Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love: Literally Translated into English Prose, with Copious Notes — John Shaqi
Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love: Literally Translated into English Prose, with Copious NotesOvid
General
Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love: Literally Translated into English Prose, with Copious Notes
Ovid
Latin poetry -- Adaptations; Latin poetry -- Translations into English
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account