Ho to the fields, whose
treasure
yields,
Your food and lowly portion.
Your food and lowly portion.
Catullus - Lamb - A Comedy in Verse
See plan.
CATULLUS
o
oooooo o
PSRISTiTX
O O O OOP
FO0THGHT5
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? THE TIME.
It is early morn of the Spring of the year of 57 B. C.
As the curtain ascends, the faint glimmer of the morning
star is seen on the horizon.
DISCOVERED.
Catullus is discovered reclining upon a couch placed
in center stage; back of him is the peristyle, and beyond
the blue vraters of the Benacus. In the distance may be
seen the snow-capped peaks of the Alps. Catullus is a
handsome man six feet or more in height, but his gray
hair and wejry eyes denote one given to dissipation.
About hkn seated upon the floor in graceful attitudes,
are four yo\jng maids, his slaves, Phaedria, Thessaia,
Quintia and Celia; they have their lutes and lyres, and
wear chaplets of laurel and roses upon their heads. As
the curtain ascends, they sing to Catullus and accompany
themselves upcw their lutes.
PRELUDE.
By tm orchestra precedes curtain.
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? "THE PLEA OF LOVE. "
The Lyrics.
No. I. Prelude preceeding curtain by Orchestra.
2. "Now spring renews her gentle charms" -- Catul-
lus. Translation o? W. Peter, sung by Chorus of
Maidens.
3. "No nymph among the much loved few" -- Catul-
lus. Translation of Hon. G. Lamb. Solo by Quin-
tia.
4. Chorus of Husbandmen (off scene) -- O. R. Lamb.
5. "Sweet Sirmio, Sweet Sirmio. " -- Catullus. Trans-
lation of Thomas Moore, solo by Minstral.
6. "Mourn all ye Loves and Graces Mourn -- Catul-
lus. Translation of Hon, G. Lamb, solo by Min-
stral.
7. Hermia's plea to Catullus adapted from -- Agathias.
Translation of J. H. Mirivale, solo by Hermia.
8. Hymn to Love, Duo Hermia and Julian -- O. R.
Lamb.
9. The Plea of Love, Duo Hermia anl Julian -- O. R.
Lamb.
10. The Rondelay of the Graces, Trd -- O. R. Lamb.
11. "The Spring hath come," adaptei from the Greek
-- O. R. Lamb.
12. The Epithalamium -- Catullus. -- Translation of Sir
C. A. Elton, sung by full Cho'us.
13. The Wedding March, by Orchestra.
14. The Chorus of Husbandnvn (off scene) -- O. R.
Lamb.
15. Concluding Chorus, The ''lea of Love (off scene)
--- O. R. Lamb,
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? SCENE I.
MUSICAL No. 2.
"SPRING SONG. "
Sung by the Chorus of Maidens, at the conclusion of
the Prelude -- as the curtain ascends.
I.
Now Spring renews her gentle charms,
And lulled in zephyr's balmy arms.
Soft grows the angry sk3r;
Haste then, and leaving Phrygia's plains.
Essaying Nicae's rich domains,
To Asia's Cities fly.
II.
My soul all trembling, pants to stay.
My bounding feet the call obey;
Friends of my youth farewell.
Loved friends, with whom I left my home,
Now doomed through various ways to roam,
In different lands to dwell.
IIL
The Spring renews her gentle charms,
And lulled in zephyr's balmy arms.
Soft grows the angry sky.
My soul all trembling pants to stray.
My bounding feet the call obey.
To Asia's cities fly.
CATULLUS.
(Distractedly. ) The measure is too sad, sweet maids,
essay a merrier air Sing ye of love.
QUINTIA.
My lord, you die of love already; why add unto your
sorrow?
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? CATULLUS.
Pass me a cup of wine, good Quintia. The fleeting
memories of happy days instil not only grief, but mix
there with a discontent that rends my heart in twain. Oh,
had my Lesbia lived, how happy would our lot have been;
but now, alas; (He drinks the wine).
