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And Eubulus, in his Chrysille, says—
May that man, fool as he is, who marries
A second wife, most miserably perish;
Him who weds one, I will not blame too much,
For he knew little of the ills he courted.
But well the widower had proved all
The ills which are in wedlock and in wives.
And a little further on he says—
O holy Jove, may I be quite undone,
If e'er I say a word against the women,
The choicest of all creatures. And suppose
Medea was a termagant,—what then?
Was not Penelope a noble creature?
If one should say, “Just think of Clytæmnestra,”
I meet him with Alcestis chaste and true.
Perhaps he'll turn and say no good of Phædra;
But think of virtuous . . . . who?. . . . Alas, alas!
I cannot recollect another good one,
Though I could still count bad ones up by scores.
[p. 895] And Aristophon, in his Callonides, says—
May he be quite undone, he well deserves it,
Who dares to marry any second wife;
A man who marries once may be excused;
Not knowing what misfortune he was seeking.
But he who, once escaped, then tries another,
With his eyes open seeks for misery.
And Antiphanes, in his Philopator, says—
A. He's married now.
B. How say you? do you mean
He's really gone and married-when I left him,
Alive and well, possess'd of all his senses?
And Menander, in his Woman carrying the Sacred Vessel of Minerva, or the Female Flute-player, says—
A. You will not marry if you're in your senses
When you have left this life. For I myself
Did marry; so I recommend you not to.
B. The matter is decided—the die is cast.
A. Go on then. I do wish you then well over it;
But you are taking arms, with no good reason,
Against a sea of troubles. In the waves
Of the deep Libyan or Aegean sea
Scarce three of thirty ships are lost or wreck'd;
But scarcely one poor husband 'scapes at all.
And in his Woman Burnt he says—
Oh, may the man be totally undone
Who was the first to venture on a wife;
And then the next who follow'd his example;
And then the third, and fourth, and all who followed.
And Carcinus the tragedian, in his Semele (which begins, “O nights”), says—
O Jupiter, why need one waste one's words
In speaking ill of women? for what worse
Can he add, when he once has call'd them women?

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