Book III, Epigram 63 (Ker)

Cotiujs, you are "a pretty fellow": many call you so, Cotilus; I hear them. But, tell me, what is a pretty fellow? "A pret'ty fellow is one who arranges neatly his curled locks, who continually smells of balsam, continually of cinnamon; who hums catches from the Nile and Gades; who waves his depilated arms in time to varied measures; who all the day lolls amid the women's chairs, and is ever whispering in some ear; who reads billets sent from one quarter or another, and writes them; who shrinks from contact with the cloak on his neighbour's elbow; who knows who is the lover of whom; who hurries from one party to another; who has at his fingers' ends the long pedigree of Hirpinus." What do you say? Is this thing, Cotilus, this thing a pretty fellow? A very trumpery thing, Cotilus, is your pretty fellow.