QUINTIA.
My lord, I beg thee let these memories pass. For nights
thou hast not closed thine eyes, and sleep evades thee,
as the Echo mocks us when we sing.
CATULLUS.
Could I but conquer this hell of discontent -- this fire
of love that now consumes my heart, then might I rest
in peace. Another cup of wine, good Quintia.
QUINTIA.
Nay, my lord, refrain I prithee; the wine but makes
thy humor worse. -- Good master, v/e thy hand-maids love
thee much and faithfully our vigil keep, but now the
night is gone and weariness o'ertakes us quite. Repose
thine head, and I will bathe thy brow with this perfume.
CATULLUS.
What is the hour, Quintia?
QUINTIA.
The moon hath set. The Pleiadese fade in the distant
sky, and Phospor now the early dawn proclaims.
CATULLUS.
How long the night! (looking at the heavens) Brave
Orion in his glory wanes, the day will soon be breaking!
Essay, another measure, child) -- sing thou of love, my love,
my Lesbia.
QUINTIA.
I will, my lord.
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? CATULLUS.
And then as she was wont to do, bathe thou my brow
with sweet perfume. Perchance the gods may hear thy
plea and send sweet sleep to solace me.
No. 3.
QUINTIA SINGS OF LESBIA.
No nymphs among the much loved few,
Is loved as thou art loved by me;
No love was e'er so fond, so true,
As my fond love, sweet maid, for thee.
IL
Yes, e'en thy faults, bewitching dear!
With such delights my soul possess;
That whether faithless, or sincere,
I cannot love thee more, nor less!
III.
No nymph, among the much loved few,
Is loved as thou art loved by me;
No love was e're so kind, so true.
As my fond love, sweet maid for thee.
CATULLUS.
(Half dreaming, half awake). How sweet, how sweet.
Oft have I sung that song.
My child sing it again I pray,
And with thy strain, allay my pain,
And drive m. y cares away.
r Quintia repeats the song, and as she concludes ")
j Catullus falls into a gentle sleep. As he sleeps the I
j Minstrals cease their song and there is heard the j
l^ Husbandmen singing in the distance. j
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? No. 4.
CHORUS OF HUSBANDMEN, ETC.
(Off Scene. )
PART I.
Tenors and Basses.
The night is gone, the day is come,
Ho sluggards be awaking,
Come join our throng, with festal song,
For lo! the dawn is breaking.
Ho to the fields, whose treasure yields,
Your food and lowly portion.
Then let's away, before the day,
And seek the laborer's fortune.
PART II.
Sopranos and Altos.
Faithful little mothers.
Patient little wives.
We seek our toil, amid the soil,
The honey and the hives.
Our task is just beginning,
And as we join the throng.
We greet the day with rondelay.
And sing our merry song.
PART III.
Ho, ho, away we go,
Hither away, thither away,
So, so, merrily go
Singing our rondelay.
PART IV.
Tenors and Basses.
Then plant the seed, and kill the weed,
For Nature's most compelling.
She'll bring the rain, and ripe the grain.
With the harvest rich excelling.
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? Then to your toil, ye sons of soil,
And happy be your portion,
For v/e're away, before the day,
To seek the laborer's fortune.
PART V.
Sopranos, Tenors, Altos, Basses.
Ho, ho, away we go.
Hither away, thither away.
So, so, merrily go,
Singing our rondelay.
( At the conclusion of the chorus of husbandmen
Catullus awakes. The dawn is breaking, the stars
grow dim, the sun at last breaks through the mist
and shines upon the lake; the birds add their chorus
of joy, and where before all was dark and dreary,
the scene becomes joyful and resplendent. The min-
strals now arouse themselves, arise and pass be-
hind the couch of Catullus, who entranced at the
beauty of the scene and refreshed by the few mo-
ments of repose, arises and stands spell bound, ad-
miring the scene. The beautiful music which has
accompanied this scenic display now ceases momen-
, tarily and Catullus speaks.
CATULLUS.
