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.