A young man with eyes turned to follow beauty
May not be governed: yea, though he be weak,
Yet is he wise and masterful for loving;
And when Love smiles, what boon surpasseth love?
Antigone, 161.
Love is a sluggard, and of sloth the twin:
Mirrors and hair-dyes are his favorite toys;
Labor he shuns. I take this truth to witness:
No beggar for his bread was known to love,
But with rich men his beauty-bloom abounds.
Dire is the violence of ocean waves,
And dire the blast of rivers and hot fire,
And dire is want, and dire are countless things;
But nothing is so dire and dread as woman.
No painting could express her dreadfulness,
No words describe it. If a god made woman,
And fashioned her, he was for men the artist
Of woes unnumbered, and their deadly foe.
Incert. Fab., 880.
Saving my mother, I hate womankind.