Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love
you come to live together; in your case 'tis love that performs the
duties of the law. Bring soft caresses, and words that delight the ear,
that she may _ever_ be joyous at your approach.
I do not come as the instructor of the wealthy in Love; he who makes
presents has no need of my experience. He who says, whenever he pleases,
"Accept this," has a genius of his own. To him do I yield: he has
greater attractions than have any discoveries of mine. I am the
instructor of the poor, because, as a poor man, I have been in love.
When I could not give presents, I gave verses. [921] Let the poor man
love with caution, let the poor man stand in fear of bad language, and
let him _put up with many a thing, not to be endured by the rich_.
I remember that once, when in a rage, I disarranged the hair of my
mistress; of how many a day did that anger deprive me! I do not think I
did, and I did not see that I had, torn her tunic, but she said so, and
at my cost it was replaced. But you who are wise, avoid the errors
of your instructor; and stand in awe of the punishment of my
transgressions.
Let battles be with the Parthians, but be there peace with your refined
mistress; mirth too, and whatever besides contains a reason for love. If
she is not sufficiently kind or affable to you her lover; have patience,
and bear it; after a time she will be softened. By giving way the supple
branch is bent from the tree; if you make trial of your strength,
you break it. By giving way the waves are swam across; but you cannot
overcome the stream if you swim _against the flood_ which the tide
carries down. 'Tis yielding that subdues the tigers and the Numidian
lions. By degrees only does the bull submit to the rustic plough. What
was there more coy than Atalanta of Nonacris? [922] Yet, untamed as she
was, she yielded to the deserving qualities of a man. They say that many
a time, beneath the trees, Milanion wept at his mishaps, and the unkind
conduct of the fair one. Full oft on his neck, as ordered, did he bear
the treacherous toils; full oft with his cruel spear did he transfix the
savage boars. Wounded, too, he experienced the stretched bow of Hylæus;
[923] but yet there was another bow still more felt than this.
I do not bid you, in arms, to climb the woods of Mænalus, and I do
not bid you to carry the toils upon your neck. Nor yet do I bid you
to expose your breast to the discharged arrows. The requirements of my
skill will be but light to the careful man. Yield to her when opposing;
by yielding, you will come off victorious. Only take care to perform the
part which she shall bid you. What she blames, do you blame; whatever
she approves, do you approve; what she says, do you say; what she
denies, do you deny. Does she smile, do you smile; if she weeps, do you
remember to weep. Let her prescribe the law for the regulation of your
features. If she plays, and throws the ivory cubes [924] with her hand,
do you throw unsuccessfully, do you make bad moves [925] to the throws;
or if you are throwing [926] the dice, let not the penalty attend upon
her losing; take care that losing throws often befall yourself, if your
piece is moving at the game that imitates [927] the tactics of war, take
care that your man falls before his enemy of glass. Do you yourself
hold the screen [928] stretched out by its ribs; do you make room in the
crowd the way that she is going. And do not delay to place the footstool
before the tasteful, couch; [929] and take off or put on the sandals
for her delicate feet. Often, too, must the hand of your mistress, when
cold, be made warm in your bosom, though you yourself should shiver in
consequence. And think it no disgrace (although it should be a disgrace
to you, still it will give pleasure), to hold the looking-glass [930]
with the hand of a free-born man.
He who, by killing the monsters of his wearied step-mother, earned those
heavens which before he had supported, is believed, amid the Ionian
girls, to have held the work-basket, [931] and to have wrought the rough
wool. The Tirynthian hero was obedient to the commands of his mistress.
Go then, and hesitate to endure what he submitted to. When bidden to
come to the Forum, take care always to be there before the appointed
time; and do not go away until a late hour. Does she appoint to meet
you at any place; put off everything else: run quickly, and let not the
crowd stop your purposed route. Is she returning home at night, after
having been at a feast; then, too, if she calls, come to her as though
a servant. [932] If you are in the country and she says, "Come," (love
hates the tardy) if a vehicle [933] is not at hand, go your journey on
foot. Let neither bad weather nor the parching Dog-star detain you, nor
the road made white with the snow that lies there.
Love is a kind of warfare; cowards, avaunt! These are not the standards
to be defended by timid men. In this tender warfare, night, and wintry
storms, and long journies, and cruel pain, and every kind of toil, have
their part. Many a time will you have to endure the rain pouring from
the clouds of heaven; cold and on the bare ground full oft will you lie.
Cynthius [934] said to have fed the cows of Admetus of Pheræ, and to
have lived in an humble cottage. What was becoming to Phoebus, to whom
is it not becoming? Away with all conceit, whoever you are, who have a
care for a lasting passion. If access is denied you by a safe and smooth
path; and if her door shall be fastened by the bar put up; then, do
you slip straight down through the open roof [935] let the high window,
[936] too, present a secret passage. She will be pleased when she knows
that she has proved the cause of risk to you. This will be to your
mistress a pledge of your unvarying love. Full oft, Leander, couldst
thou have done without thy mistress; that she might know thy passion,
thou didst swim across.
