Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists
C. D. Yonge, B.A., Ed.

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And Theophrastus, in his book on Love, says that Chseremon the tragedian said in one of his plays, that—

As wine adapts itself to the constitution
Of those who drink it, so likewise does Love
Who, when he's moderately worshipp'd,
Is mild and manageable; but if loosed
From moderation, then is fierce and troublesome.

On which account the same poet afterwards, distinguishing his powers with some felicity, says—

For he doth bend a double bow of beauty,
And sometimes men to fortune leads,
But sometimes overwhelms their lives
With trouble and confusion.

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But the same poet also, in his play entitled The Wounded Man, speaks of people in love in this manner:—

Who would not say that those who love alone
Deserve to be consider'd living men?
For first of all they must be skilful soldiers,
And able to endure great toil of body,
And to stick close to th' objects of their love :
They must be active, and inventive too,
Eager, and fertile in expedients,
And prompt to see their way in difficulties.

And Theophilus, in his Man fond of the Flute, says—

Who says that lovers are devoid of sense?
He is himself no better than a fool:
For if you take away from life its pleasures,
You leave it nothing but impending death.
And I myself am now indeed in love
With a fair maiden playing on the harp;

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And tell me, pray, am I a fool for that.
She's fair, she's tall, she's skilful in her art;
And I'm more glad when I see her, than you
When you divide your salaries among you.

But Aristophon, in his Pythagorean, says—

Now, is not Love deservedly cast out
From his place among the twelve immortal gods?
For he did sow the seeds of great confusion,
And quarrels dire, among that heavenly ban
When he was one of them. And, as he was
Bold and impertinent, they clipp'd his wing
That he might never soar again to heaven;
And then they banished him to us below;
And for the wings which he did boast before
Them they did give to Victory, a spoil
Well won, and splendid, from her enemy.

Amphis, too, in his Dithyrambic, speaks thus of loving—

What say'st thou?—dost thou think that all your words
Could e'er persuade me that that man's a lover
Who falls in love with a girl's manners only
And never thinks what kind of face she's got?
I call him mad; nor can I e'er believe
That a poor man, who often sees a rich one,
Forbears to covet some of his great riches.

But Alexis says in his Helena—

The man who falls in love with beauty's flower,
And taketh heed of nothing else, may be
A lover of pleasure, but not of his love;
And he does openly disparage Love,
And causes him to be suspect to others.