Part 3

For since lately she read his high-preluding Queen of Dindymus, all her heart is ever Melting inly with ardour and with anguish. 15

Maiden, laudable is that high emotion, Muse more rapturous, you, than any Sappho. The Great Mother he surely sings divinely.

XXXVI.

1.

Vilest paper of all dishonour, annals Of Volusius, hear my lovely lady's

Vow, and pay it; awhile she swore to Venus And fond Cupid, if ever I returning Ceased from enmity, left to launch iambics, 5

She would surely devote the sorry poet's Choicest rarities unto sooty Vulcan, The lame deity, there to blaze lamenting.

With such drollery, such supreme defiance, Swore strange oath to the gods the naughty wanton. 10

2.

Now, O heavenly child of azure Ocean, Queen of Idaly, queen of Urian highlands,

Who Ancona the fair, the reedy Cnidos Hauntest, Amathus and the lawny Golgi, Or Dyrrhachium, hostel Adriatic; 15

Hear thy votaress, answer her petition; 'Tis most graceful, a dainty thought to charm thee.

But ye verses, away to fire, to burning, Rank rusticities, empty vapid annals Of Volusius, heap of all dishonour. 20

XXXVII.

1.

O frowsy tavern, frowsy fellowship therein, Ninth post in order next beyond the twins cap-crown'd,

Shall manly service none but you alone employ, Shall you alone whatever in the world smiles fair, Possess it, every other hold to lack esteem? 5

Or if in idiot impotence arow you sit, One hundred, yes two hundred, am not I, think you, A man to bring mine action on your whole row there?

So think not, he that likes not; answer how you may, With scorpion I, with emblem all your haunt will scrawl. 10

2.

For she the bright one, lately fled beyond these arms, The maid belov'd as maiden is belov'd no more, Whom I to win, stood often in the breach, fought long,

Has sat amongst you. Her the grand, the great, all, all Do dearly love her; yea, beshrew the damned wrong, 15 Each slight seducer, every lounger highway-born,

You chiefly, peerless paragon of the tribe long-lock'd, Rude Celtiberia's child, the bushy rabbit-den,

Egnatius, so modish in the big bush-beard, And teeth a native lotion hardly scours quite pure. 20

XXXVIII.

Cornificius, ill is your Catullus, Ill, ah heaven, a weary weight of anguish, More more weary with every day, with each hour.

You deny me the least, the very lightest Help, one whisper of happy thought to cheer me. 5

Nay, I'm sorrowful. You to slight my passion? Ah! one word, but a tiny word to cheer me, Sad as ever a tear Simonidean.

XXXIX.

1.

Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth, Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in view Where stands a pleader just prepar'd to rouse our tears,

Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn Where weeps a mother o'er the lost, the kind one son, 5 Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or place

Or thing soe'er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaint Is his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.

2.

So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine, 10 A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,

A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth'd, A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax'd, In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,

Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not, 15 For silly laughter, it's a silly thing indeed.

3.

Well: you're a Celtiberian; in the parts thereby What pass'd the night in water, every man, come dawn, Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;

So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine, 20 So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.

XL.

What fatality, what chimera drives thee Headlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?

What fell deity, most malign to listen, Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?

Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people? 5 Break with clamour at any cost the silence?

Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop'd my darling Love to fondle, a sure retaliation.

XLI.

Ameana, the maiden of the people, Asks me sesterces, all the many thousands.

Maiden she with a nose not wholly faultless, Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion.

Wherefore look to the maiden, her relations: 5 Call her family, summon all the doctors.

Your poor maiden is oddly touch'd; a mirror Sure would lend her a soberer reflexion.

XLII.

1.

Come all hendecasyllables whatever, Wheresoever ye house you, all whatever.

I the game of an impudent adultress? She refuse to return to me the tablets Where you syllable? O ye can't be silent. 5 Up, have after her, ask renunciation.

Would ye know her? a woman, you shall eye her Strutting loftily, whiles she laughs a loud laugh Vast and vulgar, a Gaulish hound beseeming. Form your circle about her, ask her, urge her. 10

'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over. Hark, the note-book, adultress, hand it over.'

2.

What? you scorn us? O ugly filth, detested Trull, whatever is all abomination.

Nay then, louder. Enough as yet it is not. 15 If this only remains, perhaps the dog-like Face may colour, a brassy blush may yield us. Swell your voices in higher harsher yellings,

'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over; Hark, the note-book; adultress, hand it over.' 20

Look, she moves not at all: we waste the moments. Change your quality, try another issue. Such composure a sweeter air may alter. 'Pure and virtuous, hand the note-book over.'

