TO CAESAR OF MAMURRA, CALLED MENTULAWho e'er could witness this (who could endure Except the lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut)That should Mamurra get what hairy GaulAnd all that farthest Britons held whilòme?(Thou bardache Romulus!) this wilt see and bear?Then art a lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut!He now superb with pride superfluousShall go perambulate the bedrooms allLike white-robed dovelet or Adonis-love.Romulus thou bardache! this wilt see and bear?Then art a lewdling, dicer, greedy-gut!Is't for such like name, sole Emperor thou!Thou soughtest extreme Occidental Isle?That this your . . . . MentulaMillions and Milliards might at will absorb?What is't but Liberality misplaced?What trifles wasted he, small heirlooms spent?First his paternal goods were clean dispersed;Second went Pontus' spoils and for the third,—Ebro-land,—weets it well gold-rolling Tage.Fear him the Gallias? Him the Britons' fear? Why cherish this ill-wight? what 'vails he do?Save fat paternal heritage devour?Lost ye for such a name, o puissant pair(Father and Son-in-law), our all-in-all?

To ALFENUS THE PERJURORAlfénus! short of memory, false to comrades dearest-dear,Now hast no pity (hardened Soul!) for friend and loving fere?Now to betray me, now to guile. thou (traitor!) ne'er dost pause?Yet impious feats of fraudful men ne'er force the Gods' applause:When heed'st thou not deserting me (Sad me!) in sorest scathe,Ah say whate'er shall humans do? in whom shall man show faith?For sure thou bad'st me safely yield my spirit (wretch!) to thee,Lulling my love as though my life were all security.The same now dost withdraw thyself and every word and deedThou suffer'st winds and airy clouds to sweep from out thy head.But an forget thou, mindful be the Gods, and Faith in mindBears thee, and soon shall gar thee rue the deeds by thee design'd.

ON RETURN TO SIRMIO AND HIS VILLASirmio! of Islands and PeninsulasEyelet, and whatsoe'er in limpid meresAnd vasty Ocean either Neptune owns,Thy scenes how willing-glad once more I see,At pain believing Thynia and the FieldsBithynian left, I'm safe to sight thy Site.Oh what more blessèd be than cares resolved,When mind casts burthen and by peregrineWork over wearied, lief we hie us homeTo lie reposing in the longed-for bed!This be the single meed for toils so triste.Hail, O fair Sirmio, in thy lord rejoice:And ye, O' waves of Lybian Lake be glad,And laugh what laughter pealeth in my home.

CRAVING IPSITHILLA'S LAST FAVOURSILL love my Ipsithilla sweetest,My desires and my Wit the meetest,So bid me join thy nap o' noon!Then (after bidding) add the boonUndraw thy threshold-bolt none dare,Lest thou be led afar to fare;Nay bide at home, for us prepareNine-fold continuous love-delights.But aught do thou to hurry things,For dinner-full I lie aback,