There’s a certain – Listen! Anyone who wants to know
of a procuress! – there’s a certain old woman called Dipsas.
She gets her name from the thing – she never saw Dawn
with her rosy horses, mother of dark Memnon, while sober.
She’s learnt the Magi’s tricks and Circe’s Aaean charms
and her art can make rivers flow back to their source:
She knows what herbs to use, how to whirl the bullroarer
and the value of the slime from a mare on heat.
When she wants, she can make cloud gather in the sky:
when she wants, she brightens the day with a full sun.
If you can believe it, I’ve seen the stars drip blood:
blood-red was the very face of the Moon.
I suspect she changes, at will, in the shadows of night
and her old woman’s body grow feathers.
I suspect it, and that’s the rumour. Her eyes shine too
with double pupils, and twin lights come from the orbs.
She calls up ancient ancestors, ghosts from the grave
and with long-winded charms splits solid earth.
She herself set out to desecrate our chaste bed:
nor did she lack an eloquent tongue for doing harm.
Chance made me witness to her speech: her instructions
went just like this – the double doors hid me:
You know, the other day, light of my life, you pleased
the rich young man? He’s always here, hangs on your look.
And why shouldn’t he? With beauty second to none:
alas, you lack the training worthy of your body.
I would wish that you were so wealthy as beautiful:
I will not be poor if you become rich.
That opposing planet Mars was doing you harm.
Mars transited: now Venus is right for you.
Her move benefits you, come and see! A rich lover
desires you: he’s got attentions for you, those you lack.
There is a face to that one with which he could compare himself to you:
If he were not wishing that you be bought, he would have to be bought.
She has blushed! Modesty indeed befits a pale face,
but that one [modesty], if you should simulate it, is beneficial.
When you will look well down at your lap, with your eyes having been cast down,
He will have to be valued [as much] as each one carries.
Perhaps under Tatius’s rule the unwashed Sabine women
did not wish to be easily handled by many men:
but now Mars exerts his mind on foreign warfare
and Venus rules in Aeneas’s city.
Lovely girls play: she’s chaste, whom nobody asks –
she asks herself, if naivety doesn’t prevent her.
Look at those too that walk round with serious faces:
lots of crimes arise behind those frowns.
Penelope tested the young mens’ strength with the bow:
it was a bow of horn that proved the best.
Secretly gliding, the circling years deceive us
and, quickly sliding, the river’s waters go by.
Bronze gleams with use, a nice dress looks to be worn,
a house that’s left in a sorry state ages –
Beauty, unless you allow it, withers without exercise.
Just one or two occasions are not enough.
It’s better and not so invidious to take from many.
The wolf eats best that preys on the whole flock.
Look, what does that poet of yours give you
but new verses? Choose from a thousand lovers.
Look at the god of poets himself with a golden robe,
he performs on the strings of a gilded lyre.
He who gives should be greater for you than Homer:
believe me, giving is the clever thing.
And don’t despise a slave who’s bought his freedom:
chalked feet from the market-place are no crime.
And don’t let ancestral portraits round the atrium fool you.
Impoverished lover, remove yourself, and your fathers too!
The one, who’s handsome, who, gift-less, asks for a night,
ask him in front of his lover, what he’ll give!
Don’t ask a great reward, while you spread your net,
lest they fly: once captive oppress them with your law!
No harm in pretending love: but, if he thinks himself loved,
beware lest he sets the price of your love at nothing!
Often deny him nights. Pretend you’ve a headache,
or it’s the days of Isis, to give him a reason.
Receive him again soon, don’t let him get used to suffering,
lest love slacken through often being repulsed.
Let your door be deaf to prayers: welcome the giver:
let the one you receive hear the words of those outside:
and, as if you were hurt first, sometimes in anger hurt him –
the blame vanishes when you repay with blame.
But never spend too long a time being angry:
often an angry manner makes for quarrels.
Rather learn to cry with forced tears,
and make him, or yourself, end with wet cheeks:
and if you’re cheating don’t let perjury scare you –
Venus ensures the gods are deaf to her games.
A page or sometimes a clever maid should appear,
who has learned what gifts are fitting for you:
and let them ask little for themselves – if they often ask,
little stalks soon grow to a vast heap.
Your sister and mother and nurse can all fleece a lover:
booty can be gathered quickly by many hands.
When you’re lacking in reasons for asking gifts,
swear it’s your birthday, and here’s the cake!
Beware of letting him love securely, rival-free:
love never lasts if you take away competition.
Let him see signs of activity in your bed,
and show lascivious marks on your bruised neck.
Above all show him the gifts others have given.
If no one’s given, get some from the Via Sacra.
When you’ve taken a lot, so he shouldn’t seem to give all,
ask him to oblige with a loan, you’ll never repay!
Please him with your tongue and hide your feelings –
hurt him with flattery: foul poison hides under sweet honey.
I offer you all this learning from long experience,
don’t let the winds and the breeze blow my words away,
living, you’ll often say good things of me, and often pray,
that my bones rest softly after I’m dead.’
Her voice was running on, when my shadow betrayed me,
since my hands could scarcely contain themselves,
ready to tear at that those sparse white locks, and eyes
full of drunken tears, and wrinkled cheeks.
May the gods grant her an old age without roof or wealth,
and endless winters and perpetual thirst!
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Est quaedam (quīcumque volet cognoscere lēnam,
audiat), est quaedam nōmine Dipsas anus.
ex rē nōmen habet: nigrī nōn illa parentem
Memnonis in roseīs sōbria vīdit equīs.
illa magās artēs Aeaeaque carmina nōvit,
inque caput liquidās arte recurvat aquās;
scit bene quid grāmen, quid tortō concita rhombō
līcia, quid valeat vīrus amantis equae.
cum voluit, tōtō glomerantur nūbila caelō;
cum voluit, pūrō fulget in orbe diēs.
sanguine, sī qua fidēs, stillantia sīdera vīdī;
purpureus Lūnae sanguine vultus erat.
hanc ego nocturnās versam volitāre per umbrās
suspicor et plūmā corpus anīle tegī.
suspicor, et fāma est; oculīs quoque pūpula duplex
fulminat et geminō lūmen ab orbe venit.
ēvocat antīquīs proavōs atavōsque sepulcrīs
et solidam longō carmine findit humum.
haec sibi prōposuit thalamōs temerāre pudīcōs;
nec tamen ēloquiō lingua nocente caret.
fors mē sermōnī testem dedit; illa monēbat
tālia (mē duplicēs occuluēre forēs):
“scīs here tē, mea lux, iuvenī placuisse beātō?
haesit et in vultū cōnstitit usque tuō.
et cūr nōn placeās? nullī tua fōrma secunda est.
mē miseram! dignus corpore cultus abest.
tam fēlix essēs quam fōrmōsissima vellem:
nōn ego tē factā dīvite pauper erō.
stella tibi oppositī nocuit contrāria Martis;
Mars abiit; signō nunc Venus apta suō.
prōsit ut adveniens, ēn aspice: dīves amātor
tē cupiit; cūrae, quid tibi dēsit, habet.
est etiam faciēs, quā sē tibi comparet, illī:
sī tē nōn emptam vellet, emendus erat.
ērubuit! decet alba quidem pudor ōra, sed iste,
sī simulēs, prōdest; vērus obesse solet.
cum bene dēiectīs gremium spectābis ocellīs,
quantum quisque ferat, respiciendus erit.
forsitan immundae Tatiō regnante Sabīnae
nōluerint habilēs plūribus esse virīs;
nunc Mars externīs animōs exercet in armīs,
at Venus Aenēae regnat in urbe suī.
lūdunt fōrmōsae: casta est quam nēmo rogāvit;
aut, sī rusticitās nōn vetat, ipsa rogat.
hās quoque, quae frontis rūgās in vertice portant,
excute, dē rūgīs crīmina multa cadent.
Pēnelopē iuvenum vīrēs temptābat in arcū;
quī latus argueret corneus arcus erat.
lābitur occultē fallitque volātilis aetās,
ut celer admissīs lābitur amnis aquīs.
aera nitent ūsū, vestis bona quaerit habērī,
cānescunt turpī tecta relicta sitū:
fōrma, nisi admittās, nullō exercente senēscit;
nec satis effectūs ūnus et alter habent.
certior ē multīs nec tam invidiōsa rapīna est;
plēna venit cānīs dē grege praeda lupīs.
ecce, quid iste tuus praeter nova carmina vātēs
dōnat? amātōris mīlia multa legēs.
ipse deus vātum, pallā spectābilis aureā,
tractat inaurātae consona fīla lyrae.
quī dabit, ille tībi magnō sit māior Homērō;
crēde mihī, rēs est ingeniōsa dare.
nec tū, sī quis erit capitis mercēde redemptus,
despice: gypsātī crīmen ināne pedis.
nec tē dēcipiant veterēs circum ātria cērae:
tolle tuōs tēcum, pauper amātor, avōs.
quī, quia pulcher erit, poscet sine mūnere noctem,
quod det, amātōrem flāgitet ante suum.
parcius exigitō pretium, dum rētia tendis,
nē fugiant; captōs lēgibus ūre tuīs.
nec nocuit simulātus amor: sine crēdat amārī
et cave, nē grātīs hic tibi constet amor.
saepe negā noctēs: capitis modo finge dolōrem;
et modo, quae causās praebeat, Īsis erit.
mox recipe, ut nullum patiendī colligat ūsum
nēve relentescat saepe repulsus amor.
surda sit ōrantī tua iānua, laxa ferentī;
audiat exclūsī verba receptus amans;
et, quasi laesa, prior nonnumquam īrascere laesō:
vānescit culpā culpa repensa tuā.
sed numquam dederis spatiōsum tempus in īram:
saepe simultātēs īra morāta facit.
quīn etiam discant oculī lacrimāre coactī,
et faciant ūdās illa vel illa genās;
nec, sī quem fallēs, tū periūrāre timētō:
commodat in lūsūs nūmina surda Venus.
servus et ad partēs sollers ancilla parentur,
quī doceant, aptē quid tibi possit emī,
et sibi pauca rogent: multōs sī pauca rogābunt,
postmodo dē stipulā grandis acervus erit.
et soror et māter, nūtrix quoque carpat amantem:
fit cito per multās praeda petīta manūs.
cum tē dēficient poscendī mūnera causae,
nātālem lībō testificāre tuum.
nē sēcūrus amet nullō rīvāle cavētō:
nōn bene, sī tollās proelia, dūrat amor.
ille virī videat tōtō vestīgia lectō
factaque lascīvīs līvida colla notīs;
mūnera praecipuē videat, quae mīserit alter:
sī dederit nēmō, Sacra roganda Via est.
cum multa abstulerīs, ut nōn tamen omnia dōnet,
quod numquam reddās, commodet, ipsa rogā.
lingua iuvet mentemque tegat: blandīre nocēque;
impia sub dulcī melle venēna latent.
haec sī praestiterīs ūsū mihi cognita longō
nec tulerint vōcēs ventus et aura meās,
saepe mihi dīcēs vīvae bene, saepe rogābis
ut mea dēfunctae molliter ossa cubent—”
vox erat in cursū, cum mē mea prōdidit umbra;
at nostrae vix sē continuēre manūs
quīn albam rāramque comam lacrimōsaque vīnō
lūmina rūgōsās distraherentque genās.
dī tibi dent nullōsque Larēs inopemque senectam,
et longās hiemēs perpetuamque sitim!
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