Please, my sweet Ipsithilla, my delight, my charmer: order me to come to you at noon. And if you should order this, it will be useful if no one makes fast the outer door [against me], and don't be minded to go out, but stay at home and prepare for us nine continuous love-makings. In truth if you are minded, give the order at once: for breakfast over, I lie supine and ripe, poking through both tunic and cloak.

0 best of the thieves of the baths, Vibennius the father, and his sexually submissive son (for the father is the filthier with the right hand, the son is the greedier with the backside), why don't you go into exile and to hellish shores, seeing that the father's plunder is known to the people, and that, son, you cannot sell your hairy butt for one cent?