O to the goodman fair, O welcome alike to the father,Hail, and Jove's kind grace shower his help upon you!Door, that of old, men say, wrought Balbus ready obeisance,Once, when his home, time was, lodged him, a master in years;5Door, that again, men say, grudg'd aught but a spiteful obeisance,Soon as a corpse outstretch'd starkly declar'd you a bride.Come, speak truly to me; what shameful rumour avouchesDuty of years forsworn, honour in injury lost?
O to the goodman fair, O welcome alike to the father,Hail, and Jove's kind grace shower his help upon you!Door, that of old, men say, wrought Balbus ready obeisance,Once, when his home, time was, lodged him, a master in years;5Door, that again, men say, grudg'd aught but a spiteful obeisance,Soon as a corpse outstretch'd starkly declar'd you a bride.Come, speak truly to me; what shameful rumour avouchesDuty of years forsworn, honour in injury lost?
DOOR.
So be the tenant new, Caecilius, happy to own me,10I'm not guilty, for all jealousy says it is I.Never a fault was mine, nor man shall whisper it ever;Only, my friend, your mob's noisy "The door is a rogue."Comes to the light some mischief, a deed uncivil arising,Loudly to me shout all, "Door, you are wholly to blame."
So be the tenant new, Caecilius, happy to own me,10I'm not guilty, for all jealousy says it is I.Never a fault was mine, nor man shall whisper it ever;Only, my friend, your mob's noisy "The door is a rogue."Comes to the light some mischief, a deed uncivil arising,Loudly to me shout all, "Door, you are wholly to blame."
CATULLUS.
15'Tis not enough so merely to say, so think to decide it.Better, who wills should feel, see it, who wills, to be true.
15'Tis not enough so merely to say, so think to decide it.Better, who wills should feel, see it, who wills, to be true.
DOOR.
How then? if here none asks, nor labours any to know it.
How then? if here none asks, nor labours any to know it.
CATULLUS.
Nay,Iask it; away scruple; your hearer is I.
Nay,Iask it; away scruple; your hearer is I.
DOOR.
First, what rumour avers, they gave her to us a virgin—20They lie on her. A light lady! be sure, not aloneClipp'd her an husband first; weak stalk from a garden, a pointlessFalchion, a heart did ne'er fully to courage awake.No; to the son's own bed, 'tis said, that father ascended,Vilely; with act impure stain'd the facinorous house.25Whether a blind fierce lust in his heart burnt sinfully flaming,Or that inert that son's vigour, amort to delight,Needed a sturdier arm, that franker quality somewhere,Looser of youth's fast-bound girdle, a virgin as yet.
First, what rumour avers, they gave her to us a virgin—20They lie on her. A light lady! be sure, not aloneClipp'd her an husband first; weak stalk from a garden, a pointlessFalchion, a heart did ne'er fully to courage awake.No; to the son's own bed, 'tis said, that father ascended,Vilely; with act impure stain'd the facinorous house.25Whether a blind fierce lust in his heart burnt sinfully flaming,Or that inert that son's vigour, amort to delight,Needed a sturdier arm, that franker quality somewhere,Looser of youth's fast-bound girdle, a virgin as yet.
CATULLUS.
Truly a noble father, a glorious act of affection!30Thus in a son's kind sheets lewdly to puddle, his own.
Truly a noble father, a glorious act of affection!30Thus in a son's kind sheets lewdly to puddle, his own.
DOOR.
Yet not alone of this, her crag Chinaean abidingUnder, a watch-tower set warily, Brixia tells,Brixia, trails whereby his waters Mella the golden,Mother of her, mine own city, Verona the fair.35Add Postumius yet, Cornelius also, a twice-toldFolly, with whom our light mistress adultery knew.Asks some questioner here "What? a door, yet privy to lewdness?You, from your owner's gate never a minute away?Strange to the talk o' the town? since here, stout timber above you,40Hung to the beam, you shut mutely or open again."Many a shameful time I heard her stealthy profession,While to the maids her guilt softly she hinted alone.Spoke unabash'd her amours and named them singly, opiningHaply an ear to record fail'd me, a voice to reveal.45There was another; enough; his name I gladly dissemble;Lest his lifted brows blush a disorderly rage.Sir, 'twas a long lean suitor; a process huge had assail'd him;'Twas for a pregnant womb falsely declar'd to be true.
Yet not alone of this, her crag Chinaean abidingUnder, a watch-tower set warily, Brixia tells,Brixia, trails whereby his waters Mella the golden,Mother of her, mine own city, Verona the fair.35Add Postumius yet, Cornelius also, a twice-toldFolly, with whom our light mistress adultery knew.Asks some questioner here "What? a door, yet privy to lewdness?You, from your owner's gate never a minute away?Strange to the talk o' the town? since here, stout timber above you,40Hung to the beam, you shut mutely or open again."Many a shameful time I heard her stealthy profession,While to the maids her guilt softly she hinted alone.Spoke unabash'd her amours and named them singly, opiningHaply an ear to record fail'd me, a voice to reveal.45There was another; enough; his name I gladly dissemble;Lest his lifted brows blush a disorderly rage.Sir, 'twas a long lean suitor; a process huge had assail'd him;'Twas for a pregnant womb falsely declar'd to be true.
