Of Men Who Have A Sense Of

Rather I'd Choose Laboriously To Bear A Weight Of Woes, And Breathe The Vital Air, A Slave To Some Poor Hind That Toils For Bread, Than Reign The Sceptred Monarch Of The Dead.

Urge Him With Truth To Frame His Fair Replies And Sure He Will For Wisdom Never Lies.

What So Tedious As A Twice-told Tale?

And His Good Wife Will Tear Her Cheeks In Grief, His Sons Are Orphans And He, Soaking The Soil Red With His Own Blood, He Rots Away Himself-more Birds Than Women Flocking Round His Body!

There Is Nothing Nobler Or More Admirable Than When Two People Who See Eye To Eye Keep House As Man And Wife, Confounding Their Enemies And Delighting Their Friends.