“In the words of Phokylides, the tribes of women come in four breeds: bee, bitch and grimy sow, and sinewy mate with draping mane. The mare is healthy, swift, roundly built and on the loose. The monster-looking sow is neither good nor rotten, and the bristling bitch lies snapping at the leash. Yes, the bee is best: a whizz at cleaning, trim and good in cooking. My poor friend, I tell you, for a bright, balmy marriage, pray for a bee.”
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