If, when fortune's wrong with bitter misery whelms thee,Thou thy sad tear-scrawl'd letter, a mark to the storm,Send'st, and bid'st me to succour a stranded seaman of Ocean,Toss'd in foam, from death's door to return thee again;5Whom nor softly to rest love's tender sanctity suffers,Lost on a couch of lone slumber, unhappily lain;Nor with melody sweet of poets hoary the MusesCheer, while worn with grief nightly the soul is awake:Well-contented am I, that thou thy friendship avowest,10Ask'st the delights of love from me, the pleasure of hymns;Yet lest all unnoted a kindred story bely thee,Deeming, Mallius, I calls of humanity shun;Hear what a grief is mine, what storm of destiny whelms me.Cease to demand of a soul's misery joy's sacrifice.15Once, what time white robes of manhood first did array me,Whiles in jollity life sported a spring holiday,Youth ran riot enow; right well she knows me, the Goddess,She whose honey delights blend with a bitter annoy.Henceforth dies sweet pleasure, in anguish lost of a brother's20Funeral. O poor soul, brother, O heavily ta'en,You all happier hours, you, dying brother, effaced;All our house lies low mournfully buried in you;Quench'd untimely with you joy waits not ever a morrow,Joy which alive your love's bounty fed hour upon hour;25Now, since thou liest dead, heart-banish'd wholly desert meVanities all, each gay freak of a riotous heart.How then obey? You write 'Let not Verona, Catullus,Stay thee, if here each proud quality, Rome's eminence,Freely the light limbs warms thou leavest coldly to languish,'30Infamy lies not there, Mallius, only regret.So forgive me, if I, whom grief so rudely bereaveth,Deal not a joy myself know not, a beggar in all.Books—if they're but scanty, a store full meagre, around me,Rome is alone my life's centre, a mansion of home,35Rome my abode, house, hearth; there wanes and waxes a life's span;Hither of all those choice cases attends me but one.Therefore deem not thou aught spiteful bids me deny thee;Say not 'his heart is false, haply, to jealousy leans,'If nor books I send nor flatter sorrow to silence.40Trust me, were either mine, either unask'd should appear.Goddesses, hide I may not in how great trial upheld meAllius, how no faint charities held me to life.Nor shall time borne fleetly nor years' oblivion everMake such zeal to the night fade, to the darkness, away.45As from me you learn it, of you shall many a thousandLearn it again. Grow old, scroll, to declare it anew.. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .50So to the dead increase honour in year upon year.Nor to the spider, aloft her silk-slight flimsiness hanging,(50)Allius aye unswept moulder, a memory dim.Well you wot, how sore the deceit Amathusia wrought me,Well what a thing in love's treachery made me to fall;55Ready to burst in flame, as burn Trinacrian embers,Burn near Thermopylae's Oeta the fiery springs.(55)Sad, these piteous eyes did waste all wearily weeping,Sad, these cheeks did rain ceaseless a showery woe.Wakeful, as hill-born brook, which, afar off silvery gleaming,60O'er his moss-grown crags leaps with a tumble adown;Brook which awhile headlong o'er steep and valley descending,(60)Crosses anon wide ways populous, hastes to the street;Cheerer in heats o' the sun to the wanderer heavily fuming,Under a drought, when fields swelter agape to the sky.65Then as tossing shipmen amid black surges of Ocean,See some prosperous air gently to calm them arise,(65)Safe thro' Pollux' aid or Castor, alike entreated;Mallius e'en such help brought me, a warder of harm.He in a closed field gave scope of liberal entry;70Gave me an house of love, gave me the lady within,Busily there to renew love's even duty together;(70)Thither afoot mine own mistress, a deity bright,Came, and planted firm her sole most sunny; beneath herLightly the polish'd floor creak'd to the sandal again.75So with passion aflame came wistful LaodamiaInto her husband's home, Protesilaus, of yore;(75)Home o'er-lightly begun, ere slaughter'd victim atoningWaited of heaven's high-thron'd company grace to agree.Nought be to me so dear, O Maid Ramnusian, ever,80I should against that law match me with opposite, I.Bloodless of high sacrifice, how thirsts each desolate altar!(80)This, when her husband fell, Laodamia did heed,Rapt from a bridegroom new, from his arms forced early to part her.Early; for hardly the first winter, another again,85Yet in many a night's long dream had sated her yearning,So that love might wear cheerly, the master away;(85)Which not long should abide, so presag'd surely the Parcae,If to the wars her lord hurry, for Ilion arm.Now to revenge fair Helen, had Argos' chiefs, her puissance,90Set them afield; for Troy rous'd them, a cry not of home,Troy, dark death universal, of Asia grave and Europe,(90)Altar of heroes Troy, Troy of heroical acts,Now to my own dear brother abhorred worker of ancientDeath. Ah woeful soul, brother, unhappily lost,95Ah fair light unblest, in darkness sadly receding,All our house lies low, brother, inearthed in you,(95)Quench'd untimely with you, joy waits not ever a morrow,Joy which alive your love's bounty fed hour upon hour.Now on a distant shore, no kind mortality near him,100Far all household love, every familiar urn,Tomb'd in Troy the malign, in Troy the unholy reposing,(100)Strangely the land's last verge holds him, a dungeon of earth.Thither in haste all Greece, one armed people assembling,Flock'd on an ancient day, left the recesses of home,105Lest in a safe content, unreach'd, his stolen adultress.Paris inarm, in soft luxury quietly lain.(105)E'en such chance, fair queen, such misery, Laodamia,Brought thee a loss as life precious, as heavenly breath.Loss of a bridegroom dear; such whirling passion in eddies110Suck'd thee adown, so drew sheer to a sudden abyss,Deep as Graian abyss near Pheneos o'er Cyllene,(110)Strainer of ooze impure milk'd from a watery fen;Hewn, so stories avouch, in a mountain's kernel; an heroHew'd it, falsely declar'd Amphytrionian, he,115When those monster birds near grim Stymphalus his arrowSmote to the death; such task bade him a dastardly lord.