History of Roman Literature from its Earliest Period to the Augustan - Volume I Part 22
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Volume I Part 22

"At nescio quis Pulicia.n.u.s," &c.

and Muretus expresses his astonishment, that the most grave and learned Benedictus Lampridius should have made this happy interpretation by Politian the theme of his _constant_ conversation, "Hanc Politiani sententiam in _omni_ sermone approbare solitum fuisse(472)." Why Lesbia preferred a sparrow to other birds, I know not, unless it was for those qualities which induced the widow of the Emperor Sigismond to esteem it more than the turtle-dove(473), and which so much excited the envy of the learned Scioppius, at Ingolstadt.

3. _Luctus in morte Pa.s.seris_. A lamentation for the death of the same sparrow-

"Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum, Illuc unde negant redire quemquam: At vobis male sit, malae tenebrae Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis."

The idea in this last line was probably taken from Bion's celebrated _Idyllium_-the lamentation of Venus for the death of Adonis, where there is a similar complaint of the unrelenting Orcus-

"?? de pa? ?a??? ?? se ?ata??e?."

This poem on the death of Lesbia's sparrow has suggested many similar productions. Ovid's elegy, _In Mortem Psittaci_(474), where he extols and laments the favourite parrot of his mistress, Corinna, is a production of the same description; but it has not so much delicacy, lightness, and felicity of expression. It differs from it too, by directing the attention chiefly to the parrot, whereas Catullus fixes it more on the lady, who had been deprived of her favourite. Statius also has a poem on the death of a parrot, ent.i.tled _Psittacus Melioris_(475); and Lotichius, a celebrated Latin poet, who flourished in Germany about the middle of the 16th century, has, in his elegies, a similar production on the death of a dolphin(476). Naugerius, _In Obitum Borgetti Catuli_, nearly copies the poem of Catullus-

"Nunc raptus rapido maloque fato, Ad manes abiit tenebricosas," &c.

It has been imitated closely, and with application to a sparrow, by Corrozet, Durant, and Monnoye, French poets of the 16th century-by Gacon and Richer, in the beginning, and R. de Juvigny, in the end, of the 18th century. In all these imitations, the idea of a departure to regions of darkness, whence no one returns, is faithfully preserved. Most of them are written with much grace and elegance; and this, indeed, is a sort of poetry in which the French remarkably excel.

4. _Dedicatio Phaseli_. This is the consecration to Castor and Pollux, of the vessel which brought the poet safe from Bithynia to the sh.o.r.es of Italy. By a figure, daring even in verse, he represents the ship as extolling its high services, and claiming its well-earned dedication to Castor and Pollux, G.o.ds propitious to mariners. From this poem we may trace the progress of Catullus's voyage: It would appear that he had embarked from Pontus, and having coasted Thrace, sailed through the Archipelago, and then into the Adriatic, whence the vessel had been brought probably up the course of the Po, and one of its branches, to the vicinity of Sirmio.

There have been nearly as many parodies of this poem, as imitations of that last mentioned. The collector of the _Catalecta Virgilii_, has attributed to Virgil a satire on Ventidius, (under the name of Sabinus,) who, from a muleteer, became consul, in the reign of Augustus, and which is parodied from Catullus-

"Sabinus ille quem videtis hospites," &c.

Another parody is a Latin poem, ent.i.tled _Lycoris_, by Adrien Valois, published at the end of the _Valesiana_, where a courtezan, retired from the world, is introduced, boasting of the various intrigues of her former life. Nicol Heinelius published not less than fifty parodies of this poem, in a small book ent.i.tled "Phaselus Catulli, et ad eundem Parodiarum a diversis auctoribus scriptarum decades quinque; ex Bibliotheca Nic.

Heinelii, Jurisconsulti, Lips. 1642." Scaliger has also translated the _Phaselus_ of Catullus into Greek iambics.

5. _Ad Lesbiam_-

"Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus, Rumoresque senum severiorum Omnes unius aestimemus a.s.sis.

