So leave arguing and hear
what the poet says:
Seest not the fruits of the market, how of two kinds they be?
Some are for figs,[FN#52] but more for the fruit of the
sycamore-tree.[FN#53]
And what another says:
Full many an one, whose ankle-rings are dumb, her girdle sounds;
So this one is content and that a tale of need must tell.
Thou'dst have me, foolwise, in her charms forget thee. God
forfend I, that a true believer am, should turn an infidel!
No, by a whisker that makes mock of all her curls, I swear, Nor
maid nor strumpet from thy side shall me by guile compel!
And a third:
O pearl of loveliness, to love thee is my faith; Yea, and my
choice of all the faiths that have been aye.
Women I have forsworn, indeed, for thy sweet sake, So that the
folk avouch I'm grown a monk to-day
And a fourth:
Compare not a wench with a boy and to the spy, Who says to thee,
"This is wrong," pay thou no heed.
'Twixt a woman whose feet one's lips kiss and a smooth-faced
fawn, Who kisses the earth, the diff'rence is great indeed.
And a fifth:
My soul be thy ransom! Indeed, I've chosen thee out with intent,
Because thou layest no eggs and dost not menstruate.
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