As the mule leaves his shoe in the glutinous clay."
(C. xvii.)
But it is to a period between this and the journey to Bithynia that we refer at least some of his livelier trifles, written to friends, or against foes and rivals; such as the banter of Flavius, whose bachelor lodgings he suspects could tell a tale to explain the rich-distilled perfumes filling the room; the invitation to Tibullus to come and dine, and bring with him not only his chère amie, but also the dinner and wine—in fact, all but the unguents. The excuse for this quaint mode of entertaining is one which gives what colour there is to the theory that the poet's tour abroad was to recruit his fortune. He writes—
If you're to find yourself in clover,
For your Catullus' purse just now
With spiders' webs is running over."
This apportionment of a picnic entertainment was just the reverse, it seems, of one to which Horace (Odes, B. iv. 12) invited a certain Virgil, who was to bring the unguent, whilst his host found the wine; but Catullus tells us in this case it was such superlative unguent—
Of beauty gave my lady-love, I ween;
So, when in its sweet perfume you repose.
You'll wish that your whole body were a nose."
—(C. xiii.)
