10
Quem tu qua lubet, ut iubet, moveto,
Quantum vis, ubi erit foris, paratum:
Hunc unum excipio, ut puto, pudenter.
Quod si te mala mens furorque vecors
In tantam inpulerit, sceleste, culpam, 15
Vt nostrum insidiis caput lacessas,
A tum te miserum malique fati,
Quem attractis pedibus patente porta
Percurrent raphanique mugilesque.

XV.

TO AURELIUS--HANDS OFF THE BOY!

To thee I trust my loves and me,
(Aurelius!) craving modesty.
That (if in mind didst ever long
To win aught chaste unknowing wrong)
Then guard my boy in purest way. 5
From folk I say not: naught affray
The crowds wont here and there to run
Through street-squares, busied every one;
But thee I dread nor less thy penis
Fair or foul, younglings' foe I ween is! 10
Wag it as wish thou, at its will,
When out of doors its hope fulfil;
Him bar I, modestly, methinks.
But should ill-mind or lust's high jinks
Thee (Sinner!), drive to sin so dread, 15
That durst ensnare our dearling's head,
Ah! woe's thee (wretch!) and evil fate,
Mullet and radish shall pierce and grate,
When feet-bound, haled through yawning gate.

I commend me to thee with my charmer, Aurelius. I come for modest boon
that,--didst thine heart long for aught, which thou desiredst chaste and
untouched,--thou 'lt preserve for me the chastity of my boy. I do not say
from the public: I fear those naught who hurry along the thoroughfares
hither thither occupied on their own business: truth my fear is from thee
and thy penis, pestilent eke to fair and to foul. Set it in motion where
thou dost please, whenever thou biddest, as much as thou wishest, wherever
thou findest the opportunity out of doors: this one object I except, to my
thought a reasonable boon. But if thy evil mind and senseless rutting push
thee forward, scoundrel, to so great a crime as to assail our head with thy
snares, O wretch, calamitous mishap shall happen thee, when with feet taut
bound, through the open entrance radishes and mullets shall pierce.

XVI.

Pedicabo ego vos et inrumabo,
Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi,
Qui me ex versiculis meis putastis,
Quod sunt molliculi, parum pudicum.
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam 5
Ipsum, versiculos nihil necessest,
Qui tum denique habent salem ac leporem,
Si sunt m