Ars Amatoria; or, The Art Of Love: Literally Translated into English Prose, with Copious Notes · Ovid
Part 6
Chapter 6 of 8 · 14 min read
Even still would they have been ignorant, but Cytherea commanded me to instruct them, and stood, herself, before my eyes. Then to me she said, "Why have the unfortunate fair deserved this? An unarmed multitude is handed over to the men in arms. Two treatises have rendered them skilful; this side, as well, must be instructed by thy advice. He who before had uttered reproaches against the wife from Therapnæ, soon sang her praises to a more fortunate lyre. If well I know thee, injure not the fair whom thou dost adore; their favour must be sought by thee so long as thou shalt live."
Thus she said; and from the myrtle (for she was standing with her locks wreathed with myrtle) she gave me a leaf and a few berries. Receiving them, I was sensible of the divine influence as well; the sky shone with greater brightness, and all care departed from my breast. While she inspires my genius; hence receive the precepts, ye fair, which propriety, and the laws, and your own privileges, allow you. Even now, be mindful of old age, that one day will come; then will no time be passed by you in idleness. Disport yourselves, while yet you may, and while even now you confess to your true years; after the manner of the flowing stream, do the years pass by. Neither shall the water which has past by, be ever recalled; nor can the hour which has past, ever return. You must employ your youthful age; with swift step age is gliding on; and that which follows, is not so pleasing as that which having passed was charming. Those brakes, which are withering, I have beheld as beds of violets; from amid those brambles, has a beauteous chaplet been gathered for myself.
The time will be, when you, who are now shutting out a lover, will be lying, an old woman, chilled in the lonely night. No door of yours will be broken open in the broils of the night; nor will you find in the morning your threshold bestrewed with roses. How soon, ah me! are our bodies pursed with wrinkles, and that colour which existed in the beauteous face, fades away! The grey hairs, too, which you might have sworn that you had had from childhood, will suddenly be sprinkled over all your head. Old age is thrown off by serpents, together with the light slough; and the shedding of their horns makes the stags not to be old. Our advantages fly irretrievably; pluck the flowers then; if they be not plucked, they will lamentably fade themselves to your sorrow. Besides, child-bearing makes the hours of youth more short-lived; with continual crops the soil waxes old.
Endymion of Latmus, O Moon, causes not thee to blush; nor was Cephalus a prey for the rosy Goddess to be ashamed of. Though Adonis be allowed to Venus, whom she yet laments; whence had she Æneas and Hermione for her children? Follow, O race of mortals, the example of the Goddesses; and refuse not your endearments to the eager men. Even should they deceive you, what do you lose? All remains the same. Were a thousand to partake thereof, nothing is wasted thereby. Iron is worn away, stones are consumed by use; your persons are proof against all apprehension of detriment. Who would forbid light to be taken from another light presented? Or who, on the deep sea, would hoard up the expanse of waters? "But 'tis not right," you say, "for any woman to grant favours to a man." Tell me, what are you losing but the water, which you may take up again? Nor are my words urging you to prostitution; but they are forbidding you to fear evils that do not exist: your favours are exempt from loss to yourselves.
But while I am in harbour, let a gentle breeze impel me, destined to sail with the blasts of a stronger gale. I begin with dress: from the well-dressed vine Bacchus has birth; and in the well-dressed field the high corn springs up. Beauty is the gift of the Divinity; how many a one prides herself on her beauty? Still, a great part of you is wanting in such endowments. Care will confer charms; charms neglected will perish, even though she be like the Idalian Goddess. If the fair of olden times did not pay such attention to their persons; neither had the ancients men so well-dressed. If Andromache was clad in a coarse tunic, what wonder is it? She was the wife of a hardy soldier. And would his companion, forsooth, come bedecked to Ajax, him whose covering was seven hides of oxen. Formerly a rustic simplicity existed: now gorgeous Rome possesses the wealth of the subdued earth. See the Capitol, what it now is and what it was, you would declare that they belonged to different Jupiters. The Senate-house, which is now right worthy of an assemblage so august, when Tatius held the sway, was made of straw. The fields of the Palatine hill, which are now resplendent in honour of Phoebus and our rulers, what were they but pastures for the oxen that ploughed?
