And I again shall fold thee to my breast!
Oh, you who deem yourselves most blest of men,
Which of you all like unto me is blest?"
It is hard to conceive a truer or heartier welcome home; but, as a sample of our poet's lighter and more satiric vein, should be read alongside of it his lines to the two adventurers on their joint return, replete with kind inquiries for their pocket-linings. Catullus has a suspicion how things have gone:—
What cheer? what cheer? Has all gone right?"
He goes on to surmise that they have disbursed considerably more than they netted; and branches off into some not unnatural radicalism about the folly of "courting noble friends," and the desirability of putting no trust in patrons. By this time, he had himself made trial of Memmius—for he does not scruple to classify that self-seeking prætor with the broken reed on whom his friends had depended; and, in the close of the poem we quote, he speaks plainly:—
You placed me in an evil plight!
And you, my friends, for aught I see,
Have suffered very much like me;
For knave as Memmius was, I fear
That he in Piso had his peer."—(C. xxviii.)
There are several unattached pieces of Catullus, which we might assign to a date prior to his Bithynian
