No More Learning

XIII.

Cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
Paucis, si tibi di favent, diebus,
Si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
Cenam, non sine candida puella
Et vino et sale et omnibus cachinnis. 5
Haec si, inquam, attuleris, venuste noster,
Cenabis bene: nam tui Catulli
Plenus sacculus est aranearum.
Sed contra accipies meros amores
Seu quid suavius elegantiusvest: 10
Nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae
Donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque,
Quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis,
Totum ut te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

XIII.

FABULLUS IS INVITED TO A POET'S SUPPER.

Thou'lt sup right well with me, Fabullus mine,
In days few-numbered an the Gods design,
An great and goodly meal thou bring wi' thee
Nowise forgetting damsel bright o' blee,
With wine, and salty wit and laughs all-gay. 5
An these my bonny man, thou bring, I say
Thou'lt sup right well, for thy Catullus' purse
Save web of spider nothing does imburse.
But thou in countergift mere loves shalt take
Or aught of sweeter taste or fairer make: 10
I'll give thee unguent lent my girl to scent
By every Venus and all Cupids sent,
Which, as thou savour, pray Gods interpose
And thee, Fabullus, make a Naught-but-nose.

Thou shalt feast well with me, my Fabullus, in a few days, if the gods
favour thee, provided thou dost bear hither with thee a good and great
feast, not forgetting a fair damsel and wine and wit and all kinds of
laughter. Provided, I say, thou dost bear hither these, our charming one,
thou wilt feast well: for thy Catullus' purse is brimful of cobwebs. But in
return thou may'st receive a perfect love, or whatever is sweeter or more
elegant: for I will give thee an unguent which the Loves and Cupids gave
unto my girl, which when thou dost smell it, thou wilt entreat the gods to
make thee, O Fabullus, one total Nose!

XIIII.

Ni te plus oculis meis amarem,
Iocundissime Calve, munere isto
Odissem te odio Vatiniano:
Nam quid feci ego quidve sum locutus,
Cur me tot male perderes poetis? 5
Isti di mala multa dent clienti,
Qui tantum tibi misit inpiorum.
Quod si, ut suspicor, hoc novum ac repertum
Munus dat tibi Sulla litterator,
Non est mi male, sed bene ac beate, 10
Quod non dispereunt tui labores.
Di magni, horribilem et sacrum libellum
Quem tu scilicet ad tuum Catullum
Misti, continuo ut die periret,
Saturnalibus, optimo dierum! 15
Non non hoc tibi, salse, sic abibit:
Nam, si luxerit, ad librariorum
Curram scrinia, Caesios, Aquinos,
Suffenum, omnia colligam venena,
Ac te his suppliciis remunerabor. 20
Vos hinc interea (valete) abite
Illuc, unde malum pedem attulistis,
Saecli incommoda, pessimi poetae.

XIIIIb.

Siqui forte mearum ineptiarum
Lectores eritis manusque vestras 25
Non horrebitis admovere nobis,
* * * *

XIIII.

TO CALVUS, ACKNOWLEDGING HIS POEMS.

Did I not liefer love thee than my eyes
(Winsomest Calvus! ), for that gift of thine
Certes I'd hate thee with Vatinian hate.
Say me, how came I, or by word or deed,
To cause thee plague me with so many a bard? 5
The Gods deal many an ill to such a client,
Who sent of impious wights to thee such crowd.
But if (as guess I) this choice boon new-found
To thee from "Commentator" Sulla come,
None ill I hold it--well and welcome 'tis, 10
For that thy labours ne'er to death be doom'd.
Great Gods! What horrid booklet damnable
Unto thine own Catullus thou (perdie! )
Did send, that ever day by day die he
In Saturnalia, first of festivals. 15
No! No! thus shall't not pass wi' thee, sweet wag,
For I at dawning day will scour the booths
Of bibliopoles, Aquinii, Caesii and
Suffenus, gather all their poison-trash
And with such torments pay thee for thy pains. 20
Now for the present hence, adieu! begone
Thither, whence came ye, brought by luckless feet,
Pests of the Century, ye pernicious Poets.

XIIIIb.

An of my trifles peradventure chance
You to be readers, and the hands of you 25
Without a shudder unto us be offer'd
* * * *

Did I not love thee more than mine eyes, O most jocund Calvus, for thy gift
I should abhor thee with Vatinian abhorrence. For what have I done or what
have I said that thou shouldst torment me so vilely with these poets? May
the gods give that client of thine ills enow, who sent thee so much trash!
Yet if, as I suspect, this new and care-picked gift, Sulla, the
litterateur, gives thee, it is not ill to me, but well and beatific, that
thy labours [in his cause] are not made light of. Great gods, what a
horrible and accurst book which, forsooth, thou hast sent to thy Catullus
that he might die of boredom the livelong day in the Saturnalia, choicest
of days! No, no, my joker, this shall not leave thee so: for at daydawn I
will haste to the booksellers' cases; the Caesii, the Aquini, Suffenus,
every poisonous rubbish will I collect that I may repay thee with these
tortures. Meantime (farewell ye) hence depart ye from here, whither an ill
foot brought ye, pests of the period, puniest of poetasters.

If by chance ye ever be readers of my triflings and ye will not quake to
lay your hands upon us,

* * * *

XV.

Commendo tibi me ac meos amores,
Aureli. veniam peto pudentem,
Vt, si quicquam animo tuo cupisti,
Quod castum expeteres et integellum,
Conserves puerum mihi pudice, 5
Non dico a populo: nihil veremur
Istos, qui in platea modo huc modo illuc
In re praetereunt sua occupati:
Verum a te metuo tuoque pene
Infesto pueris bonis malisque. 10
Quem tu qua lubet, ut iubet, moveto,
Quantum vis, ubi erit foris, paratum:
Hunc unum excipio, ut puto, pudenter.
Quod si te mala mens furorque vecors
In tantam inpulerit, sceleste, culpam, 15
Vt nostrum insidiis caput lacessas,
A tum te miserum malique fati,
Quem attractis pedibus patente porta
Percurrent raphanique mugilesque.

XV.

TO AURELIUS--HANDS OFF THE BOY!

To thee I trust my loves and me,
(Aurelius! ) craving modesty.
That (if in mind didst ever long
To win aught chaste unknowing wrong)
Then guard my boy in purest way. 5
From folk I say not: naught affray
The crowds wont here and there to run
Through street-squares, busied every one;
But thee I dread nor less thy penis
Fair or foul, younglings' foe I ween is! 10
Wag it as wish thou, at its will,
When out of doors its hope fulfil;
Him bar I, modestly, methinks.
But should ill-mind or lust's high jinks
Thee (Sinner! ), drive to sin so dread, 15
That durst ensnare our dearling's head,
Ah! woe's thee (wretch! ) and evil fate,
Mullet and radish shall pierce and grate,
When feet-bound, haled through yawning gate.

I commend me to thee with my charmer, Aurelius. I come for modest boon
that,--didst thine heart long for aught, which thou desiredst chaste and
untouched,--thou 'lt preserve for me the chastity of my boy. I do not say
from the public: I fear those naught who hurry along the thoroughfares
hither thither occupied on their own business: truth my fear is from thee
and thy penis, pestilent eke to fair and to foul. Set it in motion where
thou dost please, whenever thou biddest, as much as thou wishest, wherever
thou findest the opportunity out of doors: this one object I except, to my
thought a reasonable boon. But if thy evil mind and senseless rutting push
thee forward, scoundrel, to so great a crime as to assail our head with thy
snares, O wretch, calamitous mishap shall happen thee, when with feet taut
bound, through the open entrance radishes and mullets shall pierce.

XVI.

Pedicabo ego vos et inrumabo,
Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi,
Qui me ex versiculis meis putastis,
Quod sunt molliculi, parum pudicum.
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam 5
Ipsum, versiculos nihil necessest,
Qui tum denique habent salem ac leporem,
Si sunt molliculi ac parum pudici
Et quod pruriat incitare possunt,
Non dico pueris, sed his pilosis, 10
Qui duros nequeunt movere lumbos.
Vos, quom milia multa basiorum
Legistis, male me marem putatis?
Pedicabo ego vos et inrumabo.

XVI.

TO AURELIUS AND FURIUS IN DEFENCE OF HIS MUSE'S HONESTY.

I'll ---- you twain and ----
Pathic Aurelius! Furius, libertines!
Who durst determine from my versicles
Which seem o'er softy, that I'm scant of shame.
For pious poet it behoves be chaste 5
Himself; no chastity his verses need;
Nay, gain they finally more salt of wit
When over softy and of scanty shame,
Apt for exciting somewhat prurient,
In boys, I say not, but in bearded men 10
Who fail of movements in their hardened loins.
Ye who so many thousand kisses sung
Have read, deny male masculant I be?
You twain I'll ---- and ----

I will paedicate and irrumate you, Aurelius the bardache and Furius the
cinaede, who judge me from my verses rich in love-liesse, to be their equal
in modesty. For it behoves your devout poet to be chaste himself; his
verses--not of necessity. Which verses, in a word, may have a spice and
volupty, may have passion's cling and such like decency, so that they can
incite with ticklings, I do not say boys, but bearded ones whose stiffened
limbs amort lack pliancy in movement. You, because of many thousand kisses
you have read, think me womanish. I will paedicate and irrumate you!

XVII.

O Colonia, quae cupis ponte ludere longo,
Et salire paratum habes, sed vereris inepta
Crura ponticuli assulis stantis in redivivis,
Ne supinus eat cavaque in palude recumbat;
Sic tibi bonus ex tua pons libidine fiat, 5
In quo vel Salisubsili sacra suscipiantur:
Munus hoc mihi maximi da, Colonia, risus.
Quendam municipem meum de tuo volo ponte
Ire praecipitem in lutum per caputque pedesque,
Verum totius ut lacus putidaeque paludis 10
Lividissima maximeque est profunda vorago.
Insulsissimus est homo, nec sapit pueri instar
Bimuli tremula patris dormientis in ulna.
Quoi cum sit viridissimo nupta flore puella
(Et puella tenellulo delicatior haedo, 15
Adservanda nigerrimis diligentius uvis),
Ludere hanc sinit ut lubet, nec pili facit uni,
Nec se sublevat ex sua parte, sed velut alnus
In fossa Liguri iacet suppernata securi,
Tantundem omnia sentiens quam si nulla sit usquam, 20
Talis iste meus stupor nil videt, nihil audit,
Ipse qui sit, utrum sit an non sit, id quoque nescit.
Nunc eum volo de tuo ponte mittere pronum,
Si pote stolidum repente excitare veternum
Et supinum animum in gravi derelinquere caeno, 25
Ferream ut soleam tenaci in voragine mula.

XVII.

