Book III, Epigram 72: Ad Lauferam

Thou darest be nought, yet wilt not bathe wtih mee,
I know no guilt to ground thy jealousie.
Either thy ragged brests hang ugly down,
Or being naked, fearst to shew thy own,
Else thy torn groin, gapes with a monstrous slit,
Or fome prodigious thing hangs over it;
If none of these? thou art a beauteous tool,
If true? thou hast a worse fault, th'art a fool.