Becker says of the Greeks that “The men were very careful as to their
behaviour in the presence of women, but they were _quite strangers to
those minute attentions which constitute the gallantry of the moderns_.”
This holds true apparently of all other nations of antiquity; and to a
student of the history of Love it is therefore of exceeding interest to
find in Ovid’s poetry the first evidences of the existence of
Gallantry—a disposition on the part of the men to sacrifice their own
comfort to the pleasures and whims of women.
Mr. G. A. Simcox was the first writer, so far as I know, who pointed out
Ovid’s priority in this matter (in his _History of Latin Literature_).
In Ovid, he says, “The whole description of gallantry implies that the
idea was a novelty, and that the lover would require a great deal of
encouragement to enable him to make the sacrifice of paying such
attentions as could be commanded from a servant. This throws a new light
on the habit the Augustan poets have of calling their mistress _domina_,
which is more noteworthy, for they call no man _dominus_. One does not
trace the idea at all in Latin comedy, where the heroines are for the
most part _only too thankful to be caressed and protected_. One finds
the word in Lucilius, but even in Catullus it is hardly established.”
Instances of gallant behaviour are not rare in Ovid’s poetry; but the
didactic tone in which they are detailed makes it almost appear as if
the poet were recommending to his countrymen the value of a nice little
discovery of his own which would convert crude love-making into a fine
art. Never be so ungallant—he says in effect, though he does not use the
word—as to refer to a woman’s faults or shortcomings. Compliment her, on
the contrary, on her good points—her face, her hair, her tapering
fingers, her pretty foot. At the circus applaud whatever she applauds.
Adjust her cushion, put the footstool where it ought to be, and keep her
comfortable by fanning her. And at dinner, when she has tasted the wine,
quickly seize the cup and put your lips to the place where she has
sipped.
Unfortunately this morning dawn of Romantic Love, as depicted in the
pages of Ovid, was soon hidden beneath the dark clouds of mediæval
barbarism, not to emerge again till a thousand years later.