What was
becoming
to Phoebus, to whom
is it not becoming?
is it not becoming?
Ovid - Art of Love
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 AEacus? 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, Phaedra 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.
BOOK THE SECOND.
|Sing, "Io Paean" [901] and "Io Paean" twice sing; the prey that was sought
has fallen into our toils. Let the joyous lover present my lines with
the verdant palm; to _Hesiod_ the Ascraean and to _Homer_ the Maeonian
old man shall I be preferred. Such did the stranger son of Priam set his
whitening sails from the armed Amyclae, [902] together with the ravished
wife. Such was he who bore thee, Hippodamia, in his victorious chariot,
carried by the wheels of the stranger. Why hasten then, young man?
Thy ship is sailing in the midst of the waves; and far distant is the
harbour for which I make. It is not enough, me your Poet, for the fair
to be gained by you. Through my skill has she been acquired; through my
skill must she be retained. 'Tis no less merit to keep what is acquired,
than to gain it. In the former there is some chance; in the latter will
be a work of art.
Now, if ever, Boy _Cupid_ and Cytherea, be propitious _to me_: now,
Erato; [903] for thou hast a name from Love. Great attempts do I
contemplate; to tell by what means Love can be arrested, the Boy that
wanders over the world so wide. He is both inconstant, and he has two
wings with which to fly. 'Tis an arduous task to impose laws on these.
Minos had obstructed all means of escape to the stranger. He discovered
a bold path [904] with his wings. When Daedalus had enclosed the man
half-bull, and the bull half-man, that was conceived in the criminality
of his mother; he said, "Most just Minos, let there be a termination of
my exile; and let my paternal land receive my ashes. And since, harassed
by the cruel Destinies, I cannot live in my country, let me be enabled
to die. If the merits of an old man are but small, grant a return to
this boy; if thou art unwilling to favour the boy, then favour the old
man. " This he said: but both this and many more things he might have
said; the other did not permit a return to the hero. Soon as he saw
this, he said, "Now, O now, Daedalus, thou hast a subject, upon which
thou mayst prove ingenious. Lo! Minos possesses the land, and he
possesses the ocean; neither earth nor water is open for our escape;
there remains a path through the heavens; through the heavens will we
attempt to go. Jupiter on high, grant pardon to my design. I do not aim
to reach the starry abodes; there is no way but this one, by which I may
escape the tyrant. Should a road through Styx be granted; then we will
swim through the Stygian waves; let the laws of nature be changed
by me. " _Misfortunes often sharpen the genius_; who could have ever
believed, that a mortal could attempt the paths of the air?
He arranges swift feathers in order, like oars, [905] and connects the
light work with fastenings of thread; the lower part, too, is bound
together with wax, melted by the fire; and now the work of the new
contrivance is finished. The smiling boy handles both the wax and the
feathers, not knowing that these instruments are prepared for his own
shoulders. To him his father says: "With these ships must we reach our
native land; by these means must we escape from Minos. The air Minos
could not, all else he has, shut against us. Cleave the air, which still
thou mayst, with these my inventions. But neither the virgin of Tegeaea,
nor the sword-bearing Orion, [906] the companion of Bootes, will have
to be beheld by thee. Follow me with the wings given to thee: I will go
before on the way. Be it thy care to follow; me thy leader, thou wilt he
safe. But if we shall go through the air of the heavens, the sun close
to us, the wax will not be able to endure the heat. If we shall wave
our wings below, the sea near to us, the fluttering feathers will be wet
with the ocean spray. Fly between them both; dread, too, the winds,
my son; and whichever way the breezes shall blow, set thy prospering
sails. "
While he thus advises; he fits his work on to the boy, and shows how it
is to be moved; just as their mother teaches the helpless birds. Then he
places upon his shoulders the wings made for himself; and with timidity
he poises his body along this new track. And now about to fly, he gives
kisses to his little son; and the cheeks of the father do not withhold
their tears. There is a hill, less than a mountain, more lofty than
the level plain; hence are their two bodies entrusted to their mournful
flight. Daedalus both moves his own wings himself, and looks back on
those of his son; and he ever keeps on his own course. And now this
unusual path delights him, and, fear laid aside, Icarus flies more
courageously with emboldened skill. A person sees them, while he is
angling [907] for fish with his quivering rod, and his right hand
desists from the work he has commenced. Now Samos and Naxos had been
left behind, on the left hand, and Paros, and Delos beloved by the
Clarian God. [908] Lebynthos was to the right, and Calymne [909] shaded
with its woods, and Astypalaea, [910] surrounded with its fishy shallows;
when the boy, too venturesome in his inconsiderate daring, took a higher
flight, and forsook his guide.