How fair the morn, how joyfully the birds their mad-
rigals proclaim! How sweet the perfume of the thyme,
as on the balmy air its odor, gently wafts to me. How
fair! How fair! All nature seems to smile, and I at last
in sweet content her beauties may survey.
QUINTIA.
My lord, thy sleep hath much refreshed thee. Then wilt
thou not from out thy store of happiness repay thy faith-
ful slaves, v/ho through the weary night have watched
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? o'er thee and given solace in thy discontent. A boon we
beg of thee, a boon my lord.
ALL.
Aye! aye! a boon.
CATULLUS.
What would ye that I grant?
QUINTIA.
I tremble least I ask, that which in truth may vex thee
sore.
CATULLUS.
Am I not rich and generous? Come, speak my child.
QUINTIA.
Aye, rich thou art, yet art thou poorer than the meanest
slave.
CATULLUS.
Speak not in riddles thus, how am I poorer than the
meanest slave?
QUINTIA.
Once thou wert loved, now thou art sad and lonely. Thy
Lesbia dead, thou seekest in the cup to drown thy grief.
Beware the wine though it be red for they who seek
their solace in the grape to Circe's spell succumb.
CATULLUS.
(Seriously. ) Thou speakest truth my child, -- yet grief
and discontent rend me in twain and if I drown my sor-
row thus, it is because my love is great. They know not
grief who in their souls have not a great capacity for love
-- (pause). And yet thou speakest truth, for Circe's spell
is death.
QUINTIA.
Then forswear the cup my lord, and grant thy gentle
hand-maid's boon.
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? ALL.
Aye, good master, forswear, forswear.
CATULLUS.
Now by the Kingdom of the Powers above, by Jove and
all the gods on high, I swear that I shall mend my evil
ways, and be the man that ye would have me be.
QUINTIA.
O, good my lord.
CATULLUS.
And though I ne'er may Lesbia's equal
View, nor hope for love such as she
Gave me from her bounteous store.
Yet by Minerva and the gods I swear,
To be the friend of lovers evermore.
For love alone this wondrous world doeth move
And life is death, without the touch of love.
But with the coming of its gentle sway.
Our sorrows vanish, darkness turns to day;
Then to all lovers shall I freely give
My wealth, my aid, that they may love and live.
QUINTIA.
O, good, O, gentle master, now dost thou fill our hearts
with joy and make us glad indeed. Behold thy hand-maids
kneeling at thy feet in silence do bespeak their gratitude.
CATULLUS.
Such fealty as this would touch a heart less tender than
mine own, and I were most unworthy of it, if e'er my oath
I should disclaim. Arise my children and let your weary
eyes seek some repose. And then before the fleeting day
is gone, come hither all, and vent your joy in song.
Exeunt Quintia, Thessala, Celia, Phaedria, via cham-
ber (right).
^'' Curtain
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? SCENE II.
Enter Davus (a youth).
DAVUS.
My lord, a messenger from the Province of Bithynia
awaits without.
CATULLUS.
What manner of man is he?
DAVUS.
An old man gray with years, yet rugged and of gentle
countenance.
CATULLUS.
'Tis Philto -- bring him hither at once.
, Enter Philto and Davus. >
\ Philto is an aged man. He bears a jar of wine which f
J he lays upon the ground, this done, he bows to C
\ Catullus. )
CATULLUS.
Welcome good Philto, give me thine hand, and say that
Caius Memmius my friend is well.
PHILTO.
He is my lord and hither comes upon his way to Rome,
where some affairs of state do take his care. This wine
he sends and bids ye all be merry.
CATULLUS.
Thanks good Philto, how fares his son. He was a hand-
some boy when last I saw him.
PHILTO.
Young Julian hath my master sent to Rome with news
of much import from Caesar.
CATULLUS.
I v/ould the boy were here for I do love him much.
Order the feast prepared good Davus, for Memmius hath
a retinue that will affray our cook more than a Roman
Legion. Go thou good Philto and essay our wine.
