|If, fool, thou dost not need the fair to be well watched; still have her watched for my sake: that I may be pleased with her the more. What one may have is worthless; what one may not have, gives the more edge to the desires. If a man falls in love with that which another permits him _to love_, he is a man without feeling. Let us that love, both hope and fear in equal degree; and let an occasional repulse make room for our desires. Why should I _think of_ Fortune, should she never care to deceive me? I value nothing that does not sometimes cause me pain. The clever Corinna saw this failing in me; and she cunningly found out the means by which I might be enthralled. Oh, how many a time, feigning a pain in her head [485] that was quite well, has she ordered me, as I lingered with tardy foot, to take my departure! Oh, how many a time has she feigned a fault, and guilty _herself,_ has made there to be an appearance of innocence, just as she pleased! When thus she had tormented me and had rekindled the languid flame, again was she kind and obliging to my wishes. What caresses, what delightful words did she have ready for me! What kisses, ye great Gods, and how many, used she to give me! You, too, who have so lately ravished my eyes, often stand in dread of treachery, often, when entreated, refuse; and let me, lying prostrate on the threshold before your door-posts, endure the prolonged cold throughout the frosty night. Thus is my love made lasting, and it grows up in lengthened experience; this is for my advantage, this forms food for my affection. A surfeit of love, [486] and facilities too great, become a cause of weariness to me, just as sweet food cloys the appetite. If the brazen tower had never enclosed Danaë, [487] Danaë had never been made a mother by Jove. While Juno is watching Io 'with her curving horns, she becomes still more pleasing to Jove than she has been _before_. Whoever desires what he may have, and what is easily obtained, let him pluck leaves from the trees, and take water from the ample stream. If any damsel wishes long to hold her sway, let her play with her lover. Alas! that I, myself, am tormented through my own advice. Let _constant_ indulgence be the lot of whom it may, it does injury to me: that which pursues, _from it_ I fly; that which flies, I ever pursue. But do thou, too sure of the beauteous fair, begin now at nightfall to close thy house. Begin to enquire who it is that so often stealthily paces thy threshold? Why, _too_, the dogs bark [488] in the silent night. Whither the careful handmaid is carrying, or whence bringing back, the tablets? Why so oft she lies in her couch apart? Let this anxiety sometimes gnaw into thy very marrow; and give some scope and some opportunity for my stratagems.