(115)So that another God might tread that portal of heavenFreely, nor Hebe fair wither a chaste eremite.Yet than abyss more deep thy love, thy depth of emotion;120Love which school'd thy lord, made of a master a thrall.Not to a grandsire old so priz'd, so lovely the grandson(120)One dear daughter alone rears i' the soft of his years;He, long-wish'd for, an heir of wealth ancestral arriving,—Scarcely the tablets' marge holds him, a name to the will,125Straight all hopes laugh'd down, each baffled kinsman usurpingLeaves to repose white hairs, stretches, a vulture, away;(125)Not in her own fond mate so turtle snowy delighteth,Tho' unabash'd, 'tis said, she the voluptuous hoursSnatches a thousand kisses, in amorous extasy biting.130Yet, more lightly than all ranges a womanly will.Great their love, their frenzy; but all their frenzy before thee(130)Fail'd, once clasp'd thy lord splendid in aureat hair.Worthy in all or part thee, Laodamia, to rival,Sought me my own sweet love, journey'd awhile to my arms.135Round her playing oft ran Cupid thither or hither,Lustrous, array'd in bright broidery, saffron of hue.(135)What, to Catullus alone if a wayward fancy resort not?Must I pale for a stray frailty, the shame of an hour?Nay; lest all too much such jealous folly provoke her.140Juno's self, a supreme glory celestial, oftCrushes her eager rage, in wedlock-injury flaring,(140)Knowing yet right well Jove, what a losel is he.Yet, for a man with Gods shall never lawfully match him. . . . . . . . . .145. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .150. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .155. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .160. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .Lift thy father, a weak burden, unholpen, abhorr'd.Not that a father's hand my love led to me, nor odoursWafted her home on rich airs, of Assyria born;165 (145)Stealthy the gifts she gave me, a night unspeakable o'er us,Gifts from her husband's dreams verily stolen, his own.Then 'tis enough for me, if mine, mine only remainethThat one day, whose stone shines with an happier hue.So, it is all I can, take, Allius, answer, a little170 (150)Verse to requite thy much friendship, a contrary boon.So your household names no rust nor seamy defacingSoil this day, that new morrow, the next to the last.Gifts full many to these heaven send as largely requiting,Gifts Themis ever wont deal to the pious of yore.175 (155)Joys come plenty to thee, to thy own fair lady together,Come to that house of mirth, come to the lady within;Joy to the forward friend, our love's first fashioner, Anser,Author of all this fair history, founder of all.Lastly beyond them, above them, on her more lovely than even180 (160)Life, my lady, for whose life it is happy to be.
If, when fortune's wrong with bitter misery whelms thee,Thou thy sad tear-scrawl'd letter, a mark to the storm,Send'st, and bid'st me to succour a stranded seaman of Ocean,Toss'd in foam, from death's door to return thee again;5Whom nor softly to rest love's tender sanctity suffers,Lost on a couch of lone slumber, unhappily lain;Nor with melody sweet of poets hoary the MusesCheer, while worn with grief nightly the soul is awake:Well-contented am I, that thou thy friendship avowest,10Ask'st the delights of love from me, the pleasure of hymns;Yet lest all unnoted a kindred story bely thee,Deeming, Mallius, I calls of humanity shun;Hear what a grief is mine, what storm of destiny whelms me.Cease to demand of a soul's misery joy's sacrifice.
15Once, what time white robes of manhood first did array me,Whiles in jollity life sported a spring holiday,Youth ran riot enow; right well she knows me, the Goddess,She whose honey delights blend with a bitter annoy.Henceforth dies sweet pleasure, in anguish lost of a brother's20Funeral. O poor soul, brother, O heavily ta'en,You all happier hours, you, dying brother, effaced;All our house lies low mournfully buried in you;Quench'd untimely with you joy waits not ever a morrow,Joy which alive your love's bounty fed hour upon hour;25Now, since thou liest dead, heart-banish'd wholly desert meVanities all, each gay freak of a riotous heart.
How then obey? You write 'Let not Verona, Catullus,Stay thee, if here each proud quality, Rome's eminence,Freely the light limbs warms thou leavest coldly to languish,'30Infamy lies not there, Mallius, only regret.So forgive me, if I, whom grief so rudely bereaveth,Deal not a joy myself know not, a beggar in all.Books—if they're but scanty, a store full meagre, around me,Rome is alone my life's centre, a mansion of home,35Rome my abode, house, hearth; there wanes and waxes a life's span;Hither of all those choice cases attends me but one.Therefore deem not thou aught spiteful bids me deny thee;Say not 'his heart is false, haply, to jealousy leans,'If nor books I send nor flatter sorrow to silence.40Trust me, were either mine, either unask'd should appear.
Goddesses, hide I may not in how great trial upheld meAllius, how no faint charities held me to life.Nor shall time borne fleetly nor years' oblivion everMake such zeal to the night fade, to the darkness, away.45As from me you learn it, of you shall many a thousandLearn it again. Grow old, scroll, to declare it anew.. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .50So to the dead increase honour in year upon year.Nor to the spider, aloft her silk-slight flimsiness hanging,(50)Allius aye unswept moulder, a memory dim.
Well you wot, how sore the deceit Amathusia wrought me,Well what a thing in love's treachery made me to fall;55Ready to burst in flame, as burn Trinacrian embers,Burn near Thermopylae's Oeta the fiery springs.(55)Sad, these piteous eyes did waste all wearily weeping,Sad, these cheeks did rain ceaseless a showery woe.Wakeful, as hill-born brook, which, afar off silvery gleaming,60O'er his moss-grown crags leaps with a tumble adown;Brook which awhile headlong o'er steep and valley descending,(60)Crosses anon wide ways populous, hastes to the street;Cheerer in heats o' the sun to the wanderer heavily fuming,Under a drought, when fields swelter agape to the sky.
65Then as tossing shipmen amid black surges of Ocean,See some prosperous air gently to calm them arise,(65)Safe thro' Pollux' aid or Castor, alike entreated;Mallius e'en such help brought me, a warder of harm.He in a closed field gave scope of liberal entry;70Gave me an house of love, gave me the lady within,Busily there to renew love's even duty together;(70)Thither afoot mine own mistress, a deity bright,Came, and planted firm her sole most sunny; beneath herLightly the polish'd floor creak'd to the sandal again.
75So with passion aflame came wistful LaodamiaInto her husband's home, Protesilaus, of yore;(75)Home o'er-lightly begun, ere slaughter'd victim atoningWaited of heaven's high-thron'd company grace to agree.Nought be to me so dear, O Maid Ramnusian, ever,80I should against that law match me with opposite, I.Bloodless of high sacrifice, how thirsts each desolate altar!(80)This, when her husband fell, Laodamia did heed,Rapt from a bridegroom new, from his arms forced early to part her.Early; for hardly the first winter, another again,85Yet in many a night's long dream had sated her yearning,So that love might wear cheerly, the master away;(85)Which not long should abide, so presag'd surely the Parcae,If to the wars her lord hurry, for Ilion arm.
Now to revenge fair Helen, had Argos' chiefs, her puissance,90Set them afield; for Troy rous'd them, a cry not of home,Troy, dark death universal, of Asia grave and Europe,(90)Altar of heroes Troy, Troy of heroical acts,
Now to my own dear brother abhorred worker of ancientDeath. Ah woeful soul, brother, unhappily lost,95Ah fair light unblest, in darkness sadly receding,All our house lies low, brother, inearthed in you,(95)Quench'd untimely with you, joy waits not ever a morrow,Joy which alive your love's bounty fed hour upon hour.Now on a distant shore, no kind mortality near him,100Far all household love, every familiar urn,Tomb'd in Troy the malign, in Troy the unholy reposing,(100)Strangely the land's last verge holds him, a dungeon of earth.
Thither in haste all Greece, one armed people assembling,Flock'd on an ancient day, left the recesses of home,105Lest in a safe content, unreach'd, his stolen adultress.Paris inarm, in soft luxury quietly lain.
(105)E'en such chance, fair queen, such misery, Laodamia,Brought thee a loss as life precious, as heavenly breath.Loss of a bridegroom dear; such whirling passion in eddies110Suck'd thee adown, so drew sheer to a sudden abyss,Deep as Graian abyss near Pheneos o'er Cyllene,(110)Strainer of ooze impure milk'd from a watery fen;Hewn, so stories avouch, in a mountain's kernel; an heroHew'd it, falsely declar'd Amphytrionian, he,115When those monster birds near grim Stymphalus his arrowSmote to the death; such task bade him a dastardly lord.(115)So that another God might tread that portal of heavenFreely, nor Hebe fair wither a chaste eremite.Yet than abyss more deep thy love, thy depth of emotion;120Love which school'd thy lord, made of a master a thrall.
Not to a grandsire old so priz'd, so lovely the grandson(120)One dear daughter alone rears i' the soft of his years;He, long-wish'd for, an heir of wealth ancestral arriving,—Scarcely the tablets' marge holds him, a name to the will,125Straight all hopes laugh'd down, each baffled kinsman usurpingLeaves to repose white hairs, stretches, a vulture, away;(125)Not in her own fond mate so turtle snowy delighteth,Tho' unabash'd, 'tis said, she the voluptuous hoursSnatches a thousand kisses, in amorous extasy biting.130Yet, more lightly than all ranges a womanly will.Great their love, their frenzy; but all their frenzy before thee(130)Fail'd, once clasp'd thy lord splendid in aureat hair.
Worthy in all or part thee, Laodamia, to rival,Sought me my own sweet love, journey'd awhile to my arms.135Round her playing oft ran Cupid thither or hither,Lustrous, array'd in bright broidery, saffron of hue.(135)What, to Catullus alone if a wayward fancy resort not?Must I pale for a stray frailty, the shame of an hour?Nay; lest all too much such jealous folly provoke her.140Juno's self, a supreme glory celestial, oftCrushes her eager rage, in wedlock-injury flaring,(140)Knowing yet right well Jove, what a losel is he.
Yet, for a man with Gods shall never lawfully match him. . . . . . . . . .145. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .150. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .155. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .160. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .Lift thy father, a weak burden, unholpen, abhorr'd.Not that a father's hand my love led to me, nor odoursWafted her home on rich airs, of Assyria born;165 (145)Stealthy the gifts she gave me, a night unspeakable o'er us,Gifts from her husband's dreams verily stolen, his own.Then 'tis enough for me, if mine, mine only remainethThat one day, whose stone shines with an happier hue.
So, it is all I can, take, Allius, answer, a little170 (150)Verse to requite thy much friendship, a contrary boon.So your household names no rust nor seamy defacingSoil this day, that new morrow, the next to the last.Gifts full many to these heaven send as largely requiting,Gifts Themis ever wont deal to the pious of yore.175 (155)Joys come plenty to thee, to thy own fair lady together,Come to that house of mirth, come to the lady within;Joy to the forward friend, our love's first fashioner, Anser,Author of all this fair history, founder of all.Lastly beyond them, above them, on her more lovely than even180 (160)Life, my lady, for whose life it is happy to be.
Rufus, it is no wonder if yet no woman assentingSoftly to thine embrace tender a delicate arm.Not tho' a gift should seek, some robe most filmy, to move her;Not for a cherish'd gem's clarity, lucid of hue.5Deep in a valley, thy arms, such evil story maligns thee,Rufus, a villain goat houses, a grim denizen.All are afraid of it, all; what wonder? a rascally creature,Verily! not with such company dally the fair.Slay, nor pity the brute, our nostril's rueful aversion.10Else admire not if each ravisher angrily fly.
