And capture them for veils, if not for vice.”
“But marriage is a capture, too,” I said.
“If so,” he answer’d, “yet a natural state,
Made statelier through authority of law,
That, otherwise, might authorize the wrong;—
A state to which, as not to convent life,
All social instincts prompt; may prompt the more
The more one’s years. Who then can it forswear?—
Think you a maid, with half her moods unform’d
At twenty, can conceive what thoughts may come