X

      I was idling in the Forum when my friend Varus

      Saw me and led me off to the home of his lover,

      A little tart (as she immediately struck me),

      Though not obviously inelegant or lacking in charm.

      When we arrived here we got lost in conversation,

      One topic, then another, such as what Bithynia

      Was like today, and how it had gone,

      And how much profit it had made me.

      I told it as it was – it brought nothing for the natives

      Or the praetors or the cohort,

      Which was why no one’s head was any glossier –

      Particularly for those who had a fuckwit as a praetor,

      Who split not a hair over his entourage.

      ‘But surely,’ they said, ‘You procured litter-bearers there,

      Which they say are native to the region.’

      To make myself singularly more attractive to the girl

      I said, ‘Although it was a bad province

      Things did not go so badly for me

      That I could not obtain eight straight-backed boys.’

      (But in fact I had no one from here or there

      Who could lift even the broken foot of an old bed

      Onto his shoulders.) And she, as sluttier girls will, said,

      ‘Will you lend them to me a while, dear Catullus,

      I want to take a ride to Serapis.’

      ‘Wait,’ I told her,

      ‘What I said I had a moment ago …

      My mind flew – my friend,

      Gaius, Cinna – obtained them as his own.

      But what difference does it make if they’re mine or his?

      I use them as if I bought them myself,

      But you, you are so vulgar and meddlesome

      That I can’t be off my guard at all!’