Then Sinope, a many-headed hydra,
An old and wrinkled hag—Gnathine, too,
Her neighbour—Oh! they are a precious pair.
Nanno's a barking Scylla, nothing less—
Having already privately dispatch'd
Two of her lovers, she would lure a third
To sure destruction, but the youth escaped,
Thanks to his pliant oars, and better fortune.
Phryne, like foul Charybdis, swallows up
At once the pilot and the bark. Theano,
Like a pluck'd siren, has the voice and look
Of woman, but below the waist, her limbs
Wither'd and shrunk in to the blackbird's size.
These wretched women, one and all, partake
The nature of the Theban Sphinx; they speak
In doubtful and ambiguous phrase, pretend
To love you truly, and with all their hearts,
Then whisper in your ear, some little want—
A girl to wait on them forsooth, a bed,
Or easy-chair, a brazen tripod too—
Give what you will they never are content;
And to sum up their character at once,
No beast that haunts the forest for his prey
Is half so mischievous.—Anon.
The same.
Away, away with these female friends!
He whose embraces have encircled one,
Will own a monster has been in his arms;
Fell as a dragon is, fire-spouting like
Chimæra, like the rapid ocean-portent,
Three-headed and dog-snouted!—
Harpies are less obscene in touch than they:
The tigress robb'd of her first whelps, more merciful:
Asps, scorpions, vipers, amphisbenæ dire,
Cerastes, Ellops, Dipsas, all in one!—
But come, let's pass them in review before us,
And see how close the parallels will hold.
And first for Plangon: where in the scale place her?
E'en rank her with the beast whose breath is flame.
