Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love

He is mistaken who supposes that time is the object of those only who till the fields, and is to be observed by mariners alone. Neither must the corn be always trusted to the treacherous soil; nor the hollow ships at all times to the green waves; nor is it safe to be ever angling for the charming fair. The same thing may often be better done when an opportunity offers. Whether it is her birthday 765 that comes, or whether the Calends, 766 which Venus delights to have as the successor of the month of Mars; or whether the Circus shall be adorned, not with statues, as it was before, but shall be containing the wealth of kings 767 exposed to view; delay your project; then the storm is boisterous, then the Pleiades prevail; 768 then, the tender Kid is sinking in the ocean wave. Then, 'tis well to desist; then, if one trusts the deep, with difficulty he grasps the shipwrecked fragments of his dismantled bark. You may make a beginning on the day on which tearful Allia 769 was stained with the blood of the Latian wounds; on the day, too, when the festival recurs, observed each seventh day by the Syrian of Palestine, a day not suited for 770 the transaction of business.

Great must be 771 your dread of the birthday of your mistress, and unlucky be that day on which any present must be made. Though you should cleverly avoid her, still she will spoil you; a woman finds contrivances, by means of which to plunder the riches of the eager lover. The loosely-clad pedlar 772 will be coming to your mistress, so fond of buying, and while you are by, will be exposing his wares. She wills ask you to examine them, only that you may appear to be knowing; then she will give you a kiss, and then entreat you to purchase. She will swear that she will be content with this for many a year; she will say that now she has need of it, now it may be bought a bargain. If you shall make the excuse that you have not the money at home to give; a promissory note 773 will be asked for; it would then profit you not to have learned 774 to write. Besides, too; when she asks for a present, as though for the birth-day cake, 775 and is born for her own pleasure as often as she pleases. And further; when, full of tears, she laments her pretended loss, and the jewel 776 is feigned to have fallen from her pierced ear. They ask for many a sum to be lent them; so lent, they have no inclination to return them. You lose the whole; and no thanks are there for your loss. Had I ten mouths, with tongues as many, they would not suffice for me to recount the abominable contrivances of courtesans.

Let the wax that is poured upon the polished tablets first try the ford; let the wax first go as the messenger of your feelings. Let it carry your compliments; and whoever you are, add expressions that feign you to be in love, and entreaties not a few. Achilles, moved with his entreaties, granted Hector to Priam; an angered Divinity is moved by the voice of entreaty. Take care to make promises: for what harm is there in promising? Any person whatever can be rich in promises. Hope, if she is only once cherished, holds out for a long time; she is, indeed, a deceitful Goddess, but still a convenient one. Should you give her 777 anything, you may for that reason be abandoned by her: she will bear off the gift by-gone, and will have lost nothing in return. But that which you have not given, you may always seem as though about to give; thus has the sterile field full oft deceived its owner. So the gambler, in order that he may not lose, does not cease to lose; and the alluring dice ever recall the anxious hand. This is the task, this the labour; to gain her without even the first present. What she has once given, she will always give, that she may not have granted to no purpose. Let the letter go then, and let it be couched in tender expressions; and let it ascertain her feelings, and be the first to feel its way. A letter borne upon an apple 778 deceived Cydippe; and by her own words the fair was unconsciously caught.

Youths of Rome, learn, I recommend you, the liberal arts; and not only that you may defend the trembling accused. Both the public, and the grave judge, and the silent Senate, as well as the fair, conquered by your eloquence, shall extend their hands. 779 But let your power lie concealed: and do not be eloquent at the first. Let your letters avoid difficult words. Who, but one bereft of sense, would declaim before a charming mistress? Full oft has a letter proved a powerful cause for hatred. Let your language be intelligible, and your words the usual ones; but pleasing, so that you may seem to be speaking in person. Should she not accept your letter, and send it back unread, hope that she will read it, and persist in your design. In time the stubborn oxen come beneath the ploughs: in time the steeds are taught to submit to the flowing reins: by continued use the ring of iron 780 is consumed: by being in the ground continually, the crooked plough is worn out. What is there harder than stone? What more yielding than water? Yet hard stones are hollowed out by yielding water. Only persist, and in time you will overcome Penelope herself. You see that Pergamus was taken after a long time; still, it was taken.

