Chapter XXI

Men, till they took laws, which made freedom less, Their daughters and their sisters did ingress; Till now unlawful, therefore ill, 'twas not; So jolly, that it can move this Soul. Is The body so free of his kindnesses, That self-preserving it hath now forgot, And slack'neth not the Soul's and body's knot, Which temp'rance straitens? Freely on his she-friends He blood and spirit, pith and marrow, spends; Ill steward of himself, himself in three years ends.