OF A "PREDESTINED" HUSBAND.

Colony! fain to display thy games on length of thy town-bridge!
There, too, ready to dance, though fearing the shaking of crazy
Logs of the Bridgelet propt on pier-piles newly renewed,
Lest supine all sink deep-merged in the marish's hollow,
So may the bridge hold good when builded after thy pleasure 5
Where Salisubulus' rites with solemn function are sacred,
As thou (Colony! ) grant me boon of mightiest laughter.
Certain a townsman mine I'd lief see thrown from thy gangway
Hurled head over heels precipitous whelmed in the quagmire,
Where the lake and the boglands are most rotten and stinking, 10
Deepest and lividest lie, the swallow of hollow voracious.
Witless surely the wight whose sense is less than of boy-babe
Two-year-old and a-sleep on trembling forearm of father.
He though wedded to girl in greenest bloom of her youth-tide,
(Bride-wife daintier bred than ever was delicate kidlet, 15
Worthier diligent watch than grape-bunch blackest and ripest)
Suffers her sport as she please nor rates her even at hair's worth,
Nowise 'stirring himself, but lying log-like as alder
Felled and o'er floating the fosse of safe Ligurian woodsman,
Feeling withal, as though such spouse he never had own'd; 20
So this marvel o' mine sees naught, and nothing can hear he,
What he himself, an he be or not be, wholly unknowing.
Now would I willingly pitch such wight head first fro' thy bridge,
Better a-sudden t'arouse that numskull's stolid old senses,
Or in the sluggish mud his soul supine to deposit 25
Even as she-mule casts iron shoe where quagmire is stiffest.

O Colonia, that longest to disport thyself on a long bridge and art
prepared for the dance, but that fearest the trembling legs of the
bridgelet builded on re-used shavings, lest supine it may lie stretched in
the hollow swamp; may a good bridge take its place designed to thy fancy,
on which e'en the Salian dances may be sustained: for the which grant to
me, Colonia, greatest of gifts glee-exciting. Such an one, townsman of
mine, I want from thy bridge to be pitched in the sludge head over heels,
right where the lake of all its stinking slime is dankest and most
superfluent--a deep-sunk abyss. The man is a gaping gaby! lacking the sense
of a two-years-old baby dozing on its father's cradling arm. Although to
him is wedded a girl flushed with springtide's bloom (and a girl more
dainty than a tender kid, meet to be watched with keener diligence than the
lush-black grape-bunch), he leaves her to sport at her list, cares not a
single hair, nor bestirs himself with marital office, but lies as an alder
felled by Ligurian hatchet in a ditch, as sentient of everything as though
no woman were at his side. Such is my booby! he sees not, he hears naught.
Who himself is, or whether he be or be not, he also knows not. Now I wish
to chuck him head first from thy bridge, so as to suddenly rouse (if
possible) this droning dullard and to leave behind in the sticky slush his
sluggish spirit, as a mule casts its iron shoe in the tenacious slough.

XVIII.

Hunc lucum tibi dedico, consecroque, Priape,
Qua domus tua Lampsaci est, quaque silva, Priape,
Nam te praecipue in suis urbibus colit ora
Hellespontia, caeteris ostreosior oris.

XVIII.

TO PRIAPUS, THE GARDEN-GOD.

This grove to thee devote I give, Priapus!
Who home be Lampsacus and holt, Priapus!
For thee in cities worship most the shores
Of Hellespont the richest oystery strand.

This grove I dedicate and consecrate to thee, Priapus, who hast thy home at
Lampsacus, and eke thy woodlands, Priapus; for thee especially in its
cities worships the coast of the Hellespont, richer in oysters than all
other shores.

XVIIII.

Hunc ego, juvenes, locum, villulamque palustrem,
Tectam vimine junceo, caricisque maniplis,
Quercus arida, rustica conformata securi,
Nunc tuor: magis, et magis ut beata quotannis.
Hujus nam Domini colunt me, Deumque salutant, 5
Pauperis tugurii pater, filiusque coloni:
Alter, assidua colens diligentia, ut herba
Dumosa, asperaque a meo sit remota sacello:
Alter, parva ferens manu semper munera larga.
Florido mihi ponitur picta vere corolla 10
Primitu', et tenera virens spica mollis arista:
Luteae violae mihi, luteumque papaver,
Pallentesque cucurbitae, et suaveolentia mala,
Vva pampinea rubens educata sub umbra.
Sanguine hanc etiam mihi (sed tacebitis) aram 15
Barbatus linit hirculus, cornipesque capella:
Pro queis omnia honoribus haec necesse Priapo
Praestare, et domini hortulum, vineamque tueri.
Quare hinc, o pueri, malas abstinete rapinas.
Vicinus prope dives est, negligensque Priapus. 20
Inde sumite: semita haec deinde vos feret ipsa.

XVIIII.

TO PRIAPUS.