Exeunt Philto and Davus left.
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? SCENE III.
Enter Myrson (a youth).
MYRSON.
A messenger from Rome awaits without my lord. He
says he is the slave of thine old friend, Lucretius.
CATULLUS.
'Tis well, then bid him enter.
(Enter Myrson and Gripus. )
CATULLUS.
Welcome, good Gripus. How flourishes the Capitol
since I have hid me in this sweet retreat.
GRIPUS.
All goes well, my lord since Caesar steers the ship of
state, but in the household of my master, events run not
so smoothly in their course.
CATULLUS.
What's gone amiss, speak boy, speak.
GRIPUS.
Thou knowest well, O, Catullus, how happily is my mas-
ter v/ed, how rich he hath become, and how his only
daughter Hermia, now sixteen summers past, is sought in
marriage by the young gallants of Rome.
CATULLUS.
All this I know nor could I wish for fortune less, v/ere
I a maid.
GRIPUS.
Not so, my lord, Hermia will favor none save v/ith dis-
dain. Her mother pleads that she is much too young to
wed, and sighs and tears now rend our home where once
such happiness prevailed.
CATULLUS.
Hath Hermia no lover?
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? GRIPUS.
I know of none -- i' faith -- she vows that she will never
wed, no matter whom the man may be.
CATULLUS.
A sure proof of her inconstancy -- What says Lucretius
to this?
GRIPUS.
He's sore perplexed, my lord, and comes to seek thy
counsel.
CATULLUS.
Comes Hermia and her lady mother with Lucretius?
GRIPUS.
Aye my lord -- ^they journey leisurely from Rome and
e're the day is gone will seek the shelter of thy roof.
CATULLUS.
Now hast thou brought me news indeed. Take this,
good Gripus, and bid them welcome to fair Sirmio. (He
hands Gripus a ring) and thou, Myrson, prepare the best
within the palace for my friends.
Exeunt Myrson and Gripus right.
CATULLUS.
Ho, minstral, hither, accord thy lyre and sing a joyful
lay. Sing thou of Sirmio, for fortune smiles on me today.
CATULLUS
o
oooooo o
PSRISTiTX
O O O OOP
FO0THGHT5
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? THE TIME.
It is early morn of the Spring of the year of 57 B. C.
As the curtain ascends, the faint glimmer of the morning
star is seen on the horizon.
DISCOVERED.
Catullus is discovered reclining upon a couch placed
in center stage; back of him is the peristyle, and beyond
the blue vraters of the Benacus. In the distance may be
seen the snow-capped peaks of the Alps. Catullus is a
handsome man six feet or more in height, but his gray
hair and wejry eyes denote one given to dissipation.
About hkn seated upon the floor in graceful attitudes,
are four yo\jng maids, his slaves, Phaedria, Thessaia,
Quintia and Celia; they have their lutes and lyres, and
wear chaplets of laurel and roses upon their heads. As
the curtain ascends, they sing to Catullus and accompany
themselves upcw their lutes.
PRELUDE.
By tm orchestra precedes curtain.
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? "THE PLEA OF LOVE. "
The Lyrics.
No. I. Prelude preceeding curtain by Orchestra.
2. "Now spring renews her gentle charms" -- Catul-
lus. Translation o? W. Peter, sung by Chorus of
Maidens.
3. "No nymph among the much loved few" -- Catul-
lus. Translation of Hon. G. Lamb. Solo by Quin-
tia.
4. Chorus of Husbandmen (off scene) -- O. R. Lamb.
5. "Sweet Sirmio, Sweet Sirmio. " -- Catullus. Trans-
lation of Thomas Moore, solo by Minstral.
6. "Mourn all ye Loves and Graces Mourn -- Catul-
lus. Translation of Hon, G. Lamb, solo by Min-
stral.
7. Hermia's plea to Catullus adapted from -- Agathias.
Translation of J. H. Mirivale, solo by Hermia.
8. Hymn to Love, Duo Hermia and Julian -- O. R.
Lamb.
