Beyond age, leaf withered, man goes three footed no stronger than a child is, a dream that falters in daylight.

For somehow this is tyranny's disease, to trust no friends.

Since long I've held silence a remedy for harm.

And though all streams flow from a single course to cleanse the blood from polluted hand, they hasten on their course in vain.

Tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world.

In the lack of judgment great harm arises, but one vote cast can set right a house.

We shall perish by guile just as we slew.