LXXVIII.
Brothers twain has Gallus, of whom one owns a delightful
Son; his brother a fair lady, delightfuller yet.
Gallant sure is Gallus, a pair so dainty uniting;
Lovely the lady, the lad lovely, a company sweet.
5 Foolish sure is Gallus, an o'er-incurious husband;
Uncle, a wife once taught luxury, stops not at one.
LXXIX.
Lesbius, handsome is he. Why not? if Lesbia loves him
Far above all your tribe, angry Catullus, or you.
Only let all your tribe sell off, and follow, Catullus,
Kiss but his handsome lips children, a plenary three.
LXXXI.
What? not in all this city, Juventius, ever a gallant
Poorly to win love's fresh favour of amorous you,
Only the lack-love signor, a wretch from sickly Pisaurum,
Guest of your hearth, no gilt statue as ashy as he?
5 Now your very delight, whose faithless fancy Catullus
Banisheth, Ah light-reck'd lightness, apostasy vile!
LXXXII.
Wouldst thou, Quintius, have me a debtor ready to owe thee
Eyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes?
One thing take not from me, to me more goodly than even
Eyes, or if earth have joy goodlier any than eyes.