Horace, Satires 1.6.107-109
obiciet nemo sordis mihi, quas tibi, Tilli,
cum Tiburte via praetorem quinque secuntur
te pueri, lasanum portantes oenophorumque.
No one will taunt me with ‘What stinginess!’ like they do with you, Tillius, when five slaves are following you – the praetor! – on the Tibur road, and carrying your chamber-pot and case of wine.
The pot is probably a chamber-pot, not a cooking-pot, as some would more squeamishly translate it.