Christopher Marlowe on Women

“Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Come Helen, come give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.”

“Like untun'd golden strings all women are, Which long time lie untouch'd, will harshly jar. Vessels of brass oft handled, brightly shine; What difference betwixt the richest mine And basest mould, but use? ... Ah, simple Hero, learn thyself to cherish, Lone women like to empty houses perish. ... One is no number; maids are nothing then, Without the sweet society of men.”