The wicked man flees when no one is after him ....
[JB (1966)]

The wicked flees when no one is pursuing ....
[NJB (1985)]

The wicked run when no one is chasing them ....
[GNT (1992 ed.)]

The wicked run away even though no one pursues them ....
[CEB (2011)]

The wicked flee when no one pursues ....
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

A wicked person flees though no one gives chase ....
[RJPS (2023 ed.)]

The wisshinge, and the tremblinge chuffe his house and good doth please,
As portraytures the poreblind eyes, as bathes, the gowtie ease.
As musicke dothe delite the eares with matter stuffde, and sore.
The vessels sowers what so it takes if it be fowle before.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

Who fears, or covets: House to him and Ground,
Are Pictures to blind men, Incentives bound
About a gouty Limb, Musick t'an ear
Dam'd up with filth. A vessel not sincere
Sowres whatsoe're you put into't.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

He that desires or fears, diseas'd in mind,
Wealth profits him as Pictures do the blind;
Plaisters the Gouty Feet; and charming Airs
And sweetest sounds the stuft and troubled Ears:
The musty Vessels sour what they contain.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Houses and riches gratify the breast
For lucre lusting, or with fear deprest,
As pictures, glowing with a vivid light,
With painful pleasure charm a blemisht sight;
As chafing soothes the gout, or music cheers
The tingling organs of imposthum'd ears.
Your wine grows acid when the cask is foul.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Who frets or covets, wealth can please no more
Than pictures him whose eyes with rheum run o'er --
Than furst an flannels can the cripple cheer,
Or warbling music charm an aching ear.
Life's every relish lies beyond his power,
As in the tainted vessel all turns sour.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

To him that is a slave to desire or to fear, house and estate do just as much good as paintings to a sore-eyed person, fomentations to the gout, music to ears afflicted with collected matter. Unless the vessel be sweet, whatever you pour into it turns sour.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Who fears or hankers, land and country-seat
Soothe just as much as tickling gouty feet,
As pictures charm an eye inflamed and blear,
As music gratifies an ulcered ear.
Unless the vessel whence we drink is pure,
Whate'er is poured therein turns foul, be sure.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

A house and wealth afford like pleasure to him who is covetous or fearful, as paintings do to a person with defective sightk, fomentations to a gouty man, or music to those whose ears suffer from accumulated dirt. Except a jar be clean, whatever you may pour in turns sour.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

If a mind is bound by greed or harassed by fears, his house, his home and all his possessions will give him no more pleasure than paintings do to the blind, warm blankets the feverish or music the deaf. In an unclean pitcher sweet milk soon turns sour.
[tr. Dana/Dana (1911)]

To one with fears or cravings, house and fortune give as much pleasure as painted panels to sore eyes, warm wraps to the gout, or citherns to ears that suffer from secreted matter. Unless the vessel is clean, whatever you pour in turns sour.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

His house and estate are as much of a pleasure to him
Who wants something more (or is deathly afraid he won't get it)
As dazzling canvases are to a man with sore eyes,
Or nice wram robes to a man who suffers from gout,
Or the music of mournful guitars to infected ears.
If the vase isn't clean, whatever you put in turns sour.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

A man who desires or fears enjoys his good as much
as a sore-eyed man likes art, a man with gout
fine shoes, someone with wax-plugged hears a cithara.
Anything you pour into a dirty pot gets spoiled.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

A miser, or a man endlessly
Greedy, enjoys his mansion, his rolling meadows, as much
As a sore-eyed man takes pleasure in paintings, a gouty man relishes
Hot cloths, a man with pus-filled ears loves music.
If the cup isn't clean, everything you drink is dirty.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

If your life is governed
By cravings for what you lack, or else by fear
Of losing what you have, then what you have,
Your house and your possessions, give you as much
Pleasure as a picture gives a blind man,
Or an elegant pair of shoes gives a man with gout,
Or music gives to an ear stuffed up with wax.
A glass that isn't clean will guarantee
That whatever you pour into it will sour.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

A man with fear or desire has as much pleasure from his house
and possessions as sore eyes from a picture, gouty feet
from muffs, or ears from a lyre when aching with lumps of dirt.
When a jar is unclean, whatever you fill it with soon goes sour.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

House and fortune grant
As much pleasure to one who’s full of fear and craving
As painting to sore eyes, poultice to gouty joint,
Or lute to ears that ache from accumulated wax.
Unless the jar is clean whatever you pour in sours.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

To ly is a horrible-filthy vice; and which an auncient writer setteth forth very shamefully, when he saith, that whosoever lieth, witnesseth that he contemneth God and therewithal feareth men. It is impossible more richly to represent the horrour, the vilenesse and the disorder of it: For, What can be imagined so vile, and base, as to be a coward towardes men, and a boaster towardes God?
[tr. Florio (1603)]

Lying is a base vice; a vice that one of the ancients paints in the most odious colours when he says, "That it is too manifest a contempt of God, and a fear of man." It is not possible more copiously to represent the horror, baseness, and irregularity of it; for what can be imagined more vile, than a man, who is a coward towards man, so courageous as to defy his Maker?
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

