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
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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