Welcome to issue #10 of Love Is a Rhythmical Art! (If you’re a newcomer, feel free to check out the archive. What, you haven’t registered? Do it now.) Today’s text is a short one, and so is my introduction—because we’ll need to save room for the next issue and the longer mythical tale it tells.

For now, Ovid suggests a few ways of getting close to your beloved as well as a few ways to look (and smell) good. Whether she’s being carried around in a litter, taking a stroll in one of Rome’s porticoes, or watching a play in the theater, your job is clear: get yourself next to her and strike up a conversation.

Ovid also offers some fascinating advice on how men should groom themselves. Moderation is the goal; take care of yourself, but not too much care. Ovid praises several tastefully disheveled men of myth, like Theseus and Adonis (they’ve been updated in my translation), and he encourages his contemporaries not to overdo it. Yes, it’s a good idea to shave your armpits, but your legs? How unmanly! Nose hair, bad breath, and body odor are to be avoided, for sure—and no, the ancient Romans didn’t smoke, but my modern Ovid asks them to avoid it as well. Go farther than that, though, and you cross the boundaries of proper gender expression.

When you reach the end of today’s issue, you may wonder about the final line of text. If you do, keep in mind that ancient Roman men were generally unperturbed with masculine desire for adolescent boys—but grown men who desired each other were objects of scorn. (And what does Ovid say about men who desire adolescent boys? Stay tuned for Book 2.)

(For those of you following along in the original Latin, here are lines 487-524 of Book 1.)

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So you’ve made the first contact.  What then?
If a litter and eight burly men
   Is the way she leaves home
   When she travels in Rome,
Sidle up to the door of her den.

You can talk then, but hardly in private.
Don’t brandish your passion; contrive it.
   That your point not give rise
   To distaste or surprise,
Home is not where I urge you to drive it.

If she strolls in some great colonnade,
Let her progress be subtly delayed
   As you equal her gait
   (Whether little or great)
And form a two-person parade.

There’s no better place than the theater
For aiming a glance that is free at her
   And applauding the sight
   When the lovers unite
And he hurls his most amorous plea at her.

Whether taking or leaving her seat,
Her behavior’s a thing you’ll repeat.
   Is it wasting your time
   When your actions all rhyme?
Perhaps; but such actions are sweet.

But don’t torture your hair into curls,
And accept no leg-waxing referrals.
   Men shouldn’t—unless
   They no longer possess
What distinguishes them from the girls.

No guy needs a comb in his pocket.
A mirror? A real man will mock it!
   Most women would swoon
   Over rough Daniel Boone,
And ladies adored Davy Crockett.

To strengthen your vigor and vim,
Make regular trips to the gym.
   As your shoes and your boots,
   So the cut of your suits
Should be tasteful and tailored and trim.

Proper care is the thing to devote
To the hairs on your head and your throat.
   Keep your fingernails clean;
   Avoid nicotine;
Don’t smell like a randy old goat.

Let your teeth appear perfectly pearly;
Let your nostrils show nothing that’s curly.
   (All fancier games
   Can be left to the dames
Or the men who want men who are girly.)

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In the next issue: Theseus, Ariadne, and Dionysus. It’s quite a story. Stay tuned.