Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK THREE
* LXXXIII
TO CORDUS
You advise me to write shorter poems, my friend.
'Let Chione show you the trick.'
With her the beginning is also the end.
For myself, I cannot be as quick.
LXXXIV
QUID narrat tua moecha? non puellam
Dixi, Gongylion. quid ergo? linguam.
* LXXXV
TO A JEALOUS HUSBAND
WHAT ailed you to cut off the young gallant's nose,
And leave all unscathed the prime source of your woes.
LXXXVI
TO.4 MA4 TRON
THESE pages were not meant for you
That was distinctly understood,
Yet you are reading them-I knew
You would.
Dear prude, through many plays you've sat.
Read on, nor fear my coarsest verse;
The scenes you often chuckle at
Are worse.
* LXXXVII
TO CHIONE
THEY tell me, dear lady, you've always lived chaste
And your limbs by a lover have ne'er been embraced.
Yet for them at the baths a close cover's supplied:
It's your face, in my judgment, you rather should hide.
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