Should the keeper be proof against these _contrivances_; in place of paper, let your confidant afford her shoulders; and upon her own person let her carry your words. Letters, too, written in new milk, are safe and escape the eye; touch them with powdered coals, and you will read them. The writing, too, which is made with the stalk of wetted flax, [1114] will deceive, and the clean surface will bear the secret marks. The care of watching a fair one fell to Acrisius; still, through his own fault, did she make him a grandsire. What can a keeper do, when there are so many Theatres in the City? When, eagerly she is a spectator of the harnessed steeds? When she is sitting in attendance upon the sistra of the Pharian heifer, and at the place where her male friends are forbidden to go? While, too, the Good Goddess [1115] expels the gaze of males from her temples, except any that, perchance, she bids to come: while, as the keeper watches outside the clothes of the fair, the baths may in safety conceal the lovers who are hiding there; while, so often as is requisite, some pretended she-friend may be sick, and, ill as she is, may give place for her in her couch. While the false key, too, tells [1116] by its name what we are to do, and it is not the door alone that gives the access you require. The watchfulness of the keeper is eluded by plenty of wine; even though [1117] the grapes be gathered on the hills of Spain. There are drugs, too, which create deep sleep; and let them close the eyes overpowered by Lethæan night. And not amiss does the confidant occupy the troublesome fellow with dalliance to create delay, and in his company spins out the time. What need is there to be teaching stratagems and trifling precepts, when the keeper may be purchased by the smallest present? Believe me, presents influence both men and Gods: on gifts being presented, Jupiter himself is appeased. What is the wise man to do, when even the fool is gratified with a present? The husband himself, on receiving a present, will be silent. But once only throughout the long year must the keeper be bought; full oft will he hold out the hand which he has once extended.