Let old times delight others: I congratulate myself that I am born thus late; this is the age that is suited to my tastes. Not because the pliable gold is now dug out of the earth, and choice shells come here from foreign shores; nor yet because, the marble cut out, mountains diminish; nor yet because the azure waves are kept out by the moles. But because civilization prevails; and because the rude manners that flourished with our ancient forefathers have not come down to our days.
But do not you as well load your ears with precious stones, which the tawny Indian seeks in the green waves. And do not go forth heavily loaded with clothes embroidered with gold: by the wealth through which you seek to attract us, you often drive us away. By neatness we are captivated; let not your hair be without arrangement; the hands applied to it both give beauty and deny it. The method, too, of adorning is not a single one; let each choose the one that is becoming it to her, and let her first consult her mirror. An oval face becomes a parting upon the unadorned head: Laodamia had her hair thus arranged. Round features require a little knot to be left for them on the top of the head, so that the ears may be exposed. Let the hair of another he thrown over either shoulder. In such guise art thou, tuneful Phoebus, thy lyre being assumed. Let another Lave her hair tied behind after the manner of well-girt Diana, as she is wont when she hunts the scared wild beasts. It becomes another to have her floating locks to flow loosely: another must be bound by fillets over her fastened tresses. Another it delights to be adorned with the figure of the tortoise of the Cyllenian God: let another keep up her curls that resemble the waves.
But neither will you count the acorns on the branching native oak, nor how many bees there are in Hybla, nor how many wild beasts on the Alps: nor am I able to comprehend in numbers so many modes; each successive day brings a new fashion. Even neglected locks are becoming to many; often would you suppose that they are lying neglected since yesterday; the very moment before they have been combed afresh. Let art imitate chance. 'Twas thus that, in the captured city, when Hercules beheld Iole; "Her," said he, "do I love." In such guise, deserted fair one of Gnossus, did Bacchus bear thee away in his chariot, while the Satyrs shouted Evôe! O how indulgent is nature to your beauty, whose blemishes can be atoned for in fashions so numerous! We men, to our misfortune, become bald; and our hair, carried away by time, falls off, like Boreas shaking down the leaves.
The female stains her grey hair with the herbs from Germany; and by art a colour is sought superior to the genuine one. The female walks along, thickly covered with purchased hair; and for money she makes that of others—here comes those of fair complexion: black became the laughter of Brises.
Nor is she ashamed to buy it openly: we see it being sold before the eyes of Hercules and the Virgin throng.
What am I to say on clothing? Gold flounces, I have no need of you; nor you, the wool which dost blush twice dipt in Tyrian purple. Since so many colours can be procured at a lower price, what folly it is to be carrying a fortune on one's person. Lo! there is the colour of the sky, at the time when the sky is without clouds, and the warm South wind is not summoning the showers of rain. Lo! there is the colour like to thee, that art said once to have borne away Phryxus and Helle from the treachery of Ino. That which resembles the waves, has its name, too, from the waves; I could imagine that the Nymphs are clad in vestments of this colour. Another resembles saffron; in saffron-coloured garments is the dewy Goddess dressed,when she yokes her steeds that bear the light of day. Another resembles the Paphian myrtles; another the purple amethysts, or the white roses, or the Thracian crane. Neither are there wanting, Amaryllis, thy chesnuts, nor yet almonds; and wax has given its own name to woollen textures.
As many as the flowers which the renewed earth produces, when in warm spring the vine puts forth its buds, and sluggish winter retreats; so many, or still more, shades of dye does the wool imbibe. Choose them by rule; for every colour will not be suitable to every complexion.
When she was carried off, then, too, was she clothed in a dark garment. White befits the swarthy; in white, daughter of Cepheus, thou wast charming; by thee, thus clothed, was Seriphos trodden.