Soles occidere et redire possunt: n.o.bis, c.u.m semel occidit brevis lux, Nox est perpetua una dormienda.

Da mihi basia mille, deinde centum."

This sentiment, representing either the pleasure of conviviality, or delights of love, (and much more so as when here united,) in contrast with the gloom of death, possesses something exquisitely tender and affecting.

The picture of joy, with Death in the distance, inspires a feeling of pensive morality, adding a charm to the gayest scenes of life, as the transientness of the rose enhances our sense of its beauty and fragrance; and as the cloud, which throws a shade over the horizon, sometimes softens and mellows the prospect. This opposition of images succeeds even in painting; and the Arcadian landscape of Poussin, representing the rural festivity of swains, would lose much of its charm if it wanted the monument and inscription. An example had been set of such contrasted ideas in many epigrams of the Greeks, and also in the Odes of Anacreon, who constantly excites himself and fellow-pa.s.sengers to unrestrained enjoyment at every stage, by recalling to remembrance the irresistible speed with which they are hurried to the conclusion of their journey-

"? d' ????, ??t??a d?sa?

?pe? a??e??? pap???, ?e?? ?? d?????e?t?.

?????? a?at?? ?a? ??a ???t?? t?e?e? ????s?e??.

????? de ?e?s?es?a ?????, ?ste?? ???e?t??."

Od. IV.

"The unG.o.dly," says the _Wisdom of Solomon_, "reason with themselves, but not aright. Our life is short-our time is a very shadow that pa.s.seth away-and, after our end, there is no returning. Come on, therefore, let us enjoy the good things that are present, and let us speedily use the creatures like as in youth. Let us fill ourselves with costly wine and ointments, and let no flower of the spring pa.s.s by us; let us crown ourselves with rose-buds, before they be withered. Let none of us go without his part of our voluptuousness; let us leave tokens of our joyfulness in every place: For this is our portion, and our lot in this(477)."

Among the Latin poets no specimen, perhaps, exists so perfect of this voluptuous yet pensive morality or immorality, as the _Vivamus, mea Lesbia_, of Catullus. It is a theme, too, in which he has been frequently followed, if not imitated, by succeeding poets-by Horace, in particular, who, amid all the delights of love and wine, seldom allows himself to forget the closing scene of existence. Many of them too, like Catullus, have employed the argument of the certainty and speediness of death for the promotion of love and pleasure-

"Interea, dum fata sinunt, jungamus amores; Jam veniet tenebris Mors adoperta caput(478)."

And, in like manner, Propertius-

"Dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus amore; Nox tibi longa venit nec reditura dies."

There is not much of this in the amatory or convivial poetry of the moderns. Waller has some traces of it; but a modern prose writer hath most beautifully, and with greater boldness than any of his predecessors, represented not merely the thoughts, but the actual image of mortality and decay, as exciting to a more full and rapid grasp at tangible enjoyments.

Anastasius, while journeying amid the tombs of Scutari, breathing the damp deadly effluvia, and treading on a swelling soil, ready to burst with its festering contents, asks himself,-"Shall I, creature of clay like those here buried-I, who travel through life as I do on this road, with the remains of past generations strewed around me-I, who, whether my journey last a few hours, more or less, must still, like those here deposited, in a short time rejoin the silent tenants of a cl.u.s.ter of tombs-be stretched out by the side of some already sleeping corpse-and be left to rest, for the remainder of time, with all my hopes and fears, all my faculties and prospects, consigned to a cold couch of clammy earth-Shall I leave the rose to blush along my path unheeded-the purple grape to wither unculled over my head * * *? Far from my thoughts be such folly! Whatever tempts, let me take-whatever bears the name of enjoyment henceforth, let me, while I can, make my own(479)."-The French writers, like Chaulieu and Gresset, who paint themselves as finding in philosophy and the Muses sufficient compensation for the dissatisfaction attending worldly pleasures, frequently urge the shortness of life, not as an argument for indulging in wantonness or wine, but for enjoying, to the utmost, the innocent delights of rural tranquillity-

"Fontenay, lieu delicieux, Ou je vis d'abord la lumiere, Bientot au bout de ma carriere Chez toi je joindrai mes ayeux.