XLIII.

Hail, fair virgin, a nose among the larger, Feet not dainty, nor eyes to match a raven, Mouth scarce tenible, hands not wholly faultless, Tongue most surely not absolute refinement, Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion. 5 Thou the beauty, the talk of all the province? Thou my Lesbia tamely think to rival? O preposterous, empty generation!

XLIV.

O thou my Sabine farmstead or my Tiburtine, For who Catullus would not harm, avow, kind souls, Thou surely art at Tibur; and who quarrel will Sabine declare thee, stake the world to prove their say:

But be'st a Sabine, be'st a very Tiburtine, 5 At thy suburban villa what delight I knew To spit the tiresome cough away, my lungs' ill guest, My belly brought me, not without a sad weak sin, Because a costly dinner I desir'd too much.

For I, to feast with Sestius, that host unmatch'd, 10 A speech of his, pure poison, every line deep-drugg'd, His speech against the plaintiff Antius, read through.

Whereat a cold chill, soon a gusty cough in fits, Shook, shook me ever, till to thy retreat I fled, There duly dosed with nettle and repose found cure. 15 So, now recruited, thanks superlative, dear farm, I give thee, who so lightly didst avenge that sin.

And trust me, farm, if ever I again take up With Sextius' black charges, I'll rebel no more; But let the chill things damn to cold, to cough, not me 20 That read the volume--no, but him, the man's vain self.

XLV.

1.

While Septimius in his arms his Acme Fondled closely, 'My own,' said he, 'my Acme,

If I love not as unto death, nor hold me Ever faithfully well-prepar'd to largest Strain of fiery wooer yet to love thee, 5

Then in Libya, then may I alone in Burning India face a sulky lion.'

Scarce he ended, upon the right did eager Love sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.

2.

Acme quietly back her head reclining 10 Towards her boy, with a rosy mouth delightful Kissed his passionate eyes elately swimming,

Then 'Septimius, O my life' she murmur'd, 'So may he that is in this hour ascendant

Rule us ever, as in me burns a greater 15 Fire, a fiercer, in every vein triumphing.'

Scarce she ended, upon the right did eager Love sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.

3.

So, that augury joyous each possessing, Loves, is lov'd with an even emulation. 20

Poor Septimius, all to please his Acme, Recks not Syria, recks not any Britain.

In Septimius only faithful Acme Makes her softnesses, holds her happy pleasures.

When did mortal on any so rejoicing 25 Look, on union hallow'd as divinely?

XLVI.

Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth, Now doth Zephyrus, health benignly breathing, Still the boisterous equinoctial heaven.

Leave we Phrygia, leave the plains, Catullus, Leave Nicaea, the sultry soil of harvest: 5 On for Asia, for the starry cities. Now all flurry the soul is out a-ranging, Now with vigour aflame the feet renew them.

Farewell company true, my lovely comrades. You so joyfully borne from home together, 10 Now o'er many a weary way returning.

XLVII.

Porcius, Socration, the greedy Piso's Tools of thievery, rogues to famish ages,

So that filthy Priapus ousts to please you My Veranius even and Fabullus?

What? shall you then at early noon carousing 5 Lap in luxury? they, my jolly comrades, Search the streets on a quest of invitation?

XLVIII.

If, Juventius, I the grace win ever Still on beauteous honied eyes to kiss thee, I would kiss them a million, yet a million.

Yea, nor count me to win the full attainment, Not, tho' heavier e'en than ears at harvest, 5 Fall my kisses, a wealthy crop delightful.

XLIX.

Greatest speaker of any born a Roman, Marcus Tullius, all that are, that have been, That shall ever in after-years be famous;

Thanks superlative unto thee Catullus Renders, easily last among the poets. 5

He as easily last among the poets As thou surely the first among the pleaders.

L.

1.

Dear Lucinius, yestereve we linger'd Scrawling fancies, a hundred, in my tablets, Wits in combat; a treaty this between us.

Scribbling drolleries each of us together Launched one arrowy metre and another, 5 Tenders jocular o'er the merry wine-cup.

2.

So quite sorely with all your humour heated Gay Lucinius, I that eve departed.

Food my misery could not any lighten, Sleep nor quiet upon my eyes descended. 10

Still untamable o'er the couch did I then Turn and tumble, in haste to see the day-light, Hear your prattle again, again be with you.

