I want this woman who does not want me; that one who does, I do not want. Venus wishes to conquer hearts, not satisfy them.

I love a maiden who does not love me; another Would gladly have me, but I do not want her. So Love is bent on torturing people’s souls, And seldom pleases them or gives content.

Their love dances in a ring, and Cupid chases them round and round: he dotes, and someone in turn dotes on him.

While he seeks, he is sought; he kindles and burns at once.

Their affections cannot be brought into agreement. Often they could, but will not: their own foolish conduct spoils everything. They have too little confidence in themselves and are too easily discouraged. Suppose she is rich and you poor; she young and you old; she lovely and beautiful, you extremely ugly and misshapen; she noble, you low-born; she elegant and finely dressed, you an ugly rustic. “Never despair”: there is still hope enough. “Nisa is given to Mopsus: what may we lovers not hope for?”

Put yourself forward once more. Matches just as unlikely have been made and are made every day: see what the outcome will be. Many leave roses and gather thistles, loathe honey and love sour grape juice. Our likings vary as much as our palates. But commonly they let opportunities pass—“He who has taken kisses, etc.”—and neglect the customary means and occasions.

He who will not when he may, When he wishes will be told no.

They expect to be wooed, sought after and courted. Most often they wish to marry but cannot, either for the reasons already named or because a crowd of suitors are equally enamoured, all doting alike. Where only one can succeed, what is to become of the rest? Hero was loved by many, but one enjoyed her; Penelope had a crowd of suitors, yet all failed in their aim.

In such cases he, or they, must wisely and carefully disentangle themselves and loosen the attachment by the rules already prescribed—“Why does he not shake off these foolish fires?”—turn his thoughts elsewhere, or bear it bravely as Turnus did: “Let Lavinia be your wife.” When he could not win her, he told Aeneas to take her, with a kind of heroic scorn. Or let her go with a gentler farewell:

“And have Phyllis to yourself”: take her; God grant you joy, sir. The fox in the emblem would eat no grapes. But why? Because he could not get them. Do not trouble yourself over what cannot be had.

There are many such difficulties, obstacles and hindrances that thwart their plans and torment poor lovers. Sometimes they can be removed easily; sometimes they cannot. But suppose everything so far is settled and agreed; suppose this love or liking is between two people alone, both well pleased, with “mutual love” and great affection. Yet their parents, guardians or tutors cannot agree, and so everything is ruined: the match is unequal, one rich and the other poor.

“A harsh father”: a hard-hearted, unnatural, covetous father will not arrange his son’s marriage unless he receives a certain sum—“So mad is everyone for gold,” as Chrysostom observes. Nor will he marry off his daughter, to save her dowry, or because he cannot spare the service she does him. He is resolved to part with nothing while he lives, not a penny, even if he could readily afford it. He will not give it until he dies; then, like the contents of a broken money-pot, it is divided among those who gaped so eagerly for it.

Or else he lacks the means to provide for her marriage: he has no money, and though the delay plainly harms the health of her body and soul, he does not care and will take no notice. She must and shall wait.

Many negligent and careless parents, “unjust fathers,” measure their children’s affections by their own. They are now cold and decrepit, past all such youthful thoughts, and therefore mean to starve their children’s natural spirit, to have them “born old men straight from childhood.” They must not marry, “nor have anything to do with the things that youth brings with it. He sets the measure by his own desire as it is now, not as it once was,” as the character says in the comedy. They will stifle nature: their young people must have no share in youth’s pleasures, but suddenly become old like themselves.

And it is a common fault among most parents arranging their children’s marriages: the father considers wealth alone. When his own folly, extravagance and indiscretion have wasted his estate, he tries to recover his position by confining and selling his eldest son’s love and affection to some foolish, old or ugly creature for money.

He will marry Phanareta’s daughter, that red-haired maiden, Grey-eyed, broad-faced, with a hooked nose.

And though his son objects utterly, like Clitipho in the comedy—“I cannot, father”—if she is rich, “Come now,” he replies, “but he is choosy! You would think he had some sense!” He must and shall have her; she is beautiful enough, young enough. If he expects or hopes to inherit his father’s lands, he must marry, not when he wishes or the woman he loves—“this Arconides’s daughter”—but whomever his father orders, when and where his father pleases. His affection must wait upon his father’s wishes.

His daughter, indeed, is in the same predicament: like an empty boat, she must carry what and whom her father wishes, wherever and whenever he pleases. In these affairs the father always seeks the greatest advantage; the mother values good family connections, and the son usually wants a handsome woman.

Livy illustrates all this in the first decade, book 4: a gentleman and a yeoman courted a young woman in Rome, contrary to the statute forbidding marriage between the gentry and common people. The matter was disputed. The mother favoured the gentleman, “wishing the girl to enter the most splendid marriage possible”; the guardians supported the man with the greater wealth, etc.

But parents ought not to be so strict in this matter. Beauty is in itself an entirely sufficient dowry: “A beautiful maiden, though extremely poor, has a dowry in abundance.” Jacob married Rachel on this basis; and Bonaventure, in his commentary on the fourth book of the Sentences, denies that a man commits even a venial sin by marrying a maiden for her physical beauty. Among the Jews, Deuteronomy 21:11, a man who saw a beautiful woman among the captives might take her as his wife after observing certain minor formalities.