And be not ashamed to make her handmaids, as each one is superior in
rank, nor yet her male servants, entirely your own. Salute them each by
name, there will be nothing thrown away: press their humble hands, proud
lover, with your own. Moreover, (the expense is but trifling) give
to the servant who asks, some little present from your means. Make a
present, too, to the handmaid, on the day on which [937] the Gallic
army, deceived by the garments of the matrons, received retribution.
Follow my advice, and make the lower classes [938] your own; in that
number let there always be the porter, and him who lies before the door
of her chamber. And I do not bid you present to your mistress any costly
gift; give her moderate ones, but, in your discrimination, well selected
from those that are moderate. While the country is abundantly rich in
produce, while the branches are bending beneath their load, let the boy
bring your gifts from the country in his basket. You may say that they
have been sent by you from your suburban retreat, although they may
have been bought even in the Sacred Street. [939] Let him carry either
grapes, or what Amaryllis was so fond of; [940] but, at the present day,
she is fond of chesnuts no longer. And, besides, both with a thrush and
a pigeon, [941] sent as a present, you may show how attentive you are to
your mistress. By these means [942] are the expectations of death, and
solitary old age, disgracefully made matter of purchase. Oh! may they
perish through whom gifts promote criminal objects!
Why should I recommend you to send tender lines as well? Alas! poetry
does not [943] gain much honour. Verses are praised: but 'tis costly
gifts that are sought. If he is only rich, [944] a very barbarian is
pleasing. Truly is this the golden age; the greatest honours accrue
through gold; love is purchased with gold. Though thou thyself, Homer,
shouldst come, attended by the Muses; if thou shouldst bring nothing
with thee, thou wouldst be turned out of doors.
And yet there are the learned fair, a very limited number; another set
are not learned, but they wish to be so. Both kinds may be praised
in verse; the reader may set off the lines of whatever quality by a
melodious voice. Indeed, a poem, carefully composed in their honour,
will be to these or to those, as good, perhaps, as a little present.
But take care that whatever you are about to do of your own accord and
consider convenient, your mistress shall always first ask that of you.
Has freedom been promised to any one of your slaves; still cause him to
make a request for it of your mistress. If you forgive punishment and
cruel fetters to your slave, let her be indebted to you for what you
were about to do. Let the advantage be your own; let the credit be given
to your mistress. Suffer no loss yourself, and let her act the part of
the person in power.
But whosoever you are who have a care to retain the fair, cause her
to believe that you are enchanted with her beauty. If she is in Tyrian
costume, praise the dress of Tyrian hue; [945] if she is in that of Cos,
[946] consider the Coan habit as becoming. Is she arrayed in gold, let
her be more precious in your eyes than gold itself: if she wears a dress
of felt, [947] praise the felt dress that she wears. Does she stand
before you in her tunic, exclaim, "You are setting me on fire;" [948]
but entreat her, with a voice of anxiety, to beware of the cold. Is the
parting of her hair nicely arranged; praise the parting of it; has
she curled her hair by aid of the fire: curled locks, do you prove the
attraction. As she dances, admire her arms, her voice as she sings;
and use the words of one complaining because she has left off. Her very
embraces [949] you may commend, on the points that please yourself; and
with murmuring accents you may signify your delight. Though she be more
fierce than the grim Medusa; to her lover she will become gentle and
kind.
Only, take you care that you be not discovered to be a deceiver in these
expressions; and by your looks do not contradict your words. If devices
are concealed, they are of use; when discovered, they cause shame, and
deservedly remove confidence for all future time. Often, at the approach
of autumn (when the year is most beauteous, and the filled grape is
growing red with its purple juice; at the time when at one moment we
are chilled with cold, at another we are melted with heat), through the
varying temperature a languor takes possession of the body. She, indeed,
may be in good health; but if, through illness she keeps her bed, and,
ailing, feels the bad effects of the weather, then let your love and
affection be proved to the fair; then sow, that hereafter with the
sickle of abundance you may reap. Let no disgust at her malady, that
renders her so cross, come upon you: by your hands too, let whatever she
will permit, be done. And let her see you as you weep; and be not tired
of giving her kisses; and with her parched lips let her dry up your
tears. Make many a vow for her cure, but all before her: and as often as
she will permit, be seeing pleasant visions to tell her of. Let the
old woman come, [950] too, to purify her couch and chamber; and in her
palsied hand let her carry before her the sulphur and the eggs. In all
these things there will be traces of a pleasing attention; for many a
one has this road proved a path to another man's will. But still,
let not loathing on the part of the sick fair be the result of your
officiousness; let there be certain limits shown in your careful
attentiveness. Do not you forbid her food, nor administer the cups with
the bitter draught; let your rival mingle those.
But when you have gained the open sea, you must not use the breeze to
which you set your sails from off the shore. While Love is wandering
in his youth, let him gain strength by habit; if you nurse him well, in