3.

Then, when weary with all the worry, numb'd, dead, Sank my body, upon the bed reposing, 15 This, O humorous heart, did I, a poem Write, my tedious anguish all revealing.

O beware then of hardihood; a lover's Plea for charity, dear my friend, reject not: What if Nemesis haply claim repayment? 20 She is tyrannous. O beware offending.

LI.

He to me like unto the Gods appeareth, He, if I dare speak it, ascends above them, Face to face who toward thee attently sitting Gazes or hears thee

Lovely in sweet laughter; alas within me 5 Every lost sense falleth away for anguish; When as I look'd on thee, upon my lips no Whisper abideth, Straight my tongue froze, Lesbia; soon a subtle Fire thro' each limb streameth adown; with inward 10 Sound the full ears tinkle, on either eye night's Canopy darkens. Ease alone, Catullus, alone afflicts thee; Ease alone breeds error of heady riot; Ease hath entomb'd princes of old renown and 15 Cities of honour.

LII.

Enough, Catullus! how can you delay to die? If in the curule chair a hump sits, Nonius; A would-be consul lies in hope, Vatinius; Enough, Catullus! how can you delay to die?

LIII.

How I laughed at a wag amid the circle! He, when Calvus in high denunciation Of Vatinius had declaim'd divinely, Hands uplifted as in supreme amazement, Cried 'God bless us! a wordy cockalorum!' 5

LIV.

Otho's head is a very dwarf; a rustic's Shanks has Herius, only semi-cleanly; Libo's airs to a fume of art refine them. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 _Yet thou flee'st not above my keen iambics_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [_So may destiny doom me quite to silence_] As I care not if every line offend thee 10 And Sufficius, age in youth's revival. . . . . . . . . Thou shalt kindle at innocent iambics, Mighty general, once again returning.

LV.

1.

List, I beg, provided you're in humour, Speak your privacy, show what alley veils you. You I sought on Campus, I, the lesser, You on Circus, in all the bills but you, sir. You with father Jove in holy temple. 5 Then, where flocks the parade to Magnus' arches,

Friend, I hail'd each lady promenader, Each, I found, did face me quite sedately.

2.

What? they steal, I loudly cried protesting, My Camerius? out upon the wenches! 10 Answer'd one and lightly bared a bosom, 'See! what bowery roses; here he hides him.'

Yea 'twould task e'en Hercules to bear you, You so scornful, friend, in your refusing.

3.

Not tho' I were warder of the Cretans, 15 Not tho' Pegasus on his airy pinion,

Perseus feathery-footed, I a Ladas, Rhesus' chariot yok'd to snowy coursers, Add each feathery sandal, every flying Power, ask fleetness of all the winds of heaven, 20 Mine, Camerius, and to me devoted; Yet with drudgery sorely spent should I, yet

Worn, outworn with languor unto languor Faint, O friend, in an empty quest to find you.

4.

Say, where think you anon to be; declare it, 25 (15) Fair and free, submit, commit to daylight. What? still thrall to the lovely lily ladies? Keep close mouth, lock fast the tongue within it, Love's felicity falls without fruition; Venus still is free to talk, a babbler. 30 (20) Yet close palate, an if ye will it; only In my love some part to bear refuse not.

LVII.

O rare sympathies! happy rakes united! There Mamurra the woman, here a Caesar.

Who can wonder? An ugly brand on either, His, true Formian, his, politely Roman, Rests indelible, in the bone residing. 5

Either infamous, each a twin dishonour, Bookish brethren, a dainty pair pedantic;

One adultrous, as hungry he; with equal Parts in women, a lusty corporation. O rare sympathies! happy rakes united! 10

LVIII.

That bright Lesbia, Caelius, the self-same Peerless Lesbia, she than whom Catullus Self nor family more devoutly cherish'd, By foul roads, or in every shameful alley, Strains the vigorous issue of the people. 5

LIX.

Poor Rufa from Bononia Rufulus gallants, Menenius' errant lady, she that in grave-yards (You've seen her often) snaps from every pile her meal, When hotly chasing dusty loaves the fire rolls down, She felt some half-shorn corpseman and his hand's big blow. 5

LX.

Hadst thou a Libyan lioness on heights all stone, A Scylla, barking wolvish at the loins' last verge, To bear thee, O black-hearted, O to shame forsworn, That unto supplication in my last sad need Thou mightst not harken, deaf to ruth, a beast, no man? 5

LXI.

