Gratian.—More attractive metal.
Curate.—Not at all attractive; for there is considerable difficulty, and as I suppose a corrupted text, before we reach six lines. Here I let the bird loose.
Sparrow, minion of my dear,
Little animated toy,
Whom the fair delights to bear
In her bosom lapt in joy.
Whom she teases and displeases,
With her white forefinger’s end,
Thus inviting savage biting
From her tiny feather’d friend.
Image burning of my yearning,
When at fondness she would play;
Thus she takes her aught that makes her
Pensive moments glide away.
’Tis a balm for her soft sorrow,
Tranquillising beauty’s breast;
Would I might her plaything borrow,
So to lull my cares to rest.
I would prize it, as the maiden
Prized the golden apple thrown,
Which displacing her in racing,
Loosed at last her virgin zone.
Aquilius.—Here lies the difficulty:
“Quum desiderio meo nitenti
Carum nescio quid lubet jocari,
(Ut solatiolum sui doloris
Credunt, quum gravis acquiescet ardor.”)
Another edition has it:
“Credo ut gravis acquiescat ardor.”
Gratian.—Leave it to Œdipus—make sense of it, and we must not be too nice.
Aquilius.—Well, then, it possibly means, that she passes off the pain of the bite with a little coquetry and action, as we move about a limb pretty briskly when it tingles.
Gratian.—O, the cunning—argumentum ad hominem.