_He tells Atticus that like the soldier, the lover ought to be on his
guard and that Love is a species of warfare._
|Every lover is a soldier, and Cupid has a camp of his own; believe me,
Atticus, [138] every lover is a soldier. The age which is fitted for
war, is suited to love as well. For an old man to be a soldier, is
shocking; amorousness in an old man is shocking. The years which [139]
generals require in the valiant soldier, the same does the charming fair
require in her husband. Both _soldier and lover_ pass sleepless nights;
both rest upon the ground. The one watches at the door of his mistress;
but the other _at that_ of his general. [140] Long marches are the duty
of the soldier; send the fair _far_ away, _and_ the lover will boldly
follow her, without a limit _to his endurance_. Over opposing mountains
will he go, and rivers swollen with rains; the accumulating snows will
he pace.
About to plough the waves, he will not reproach the stormy East winds;
nor will he watch for Constellations favourable for scudding over the
waves. Who, except either the soldier or the lover, will submit to both
the chill of the night, and the snows mingled with the heavy showers?
The one is sent as a spy against the hostile foe; the other keeps
his eye on his rival, as though upon an enemy. The one lays siege to
stubborn cities, the other to the threshold of his obdurate mistress:
the one bursts open gates, and the other, doors. [142] Full oft has it
answered to attack the enemy when buried in sleep; and to slaughter an
unarmed multitude with armed hand. Thus did the fierce troops of the
Thracian Rhesus [143] fall; and you, captured steeds, forsook your lord.
Full oft do lovers take advantage of the sleep of husbands, and brandish
their arms against the slumbering foe. To escape the troops of the
sentinels, and the bands of the patrol, is the part _both_ of the
soldier, and of the lover always in misery. Mars is wayward, and Venus
is uncertain; both the conquered rise again, and those fall whom you
would say could never possibly be prostrate.
Whoever, then, has pronounced Love _mere_ slothfulness, let him cease
_to love_: [144] to the discerning mind does Love belong. The mighty
Achilles is inflamed by the captive Briseis. Trojans, while you may,
destroy the Argive resources. Hector used to go to battle _fresh_ from
the embraces of Andromache; and it was his wife who placed his helmet on
his head. The son of Atreus, the first of _all_ the chiefs, on beholding
the daughter of Priam, is said to have been smitten with the dishevelled
locks of the raving _prophetess_. [146] Mars, too, when caught, was
sensible of the chains wrought at the forge; [147] there was no story
better known than his, in all the heavens.
I myself was of slothful habit, and born for a lazy inactivity; [148]
the couch and the shade [149] had enervated my mind. Attentions to the
charming fair gave a fillip to me, in my indolence; and _Love_ commanded
me to serve [150] in his camp. Hence it is that thou seest me active,
and waging the warfare by night. Let him who wishes not to become
slothful, fall in love.