The fastenings give way; and the wax melts, the Divinity being so near;
and his arms, when moved, no longer catch the light breeze. Alarmed, he
looks down upon the sea from the lofty heavens; darkness, arising from
trembling apprehension, comes over his eyes. The wax has now melted;
he waves his bare arms, and he trembles, and has no means whereby to
be supported. Downward he falls; and as he falls, he cries, "Father! O
father! I am undone! " As he spoke, the azure waves closed his mouth. But
the unhappy father, a father now no longer, cried aloud, "Icarus, where
art thou? Or under what part of the sky dost thou fly? "
"Icarus," again he cried aloud; his feathers he beheld in the waves. The
dry land covers his bones; the sea retains his name.
Minos could not restrain the wings of a mortal; I myself am attempting
to arrest a winged Divinity. If any one has recourse to the Haemonian
arts, and gives that which he has torn from the forehead of the young
horse, [911] he is mistaken. The herbs of Medea will not cause love to
endure; nor yet the Marsian spells [912] mingled with the magic notes.
The Phasian damsel would have retained the son of AEson, Circe Ulysses,
if love could only have been preserved through incantations. Philtres,
too, causing paleness, [913] are of no use when administered to the
fair. Philtres injure the intellect, and have a maddening effect.
Afar be all criminal attempts; to be loved, be worthy to be loved; _a
property_ which comeliness, or beauty alone, will not confer upon you.
Though you should be Nireus, [914] be praised by ancient Homer, and the
charming Hylas, [915] carried off by the criminality of the Naiads;
that you may retain your mistress, and not have to wonder that you
are deserted, add the endowments of the mind to the advantages of the
person. Beauty is a fleeting advantage; and the more it increases in
years, the less it becomes, and, itself, is consumed by length of time.
Neither the violets nor the opening lilies bloom for ever; and, the roses
lost, the thorny bush is prickly left behind. And, handsome man, soon
shall come to you the hoary locks; soon shall come the wrinkles, to
furrow your body over. Now form a disposition which may be lasting, and
add it to your beauty; that alone endures to the closing pile. And be it
no light care to cultivate the mind with the liberal arts, and to learn
thoroughly the two languages, _the Latin and the Greek_. Ulysses was
not handsome, but he was fluent; and yet with love he racked the ocean
Goddesses. [916] Ah! how oft did Calypso grieve at his hastening to
depart, and declare that the waves were not favorable to his oars! Again
and again did she enquire into the catastrophe of Troy. Often in another
manner was he wont to repeat the same thing. On the shore they were
standing; even there did the beauteous Calypso enquire about the
blood-stained death of the Odrysian chief.
With a little stick, for by chance he was holding a stick, he depicted
on the firm shore the subject on which she was enquiring. "This is
Troy," said he; and the walls he drew on the shore; "This must be Simois
for thee, and suppose these to be my tents. There was a plain," and here
he drew the plain, "which we moistened with the blood of Dolon, [917]
while, as a spy, he was longing for the Haemonian horses. [918] There
were the tents of the Sithonian Rhesus; in this direction was I borne
back again by the captured steeds. " And many other things was he
depicting, when the waves suddenly carried off both Pergamus and the
tents of Rhesus together with their chief. Then the Goddess said, "Dost
thou behold how famous names these waves have swept away, which thou
dost trust will be favorable to thee about to depart? "
Come then, with hesitation, feel confidence in beauty so deceiving,
whoever you are; or else possess something of more value than
comeliness. A beseeming courtesy especially enlists the feelings;
rudeness and harsh language promote hatred. We dislike the hawk, because
it is always living in warfare; the wolves too, that are wont to rush
upon the startled flocks. But the swallow, because it is gentle, is
exempt from the snares of men; and the Chaonian bird [919] has the
turrets for it to inhabit.
