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Love, like drunkenness and madness, is a tyranny; and the

tyrannical man, whether made by nature or habit, is just a

drinking, lusting, furious sort of animal.

And how does such an one live? 'Nay, that you must tell me.' Well

then, I fancy that he will live amid revelries and harlotries,

and love will be the lord and master of the house. Many desires

require much money, and so he spends all that he has and borrows

more; and when he has nothing the young ravens are still in the

nest in which they were hatched, crying for food. Love urges them

on; and they must be gratified by force or fraud, or if not, they

become painful and troublesome; and as the new pleasures succeed

the old ones, so will the son take possession of the goods of his

parents; if they show signs of refusing, he will defraud and

deceive them; and if they openly resist, what then? 'I can only

say, that I should not much like to be in their place.' But, O

heavens, Adeimantus, to think that for some new-fangled and

unnecessary love he will give up his old father and mother, best

and dearest of friends, or enslave them to the fancies of the

hour!