God, on verdurous Helicon Dweller, child of Urania, Thou that draw'st to the man the fair Maiden, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus: 5

Wreathe thy brows in amaracus' Fragrant blossom; an aureat Veil be round thee; approach, in all Joy, approach with a luminous Foot, a sandal of amber. 10

Come, for jolly the time, awake. Chant in melody musical Hymns of bridal; on earth a foot Beating, hands to the winds above Torches oozily swinging. 15

Such, as she that on Idaly Venus dwelleth, appear'd before Him, the Phrygian arbiter, So with Mallius happily Happy Junia weddeth. 20

Like some myrtle of Asia Bright in airily blossoming Boughs, the wood Hamadryades Nurse with showery dew, to be Theirs, a tender plaything. 25

So come to us in haste; away, Leave thy Thespian hollow-arch'd Rock, muse-haunted, Aonian, Drench'd in spray from aloft, the cold Drift of Nymph Aganippe. 30

Homeward summon a sovereign Wife most passionate, holden in Love fast prisoner: ivy not Closer closes an elm around, Interchangeably trailing. 35

You too with him, O you for whom Comes as joyous a time, your own. Virgins stainless of heart, arise. Chant in unison, Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 40

That, more readily listening, Whiles your song to familiar Duty calls him, he hie apace, Lord of fair paramours, of youth's Fair affection uniter. 45

Who more worthy than he to list Lovers wearily languishing? Bends from heaven a sovereign God adorabler? Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 50

You the father in years for his Child beseecheth; a virginal Zone falls slackly to earth for you, You half-fear in his hankering Lists the groomsman approaching. 55

You from motherly lap the bright Girl can sever; your hand divine Gives dominion, ushering Warm the lover. O Hymen, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 60

Nought delightful, if you be far, Nought unharmed of envious Tongues, Love wins him: if you be near Much he wins him. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 65

Houses cannot, if you be far, Yield their children, a babe renew Sire or mother: if you be near, Comes renewal. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 70

If your great ceremonial Fail, no champion yeomanry Guards the border. If you be near Arms the border. O excellent God, that hath not a rival. 75

Fling the portal apart. The bride Waits. O see ye the luminous Torch-flakes ruddily flickering? . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nought she hears us: her innocent (80) Eyes do weep to be going. 85

Weep not, lady; for envious Tongue no lovelier owneth, Au- Runculeia; nor any more Fair saw rosily bright the dawn (85) Leave his chamber in Ocean. 90

Such in many a flowering Garden, trimm'd for a lord's delight, Stands some delicate hyacinth. Yet you tarry. The day declines. (90) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 95

Forth, fair bride, to the people, if So it likes you, a-listening Words that please us. O eye ye yon Torches ruddily flickering? (95) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 100

Husband never of yours shall haunt Stained wanton, a mutinous Fancy shamefully following, Tire not ever, or e'er from your (100) Dainty bosom unyoke him. 105

He more lithe than a vine amid Trees, that, mazily folded, it Clasps and closes, in amorous Arms shall close thee. The day declines. (105) Forth, fair bride, to the people. 110

Couch of pleasure, _O odorous Couch, whose gorgeous apparellings, Silver-purple, on Indian Woods do rest them; adown_ the bright Feet in ivory glisten; 115

When thy lord in his hour attains, What large extasy, while the night (110) Fleets, or noon the meridian Passes thoro'. The day declines. Forth, fair bride, to the people. 120

Lift the torches aloft in air, Boys: the fiery veil is here. (115) Come, to measure your hymn rehearse. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 125

Nor withhold ye the countryman's Ribald raillery Fescenine. (120) Nor if happily boys declare Thy dominion attaint, refuse, Youth, the nuts to be flinging. 130

Fling, O womanish youth; the boys Ask thee charity. Time agone (125) Toys and folly; to-day begins Our high duty, Talassius. Hasten, youth, to be flinging. 135

Thou didst surely but yestereve Mock the women, a favourite (130) Far above them: anon the first Beard, the razor. Alack, alas! Hasten, youth, to be flinging. 140

You, whom odorous oils declare Bridegroom, swerve not; a slippery (135) Love calls lightly, but yet refrain. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 145

Lawful only did e'er delight You, we know; but it is not, O (140) Husband, lawful as heretofore. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 150

Bride, thou also, if he demand Aught, refuse not, assent, obey. (145) Love can angrily pipe adieu. Hymen, O Hymenaeus, O Hymen, O Hymenaeus. 155