Afar lie all strife and contentions of the abusive tongue; with sweet
words must gentle love be cherished. With strife let both wives
persecute their husbands, and husbands their wives; and, each in their
turn, let them ever be thinking that they must resort to law. [920] This
is the part of wives; strife is the dowry of the wife. Let the mistress
ever hear the accents that she longs for. At the bidding of no law have
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 Hylaeus;
[923] but yet there was another bow still more felt than this.
I do not bid you, in arms, to climb the woods of Maenalus, 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 Pherae, 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
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. Demophoon, 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
doors; believe that she is gone out of doors, and that you make a
mistake in your seeing. Is the door shut against you on the appointed
night; endure even to lay your body on the dirty ground. Perhaps, too,
the lying maid will say with a haughty air, "Why is that fellow blocking
up our door? " Suppliantly entreat even the door-posts of the obdurate
fair; and place at the door the roses that have been taken from off your
head. [963] Come when she desires it; when she shall shun you, you'll go
away. It is not becoming for men of good breeding to cause weariness of
their company. Why should your mistress be able to say of you, "There
is no getting rid of this man? " The senses [964] are not on the alert at
all hours. And deem it no disgrace to put up with the curses of the fair
one, or her blows, nor yet to give kisses to her delicate feet.
But why dwell upon trifles? Let my mind be occupied with greater
subjects. Of great matters will I sing; people, give all attention. I
attempt an arduous task, but merit there is none, but what is secured by
arduous means. By my undertaking are laborious attempts required. Endure
a rival with patience; the victory will rest with yourself; you will be
the conqueror on the heights of mighty Jove. [965] Believe that not a
mortal tells you this, but the Pelasgian oaks of Dodona: my skill has
nothing superior to this to teach you. Does she make a sign to him, do
you put up with it; does she write, don't you touch the tablets; let her
come from whatever place she likes; and wherever she chooses, let her
go. This do husbands allow to their lawful wives; even, too, when thou,
gentle sleep, [966] dost come to thy duty. I confess, that in this art I
myself am not yet perfect. What must I do? I am myself unequal to my
own precepts. And is any one in my presence to be making signs to my
mistress? And am I to endure it? And is not my anger to hurry me away to
any extreme? Her own husband [967] (I remember it well) gave her a kiss;
I complained of kisses being given; my love is brimful of fierceness.
Not once alone has this failing proved an injury to me; he is more
skilful, by whose encouragement other men visit [968] his mistress. But
'tis still better to know nothing of it. Allow stealthy intrigues to lie
concealed, lest the blush of confession should fly in future from her
countenance when detected.
With greater reason then, ye youths, forbear to detect your mistresses.
Let them be guilty; and guilty, let them suppose that they have deceived
you. When detected, the passion increases; when the fortune of the two
is the same, each persists in the cause of the disgrace. There is a
story told, very well known in all the heavens, how Mars and Venus [969]
were caught by the contrivance of Mulciber. Father Mars, distracted by
a frantic passion for Venus, from a terrible warrior, became a lover.
Neither did Venus (for, indeed, no Goddess is there more kind) proved
coy or stubborn to Gradivus. O how many a time is she said, in her
wantonness, to have laughed at the feet of her husband, and at his
hands, hardened with the fire or his handicraft. In the presence of
Mars, mocking him, she imitated her husband, and she was beauteous _even
while so doing_; and many a grace was there combined with her charms.
But they were in the habit of skilfully concealing their early
intercourse; and their frailty was replete with modest propriety.
Through the information of the Sun (who is there that can deceive the
Sun? ), the actions of his wife became known to Vulcan. Thou Sun, what a
bad example thou art setting! Ask a bribe of her; and shouldst thou hold
thy tongue, she has a favour which she may grant to thee.
Around and above the bed, Muleiber disposes the hidden toils; the work,
by its fineness, escapes their eyes. He pretends a journey to Lemnos;
the lovers come, according to the appointment; entangled in the toils,
they both lie naked. He calls the Gods together; the captives afford a
spectacle. People believe that Venus could hardly restrain her tears.
They cannot conceal their faces; they cannot, in fact, veil their
modesty with their hands. Upon this, one says, laughing, [970] "Transfer
to me thy chains, most valiant Mavors, if they are a burden to thee. "
With difficulty, Neptune, at thy entreaty, does he release their
captured bodies. Mars makes for Thrace, [971] and she for Paphos.
