Book XI, Epigram 16 (Ker)

You, reader, who are too strait-laced, can now go away from here whither you will: I wrote these verses for the citizen of wit; now my page wantons in verse of Lampsacus, and beats the timbrel with the hand of a figurante of Tartessus. Oh, how often will you with your ardour disarrange your garb, though you may be more strait-laced than Curius and Fabricius! You also, O girl, may, when in your cups, read the naughtiness and sportive sallies of my little book, though you may be from Patavium.'' Lucretia blushed and laid down my volume; but Brutus was present. Brutus, go away: she will read it.