Do not wonder, o Rufus, why no woman
wants to place her dainty thigh under you,
not if you should undermine her with a gift of rare clothes
or with the pleasures of a transparent jewel.
A certain bad story hurts you, by which a wild billy-goat
is said to dwell under the valley of your upper arms.
All fear this; nor is it strange: for it is a very bad
beast, nor one with which a pretty girl would lie.
Therefore, either kill the cruel pest of the noses
or cease to wonder why they flee.
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Nōlī admīrārī quārē tibi fēmina nūlla,
Rūfe, velit tenerum supposuisse femur,
nōn sī illam rārae labefactēs mūnere vestis
aut perlūcidulī dēliciīs lapidis.
Laedit tē quaedam mala fābula, quā tibi fertur
valle sub ālārum trux habitāre caper.
Hunc metuunt omnēs; neque mīrum: nam mala valdē est
bēstia, nec quīcum bella puella cubet.
Quārē aut crūdēlem nāsōrum interfice pestem,
aut admīrārī dēsine cūr fugiant.
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69.10
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