............While I was still in the form of bone and pulp,
My mother gave to me, the deeds I did were not of a lion,
But of a fox.
The machinations and covert ways, I knew them all, and practised so their craft,
That to the ends of the earth the sound went forth.
When now unto that portion of my age I saw myself arrived,
When each one ought to lower the sails, and coil away the ropes,
That which before pleased me then displeased me;
And penitent and confessing I surrendered,
Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me.

Dante's "Inferno,"
Canto XXVII

And third-party information though it may be, my four-year-old nephew, as I understand, who first of all is the walking, talking Webster's definition of "No Fear," (I did a caracature of him years ago, blazing ahead in a 60's Corvette Sting Ray with a license plate that read "outta my way!" that's him.) informed his father recently that his parental "policies," and that was the exact word he used, apparently ran counter to the boy's objectives. Had it been one of mine at the age of four, I'd have been floored; as it was, my then-ten-year-old intentionally making a joke out of the difference between "Ode to Joy," and the "1812 Overture," got me enough.