Gladiators in Love — What Martial Knew That We Forgot

Gladiators in Love — What Martial Knew That We Forgot

"What drunkenness doesn’t do, love does: Priscus and Verus have become gladiators."
— Martial, Epigrams 1.14

Before TikTok therapy explainers, before the Gottmans, even before Jesus turned water into wine at a wedding, a jaded Roman named Martial was already diagnosing your relationship problems.

In this single-line epigram, Martial skewers two rockstars, Priscus and Verus, who were at the pinnacle of the gladiator food chain. Not because they were desperate. Not because they were forced, or fearful.

But because they were in love—with status, with pride, and maybe, if we squint, with the idea of each other as the ultimate worthy rival.

Martial doesn’t write sonnets. He writes surgical strikes.

He understood that love, when infected by narcissism, doesn’t soften us. It makes us theatrical. It makes us willing to bleed for an audience.

Sound familiar?

Martial, Epigrams I.14

Latin (Original):

Haec sunt quae docuit novus et prudentissimus auctor:
qui modo quae veteres non scripsere, docet.

Cum Prisco et Vere certamen factum est
par: utroque egregius uterque fuit.
Dimicuere diu: missi post vulnera, missi.

Fecit uterque parem, si non superasset uterque.

Misit utrumque simul, misitque corona victores
hoc tantum scit Mars, qui non habet alter amorem.

English Translation:

These are the feats taught by a new and most skillful producer,
who now teaches what the ancients never wrote.

When Priscus and Verus fought,
they were equal, each a match for the other.
They fought for a long time: both were wounded, both were released.

Each one made the other his equal—if neither had overcome, both had.

The emperor sent them away together, and sent them away crowned as victors.
Only Mars knows such love, who has no favorite in war.

Modern Love: Still in the Arena

Fast-forward 2,000 years. We’re still marching into the Colosseum—only now it’s digital, domestic, and disturbingly well-lit.

Couples today still do emotional combat over dishes, diagnoses, and emoji tone. We say we’re fighting for communication, but often we’re fighting for dominance. And, like Priscus and Verus, we’re doing it voluntarily.

Because nothing validates our feelings of superiority quite like a righteous relationship argument we clearly won—even if it cost us connection, safety, or sleep.

The Psychology of Gladiator Love

The modern diagnosis for Martial’s insight? Narcissistic Rivalry.

New psychological research (Tilley & Hobolt, 2024) finds that people high in antagonistic narcissism—marked by entitlement, defensiveness, and a reflexive urge to strike first—are far more likely to:

• Feel passionately loyal to their “side” (whether political or relational),

• Express hostility toward anyone who threatens their image or opinions (including their partner),

• And—crucially—mistake emotional warfare for emotional depth.

In the relationship realm, this means turning conflict into performance. We think we’re “expressing our truth,” but we’re really just sharpening our rhetorical swords for the next round.

When Love Needs an Audience

Martial’s satire doesn’t land because it’s ancient—it lands because it’s timeless. He saw what we see in couples therapy every day:

• A partner storms out of a room, not because they’re overwhelmed, but because they need the exit to say what words won’t.

• An apology is refused, not because it’s insincere, but because forgiveness would feel like losing.

• Vulnerability is mocked, or worse—repackaged as a power play: “Now you feel bad, so I win.”

It’s not intimacy. It’s limbic warfare.

What Martial and Modern Therapists Agree On

Couples caught in this dynamic usually share some core beliefs:

• Love should feel dramatic.

• Conflict proves passion.

• Winning means you still matter.

But as any ancient Roman could tell you: not every gladiator gets out alive.

Therapist Tools: How to Exit the Arena Gracefully

The following will be expanded into a downloadable Couples Therapy Toolkit at the end of this series. But for now, here’s a primer:

Name the Arena

If you’re in a looping argument that escalates predictably, stop mid-fight and say:
“I think we’re back in the Colosseum again.”
Language disrupts limbic patterning. Awareness is the first exit.

Identify the Narcissistic Hook

Ask yourself:

• Am I defending my value here, or solving a problem?

• Would I be having this reaction if a stranger said the same thing?

Design a Post-Fight Ritual

Borrowing from ancient purification rites (or just the Gottmans), give yourselves a structured debrief:

• What triggered me?

• What do I wish I’d said instead?

• What do I wish they’d known?

You’re not gladiators. You’re lovers who keep confusing the two.

Next in the Series: Socrates and the Art of Loving Argument

In Chapter 2, we’ll look at Socrates—not the chill philosopher of freshman dorm posters, but the emotional tactician who used dialogue not to defeat, but to reveal.

We’ll ask: what would happen if you could argue with your partner the way Socrates argued with Athens? Gently. Relentlessly. Curiously. Without swords.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.

REFERENCES:

Goleman, D. (1995). Emotional intelligence: Why it can matter more than IQ. Bantam Books.

Gottman, J. M., & Silver, N. (1999). The seven principles for making marriage work. Crown.

Tilley, J., & Hobolt, S. B. (2024). Narcissism and affective polarization. Political Behavior. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11109-024-09957-w

Martial. (c. 86 AD). Epigrams, Book I, Epigram 14.