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Tavern of lust and you, its tentmates (at ninth pillar from the Cap-donned
Brothers), do you think that you alone have mentules, that it is allowed to you
alone to have sex with whatever may be feminine, and to think the rest are
goats? But, because you sit, tasteless, hundred or maybe two hundred in a row,
do you think I would not dare to bone you entire two hundred loungers at once!
Just think it! for I'll scrawl dirty pictures all over the front of your tavern.
For my girl, who has fled from my embrace, she whom I loved as none will be
loved, for whom I fought fierce fights, has seated herself here. All of you,
good men and rich, and also (0 cursed shame) all of you piddling back-alley
fornicators, are making love to her; and you above all, Egnatius, one of the
long-haired race, the son of Celtiberia full of rabbits, whose quality is
stamped by dense-grown beard, and teeth scrubbed with Spanish urine.
Catullus. The Carmina of Gaius Valerius Catullus. Leonard C. Smithers. London. Smithers. 1894.
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