Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love

time he will be strong. Him that you fear as a bull, as a calf you were wont to pat; the tree under which you are now reclining, was once a twig. A river at its rise is small, but it acquires strength in its course; and where it runs, it now receives many a stream. Make her become used to you; there is nothing more powerful than habit. While you are courting her, avoid no amount of trouble. Let her be always seeing you; let her be always lending ear to you; let both night and day show your countenance. When you have a greater confidence that you may be missed; then, destined to be her care when absent, go away to a distance. Give yourself some repose; the land that has lain fallow, gives back in abundance what has been entrusted to it; and the dry ground sucks up the water of the heavens. Demophoôn, when present, inflamed Phyllis in a less degree; when he had set sail, more violently did she burn. The crafty Ulysses, by his absence, tortured Penelope: far away, tearful Laodamia, was thy hero of Phylace. But a short respite alone is safe; in time, cares become modified, and the absent love decays and a new one makes its entrance. While Menelaus was absent, Helen, that she might not lie alone, was received at night into the warm bosom of his guest. What meant, Menelaus, this stupidity of thine? Thou didst go away alone; under the same roof were both the stranger and thy wife. And dost thou entrust, madman, the timid doves to the hawk? Dost thou entrust the well-filled sheep-fold to the mountain wolf? Helen commits no sin; this paramour of hers does no wrong; he does what thou, what any one, would do. Thou dost persuade them to adultery, by giving both time and opportunity. What advice, but thine own, has the fair made use of? What is she to do? Her husband is away, and a guest, no repulsive person, is present, and she is afraid to sleep alone in an empty couch. Let the son of Atreus think better of it: I acquit Helen of criminality; she made use of the opportunity given by an easy husband. But neither is the tawny boar so fierce in the midst of his rage, when he hurls the furious dogs with the lightning shock of his tusks; nor the lioness, when she is giving the breast to her sucking whelps; nor the little viper, when inhired by the heedless foot; as the woman, who is furious on detecting the rival of her nuptial couch, and bears on her features the proofs of her feelings. To the sword and to flames does she resort; and, shame laid aside, onward she is impelled, as though struck by the horns of the Aonian God. The barbarian fair one of Phasis avenged the fault of her husband, and the violated rights of a wife, by the death of her sons. See, how another cruel parent ('tis the swallow that you behold) has her breast stained with blood. 'Tis this breaks those attachments that are firmly united, this, those of long duration; these faults must then be guarded against by cautious men. But still, my judgment does not condemn you to one fair alone. The Gods forbid! hardly can the married woman adhere to this. Disport yourself; but let your faultiness be concealed by a decent stealthiness. No glory must be sought in one's own delinquency. And do you give no present of which the other may know; nor be there any stated times for your intriguing. And, lest the fair one should catch you in the retreat so well known to her, all must not be met in the same place of rendezvous. And, as often as you shall be writing, do you first examine the whole of the tablet; many a woman reads more than what has been sent to her. A slighted passion brandishes the arms of retribution, and hurls back the weapon, and causes yourself to complain of that of which it complained so lately. So long as the son of Atreus was content with one woman, she, too, was chaste; through the fault of her husband did she become culpable. She had heard how that Chryses, bearing in his hand the laurel and the fillets, had not prevailed in behalf of his daughter. She had heard, too, ravished one of Lyrnesus, of thy sorrows; and how the warfare had been protracted through disgraceful delays. Still, these things she had only heard of; the daughter of Priam, herself, she had seen. Thou, the conqueror, wast the disgraced captive of thy own captive. Then did she receive the son of Thyestes, both into her chamber and her affections; and the daughter of Tyndarus avenged herself on a husband so deeply criminal. Your actions, which you have studiously concealed, if perchance any of them are discovered, although they should be notorious, still do you always deny them. On such occasions, do you neither be subdued, nor more kind than usual. That bears the marks of a mind that has too deeply offended. Still, spare not any endearments on your side; peace is entirely centred in caresses alone; by these must the former intrigue be disavowed. There are some who would recommend you to use injurious herbs, such as savory; in my opinion they are so many poisons. Or else, they mingle pepper with the seed of the stinging nettle; [952] and the yellow camomile pounded in old wine. But the Goddess, whom the lofty Eryx receives beneath his shady hill, does not allow us to be impelled in such manner to her delights. The white onion [953] which is sent from the Pelasgian city of Alcathoiis, [954] and the salacious herbs which come out of the gardens, and eggs may be eaten; the honey of Hymettus may be eaten, and the nuts which the pine-tree with its sharp leaves produces. Why, learned Erato, art thou thus diverging into the medical art? The inner side of the turning-place must be grazed by my chariot. You, who just now were, by my recommendation, to conceal your delinquencies, change your course, and, by my advice, disclose your intrigues. Nor yet is any inconsistency of mine to be censured; the curving ship does not always carry those on