This place, O youths, I protect, nor less this turf-builded cottage,
Roofed with its osier-twigs and thatched with its bundles of sedges;
I from the dried oak hewn and fashioned with rustical hatchet,
Guarding them year by year while more are they evermore thriving.
For here be owners twain who greet and worship my Godship, 5
He of the poor hut lord and his son, the pair of them peasants:
This with assiduous toil aye works the thicketty herbage
And the coarse water-grass to clear afar from my chapel:
That with his open hand ever brings me offerings humble.
Hung up in honour mine are flowery firstlings of spring-tide, 10
Wreaths with their ears still soft the tender stalklets a-crowning;
Violets pale are mine by side of the poppy-head pallid;
With the dull yellow gourd and apples sweetest of savour;
Lastly the blushing grape disposed in shade of the vine-tree.
Anon mine altar (this same) with blood (but you will be silent! ) 15
Bearded kid and anon some horny-hoofed nanny shall sprinkle.
Wherefore Priapus is bound to requite such honours by service,
Doing his duty to guard both vineyard and garth of his lordling.
Here then, O lads, refrain from ill-mannered picking and stealing:
Rich be the neighbour-hind and negligent eke his Priapus: 20
Take what be his: this path hence leadeth straight to his ownings.

This place, youths, and the marshland cot thatched with rushes, osier-twigs
and bundles of sedge, I, carved from a dry oak by a rustic axe, now
protect, so that they thrive more and more every year. For its owners, the
father of the poor hut and his son,--both husbandmen,--revere me and salute
me as a god; the one labouring with assiduous diligence that the harsh
weeds and brambles may be kept away from my sanctuary, the other often
bringing me small offerings with open hand. On me is placed a many-tinted
wreath of early spring flowers and the soft green blade and ear of the
tender corn. Saffron-coloured violets, the orange-hued poppy, wan gourds,
sweet-scented apples, and the purpling grape trained in the shade of the
vine, [are offered] to me. Sometimes, (but keep silent as to this) even the
bearded he-goat, and the horny-footed nanny sprinkle my altar with blood;
for which honours Priapus is bound in return to do everything [which lies
in his duty], and to keep strict guard over the little garden and vineyard
of his master. Wherefore, abstain, O lads, from your evil pilfering here.
Our next neighbour is rich and his Priapus is negligent. Take from him;
this path then will lead you to his grounds.

XX.

Ego haec ego arte fabricata rustica,
Ego arida, o viator, ecce populus
Agellulum hunc, sinistra, tute quem vides,
Herique villulam, hortulumque pauperis
Tuor, malasque furis arceo manus. 5
Mihi corolla picta vero ponitur:
Mihi rubens arista sole fervido:
Mihi virente dulcis uva pampino:
Mihique glauca duro oliva frigore.
Meis capella delicata pascuis 10
In urbem adulta lacte portat ubera:
Meisque pinguis agnus ex ovilibus
Gravem domum remittit aere dexteram:
Tenerque, matre mugiente, vaccula
Deum profundit ante templa sanguinem. 15
Proin', viator, hunc Deum vereberis,
Manumque sorsum habebis hoc tibi expedit.
Parata namque crux, sine arte mentula.
Velim pol, inquis: at pol ecce, villicus
Venit: valente cui revulsa brachio 20
Fit ista mentula apta clava dexterae.

XX.

TO PRIAPUS.

I thuswise fashioned by rustic art
And from dried poplar-trunk (O traveller! ) hewn,
This fieldlet, leftwards as thy glances fall,
And my lord's cottage with his pauper garth
Protect, repelling thieves' rapacious hands. 5
In spring with vari-coloured wreaths I'm crown'd,
In fervid summer with the glowing grain,
Then with green vine-shoot and the luscious bunch,
And glaucous olive-tree in bitter cold.
The dainty she-goat from my pasture bears 10
Her milk-distended udders to the town:
Out of my sheep-cotes ta'en the fatted lamb
Sends home with silver right-hand heavily charged;
And, while its mother lows, the tender calf
Before the temples of the Gods must bleed. 15
Hence of such Godhead, (traveller! ) stand in awe,
Best it befits thee off to keep thy hands.
Thy cross is ready, shaped as artless yard;
"I'm willing, 'faith" (thou say'st) but 'faith here comes
The boor, and plucking forth with bended arm 20
Makes of this tool a club for doughty hand.

I, O traveller, shaped with rustic art from a dry poplar, guard this little
field which thou seest on the left, and the cottage and small garden of its
indigent owner, and keep off the greedy hands of the robber. In spring a
many-tinted wreath is placed upon me; in summer's heat ruddy grain; [in
autumn] a luscious grape cluster with vine-shoots, and in the bitter cold
the pale-green olive. The tender she-goat bears from my pasture to the town
milk-distended udders; the well-fattened lamb from my sheepfolds sends back
[its owner] with a heavy handful of money; and the tender calf, 'midst its
mother's lowings, sheds its blood before the temple of the Gods. Hence,
wayfarer, thou shalt be in awe of this God, and it will be profitable to
thee to keep thy hands off. For a punishment is prepared--a roughly-shaped
mentule. "Truly, I am willing," thou sayest; then, truly, behold the farmer
comes, and that same mentule plucked from my groin will become an apt
cudgel in his strong right hand.

XXI.

Aureli, pater essuritionum,
Non harum modo, sed quot aut fuerunt
Aut sunt aut aliis erunt in annis,
Pedicare cupis meos amores.
Nec clam: nam simul es, iocaris una, 5
Haeres ad latus omnia experiris.
Frustra: nam insidias mihi instruentem
Tangem te prior inrumatione.
Atque id si faceres satur, tacerem:
Nunc ipsum id doleo, quod essurire, 10
A me me, puer et sitire discet.
Quare desine, dum licet pudico,
Ne finem facias, sed inrumatus.

XXI.

TO AURELIUS THE SKINFLINT.

