The three books of poetry called “Ars Amatoria,” written by the Roman poet Ovid in the second century A.D., depict the luxury and sophisticated lives of the wealthy upper class in classical Rome. Affluent people of that historic culture appreciated elegant, beautiful, and hedonistic pleasures. They enjoyed passing time and entertaining themselves with love and sex. The art of love was one of the most cherished cultural values.

Ovid, in his verses on love, presents charming, sage, and occasionally amusing advice for both men and women on how to attract and keep a lover. In the books, readers learned how to approach, seduce, and make love to a woman.

In the centuries that followed, “Ars Amatoria” was translated into English as “The Art of Love” and became well-known among the educated upper classes in other cultures and cultural contexts. The books went to be regarded as literary classics by lovers and academics alike.

The two translations of “The Art of Love” are currently available on the web. One is from 1885 and another from 2001.

In 1885, Ovid’s poems were translated into literal prose, not their original poetry.

In 2001, English poet Anthony Kline translated poems from Ovid’s “Ars Amatoria.”

I think that even though modern people live in another epoch and a different kind of society than the ancient Roman culture, they can still find these books from that time period interesting and fascinating to read. This is why I decided to post several articles with excerpts from those books. Quite a few fragments from these remarkable books have been reproduced in other articles that I’ve posted about… “What Is His Task” (Part 1), “How to Find Her” (Part 2), “Search for Love While Walking” (Part 3), “Search for Love while at the Theatre” (Part 4), “Search for Love at the Races or Circus” (Part 5), “Triumphs that Are Good to Attract a Woman” (Part 6), “Search for Love around the Dinner-Table and on the Beach” (Parts 7 and 8), and “How to Win Her” (Part 9).

Here is Part 10, Teaching the Men of Roman Culture How They Can Get to Know the Maid

“But to get to know your desired-one’s maid

is your first care: she’ll smooth your way.

See if she’s close to her mistress’s thoughts,

and has plenty of true knowledge of her secret jests.

Corrupt her with promises, and with prayers:

you’ll easily get what you want, if she wishes.

She’ll tell the time (the doctors would know it too)

when her mistress’s mind is receptive, fit for love.

Her mind will be fit for love when she luxuriates

in fertility, like the crop on some rich soil.

When hearts are glad, and nothing sad constrains them,

they’re open: Venus steals in then with seductive art.

So Troy was defended with sorrowful conflict:

in joy, the Horse, pregnant with soldiers, was received.

She’s also to be tried when she’s wounded, pained by a rival:

make it your task then to see that she’s avenged.

The maid can rouse her, when she combs her hair in the morning,

and add her oar to the work of your sails,

and, sighing to herself in a low murmur, say:

‘But I doubt that you’ll be able to make her pay.’

Then she should speak of you, and add persuasive words,

and swear you’re dying, crazed with love.

But hurry, lest the sails fall and the breeze dies:

anger melts away, with time, like fragile ice.

You ask perhaps if one should take the maid herself?

Such a plan brings the greatest risk with it.

In one case, fresh from bed, she’ll get busy, in another be tardy,

in one case you’re a prize for her mistress, in the other herself.

There’s chance in it: even if it favours the idea,

my advice nevertheless is to abstain.

I don’t pick my way over sharp peaks and precipices,

no youth will be caught out being lead by me.

Still, while she’s giving and taking messages,

if her body pleases you as much as her zeal,

make the lady your first priority, her companion the next:

Love should never be begun with a servant.

I warn you of this, if art’s skill is to be believed,

and don’t let the wind blow my words out to sea:

follow the thing through or don’t attempt it:

she’ll endure the whispers once she’s guilty herself.

It’s no help if the bird escapes when its wings are limed:

it’s no good if the boar gets free from a loosened net.

Hold fast to the stricken fish you’ve caught on the hook:

press home the attempt, don’t leave off till you’ve won.

She’ll not give you away, sharing the guilt for the crime,

and you’ll know whatever your lady’s done, and said.

But hide it well: if the informer’s well hidden, you’ll always secretly know your mistress’s mind.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

Ovid, the Roman poet of the second century A.D., is famous for writing “Ars Amatoria”—a set of three books of poems depicting the adventurous lives of the privileged Roman upper class in antiquity. They liked hedonistic pleasures, comfort, elegance, and the excitement of making love to pass the time.

Through Ovid’s verses on love, he wrote beautiful, wise, sometimes witty guidance for men and women alike on how to find and keep a lover. In the books, readers learn how to approach, seduce, and make love with a partner in amorous affairs.

In the following centuries, “Ars Amatoria” gained popularity among educated people in other countries when it was translated into English as “The Art of Love.” The books went on to become literary classics that love scholars frequently refer to.

“The Art of Love” of 1885 presented literal prose translations of Ovid’s poems rather than the original poetry. In 2001, English poet Anthony Kline translated his version of poems from Ovid’s “Ars Amatoria.”

I believe that modern men and women can still find these ancient Roman books fascinating even though they live in a new kind of society different from ancient Roman culture. Several pieces from these interesting books have been taken and reproduced in other articles that I’ve written about… “What Is His Task” (Part 1), “How to Find Her” (Part 2), “Search for Love While Walking” (Part 3), “Search for Love while at the Theatre” (Part 4), “Search for Love at the Races or Circus” (Part 5), “Triumphs that Are Good to Attract a Woman” (Part 6), “Search for Love around the Dinner-Table and on the Beach” (Parts 7 and 8).

Here is Part 9, Telling Roman Men How to Win Her Love

“So far, riding her unequal wheels, the Muse has taught you

where you might choose your love, where to set your nets.

Now I’ll undertake to tell you what pleases her,

by what arts she’s caught, itself a work of highest art.

Whoever you are, lovers everywhere, attend, with humble minds,

and you, masses, show you support me: use your thumbs.

First let faith enter into your mind: every one of them

can be won: you’ll win her, if you only set your snares.

Birds will sooner be silent in the Spring, cicadas in summer,

an Arcadian hound turn his back on a hare,

than a woman refuse a young man’s flattering words:

Even she you might think dislikes it, will like it.

Secret love’s just as pleasing to women as men.

Men pretend badly: she hides her desire.

If it was proper for men not to be the first to ask,

woman’s role would be to take the part of the asker.

The cow lows to the bull in gentle pastures:

the mare whinnies to the hoofed stallion.

Desire in us is milder and less frantic:

the male fire has its lawful limits.

Remember Byblis, who burned with incestuous love,

for her brother, and bravely punished herself with the noose?

Myrrha loved her father, but not as a daughter should,

and then was hidden by the covering bark:

oozing those tears, that pour from the tree as fragrance,

and whose droplets take their name from the girl.

Once, in the shady valleys of wooded Ida

there was a white bull, glory of the herd,

one small black mark set between his horns:

it the sole blemish, the rest was milky-white.

The heifers of Cnossos and Cydon longed

to have him mount up on their backs.

Pasiphae joyed in adultery with the bull:

she hated the handsome heifers with jealousy.

I sing what is well-known: not even Crete, the hundred-citied,

can deny it, however much Cretans lie.

They say that, with unpractised hands, she plucked

fresh leaves and tenderest grasses for the bull.

She went as one of the herd, unhindered by any care

for that husband of hers: Minos was ousted by a bull.

Why put on your finest clothes, Pasiphae?

Your lover can appreciate none of your wealth.

Why have a mirror with you, when you seek highland cattle?

Why continually smooth your hair, you foolish woman?

But believe the mirror that denies you’re a heifer.

How you wish that brow of yours could bear horns!

If you’d please Minos, don’t seek out adulterers:

If you want to cheat your husband, cheat with a man!

The queen left her marriage bed for woods and fields,

like a Maenad roused by the Boeotian god, they say.

