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For should he knowledge gain that she

Comes there, there also will he be.

No man a woman can protect

Who for herself hath no respect.

Yea, e’en was Argus overmatched

Though with his hundred eyes he watched,

Whereof one moiety he kept

Wide open while the other slept,

For therefore Mercury was sped

By Jove to shear off Argus’ head,

Fair Io to revenge I trow,

Whom he transformed had to a cow.

Futile his watch—a heavy yoke

Bears he who meddles with such folk.

But let a woman note this well:

Whatever clerks or laymen tell

Let her no idle tales believe

(Which none but fools as truth receive)

Of sorcerers and enchanters dire,

Or witches dancing round the fire,

E’en though they might surpass the fancy

Of Helenus in necromancy

And second-sight, nor let her think

That she by potions and charmed drink

Can draw some lover to her side

Who from his faith hath wandered wide.

Ne’er could Medea win again

False Jason, he of Glauce fain;

Nor could wise Circe’s magic art

Control Ulysses’ wandering heart.