Marrúcinus Asinius! ill thou usestThat hand sinistral in thy wit and wineFilching the napkins of more heedless hosts.Dost find this funny? Fool it passeth theeHow 'tis a sordid deed, a sorry jest.Dost misbelieve me? Trust to Pollio,Thy brother, ready to compound such theftsE'en at a talent's cost; for he's a youthIn speech past master and in fair pleasantries.Of hendecasyllabics hundreds threeTherefore expect thou, or return forthrightLinens whose loss affects me not for worthBut as mementoes of a comrade mine.For napkins Saetaban from Ebro-landFabúllus ent me a free giftie givenAlso Veránius: these perforce I loveE'en as my Veraniólus and Fabúllus.