Ah, how often, with angry face, she spied a cow,

and said: ‘Now, how can she please my lord?

Look, how she frisks before him in the tender grass:

doubtless the foolish thing thinks that she’s lovely.’

She spoke, and straightaway had her led from the vast herd,

the innocent thing dragged under the arching yoke,

or felled before the altar, forced to be a false sacrifice,

and, delighted, held her rival’s entrails in her hand.

The number of times she killed rivals to please the gods,

and said, holding the entrails: ‘Go, and please him for me!’

Now she claims to be Io, and now Europa,

one who’s a heifer, the other borne by the bull.

Yet he filled her, the king of the herd, deceived

by a wooden cow, and their offspring betrayed its breeding.

If Cretan Aerope had spurned Thyestes’s love

(and isn’t it hard to forego even one man?),

the Sun would not have veered from his course mid-way,

and turned back his chariot and horses towards Dawn.

The daughter who savaged Nisus’s purple lock

presses rabid dogs down with her thighs and groin.

Agamemnon who escaped Mars on land, Neptune at sea,

became the victim of his murderous wife.

Who would not weep at Corinthian Creusa’s flames,

and that mother bloodstained by her children’s murder?

Phoenix, Amyntor’s son wept out of sightless eyes:

Hippolytus was torn by his fear-maddened horses.

Phineus , why blind your innocent sons?

That punishment will return on your own head.

All these things were driven by woman’s lust:

it’s more fierce than ours, and more frenzied.

So, on, and never hesitate in hoping for any woman:

there’s hardly one among them who’ll deny you.

Whether they give or not, they’re delighted to be asked:

And even if you fail, you’ll escape unharmed.

But why fail, when there’s pleasure in new delights

and the more foreign the more they capture the heart?

The seed’s often more fertile in foreign fields, and a neighbour’s herd always has richer milk.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

The three books of “Ars Amatoria” were composed by the Roman poet Ovid around the second century A.D. It was a popular collection of poems depicting the life of the ancient Roman aristocracy. The books demonstrate that the wealthy of the Roman Empire once lived in elegance and comfort. They enjoyed entertaining themselves with hedonistic pleasures and the adventures of making love.

Beautiful and insightful advice for men and women alike on how to search for and retain a lover can be found throughout Ovid’s verses on love, which he wrote. The books educate readers on how to pursue, entice, and make love with a partner in an amorous relationship.

Later on, “Ars Amatoria” was translated into English as “The Art of Love” and quickly rose to prominence among educated individuals in other nations. The books became literary classics, frequently cited by scholars who study love. When they were translated into English in 1885, they were literal prose translations, not the original poetry.

In 2001, Anthony Kline, an English poet and translator, translated his version of these Ovid’s books.

I think that even though modern men and women live in different cultures, they can still find these old Roman books interesting. Several passages from these books have been taken and reproduced in other articles that I’ve written about… “What Is His Task” (Part 1), “How to Find Her” (Part 2), “Search for Love While Walking” (Part 3), “Search for Love while at the Theatre” (Part 4), “Search for Love at the Races or Circus” (Part 5), “Triumphs that Are Good to Attract a Woman”(Part 6).

Here is Part 7, telling Roman men how… Look for Love around the Dinner-Table

“The table laid for a feast also gives you an opening:

There’s something more than wine you can look for there.

Often rosy Love has clasped Bacchus’s horns,

drawing him to his gentle arms, as he lay there.

And when wine has soaked Cupid’s drunken wings,

he’s stayed, weighed down, a captive of the place.

It’s true he quickly shakes out his damp feathers:

though still the heart that’s sprinkled by love is hurt.

Wine rouses courage and is fit for passion:

care flies, and deep drinking dilutes it.

Then laughter comes, the poor man dons the horns,

then pain and sorrow leave, and wrinkled brows.

Then what’s rarest in our age appears to our minds,

Simplicity: all art dispelled by the god.

Often at that time girls captivated men’s wits,

and Venus was in the vine, flame in the fire.

