Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK THREE
LXVIII
A WARNING
MATRON, this book for you is writ,
Thus far: you ask about the rest?
'Tis meant for men like me-its wit
Perhaps is somewhat scantly dressed.
'Tis stripped quite bare to run its race
And cannot wear a modest guiseThe wrestling-ground and bathing-place
Are sights unmeant for matron's eyes.
The rose's scent, the flowing bowl,
Have wrought on my Terpsichore,
Henceforward she doth scorn control
And recks not that her speech is free.
As when Priapus' figure stands
O'er garden-plots his watch to keep,
Prudes veil their face with modest hands
And yet between their fingers peep.
So you had laid aside the book
As dull and wearisome to you;
But now will take another look
Thereon-and read the volume through.
* LXIX
TO COSCONIUS
IN your poems there's nothing the modest to vex,
Not a line in the lot that makes mention of sex.
For myself, I confess it, my books are too free,
And I praise and I wonder at your purity.
Let ladies of pleasure and naughty young men
And amorous elders delight in my pen:
But the chaste decent verses, which to us you sing,
For vestals and children will be quite the thing.
* LXX
TO SCAEVINUS
THE wife you divorced, who has married her lover,
You're trying again on the sly to recover.
From the fact she's another's fresh charml slhe derives,
And the danger a zest to adultery gives.
95