board with the same breezes. For sometimes we run with the Thracian Boreas, sometimes with the East wind; full aft does the canvass swell with the Zephyrs, with the South wind full aft. See how, in the chariot, the driver, at one moment, gives the flowing rein, at another, skilfully checks the horses in full career. There are some, with whom an anxious obsequiousness is ruinous, and if there is no rival existing, then their passion waxes faint. The feelings often run riot amid prosperity; and to bear good fortune with equanimity is no easy task. As the declining fire, its strength consuming by degrees, itself lies concealed, and the ashes become white over the surface of the fire; but still, when sulphur is applied, it finds the flames that were extinguished, and the light returns which existed before; so, when the feelings, sluggish through repose, and free from care, become torpid, by sharp stimulants must love be aroused. Make her to be jealous on your account, and rekindle her deadened feelings; let her turn pale at the proof of your inconstancy. Oh four times blest, and so oft, that it is not possible to limit it to numbers, is that man, on whose account the slighted fair is in grief! who, soon as the charge has reached her unwilling ears, faints away: and both her voice and colour leave the sorrowing fair. Would that I were he, whose locks she tears in her fury; would that I were he, whose tender cheeks she tears with her nails; whom she looks upon bursting into tears; whom she beholds with scowling eyes; without whom she cannot exist; _but still_ wishes that she could. If you enquire as to its duration: let the time be short for her to complain of her injuries, lest her anger may acquire strength in the slowly passing lapse of time. And now let her fair neck be encircled in your arms; and as she weeps, she must be received in your bosom. Give her kisses as she weeps: bestow her caresses as she weeps. Peace will ensue: by this method alone is anger appeased. When she has been passionately raving, when she shall seem to be an assured enemy; then seek your treaty of peace in caresses; she will then be pacified. For 'tis there that Concord dwells, all arms laid aside; 'tis in that spot, believe me, that the Graces were born. The doves which fought the moment before, are now billing; their cooing has the meaning of caresses, and of words. At first [955] there was a confused mass of things without arrangement; and the stars, the earth, and the ocean, were but of one appearance. Afterwards, the heavens were placed above the earth; the land was surrounded by the sea, and the confused Chaos was divided into its elements. The woods received the beasts, the air the birds as its possession; in the flowing waters, you, fishes were concealed. At that time the human race wandered in the solitary woods: and it consisted of nothing but brute force, and a mind quite uninformed. The woods were their houses, grass their food, and leaves their beds; and for a long time the one was unknown to the other. Voluptuous pleasure is said to have been the first to soften their rude dispositions; afterwards, the woman and the man settled in the same spot. What should they do? They had been instructed by no preceptor: Venus completed this delightful task without any art. The bird has an object to love: the female fish finds in the midst of the waters an object with which to share her joys. The hind follows her mate; the serpent couples with the serpent; the bitch, too, consorts with the dog. The delighted sheep unites with the ram; the heifer, also, is pleased with the bull; the fiat-nosed she-goat, too, receives her unclean mate. [956] Mares are driven to frenzy, and follow the horses, separated by streams, over places far distant from each other in situation. Come, then, and give an efficacious remedy to the angered fair; 'tis that alone that puts an end to violent grief. 'Tis that remedy which excels the potions of Machaon; [957] through that, when you have offended, you will have to be reinstated. While I was thus singing, Apollo, suddenly appearing, touched with his thumb the strings of his lyre inlaid with gold. In his hands there was a laurel, placed on his holy locks there was a laurel: visible as a Poet he came. [958] "Thou instructor in wanton Love," says he, "come, lead thy pupils to my temples. There is there a sentence celebrated in fame over the universal world, which bids each one to know himself. [959] He who shall be known to himself, will alone love with prudence, and will proportion every task to his strength. He to whom nature has given beauty, for that let him be admired; he who has a fair complexion, let him often lie down with a shoulder exposed. He who charms with his discourse, let him break the quietude of silence; he who sings with skill, let him sing; he who drinks with elegance, [960] let him drink. But in the middle of a conversation, neither let those who are eloquent declaim, and let not the insane poet be reciting his own compositions." Thus Phoebus recommended; observe this recommendation of Phoebus. There is full confidence in the hallowed lips of this Divinity. I am now called to my more immediate subject: whoever shall love with prudence, he will prove successful, and will obtain from my skill what he shall require. The furrows do not always return with interest that which has been entrusted to them; nor does the breeze always aid the veering barks. What pleases lovers, is but a little: 'tis much more that crosses them; let them resolve to endure many things with their feelings. As many as are the hares on Athos; [961] as the bees that feed on Hybla; [962] as the berries which the azure-coloured tree of Pallas bears; as the shells on the sea-shore; so many are the pangs of love; the shafts which we endure are reeking with plenteous gall. She, whom perchance you shall see, will be said to have gone out of