No More Learning

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! Eyebabe of Islands and Peninsulas, which Neptune holds whether in
limpid lakes or on mighty mains, how gladly and how gladsomely do I re-see
thee, scarce crediting that I've left behind Thynia and the Bithynian
champaign, and that safe and sound I gaze on thee. O what's more blissful
than cares released, when the mind casts down its burden, and when wearied
with travel-toils we reach our hearth, and sink on the craved-for couch.
This and only this repays our labours numerous. Hail, lovely Sirmio, and
gladly greet thy lord; and joy ye, wavelets of the Lybian lake; laugh ye
the laughters echoing from my home.

XXXII.

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

XXXII.

CRAVING IPSITHILLA'S LAST FAVOURS.

I'll love my Ipsithilla sweetest,
My desires and my wit the meetest,
So bid me join thy nap o' noon!
Then (after bidding) add the boon
Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare, 5
Lest thou be led afar to fare;
Nay bide at home, for us prepare
Nine-fold continuous love-delights.
But aught do thou to hurry things,
For dinner-full I lie aback, 10
And gown and tunic through I crack.

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

XXXIII.

O furum optime balneariorum
Vibenni pater, et cinaede fili,
(Nam dextra pater inquinatiore,
Culo filius est voraciore)
Cur non exilium malasque in oras 5
Itis, quandoquidem patris rapinae
Notae sunt populo, et natis pilosas,
Fili, non potes asse venditare.

XXXIII.

ON THE VIBENII--BATH-THIEVES.

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

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

XXXIIII.

Dianae sumus in fide
Puellae et pueri integri:
_Dianam pueri integri_
Puellaeque canamus.

O Latonia, maximi 5
Magna progenies Iovis,
Quam mater prope Deliam
Deposivit olivam,

Montium domina ut fores
Silvarumque virentium 10
Saltuumque reconditorum
Amniumque sonantum.

Tu Lucina dolentibus
Iuno dicta puerperis,
Tu potens Trivia et notho's 15
Dicta lumine Luna.

Tu cursu, dea, menstruo
Metiens iter annuom
Rustica agricolae bonis
Tecta frugibus exples. 20

Sis quocumque tibi placet
Sancta nomine, Romulique,
Antique ut solita's, bona
Sospites ope gentem.

XXXIIII.

HYMN TO DIANA.

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

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

That of the mountains reign thou Queen
And forest ranges ever green, 10
And coppices by man unseen,
And rivers resonant.

Thou art Lucina, Juno hight
By mothers lien in painful plight,
Thou puissant Trivia and the Light 15
Bastard, yclept the Lune.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXXV.

Poetae tenero, meo sodali
Velim Caecilio, papyre, dicas,
Veronam veniat, Novi relinquens
Comi moenia Lariumque litus:
Nam quasdam volo cogitationes 5
Amici accipiat sui meique.
Quare, si sapiet, viam vorabit,
Quamvis candida milies puella
Euntem revocet manusque collo
Ambas iniciens roget morari, 10
Quae nunc, si mihi vera nuntiantur,
Illum deperit inpotente amore:
Nam quo tempore legit incohatam
Dindymi dominam, ex eo misellae
Ignes interiorem edunt medullam. 15
Ignosco tibi, Sapphica puella
Musa doctior: est enim venuste
Magna Caecilio incohata mater.

XXXV.

AN INVITATION TO POET CECILIUS.

Now to that tender bard, my Comrade fair,
(Cecilius) say I, "Paper go, declare,
Verona must we make and bid to New
Comum's town-walls and Larian Shores adieu;"
For I determined certain fancies he 5
Accept from mutual friend to him and me.
Wherefore he will, if wise, devour the way,
Though the blonde damsel thousand times essay
Recall his going and with arms a-neck
A-winding would e'er seek his course to check; 10
A girl who (if the truth be truly told)
Dies of a hopeless passion uncontroul'd;
For since the doings of the Dindymus-dame,
By himself storied, she hath read, a flame
Wasting her inmost marrow-core hath burned. 15
I pardon thee, than Sapphic Muse more learn'd,
Damsel: for truly sung in sweetest lays
Was by Cecilius Magna Mater's praise.

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

XXXVI.