9. The Plea of Love, Duo Hermia anl Julian -- O. R.
Lamb.
10. The Rondelay of the Graces, Trd -- O. R. Lamb.
11. "The Spring hath come," adaptei from the Greek
-- O. R. Lamb.
12. The Epithalamium -- Catullus. -- Translation of Sir
C. A. Elton, sung by full Cho'us.
13. The Wedding March, by Orchestra.
14. The Chorus of Husbandnvn (off scene) -- O. R.
Lamb.
15. Concluding Chorus, The ''lea of Love (off scene)
--- O. R. Lamb,
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? SCENE I.
MUSICAL No. 2.
"SPRING SONG. "
Sung by the Chorus of Maidens, at the conclusion of
the Prelude -- as the curtain ascends.
I.
Now Spring renews her gentle charms,
And lulled in zephyr's balmy arms.
Soft grows the angry sk3r;
Haste then, and leaving Phrygia's plains.
Essaying Nicae's rich domains,
To Asia's Cities fly.
II.
My soul all trembling, pants to stay.
My bounding feet the call obey;
Friends of my youth farewell.
Loved friends, with whom I left my home,
Now doomed through various ways to roam,
In different lands to dwell.
IIL
The Spring renews her gentle charms,
And lulled in zephyr's balmy arms.
Soft grows the angry sky.
My soul all trembling pants to stray.
My bounding feet the call obey.
To Asia's cities fly.
CATULLUS.
(Distractedly. ) The measure is too sad, sweet maids,
essay a merrier air Sing ye of love.
QUINTIA.
My lord, you die of love already; why add unto your
sorrow?
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? CATULLUS.
Pass me a cup of wine, good Quintia. The fleeting
memories of happy days instil not only grief, but mix
there with a discontent that rends my heart in twain. Oh,
had my Lesbia lived, how happy would our lot have been;
but now, alas; (He drinks the wine).
QUINTIA.
My lord, I beg thee let these memories pass. For nights
thou hast not closed thine eyes, and sleep evades thee,
as the Echo mocks us when we sing.
CATULLUS.
Could I but conquer this hell of discontent -- this fire
of love that now consumes my heart, then might I rest
in peace. Another cup of wine, good Quintia.
QUINTIA.
Nay, my lord, refrain I prithee; the wine but makes
thy humor worse. -- Good master, v/e thy hand-maids love
thee much and faithfully our vigil keep, but now the
night is gone and weariness o'ertakes us quite. Repose
thine head, and I will bathe thy brow with this perfume.
CATULLUS.
What is the hour, Quintia?
QUINTIA.
The moon hath set. The Pleiadese fade in the distant
sky, and Phospor now the early dawn proclaims.
CATULLUS.
How long the night! (looking at the heavens) Brave
Orion in his glory wanes, the day will soon be breaking!
Essay, another measure, child) -- sing thou of love, my love,
my Lesbia.
QUINTIA.
I will, my lord.
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? CATULLUS.
And then as she was wont to do, bathe thou my brow
with sweet perfume. Perchance the gods may hear thy
plea and send sweet sleep to solace me.
No. 3.
QUINTIA SINGS OF LESBIA.
No nymphs among the much loved few,
Is loved as thou art loved by me;
No love was e'er so fond, so true,
As my fond love, sweet maid, for thee.
IL
Yes, e'en thy faults, bewitching dear!
With such delights my soul possess;
That whether faithless, or sincere,
I cannot love thee more, nor less!
III.
No nymph, among the much loved few,
Is loved as thou art loved by me;
No love was e're so kind, so true.
As my fond love, sweet maid for thee.
CATULLUS.
(Half dreaming, half awake). How sweet, how sweet.
Oft have I sung that song.
My child sing it again I pray,
And with thy strain, allay my pain,
And drive m. y cares away.
r Quintia repeats the song, and as she concludes ")
j Catullus falls into a gentle sleep. As he sleeps the I
j Minstrals cease their song and there is heard the j
l^ Husbandmen singing in the distance. j
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? No. 4.
