The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus Part 3

HE MEETS VARUS AND MISTRESS.

Led me my Varus to his flame, As I from Forum idling came.

Forthright some wh.o.r.elet judged I it Nor lacking looks nor wanting wit, When hied we thither, mid us three 5 Fell various talk, as how might be Bithynia now, and how it fared, And if some coin I made or spared.

"There was no cause" (I soothly said) "The Praetors or the Cohort made 10 Thence to return with oilier head; The more when ruled by ---- Praetor, as pile the Cohort rating."

Quoth they, "But certes as 'twas there The custom rose, some men to bear 15 Litter thou boughtest?" I to her To seem but richer, wealthier, Cry, "Nay, with me 'twas not so ill That, given the Province suffered, still Eight stiff-backed loons I could not buy.' 20 (Withal none here nor there owned I Who broken leg of Couch outworn On nape of neck had ever borne!) Then she, as pathic piece became, "Prithee Catullus mine, those same 25 Lend me, Serapis-wards I'd hie."

"Easy, on no-wise, no," quoth I, "Whate'er was mine, I lately said Is some mistake, my camarade One Cinna--Gaius--bought the lot, 30 But his or mine, it matters what?

I use it freely as though bought, Yet thou, pert troubler, most absurd, None suffer'st speak an idle word."

Varus drew me off to see his mistress as I was strolling from the Forum: a little wh.o.r.e, as it seemed to me at the first glance, neither inelegant nor lacking good looks. When we came in, we fell to discussing various subjects, amongst which, how was Bithynia now, how things had gone there, and whether I had made any money there. I replied, what was true, that neither ourselves nor the praetors nor their suite had brought away anything whereby to flaunt a better-scented poll, especially as our praetor, the irrumating beast, cared not a single hair for his suite. "But surely," she said, "you got some men to bear your litter, for they are said to grow there?" I, to make myself appear to the girl as one of the fortunate, "Nay," I say, "it did not go that badly with me, ill as the province turned out, that I could not procure eight strapping knaves to bear me." (But not a single one was mine either here or there who the fractured foot of my old bedstead could hoist on his neck.) And she, like a pathic girl, "I pray thee," says she, "lend me, my Catullus, those bearers for a short time, for I wish to be borne to the shrine of Serapis." "Stay,"

quoth I to the girl, "when I said I had this, my tongue slipped; my friend, Cinna Gaius, he provided himself with these. In truth, whether his or mine--what do I trouble? I use them as though I had paid for them. But thou, in ill manner with foolish teasing dost not allow me to be heedless."

XI.

Furi et Aureli, comites Catulli, Sive in extremos penetrabit Indos, Litus ut longe resonante Eoa Tunditur unda, Sive in Hyrcanos Arabesve molles, 5 Seu Sacas sagittiferosve Parthos, Sive qua septemgeminus colorat Aequora Nilus, Sive trans altas gradietur Alpes, Caesaris visens monimenta magni, 10 Gallic.u.m Rhenum, horribile aequor ulti- mosque Britannos, Omnia haec, quaec.u.mque feret voluntas Caelitum, temptare simul parati, Pauca nuntiate meae puellae 15 Non bona dicta.

c.u.m suis vivat valeatque moechis, Quos simul conplexa tenet trecentos, Nullum amans vere, sed identidem omnium Ilia rumpens: 20 Nec meum respectet, ut ante, amorem, Qui illius culpa cecidit velut prati Vltimi flos, praeter eunte postquam Tactus aratrost.

XI.

A PARTING INSULT TO LESBIA.

Furius and Aurelius, Catullus' friends, Whether extremest Indian sh.o.r.e he brave, Strands where far-resounding billow rends The shattered wave, Or 'mid Hyrcanians dwell he, Arabs soft and wild, 5 Sacae and Parthians of the arrow fain, Or where the Seven-mouth'd Nilus mud-defiled Tinges the Main, Or climb he lofty Alpine Crest and note Works monumental, Caesar's grandeur telling, 10 Rhine Gallic, horrid Ocean and remote Britons low-dwelling; All these (whatever shall the will design Of Heaven-homed G.o.ds) Oh ye prepared to tempt; Announce your briefest to that damsel mine 15 In words unkempt:-- Live she and love she wenchers several, Embrace three hundred wi' the like requitals, None truly loving and withal of all Bursting the vitals: 20 My love regard she not, my love of yore, Which fell through fault of her, as falls the fair Last meadow-floret whenas pa.s.sed it o'er Touch of the share.

