AGL. All the women, with one voice, find her attractions but small;
and, sister, I have discovered the cause of the number of lovers she
holds in thrall.

CID. I guess it. We may presume that some mystery is hidden under it.
This secret of captivating everybody is not an ordinary effect of
nature; the Thessalian art must be mixed up in it, and, doubtless,
some one has given to her a charm by which she makes herself beloved.

AGL. My opinion is founded on a more solid basis, and the charms by
which she draws all hearts to herself are a demeanour at all times
free of reserve; caressing words and looks; a smile full of sweetness,
which invites everyone, and promises them nothing but favours. Our
glory is departed; and that lofty pride which, by a full observance of
noble trials, exacted a proof of the constancy of our lovers, exists
no longer. We have degenerated, and are now reduced to hope for
nothing unless we throw ourselves into the arms of the men.

CID. Yes, that is the secret; and I see that you understand it better
than I. It is because we cling too much to modesty, sister, that no
lovers come to us; it is because we try to sustain too strictly the
honour of our sex and of our birth. Men, nowadays, like what comes
easily to them; hope attracts them more than love; and that is how
Psyche deprives us of all the lovers we see under her sway. Let us
follow her example, and suit ourselves to the times; let us stoop,
sister, to make advances, and let us no longer keep to those dull
morals which rob us of the fruits of our best years.

AGL. I approve of this idea; and we have an opportunity of making a