The Old Proverb Was Now Made Good,

The Man Who First Brought Ruin Upon The Roman People Was He Who Pampered Them By Largesses And Amusements.

I Am All That Hath Been, And Is, And Shall Be; And My Veil No Mortal Has Hitherto Raised.

I, For My Own Part, Had Much Rather People Should Say Of Me That There Neither Is Nor Ever Was Such A Man As Plutarch, Than That They Should Say, "plutarch Is An Unsteady, Fickle, Froward, Vindictive, And Touchy Fellow.

Courage And Wisdom Are, Indeed, Rarities Amongst Men, But Of All That Is Good, A Just Man It Would Seem Is The Most Scarce.

A Human Body In No Way Resembles Those That Were Born For Ravenousness; It Hath No Hawk's Bill, No Sharp Talon, No Roughness Of Teeth, No Such Strength Of Stomach Or Heat Of Digestion, As Can Be Sufficient To Convert Or Alter Such Heavy And Fleshy Fare . . . There Is Nobody That Is Willing To Eat Even A Lifeless And A Dead Thing Even As It Is; So They Boil It, And Roast It, And Alter It By Fire And Medicines, As It Were, Changing And Quenching The Slaughtered Gore With Thousands Of Sweet Sauces, That The Palate Being Thereby Deceived May Admit Of Such Uncouth Fare.