Rufus, it is no wonder if yet no woman assentingSoftly to thine embrace tender a delicate arm.Not tho' a gift should seek, some robe most filmy, to move her;Not for a cherish'd gem's clarity, lucid of hue.
5Deep in a valley, thy arms, such evil story maligns thee,Rufus, a villain goat houses, a grim denizen.All are afraid of it, all; what wonder? a rascally creature,Verily! not with such company dally the fair.
Slay, nor pity the brute, our nostril's rueful aversion.10Else admire not if each ravisher angrily fly.
Saith my lady to me, no man shall wed me, but onlyThou; no other if e'en Jove should approach me to woo;Yea; but a woman's words, when a lover fondly desireth,Limn them on ebbing floods, write on a wintery gale.
Saith my lady to me, no man shall wed me, but onlyThou; no other if e'en Jove should approach me to woo;Yea; but a woman's words, when a lover fondly desireth,Limn them on ebbing floods, write on a wintery gale.
Lesbia, thou didst swear thou knewest only Catullus,Cared'st not, if him thine arms chained, a Jove to retain.Then not alone I loved thee, as each light lover a mistress,Lov'd as a father his own sons, or an heir to the name.5Now I know thee aright; so, if more hotly desiring,Yet must count thee a soul cheaper, a frailty to scorn.'Friend,' thou say'st, 'you cannot.' Alas! such injury leavethBlindly to doat poor love's folly, malignly to will.
Lesbia, thou didst swear thou knewest only Catullus,Cared'st not, if him thine arms chained, a Jove to retain.Then not alone I loved thee, as each light lover a mistress,Lov'd as a father his own sons, or an heir to the name.
5Now I know thee aright; so, if more hotly desiring,Yet must count thee a soul cheaper, a frailty to scorn.'Friend,' thou say'st, 'you cannot.' Alas! such injury leavethBlindly to doat poor love's folly, malignly to will.
Never again think any to work aught kindly soever,Dream that in any abides honour, of injury free.Love is a debt in arrear; time's parted service avails not;Rather is only the more sorrow, a heavier ill:5Chiefly to me, whom none so fierce, so deadly deceivingTroubleth, as he whose friend only but inly was I.
Never again think any to work aught kindly soever,Dream that in any abides honour, of injury free.Love is a debt in arrear; time's parted service avails not;Rather is only the more sorrow, a heavier ill:5Chiefly to me, whom none so fierce, so deadly deceivingTroubleth, as he whose friend only but inly was I.
Gellius heard that his uncle in ire exploded, if anyDared, some wanton, a fault practise, a levity speak.Not to be slain himself, see Gellius handle his uncle'sLady; no Harpocrates muter, his uncle is hush'd.5So what he aim'd at, arriv'd at, anon let Gellius e'en thisUncle abuse; not a word yet will his uncle assay.
Gellius heard that his uncle in ire exploded, if anyDared, some wanton, a fault practise, a levity speak.Not to be slain himself, see Gellius handle his uncle'sLady; no Harpocrates muter, his uncle is hush'd.5So what he aim'd at, arriv'd at, anon let Gellius e'en thisUncle abuse; not a word yet will his uncle assay.
Brothers twain has Gallus, of whom one owns a delightfulSon; his brother a fair lady, delightfuller yet.Gallant sure is Gallus, a pair so dainty uniting;Lovely the lady, the lad lovely, a company sweet.5Foolish sure is Gallus, an o'er-incurious husband;Uncle, a wife once taught luxury, stops not at one.
Brothers twain has Gallus, of whom one owns a delightfulSon; his brother a fair lady, delightfuller yet.Gallant sure is Gallus, a pair so dainty uniting;Lovely the lady, the lad lovely, a company sweet.5Foolish sure is Gallus, an o'er-incurious husband;Uncle, a wife once taught luxury, stops not at one.
Lesbius, handsome is he. Why not? if Lesbia loves himFar above all your tribe, angry Catullus, or you.Only let all your tribe sell off, and follow, Catullus,Kiss but his handsome lips children, a plenary three.
Lesbius, handsome is he. Why not? if Lesbia loves himFar above all your tribe, angry Catullus, or you.Only let all your tribe sell off, and follow, Catullus,Kiss but his handsome lips children, a plenary three.
What? not in all this city, Juventius, ever a gallantPoorly to win love's fresh favour of amorous you,Only the lack-love signor, a wretch from sickly Pisaurum,Guest of your hearth, no gilt statue as ashy as he?5Now your very delight, whose faithless fancy CatullusBanisheth, Ah light-reck'd lightness, apostasy vile!
What? not in all this city, Juventius, ever a gallantPoorly to win love's fresh favour of amorous you,Only the lack-love signor, a wretch from sickly Pisaurum,Guest of your hearth, no gilt statue as ashy as he?5Now your very delight, whose faithless fancy CatullusBanisheth, Ah light-reck'd lightness, apostasy vile!
Wouldst thou, Quintius, have me a debtor ready to owe theeEyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes?One thing take not from me, to me more goodly than evenEyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes.
Wouldst thou, Quintius, have me a debtor ready to owe theeEyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes?One thing take not from me, to me more goodly than evenEyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes.
Lesbia while her lord stands near, rails ever upon me.This to the fond weak fool seemeth a mighty delight.Dolt, you see not at all. Could she forget me, to rail not,Nought were amiss; if now scold she, or if she revile,5'Tis not alone to remember; a shrewder stimulus arms her,Anger; her heart doth burn verily, thus to revile.
