Book IV, Epigram 78 (Ker)

Although your sixtieth summer is already buried, and your face shines white with many a hair, you gad with roaming feet all over the city, and there is no woman's chair but in your fussiness you bring it in the morning your "How d'ye do? "; and without you no praetor may go abroad, and neither consul misses your attendance; and ten times you make for the palace by the Sacred steep, and pompously talk only of Sigeruses and Partheniuses. Young men may no doubt do this: nothing in the world, Afer, is more ugly than an old busybody.