If she reads it, and will not write in answer, do not attempt to compel her. Do you only make her to be continually reading your flattering lines. What she has been pleased to read, she will be pleased to answer when read. All these things will come in their turn, and by degrees. Perhaps even, at first, a discouraging letter will come to you; and one that entreats you not to wish to molest her. What she entreats you to do, she dreads; what she does not entreat you to do, namely, to persist, she wishes you to do. Press on; and soon you will be the gainer of your desires. In the meantime, if she shall be carried lying along upon her couch, do you, as though quite by accident, approach the litter of your mistress; and that no one may give a mischievous ear to your words, cunningly conceal, them so far as you can in doubtful signs. If, with sauntering foot, the spacious Portico is paced by her; here, too, do you bestow your leisure in her attendance. And sometimes do you take care to go before; sometimes follow behind; and sometimes be in a hurry, and sometimes walk leisurely. And be not ashamed to pass from the throng under some of the columns, 781 or to walk with her, side by side. And let her not be seated long without you in the curving Theatre; in her shoulders she will bring something for you to be spectator of. Her you may gaze upon, her you may admire; much may you say by your brows, much by your gestures. Clap too, when the actor is dancing 782 in the part of some damsel; and whatever lover is represented, him applaud. Rise when she rises; sit as long as she is seated; employ your time at the caprice of your mistress.

But let it not please you to curl your hair with the irons: 783 and rub not your legs with the rough pumice. 784 Bid those do this, 785 in whose Phrygian notes the Cybeleian Mother is celebrated by their yells. A neglect of beauty becomes men, Theseus bore off the daughter of Minos, though his temples were bedecked by no crisping-pin. Phædra loved Hippolytus, 786 and he was not finely trimmed. Adonis, habituated to the woods, was the care of a Goddess. But let neatness please you; let your body be bronzed on the Plain of Mars: 787 let your robe be well-fitting, and without a spot. Let your tongue, too, not be clammy; 788 your teeth free from yellowness; and let not your foot wallop about, losing itself in the shoe down at heel. Let not the cutting shockingly disfigure your hair bolt upright; let your locks, let your beard be trimmed by a skilful hand. Let your nails, too, not be jagged, and let them be without dirt; and let no hairs project from the cavities of your nostrils. And let not the breath of your ill-smelling mouth be offensive; and let not the husband and the father of the flock 789 offend the nostrils. The rest, allow the luxurious fair to do; and any man that perchance disgracefully seeks to attract another.

Lo! Bacchus calls his own Poet: he, too, aids those who love; and he encourages the flame with which he burns himself. The Gnossian fair was wandering distractedly on the unknown sands, where little Dia is beaten by the ocean waves. And, just as she was on awaking from her sleep, 790 clothed in a loose tunic, with bare feet, and having her yellow hair loose, she was exclaiming to the deaf waves that Theseus was cruel, while the piteous shower of tears was moistening her tender cheeks. She exclaimed, and at the same moment she wept; but both became her, nor was she rendered unsightly by her tears. And now again beating her most beauteous bosom with her hands, she cried—"That perfidious man has gone; what will become of me?"

"What will become of me?" she said; when cymbals resounded over all the shore, and tambourines were beaten with frantic hand. She dropped down with alarm, and stopped short in her closing words; and no blood was there in her lifeless body. See! the Mimallonian females, 791 with their locks flowing on their backs; see! the nimble Satyrs, the throng preceding the God; sec! Silenus, the drunken old man, 792 on his bending ass, sits there with difficulty, and holds fast by the mane that he presses. While he follows the Bacchanals, the Bacchanals both fly and return: while the unskilful rider is goading on his animal with his stick, slipping from the long-eared ass, he tumbles upon his head. The Satyrs cry aloud, "Come, rise up; rise, father!" Now, the God, from his chariot, the top of which he had wreathed with grapes, loosened the golden reins for the tigers yoked to it. Both her complexion, and Theseus, and her voice forsook the fair one; and thrice she attempted flight, and thrice was she detained by fear. She shuddered, just as the barren ears of corn, which the wind shakes; just as the slender reed quivers in the swampy marsh.