Don’t trust the treacherous lamplight overmuch:

night and wine can harm your view of beauty.

Paris saw the goddesses in the light, a cloudless heaven,

when he said to Venus: ‘Venus, you win, over them both.’

Faults are hidden at night: every blemish is forgiven,

and the hour makes whichever girl you like beautiful.

Judge jewellery, and fabric stained with purple, judge a face, or a figure, in the light.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

Here is Part 8, Telling Roman Men how… Look for Love on the Beach

“Why enumerate every female meeting place fit for the hunter?

The grains of sand give way before the number.

Why speak of Baiae, its shore splendid with sails,

where the waters steam with sulphurous heat?

Here one returning, his heart wounded, said:

‘That water’s not as healthy as they claim.’

Behold the suburban woodland temple of Diana,

and the kingdom murder rules with guilty hand.

She, who is virgin, who hates Cupid’s darts, gives people many wounds, has many to give.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

The three books of “Ars Amatoria” were written around the 2nd century A.D. by the Roman poet Ovid. It was a popular collection of poems portraying the life of the aristocracy in ancient Roman culture. The books show that the wealthy people in the Roman Empire used to live in style and comfort. They liked to entertain themselves with hedonistic pleasures and amorous adventures.

Ovid’s beautiful verses about love are full of good and smart advice for both men and women about how to find and keep a partner. The books teach how to seduce and treat someone in a love relationship.

Centuries later, “Ars Amatoria” was translated into English as “The Art of Love” and became well-known by educated people in other countries. The books also became classics of writing, often cited by scholars who study love. When they were translated into English in 1885, it was just a literal translation into prose, rather than the original poetry.

 In 2001, English poet and translator Anthony Kline translated these books of Ovid again.

I believe the book written many centuries ago in Roman culture can still be interesting for modern men and women despite differences in cultural contexts.

Several excerpts from these books were published in my other articles about… “What Is His Task” (Part 1), “How to Find Her” (Part 2), “Search for Love While Walking” (Part 3), “Search for Love while at the Theatre” (Part 4), “Search for Love at the Races or Circus” (Part 5).

Here is Part 6, telling Roman men how…

Triumphs Can Be an Excellent Way to Attract a Woman! 

“Behold, now Caesar’s planning to add to our rule

what’s left of earth: now the far East will be ours.

Parthia , we’ll have vengeance: Crassus’s bust will cheer,

and those standards wickedly laid low by barbarians.

The avenger’s here, the leader, proclaimed, of tender years,

and a boy wages war’s un-boy-like agenda.

Cowards, don’t count the birthdays of the gods:

a Caesar’s courage flowers before its time.

Divine genius grows faster than its years,

and suffers as harmful evils the cowardly delays.

Hercules was a child when he crushed two serpents

in both his hands, already worthy of Jupiter in his cradle.

How old were you, Bacchus, who are still a boy,

when conquered India trembled to your rod?

Your father’s years and powers arm you, boy,

and with your father’s powers and years you’ll win:

though your first beginnings must be in debt to such a name,

now prince of the young, but one day prince of the old:

Your brothers are with you, avenge your brothers’ wounds:

your father is with you, keep your father’s laws.

Your and your country’s father endowed you with arms:

the enemy stole his kingship from an unwilling parent:

You hold a pious shaft, he a wicked arrow:

Justice and piety stick to your standard.

Let Parthia’s cause be lost: and their armies:

let my leader add Eastern wealth to Latium.

Both your fathers, Mars and Caesar, grant you power:

Through you one is a god, and one will be.

See, I augur your triumph: I’ll reply with a votive song,

and you’ll be greatly celebrated on my lips.

You’ll stand and exhort your troops with my words:

O let my words not lack your courage!

I’ll speak of Parthian backs and Roman fronts,

and shafts the enemy hurl from flying horses.

If you flee, to win, Parthia, what’s left for you in defeat?

Mars already has your evil eye.

