h scorpion I, with emblem all your haunt will scrawl. 10

2.

For she the bright one, lately fled beyond these arms,
The maid belov'd as maiden is belov'd no more,
Whom I to win, stood often in the breach, fought long,

Has sat amongst you. Her the grand, the great, all, all
Do dearly love her; yea, beshrew the damned wrong, 15
Each slight seducer, every lounger highway-born,

You chiefly, peerless paragon of the tribe long-lock'd,
Rude Celtiberia's child, the bushy rabbit-den,

Egnatius, so modish in the big bush-beard,
And teeth a native lotion hardly scours quite pure. 20

XXXVIII.

Cornificius, ill is your Catullus,
Ill, ah heaven, a weary weight of anguish,
More more weary with every day, with each hour.

You deny me the least, the very lightest
Help, one whisper of happy thought to cheer me. 5

Nay, I'm sorrowful. You to slight my passion?
Ah! one word, but a tiny word to cheer me,
Sad as ever a tear Simonidean.

XXXIX.

1.

Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth,
Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in view
Where stands a pleader just prepar'd to rouse our tears,

Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn
Where weeps a mother o'er the lost, the kind one son, 5
Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or place

Or thing soe'er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaint
Is his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.

2.

So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred
Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine, 10
A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,

A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth'd,
A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax'd,
In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,

Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not, 15
For silly laughter, it's a silly thing indeed.

3.

Well: you're a Celtiberian; in the parts thereby
What pass'd the night in water, every man, come dawn,
Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;

So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine, 20
So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.

XL.

What fatality, what chimera drives thee
Headlon