81

To Priapus

At non longa bene est, non stat bene mentula crassa
   et quam si tractes, crescere posse putes?
me miserum, cupidas fallit mensura puellas:
   non habet haec aliud mentula maius eo.
utilior Tydeus qui, si quid credis Homero,
   ingenio pugnax, corpore parvus erat.
sed potuit damno nobis novitasque pudorque
   esse, repellendus saepius iste mihi.

Know that this crass coarse yard nor lengthens nor stands as becomes it;
Though an thou handle the same unto fair growth will it grow.
Woe's me! how lustful girls are gulled by its seeming dimensions
Than which bigger of bulk never a prickle was seen.
Usefuller Tydeus was albeit (an trust we to Homer)
In his diminutive frame dwelt a pugnacious soul.
Yet from this strangeness and shame could nothing ever avail us
And such damage I deem better it were to repel.

But the stupid mentule does not rise to a sufficient length nor stand well enough, although if you fondle it, you would think it possible to cause it to swell. Woe is me, its dimensions deceive the eager girls,[1] for when in proper condition, there is nothing greater than this mentule. Tydeus was of more service, who, if Homer is to be believed, was warlike in nature, puny in stature. But this strangeness and modesty could but be a loss to me: it is oftener thrust from me.