CHORUS OF HUSBANDMEN, ETC.
(Off Scene. )
PART I.
Tenors and Basses.
The night is gone, the day is come,
Ho sluggards be awaking,
Come join our throng, with festal song,
For lo! the dawn is breaking.
Ho to the fields, whose treasure yields,
Your food and lowly portion.
Then let's away, before the day,
And seek the laborer's fortune.
PART II.
Sopranos and Altos.
Faithful little mothers.
Patient little wives.
We seek our toil, amid the soil,
The honey and the hives.
Our task is just beginning,
And as we join the throng.
We greet the day with rondelay.
And sing our merry song.
PART III.
Ho, ho, away we go,
Hither away, thither away,
So, so, merrily go
Singing our rondelay.
PART IV.
Tenors and Basses.
Then plant the seed, and kill the weed,
For Nature's most compelling.
She'll bring the rain, and ripe the grain.
With the harvest rich excelling.
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? Then to your toil, ye sons of soil,
And happy be your portion,
For v/e're away, before the day,
To seek the laborer's fortune.
PART V.
Sopranos, Tenors, Altos, Basses.
Ho, ho, away we go.
Hither away, thither away.
So, so, merrily go,
Singing our rondelay.
( At the conclusion of the chorus of husbandmen
Catullus awakes. The dawn is breaking, the stars
grow dim, the sun at last breaks through the mist
and shines upon the lake; the birds add their chorus
of joy, and where before all was dark and dreary,
the scene becomes joyful and resplendent. The min-
strals now arouse themselves, arise and pass be-
hind the couch of Catullus, who entranced at the
beauty of the scene and refreshed by the few mo-
ments of repose, arises and stands spell bound, ad-
miring the scene. The beautiful music which has
accompanied this scenic display now ceases momen-
, tarily and Catullus speaks.
CATULLUS.
How fair the morn, how joyfully the birds their mad-
rigals proclaim! How sweet the perfume of the thyme,
as on the balmy air its odor, gently wafts to me. How
fair! How fair! All nature seems to smile, and I at last
in sweet content her beauties may survey.
QUINTIA.
My lord, thy sleep hath much refreshed thee. Then wilt
thou not from out thy store of happiness repay thy faith-
ful slaves, v/ho through the weary night have watched
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? o'er thee and given solace in thy discontent. A boon we
beg of thee, a boon my lord.
ALL.
Aye! aye! a boon.
CATULLUS.
What would ye that I grant?
QUINTIA.
I tremble least I ask, that which in truth may vex thee
sore.
CATULLUS.
Am I not rich and generous? Come, speak my child.
QUINTIA.
Aye, rich thou art, yet art thou poorer than the meanest
slave.
CATULLUS.
Speak not in riddles thus, how am I poorer than the
meanest slave?
QUINTIA.
Once thou wert loved, now thou art sad and lonely. Thy
Lesbia dead, thou seekest in the cup to drown thy grief.
Beware the wine though it be red for they who seek
their solace in the grape to Circe's spell succumb.
CATULLUS.
(Seriously. ) Thou speakest truth my child, -- yet grief
and discontent rend me in twain and if I drown my sor-
row thus, it is because my love is great. They know not
grief who in their souls have not a great capacity for love
-- (pause). And yet thou speakest truth, for Circe's spell
is death.
QUINTIA.
Then forswear the cup my lord, and grant thy gentle
hand-maid's boon.
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? ALL.
Aye, good master, forswear, forswear.
CATULLUS.
Now by the Kingdom of the Powers above, by Jove and
all the gods on high, I swear that I shall mend my evil
ways, and be the man that ye would have me be.
QUINTIA.
O, good my lord.
CATULLUS.
And though I ne'er may Lesbia's equal
View, nor hope for love such as she
Gave me from her bounteous store.
Yet by Minerva and the gods I swear,
To be the friend of lovers evermore.
For love alone this wondrous world doeth move
And life is death, without the touch of love.
