Hippolytus (611-635)

Never dishonour thy oath, thy son.

My tongue an oath did take, but not my heart.

My son, what wilt thou do? destroy thy friends?

Friends indeed! the wicked are no friends of mine.

O pardon me; to err is only human, child.

Great Zeus, why didst thou, to man’s sorrow, put woman, evil counterfeit, to dwell where shines the sun? If thou wert minded that the human race should multiply, it was not from women they should have drawn their stock,

but in thy temples they should have paid gold or iron or ponderous bronze and bought a family, each man proportioned to his offering, and so in independence dwelt, from women free.

But now as soon as ever we would bring this plague into our home we bring its fortune to the ground.1[*] ’Tis clear from this how great a curse a woman is; the very father, that begot and nurtured her, to rid him of the mischief gives her a dower and packs her off;

while the husband, who takes the noxious weed into his home, fondly decks his sorry idol in fine raiment and tricks her out in robes, squandering by degrees, unhappy wight! his house’s wealth. For he is in this dilemma;

say his marriage has brought him good connections, he is glad then to keep the wife he loathes; or, if he gets a good wife but useless relations, he tries to stifle the bad luck with the good. But it is easiest for him who has settled in his house as wife a mere nobody,[*] incapable from simplicity.