Aurelius, father of the famisht crew,
Not sole of starvelings now, but wretches who
Were, are, or shall be in the years to come,
My love, my dearling, fain art thou to strum.
Nor privately; for nigh thou com'st and jestest 5
And to his side close-sticking all things questest.
'Tis vain: while lay'st thou snares for me the worst,
By ---- I will teach thee first.
An food-full thus do thou, my peace I'd keep:
But what (ah me! ah me! ) compels me weep 10
Are thirst and famine to my dearling fated.
Cease thou so doing while as modest rated,
Lest to thy will thou win--but ----

Aurelius, father of the famished, in ages past in time now present and in
future years yet to come, thou art longing to paedicate my love. Nor is't
done secretly: for thou art with him jesting, closely sticking at his side,
trying every means. In vain: for, instructed in thy artifice, I'll strike
home beforehand by irrumating thee. Now if thou didst this to work off the
results of full-living I would say naught: but what irks me is that my boy
must learn to starve and thirst with thee. Wherefore, desist, whilst thou
mayst with modesty, lest thou reach the end,--but by being irrumated.

XXII.

Suffenus iste, Vare, quem probe nosti,
Homost venustus et dicax et urbanus,
Idemque longe plurimos facit versus.
Puto esse ego illi milia aut decem aut plura
Perscripta, nec sic ut fit in palimpseston 5
Relata: chartae regiae, novei libri,
Novei umbilici, lora rubra, membrana
Derecta plumbo, et pumice omnia aequata.
Haec cum legas tu, bellus ille et urbanus
Suffenus unus caprimulgus aut fossor 10
Rursus videtur; tantum abhorret ac mutat.
Hoc quid putemus esse? qui modo scurra
Aut siquid hac re scitius videbatur,
Idem infacetost infacetior rure,
Simul poemata attigit, neque idem umquam 15
Aequest beatus ac poema cum scribit:
Tam gaudet in se tamque se ipse miratur.
Nimirum idem omnes fallimur, nequest quisquam,
Quem non in aliqua re videre Suffenum
Possis. suus cuique attributus est error: 20
Sed non videmus, manticae quod in tergost.

XXII.

TO VARUS ABUSING SUFFENUS.

Varus, yon wight Suffenus known to thee
Fairly for wit, free talk, urbanity,
The same who scribbles verse in amplest store--
Methinks he fathers thousands ten or more
Indited not as wont on palimpsest, 5
But paper-royal, brand-new boards, and best
Fresh bosses, crimson ribbands, sheets with lead
Ruled, and with pumice-powder all well polished.
These as thou readest, seem that fine, urbane
Suffenus, goat-herd mere, or ditcher-swain 10
Once more, such horrid change is there, so vile.
What must we wot thereof? a Droll erst while,
Or (if aught) cleverer, he with converse meets,
He now in dullness, dullest villain beats
Forthright on handling verse, nor is the wight 15
Ever so happy as when verse he write:
So self admires he with so full delight.
In sooth, we all thus err, nor man there be
But in some matter a Suffenus see
Thou canst: his lache allotted none shall lack 20
Yet spy we nothing of our back-borne pack.

That Suffenus, Varus, whom thou know'st right well, is a man fair spoken,
witty and urbane, and one who makes of verses lengthy store. I think he has
writ at full length ten thousand or more, nor are they set down, as of
custom, on palimpsest: regal paper, new boards, unused bosses, red ribands,
lead-ruled parchment, and all most evenly pumiced. But when thou readest
these, that refined and urbane Suffenus is seen on the contrary to be a
mere goatherd or ditcher-lout, so great and shocking is the change. What
can we think of this? he who just now was seen a professed droll, or e'en
shrewder than such in gay speech, this same becomes more boorish than a
country boor immediately he touches poesy, nor is the dolt e'er as
self-content as when he writes in verse,--so greatly is he pleased with
himself, so much does he himself admire.
Natheless, we all thus go astray,
nor is there any man in whom thou canst not see a Suffenus in some one
point. Each of us has his assigned delusion: but we see not what's in the
wallet on our back.

XXIII.

Furei, quoi neque servos est neque arca
Nec cimex neque araneus neque ignis,
Verumst et pater et noverca, quorum
Dentes vel silicem comesse possunt,
Est pulchre tibi cum tuo parente 5
Et cum coniuge lignea parentis.
Nec mirum: bene nam valetis omnes,
Pulchre concoquitis, nihil timetis,
Non incendia, non graves ruinas,
Non furta inpia, non dolos veneni, 10
Non casus alios periculorum.
Atqui corpora sicciora cornu
Aut siquid magis aridumst habetis
Sole et frigore et essuritione.
Quare non tibi sit bene ac beate? 15
A te sudor abest, abest saliva,
Mucusque et mala pituita nasi.
Hanc ad munditiem adde mundiorem,
Quod culus tibi purior salillost,
Nec toto decies cacas in anno, 20
Atque id durius est faba et lapillis;
Quod tu si manibus teras fricesque,
Non umquam digitum inquinare possis.
Haec tu commoda tam beata, Furi,
Noli spernere nec putare parvi, 25
Et sestertia quae soles precari
Centum desine: nam sat es beatus.

XXIII.

TO FURIUS SATIRICALLY PRAISING HIS POVERTY.

