CARMEN XXIII. TO FURIUS.

You Furius who nothing have got in your house
Neither coffer nor slave, not a bug or a louse,
Not a spider or fire, but a father alone,

With his partner whose teeth could demolish a stone,
With him as companion, how charming your life,
With him, and that dried piece of timber his wife.
Indeed it's no wonder, there can be no question,
That your health's very good, and so's your digestion.
You have no dread of ruin, of arson no fears,
Nor of horrible crimes such as poisonous snares,

All terror of danger you're able to scorn

For you've bodies more dry than the driest of horn,
Hardened through by the sun, and by cold and starvation,
Of course you are happy, you've no perspiration,
No colds and no sneezing, your functions are good,
Your stomach ne'er suffers from plethora of food.
So don't let these blessings seem small in your eyes
Nor all those advantages think to despise.
And for those hundred sesterces care not to pray
As your wont is, you're happy enough in your way.

CARMEN XXIV. TO JUVENTIUS.

The tender flower most fair to see
Of all thy race that e'er will be,

Or now are or have been, thou art,
Why would'st thou throw away thy heart?
"Twere better all my paltry pelf

To give to him, but not thyself
For he has neither slave nor coffer,
Nothing in fact has he to offer;

But what a handsome face he's got!
You'll say, well, I deny it not,
About his beauty you may rave,
But where's his coffer or his slave?
You may despise the words I proffer,
Still he has neither slave nor coffer.

CARMEN XXV. TO THALLUS.

Voluptuous Thallus, you who softer far

Than down of goose or fur of rabbit are
Or than a spider's web or tip of ear,

Yet more rapacious do to me appear

Than a wild storm blast, when like gulls in shape You're shown your hapless victims all agape.

Send back my Thynian tablets which you took,

My Spanish napkin and my stolen cloak.

Which you,
As though as heirlooms they had come to you.
From thievish nails unglue them, and restore
These things to me, lest the sharp whip should score
Disgraceful marks upon your smooth-skinned back
And tender flanks, and you the torture rack,
Till in unwonted pain you toss and rave,

vain fool, show plainly to men's view

Like tiny bark upon the boiling wave.

CARMEN XXVI. TO FURIUS.

My villa, Furius, is not set

'Gainst the south-western air,

Nor 'gainst the north, nor east, nor yet

Against the zephyr fair.

But 'gainst a bond in legal form

My villa's set, ah me!

That needs must a most fatal storm

A wind unhealthy be!

CARMEN XXVII. TO HIS CUP BEARER.

Boy, thou minister of pleasure,
With the old Falernian draught,

Fill me up a stronger measure
Stronger than was ever quaffed.
Postuma our mistress fair

Who's as drunk as any seed
Which the purple grape doth bear

So commands, and we must heed.
Water, thou of wine the bane

Go where'er it pleases thee,

Hence, and join the sober train,

Pure our Bacchic draught shall be.

CARMEN XXVIII. TO VERANNIUS AND FABULLUS.

Companions of Piso, a suite empty-handed,

With that screw of a prætor unhappily banded,

You've not had enough then of cold and starvation ;—

The baggage you carry to my observation

Looks handy but light; come, my friends, don't refuse, Verannius, Fabullus, come tell me the news,

How much of your profit is entered as spent?

You've had my bad fortune, for when I was sent

With my prætor, my money and I were soon parted,
And I came back alas! much worse off than I started.
O Memmius, you treated me finely, you brute,
And you, my friends, seem to have quite followed suit,
For with no less a rascal you've now had to do;
Seek to know noble friends after this! and may you
Be by all gods and goddesses plagued, the disgrace
Of Remus' and Romulus' once noble race.

CARMEN XXIX. -ON CÆSAR.

Who can see this, or who can bear

That it should be Mamurra's share

To have what long-haired Gaul can give,

Or the far land where Britons live,
Unless indeed a glutton he,

Gambler or shameless wretch should be!
Lascivious Romulus, dost thou,

Behold all this with tranquil brow?

A glutton and a gambler, too, thou art,
A shameless villain, reprobate at heart.

And shall that wretch with haughty gait,

Exulting in his lofty state,

Around our marriage couches rove

Like some Adonis, or the dove