"SILENA: O Cupid! Monarch over Kings, Wherefore hast thou feete and wings? It is to show how swift thou art, When thou wound’st a tender heart: Thy wings being clip’d, and feete held still, Thy Bow so many could not kill. ACCIUS: It is all one in Venus wanton schoole, Who highest sits, the wise man or the foole: Fooles in loves colledge Have farre more knowledge, To read a woman over, Than a neate prating lover. Nay, tis confest, That fooles please women best."