Wottest thou how much he ventures of sacrilege-sin?Ventures he (0 Gellius!) what ne'er can ultimate TethysWash from his soul, nor yet Ocean, watery sire.For that of sin there's naught wherewith this sin can exceed he. . . . his head on himself.
ON GELLIUS.Gellius is lean: Why not? For him so easy a motherLives, and a sister so boon, bonny and buxom to boot,Uncle so kindly good and all things full of his lady-Cousins, how can he cease leanest of lankies to be?Albeit, touch he naught save that whose touch is a scandal,Soon shall thou find wherefor he be as lean as thou like.
ON GELLIUS.Born be a Magus, got by Gellius out of his mother(Marriage nefand!) who shall Persian augury learn.Needs it a Magus begot of son upon mother who bare him,If that impious faith, Persian religion be fact,So may their issue adore busy gods with recognised versesMelting in altar-flame fatness contained by the caul.
TO GELLIUS.Not for due cause I hoped to find thee (Gellius!) faithfulIn this saddest our love, love that is lost and forlore,Or fro' my wotting thee well or ever believing thee constant,Or that thy mind could reject villany ever so vile,But that because was she to thyself nor mother nor sister,This same damsel whose Love me in its greatness devoured.Yet though I had been joined wi' thee by amplest of usance,Still could I never believe this was sufficient of cause.Thou diddest deem it suffice: so great is thy pleasure in everyCrime wherein may be found somewhat enormous of guilt.
ON LESBIA.Lesbia naggeth at me evermore and ne'er is she silentTouching myself: May I die but that by Lesbia I'm loved.What be the proof? I rail and retort like her and revile herCarefully, yet may I die but that I love her with love.
ON JULIUS CAESAR.Study I not o'ermuch to please thee (Caesar!) and court thee,Nor do I care e'en to know an thou be white or be black.
AGAINST MENTULA (MAMURRA).Mentula wooeth much: much wooeth he, be assurèd.That is, e'en as they say, the Pot gathers leeks for the pot.
ON THE "ZMYRNA" OF THE POET CINNA."Zmyrna" begun erstwhile nine harvests past by my CinnaPublisht appears when now nine of his winters be gone;Thousands fifty of lines meanwhile Hortensius in single"Zmyrna" shall travel afar as the hollow breakers of Satrax,"Zmyrna" by ages grey lastingly shall be perused.But upon Padus' brink shall die Volusius his annalsAnd to the mackerel oft loose-fitting jacket afford.Dear to my heart are aye the lightest works of my comrade,Leave I the mob to enjoy tumidest Antimachus.
TO CALVUS ANENT DEAD QUINTILIA.If to the dumb deaf tomb can aught or grateful or pleasing(Calvus!) ever accrue rising from out of our dule,