But with the coming of its gentle sway.
Our sorrows vanish, darkness turns to day;
Then to all lovers shall I freely give
My wealth, my aid, that they may love and live.
QUINTIA.
O, good, O, gentle master, now dost thou fill our hearts
with joy and make us glad indeed. Behold thy hand-maids
kneeling at thy feet in silence do bespeak their gratitude.
CATULLUS.
Such fealty as this would touch a heart less tender than
mine own, and I were most unworthy of it, if e'er my oath
I should disclaim. Arise my children and let your weary
eyes seek some repose. And then before the fleeting day
is gone, come hither all, and vent your joy in song.
Exeunt Quintia, Thessala, Celia, Phaedria, via cham-
ber (right).
^'' Curtain
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? SCENE II.
Enter Davus (a youth).
DAVUS.
My lord, a messenger from the Province of Bithynia
awaits without.
CATULLUS.
What manner of man is he?
DAVUS.
An old man gray with years, yet rugged and of gentle
countenance.
CATULLUS.
'Tis Philto -- bring him hither at once.
, Enter Philto and Davus. >
\ Philto is an aged man. He bears a jar of wine which f
J he lays upon the ground, this done, he bows to C
\ Catullus. )
CATULLUS.
Welcome good Philto, give me thine hand, and say that
Caius Memmius my friend is well.
PHILTO.
He is my lord and hither comes upon his way to Rome,
where some affairs of state do take his care. This wine
he sends and bids ye all be merry.
CATULLUS.
Thanks good Philto, how fares his son. He was a hand-
some boy when last I saw him.
PHILTO.
Young Julian hath my master sent to Rome with news
of much import from Caesar.
CATULLUS.
I v/ould the boy were here for I do love him much.
Order the feast prepared good Davus, for Memmius hath
a retinue that will affray our cook more than a Roman
Legion. Go thou good Philto and essay our wine.
Exeunt Philto and Davus left.
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? SCENE III.
Enter Myrson (a youth).
MYRSON.
A messenger from Rome awaits without my lord. He
says he is the slave of thine old friend, Lucretius.
CATULLUS.
'Tis well, then bid him enter.
(Enter Myrson and Gripus. )
CATULLUS.
Welcome, good Gripus. How flourishes the Capitol
since I have hid me in this sweet retreat.
GRIPUS.
All goes well, my lord since Caesar steers the ship of
state, but in the household of my master, events run not
so smoothly in their course.
CATULLUS.
What's gone amiss, speak boy, speak.
GRIPUS.
Thou knowest well, O, Catullus, how happily is my mas-
ter v/ed, how rich he hath become, and how his only
daughter Hermia, now sixteen summers past, is sought in
marriage by the young gallants of Rome.
CATULLUS.
All this I know nor could I wish for fortune less, v/ere
I a maid.
GRIPUS.
Not so, my lord, Hermia will favor none save v/ith dis-
dain. Her mother pleads that she is much too young to
wed, and sighs and tears now rend our home where once
such happiness prevailed.
CATULLUS.
Hath Hermia no lover?
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? GRIPUS.
I know of none -- i' faith -- she vows that she will never
wed, no matter whom the man may be.
CATULLUS.
A sure proof of her inconstancy -- What says Lucretius
to this?
GRIPUS.
He's sore perplexed, my lord, and comes to seek thy
counsel.
CATULLUS.
Comes Hermia and her lady mother with Lucretius?
GRIPUS.
Aye my lord -- ^they journey leisurely from Rome and
e're the day is gone will seek the shelter of thy roof.
CATULLUS.
Now hast thou brought me news indeed. Take this,
good Gripus, and bid them welcome to fair Sirmio. (He
hands Gripus a ring) and thou, Myrson, prepare the best
within the palace for my friends.
Exeunt Myrson and Gripus right.
CATULLUS.
Ho, minstral, hither, accord thy lyre and sing a joyful
lay. Sing thou of Sirmio, for fortune smiles on me today.
