As I was coming from Piræus lately, In great perplexity and sad distress, I fell to thoughts of deep philosophy. And first I thought that all the painters seem Ignorant of the real nature of Love; And so do all the other artists too, Whoe'er make statues of this deity: For he is neither male nor female either; Again, he is not God, nor yet is he man: He is not foolish, nor yet is he wise; But he's made up of all kinds of quality, And underneath one form bears many natures. His courage is a man's; his cowardice A very woman's. Then his folly is Pure madness, but his wisdom a philosopher's; His vehemence is that of a wild beast, But his endurance is like adamant; His jealousy equals any other god's. And I, indeed,—by all the gods I swear,— Do not myself precisely understand him; But still he much resembles my description, Excepting in the name. And Eubulus, or Ararus, in his Campylion, says— What man was he, what modeller or painter, Who first did represent young Love as wing'd? He was a man fit only to draw swallows. Quite ignorant of the character of the god. For he's not light, nor easy for a man Who's once by him been master'd, to shake off; But he's a heavy and tenacious master. How, then, can he be spoken of as wing'd? The man's a fool who such a thing could say. And Alexis, in his Man Lamenting, says— For this opinion is by all the Sophists Embraced, that Love is not a winged god; But that the winged parties are the lovers, And that he falsely bears this imputation: So that it is out of pure ignorance That painters clothe this deity with wings. 14. And Theophrastus, in his book on Love, says that Chæremon the tragedian said in one of his plays, that— As wine adapts itself to the constitution Of those who drink it, so likewise does Love Who, when he's moderately worshipp'd, Is mild and manageable; but if loosed From moderation, then is fierce and troublesome. On which account the same poet afterwards, distinguishing his powers with some felicity, says— For he doth bend a double bow of beauty, And sometimes men to fortune leads, But sometimes overwhelms their lives With trouble and confusion.[18] But the same poet also, in his play entitled The Wounded Man, speaks of people in love in this manner:— Who would not say that those who love alone Deserve to be consider'd living men? For first of all they must be skilful soldiers, And able to endure great toil of body, And to stick close to th' objects of their love: They must be active, and inventive too, Eager, and fertile in expedients, And prompt to see their way in difficulties. [Sidenote: LOVE.]