The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus Part 9

Adeste, hendecasyllabi, quot estis Omnes undique, quotquot estis omnes.

Ioc.u.m 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.

Circ.u.msist.i.te eam, et reflagitate, 10 'Moecha putida, redde codicillos, Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'

Non a.s.sis 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.'

x.x.xXII.

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 wh.o.r.e!) our noting books.

Our noting books (O rotten wh.o.r.e!) 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 b.i.t.c.h-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.

Cry all together in a higher key "Restore (O rotten wh.o.r.e!) our noting books, Our noting books (O rotten wh.o.r.e!) 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 prost.i.tute 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? O Muck, Brothel-Sp.a.w.n, or e'en loathsomer if it is possible so to be! Yet think not yet that this is enough. For if naught else we can extort a blush on thy brazened b.i.t.c.h's face. We'll yell again in heightened tones, "O putrid punk, hand back our writing tablets, hand back, O putrid punk, our writing tablets." But naught we profit, naught she budges. Changed must your measure and your manner be, an you would further progress make--"O Virgin pure and spotless, hand back our writing tablets."

x.x.xXIII.

Salve, nec minimo puella naso Nec bello pede nec nigris ocellis Nec longis digitis nec ore sicco Nec sane nimis elegante lingua, Decoctoris amica Formiani. 5 Ten provincia narrat esse bellam?

Tec.u.m Lesbia nostra conparatur?

O saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

x.x.xXIII.

TO MAMURRA'S MISTRESS.

Hail, girl who neither nose of minim size Owns, nor a pretty foot, nor jetty eyes, Nor thin long fingers, nor mouth dry of slaver Nor yet too graceful tongue of pleasant flavour, Leman to Formian that rake-a-h.e.l.l. 5 What, can the Province boast of thee as belle?

Thee with my Lesbia durst it make compare?

O Age insipid, of all humour bare!

Hail, O maiden with nose not of the tiniest, with foot lacking shape and eyes lacking darkness, with fingers scant of length, and mouth not dry and tongue scant enough of elegance, _chere amie_ of Formia.n.u.s the wildling.

And thee the province declares to be lovely? With thee our Lesbia is to be compared? O generation witless and unmannerly!

x.x.xXIIII.

O funde noster seu Sabine seu Tiburs, (Nam te esse Tiburtem autumant, quibus non est Cordi Catullum laedere: at quibus cordist, Quovis Sabinum pignore esse contendunt) Sed seu Sabine sive verius Tiburs, 5 Fui libenter in tua suburbana Villa malamque pectore expuli tussim, Non inmerenti quam mihi meus venter, Dum sumptuosas adpeto, dedit, cenas.

Nam, Sestia.n.u.s dum volo esse conviva, 10 Orationem in Antium pet.i.torem Plenam veneni et pestilentiae legi.

Hic me gravido frigida et frequens tussis Qua.s.savit usque dum in tuum sinum fugi Et me recuravi otioque et urtica. 15 Quare refectus maximas tibi grates Ago, meum quod non es ulta peccatum.

Nec deprecor iam, si nefaria scripta Sesti recepso, quin gravidinem et tussim Non mi, sed ipsi Sestio ferat frigus, 20 Qui tum vocat me, c.u.m malum librum legi.

x.x.xXIIII.

CATULLUS TO HIS OWN FARM.

O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine, (For style thee "Tiburs" who have not at heart To hurt Catullus, whereas all that have Wage any wager thou be Sabine cla.s.sed) But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer 5 To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain And fro' my bronchials drave that cursed cough Which not unmerited on me my maw, A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.

For I requesting to be Sestius' guest 10 Read against claimant Antius a speech, Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.

Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent cough Shook me till fled I to thy bosom, where Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills. 15 Wherefore recruited now best thanks I give To thee for nowise punishing my sins: Nor do I now object if noisome writs Of Sestius hear I, but that cold and cough And rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius' self 20 Who asks me only his ill writs to read.

O, Homestead of ours, whether Sabine or Tiburtine (for that thou'rt Tiburtine folk concur, in whose heart 'tis not to wound Catullus; but those in whose heart 'tis, will wager anything thou'rt Sabine) but whether Sabine or more truly Tiburtine, o'erjoyed was I to be within thy rural country-home, and to cast off an ill cough from my chest, which--not unearned--my belly granted me, for grasping after sumptuous feeds. For, in my wish to be Sestius' guest, his defence against the plaintiff Antius, crammed with venom and pestilent dulness, did I read through. Hence a chill heavy rheum and fitful cough shattered me continually until I fled to thine asylum, and brought me back to health with rest and nettle-broth.

