separate threads, draw them to a centre here, wind them into one, make
one great hank of the lot, out of which the public can weave itself
a good, stout tunic.
Is it not a sin and a shame to see them carding and winding the
State, these women who have neither art nor part in the burdens of the
What! wretched man! why, it's a far heavier burden to us than to
you. In the first place, we bear sons who go off to fight far away
Enough said! do not recall sad and sorry memories!
Then secondly, instead of enjoying the pleasures of love and
making the best of our youth and beauty, we are left to languish far
from our husbands, who are all with the army. But say no more of
ourselves; what afflicts me is to see our girls growing old in
Don't the men grow old too?