Book V, 152

Fly for me, mosquito, swiftly on my message, and lighting on the rim of Zenophila’s ear whisper thus into it: “He lies awake expecting thee, and thou sleepest, O thou sluggard, who forgettest those who love thee.” Whirr! away! yea, sweet piper, away! But speak lowly to her, lest thou awake her companion of the night and arouse jealousy of me to pain her. But if thou bringest me the girl, I will hood thy head, mosquito, with the lion’s skin and give thee a club to carry in thy hand.