Chaste to her husband, frank to all beside, A teeming mistress, but a barren bride.
The light of Heaven restore; Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.
Woman's at best a contradiction still.
Nay, fly to altars; there they'll talk you dead; For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Art still followed where Rome's eagles flew.
I was not born for courts and great affairs, but I pay my debts, believe and say my prayers.