Book I, Epigram 92 (Ker)

Often Cestos complains to me with overflowing eyes that he is pawed by your finger, Mamurianus. No need of a finger: take Cestos altogether to yourself if he, Mamurianus, is all that you lack. But if you possess no fire, nor frame of a bare truckle-bed, nor a broken cup like Chione's and Antiope's; if a cloak, white with age and threadbare, hangs over your loins, and a Gaulish cape covers but half your buttocks; and if you batten on the steam only of a sooty kitchen, and on all fours like a dog drink from dirty puddles, I will not prod that latter-end of yours — it isn't a latter-end, being unused — but I will gouge out your remaining eye. And don't say I am jealous or malicious. In a word, follow your bent, Mamurianus — on a full stomach!