To her the Divinity said, "Lo! I come to thee a more constant lover; damsel of Gnossus, lay aside thy fear, the wife of Bacchus shalt thou be. Receive heaven as my gift: a conspicuous Constellation in the heavens, full oft, Cretan Diadem, 793 shalt thou direct the veering bark." Thus he said; and he leapt from the chariot, that she might not be in dread of the tigers; the sand yielded to his foot placed upon it. And folding her in his bosom he bore her off; for to struggle she was unable: how easy 'tis for a God to be able to do anything. Some sing "Hymenæus," some cry "Evie, Evoë!" 794 Thus are the God and his bride united in holy wedlock.

Therefore, when the gifts of Bacchus placed before you fall to your lot, and the fair one shall be a sharer in the convivial couch; pray both to father Nyctelius, and his nocturnal rites, that they will bid the wine not to take effect on your head. Here, in secret discourse, you may say to her many a free word, which she may understand is addressed to her; and you may trace out short compliments with a little wine, so that she may read on the table 795 that she is your favorite; and look on her eyes with eyes that confess your flame; the silent features often have both words and expression. Take care to be the next to seize the cup that has been touched by her lips; and drink from the side 796 that the fair drinks from. And whatever food she shall have touched with her fingers, 797 do you reach for it; and while you are reaching, her hand may be touched by you. Let it also be your object to please the husband of the fair; once made a friend, he will be more serviceable for your designs. If you are drinking by lot, 798 grant him the first turn: let the chaplet, taken from your own head, be presented to him. Whether he is below you, or whether your neighbour, let him help Himself to every thing first; and do not hesitate to speak only after he has spoken. Secure and much frequented is the path, for deceiving through the name of friendship. Secure and much frequented though that path be; still it is to be condemned. For this cause 'tis that the agent attends even too much 799 to his agency, and thinks that more things ought to be looked after by him than those entrusted to him.

A sure rule for drinking shall be given you by me: let both your mind and your feet ever observe their duty. Especially avoid quarrels stimulated by wine, and hands too ready for savage warfare. Eurytion 801 met his death from foolishly quaffing the wine set before him. Banquets and wine are rather suited for pleasant mirth. If you have a voice, sing; if pliant arms, dance; and by whatever talent you can amuse, amuse. As real drunkenness offends, so feigned inebriety will prove of service. Let your deceiving tongue stutter with lisping accents; so that whatever you shall do or say with more freedom than usual, it may be supposed that excess of wine is the cause. And express all good wishes for your mistress; all good wishes for him who shares her couch; but in your silent thoughts pray for curses on her husband. But when, the tables removed, the guests shall be going, (the very crowd will afford you access and room) mix in the throng: and quietly stealing up 802 to her as she walks, twitch her side with your fingers; and touch her foot with your foot.

Now is the time come for some conversation: fly afar hence, coy bashfulness, let Chance and Venus befriend the daring. Let your eloquence not be subject to any laws of mine; only make a beginning, of your own accord you will prove fluent. You must act the lover, and wounds must be feigned in your words. Hence let confidence be sought by you, by means of any contrivances whatever. And 'tis no hard matter to be believed; each woman seems to herself worthy to be loved. Though she be ugly in the extreme, to no one are her own looks displeasing. Yet often, he that pretends to love, begins in reality: full oft he becomes that which in the beginning he feigned to be. For this cause, the rather, O ye fair, be propitious to those who pretend. That passion will become real, which so lately was feigned.