Lesbia while her lord stands near, rails ever upon me.This to the fond weak fool seemeth a mighty delight.Dolt, you see not at all. Could she forget me, to rail not,Nought were amiss; if now scold she, or if she revile,5'Tis not alone to remember; a shrewder stimulus arms her,Anger; her heart doth burn verily, thus to revile.
StipendsArrius ever on opportunityshtipends,Ambushashambushstill Arrius used to declaim.Then, hoped fondly the words were a marvel of articulation,While with anhimmense 'hambush' arose from his heart.5So his mother of old, so e'en spoke Liber his uncle,Credibly; so grandsire, grandam alike did agree.Syria took him away; all ears had rest for a moment;Lightly the lips those words, slightly could utter again.None was afraid any more of a sound so clumsy returning;10Sudden a solemn fright seized us, a message arrives.'News from Ionia country; the sea, since Arrius enter'd,Changed; 'twasIonianonce, now 'twasHionianall.'
StipendsArrius ever on opportunityshtipends,Ambushashambushstill Arrius used to declaim.Then, hoped fondly the words were a marvel of articulation,While with anhimmense 'hambush' arose from his heart.5So his mother of old, so e'en spoke Liber his uncle,Credibly; so grandsire, grandam alike did agree.
Syria took him away; all ears had rest for a moment;Lightly the lips those words, slightly could utter again.None was afraid any more of a sound so clumsy returning;10Sudden a solemn fright seized us, a message arrives.'News from Ionia country; the sea, since Arrius enter'd,Changed; 'twasIonianonce, now 'twasHionianall.'
Half I hate, half love. How so? one haply requireth.Nay, I know not; alas feel it, in agony groan.
Half I hate, half love. How so? one haply requireth.Nay, I know not; alas feel it, in agony groan.
Lovely to many a man is Quintia; shapely, majestic,Stately, to me; each point singly 'tis easy to grant.'Lovely' the whole, I grant not; in all that bodily largeness,Lives not a grain of salt, breathes not a charm anywhere.5Lesbia—she is lovely, an even temper of utmostBeauty, that every charm stealeth of every fair.
Lovely to many a man is Quintia; shapely, majestic,Stately, to me; each point singly 'tis easy to grant.'Lovely' the whole, I grant not; in all that bodily largeness,Lives not a grain of salt, breathes not a charm anywhere.5Lesbia—she is lovely, an even temper of utmostBeauty, that every charm stealeth of every fair.
Ne'er shall woman avouch herself so rightly beloved,Friend, as rightly thou art, Lesbia, lovely to me.Ne'er was a bond so firm, no troth so faithfully plighted,Such as against our love's venture in honour am I.5Now so sadly my heart, dear Lesbia, draws me asunder,So in her own misspent worship uneasily lost,Wert thou blameless in all, I may not longer approve thee,Do anything thou wilt, cannot an enemy be.
Ne'er shall woman avouch herself so rightly beloved,Friend, as rightly thou art, Lesbia, lovely to me.Ne'er was a bond so firm, no troth so faithfully plighted,Such as against our love's venture in honour am I.
5Now so sadly my heart, dear Lesbia, draws me asunder,So in her own misspent worship uneasily lost,Wert thou blameless in all, I may not longer approve thee,Do anything thou wilt, cannot an enemy be.
If to a man bring joy past service dearly remember'd,When to the soul her thought speaks, to be blameless of ill;Faith not rudely profan'd, nor in oath or charter abusedHeaven, a God's mis-sworn sanctity, deadly to men.5Then doth a life-long pleasure await thee surely, Catullus,Pleasure of all this love's traitorous injury born.Whatso a man may speak, whom charity leads to another,Whatso enact, by me spoken or acted is all.Waste on a traitorous heart, nor finding kindly requital.10Therefore cease, nor still bleed agoniz'd any more.Make thee as iron a soul, thyself draw back from affliction.Yea, tho' a God say nay, be not unhappy for aye.What? it is hard long love so lightly to leave in a moment?Hard; yet abides this one duty, to do it: obey.15Here lies safety alone, one victory must not fail thee.One last stake to be lost haply, perhaps to be won.O great Gods immortal, if you can pity or everLighted above dark death's shadow, a help to the lost;Ah! look, a wretch, on me; if white and blameless in all I20Liv'd, then take this long canker of anguish away.If to my inmost veins, like dull death drowsily creeping,Every delight, all heart's pleasure it wholly benumbs.Not anymore I pray for a love so faulty returning,Not that a wanton abide chastely, she may not again.25Only for health I ask, a disease so deadly to banish.Gods vouchsafe it, as I ask, that am harmless of ill.
If to a man bring joy past service dearly remember'd,When to the soul her thought speaks, to be blameless of ill;Faith not rudely profan'd, nor in oath or charter abusedHeaven, a God's mis-sworn sanctity, deadly to men.5Then doth a life-long pleasure await thee surely, Catullus,Pleasure of all this love's traitorous injury born.
Whatso a man may speak, whom charity leads to another,Whatso enact, by me spoken or acted is all.Waste on a traitorous heart, nor finding kindly requital.10Therefore cease, nor still bleed agoniz'd any more.
Make thee as iron a soul, thyself draw back from affliction.Yea, tho' a God say nay, be not unhappy for aye.What? it is hard long love so lightly to leave in a moment?Hard; yet abides this one duty, to do it: obey.15Here lies safety alone, one victory must not fail thee.One last stake to be lost haply, perhaps to be won.
O great Gods immortal, if you can pity or everLighted above dark death's shadow, a help to the lost;Ah! look, a wretch, on me; if white and blameless in all I20Liv'd, then take this long canker of anguish away.If to my inmost veins, like dull death drowsily creeping,Every delight, all heart's pleasure it wholly benumbs.
