Sportive Epigrams on Priapus (in prose) (46-50)

O Damsel, no fairer-skinned than the Moor, but limper than any catamite, briefer in stature than the Pygmies timorous of the crane, harsher in aspect and shaggier than a she-bear, roomier [in thy vulva] than the trousers of the Medes and Indians, thou mayst tarry here or depart at thy will. For, though I may seem fully equipped, 'twould be the work of ten handfuls of rockets* to [induce me to] scrub through the ditches 'twixt thy thighs, and bethwack the worms swarming in thy coynte!

Whichever of you, who, coming to my banquet, abstains from inscribing to me any verses, I pray that his wife or mistress may make languid his rival with lascivious sporting, whilst he himself sleeps alone through the weary night, excited by lustful rockets.[*]

Altho' you see that part of me to be wet by which I'm signified to be Priapus, 'tis not dew, believe me, nor hoarfrost, but what is wont to gush forth spontaneously when my mind recalls a pathic girl [catamite]

Thou who seest the walls of my temple covered round with jocose poems, not too chaste, cease to be shocked at the obscene verses: mine is not a mentule with raised eyebrow

If it like thee, O Priapus, a certain girl, most sorely troubled with the piles, sports with me, and neither gives me nor denies her favours, but hitherto has found pretexts for deferring. If it shall to my lot to enjoy her, we will encircle the whole of thy mentule, O Priapus, with our twin garlands