Septumius full of faithHer love and love-liesse surrendereth.25Who e'er saw mortals happier than these two?Who e'er a better omened Venus knew?

To Acmé quoth Septumius who his fere

Held on his bosom—"Acmé, mine! next year,

Unless I love thee fondlier than before,

And with each twelve month love thee more and more,

As much as lover's life can slay with yearning,

Alone in Lybia, or Hind's clime a-burning,

Be mine to encounter Lion grisly-eyed!"

While he was speaking Love on leftward side

(As wont) approving sneeze from dextral sped.

But Acmé backwards gently bending head,

And the love-drunken eyes of her sweet boy

Kissing with yonder rosy mouth, "My joy,"

She murmured, "my life-love Septumillus mine!

Unto one master's hest let's aye incline,

As burns with fuller and with fiercer fire

In my soft marrow set, this love-desire!"

While she was speaking, Love from leftward side

(As wont) with sneeze approving rightwards hied.

Now with boon omens wafted on their way,

In mutual fondness, love and loved are they.

Love-sick Septumius holds one Acmé's love,

Of Syrias or either Britains high above,

Acmé to one Septumius full of faith

Her love and love-liesse surrendereth.

Who e'er saw mortals happier than these two?

Who e'er a better omened Venus knew?

Septumius clasping Acme his adored to his bosom, "Acme mine," quoth he, "if thee I love not to perdition, nor am prepared to love through all the future years moreover without cease, as greatly and distractedly as man may,—alone in Libya or in torrid India may I oppose asteel-eyed lion." As thus he said, Love, leftwards as before, with approbation rightwards sneezed. Then Acme slightly bending back her head, and the swimming eyes of her sweet boy with rose-red lips a-kissing, "So," quoth she, "my life, Septumillus, this Lord unique let us serve for aye, as more forceful in me burns the fire greater and keener 'midst my soft marrow." As thus she said, Love, leftwards as before, with approbation rightwards sneezed. Now with good auspice urged along, with mutual minds they love and are beloved. The thrall o' love Septumius his only Acme far would choose, than Tyrian or Britannian realms: the faithful Acme with Septumius unique doth work her love delights and wantonings. Whoe'er has seen folk blissfuller, whoe'er a more propitious union?

XXXXVI.

Iam ver egelidos refert tepores,Iam caeli furor aequinoctialisIocundis Zephyri silescit aureis.Linquantur Phrygii, Catulle, campi5Nicaeaeque ager uber aestuosae:Ad claras Asiae volemus urbes.Iam mens praetrepidans avet vagari,Iam laeti studio pedes vigescunt.O dulces comitum valete coetus,10Longe quos simul a domo profectosDiversae variae viae reportant.

Iam ver egelidos refert tepores,

Iam caeli furor aequinoctialis

Iocundis Zephyri silescit aureis.

Linquantur Phrygii, Catulle, campi

Nicaeaeque ager uber aestuosae:

Ad claras Asiae volemus urbes.

Iam mens praetrepidans avet vagari,

Iam laeti studio pedes vigescunt.

O dulces comitum valete coetus,

Longe quos simul a domo profectos

Diversae variae viae reportant.

XXXXVI.

His Adieux to Bithynia.

Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back,Now th' equinoctial heaven's rage and wrackHushes at hest of Zephyr's bonny breeze.Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leas5And summery Nicæa's fertile downs:Fly we to Asia's fame-illumined towns.Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long,Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong.O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng,10Ye who together far from homesteads flying,By many various ways come homewards hieing.

Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back,

Now th' equinoctial heaven's rage and wrack

Hushes at hest of Zephyr's bonny breeze.

Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leas

And summery Nicæa's fertile downs:

Fly we to Asia's fame-illumined towns.

Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long,

Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong.

O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng,

Ye who together far from homesteads flying,

By many various ways come homewards hieing.

Now springtide brings back its mild and tepid airs, now the heaven's fury equinoctial is calmed by Zephyr's benign breath. The Phrygian meadows are left behind, O Catullus, and the teeming fields of sun-scorched Nicaea: to the glorious Asian cities let us haste. Now my palpitating soul craves wander, now my feet grow vigorous with glad zeal. O charming circlet of comrades, fare ye well, who are together met from distant homes to which divers sundered ways lead back.

