TO MARRUCINUS ASINIUS. 12. ARRUCINUS ASINIUS, you ply your left hand In a fashion that gentlemen don't understand; Their napkins you steal, when the rest of the guests Are intent on the flow of the wine and the jests. You fancy this fun? Why, you goose, don't That this sort of thing is unseemly and low? You think, I'm no judge? But that you'll scarce say Of Pollio, your brother, a talent who'd pay, Yourself of these pilfering habits to free, you know For who knows so well, what is true fun, as he? So I give you your choice. Send my napkin, and soon, INVITATION TO DINNER. 13. OU dine with me, Fabullus mine, If you bring with you, when you come, And lots of wine and mirth, and some 'Tis if you bring these-mark me now! Has nothing in't but long-legg'd spinners. But if you don't, you'll have to fast On simple welcome and thin air; And, as a sauce to your repast, I'll treat you to a perfume rare— A perfume so divine, 'tis odds, When you have smelt its fragrance, whether You won't devoutly pray the gods To make you straight all nose together! TO CALVUS. 14. HEE did I not more dearly prize, For sending what thou didst of late? With such a mass of maudlin verse? Gods! what a book! and this you send To your Catullus, to your friend, His comfort wholly to undo, Upon the Saturnalia, too, Of all our holidays the day, One most relies on to be gay. A harmless jest, you say? But no, And gathering into one vile hash Rank poison all, indited by With these I'll quit you, throe for throe, But you, ye wretched sons of rhyme, The plagues and vermin of the time, Hence to that grim infernal haunt, From which ye sprang! Hence, hence, avaunt! |