The fame of this, perhaps, through Crete had flown, But Crete had newer wonders of her own, In Iphis changed; for near the Gnossian bounds (As loud report the miracle resounds), At Phaestus dwelt a man of honest blood, But meanly born, and not so rich as good, Esteem’d and loved by all the neighbourhood, Who, to his wife, before the time assign’d For childbirth came, thus bluntly spoke his mind: “If heaven,” said Lygdus, “will vouchsafe to hear, I have but two petitions to prefer, Short pains for thee, for me a son and heir. Girls cost as many throes in bringing forth; Besides, when born, they prove of little worth, Weak, puling things, unable to sustain Their share of labour, and their bread to gain. If, therefore, thou a creature shalt produce, Of so great charges, and so little use (Bear witness, heaven, with what reluctancy), Her helpless innocence I doom to die.” He said; and tears the common grief display, Of him who bade, and her who must obey.