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Certes. I look too to prevail with her,

If she be such as other women are.

I too will share with thee in the attempt,

For I will send her gifts more beautiful

By far than are among men now, I know:

A fine-webbed robe and garland of wrought gold:

My sons shall bear them. Now then with all haste

Let some one of my servants bring the gauds.

She shall be rich, not in one thing but many,

Gaining thee a perfect husband to her spouse,

And having hers the gauds which erst the Sun,

My father's father, gave those born from him.

Boys, take this wedding dower into your hands,

Carry them to the happy royal bride:

Give them—she will not have unworthy gifts.

Yet why, fond fool, lose these out of thy keep?

Dost think the kingly house is scant of robes?

Or gold, dost think? Preserve these, give them not: