The Poems and Fragments of Catullus Part 17

Lx.x.xVI.

Lovely to many a man is Quintia; shapely, majestic, Stately, to me; each point singly 'tis easy to grant.

'Lovely' the whole, I grant not; in all that bodily largeness, Lives not a grain of salt, breathes not a charm anywhere.

Lesbia--she is lovely, an even temper of utmost 5 Beauty, that every charm stealeth of every fair.

Lx.x.xVII & LXXV.

Ne'er shall woman avouch herself so rightly beloved, Friend, as rightly thou art, Lesbia, lovely to me.

Ne'er was a bond so firm, no troth so faithfully plighted, Such as against our love's venture in honour am I.

Now so sadly my heart, dear Lesbia, draws me asunder, 5 So in her own misspent worship uneasily lost, Wert thou blameless in all, I may not longer approve thee, Do anything thou wilt, cannot an enemy be.

LXXVI.

If to a man bring joy past service dearly remember'd, When to the soul her thought speaks, to be blameless of ill; Faith not rudely profan'd, nor in oath or charter abused Heaven, a G.o.d's mis-sworn sanct.i.ty, deadly to men.

Then doth a life-long pleasure await thee surely, Catullus, 5 Pleasure of all this love's traitorous injury born.

Whatso a man may speak, whom charity leads to another, Whatso enact, by me spoken or acted is all.

Waste on a traitorous heart, nor finding kindly requital.

Therefore cease, nor still bleed agoniz'd any more. 10

Make thee as iron a soul, thyself draw back from affliction.

Yea, tho' a G.o.d say nay, be not unhappy for aye.

What? it is hard long love so lightly to leave in a moment?

Hard; yet abides this one duty, to do it: obey.

Here lies safety alone, one victory must not fail thee. 15 One last stake to be lost haply, perhaps to be won.

O great G.o.ds immortal, if you can pity or ever Lighted above dark death's shadow, a help to the lost; Ah! look, a wretch, on me; if white and blameless in all I Liv'd, then take this long canker of anguish away. 20 If to my inmost veins, like dull death drowsily creeping, Every delight, all heart's pleasure it wholly benumbs.

Not anymore I pray for a love so faulty returning, Not that a wanton abide chastely, she may not again.

Only for health I ask, a disease so deadly to banish. 25 G.o.ds vouchsafe it, as I ask, that am harmless of ill.

LXXVII.

Rufus, a friend so vainly believ'd, so wrongly relied in, (Vainly? alas the reward fail'd not, a heavier ill;) Could'st thou thus steal on me, a lurking viper, an aching Fire to the bones, nor leave aught to delight any more?

Nought to delight any more! ah cruel poison of equal 5 Lives! ah b.r.e.a.s.t.s that grew each to the other awhile!

Yet far most this grieves me, to think thy slaver abhorred Foully my own love's lips soileth, a purity rare.

Thou shalt surely atone thine injury: centuries harken, Know thee afar; grow old, fame, to declare him anew. 10

Lx.x.xVIII.

Gellius, how if a man in l.u.s.t with a mother, a sister Rioteth, one uncheck'd night, to iniquity bare?

How if a man's dark pa.s.sion an aunt's own chast.i.ty spare not?

Canst thou tell what vast infamy lieth on him?

Infamy lieth on him, no farthest Tethys, or ancient 5 Ocean, of hundred streams father, abolisheth yet.

Infamy none o'ersteps, nor ventures any beyond it.

Not tho' a scorpion heat melt him, his own paramour.

Lx.x.xIX.

Gellius--he's full meagre. It is no wonder, a friendly Mother, a sister is his loveable, healthy withal.

Then so friendly an uncle, a world of pretty relations.

Must not a man so blest meagre abide to the last?

Yea, let his hand touch only what hands touch only to trespa.s.s; 5 Reason enough to become meagre, enough to remain.

XC.

Rise from a mother's shame with Gellius hatefully wedded, One to be taught gross rites Persic, a Magian he.

Weds with a mother a son, so needs should a Magian issue, Save in her evil creed Persia determineth ill.

Then shall a son, so born, chant down high favour of heaven, 5 Melting lapt in flame fatly the slippery caul.

XCI.

Think not a hope so false rose, Gellius, in me to find thee Faithful in all this love's anguish ineffable yet, For that in heart I knew thee, had in thee honour imagin'd, Held thee a soul to abhor vileness or any reproach.

Only in her, I knew, thou found'st not a mother, a sister, 5 Her that awhile for love wearily made me to pine.

Yea tho' mutual use did bind us straitly together, Scarcely methought could lie cause to desert me therein.

Thou found'st reason enow; so joys thy spirit in every Shame, wherever is aught heinous, of infamy born. 10

XCII.

Lesbia doth but rail, rail ever upon me, nor endeth Ever. A life I stake, Lesbia loves me at heart.

Ask me a sign? Our score runs parallel. I that abuse her Ever, a life to the stake, Lesbia, love thee at heart.

XCIII.

Lightly methinks I reck if Caesar smile not upon me: Care not, whether a white, whether a swarth-skin, is he.

XCIV.

Mentula--wanton is he; his calling sure is a wanton's.

Herbs to the pot, 'tis said wisely, the name to the man.

XCV.

Nine times winter had end, nine times flush'd summer in harvest, Ere to the world gave forth Cinna, the labour of years, Zmyrna; but in one month Hortensius hundred on hundred Verses, an unripe birth feeble, of hurry begot.