There is--whoe'er will know a bawd aright, Give ear--there is an old trot Dipsas hight.[170] Her name comes from the thing: she being wise,[171] Sees not the morn on rosy horses rise, She magic arts and Thessal charms doth know, And makes large streams back to their fountains flow; She knows with grass, with threads on wrung[172] wheels spun, And what with mares' rank humour[173] may be done. When she will, cloudes the darkened heaven obscure, When she will, day shines everywhere most pure. 10 If I have faith, I saw the stars drop blood, The purple moon with sanguine visage stood; Her I suspect among night's spirits to fly, And her old body in birds' plumes to lie. Fame saith as I suspect; and in her eyes, Two eyeballs shine, and double light thence flies. Great grandsires from their ancient graves she chides, And with long charms the solid earth divides. She draws chaste women to incontinence, Nor doth her tongue want harmful eloquence. 20 By chance I heard her talk; these words she said, While closely hid betwixt two doors I laid. "Mistress, thou knowest thou hast a blest youth pleased, He stayed and on thy looks his gazes seized. And why should'st not please; none thy face exceeds; Ay me, thy body hath no worthy weeds! As thou art fair, would thou wert fortunate! Wert thou rich, poor should not be my state. Th' opposËd star of Mars hath done thee harm; Now Mars is gone, Venus thy side doth warm, 30 And brings good fortune; a rich lover plants His love on thee, and can supply thy wants. Such is his form as may with thine compare, Would he not buy thee, thou for him should'st care."[174] She blushed: "Red shame becomes white cheeks; but this If feigned, doth well; if true, it doth amiss. When on thy lap thine eyes thou dost deject, Each one according to his gifts respect. Perhaps the Sabines rude, when Tatius reigned To yield their love to more than one disdained. 40 Now Mars doth rage abroad without all pity, And Venus rules in her ∆neas' city. Fair women play; she's chaste whom none will have Or, but for bashfulness, herself would crave. Shake off these wrinkles that thy front assault; Wrinkles in beauty is a grievous fault. Penelope in bows her youths' strength tried, Of horn the bow was that approved[175] their side. Time flying slides hence closely, and deceives us, And with swift horses the swift year[176] soon leaves us. 50 Brass shines with use; good garments would[177] be worn; Houses not dwelt in, are with filth forlorn. Beauty, not exercised, with age is spent, Nor one or two men are sufficient. Many to rob is more sure, and less hateful, From dog-kept flocks come preys to wolves most grateful.