Furius! Nor chest, nor slaves can claim,
Bug, Spider, nor e'en hearth aflame,
Yet thine a sire and step-dame who
Wi' tooth can ever flint-food chew!
So thou, and pleasant happy life 5
Lead wi' thy parent's wooden wife.
Nor this be marvel: hale are all,
Well ye digest; no fears appal
For household-arsons, heavy ruin,
Plunderings impious, poison-brewin' 10
Or other parlous case forlorn.
Your frames are hard and dried like horn,
Or if more arid aught ye know,
By suns and frosts and hunger-throe.
Then why not happy as thou'rt hale? 15
Sweat's strange to thee, spit fails, and fail
Phlegm and foul snivel from the nose.
Add cleanness that aye cleanlier shows
A bum than salt-pot cleanlier,
Nor ten times cack'st in total year, 20
And harder 'tis than pebble or bean
Which rubbed in hand or crumbled, e'en
On finger ne'er shall make unclean.
Such blessings (Furius! ) such a prize
Never belittle nor despise; 25
Hundred sesterces seek no more
With wonted prayer--enow's thy store!

O Furius, who neither slaves, nor coffer, nor bug, nor spider, nor fire
hast, but hast both father and step-dame whose teeth can munch up even
flints,--thou livest finely with thy sire, and with thy sire's wood-carved
spouse. Nor need's amaze! for in good health are ye all, grandly ye digest,
naught fear ye, nor arson nor house-fall, thefts impious nor poison's
furtive cunning, nor aught of perilous happenings whatsoe'er. And ye have
bodies drier than horn (or than aught more arid still, if aught there be),
parched by sun, frost, and famine. Wherefore shouldst thou not be happy
with such weal. Sweat is a stranger to thee, absent also are saliva,
phlegm, and evil nose-snivel. Add to this cleanliness the thing that's
still more cleanly, that thy backside is purer than a salt-cellar, nor
cackst thou ten times in the total year, and then 'tis harder than beans
and pebbles; nay, 'tis such that if thou dost rub and crumble it in thy
hands, not a finger canst thou ever dirty. These goodly gifts and favours,
O Furius, spurn not nor think lightly of; and cease thy 'customed begging
for an hundred sesterces: for thou'rt blest enough!

XXIIII.

O qui flosculus es Iuventiorum,
Non horum modo, sed quot aut fuerunt
Aut posthac aliis erunt in annis,
Mallem divitias Midae dedisses
Isti, quoi neque servus est neque arca, 5
Quam sic te sineres ab illo amari.
'Qui? non est homo bellus? ' inquies. est:
Sed bello huic neque servos est neque arca.
Hoc tu quam lubet abice elevaque:
Nec servom tamen ille habet neque arcam. 10

XXIIII.

TO JUVENTIUS CONCERNING THE CHOICE OF A FRIEND.

O of Juventian youths the flowret fair
Not of these only, but of all that were
Or shall be, coming in the coming years,
Better waste Midas' wealth (to me appears)
On him that owns nor slave nor money-chest 5
Than thou shouldst suffer by his love possest.
"What! is he vile or not fair? " "Yes! " I attest,
"Yet owns this man so comely neither slaves nor chest
My words disdain thou or accept at best
Yet neither slave he owns nor money-chest. " 10

O thou who art the floweret of Juventian race, not only of these now
living, but of those that were of yore and eke of those that will be in the
coming years, rather would I that thou hadst given the wealth e'en of Midas
to that fellow who owns neither slave nor store, than that thou shouldst
suffer thyself to be loved by such an one. "What! isn't he a fine-looking
man? " thou askest. He is; but this fine-looking man has neither slaves nor
store. Contemn and slight this as it please thee: nevertheless, he has
neither slave nor store.

XXV.

Cinaede Thalle, mollior cuniculi capillo
Vel anseris medullula vel imula oricilla
Vel pene languido senis situque araneoso,
Idemque Thalle turbida rapacior procella,
Cum diva munerarios ostendit oscitantes, 5
Remitte pallium mihi meum, quod involasti,
Sudariumque Saetabum catagraphosque Thynos,
Inepte, quae palam soles habere tamquam avita.
Quae nunc tuis ab unguibus reglutina et remitte,
Ne laneum latusculum manusque mollicellas 10
Inusta turpiter tibi flagella conscribillent,
Et insolenter aestues velut minuta magno
Deprensa navis in mari vesaniente vento.

XXV.

ADDRESS TO THALLUS THE NAPERY-THIEF.

Thou bardache Thallus! more than Coney's robe
Soft, or goose-marrow or ear's lowmost lobe,
Or Age's languid yard and cobweb'd part,
Same Thallus greedier than the gale thou art,
When the Kite-goddess shows thee Gulls agape, 5
Return my muffler thou hast dared to rape,
Saetaban napkins, tablets of Thynos, all
Which (Fool! ) ancestral heirlooms thou didst call.
These now unglue-ing from thy claws restore,
Lest thy soft hands, and floss-like flanklets score 10
The burning scourges, basely signed and lined,
And thou unwonted toss like wee barque tyned
'Mid vasty Ocean vexed by madding wind!

O Thallus the catamite, softer than rabbit's fur, or goose's marrow, or
lowmost ear-lobe, limper than the drooping penis of an oldster, in its
cobwebbed must, greedier than the driving storm, such time as the
Kite-Goddess shews us the gaping Gulls, give me back my mantle which thou
hast pilfered, and the Saetaban napkin and Thynian tablets which, idiot,
thou dost openly parade as though they were heirlooms. These now unglue
from thy nails and return, lest the stinging scourge shall shamefully score
thy downy flanks and delicate hands, and thou unwonted heave and toss like
a tiny boat surprised on the vasty sea by a raging storm.

