I was always intrigued by Ipsitilla. For two thousand years scholars have guessed at her identity, but poets have always known. She is simply "ipsa" et "illa" - "her","that woman", and her song has been sung for centuries, one way and another. This, for instance, was discovered among Catullus's disputed oeuvre.
From Catullus to Fabullus
re my earlier invitation…
I fear I implied if you came round to dine
You’d smell eau-de-girl - but I didn’t mean mine.
My earlier offer is not what it seems
A little bit of Lesbia? In your dreams!
You can sniff her knickers with your nine-inch nose
But that, old buddy, is as far as it goes
You will get an escort, I promise you that;
One I can summon at the drop of a hat.
I’ll book Ipsitilla; she’s a girl I’ve had.
I’ve pricked her thicket and it’s not at all bad,
She gives good head and she writes a bit of verse.
She’s my first choice when Metella has the curse.
I’ll be in God’s pocket if you do come to dine;
You bring good company and excellent wine.
I’d ask someone else but it wouldn’t be fair –
There’ll be no feast if Fabullus isn’t there.
Go on – in for a penny, in for a pound?
You’ll like Ipsitilla if you do come round.
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