Amores II.7 (Riley)

Am I then 'to be for ever made the object of accusation by new charges? Though I should conquer, yet I am tired of entering the combat so oft. Do I look up to the very top of the marble theatre, from the multitude, you choose some woman, from whom to receive a cause of grief. Or does some beauteous fair look on me with inexpressive features; you find out that there are secret signs on the features. Do I praise any one; with your nails you attack her ill-starred locks; if I blame any one, you think I am hiding some fault. If my colour is healthy, then I am pronounced to be indifferent towards you; if unhealthy, then I am said to be dying with love for another. But I only wish I was conscious to myself of some fault; those endure punishment with equanimity, who are deserving of it. Now you accuse me without cause; and by believing every thing at random, you yourself forbid your anger to be of any consequence. See how the long-eared ass, in his wretched lot, walks leisurely along, although tyrannized over with everlasting blows.

And lo! a fresh charge; Cypassis, so skilled at tiring, is blamed for having been the supplanter of her mistress. May the Gods prove more favourable, than that if I should have any inclination for a faux pas, a low-born mistress of a despised class should attract me! What free man would wish to have amorous intercourse with a bondwoman, and to embrace a body mangled with the whip? Add, too, that she is skilled in arranging your hair, and is a valuable servant to you for the skill of her hands. And would I, forsooth, ask such a thing of a servant, who is so faithful to you? And for why? Only that a refusal might be united to a betrayal? I swear by Venus, and by the bow of the winged boy, that I am accused of a crime which I never committed.