Each man is led by his own liking.
Evil is nourished and grows by concealment.
I shudder when relating it.
Their rage supplies them with weapons.
Is it then so sad a thing to die?
Don't trust the horse, Trojans. Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even bearing gifts. -Equo ne credite, Teucri. Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes