“ Listen, O sage: the PurŒ˜as, the Vedas and the saints declare that woman is like the vernal season to the forest of ignorance. Nay, like the hot season she dries up all the ponds and lakes of Japa (the muttering of prayers), austerity and religious observances. Again, lust, anger, pride and jealousy are so many frogs as it were; like the rainy season woman is the only agency that gladdens them all. Even so latent desires of a vicious type are like a bed of lilies, to which, like the autumn, she is ever agreeable. All the different virtues are like a bed of lotuses; like the middle of winter, woman, who is a source of base (sensuous) pleasure, blights them all. Again, the overgrowth of the YavŒsa plant in the shape of mineness flourishes when the close of winter in the shape of woman appears. For owls in the shape of sins woman is a delightful night thick with darkness. Even so reason, strength, virtue and truth are all so many fishes as it were; and woman, so declare the wise, is like a hook to catch them.” (1—4)