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 AEacus? 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, Phaedra 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.
BOOK THE SECOND.
|Sing, "Io Paean" [901] and "Io Paean" twice sing; the prey that was sought
has fallen into our toils. Let the joyous lover present my lines with
the verdant palm; to _Hesiod_ the Ascraean and to _Homer_ the Maeonian
old man shall I be preferred. Such did the stranger son of Priam set his
whitening sails from the armed Amyclae, [902] together with the ravished
wife. Such was he who bore thee, Hippodamia, in his victorious chariot,
carried by the wheels of the stranger. Why hasten then, young man?
Thy ship is sailing in the midst of the waves; and far distant is the
harbour for which I make. It is not enough, me your Poet, for the fair
to be gained by you. Through my skill has she been acquired; through my
skill must she be retained. 'Tis no less merit to keep what is acquired,
than to gain it. In the former there is some chance; in the latter will
be a work of art.
Now, if ever, Boy _Cupid_ and Cytherea, be propitious _to me_: now,
Erato; [903] for thou hast a name from Love. Great attempts do I
contemplate; to tell by what means Love can be arrested, the Boy that
wanders over the world so wide. He is both inconstant, and he has two
wings with which to fly. 'Tis an arduous task to impose laws on these.
Minos had obstructed all means of escape to the stranger. He discovered
a bold path [904] with his wings. When Daedalus had enclosed the man
half-bull, and the bull half-man, that was conceived in the criminality
of his mother; he said, "Most just Minos, let there be a termination of
my exile; and let my paternal land receive my ashes. And since, harassed
by the cruel Destinies, I cannot live in my country, let me be enabled
to die. If the merits of an old man are but small, grant a return to
this boy; if thou art unwilling to favour the boy, then favour the old
man. " This he said: but both this and many more things he might have
said; the other did not permit a return to the hero. Soon as he saw
this, he said, "Now, O now, Daedalus, thou hast a subject, upon which
thou mayst prove ingenious. Lo! Minos possesses the land, and he
possesses the ocean; neither earth nor water is open for our escape;
there remains a path through the heavens; through the heavens will we
attempt to go. Jupiter on high, grant pardon to my design. I do not aim
to reach the starry abodes; there is no way but this one, by which I may
escape the tyrant. Should a road through Styx be granted; then we will
swim through the Stygian waves; let the laws of nature be changed
by me. " _Misfortunes often sharpen the genius_; who could have ever
believed, that a mortal could attempt the paths of the air?
He arranges swift feathers in order, like oars, [905] and connects the
light work with fastenings of thread; the lower part, too, is bound
together with wax, melted by the fire; and now the work of the new
contrivance is finished. The smiling boy handles both the wax and the
feathers, not knowing that these instruments are prepared for his own
shoulders. To him his father says: "With these ships must we reach our
native land; by these means must we escape from Minos. The air Minos
could not, all else he has, shut against us. Cleave the air, which still
thou mayst, with these my inventions. But neither the virgin of Tegeaea,
nor the sword-bearing Orion, [906] the companion of Bootes, will have
to be beheld by thee. Follow me with the wings given to thee: I will go
before on the way. Be it thy care to follow; me thy leader, thou wilt he
safe. But if we shall go through the air of the heavens, the sun close
to us, the wax will not be able to endure the heat. If we shall wave
our wings below, the sea near to us, the fluttering feathers will be wet
with the ocean spray. Fly between them both; dread, too, the winds,
my son; and whichever way the breezes shall blow, set thy prospering
sails. "
While he thus advises; he fits his work on to the boy, and shows how it
is to be moved; just as their mother teaches the helpless birds. Then he
places upon his shoulders the wings made for himself; and with timidity
he poises his body along this new track. And now about to fly, he gives
kisses to his little son; and the cheeks of the father do not withhold
their tears. There is a hill, less than a mountain, more lofty than
the level plain; hence are their two bodies entrusted to their mournful
flight. Daedalus both moves his own wings himself, and looks back on
those of his son; and he ever keeps on his own course. And now this
unusual path delights him, and, fear laid aside, Icarus flies more
courageously with emboldened skill. A person sees them, while he is
angling [907] for fish with his quivering rod, and his right hand
desists from the work he has commenced. Now Samos and Naxos had been
left behind, on the left hand, and Paros, and Delos beloved by the
Clarian God. [908] Lebynthos was to the right, and Calymne [909] shaded
with its woods, and Astypalaea, [910] surrounded with its fishy shallows;
when the boy, too venturesome in his inconsiderate daring, took a higher
flight, and forsook his guide.
