<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng4:11.1-12.1</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng4:11.1-12.1</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text><body><div type="translation" n="urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng4" xml:lang="eng"><div n="11" type="textpart" subtype="textpart"><div n="1" type="textpart" subtype="card"><p>Furius and Aurelius, comrades of Catullus, whether he forces his way to furthest
                        <placeName key="tgn,7000198">India</placeName> where the shore is lashed by
                    the far-echoing waves of the Dawn, or whether to the land of the Hyrcanians or
                    soft Arabs, or whether to the land of the Sacians or quiver-bearing Parthians,
                    or where the seven-mouthed <placeName key="tgn,1127805">Nile</placeName> colors
                    the sea, or whether he traverses the lofty <placeName key="tgn,2066659">Alps</placeName>, gazing at the monuments of mighty Caesar, the Gallic
                    Rhine, the shuddering water and remotest Britons, prepared to attempt all these
                    things at once, whatever the will of the heavenly gods may
                    bear,—repeat to my girl a few words, though they are not at all good.
                    May she live and flourish with her fornicators, and may she hold three hundred
                    at once in her embrace, loving not one in truth, but bursting again and again
                    the guts of all: nor may she look back upon my love as before, which by her
                    lapse has fallen, just as a flower on the meadow's edge, after the touch of the
                    passing plough.</p></div></div><div n="12" type="textpart" subtype="textpart"><div n="1" type="textpart" subtype="card"><p>Marrucinius Asinius, you do not use your left hand nicely amid the jests and
                    wine: you make off with the napkins of the careless. Do you think this is witty?
                    It escapes you, fool, how coarse a thing and unbecoming it is! Don't you believe
                    me? Believe your brother Pollio who would willingly give a talent to divert you
                    from your thefts: for he is a lad skilled in pleasantries and clever talk.
                    Therefore, either expect three hundred hendecasyllables, or return me my napkin
                    which I esteem, not for its value but as a pledge of remembrance from my
                    comrade. For Fabullus and Veranius sent me napkins as a gift from Iberian
                    Saetabis; these I must love even as I do Veraniolus and Fabullus.</p></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>