XXVI.

Furi, villula nostra non ad Austri
Flatus oppositast neque ad Favoni
Nec saevi Boreae aut Apeliotae,
Verum ad milia quindecim et ducentos.
O ventum horribilem atque pestilentem! 5

XXVI.

CATULLUS CONCERNING HIS VILLA.

Furius! our Villa never Austral force
Broke, neither set thereon Favonius' course,
Nor savage Boreas, nor Epeliot's strain,
But fifteen thousand crowns and hundreds twain
Wreckt it,--Oh ruinous by-wind, breezy bane! 5

Furius, our villa not 'gainst the southern breeze is pitted nor the western
wind nor cruel Boreas nor sunny east, but sesterces fifteen thousand two
hundred oppose it. O horrible and baleful draught.

XXVII.

Minister vetuli puer Falerni
Inger mi calices amariores,
Vt lex Postumiae iubet magistrae,
Ebriosa acina ebriosioris.
At vos quo lubet hinc abite, lymphae 5
Vini pernicies, et ad severos
Migrate: hic merus est Thyonianus.

XXVII.

TO HIS CUP-BOY.

Thou youngling drawer of Falernian old
Crown me the goblets with a bitterer wine
As was Postumia's law that rules the feast
Than ebriate grape-stone more inebriate.
But ye fare whither please ye (water-nymphs! ) 5
To wine pernicious, and to sober folk
Migrate ye: mere Thyonian juice be here!

Boy cupbearer of old Falernian, pour me fiercer cups as bids the laws of
Postumia, mistress of the feast, drunker than a drunken grape. But ye,
hence, as far as ye please, crystal waters, bane of wine, hie ye to the
sober: here the Thyonian juice is pure.

XXVIII.

Pisonis comites, cohors inanis
Aptis sarcinulis et expeditis,
Verani optime tuque mi Fabulle,
Quid rerum geritis? satisne cum isto
Vappa frigoraque et famem tulistis? 5
Ecquidnam in tabulis patet lucelli
Expensum, ut mihi, qui meum secutus
Praetorem refero datum lucello
'O Memmi, bene me ac diu supinum
Tota ista trabe lentus inrumasti. ' 10
Sed, quantum video, pari fuistis
Casu: nam nihilo minore verpa
Farti estis. pete nobiles amicos.
At vobis mala multa di deaeque
Dent, opprobria Romulei Remique. 15

XXVIII.

TO FRIENDS ON RETURN FROM TRAVEL.

Followers of Piso, empty band
With your light budgets packt to hand,
Veranius best! Fabullus mine!
What do ye? Bore ye enough, in fine
Of frost and famine with yon sot? 5
What loss or gain have haply got
Your tablets? so, whenas I ranged
With Praetor, gains for loss were changed.
"O Memmius! thou did'st long and late
---- me supine slow and ----" 10
But (truly see I) in such case
Diddled you were by wight as base
Sans mercy. Noble friends go claim!
Now god and goddess give you grame
Disgrace of Romulus! Remus' shame! 15

Piso's Company, a starveling band, with lightweight knapsacks, scantly
packed, most dear Veranius thou, and my Fabullus eke, how fortunes it with
you? have ye borne frost and famine enow with that sot? Which in your
tablets appear--the profits or expenses? So with me, who when I followed a
praetor, inscribed more gifts than gains. "O Memmius, well and slowly didst
thou irrumate me, supine, day by day, with the whole of that beam. " But,
from what I see, in like case ye have been; for ye have been crammed with
no smaller a poker. Courting friends of high rank! But may the gods and
goddesses heap ill upon ye, reproach to Romulus and Remus.

XXVIIII.

Quis hoc potest videre, quis potest pati,
Nisi inpudicus et vorax et aleo,
Mamurram habere quod Comata Gallia
Habebat ante et ultima Britannia?
Cinaede Romule, haec videbis et feres? 5
_Es inpudicus et vorax et aleo. _ 5b
Et ille nunc superbus et superfluens
Perambulabit omnium cubilia
Vt albulus columbus aut Adoneus?
Cinaede Romule, haec videbis et feres?
Es inpudicus et vorax et aleo. 10
Eone nomine, imperator unice,
Fuisti in ultima occidentis insula,
Vt ista vostra defututa Mentula
Ducenties comesset aut trecenties?
Quid est alid sinistra liberalitas? 15
Parum expatravit an parum eluatus est?
Paterna prima lancinata sunt bona:
Secunda praeda Pontica: inde tertia
Hibera, quam scit amnis aurifer Tagus.
Timentne Galliae hunc, timent Britanniae? 20
Quid hunc malum fovetis? aut quid hic potest,
Nisi uncta devorare patrimonia?
Eone nomine urbis, o potissimei
Socer generque, perdidistis omnia?

XXVIIII.

TO CAESAR OF MAMURRA, CALLED MENTULA.