"Muses, qui dans ce lieu champetre Avec soin me fites nourrir- Beaux arbres qui m'avez vu naitre Bientot vous me verrez mourir:

"Cependant du frais de votre ombre Il faut sagement profiter, Sans regret pret a vous quitter Pour ce Manoir terrible et sombre."-_Chaulieu._

The united sentiment of enjoying the delights of love, and beauties of nature, as suggested by the shortness of the period allotted for their possession, has been happily expressed by Mallet, in his celebrated song to the Scotch tune, _The Birks of Invermay_:

"Let us, Amanda, timely wise, Like _them_ improve the hour that flies; For soon the winter of the year, And Age, life's winter, will appear.

At this thy living bloom must fade, As that will strip the verdant shade: Our taste of pleasure then is o'er- The feathered songsters love no more: And when they droop, and we decay, Adieu, the shades of Invermay!"

It will not fail, however, to be remarked, that in the ode of Catullus, which has recalled these verses to our recollection, there is a double contrast, from comparing the long, dark, and everlasting sleep-the a????, ate???a, ????et?? ?p???, with the quick and constant succession of suns, by which we are daily enlightened-

"Soles occidere et redire possunt: n.o.bis, c.u.m semel occidit brevis lux, Nox est perpetua una dormienda."

Poets, in all ages, have been fond of contrasting the destined course of human life with the reparation of the sun and moon, and with the revival of nature, produced by the succession of seasons. The image drawn from the sun, and here employed by Catullus, is one of the most natural and frequent. It has been beautifully attempted by several modern Latin poets.

Thus by Lotichius-

"Ergo ubi permensus clum sol occidit, idem Purpureo vest.i.t lumine rursus humum: Nos ubi decidimus, defuncti munere vitae, Urget perpetua lumina nocte sopor."

And still more successfully by Jortin-

"Hei mihi lege rata sol occidit atque resurgit.

Nos domini rerum-nos magna et pulchra minati, c.u.m breve ver vitae robustaque transiit aetas, Deficimus; neque nos ordo revolubilis auras Reddit in aetherias, tumuli nec claustra resolvit."

Other modern Latin poets have chosen this ode as a sort of theme or text, which they have dilated into long poems. Of these, perhaps the most agreeable is a youthful production of Muretus-

"Ludamus, mea Margari, et jocemur," &c.

The most ancient French imitator is the old poet Baif, in a sort of Madrigal. He was followed by Ronsard, Bellay, Pellisson, La Monnoye, and Dorat. The best imitation, I think, is that by Simon, which I shall give at full length, once for all as a fair specimen of the French mode of imitating the lighter poems of Catullus-

"Vivens, O ma Julie!

Jurons d'aimer toujours: Le printemps de la vie Est fait pour les amours.

Si l'austere vieillesse Cond.a.m.ne nos desirs, Laissons lui sa sagesse, Et gardons nos plaisirs.

"L'Astre dont la lumiere Nous dispense les jours, Au bout de sa carriere Recommence son cours.

Quand le temps, dans sa rage, A fletti les appas, Les roses du bel age Ne refleurissent pas.

"D'une pudeur farouche Fuis les deguis.e.m.e.ns; Viens donner a ma bouche Cent baisers ravissans- Mille autres-Pose encore Sur mes levres de feu Tes levres que j'adore- Mourons a ce doux jeu.

"De nos baisers sans nombre Le feu rapide et doux S'echappe comme l'ombre, Et pa.s.se loin de nous: Mais le sentiment tendre D'un heureux souvenir, Dans mon cur vient reprendre, La place du plaisir."

7. _Ad Lesbiam_. His mistress had asked Catullus how many kisses would satisfy him, and he answers that they must be as numerous as the sands of the sea-