The fastenings give way; and the wax melts, the Divinity being so near;
and his arms, when moved, no longer catch the light breeze. Alarmed, he
looks down upon the sea from the lofty heavens; darkness, arising from
trembling apprehension, comes over his eyes. The wax has now melted;
he waves his bare arms, and he trembles, and has no means whereby to
be supported. Downward he falls; and as he falls, he cries, "Father! O
father! I am undone! " As he spoke, the azure waves closed his mouth. But
the unhappy father, a father now no longer, cried aloud, "Icarus, where
art thou? Or under what part of the sky dost thou fly? "
"Icarus," again he cried aloud; his feathers he beheld in the waves. The
dry land covers his bones; the sea retains his name.
Minos could not restrain the wings of a mortal; I myself am attempting
to arrest a winged Divinity. If any one has recourse to the Haemonian
arts, and gives that which he has torn from the forehead of the young
horse, [911] he is mistaken. The herbs of Medea will not cause love to
endure; nor yet the Marsian spells [912] mingled with the magic notes.
The Phasian damsel would have retained the son of AEson, Circe Ulysses,
if love could only have been preserved through incantations. Philtres,
too, causing paleness, [913] are of no use when administered to the
fair. Philtres injure the intellect, and have a maddening effect.
Afar be all criminal attempts; to be loved, be worthy to be loved; _a
property_ which comeliness, or beauty alone, will not confer upon you.
Though you should be Nireus, [914] be praised by ancient Homer, and the
charming Hylas, [915] carried off by the criminality of the Naiads;
that you may retain your mistress, and not have to wonder that you
are deserted, add the endowments of the mind to the advantages of the
person. Beauty is a fleeting advantage; and the more it increases in
years, the less it becomes, and, itself, is consumed by length of time.
Neither the violets nor the opening lilies bloom for ever; and, the roses
lost, the thorny bush is prickly left behind. And, handsome man, soon
shall come to you the hoary locks; soon shall come the wrinkles, to
furrow your body over. Now form a disposition which may be lasting, and
add it to your beauty; that alone endures to the closing pile. And be it
no light care to cultivate the mind with the liberal arts, and to learn
thoroughly the two languages, _the Latin and the Greek_. Ulysses was
not handsome, but he was fluent; and yet with love he racked the ocean
Goddesses. [916] Ah! how oft did Calypso grieve at his hastening to
depart, and declare that the waves were not favorable to his oars! Again
and again did she enquire into the catastrophe of Troy. Often in another
manner was he wont to repeat the same thing. On the shore they were
standing; even there did the beauteous Calypso enquire about the
blood-stained death of the Odrysian chief.
With a little stick, for by chance he was holding a stick, he depicted
on the firm shore the subject on which she was enquiring. "This is
Troy," said he; and the walls he drew on the shore; "This must be Simois
for thee, and suppose these to be my tents. There was a plain," and here
he drew the plain, "which we moistened with the blood of Dolon, [917]
while, as a spy, he was longing for the Haemonian horses. [918] There
were the tents of the Sithonian Rhesus; in this direction was I borne
back again by the captured steeds. " And many other things was he
depicting, when the waves suddenly carried off both Pergamus and the
tents of Rhesus together with their chief. Then the Goddess said, "Dost
thou behold how famous names these waves have swept away, which thou
dost trust will be favorable to thee about to depart? "
Come then, with hesitation, feel confidence in beauty so deceiving,
whoever you are; or else possess something of more value than
comeliness. A beseeming courtesy especially enlists the feelings;
rudeness and harsh language promote hatred. We dislike the hawk, because
it is always living in warfare; the wolves too, that are wont to rush
upon the startled flocks. But the swallow, because it is gentle, is
exempt from the snares of men; and the Chaonian bird [919] has the
turrets for it to inhabit.
