The Art of Making Love in Roman Culture, Part 11, How to Be Attentive to Her

The affluence and sophistication of the Roman upper class and their amorous adventures are portrayed in Ovid’s poetry collection “Ars Amatoria.” The collection of poems, comprised of three books, was written in the second century A.D. by the Roman poet Ovid. The wealthy and aristocratic people of that ancient culture placed a high value on hedonistic, refined, and exquisite forms of pleasure. They took great delight in passing the time and entertaining themselves by engaging in love and sexual affairs. The art of making love was one of the cultural values that was held in the highest regard.

Ovid’s love poetry is filled with sage and alluring guidance for both men and women on how to find and keep a lover throughout the course of their love relationship. The first two books gave the reader instructions on how to approach a woman, how to seduce her, and how to make love to her.

In the following centuries, Ovid’s books of “Ars Amatoria” were translated into English as “The Art of Love.” It gained popularity among the upper classes in many other countries. The subsequent generations of educated people and scholars came to recognize the books as being among the greatest works of antique literature.

There are currently two versions of “The Art of Love” that can be accessed through the internet. The earlier one was published in 1885, while the more recent one was published in 2001. In the 19th century, Henry Riley (1816–1878), an English antiquarian and renowned translator of ancient literature, converted the original poetry of these Ovid poems into literal prose. It was first published in 1885 and was reprinted online in 2014.

The modern English poet and translator of ancient works Anthony Kline translated Ovid’s poem “Ars Amatoria” into English poetry. This version was published online in 2001.

In spite of the fact that contemporary people live in a different era and in a different kind of society than ancient Romans did, I believe that they can still find Ovid’s amorous advice fascinating and interesting to read. Because of this, I published some of the articles that include poetic passages taken from these books. A great deal of advice that was once given about how to love is still relevant today and can be of assistance to people who want to learn about love.

Therefore, I’ve posted on this blog several pieces from those remarkable books. They quote Ovid’s advice on… “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), “How to Win Her” (Part 9), and “How to Know the Maid” (Part 10).

Here is Part 11, Teaching a Roman Man How He Should Be Attentive to a Woman.

In particular, remember her birthday!

“It’s a mistake to think that only farmers working the fields,

and sailors, need to keep an eye on the season:

Seed can’t always be trusted to the furrow,

or a hollow ship to the wine-dark sea,

It’s not always safe to capture tender girls:

often the time itself makes for success.

If her birthday’s here, or the April Kalends,

that delight in joining months, Venus’s to Mars,

or if the Circus is decorated, not as before

with clay figurines but with the wealth of kings,

delay the thing: then winter’s harsh, the Pleiades are here,

then the tender Kid is merged with the ocean wave:

it’s best to hold off then: then he who trusts the deep,

can scarcely save the wreckage of his mangled boat.

It’s fine to start on that day of tears when the Allia

flowed with the blood poured from Roman wounds,

or when the Sabbath day returns, the holy day

of the Syrian Jews, less suitable for buying things.

Let your mistress’s birthday be one of great terror to you:

that’s a black day when anything has to be given.

However much you avoid it, she’ll still win: it’s

a woman’s skill, to strip wealth from an ardent lover.

A loose-robed pedlar comes to your lady: she likes to buy:

and explains his prices while you’re sitting there.

She’ll ask you to look, because you know what to look for:

then kiss you: then ask you to buy her something there.

She swears that she’ll be happy with it, for years,

but she needs it now, now the price is right.

If you say you haven’t the money in the house, she’ll ask

for a note of hand – and you’re sorry you learnt to write.

Why – she asks doesn’t she for money as if it’s her birthday,

just for the cake, and how often it is her birthday, if she’s in need?

Why – she weeps doesn’t she, mournfully, for a sham loss,

that imaginary gem that fell from her pierced ear?

They many times ask for gifts, they never give in return:

you lose, and you’ll get no thanks for your loss.

And ten mouths with as many tongues wouldn’t be enough for me to describe the wicked tricks of whores.”

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