§2.226Curre, nec inceptum turba moretur iter.
Run, and let not the crowd delay the journey you have begun.
§2.227Nocte domum repetens epulis perfuncta redibit: §2.228Tum quoque pro servo, si vocat illa, veni.
Returning home at night, she will come back having completed her feasting: then also, if she calls, come in place of a slave.
She will be in the country, and will say "come": Love hates the lazy: if wheels are lacking, do you traverse the road on foot.
Neither let the severe weather nor the thirsting Dog-star delay you, nor the road made white through fallen snows.
Love is a kind of military service; depart, you lazy ones: these standards are not to be defended by fearful men.
Night and winter, and long journeys, and cruel pains, and every labor is in this soft camp.
Often you will bear rain released from the heavenly cloud, and cold, you will often lie on the bare ground.
The Cynthian is said to have pastured the cows of Admetus of Pherae, and to have hidden himself in a small cottage.
§2.241Quod Phoebum decuit, quem non decet? exue fastus,
What befitted Phoebus, whom does it not befit?
§2.242Curam mansuri quisquis amoris habes.
Lay aside pride, whoever of you has care for a lasting love.
§2.243Si tibi per tutum planumque negabitur ire, §2.244Atque erit opposita ianua fulta sera, §2.245At tu per praeceps tecto delabere aperto: §2.246Det quoque furtivas alta fenestra vias.
If you are denied to go through a safe and level path, and the door is barred with an opposed bolt, yet do you slip down headlong through the open roof: let also a high window give secret ways.
She will be glad, and will know that she is the cause of danger to you; this will be a pledge of certain love to your mistress.
Often, Leander, you could have done without your girl: you swam across, so that she might know your mind.
Let it not be a shame to you to win over the maidservants, as each is first in order, nor let it be a shame to you to have won over the male slaves.
Greet each by his own name (it is no loss), join your humble hands, ambitious man, to theirs.
§2.255Sed tamen et servo (levis est inpensa) roganti §2.256Porrige Fortunae munera parva die: §2.257Porrige et ancillae, qua poenas luce pependit §2.258Lusa maritali Gallica veste manus.
But yet also to a slave who asks (the expense is light) reach out small gifts on the day of Fortuna: reach them out also to the maidservant, on the day when the Gallic band, having played a trick in matrons' garments, paid the penalty.
§2.259Fac plebem, mihi crede, tuam; sit semper in illa §2.260Ianitor et thalami qui iacet ante fores.
[implied above] Make the common crowd your own, believe me; let there always be among them the doorkeeper and the one who lies before the doors of the bedchamber.
Nor do I command that you present your mistress with a costly gift: give small things, but give fitting ones cleverly chosen from small things.
While the rich field is bountiful, when the branches nod with their weight, let a country boy bring rustic gifts in a basket.
You will be able to say they were sent from your suburban estate, even though they may have been bought on the Sacred Way.
Let him bring either grapes, or those nuts which Amaryllis used to love — but now she does not love chestnut nuts.
Nay, even with a thrush or a sent dove, you may testify that you are mindful of your mistress.
§2.271Turpiter his emitur spes mortis et orba senectus.
Shamefully by these things are bought the hope of death and a childless old age.
§2.272A, pereant, per quos munera crimen habent!
Ah, let them perish, through whom gifts have a crime attached to them!
§2.273Quid tibi praecipiam teneros quoque mittere versus?
Why should I instruct you to send tender verses also?
§2.274Ei mihi, non multum carmen honoris habet.
Ah me, song does not possess much honor.
Poems are praised, but great gifts are sought: so long as he be rich, even a barbarian himself pleases.
Now indeed are the golden ages: the greatest honor comes by gold: by gold love is procured.
Though you should come accompanied by the Muses yourself, Homer, if you bring nothing, you will go out of doors, Homer.
§2.281Sunt tamen et doctae, rarissima turba, puellae; §2.282Altera non doctae turba, sed esse volunt.
Yet there are also learned girls, a very rare crowd; another crowd is not learned, but they wish to be.
§2.283Utraque laudetur per carmina: carmina lector §2.284Commendet dulci qualiacumque sono; §2.285His ergo aut illis vigilatum carmen in ipsas §2.286Forsitan exigui muneris instar erit.
Let both be praised through poems: let the reader commend the poems, of whatever sort they be, with a sweet sound; therefore, a poem kept awake for either these or those, directed at them, will perhaps be in the likeness of a small gift.
But what you will be about to do of yourself, and believe to be useful, make it so that your mistress always asks that of you.
§2.289Libertas alicui fuerit promissa tuorum: §2.290Hanc tamen a domina fac petat ille tua: §2.291Si poenam servo, si vincula saeva remittis, §2.292Quod facturus eras, debeat illa tibi: §2.293Utilitas tua sit, titulus donetur amicae: §2.294Perde nihil, partes illa potentis agat.
Let freedom have been promised to some one of your servants: yet make it so that he asks this of your mistress: if you remit punishment to a slave, or cruel chains, let her owe to you what you were going to do: let the utility be yours, let the title be given to your mistress: lose nothing, let her play the part of the powerful one.
But do you, whoever has a care for retaining his girl, make her think that you are astounded by her beauty.