Classic Poem

As from the forum, t'other day,
I chanc'd in idle mood to stray
With Varus; nothing else would do,
But to his mistress we must go;
A wench, who, at a glance, methought,
Was neither ugly, or untaught.
On various things, of this and that,
We first indifferently chat;
And then she begg'd me to relate
What was Bithynia's present state,
What was its worth, and what my share
Of profit from employment there.
I said that (which was truth most plain)
Nor I, nor Prætors, nor our train,
Had scrap'd so much, that there was need
Of unguents for a single head:
For, where the chief to a degree
Was worthless, and a debauchee,
His retinue would be forgot,
Nor ever gain a single jot.
“Yet sure” cries she “for I have heard,
“'Twas there the custom first appear'd,
“Of sturdy knaves you got, no doubt,
“Plenty to bear your couch about.”
I answer'd: that the slut, I own,
Might take me for a lucky one:
“However mean the province be,
“Fortune at least was kind to me:
“Eight men, as straight as they were tall,
“Attended daily at my call.”
Tho' not a shoulder, by the by,
For my old crippled couch had I.
Then with a harlot's usual cant,
Quick she return'd this saucy taunt:
“My dear Catullus, prithee, tell us;
“Couldst thou not lend me these same fellows?
“I have a word or two to say
“At Serapis's fane, to-day.”
“Hold, child!” cries I, “I had forgot,
“And prattled of I knew not what:
“These fellows to my friend belong,
“To Caius Cinna; I was wrong:
“Think them not mine, I do beseech;
“It was my colleague purchas'd each:
“But whether his, or mine; what then?
“I use, as if I'd bought the men——
“Ah, you're a sharp one; and, I swear,
“Who talks with you must talk with care!”