Now be it your part stealthily to captivate her affection by attentions; just as the shelving bank is encroached on by the flowing stream. Be not tired of praising either her face or her hair; her taper fingers too, and her small foot. The praise of their beauty pleases even the chaste; their charms are the care and the pleasure of even maidens. For, why, even now, are Juno and Pallas ashamed at not having gained the decision in the Phrygian groves? The bird of Juno 803 exposes her feathers, when praised; if you look at them in silence, she conceals her treasures. Amid the contests of the rapid course, their trimmed manes, and their patted necks, delight the steeds.

Promise, too, without hesitation: promises attract the fair: make any Gods you please to be witnesses of what you promise. Jupiter, from on high, smiles at the perjuries of lovers, and commands the Æolian South winds to sweep them away as worthless, Jupiter was accustomed to swear falsely to Juno by the Styx: now is he himself indulgent to his own precedent. 'Tis expedient that there should be Gods; 804 and as it is expedient, let us believe them to exist. Let frankincense and wine be presented on their ancient altars. No repose, free from care and similar to sleep, possesses them; live in innocence, for a Divinity is ever present. Restore the pledge; let piety observe her duties; be there no fraud; keep your hands free from bloodshed.

Deceive, if you are wise, the fair alone with Impunity; for this one piece of deceit only is good faith to be disregarded. Deceive the deceivers; in a great measure they are all a guilty race; let them fall into the toils which they have spread. Egypt is said to have been without showers that refresh the fields: and to have been parched during nine years. When Thrasius went to Busiris, 805 and showed that Jupiter could be propitiated by shedding the blood of strangers; to him Busiris said, "Thou shalt become the first sacrifice to Jove, and, a stranger, thou shalt produce rain for Egypt." Phalaris, too, burnt in the bull the limbs of the cruel Perillus; the unhappy inventor was the first to make proof of his work. Each of them was just; and, indeed, no law is there more righteous, than that the contrivers of death should perish by their own contrivances. Therefore, since perjuries with justice impose upon the perjured, let woman grieve, deceived through a precedent her own.

Tears, too, are of utility: by tears you will move adamant. Make her, if you can, to see your moistened cheeks. If tears shall fail you, for indeed they do not always come in time, touch your eyes with your wet hand. What discreet person would not mingle kisses with tender words? Though she should not grant them; still take them ungranted. Perhaps she will struggle at first, and will say, "You naughty man!" still, in her struggling, she will wish to be overcome. Only, let them not, rudely snatched, hurt her tender lips, and take care that she may not be able to complain that they have proved a cause of pain. He who has gained kisses, if he cannot gain the rest as well, will deserve to lose even that which has been granted him. How much is there wanting for unlimited enjoyment after a kiss! Oh shocking! 'twere downright clownishness, and not modesty. Call it violence, if you like; such violence is pleasing to the fair; they often wish, through compulsion, to grant what they are delighted to grant. Whatever fair one has been despoiled by the sudden violence of passion, she is delighted at it; and the chief is as good as a godsend. But she, who, when she might have been carried by storm, has escaped untouched, though, in her features, she should pretend gladness, will really be sorry. Phoebe suffered 806 violence; to her sister was violence offered; and pleasing was either ravisher to the ravished. The damsel of Scyros being united to the Hæmonian hero, is a well-known story indeed, but not unworthy to be related.

Now, the Goddess, worthy to conquer the other two at the foot of mount Ida, had given her reward of the approval of her beauty. Now, from a distant region, had a daughter-in-law come to Priam: and within Ilian walls there was a Grecian wife. All swore in the words of the affronted husband; for the grief of one was the common cause. A disgraceful thing, had he not yielded in this to the entreaties of his mother, Achilles had concealed his manhood by the long garments. What art thou doing, descendant of Æacus? The wool is no task of thine. Do thou seek glory by other arts of Pallas. What hast thou to do with work-baskets? 807 Thy hand is fitted for holding the shield. Why hold the allotted flax in thy right hand, by which Hector shall fall? Spurn those spindles enwrapped in the laborious warp; the lance from Pelion is to be brandished by that hand. By chance in the same chamber there was a royal maiden; in her own undoing she found that he was a male. By force, indeed, was she overcome, so we must believe: but still, by force was she willing to be overcome. Many a time did she say, "Stay," when now Achilles was hastening to depart; for, the distaff laid aside, he had assumed valiant arms. Where now is this violence? Why, with gentle voice, Deidamia, dost thou detain the perpetrator of thy disgrace? As, forsooth, there is shame in first beginning at any time, so 'tis pleasing to the fair to submit, when the other takes the initiative.

