MARTIALIS, EPIG. 14. LIB. 1.
When brave chaste Arria to her Pætus gave
The sword from her own breast did bleeding wave,
If there be faith, this wound smarts not, said she,
But what you'll make, ah, that will murder me.
MARTIALIS, EPIG. 43. LIB. 1.
When Portia her dear Lord's sad fate did hear,
And noble grief sought arms were hid from her,
Know you not yet no hinderance of death is,
Cato, I thought enough had taught you this;
So said, her thirsty lips drink flaming coals,
Go now, deny me steel, officious fools.
MARTIALIS, EPIG. 15. LIB. 6.
Whilst in an amber-shade the ant doth feast,
A gummy drop ensnares the small wild beast,
A full reward of all her toils hath she,
'Tis to be thought she would herself so die.
MARTIALIS, EPIG. 33. LIB. 4.
Both lurks and shines hid in an amber-tear,
The bee in her own nectar prisoner;
So she who in her lifetime was contemn'd,
Ev'n in her very funerals is gemm'd.
MARTIALIS, EPIG. 19. LIB. 8.
Pauper videri Cinna vult, et est pauper.
Cinna seems poor in show,
And he is so.
OUT OF THE ANTHOLOGIE.
Ἔσβεσε τὸν λύχνον μῶρα ψύλλων ἀπὸ πόλλων
ΔακνόμενΘ, λεξας, ἐκ ἔτί με βλέπετε.
A fool, much bit by fleas, put out the light,
You shall not see me now (quoth he), good night.
That no fair woman will, wonder not why
Clap (Rufus) under thine her tender thigh;
Not a silk gown shall once melt one of them,
Nor the delights of a transparent gem.
A scurvy story kills thee, which doth tell
That in thine armpits a fierce goat doth dwell.
Him they all fearful of an ugly stench,
Nor's 't fit he should lie with a handsome wench;
Wherefore this nose's cursed plague first crush,
Or cease to wonder why they fly you thus.
CATULLUS, EPIG. 71.
Female Inconstancy.
My mistress says she'll marry none but me,
No, not if Jove himself a suitor be:
She says so; but what women say to kind
Lovers, we write in rapid streams and wind,
AD LESBIAM. CATULLUS, epig. 73.
That me alone you lov'd, you once did say,
Nor should I to the king of gods give way,
Then I lov'd thee, not as a common dear,
But as a father doth his children cheer;
Now thee I know, more bitterly I smart,
Yet thou to me more light and cheaper art.
What pow'r is this? that such a wrong should press
Me to love more, yet wish thee well much lesse.
I hate and love, wouldst thou the reason know?
I know not, but I burn and feel it so.
By thy fault is my mind brought to that pass,
That it its office quite forgotten has;
For beest thou best, I cannot wish thee well,
And beest thou worst, yet must I love thee still.
Quintius, if you'll endear Catullus' eyes,
Or what he dearer than his eyes doth prize,
Ravish not what is dearer than his eyes,
Or what he dearer than his eyes doth prize.
DE QUINTIA Et lesbia, epig. 87.
Quintia is handsome, fair, tall, straight, all these
Very particulars I grant with ease:
But she all o'er 's not handsome; here's her fault
In all that bulk, there's not one corn of salt;
Whilst Lesbia, fair and handsome too all o'er,
All graces and all wit from all hath bore.
DE SUO IN LESBIAM AMORE, epig. 88.
No one can boast herself so much belov'd,
Truly as Lesbia my affections prov'd;
No faith was e'er with such a firm knot bound
As in my love on my part I have found.
AD SYLONEM, EPIG. 104.
Sylo, pray pay me my ten sesterces,
Then rant and roar as much as you shall please,
Or if that money takes, pray give o'er;
To be a pimp, or else to rant and roar.
THE MEMORY OF THE AUTHOR:
BY SEVERAL OF HIS FRIENDS.
Nunquam ego te vitâ frater amabilior
Adspiciam posthac; at certè semper amabo.
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