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THE GIRL

Forgive me, Artemis; I break thy vow!

DAPHNIS

I'll slay a calf to Love, the cow to Cypris.

THE GIRL

A maid I hither came, a woman go.

DAPHNIS

Yea, but a mother and a nurse of children.

So these twain, joying in their youthful limbs,
Babbled together, and Love's stolen sweet
Tasted. Then up she rose, and silently
Moved off to tend her flock, her eyes downcast
But gladness in her heart. He towards his herd
Of Bulls departed full of Love's delight.

From the Carmina of Catullus
87-54 B. C.

TRANSLATED BY SIR RICHARD F. BURTON, 1894

TO FLAVIUS: MIS-SPEAKING HIS MISTRESS

THY Charmer (Flavius!) to Catullus' ear
Were she not manner'd mean and worst in wit
Perforce thou had'st praised nor could'st silence keep.

But some enfevered jade, I wot-not-what,

Some piece thou lovest, blushing this to own.
For, nowise 'customed widower nights to lie
Thou'rt ever summoned by no silent bed

With flow'r-wreaths fragrant and with Syrian oil,
By mattress, bolsters, here, there, everywhere
Deep-dinted, and by quaking, shaking couch
All crepitation and mobility.

Explain! none whoredoms (no!) shall close my lips.
Why? such outfuttered flank thou ne'er would'st show
Had not some fulsome work by thee been wrought.
Then what thou holdest, boon or bane be pleased
Disclose! For thee and thy beloved fain would I
Upraise to Heaven with my liveliest lay.

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?
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.
For what my damsel, fro' my breast took flight,
By me so loved, as shall loved be non,
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!)
All pitiful knaves and by-street wenches 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.

DIALOGUE CONCERNING CATULLUS
AT A HARLOT'S DOOR

QUINTUS

O To the gentle spouse right dear, right dear to his parent, Hail, and with increase fair Jupiter lend thee his aid, Door, 'tis said wast fain kind service render to Balbus

Erst while, long as the house by her old owner was held; Yet wast rumoured again to serve a purpose malignant, After the elder was stretched, thou being oped for a bride. Come, then, tell us the why in thee such change be reported That to thy lord hast abjured faithfulness owed of old?

DOOR

Never (so chance I to please Caelius owning me now-adays!)

Is it my own default, how so they say it be mine; Nor can any declare aught sin by me was committed.

Yet it is so declared (Quintus!) by fable of folk;

Who, whenever they find things done no better than should be, Come to me outcrying all: "Door, the default is thine own!"

QUINTUS

This be never enough for thee one-worded to utter,

But in such way to deal, each and all sense it and see.

DOOR

What shall I do? None asks, while nobody troubles to know.

QUINTUS

Willing are we? unto us stay not thy saying to say.

DOOR

First let me note that the maid to us committed (assert they) Was but a fraud: her mate never a touch of her had,

But that a father durst dishonour the bed of his first-born, Folk all swear, and the house hapless with incest bewray; Or that his impious mind was blunt with fiery passion

Or that his impotent son sprang from incapable seed. And to be sought was one with more nervous endowed, Who could better avail zone of the virgin to loose.

QUINTUS

'Sooth, of egregious sire for piety wondrous, thou tellest,
Who in the heart of his son lief was...!

Yet professed herself not only this to be knowing,
Brixia-town that lies under the Cycnean cliff,

Traversed by Mella-stream's soft-flowing yellow-hued current,
Brixia, Verona's mother, I love for my home.

DOOR

Eke of Posthumius' loves and Cornelius too there be tattle, With whom dared the dame evil advowtry commit.

QUINTUS

Here might somebody ask: "How, Door, hast mastered such matter?

Thou that canst never avail threshold of owner to quit, Neither canst listen to folk since here fast fixt to the side-posts Only one office thou hast, shutting or opening the house."

DOOR

Oft have I heard our dame in furtive murmurs o'er telling, When with her handmaids alone, these her flagitious deeds, Citing fore-cited names for that she never could fancy

Ever a door was endow'd either with earlet or tongue. Further she noted a wight whose name in public to mention Nill I, lest he upraise eyebrows of carrotty hue;

Long is the loon and large the law-suit brought they against him

Touching a child-bed, false, claim of a belly that lied.

To Lesbia

from Catullus. TRANSLATED BY George lamb, 1821

Love, my Lesbia, while we live;

Value all the cross advice

That the surly greybeards give
At a single farthing's price.

Suns that set again may rise;

We, when once our fleeting light,
Once our day in darkness dies,
Sleep in one eternal night.

Give me kisses thousand-fold,
Add to them a hundred more;
Other thousands still be told
Other hundreds o'er and o'er.
But, with thousands when we burn,
Mix, confuse the sums at last,
That we may not blushing learn
All that have between us past.
None shall know to what amount
Envy's due for so much bliss;
None for none shall ever count
All the kisses we will kiss.

To Lesbia

FROM CATULLUS. TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LAMB, 1821

THY kisses dost thou bid me count,
And tell thee, Lesbia, what amount
My rage for love and thee could tire,
And satisfy and cloy desire?

Many as grains of Libyan sand
Upon Cyrene's spicy land

From prescient Ammon's sultry dome
To sacred Battus' ancient tomb:
Many as stars that silent ken
At night the stolen loves of men.
Yes, when the kisses thou shalt kiss
Have reach'd a number vast as this,
Then may desire at length be stay'd,
And e'en my madness be allay'd:
Then when infinity defies
The calculations of the wise;

Nor evil voice's deadly charm

Can work the unknown number harm.

The Interview with Varus
and His Mistress

FROM CATULLUS. TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LAMB, 1821
As I was idling time away

Just by the Forum t'other day,

My Varus took me thence

To see the wanton, hid delight;

And, faith! she struck me at first sight
To want nor charms nor sense.

We then fell into conversation
About Bithynia's situation,

The value of the land,

And what my profit there had been:
I mention'd truly all I'd seen,
And how things really stand.
"That not the Pretor nor his train
Could there afford from any gain
More sumptuous dress or fare;
And sure not we, that Pretor's slaves,
The worst of profligates and knaves,
Who prized us not a hair."

"Of course," she said, "as they relate
'Tis usual, you some slaves for state
To bear your litter bought."

I felt a little pride arise;
And was not willing in her eyes
To be a pauper thought.

So cried, "Oh, yes. Though luck was bad,
It was not on the whole so sad,

That I eight slaves should lack."
In truth, I never here nor there
Possess'd a single slave to bear
My litter on his back.

Said she, a harlot thorough-bred!
"Catullus, lend me, pray, that bed,

I wish but to be taken

To where Serapis holds his fame"-
"Stay! stay!" said I, "let's think again—
I've none-I was mistaken.

""Tis Cinna's bed, scarce his alone,
I use it just as 'twere my own:
Who's owner nought care I.
Thou'rt an uncivil, troublous jade,
Whose artful, mercenary trade
Won't let one tell a lie."

To Mamurra's Mistress

FROM CATULLUS. TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LAMB, 1821 THOUGH splaw thy feet, and snub thy nose, Thy fingers short, and unlike sloes

Thine eyes in hue may be;

Thy lip with driv'lling moisture dew'd,

Thy language vulgar, manners rude,

Yet wanton, hail to thee!

And does the province praise thy grace;
And e'en presume thy form and face
With Lesbia to compare?

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