So the day will be, when you, beautiful one,

golden, will go by, drawn by four snowy horses.

The generals will go before you, necks weighed down with chains,

lest they flee to safety as they did before.

The happy crowd of youths and girls will watch,

that day will gladden every heart.

And if she, among them, asks the name of a king,

what place, what mountains, and what stream’s displayed,

you can reply to all, and more if she asks:

and what you don’t know, reply as memory prompts.

That’s Euphrates, his brow crowned with reeds:

that’ll be Tigris with the long green hair.

I make those Armenians, that’s Persia’s Danaan crown:

that was a town in the hills of Achaemenia.

Him and him, they’re generals: and say what names they have, if you can, the true ones, if not the most fitting.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

The trilogy “Ars Amatoria,” or “The Art of Love,” by Roman poet Ovid is well-known among educated people and scholars studying love. The books show how the aristocracy in the ancient Roman Empire lived a life of sophisticated style and pleasure.

The author’s beautiful words about love are full of good and clever advice for men about how to look for a woman and for women about how to keep a man. The books also teach the art of amorous seduction and intrigue.

I think that some of his ideas are still useful and would be interesting for you to know.

When Ovid’s books were translated into English in 1885, they were translated literally into prose instead of poetry. When their most recent translation of the books came out in 2001, these were poetic translations of verses. I posted some excerpts from those in my earlier articles about… “What Is His Task” (Part 1), “How to Find Her” (Part 2), “Search for Love While Walking” (Part 3), “Search for Love while at the Theatre” (Part 4).

Here is Part 5, telling Roman men and women how to…

Search for Love While at the Races or the Circus

“Don’t forget the races, those noble stallions:

the Circus holds room for a vast obliging crowd.

No need here for fingers to give secret messages,

nor a nod of the head to tell you she accepts:

You can sit by your lady: nothing’s forbidden,

press your thigh to hers, as you can do, all the time:

and it’s good the rows force you close, even if you don’t like it,

since the girl is touched through the rules of the place.

Now find your reason for friendly conversation,

and first of all engage in casual talk.

Make earnest enquiry whose those horses are:

and rush to back her favourite, whatever it is.

When the crowded procession of ivory gods goes by,

you clap fervently for Lady Venus:

if by chance a speck of dust falls in the girl’s lap,

as it may, let it be flicked away by your fingers:

and if there’s nothing, flick away the nothing:

let anything be a reason for you to serve her.

If her skirt is trailing too near the ground,

lift it, and raise it carefully from the dusty earth:

Straightaway, the prize for service, if she allows it,

is that your eyes catch a glimpse of her legs.

Don’t forget to look at who’s sitting behind you,

that he doesn’t press her sweet back with his knee.

Small things please light minds: it’s very helpful

to puff up her cushion with a dextrous touch.

And it’s good to raise a breeze with a light fan,

and set a hollow stool beneath her tender feet.

And the Circus brings assistance to new love,

and the scattered sand of the gladiator’s ring.

Venus’ boy often fights in that sand,

and who see wounds, themselves receive a wound.

While talking, touching hands, checking the programme,

and asking, having bet, which one will win,

wounded he groans, and feels the winged dart,

and himself becomes a part of the show he sees.

When, lately, Caesar, in mock naval battle,

exhibited the Greek and Persian fleets,

surely young men and girls came from either coast,

and all the peoples of the world were in the City?

Who did not find one he might love in that crowd? Ah, how many were tortured by an alien love!”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

Ovid’s trilogy “Ars Amatoria,” or The Art of Love, is well-known among love scholars for depicting the hedonistic and refined lifestyle of the aristocracy in the ancient Roman Empire at the time.

The poetic words of the author offer smart love advice to men and women in their loving affairs. Some of his suggestions, I believe, are still relevant today and would be interesting for you to learn.

In 1885, the English translation of Ovid’s books included a literal prose translation rather than the original poetry. Their most recent translation and publication, in 2001, made their poetic translation available.