Afar lie all strife and contentions of the abusive tongue; with sweet
words must gentle love be cherished. With strife let both wives
persecute their husbands, and husbands their wives; and, each in their
turn, let them ever be thinking that they must resort to law. [920] This
is the part of wives; strife is the dowry of the wife. Let the mistress
ever hear the accents that she longs for. At the bidding of no law have
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 Hylaeus;
[923] but yet there was another bow still more felt than this.
I do not bid you, in arms, to climb the woods of Maenalus, 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 Pherae, 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
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. Demophoon, 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
doors; believe that she is gone out of doors, and that you make a
mistake in your seeing. Is the door shut against you on the appointed
night; endure even to lay your body on the dirty ground. Perhaps, too,
the lying maid will say with a haughty air, "Why is that fellow blocking
up our door? " Suppliantly entreat even the door-posts of the obdurate
fair; and place at the door the roses that have been taken from off your
head. [963] Come when she desires it; when she shall shun you, you'll go
away. It is not becoming for men of good breeding to cause weariness of
their company. Why should your mistress be able to say of you, "There
is no getting rid of this man? " The senses [964] are not on the alert at
all hours. And deem it no disgrace to put up with the curses of the fair
one, or her blows, nor yet to give kisses to her delicate feet.
But why dwell upon trifles? Let my mind be occupied with greater
subjects. Of great matters will I sing; people, give all attention. I
attempt an arduous task, but merit there is none, but what is secured by
arduous means. By my undertaking are laborious attempts required. Endure
a rival with patience; the victory will rest with yourself; you will be
the conqueror on the heights of mighty Jove. [965] Believe that not a
mortal tells you this, but the Pelasgian oaks of Dodona: my skill has
nothing superior to this to teach you. Does she make a sign to him, do
you put up with it; does she write, don't you touch the tablets; let her
come from whatever place she likes; and wherever she chooses, let her
go. This do husbands allow to their lawful wives; even, too, when thou,
gentle sleep, [966] dost come to thy duty. I confess, that in this art I
myself am not yet perfect. What must I do? I am myself unequal to my
own precepts. And is any one in my presence to be making signs to my
mistress? And am I to endure it? And is not my anger to hurry me away to
any extreme? Her own husband [967] (I remember it well) gave her a kiss;
I complained of kisses being given; my love is brimful of fierceness.
Not once alone has this failing proved an injury to me; he is more
skilful, by whose encouragement other men visit [968] his mistress. But
'tis still better to know nothing of it. Allow stealthy intrigues to lie
concealed, lest the blush of confession should fly in future from her
countenance when detected.
With greater reason then, ye youths, forbear to detect your mistresses.
Let them be guilty; and guilty, let them suppose that they have deceived
you. When detected, the passion increases; when the fortune of the two
is the same, each persists in the cause of the disgrace. There is a
story told, very well known in all the heavens, how Mars and Venus [969]
were caught by the contrivance of Mulciber. Father Mars, distracted by
a frantic passion for Venus, from a terrible warrior, became a lover.
Neither did Venus (for, indeed, no Goddess is there more kind) proved
coy or stubborn to Gradivus. O how many a time is she said, in her
wantonness, to have laughed at the feet of her husband, and at his
hands, hardened with the fire or his handicraft. In the presence of
Mars, mocking him, she imitated her husband, and she was beauteous _even
while so doing_; and many a grace was there combined with her charms.
But they were in the habit of skilfully concealing their early
intercourse; and their frailty was replete with modest propriety.
Through the information of the Sun (who is there that can deceive the
Sun? ), the actions of his wife became known to Vulcan. Thou Sun, what a
bad example thou art setting! Ask a bribe of her; and shouldst thou hold
thy tongue, she has a favour which she may grant to thee.
Around and above the bed, Muleiber disposes the hidden toils; the work,
by its fineness, escapes their eyes. He pretends a journey to Lemnos;
the lovers come, according to the appointment; entangled in the toils,
they both lie naked. He calls the Gods together; the captives afford a
spectacle. People believe that Venus could hardly restrain her tears.
They cannot conceal their faces; they cannot, in fact, veil their
modesty with their hands. Upon this, one says, laughing, [970] "Transfer
to me thy chains, most valiant Mavors, if they are a burden to thee. "
With difficulty, Neptune, at thy entreaty, does he release their
captured bodies. Mars makes for Thrace, [971] and she for Paphos.