How nearly was I recommending you that there should be no shocking goat in the armpits, and that your legs should not be rough with harsh hair. But I am not instructing fair ones from the crags of Caucasus, and who are drinking, Mysian Caïcus, of thy waves. Besides; need I to recommend that idleness should not blacken your teeth, and that your mouth ought to be washed each morning with water used for the purpose. You know, too, how to find whiteness in an application of wax; she who is blushing with no real blood, is blushing by the aid of art. With skill do you fill up the bared edges of the eye-brows, and the little patch covers your cheeks in all their genuineness. 'Tis no harm, too, to mark the eyes slightly with ashes; or with saffron, produced, beauteous Cydnus, near to thee. I have a little treatise, but through the care bestowed, a great work, in which I have mentioned the various recipes for your beauty. From that as well, do you seek aid for your diminished charms: my skill is not idle in behalf of your interests.
But let not your lover discover the boxes exposed upon the table; art, by its concealment only, gives aid to beauty. Whom would not the paint disgust, besmeared all over your face, when, through its own weight, it flows and falls upon your heated bosom? Why is the smell of the oesypum so powerful, sent from Athens though it be, an extract drawn from the filthy fleece of the sheep? Nor would I recommend you in his presence to apply the mixture of the marrow of the deer, nor before him to clean your teeth. These things will give you good looks, but they will be unbecoming to be seen; there are many things, too, which, disgusting while being done, add charms when done. The statues which now bear the name of the laborious Myron, were once a sluggish weight and a solid mass. That the ring may be made, the gold is first beaten; the clothes, that you are wearing, were once dirty wool. While it was being wrought, it was hard stone; now, as a beautiful statue, naked Venus is wringing the moisture from her dripping locks.
You, too, while you are dressing, let us suppose to be asleep; after the finishing hand, you will be seen much more àpropos. Why is the cause of the fairness of your complexion known to me? Shut the door of your chamber, why expose the work half done? It is proper for the men to be in ignorance of many a thing. The greatest part of things would cause disgust, if you were not to conceal what is within. Examine the gilded statues which hang in the decorated theatre; how thin the tinsel that covers the wood. But it is not permitted the public to approach them unless completed; neither ought your charms to be heightened unless the men are at a distance. But I would not forbid you to allow your hair to be combed in their presence, so that it may be flowing along your back. Only take care especially on such occasions not to be cross; and do not many times undo your hair, pulled down, when fastened up. Let your coiffeuse be with a whole skin. I detest her who tears the face of her attendant with her nails, and who, seizing the hair-pin, pierces her arms. As she touches the head of her mistress, she curses it; and at the same time, streaming with blood, she is crying over the odious locks.
The fair one that has but little hair, let her set a watch on her threshold; or let her always make her toilet in the temple of the Good Goddess. I was unexpectedly announced as having paid a visit to a certain lady; in her confusion, she put on her locks the wrong side before. May a cause of shame so disgraceful fall to the lot of my foes, and may that dishonour happen to the Parthian dames. A mutilated animal is repulsive, the fields without grass are repulsive; and so is a shrub without foliage, and a head without hair. You have not come to be instructed by me, Semele, or Leda, thou, too, Sidonian fair, who wast borne across the sea upon the fictitious bull; or Helen, whom, Menelaus, not without reason, thou didst demand to be restored to thee, and whom, not without reason, thou Trojan ravisher, didst retain. A multitude comes to be instructed, both pretty and ugly damsels; and the unsightly are ever more in number than the good-looking. The beauteous care less for the resources and the precepts of art; they have their own endowments, charms that are powerful without art. When the sea is calm, the sailor rests free from care; when it becomes boisterous, he appeals to his own resources.
Few, however, are the forms free from defect. Conceal your blemishes; and, so far as you can, hide the imperfections of your person. If you are short, sit down; that, while standing, you may not appear to be sitting; and if of a diminutive size, throw yourself upon your couch. Here, too, that your measure may not be able to be taken as you lie, take care that your feet are concealed with the clothes thrown over them. She who is too thin, let her wear clothes of thick texture; and let her vestments hang loosely from her shoulders. Let her who is pale, tint her complexion with purple stripes; do you that are more swarthy, have recourse to the aid of the Pharian fish. Let an ill-shaped foot be always concealed in a boot of snow-white leather steeped in alum; and do not unloose their laced sandals from the spindly legs. For high shoulders, small pads are suitable; and let the girth encircle the bosom that is too prominent. She whose fingers are dumpy, and whose nails are rough, should mark with but little gesture whatever is said. She, whose breath is strong smelling, should never talk with an empty stomach; and she should always stand at a distance from her lover's face.
