[5412] “Meum mel, mea suavitas, meum cor,
        Meum suaviolum, mei lepores,”

“my life, my light, my jewel, my glory,” [5413]_Margareta speciosa, cujus respectu omnia mundi pretiosa sordent_, my sweet Margaret, my sole delight and darling.  And as [5414]Rhodomant courted Isabella: 

       “By all kind words and gestures that he might,
        He calls her his dear heart, his sole beloved,
        His joyful comfort, and his sweet delight. 
        His mistress, and his goddess, and such names,
        As loving knights apply to lovely dames.”

Every cloth she wears, every fashion pleaseth him above measure; her hand, O quales digitos, quos habet illa manus! pretty foot, pretty coronets, her sweet carriage, sweet voice, tone, O that pretty tone, her divine and lovely looks, her every thing, lovely, sweet, amiable, and pretty, pretty, pretty.  Her very name (let it be what it will) is a most pretty, pleasing name; I believe now there is some secret power and virtue in names, every action, sight, habit, gesture; he admires, whether she play, sing, or dance, in what tires soever she goeth, how excellent it was, how well it became her, never the like seen or heard. [5415]_Mille habet ornatus, mille decenter habet._ Let her wear what she will, do what she will, say what she will, [5416]_Quicquid enim dicit, seu facit, omne decet_.  He applauds and admires everything she wears, saith or doth,

[5417] “Illam quicquid agit, quoquo vestigia vertit,
          Composuit furtim subsequiturque decor;
        Seu solvit crines, fusis decet esse capillis,
          Seu compsit, comptis est reverenda comis.”

       “Whate’er she doth, or whither e’er she go,
          A sweet and pleasing grace attends forsooth;
        Or loose, or bind her hair, or comb it up,
          She’s to be honoured in what she doth.”

[5418]_Vestem induitur, formosa est:  exuitur, tota forma est_, let her be dressed or undressed, all is one, she is excellent still, beautiful, fair, and lovely to behold.  Women do as much by men; nay more, far fonder, weaker, and that by many parasangs.  “Come to me my dear Lycias,” (saith Musaeus in [5419]Aristaenetus) “come quickly sweetheart, all other men are satyrs, mere clowns, blockheads to thee, nobody to thee.”  Thy looks, words, gestures, actions, &c., “are incomparably beyond all others.”  Venus was never so much besotted on her Adonis, Phaedra so delighted in Hippolitus, Ariadne in Theseus, Thisbe in her Pyramus, as she is enamoured on her Mopsus.

       “Be thou the marigold, and I will be the sun,
        Be thou the friar, and I will be the nun.”

I could repeat centuries of such.  Now tell me what greater dotage or blindness can there be than this in both sexes? and yet their slavery is more eminent, a greater sign of their folly than the rest.