FABULLUS IS INVITED TO A POET'S SUPPERThou'lt sup right well with me, Fabúllus mine,
In days few-numbered an the Gods design,
An great and goodly meal thou bring wi' thee
Nowise forgetting damsel bright o' blee,
With wine, and salty wit and laughs all-gay.
An these my bonny man, thou bring, I say
Thou'lt sup right well, for thy Catullus' purse
Save web of spider nothing does imburse.
But thou in countergift more loves shalt take
Or aught of sweeter taste or fairer make:
I'll give thee unguent lent my girl to scent
By every Venus and all Cupids sent,
Which, as thou savour, pray Gods interpose
And thee, Fabúllus, make a Naught-but-nose.