I won't lie; I think Ovid is annoying as hell sometimes and also a bit paranoid about women cheating. All the same, this poem, which should be (and is) rather irritating, still manages to make me enjoy it despite myself. I do love his lighter writing - it's very pleasant and almost sweet in a way.
Because you're beautiful, I don't protest that you shouldn't sin,
but that it should not be inevitable for me to know about, miserable;
and my criticism doesn't order you to become chaste,
but, however, it asks that you try to conceal it.
She does not sin, whoever can deny she sinned,
and the fault professed alone makes her infamous.
Who is angry that you confess in daylight that which lies hidden by the night
and you mention them openly as having been made these things which you may do secretly?
A courtesan, about to join her body to an unknown citizen
moves people away by the door-bar set in the way beforehand;
you'll set up for all to see your sins for vicious rumour
and you'll completely go through the evidence of your offence?
Let the mind be better for you, or at least copy the chaste,
let me think you're honest, though you won't be.
Do these, which you do; only deny you've done them,
I spoke modest words, and let it not shame you before me!
There's the sort of place that demands badness; fill it with
all types of delights, let modesty stand far away then!
Once you've left this place, straightaway let all immoral behaviour
be absent, and lay aside your crimes on your bed.
Nor let laying aside your tunic in that place be for shame for you
nor supporting a thigh laid onto a thigh;
There let your tongue be buried in crimson lips,
and let love shape Venus in a thousand ways;
and there let neither voices nor delighting words cease work,
and let the bed's frame shake with playful agility!
Put on a face dreading accusations with your tunic,
and let a sense of shame deny indecent business;
give to the people, deceive me; please let me be mistaken, not knowing,
and let enjoying my foolish trustfulness be allowed!
Why do I so often see letters sent and received?
Why has the first of and inner of the bed been pressed down?
Why do I catch sight of hair being disturbed more than it would have been by
sleep and her neck has love bites?
You only don't lead down your crime to my eyes themselves;
if you hesitate to have consideration for your reputation, have consideration for me!
My mind goes away and I die as often as you confess to having sinned,
and the blood runs cold through my body.
Then I love, then I hate in vain because it is inescapable to love;
then I want to be dead, but with you!
I for my part will investigate nothing, and I won't follow what you'll be planning to
conceal, and being deceived by you will be the equal of a kindness.
If, however, you'll be caught, taken by surprise in the middle of a misdeed,
and if disgraces will have been seen for my eyes,
deny what will have been seen really for me to have been really seen -
my eyes will give way to your words.
The palm of victory is favourably inclined for you to conquer a man desiring to be conquered,
merely let your tongue be mindful to say "I didn't do it!".
Since to overpower with two words falls to you,
if not by your case, win by your judge!
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