Who e'er could witness this (who could endure
Except the lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut)
That should Mamurra get what hairy Gaul
And all that farthest Britons held whilome?
(Thou bardache Romulus! ) this wilt see and bear? 5
Then art a lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut! 5b
He now superb with pride superfluous
Shall go perambulate the bedrooms all
Like white-robed dovelet or Adonis-love.
Romulus thou bardache! this wilt see and bear?
Then art a lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut! 10
Is't for such like name, sole Emperor thou!
Thou soughtest extreme Occidental Isle?
That this your ---- Mentula
Millions and Milliards might at will absorb?
What is't but Liberality misplaced? 15
What trifles wasted he, small heirlooms spent?
First his paternal goods were clean dispersed;
Second went Pontus' spoils and for the third,--
Ebro-land,--weets it well gold-rolling Tage.
Fear him the Gallias? Him the Britons' fear? 20
Why cherish this ill-wight? what 'vails he do?
Save fat paternal heritage devour?
Lost ye for such a name, O puissant pair
(Father and Son-in-law), our all-in-all?

Who can witness this, who can brook it, save a whore-monger, a guzzler, and
a gamester, that Mamurra should possess what long-haired Gaul and remotest
Britain erstwhile had. Thou catamite Romulus, this thou'lt see and bear?
Then thou'rt a whore-monger, a guzzler, and a gamester. And shall he now,
superb and o'er replete, saunter o'er each one's bed, as though he were a
snow-plumed dove or an Adonis? Thou catamite Romulus, this thou'lt see and
hear? Then thou'rt a whore-monger, a guzzler, and a gamester. For such a
name, O general unique, hast thou been to the furthest island of the west,
that this thy futtered-out Mentula should squander hundreds of hundreds?
What is't but ill-placed munificence? What trifles has he squandered, or
what petty store washed away? First his patrimony was mangled; secondly the
Pontic spoils; then thirdly the Iberian, which the golden Tagus-stream
knoweth. Do not the Gauls fear this man, do not the Britons quake? Why dost
thou foster this scoundrel? What use is he save to devour well-fattened
inheritances? Wast for such a name, O most puissant father-in-law and
son-in-law, that ye have spoiled the entire world.

XXX.

Alfene inmemor atque unanimis false sodalibus
Iam te nil miseret, dure, tui dulcis amiculi?

Iam me prodere, iam non dubitas fallere, perfide?
Nec facta inpia fallacum hominum caelicolis placent:

Quod tu neglegis, ac me miserum deseris in malis. 5
Eheu quid faciant, dic, homines, cuive habeant fidem?

Certe tute iubebas animam tradere, inique, me
Inducens in amorem, quasi tuta omnia mi forent.

Idem nunc retrahis te ac tua dicta omnia factaque
Ventos inrita ferre ac nebulas aerias sinis. 10

Si tu oblitus es, at di meminerunt, meminit Fides,
Quae te ut paeniteat postmodo facti faciet tui.

XXX.

TO ALFENUS THE PERJUROR.

Alfenus! short of memory, false to comrades dearest-dear,
Now hast no pity (hardened Soul! ) for friend and loving fere?

Now to betray me, now to guile thou (traitor! ) ne'er dost pause?
Yet impious feats of fraudful men ne'er force the Gods' applause:

When heed'st thou not deserting me (Sad me! ) in sorest scathe, 5
Ah say whate'er shall humans do? in whom shall man show faith?

For sure thou bad'st me safely yield my spirit (wretch! ) to thee,
Lulling my love as though my life were all security.

The same now dost withdraw thyself and every word and deed
Thou suffer'st winds and airy clouds to sweep from out thy head. 10

But an forget thou, mindful be the Gods, and Faith in mind
Bears thee, and soon shall gar thee rue the deeds by thee design'd.

Alfenus, unmemoried and unfaithful to thy comrades true, is there now no
pity in thee, O hard of heart, for thine sweet loving friend? Dost thou
betray me now, and scruplest not to play me false now, dishonourable one?
Yet the irreverent deeds of traitorous men please not the dwellers in
heaven: this thou takest no heed of, leaving me wretched amongst my ills.
Alas, what may men do, I pray you, in whom put trust? In truth thou didst
bid me entrust my soul to thee, sans love returned, lulling me to love, as
though all [love-returns] were safely mine. Yet now thou dost withdraw
thyself, and all thy purposeless words and deeds thou sufferest to be
wafted away into winds and nebulous clouds. If thou hast forgotten, yet the
gods remember, and in time to come will make thee rue thy doing.

XXXI.

Paeninsularum, Sirmio, insularumque
Ocelle, quascumque in liquentibus stagnis
Marique vasto fert uterque Neptunus,
Quam te libenter quamque laetus inviso,
Vix mi ipse credens Thyniam atque Bithynos 5
Liquisse campos et videre te in tuto.
O quid solutis est beatius curis,
Cum mens onus reponit, ac peregrino
Labore fessi venimus larem ad nostrum
Desideratoque acquiescimus lecto. 10
Hoc est, quod unumst pro laboribus tantis.
Salve, o venusta Sirmio, atque ero gaude:
Gaudete vosque, o Libuae lacus undae:
Ridete, quidquid est domi cachinnorum.

XXXI.

ON RETURN TO SIRMIO AND HIS VILLA.

Sirmio! of Islands and Peninsulas
Eyelet, and whatsoe'er in limpid meres
And vasty Ocean either Neptune owns,
Thy scenes how willing-glad once more I see,
At pain believing Thynia and the Fields 5
Bithynian left, I'm safe to sight thy Site.
Oh what more blessed be than cares resolved,
When mind casts burthen and by peregrine
Work over wearied, lief we hie us home
To lie reposing in the longed-for bed! 10
This be the single meed for toils so triste.
Hail, O fair Sirmio, in thy lord rejoice:
And ye, O waves of Lybian Lake be glad,
And laugh what laughter pealeth in my home.

Sirmio!