I told you Gratian, worthy veracious Gratian, had hastened away to an
Agricultural meeting, to vindicate the character of his Belgian carrots.
This vindication inundated us for some days with agricultural visitors.
And Gratian was proud, and, like Virgil, "tossed about the dung with
dignity." We saw little of him, and when he did appear, "his talk was of
bullocks;" so how could he "have understanding," at least for Catullus?
Had not a neighbouring fair taken off the agriculturists after a few
days, his ideas, like his stick, would have become porcine. He rode his
hobby, and at a brisk pace; and, when a little tired of him, stabled him
and littered him, and seemed glad of a little quiet and leg-tapping in
his easy-chair. He had worked off the lessened excitement by an
evening's nap, and awoke recruited; and, with a pleasant smile, asked
the Curate if he had had recently any communication with his friend
Catullus.
CURATE.--We left him, I believe, in the very glory of kissing--his
insatiable glory. He now comes to a check--Lesbia is weary, if he is
not.
AQUILIUS.--It is a mere lovers' quarrel, and is only the prelude to more
folly, like the blank green baize curtain, between the play and the
farce. He affects anger--a thin disguise: he would give worlds to "kiss
and be friends again." His vexation is evident.
GRATIAN.--Ah! it is an old story--and not the worse for that--come, Mr
Curate, show up Catullus in his true motley. He was privileged at his
age to play the fool--so are we all at one time or another, if we do it
not too wisely. A wise fool is the only Asinine.--Now for Catullus's
folly.