Amores I.9

Every lover is a soldier, and Cupid has a camp of his own; Atticus, believe me, every lover is a soldier. The age that is meet for the wars is also suited to Venus. 'Tis unseemly for the old man to soldier, unseemly for the old man to love. The spirit that captains seek in the valiant soldier is the same the fair maid seeks in the man who mates with her. Both wake through the night; on the ground each takes his rest — the one guards his mistress's door, the other his captain's. The soldier's duty takes him a long road; send but his love before, and the strenuous lover, too, will follow without end. He will climb opposing mountains and cross rivers doubled by pouring rain, he will tread the high-piled snows, and when about to ride the seas he will not prate of swollen East-winds and look for fit stars ere sweeping the waters with his oar. Who but either soldier or lover will bear alike the cold of night and the snows mingled with dense rain? The one is sent to scout the dangerous foe; the other keeps eyes upon his rival as on a foeman. The one besieges mighty towns, the other the threshold of an unyielding mistress; the other breaks in doors, the one, gates.

Oft hath it proven well to rush on the enemy sunk in sleep, and to slay with armed hand the unarmed rout. Thus fell the lines of Thracian Rhesus, a and you, O captured steeds, left your lord behind. Oft lovers, too, take vantage of the husband's slumber, and bestir their own weapons while the enemy lies asleep. To pass through companies of guards and bands of sentinels is ever the task both of soldier and wretched lover. Mars is doubtful, and Venus, too, not sure; the vanquished rise again, and they fall you would say could never be brought low.

Then whoso hath called love spiritless, let him cease. Love is for the soul ready for any proof. Aflame is great Achilles for Briseis taken away men of Troy, crush while ye may, the Argive strength! Hector from Andromache's embrace went forth to arms, and 'twas his wife that set the helmet on his head. The greatest of captains, Atreus' son, they say, stood rapt at sight of Priam's daughter, Maenad-like with her streaming hair.

Mars, too, was caught, and felt the bonds of the smith; no tale was better known in heaven. For myself, my bent was all to dally in ungirt idleness; my couch and the shade h had made my temper mild. Love for a beautiful girl has started me from craven ways and bidden me take service in her camp. For this you see me full of action, and waging the wars of night. Whoso would not lose all his spirit, let him love!