Ovid Suggested “Search while you’re at the Theatre”

“But hunt for them, especially, at the tiered theatre:

that place is the most fruitful for your needs.

There you’ll find one to love, or one you can play with,

one to be with just once, or one you might wish to keep.

As ants return home often in long processions,

carrying their favourite food in their mouths,

or as the bees buzz through the flowers and thyme,

among their pastures and fragrant chosen meadows,

so our fashionable ladies crowd to the famous shows:

my choice is often constrained by such richness.

They come to see, they come to be seen as well:

the place is fatal to chaste modesty.

These shows were first made troublesome by Romulus,

when the raped Sabines delighted unmarried men.

Then no awnings hung from the marble theatre,

the stage wasn’t stained with saffron perfumes:

Then what the shady Palatine provided, leaves

simply placed, was all the artless scene:

The audience sat on tiers made from turf,

and covered their shaggy hair, as best they could, with leaves.

They watched, and each with his eye observed the girl

he wanted, and trembled greatly in his silent heart.

While, to the measure of the homely Etruscan flute,

the dancer, with triple beat, struck the levelled earth,

amongst the applause (applause that was never artful then)

the king gave the watched-for signal for the rape.

They sprang up straightaway, showing their intent by shouting,

and eagerly took possession of the women.

As doves flee the eagle, in a frightened crowd,

as the new-born lamb runs from the hostile wolf:

so they fled in panic from the lawless men,

and not one showed the colour she had before.

Now they all fear as one, but not with one face of fear:

Some tear their hair: some sit there, all will lost:

one mourns silently, another cries for her mother in vain:

one moans, one faints: one stays, while that one runs:

the captive girls were led away, a joyful prize,

and many made even fear itself look fitting.

Whoever showed too much fight, and denied her lover,

he held her clasped high to his loving heart,

and said to her: ‘Why mar your tender cheeks with tears?

as your father to your mother, I’ll be to you.’

Romulus, alone, knew what was fitting for soldiers:

I’ll be a soldier, if you give me what suits me.

From that I suppose came the theatres’ usual customs:

now too they remain a snare for the beautiful.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

In other posts, I quoted some excerpts from the first, second, and the third parts of the book.

The Roman poet Ovid is well-known among love scholars for his trilogy “Ars Amatoria” or The Art of Love. The three books of Ars Amatoria show the hedonistic and sophisticated life of the Roman aristocracy of that time.

His poetic words give clever love advice to men and women in their amorous relationships. I believe some of his advice can be relevant today and can be interesting to learn.

In 1885, the English translation of Ovid’s books included a literal prose translation rather than the original poetry. Their most recent translation and publication, in 2001, made their poetic translation available.

Ovid Suggested “Search while you’re out Walking”

“Just walk slowly under Pompey’s shady colonnade,

when the sun’s in Leo, on the back of Hercules’s lion:

or where Octavia added to her dead son Marcellus’s gifts,

with those rich works of foreign marble.

Don’t miss the Portico that takes its name

from Livia its creator, full of old masters:

or where the daring Danaids prepare to murder their poor husbands,

and their fierce father stands, with out-stretched sword.

And don’t forget the shrine of Adonis, Venus wept for,

and the sacred Sabbath rites of the Syrian Jews.

Don’t skip the Memphite temple of the linen-clad heifer:

she makes many a girl what she herself was to Jove.

And the law-courts (who’d believe it?) they suit love:

a flame is often found in the noisy courts:

where the Appian waters pulse into the air,

from under Venus’s temple, made of marble,

there the lawyer’s often caught by love,

and he who guides others, fails to guide himself:

in that place of eloquence often his words desert him,

and a new case starts, his own cause is the brief.

There Venus, from her neighbouring temples, laughs:

he, who was once the counsel, now wants to be the client.”

Kline, A. S. (2001). Translation of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria: The Art of Love.

In other posts, I quoted some excerpts from the first, second, and the next fourth parts of the book.