Not without rhyme or reason is the supposition of some writers that the tale about Ixion—how it was the cloud that he embraced instead of Hera and begat from thence the Centaurs—has an application to lovers of glory. For such men, consorting with glory, which we may call an image of virtue, produce nothing that is genuine and of true lineage, but much that is bastard and monstrous, being swept now along one course and now along another in their attempts to satisfy desire and passion. The herdsmen of Sophocles say,1 in speaking of their flocks:—
Of these, indeed, though masters, we are yet the slaves,
And to them we must listen even though they're dumb.

1 Probably in the lost ‘Poimenes,’ or Shepherds (Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag.2, p. 249).

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