Chapter XXXVIII: A Complaint to Cornificius

Cornificius! 'Tis ill with thy Catullus,
'Tis ill (by Hercules) distressfully:
Iller and iller every day and hour.
Whose soul (as smallest boon and easiest)
With what of comfort hast thou deign'd console? 5
Wi' thee I'm angered! Dost so prize my love?
Yet some consoling utterance had been well
Though sadder 'twere than Simonídean tears.

'Tis ill, Cornificius, with thy Catullus, 'tis ill, by Hercules, and most untoward; and greater, greater ill, each day and hour! And thou, what solace givest thou, e'en the tiniest, the lightest, by thy words? I'm wroth with thee. Is my love but worth this? Yet one little message would cheer me, though more full of sadness than Simonidean tears.

XXXVIIII.

Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes,
Renidet usque quaque. sei ad rei ventumst
Subsellium, cum orator excitat fletum,
Renidet ille. sei ad pii rogum fili
Lugetur, orba cum flet unicum mater, 5
Renidet ille. quidquid est, ubicumquest,
Quodcumque agit, renidet. hunc habet morbum,
Neque elegantem, ut arbitror, neque urbanum.
Quare monendum test mihi, bone Egnati.
Si urbanus esses aut Sabinus aut Tiburs 10
Aut fartus Vmber aut obesus Etruscus
Aut Lanuinus ater atque dentatus
Aut Transpadanus, ut meos quoque attingam,
Aut quilubet, qui puriter lavit dentes,
Tamen renidere usque quaque te nollem: 15
Nam risu inepto res ineptior nullast.
Nunc Celtiber es: Celtiberia in terra,
Quod quisque minxit, hoc sibi solet mane
Dentem atque russam defricare gingivam,
Vt quo iste vester expolitior dens est, 20
Hoc te amplius bibisse praedicet loti.

XXXVIIII.

ON EGNATIUS OF THE WHITE TEETH.

Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,
Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wight
In dock, when pleader would draw tears, the while
He grins. When pious son at funeral pile
Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son, 5
He grins. Whate'er, whene'er, howe'er is done,
Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,
Nor kind, nor courteous--so beseemeth me--
Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!
Wert thou corrupt Sabine or a Tiburtine, 10
Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrown
Swarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,
Transpádan also, that mine own I touch,
Or any washing teeth to shine o'er much,
Yet thy incessant grin I would not see, 15
For naught than laughter silly sillier be.
Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,
Where man who's urined therewith loves a-morn
His teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;
So the more polisht are your teeth, the more 20
Argue they sipping stale in ampler store.

Egnatius, who has milk-white teeth, grins for ever and aye. An he be in court, when counsel excites tears, he grins. An he be at funeral pyre where one mourns a son devoted, where a bereft mother's tears stream for her only one, he grins. Whatever it may be, wherever he is, whate'er may happen, he grins. Such ill habit has he--neither in good taste, well assumed, nor refined. Wherefore do thou take note from me, my good Egnatius. Be thou refined Sabine or Tiburtine, paunch-full Umbrian or obese Tuscan, Lanuvian dusky and large-tusked, or Transpadine (to touch upon mine own folk also), or whom thou wilt of those who cleanly wash their teeth, still I'd wish thee not to grin for ever and aye; for than senseless giggling nothing is more senseless. Now thou'rt a Celtiberian! and in the Celtiberian land each wight who has urined is wont each morn to scrub with it his teeth and pinky gums, so that the higher the polish on thy teeth, the greater fund it notes that thou hast drunk of urine.

XXXX.

Quaenam te mala mens, miselle Ravide,
Agit praecipitem in meos iambos?
Quis deus tibi non bene advocatus
Vecordem parat excitare rixam?
An ut pervenias in ora vulgi? 5
Quid vis? qua lubet esse notus optas?
Eris, quandoquidem meos amores
Cum longa voluisti amare poena.

XXXX.

THREATENING RAVIDUS WHO STOLE HIS MISTRESS.

What thought of folly Rávidus (poor churl!)
Upon my iambs thus would headlong hurl?
What good or cunning counsellor would fain
Urge thee to struggle in such strife insane?
Is't that the vulgar mouth thy name by rote? 5
What will'st thou? Wishest on any wise such note?
Then _shalt_ be noted since my love so lief
For love thou sued'st to thy lasting grief.

What mind ill set, O sorry Ravidus, doth thrust thee rashly on to my iambics? What god, none advocate of good for thee, doth stir thee to a senseless contest? That thou may'st be in the people's mouth? What would'st thou? Dost wish to be famed, no matter in what way? So thou shalt be, since thou hast aspired to our loved one's love, but by our long-drawn vengeance.

XXXXI.

Ametina puella defututa
Tota milia me decem poposcit,
Ista turpiculo puella naso,
Decoctoris amica Formiani.
Propinqui, quibus est puella curae, 5
Amicos medicosque convocate:
Non est sana puella. nec rogate,
Qualis sit: solet esse imaginosa.

XXXXI.

ON MAMURRA'S MISTRESS.

That Ametina, worn-out whore,
Me for a myriad oft would bore,
That strumpet of th' ignoble nose,
To leman, rakehell Formian chose.
An ye would guard her (kinsmen folk) 5
Your friends and leaches d'ye convoke:
The girl's not sound-sens'd; ask ye naught
Of her complaint: she's love-distraught.

Ametina, out-drainèd maiden, worries me for a whole ten thousand, that damsel with an outspread nose, _chère amie_ of Formianus the wildling. Ye near of kin in whose care the maiden is, summon ye both friends and medicals: for the girl's not sane. Nor ask ye, in what way: she is subject to delusions.

XXXXII.

Adeste, hendecasyllabi, quot estis
Omnes undique, quotquot estis omnes.
Iocum 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.
Circumsistite eam, et reflagitate, 10
'Moecha putida, redde codicillos,
Redde, putida moecha, codicillos.'
Non assis 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.'

XXXXII.

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 whore!) our noting books.
Our noting books (O rotten whore!) 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 bitch-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.
Cry all together in a higher key
"Restore (O rotten whore!) our noting books,
Our noting books (O rotten whore!) 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 prostitute 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-Spawn, 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 bitch'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."

XXXXIII.

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?
Tecum Lesbia nostra conparatur?
O saeclum insapiens et infacetum!

XXXXIII.

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-hell. 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, _chère amie_ of Formianus the wildling. And thee the province declares to be lovely? With thee our Lesbia is to be compared? O generation witless and unmannerly!

XXXXIIII.

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, Sestianus dum volo esse conviva, 10
Orationem in Antium petitorem
Plenam veneni et pestilentiae legi.
Hic me gravido frigida et frequens tussis
Quassavit 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, cum malum librum legi.

XXXXIIII.

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 classed)
But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer 5
To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain
And fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd 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.

XXXXV.

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?

XXXXV.

ON ACME AND SEPTUMIUS.

To Acmé quoth Septumius who his fere
Held on his bosom--"Acmé, 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 Acmé 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 Acmé's love,
Of Syrias or either Britains high above,
Acmé 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?

XXXXVI.

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

XXXXVI.

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.
Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leas
And summery Nicæa's fertile downs: 5
Fly we to Asia's fame-illumined towns.
Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long,
Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong.
O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng,
Ye who together far from homesteads flying, 10
By many various ways come homewards hieing.

Now springtide brings back its mild and tepid airs, now the heaven's fury equinoctial is calmed by Zephyr's benign breath. The Phrygian meadows are left behind, O Catullus, and the teeming fields of sun-scorched Nicaea: to the glorious Asian cities let us haste. Now my palpitating soul craves wander, now my feet grow vigorous with glad zeal. O charming circlet of comrades, fare ye well, who are together met from distant homes to which divers sundered ways lead back.

XXXXVII.

Porci et Socration, duae sinistrae
Pisonis, scabies famesque mundi
Vos Veraniolo meo et Fabullo
Verpus praeposuit Priapus ille?
Vos convivia lauta sumptuose 5
De die facitis? mei sodales
Quaerunt in trivio vocationes?

XXXXVII.

TO PORCIUS AND SOCRATION.

Porcius and Socration, pair sinister
Of Piso, scabs and starvelings of the world,
You to Fabúllus and my Verianólus,
Hath dared yon snipt Priapus to prefer?
Upon rich banquets sumptuously spread 5
Still gorge you daily while my comrades must
Go seek invitals where the three roads fork?

Porcius and Socration, twins in rascality of Piso, scurf and famisht of the earth, you before my Veraniolus and Fabullus has that prepuce-lacking Priapus placed? Shall you betimes each day in luxurious opulence banquet? And must my cronies quest for dinner invitations, [lounging] where the three cross-roads meet?

XXXXVIII.

Mellitos oculos tuos, Iuventi,
Siquis me sinat usque basiare,
Vsque ad milia basiem trecenta,
Nec umquam videar satur futurus,
Non si densior aridis aristis 5
Sit nostrae seges osculationis.

XXXXVIII.

TO JUVENTIUS.

Those honied eyes of thine (Juventius!)
If any suffer me sans stint to buss,
I'd kiss of kisses hundred thousands three,
Nor ever deem I'd reach satiety,
Not albe denser than dried wheat-ears show 5
The kissing harvests our embraces grow.

Thine honey-sweet eyes, O Juventius, had I the leave to kiss for aye, for aye I'd kiss e'en to three hundred thousand kisses, nor ever should I reach to future plenity, not even if thicker than dried wheat sheaves be the harvest of our kisses.

XXXXVIIII.

Disertissime Romuli nepotum,
Quot sunt quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,
Quotque post aliis erunt in annis,
Gratias tibi maximas Catullus
Agit pessimus omnium poeta, 5
Tanto pessimus omnium poeta
Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.

XXXXVIIII.

TO MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO.

Most eloquent 'mid race of Romulus
That is or ever was (Marc Tullius!)
Or in the coming years the light shall see,
His thanks, the warmest, offers unto thee
Catullus, poet sorriest that be, 5
And by such measure poet sorriest,
As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.

Most eloquent of Romulus' descendancy, who are, who have been, O Marcus Tullius, and who shall later be in after time, to thee doth give his greatest gratitude Catullus, pettiest of all the poets,--and so much pettiest of all the poets as thou art peerless 'mongst all pleaders.

L.

Hesterno, Licini, die otiosi
Multum lusimus in meis tabellis,
Vt convenerat esse delicatos.
Scribens versiculos uterque nostrum
Ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc, 5
Reddens mutua per iocum atque vinum.
Atque illinc abii tuo lepore
Incensus, Licini, facetiisque,
Vt nec me miserum cibus iuvaret,
Nec somnus tegeret quiete ocellos, 10
Sed toto indomitus furore lecto
Versarer cupiens videre lucem,
Vt tecum loquerer, simulque ut essem.
At defessa labore membra postquam
Semimortua lectulo iacebant, 15
Hoc, iocunde, tibi poema feci,
Ex quo perspiceres meum dolorem.
Nunc audax cave sis, precesque nostras,
Oramus, cave despuas, ocelle,
Ne poenas Nemesis reposcat a te. 20
Est vemens dea: laedere hanc caveto.