Book IV, Epigram 88 (Ker)

You have sent me no presents in return for my small offering, and already Saturn's five days are over. So not even six scruples of Septician silver plate have been sent me, nor a napkin given you by a peevish client, nor a jar ruddy with the blood of Antipolitan tunny, nor one containing small Syrian figs, nor a stumpy basket of wrinkled Picenian olives, so that you could say that you remembered me? You may deceive others with words and benignant face, for to me in future you will be a detected pi'etender.