Furius and Aurelius, comrades of Catullus, whether he penetrate to furthest Ind where the strand is lashed by the far-echoing Eoan surge, or whether 'midst the Hyrcans or soft Arabs, or whether the Sacians or quiver-bearing Parthians, or where the seven-mouthed Nile encolours the sea, or whether he traverse the lofty Alps, gazing at the monuments of mighty Caesar, the gallic Rhine, the dismal and remotest Britons, all these, whatever the Heavens' Will may bear, prepared at once to attempt,--bear ye to my girl this brief message of no fair speech. May she live and flourish with her swivers, of whom may she hold at once embraced the full three hundred, loving not one in real truth, but bursting again and again the flanks of all: nor may she look upon my love as before, she whose own guile slew it, e'en as a flower on the greensward's verge, after the touch of the pa.s.sing plough.

XII.

Marrucine Asini, manu sinistra Non belle uteris in ioco atque vino: Tollis lintea neglegentiorum.

Hoc salsum esse putas? fugit te, inepte: Quamvis sordida res et invenustast. 5 Non credis mihi? crede Polioni Fratri, qui tua furta vel talento Mutari velit: est enim leporum Disertus puer ac facetiarum.

Quare aut hendecasyllabos trecentos 10 Expecta aut mihi linteum remitte, Quod me non movet aestimatione, Verumst mnemosynum mei sodalis.

Nam sudaria Saetaba ex Hibereis Miserunt mihi muneri Fabullus 15 Et Veranius: haec amem necessest Vt Veraniolum meum et Fabullum.

XII.

TO M. ASINIUS WHO STOLE NAPERY.

Marrucinus Asinius! ill thou usest That hand sinistral in thy wit and wine Filching the napkins of more heedless hosts.

Dost find this funny? Fool it pa.s.seth thee How 'tis a sordid deed, a sorry jest. 5 Dost misbelieve me? Trust to Pollio, Thy brother, ready to compound such thefts E'en at a talent's cost; for he's a youth In speech past master and in fair pleasantries.

Of hendecasyllabics hundreds three 10 Therefore expect thou, or return forthright Linens whose loss affects me not for worth But as mementoes of a comrade mine.

For napkins Saetaban from Ebro-land Fabullus sent me a free-giftie given 15 Also Veranius: these perforce I love E'en as my Veraniolus and Fabullus.

Marrucinius Asinius, thou dost use thy left hand in no fair fas.h.i.+on 'midst the jests and wine: thou dost filch away the napkins of the heedless. Dost thou think this a joke? it flies thee, stupid fool, how coa.r.s.e a thing and unbecoming 'tis! Dost not credit me? credit thy brother Pollio who would willingly give a talent to divert thee from thy thefts: for he is a lad skilled in pleasantries and facetiousness. Wherefore, either expect hendecasyllables three hundred, or return me my napkin which I esteem, not for its value but as a pledge of remembrance from my comrade. For Fabullus and Veranius sent me as a gift handkerchiefs from Iberian Saetabis; these must I prize e'en as I do Veraniolus and Fabullus.

XIII.

Cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me Paucis, si tibi di favent, diebus, Si tec.u.m 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 c.u.m 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 G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds interpose And thee, Fabullus, make a Naught-but-nose.

Thou shalt feast well with me, my Fabullus, in a few days, if the G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds 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 ma.n.u.sque vestras 25 Non horrebitis admovere n.o.bis, * * * *

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 G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds! What horrid booklet d.a.m.nable 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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.ds give that client of thine ills enow, who sent thee so much tras.h.!.+

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 G.o.ds, 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 p.e.n.i.s 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 l.u.s.t'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.