_On this the damsel_ blushed: [108] "Blushing," _said the hag_, "suits a faircomplexion indeed; but if you _only_ pretend it, 'tis an advantage; _if_ real, it is wont to be injurious. When, your eyes cast down, [109] you are looking full upon your bosom, each man must _only_ be looked at in the proportion in which he offers. Possibly the sluttish Sabine females, [111] when Tati us was king, were unwilling to be accommodating to more men _than one_. Now-a-days, Mars employs the bravery _of our men_ in foreign warfare; [112] but Venus holds sway in the City of her own Æneas. Enjoy yourselves, my pretty ones; she is chaste, whom nobody has courted; or else, if coyness does not prevent her, she herself is the wooer. Dispel these frowns [113] as well, which you are carrying upon your lofty brow; with those frowns will numerous failings be removed. Penelope used to try [114] the strength of the young men upon the bow; the bow that tested _the strength_ of their sides, was made of horn. Age glides stealthily on, and beguiles us as it flies; just as the swift river glides onward with its flowing waters. Brass grows bright by use; good clothes require to be worn; uninhabited buildings grow white with nasty mould. Unless you entertain _lovers_, beauty _soon_ waxes old, with no one to enjoy it; and _even_ one or two _lovers_ are not sufficiently profitable. From many _of them_, gain is more sure, and not so difficult to be got. An abundant prey falls to the hoary wolves out of a _whole_ flock. "See now! what does this poet of yours make you a present of besides his last verses? You will read many thousands of them by _this_ new lover. The God himself of poets, graceful in his mantle [116] adorned with gold, strikes the harmonious strings of the gilded lyre. He that shall make you presents, let him be to you greater than great Homer; believe me, it is a noble thing to give. And, if there shall be any one redeemed at a price for his person [117], do not you despise him; the fault of having the foot rubbed with chalk [118] is a mere trifle. Neither let the old-fashioned wax busts about the halls [119] take you in; pack off with your forefathers, you needy lover. Nay more, should [120] one, because he is good-looking, ask for a night without a present; _why_, let him first solicit his own admirer for something to present to you.