lawless or slavish passion, but of regular
and successive indulgence. Now imagine that the youth has become a
father, and has a son who is exposed to the same temptations, and has
companions who lead him into every sort of iniquity, and parents and
friends who try to keep him right. The counsellors of evil find that
their only chance of retaining him is to implant in his soul a monster
drone, or love; while other desires buzz around him and mystify him with
sweet sounds and scents, this monster love takes possession of him,
and puts an end to every true or modest thought or wish. Love, like
drunkenness and madness, is a tyranny; and the tyrannical man, whether
made by nature or habit, is just a drinking, lusting, furious sort of
animal.

And how does such an one live? 'Nay, that you must tell me.' Well then,
I fancy that he will live amid revelries and harlotries, and love will
be the lord and master of the house. Many desires require much money,
and so he spends all that he has and borrows more; and when he has
nothing the young ravens are still in the nest in which they were
hatched, crying for food. Love urges them on; and they must be gratified
by force or fraud, or if not, they become painful and troublesome;
and as the new pleasures succeed the old ones, so will the son take
possession of the goods of his parents; if they show signs of refusing,
he will defraud and deceive them; and if they openly resist, what then?
'I can only say, that I should not much like to be in their place.'
But, O heavens, Adeimantus, to think that for some new-fangled and
unnecessary love he will give up his old father and mother, best and
dearest of friends, or enslave them to the fancies of the hour! Truly a
tyrannical son is a blessing to his father and mother! When there is no
more to be got out of them, he turns burglar or pickpocket, or robs a
temple. Love overmasters the thoughts of his youth, and he becomes
in sober reality the monster that he was sometimes in sleep. He waxes
strong in all violence and lawlessness; and is ready for any deed of
daring that will supply the wants of his rabble-rout. In a well-ordered
State there are only a few such, and these in time of war go out and
become the mercenaries of a tyrant. But in time of peace they stay
at home and do mischief; they are the thieves, footpads, cut-purses,
man-stealers of the community; or if they are able to speak, they turn
false-witnesses and informers. 'No small cat