Not anymore I pray for a love so faulty returning,Not that a wanton abide chastely, she may not again.25Only for health I ask, a disease so deadly to banish.Gods vouchsafe it, as I ask, that am harmless of ill.
Rufus, a friend so vainly believ'd, so wrongly relied in,(Vainly? alas the reward fail'd not, a heavier ill;)Could'st thou thus steal on me, a lurking viper, an achingFire to the bones, nor leave aught to delight any more?5Nought to delight any more! ah cruel poison of equalLives! ah breasts that grew each to the other awhile!Yet far most this grieves me, to think thy slaver abhorredFoully my own love's lips soileth, a purity rare.Thou shalt surely atone thine injury: centuries harken,10Know thee afar; grow old, fame, to declare him anew.
Rufus, a friend so vainly believ'd, so wrongly relied in,(Vainly? alas the reward fail'd not, a heavier ill;)Could'st thou thus steal on me, a lurking viper, an achingFire to the bones, nor leave aught to delight any more?5Nought to delight any more! ah cruel poison of equalLives! ah breasts that grew each to the other awhile!Yet far most this grieves me, to think thy slaver abhorredFoully my own love's lips soileth, a purity rare.Thou shalt surely atone thine injury: centuries harken,10Know thee afar; grow old, fame, to declare him anew.
Gellius, how if a man in lust with a mother, a sisterRioteth, one uncheck'd night, to iniquity bare?How if a man's dark passion an aunt's own chastity spare not?Canst thou tell what vast infamy lieth on him?5Infamy lieth on him, no farthest Tethys, or ancientOcean, of hundred streams father, abolisheth yet.Infamy none o'ersteps, nor ventures any beyond it.Not tho' a scorpion heat melt him, his own paramour.
Gellius, how if a man in lust with a mother, a sisterRioteth, one uncheck'd night, to iniquity bare?How if a man's dark passion an aunt's own chastity spare not?Canst thou tell what vast infamy lieth on him?
5Infamy lieth on him, no farthest Tethys, or ancientOcean, of hundred streams father, abolisheth yet.Infamy none o'ersteps, nor ventures any beyond it.Not tho' a scorpion heat melt him, his own paramour.
Gellius—he's full meagre. It is no wonder, a friendlyMother, a sister is his loveable, healthy withal.Then so friendly an uncle, a world of pretty relations.Must not a man so blest meagre abide to the last?5Yea, let his hand touch only what hands touch only to trespass;Reason enough to become meagre, enough to remain.
Gellius—he's full meagre. It is no wonder, a friendlyMother, a sister is his loveable, healthy withal.Then so friendly an uncle, a world of pretty relations.Must not a man so blest meagre abide to the last?5Yea, let his hand touch only what hands touch only to trespass;Reason enough to become meagre, enough to remain.
Rise from a mother's shame with Gellius hatefully wedded,One to be taught gross rites Persic, a Magian he.Weds with a mother a son, so needs should a Magian issue,Save in her evil creed Persia determineth ill.5Then shall a son, so born, chant down high favour of heaven,Melting lapt in flame fatly the slippery caul.
Rise from a mother's shame with Gellius hatefully wedded,One to be taught gross rites Persic, a Magian he.Weds with a mother a son, so needs should a Magian issue,Save in her evil creed Persia determineth ill.5Then shall a son, so born, chant down high favour of heaven,Melting lapt in flame fatly the slippery caul.
Think not a hope so false rose, Gellius, in me to find theeFaithful in all this love's anguish ineffable yet,For that in heart I knew thee, had in thee honour imagin'd,Held thee a soul to abhor vileness or any reproach.5Only in her, I knew, thou found'st not a mother, a sister,Her that awhile for love wearily made me to pine.Yea tho' mutual use did bind us straitly together,Scarcely methought could lie cause to desert me therein.Thou found'st reason enow; so joys thy spirit in every10Shame, wherever is aught heinous, of infamy born.
Think not a hope so false rose, Gellius, in me to find theeFaithful in all this love's anguish ineffable yet,For that in heart I knew thee, had in thee honour imagin'd,Held thee a soul to abhor vileness or any reproach.
5Only in her, I knew, thou found'st not a mother, a sister,Her that awhile for love wearily made me to pine.Yea tho' mutual use did bind us straitly together,Scarcely methought could lie cause to desert me therein.
Thou found'st reason enow; so joys thy spirit in every10Shame, wherever is aught heinous, of infamy born.
Lesbia doth but rail, rail ever upon me, nor endethEver. A life I stake, Lesbia loves me at heart.Ask me a sign? Our score runs parallel. I that abuse herEver, a life to the stake, Lesbia, love thee at heart.
Lesbia doth but rail, rail ever upon me, nor endethEver. A life I stake, Lesbia loves me at heart.Ask me a sign? Our score runs parallel. I that abuse herEver, a life to the stake, Lesbia, love thee at heart.
Lightly methinks I reck if Cæsar smile not upon me:Care not, whether a white, whether a swarth-skin, is he.
Lightly methinks I reck if Cæsar smile not upon me:Care not, whether a white, whether a swarth-skin, is he.
Mentula—wanton is he; his calling sure is a wanton's.Herbs to the pot, 'tis said wisely, the name to the man.
Mentula—wanton is he; his calling sure is a wanton's.Herbs to the pot, 'tis said wisely, the name to the man.
Nine times winter had end, nine times flush'd summer in harvest,Ere to the world gave forth Cinna, the labour of years,Zmyrna; but in one month Hortensius hundred on hundredVerses, an unripe birth feeble, of hurry begot.5Zmyrna to far Satrachus, to the stream of Cyprus, ascendeth;Zmyrna with eyes unborn study the centuries hoar.Padus her own ill child shall bury, Volusius' annals;In them a mackerel oft house him, a wrapper of ease.Dear to my heart be a friend's unbulky memorial ever;10Cherish an Antimachus, weighty as empty, the mob.
