Carmina

I stole from you, while you were playing, honeyed Juventius, a kiss sweeter than sweet ambrosia. But I bore it off not unpunished; for more than an hour I remember I was nailed to the top of a cross, while I purged myself [for my crime] to you, nor could any tears in the least remove your cruelty. For as soon as it was done, you washed your lips with many drops, and wiped them off with every finger, lest anything contracted from our mouth remain, as though it were the filthy spittle of a piss-wet whore. Besides, you have handed wretched me over to spiteful Love, nor have you ceased to torture me in every way, so that for me that kiss is now changed from ambrosia to be harsher than harsh hellebore. Since you award such punishment to wretched lover, never more after this will I steal kisses.

Caelius and Quintius, the flower of the Veronese youth, madly in love with Aufilenus, madly in love with Aufilena—the one with the brother; the other with the sister. This is, as one would say, true brotherhood and sweet friendship. To whom shall I incline the more? Caelius, to you; for your single devotion to us was shown by its deeds, when the raging flame scorched my marrow. Be happy, Caelius, be potent in love.

Through many nations and through many seas borne, I come, brother, for these sad funeral rites, that I may give the last gifts to the dead, and may vainly speak to your silent ashes, since fortune has taken yourself away from me. Ah, poor brother, undeservedly snatched from me. But now receive these gifts, which have been handed down in the ancient manner of ancestors, the sad gifts to the grave, drenched with a brother's tears, and for ever, brother, hail and farewell.

If anything was entrusted in a pledge of silence by a friend whose inmost loyalty of spirit is known, you will find that I am one of those rightfully devoted, Cornelius, and think that I have become a Harpocrates.