I WOULD not have you curl your hair,
Though tangled locks I can't endure;
Trim hands and skin should never bear
The patent signs of manicure.

Ape not the beardless Eastern style,
The culprit's sloven chin abhor!
To pose as less than man is vile,
'Tis barbarous to pose as more.

Though manhood's outward looks you wear
In hirsute limb and bearded face,
Your mind the while is plucked and bare,
Of manly growth there's not a trace.

As your legs are as curved as the moon's horns when new,
Then your bath should be shaped like a drinking-horn too.

To buy a young minion you've spent all your gold,
And let your three children go hungry and cold,
While you force him on you his male vigour to prove,
Who are long past the age for legitimate love.
May you grow old together, and never another
Embrace you but he, you unnatural mother.

You ask the reasons why I never do
Kiss you?
Fair locks I love and you have none,
That's one.
Your face is of the beetroot's hue,
That's two.
Your one blear eye can hardly see,
That's three.
That act all nature might appal,

You would not plead my cause with Balbus, lest
You might offend and lose his interest:
Against Licinus next I brought a suit;
You thought him far too great to prosecute:
Though Patrobas should trespass on my field,
He's Nero's freedman, so you bid me yield:
Or if Laronia keep the slaves I lend her,
A rich old widow, you will not offend her.
To serve a servant is a lot abhorred;
Let him be free who is my overlord.

I KNOW Jenny well: she's a right proper lass:
Not a girl in the town can her kisses surpass.

I CHANCED to ask a loan — a hundred merely;
E'en as a gift that should not task severely
A wealthy friend, and so I asked him, knowing
His pockets bulge with cash to overflowing.
" Go to the Bar," says he, " get rich by pleading" —
'Tis cash, not counsel, Gaius, that I'm needing.

On a front bench to let the world admire
He sits; his jewelled fingers flash and glow,
Deeply his cloak has drunk the dyes of Tyre,
His robe is whiter than the virgin snow.

His locks diffuse their perfume all around,
White are his glittering arms without an hair,
New sandals daily on his feet are bound,
And softest hide is all that he can bear.

The crescent on his scarlet boot is seen,
His patch-bespangled brow bears many a star;
Dost know the creature? Strip his forehead clean,
The brands thereon tell what his titles are.

W HENE'ER you plead in court or read your verses,
Watch Selius fishing for an invitation.
With wild applause your words he intersperses,
" Perfect," " Hear, hear," " 'Tis said to admiration,"
" Bravo," " How grand the style!" " How good the matter!" —
Then you invite him, just to stop his chatter.

Though you hope that her cough will soon carry her off,
For gasping and swooning is she,
Do not flatter yourself that you'll finger her pelf;
For her faint is a feint with an " e".