Annales Volusi, cacata charta,
Votum solvite pro mea puella:
Nam sanctae Veneri Cupidinique
Vovit, si sibi restitutus essem
Desissemque truces vibrare iambos, 5
Electissima pessimi poetae
Scripta tardipedi deo daturam
Infelicibus ustulanda lignis.
Et haec pessima se puella vidit
Iocose lepide vovere divis. 10
Nunc, o caeruleo creata ponto,
Quae sanctum Idalium Vriosque portus
Quaeque Ancona Cnidumque harundinosam
Colis quaeque Amathunta quaeque Golgos
Quaeque Durrachium Adriae tabernam, 15
Acceptum face redditumque votum,
Si non inlepidum neque invenustumst.
At vos interea venite in ignem,
Pleni ruris et inficetiarum
Annales Volusi, cacata charta. 20

XXXVI.

ON "THE ANNALS"--A SO-CALLED POEM OF VOLUSIUS.

Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed!
Fulfil that promise erst my damsel made;
Who vowed to Holy Venus and her son,
Cupid, should I return to her anon
And cease to brandish iamb-lines accurst, 5
The writ selected erst of bards the worst
She to the limping Godhead would devote
With slowly-burning wood of illest note.
This was the vilest which my girl could find
With vow facetious to the Gods assigned. 10
Now, O Creation of the azure sea,
Holy Idalium, Urian havenry
Haunting, Ancona, Cnidos' reedy site,
Amathus, Golgos, and the tavern hight
Durrachium--thine Adrian abode-- 15
The vow accepting, recognize the vowed
As not unworthy and unhandsome naught.
But do ye meanwhile to the fire be brought,
That teem with boorish jest of sorry blade,
Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed. 20

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

XXXVII.

Salax taberna vosque contubernales,
A pileatis nona fratribus pila,
Solis putatis esse mentulas vobis,
Solis licere, quidquid est puellarum,
Confutuere et putare ceteros hircos? 5
An, continenter quod sedetis insulsi
Centum an ducenti, non putatis ausurum
Me una ducentos inrumare sessores?
Atqui putate: namque totius vobis
Frontem tabernae scorpionibus scribam. 10
Puella nam mi, quae meo sinu fugit,
Amata tantum quantum amabitur nulla,
Pro qua mihi sunt magna bella pugnata,
Consedit istic. hanc boni beatique
Omnes amatis, et quidem, quod indignumst, 15
Omnes pusilli et semitarii moechi;
Tu praeter omnes une de capillatis,
Cuniculosae Celtiberiae fili
Egnati, opaca quem bonum facit barba
Et dens Hibera defricatus urina. 20

XXXVII.

TO THE FREQUENTERS OF A LOW TAVERN.

Salacious Tavern and ye taverner-host,
From Pileate Brothers the ninth pile-post,
D'ye claim, you only of the mentule boast,
D'ye claim alone what damsels be the best
To swive: as he-goats holding all the rest? 5
Is't when like boobies sit ye incontinent here,
One or two hundred, deem ye that I fear
Two hundred ---- at one brunt?
Ay, think so, natheless all your tavern-front
With many a scorpion I will over-write. 10
For that my damsel, fro' my breast took flight,
By me so loved, as shall loved be none,
Wherefor so mighty wars were waged and won,
Does sit in public here. Ye fain, rich wights,
All woo her: thither too (the chief of slights! ) 15
All pitiful knaves and by-street wenchers fare,
And thou, (than any worse), with hanging hair,
In coney-breeding Celtiberia bred,
Egnatius! bonnified by beard full-fed,
And teeth with Spanish urine polished. 20

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

XXXVIII.

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

XXXVIII.

A COMPLAINT TO CORNIFICIUS.

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

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

XXXVIIII.

Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes,
Renidet usque quaque. sei ad rei ventumst
Subsellium, cum orator excitat fletum,
Renidet ille. sei ad pii rogum fili
Lugetur, orba cum flet unicum mater, 5
Renidet ille. quidquid est, ubicumquest,
Quodcumque agit, renidet. hunc habet morbum,
Neque elegantem, ut arbitror, neque urbanum.
Quare monendum test mihi, bone Egnati.
Si urbanus esses aut Sabinus aut Tiburs 10
Aut fartus Vmber aut obesus Etruscus
Aut Lanuinus ater atque dentatus
Aut Transpadanus, ut meos quoque attingam,
Aut quilubet, qui puriter lavit dentes,
Tamen renidere usque quaque te nollem: 15
Nam risu inepto res ineptior nullast.
Nunc Celtiber es: Celtiberia in terra,
Quod quisque minxit, hoc sibi solet mane
Dentem atque russam defricare gingivam,
Vt quo iste vester expolitior dens est, 20
Hoc te amplius bibisse praedicet loti.

XXXVIIII.

ON EGNATIUS OF THE WHITE TEETH.

Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,
Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wight
In dock, when pleader would draw tears, the while
He grins. When pious son at funeral pile
Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son, 5
He grins. Whate'er, whene'er, howe'er is done,
Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,
Nor kind, nor courteous--so beseemeth me--
Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!
Wert thou corrupt Sabine or a Tiburtine, 10
Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrown
Swarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,
Transpadan also, that mine own I touch,
Or any washing teeth to shine o'er much,
Yet thy incessant grin I would not see, 15
For naught than laughter silly sillier be.
Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,
Where man who's urined therewith loves a-morn
His teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;
So the more polisht are your teeth, the more 20
Argue they sipping stale in ampler store.

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

XXXX.

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

XXXX.

THREATENING RAVIDUS WHO STOLE HIS MISTRESS.

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

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

XXXXI.

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

XXXXI.

ON MAMURRA'S MISTRESS.

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

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

XXXXII.

Adeste, hendecasyllabi, quot estis
Omnes undique, quotquot estis omnes.
Iocum me putat esse moecha turpis
Et negat mihi nostra reddituram
Pugillaria, si pati potestis. 5
Persequamur eam, et reflagitemus.
Quae sit, quaeritis. illa, quam videtis
Turpe incedere, mimice ac moleste
Ridentem catuli ore Gallicani.
Circumsistite eam, et reflagitate, 10
'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,
Redde, putida moecha, codicillos. '
Non assis facis? o lutum, lupanar,
Aut si perditius potest quid esse.
Sed non est tamen hoc satis putandum. 15
Quod si non aliud potest, ruborem
Ferreo canis exprimamus ore.
Conclamate iterum altiore voce
'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,
Redde, putida moecha, codicillos. ' 20
Sed nil proficimus, nihil movetur.
Mutandast ratio modusque vobis,
Siquid proficere amplius potestis,
'Pudica et proba, redde codicillos. '

XXXXII.

ON A STRUMPET WHO STOLE HIS TABLETS.

Come, Hendecasyllabics, many as may
All hither, every one that of you be!
That fulsome harlot makes me laughing-stock
And she refuses at our prayer restore
Our stolen Note-books, an such slights ye bear. 5
Let us pursue her clamouring our demands.
"Who's she? " ye question: yonder one ye sight
Mincingly pacing mime-like, perfect pest,
With jaws wide grinning like a Gallic pup.
Stand all round her dunning with demands, 10
"Return (O rotten whore! ) our noting books.
Our noting books (O rotten whore! ) return! "
No doit thou car'st? O Mire! O Stuff o' stews!
Or if aught fouler filthier dirt there be.
Yet must we never think these words suffice. 15
But if naught else avail, at least a blush
Forth of that bitch-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.
Cry all together in a higher key
"Restore (O rotten whore! ) our noting books,
Our noting books (O rotten whore! ) restore! " 20
Still naught avails us, nothing is she moved.
Now must our measures and our modes be changed
An we would anywise our cause advance.
"Restore (chaste, honest Maid! ) our noting books! "

Hither, all ye hendecasyllables, as many as may be, from every part, all of
ye, as many soever as there be! A shameless prostitute deems me fair sport,
and denies return to me of our writing tablets, if ye are able to endure
this. Let's after her, and claim them back. "Who may she be," ye ask? That
one, whom ye see strutting awkwardly, stagily, and stiffly, and with a
laugh on her mouth like a Gallic whelp. Throng round her, and claim them
back. "O putrid punk, hand back our writing tablets; hand back, O putrid
punk, our writing tablets. " Not a jot dost heed?