Nine times winter had end, nine times flush'd summer in harvest,Ere to the world gave forth Cinna, the labour of years,Zmyrna; but in one month Hortensius hundred on hundredVerses, an unripe birth feeble, of hurry begot.
5Zmyrna to far Satrachus, to the stream of Cyprus, ascendeth;Zmyrna with eyes unborn study the centuries hoar.Padus her own ill child shall bury, Volusius' annals;In them a mackerel oft house him, a wrapper of ease.
Dear to my heart be a friend's unbulky memorial ever;10Cherish an Antimachus, weighty as empty, the mob.
If to the silent dead aught sweet or tender ariseth,Calvus, of our dim grief's common humanity born;When to a love long cold some pensive pity recals us,When for a friend long lost wakes some unhappy regret;5Not so deeply, be sure, Quintilia's early departingGrieves her, as in thy love dureth a plenary joy.
If to the silent dead aught sweet or tender ariseth,Calvus, of our dim grief's common humanity born;When to a love long cold some pensive pity recals us,When for a friend long lost wakes some unhappy regret;5Not so deeply, be sure, Quintilia's early departingGrieves her, as in thy love dureth a plenary joy.
Asks some booby rebuke, some prolix prattler a judgment?Vettius, all were said verily truer of you.Tongue so noisome as yours, come chance, might surely on orderBend to the mire, or lick dirt from a beggarly shoe.5Would you on all of us, all, bring, Vettius, utterly ruin?Speak; not a doubt, 'twill come utterly, ruin on all.
Asks some booby rebuke, some prolix prattler a judgment?Vettius, all were said verily truer of you.Tongue so noisome as yours, come chance, might surely on orderBend to the mire, or lick dirt from a beggarly shoe.5Would you on all of us, all, bring, Vettius, utterly ruin?Speak; not a doubt, 'twill come utterly, ruin on all.
Dear one, a kiss I stole, while you did wanton a-playing,Sweet ambrosia, love, never as honily sweet.Dearly the deed I paid for; an hour's long misery waningEnded, as I agoniz'd hung to the point of a cross,5Hoping vain purgation; alas! no potion of anyTears could abate that fair angriness, youthful as you.Hardly the sin was in act, your lips did many a fallingDrop dilute, which anon every finger awayCleansed apace, lest still my mouth's infection abiding10Stain, like slaver abhorr'd breath'd from a foul fricatrice.Add, that a booty to love in misery me to deliverYou did spare not, a fell worker of all agonies,So that, again transmuted, a kiss ambrosia seemingSugary, turn'd to the strange harshness of harsh hellebore.15Then such dolorous end since your poor lover awaiteth,Never a kiss will I venture, a theft any more.
Dear one, a kiss I stole, while you did wanton a-playing,Sweet ambrosia, love, never as honily sweet.
Dearly the deed I paid for; an hour's long misery waningEnded, as I agoniz'd hung to the point of a cross,5Hoping vain purgation; alas! no potion of anyTears could abate that fair angriness, youthful as you.
Hardly the sin was in act, your lips did many a fallingDrop dilute, which anon every finger awayCleansed apace, lest still my mouth's infection abiding10Stain, like slaver abhorr'd breath'd from a foul fricatrice.
Add, that a booty to love in misery me to deliverYou did spare not, a fell worker of all agonies,So that, again transmuted, a kiss ambrosia seemingSugary, turn'd to the strange harshness of harsh hellebore.
15Then such dolorous end since your poor lover awaiteth,Never a kiss will I venture, a theft any more.
Quintius, Aufilena; to Caelius, Aufilenus;Lovers each, fair flower either of youths Veronese.One to the brother bends, and one to the sister. A nobleFriendship, if e'er was true friendship, a rare brotherhood.5Ask me to which I lean? You, Caelius: yours a devotionSingle, a faith of tried quality, steady to me;Into my inmost veins when love sank fiercely to burn them.Mighty be your bright love, Caelius, happy be you!
Quintius, Aufilena; to Caelius, Aufilenus;Lovers each, fair flower either of youths Veronese.One to the brother bends, and one to the sister. A nobleFriendship, if e'er was true friendship, a rare brotherhood.
5Ask me to which I lean? You, Caelius: yours a devotionSingle, a faith of tried quality, steady to me;Into my inmost veins when love sank fiercely to burn them.Mighty be your bright love, Caelius, happy be you!
Borne o'er many a land, o'er many a level of ocean,Here to the grave I come, brother, of holy repose,Sadly the last poor gifts, death's simple duty, to bring thee;Unto the silent dust vainly to murmur a cry.5Since thy form deep-shrouded an evil destiny takethFrom me, O hapless ghost, brother, O heavily ta'en,Yet this bounty the while, these gifts ancestral of usanceHomely, the sad slight store piety grants to the tomb;Drench'd in a brother's tears, and weeping freshly, receive them;10Yea, take, brother, a long Ave, a timeless adieu.
Borne o'er many a land, o'er many a level of ocean,Here to the grave I come, brother, of holy repose,Sadly the last poor gifts, death's simple duty, to bring thee;Unto the silent dust vainly to murmur a cry.
5Since thy form deep-shrouded an evil destiny takethFrom me, O hapless ghost, brother, O heavily ta'en,Yet this bounty the while, these gifts ancestral of usanceHomely, the sad slight store piety grants to the tomb;Drench'd in a brother's tears, and weeping freshly, receive them;10Yea, take, brother, a long Ave, a timeless adieu.