XXXXVII.

Porci et Socration, duae sinistraePisonis, scabies famesque mundiVos Veraniolo meo et FabulloVerpus praeposuit Priapus ille?5Vos convivia lauta sumptuoseDe die facitis? mei sodalesQuaerunt in trivio vocationes?

Porci et Socration, duae sinistrae

Pisonis, scabies famesque mundi

Vos Veraniolo meo et Fabullo

Verpus praeposuit Priapus ille?

Vos convivia lauta sumptuose

De die facitis? mei sodales

Quaerunt in trivio vocationes?

XXXXVII.

To Porcius and Socration.

Porcius and Socration, pair sinisterOf Piso, scabs and starvelings of the world,You to Fabúllus and my Verianólus,Hath dared yon snipt Priapus to prefer?5Upon rich banquets sumptuously spreadStill gorge you daily while my comrades mustGo seek invitals where the three roads fork?

Porcius and Socration, pair sinister

Of Piso, scabs and starvelings of the world,

You to Fabúllus and my Verianólus,

Hath dared yon snipt Priapus to prefer?

Upon rich banquets sumptuously spread

Still gorge you daily while my comrades must

Go seek invitals where the three roads fork?

Porcius and Socration, twins in rascality of Piso, scurf and famisht of the earth, you before my Veraniolus and Fabullus has that prepuce-lacking Priapus placed? Shall you betimes each day in luxurious opulence banquet? And must my cronies quest for dinner invitations, [lounging] where the three cross-roads meet?

XXXXVIII.

Mellitos oculos tuos, Iuventi,Siquis me sinat usque basiare,Vsque ad milia basiem trecenta,Nec umquam videar satur futurus,5Non si densior aridis aristisSit nostrae seges osculationis.

Mellitos oculos tuos, Iuventi,

Siquis me sinat usque basiare,

Vsque ad milia basiem trecenta,

Nec umquam videar satur futurus,

Non si densior aridis aristis

Sit nostrae seges osculationis.

XXXXVIII.

To Juventius.

Those honied eyes of thine (Juventius!)If any suffer me sans stint to buss,I'd kiss of kisses hundred thousands three,Nor ever deem I'd reach satiety,5Not albe denser than dried wheat-ears showThe kissing harvests our embraces grow.

Those honied eyes of thine (Juventius!)

If any suffer me sans stint to buss,

I'd kiss of kisses hundred thousands three,

Nor ever deem I'd reach satiety,

Not albe denser than dried wheat-ears show

The kissing harvests our embraces grow.

Thine honey-sweet eyes, O Juventius, had I the leave to kiss for aye, for aye I'd kiss e'en to three hundred thousand kisses, nor ever should I reach to future plenity, not even if thicker than dried wheat sheaves be the harvest of our kisses.

XXXXVIIII.

Disertissime Romuli nepotum,Quot sunt quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,Quotque post aliis erunt in annis,Gratias tibi maximas Catullus5Agit pessimus omnium poeta,Tanto pessimus omnium poetaQuanto tu optimus omnium patronus.

Disertissime Romuli nepotum,

Quot sunt quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,

Quotque post aliis erunt in annis,

Gratias tibi maximas Catullus

Agit pessimus omnium poeta,

Tanto pessimus omnium poeta

Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.

XXXXVIIII.

To Marcus Tullius Cicero.

Most eloquent 'mid race of RomulusThat is or ever was (Marc Tullius!)Or in the coming years the light shall see,His thanks, the warmest, offers unto thee5Catullus, poet sorriest that be,And by such measure poet sorriest,As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.

Most eloquent 'mid race of Romulus

That is or ever was (Marc Tullius!)

Or in the coming years the light shall see,

His thanks, the warmest, offers unto thee

Catullus, poet sorriest that be,

And by such measure poet sorriest,

As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.

Most eloquent of Romulus' descendancy, who are, who have been, O Marcus Tullius, and who shall later be in after time, to thee doth give his greatest gratitude Catullus, pettiest of all the poets,—and so much pettiest of all the poets as thou art peerless 'mongst all pleaders.

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