Wherefore, re-manned, I give thee utmost thanks, that thou hast not avenged my fault. Nor do I pray now for aught but that, should I re-take Sestius'

nefarious script, its frigid vapidness may bring a cold and cough to Sestius' self; for he but invites me when I read dull stuff.

x.x.xXV.

Acmen Septumius suos amores Tenens in gremio 'mea' inquit 'Acme, Ni te perdite amo atque amare porro Omnes sum adsidue paratus annos Quantum qui pote plurimum perire, 5 Solus in Libya Indiave tosta Caesio veniam obvius leoni.'

Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante, Dextra sternuit adprobationem.

At Acme leviter caput reflectens 10 Et dulcis pueri ebrios ocellos Illo purpureo ore saviata 'Sic' inquit 'mea vita Septumille, Huic uni domino usque serviamus, Vt multo mihi maior acriorque 15 Ignis mollibus ardet in medullis.'

Hoc ut dixit, Amor, sinistra ut ante, Dextra sternuit adprobationem.

Nunc ab auspicio bono profecti Mutuis animis amant amantur. 20 Vnam Septumius misellus Acmen Mavolt quam Syrias Britanniasque: Vno in Septumio fidelis Acme Facit delicias libidinesque.

Quis ullos homines beatiores 25 Vidit, quis Venerem auspicatiorem?

x.x.xXV.

ON ACME AND SEPTUMIUS.

To Acme quoth Septumius who his fere Held on his bosom--"Acme, mine! next year, Unless I love thee fondlier than before, And with each twelve month love thee more and more, As much as lover's life can slay with yearning, 5 Alone in Lybia, or Hind's clime a-burning, Be mine to encounter Lion grisly-eyed!"

While he was speaking Love on leftward side (As wont) approving sneeze from dextral sped.

But Acme backwards gently bending head, 10 And the love-drunken eyes of her sweet boy Kissing with yonder rosy mouth, "My joy,"

She murmured, "my life-love Septumillus mine!

Unto one master's hest let's aye incline, As burns with fuller and with fiercer fire 15 In my soft marrow set, this love-desire!"

While she was speaking, Love from leftward side (As wont) with sneeze approving rightwards hied.

Now with boon omens wafted on their way, In mutual fondness, love and loved are they. 20 Love-sick Septumius holds one Acme's love, Of Syrias or either Britains high above, Acme to one Septumius full of faith Her love and love-liesse surrendereth.

Who e'er saw mortals happier than these two? 25 Who e'er a better omened Venus knew?

Septumius clasping Acme his adored to his bosom, "Acme mine," quoth he, "if thee I love not to perdition, nor am prepared to love through all the future years moreover without cease, as greatly and distractedly as man may,--alone in Libya or in torrid India may I oppose a steel-eyed lion." As thus he said, Love, leftwards as before, with approbation rightwards sneezed. Then Acme slightly bending back her head, and the swimming eyes of her sweet boy with rose-red lips a-kissing, "So," quoth she, "my life, Septumillus, this Lord unique let us serve for aye, as more forceful in me burns the fire greater and keener 'midst my soft marrow." As thus she said, Love, leftwards as before, with approbation rightwards sneezed. Now with good auspice urged along, with mutual minds they love and are beloved. The thrall o' love Septumius his only Acme far would choose, than Tyrian or Britannian realms: the faithful Acme with Septumius unique doth work her love delights and wantonings. Whoe'er has seen folk blissfuller, whoe'er a more propitious union?

x.x.xXVI.

Iam ver egelidos refert tepores, Iam caeli furor aequinoctialis Iocundis Zephyri silescit aureis.

Linquantur Phrygii, Catulle, campi Nicaeaeque ager uber aestuosae: 5 Ad claras Asiae volemus urbes.

Iam mens praetrepidans avet vagari, Iam laeti studio pedes vigesc.u.n.t.

O dulces comitum valete coetus, Longe quos simul a domo profectos 10 Diversae variae viae reportant.

x.x.xXVI.

HIS ADIEUX TO BITHYNIA.

Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back, Now th' equinoctial heaven's rage and wrack Hushes at hest of Zephyr's bonny breeze.