A fine horse, a pack of hounds.
Yes, they would blush to ask for money and cleverly disguise their
It is in you that every art, all human inventions, have had
their origin; it is through you that one man sits cutting leather in
That another fashions iron or wood.
That yet another chases the gold he has received from you.
And if the adulterer, caught red-handed, is depilated, it's on
Oh! great gods! I knew naught of all this!