“I have been woo’d, as I entreat thee now,
Even by the stern and direful god of war…
Over my altars hath he hung his lance,
His batter’d shield, his uncontrolled crest,
And for my sake hath learn’d to sport and dance,
To joy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest;
Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red,
Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.
Thus he that overrul’d I oversway’d,
Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain:
Strong-temper’d steel his stronger strength obey’d,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.
O! Be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mastering her that foil’d the god of fight.”
-Venus and Adonis, William Shakespeare