XIII.

FABULLUS IS INVITED TO A POET'S SUPPER.

Thou'lt sup right well with me, Fabúllus mine, In days few-numbered an the Gods design, An great and goodly meal thou bring wi' thee Nowise forgetting damsel bright o' blee, With wine, and salty wit and laughs all-gay. 5 An these my bonny man, thou bring, I say Thou'lt sup right well, for thy Catullus' purse Save web of spider nothing does imburse. But thou in countergift mere loves shalt take Or aught of sweeter taste or fairer make: 10 I'll give thee unguent lent my girl to scent By every Venus and all Cupids sent, Which, as thou savour, pray Gods interpose And thee, Fabúllus, make a Naught-but-nose.

Thou shalt feast well with me, my Fabullus, in a few days, if the gods favour thee, provided thou dost bear hither with thee a good and great feast, not forgetting a fair damsel and wine and wit and all kinds of laughter. Provided, I say, thou dost bear hither these, our charming one, thou wilt feast well: for thy Catullus' purse is brimful of cobwebs. But in return thou may'st receive a perfect love, or whatever is sweeter or more elegant: for I will give thee an unguent which the Loves and Cupids gave unto my girl, which when thou dost smell it, thou wilt entreat the gods to make thee, O Fabullus, one total Nose!