But do ye meanwhile to the fire be brought,
That teem with boorish jest of sorry blade,
20
Volusius' Annals, paper scum-bewrayed.
Volusius' Annals, merdous paper, fulfil ye a vow for my girl: for she vowed to sacred Venus and to Cupid that if I were re-united to her and I desisted hurling savage iambics, she would give the most elect writings of the pettiest poet to the tardy-footed God to be burned with ill-omened wood. And this the saucy minx chose, jocosely and drolly to vow to the gods. Now, O Creation of the cerulean main, who art in sacred Idalium, and in Urian haven, and who doth foster Ancona and reedy Cnidos, Amathus and Golgos, and Dyrrhachium, Adriatic tavern, accept and acknowledge this vow if it lack not grace nor charm. But meantime, hence with ye to the flames, crammed with boorish speech and vapid, Annals of Volusius, merdous paper.
XXXVII.
Salax taberna vosque contubernales,
A pileatis nona fratribus pila,
Solis putatis esse mentulas vobis,
Solis licere, quidquid est puellarum,