Catullus now proceeds to describe the ceremonies with which the bride was conveyed to the house of her husband, and was there received. He feigns that he beholds the nuptial pomp and retinue approaching, and encourages the bride to come forth, by an elegant compliment to her beauty; as also, by reminding her of the fair fame and character of her intended husband. As she approaches, he intimates the freedom of the ancient Fescennine verses, which were first sung at marriage festivals. The bride being at length conducted to her new habitation, the poet addresses the bridegroom, and shuts up the married pair: But before concluding, in reference to Torquatus, one of the husband’s names, he alludes, with exquisite delicacy and tenderness, to the most-wished-for consequence of this happy union:— “Torquatus, volo, parvulus Matris e gremio suæ Porrigens teneras manus, Dulce rideat ad patrem, Semihiante labello.” The above verse has been thus imitated in an Epithalamium on the marriage of Lord Spencer, by Sir William Jones, who pronounces it a picture worthy the pencil of Domenichino: “And soon to be completely blest, Soon may a young Torquatus rise, Who, hanging on his mother’s breast, To his known sire shall turn his eyes, Outstretch his infant arms a while, Half ope his little lips and smile.” And thus by Leonard, in his pastoral romance of _Alexis_, where, however, he has omitted the _semihiante labello_, the finest feature in the picture:— “Quel tableau! quand un jeune enfant, Penché sur le sein de sa mère, Avec un sourire innocent Etendra ses mains vers son père.” This nuptial hymn has been the model of many epithalamiums, particularly that of Jason and Creusa, sung by the chorus in Seneca’s _Medea_, and of Honorius and Maria, in Claudian. The modern Latin poets, particularly Justus Lipsius, have exercised themselves a great deal in this style of composition; and most of them with evident imitation of the work of Catullus. It has also been highly applauded by the commentators; and more than one critic has declared that it must have been written by the hands of Venus and the Graces—“Veneris et Gratiarum manibus scriptum esse.” I wish, however, they had excepted from their unqualified panegyrics the coarse imitation of the Fescennine poems, which leaves on our minds a stronger impression of the prevalence and extent of Roman vices, than any other passage in the Latin classics. Martial, and Catullus himself elsewhere, have branded their enemies; and Juvenal, in bursts of satiric indignation, has reproached his countrymen with the most shocking crimes. But here, in a complimentary poem to a patron and intimate friend, these are jocularly alluded to as the venial indulgences of his earliest youth.