If your teeth are black, or large, or not, growing straight, you will suffer very great inconvenience from laughing. Who could have supposed it? The fair take lessons even in laughing; and even in that respect is gracefulness studied by them. Let your mouth be but moderately open; let the dimples on either side he but small; and let the extremity of the lips cover the upper part of the teeth. And do not let your sides be shaking with prolonged laughter; but let them utter sounds gentle and feminine, to I know not what degree. Some there are, who distort their face with an unsightly grin; another, when she is joyous in her laughter, you would take to be crying. Another makes a harsh noise, and screams in a disagreeable manner; just as the unsightly she-ass brays by the rough mill-stone.
To what point does not art proceed? Some study how to weep with grace, and cry at what time and in what manner they please. Nay, further; when the letters are deprived of their full sound, and the lisping tongue becomes contracted with an affected pronunciation; then is grace sought in an imperfection; to pronounce certain words badly, they learn to be less able to speak than they really are. To all these points, since they are of consequence, give attention. Learn how to walk with steps suited to a female. Even in the gait, there are certain points of gracefulness not to be disregarded; this both attracts and repels men who are strange to you. This fair one moves her sides with skill, and with her flowing tunics catches the breeze, and haughtily moves her extended feet. Another walks just like the redfaced spouse of some Umbrian husband, and, straddling, takes huge strides. But, as in many other things, let there be a medium here as well; one movement is clownish; another movement will be too mincing in its gait. But let the lower part of your shoulders, and the upper part of your arm be bare, to be beheld from your left hand upwards. This is especially becoming to you, ye of fair complexion; when I see this, I have always a longing to give a kiss to the shoulder, where it is exposed.
The Sirens were monsters of the deep, which with their tuneful voices detained the ships, even though in full career. On hearing them, the son of Sisyphus almost released his body from the mast; for the wax was melted in the ears of his companions. The voice is an insinuating quality; let the fair learn how to sing. In place of beauty, her voice has proved the recommendation of many a woman. And sometimes let them repeat what they have heard in the marble theatres; and sometimes the songs attuned to the measures of the Nile. Neither, in my way of thinking, ought a clever woman to be ignorant how to hold the plectrum in her right hand, the lyre in her left. Orpheus of Rhodope with his lyre moved rocks, and wild beasts, and the lakes of Tartarus, and Cerberus the triple dog. At thy singing, most righteous avenger of thy mother, the attentive stones built up the walls. The fish, (the well-known story of the lyre of Arion, although he was dumb, is supposed to have been moved by his voice. Learn, too, to sweep the chords of the festive psaltery with your two hands; 'tis an instrument suited to amorous lays.
Let the songs of Callimachus be known to you, let those of the poet of Cos, let the Teian Muse too, of the drunken old bard. Let Sappho, too, be well known; for what is there more exciting than she? Or than him, through whom the father is deceived by the tricks of the crafty Geta? You may, too, have read the poems of the tender Propertius, or something of Gallus, or thy works, Tibullus. The fleece, too, so bewailed, O Phryxus, of thy sister, shining with its yellow hair, celebrated by Varro. The exiled Æneas, as well, the first origin of lofty Rome, than which no work exists in Latium of greater fame.
Perhaps, too, my name will be mingled among these, and my writings will not be consigned to the waters of Lethe. And people will one day say, "Read the elegant lines of our master, in which he instructs the two sides. Or of his three books, which the title designates as, 'The Amours,' choose a portion to read with skilful lips, in a languishing way. Or let his Epistles be repeated by you with well-modulated voice; this kind of composition, unknown to others, did he invent." O Phoebus, mayst thou so will it; so too, ye benignant Divinities of the Poets, Bacchus, graceful with thy horns, and you, ye nine Goddesses!