Alas! too great is the confidence of any youth in his own good looks, if he awaits for her to be the first to ask him. Let the man make the first approaches; let the man use words of entreaty; she will kindly receive his soft entreaties. To gain your wish, ask; she only wishes to be asked. Tell her the cause and the origin of your desires. Jupiter came as a suppliant to the Heroines of olden times; 808 no fair one found fault with great Jove. But if you perceive puffed-up vanity to be the result of your prayers, desist from your design, and withhold your advances. Many desire that which flies from them, and hate that which is close at hand. By pressing on less eagerly, remove all weariness of yourself. Nor must your hope of enjoyment be always confessed by you as you entreat; let Love make his entrance concealed beneath the name of friendship. By this introduction, I have seen the prudish fair deceived; he who was the friend, became the lover. A fair complexion is unbecoming in a sailor; he ought to be swarthy, from the spray of the sea and the rays of the sun. It is unbecoming, too, to the husbandman, who, with his crooked plough and his heavy harrows, is always turning up the ground in the open air. And if your body is fair, you, by whom the glory of the chaplet of Pallas 809 is sought, you will be unsightly.

Let every one that is in love be pale; that is the proper complexion for one in love. That is becoming; from your features, let the fair think that you are not in good health. Pale with love for Lyrice, 810 did Orion wander in the woods; pale for the Naiad, in her indifference, was Daphnis. 811 Thinness, too, shows the feelings; and think it no disgrace to put a hood over your shining looks. Let sleepless nights attenuate the bodies of the youths; care, too, and the grief that proceeds from violent love. That you may gain your desires, be wretched, that he who sees you may be able to say, "You are in love."

Shall I complain, or only remind you how all right and wrong is confused? Friendship is but a name, constancy an empty title. Alas! alas! it is not safe to praise the object that you love to your friend. When he has credited your praises, he supplants you. But the descendant of Actor did not defile the couch of Achilles; so far as Pirithous was concerned, Phædra was chaste. Pylades 812 loved Hermione, with the affection with which Phoebus loved Pallas; and he was such, daughter of Tyndarus, as thy twin brother Castor was towards thee. If any one expects the same, let him expect that the tamarisks will bear apples, and let him look for honey in the middle of the stream. Nothing pleases but what is base; his own gratification is the object of each. This, too, becomes pleasant from the sorrow of another. Oh disgraceful conduct! no enemy is to be dreaded by the lover. Shun those whom you think trustworthy; then you will be safe. Shun your kinsman, and your brother, and your dear friend; this class will cause you real alarm.

I was here about to conclude; but there are various dispositions in the fair; treat these thousand dispositions in a thousand different ways. The same soil does not produce everything; one suits the vine, another the olive; in this, corn springs up vigorously. There are as many characters in these various dispositions, as there are forms in the world; the man that is wise, will adapt himself to these innumerable characters. And as at one moment Proteus will make himself flow in running water; and now will be a lion, now a tree, now a shaggy goat. These fish are taken with a dart, 813 those with hooks; these the encircling nets draw up, the rope being extended. And let no one method be adopted by you for all years. The aged hind will espy from a greater distance your contrivances. Should you seem learned to the ignorant, or forward to the bashful, she will at once distrust herself, now apprehensive. Thence it happens, that she who has dreaded to trust herself to the well-bred man, often falls into the embrace of some worthless inferior.

A part remains of the task which I have undertaken, a part is completed; here let the anchor, thrown out, hold fast my bark.