Lying is a base vice; a vice that one of the ancients portrays in the most odious colors when he says, “that it is to manifest a contempt of God, and withal a fear of men.” It is not possible more fully to represent the horror, baseness, and irregularity of it; for what can a man imagine more hateful and contemptible than to be a coward toward men, and valiant against his Maker?
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

Lying is a base vice, and painted in its most shameful colours by one of the ancients, who says that to lie is to give proof that you despise god and at the same time are afraid of men. It is impossible to state its horror, its vileness, and its outrageousness more felicitously. For what baser thing can we imagine than to be a coward toward men and act the brave fellow toward God?
[tr. Zeitlin (1934)]

Lying is an ugly vice, which an ancient paints in most shameful colors when he says that it is giving evidence of contempt for God, and at the same time of fear of men. It is not possible to represent more vividly the horror, the vileness, and the profligacy of it. For what can you imagine uglier than being a coward toward men and bold toward God?
[tr. Frame (1943)]

Lying is a villein's vice, a vice which an Ancient paints full shamefully when he says that it gives testimony to contempt for God together with fear of men. It is not possible to show more richly the horror of it, its vileness and its disorderliness. For what can one imagine more serf-like than to be cowardly before men and defiant towards God?
[tr. Screech (1987)]

Thou thyself doest transgress in many things, and art even such another as they are. And though perchance thou doest forbear the very act of some sins, yet hast thou in thyself an habitual disposition to them, but that either through fear, or vainglory, or some such other ambitious foolish respect, thou art restrained.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), 11.16]

Don't forget you are like the rest of the World, and Faulty your self in a great many Instances; That tho' you may forbear running Riot in some Cases, 'tis not for want of an Inclination: And that nothing but Cowardize, Vanity, or some such scandalous Principle, hinders you from breaking out.
[tr. Collier (1701)]

You have many faults of your own, and are much such another. And, that, though you abstain from some such crimes, yet you have a like strong inclination; however from fear, or concern about your character, you abstain from them.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

Reflect that you yourself are guilty of many faults, and are in many respects like those that offend you. And though you abstain from some vicious acts, you have an habitual inclination to commit them, but are restrained by fear, a regard to character, or some other less virtuous motive, from further indulgence in them.
[tr. Graves (1792)]

Consider that thou also doest many things wrong, and that thou art a man like others; and even if thou dost abstain from certain faults, still thou hast the disposition to commit them, though either through cowardice, or concern about reputation, or some such mean motive, thou dost abstain from such faults.
[tr. Long (1862)]

You are like others, and often do wrong yourself. Even if you abstain from some forms of wrong, all the same you have the bent for wrongdoing, though cowardice or desire for popularity, or some other low motive keeps you from wrong of that kind.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

You yourself do often sin, and are no better than another. And, if you abstain from certain sins, still you have the disposition to commit them, even if through cowardice, fear for your character, or other meanness, you hold back.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

Thou too doest many a wrong thing thyself and art much as others are, and if thou dost refrain from certain wrong-doings, yet hast thou a disposition inclinable thereto even supposing that through cowardice or a regard for thy good name or some such base consideration thou dost not actually commit them.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

You yourself also often do wrong and are another such as they are, and that, even if you do abstain from some kinds of wrong action, at all events you have at least a proclivity to them, though cowardice or tenderness for your good name or some similar bad motive keeps you from offences like theirs.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

You yourself offend in various ways, and are no different from them. You may indeed avoid certain faults, yet the inclination is there nevertheless, even if cowardice or a regard for your reputation or some such ignoble motive has restrained you from imitating their misdeeds.
[tr. Staniforth (1964)]

You for your own part also commit many wrongs, and are just the same as they are; and that even if you do refrain from certain kinds of wrongdoing, you have at least the inclination to commit such wrongs, even if cowardice, or concern for your reputation, or some other vice of that kind, saves you from actually committing them.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]

You've made enough mistakes yourself. You're just like them. Even if there are some you've avoided, you have the potential. Even if cowardice has kept you from them. Or fear of what people would say. Or some equally bad reason.
[tr. Hays (2003)]

You yourself have many faults and are no different from them. If you do refrain from some wrongs you still have the proclivity to them, even if your restraint from wrongs like theirs is due to the fear or pursuit of public opinion, or some other such poor motive.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

Remember that you yourself are often mistaken, and so you are just like them; also that, even if you manage to refrain from doing some wrongs, you nevertheless have it in you to do such things, were it not for the fact that fear, thirst for reputation, or some other unworthy motive keeps you from doing what they do.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

Consider that you for your own part also commit many wrongs, and are just the same as they are; and that even if you do refrain from certain kinds of wrongdoing, you have at least the inclination to commit such wrongs, even if cowardice, or concern for your reputation, or some other vice of that kind, saves you from actually committing them.
[tr. Hard (2011 ed.)]

Either the Gods can do nothing for us at all, or they can still and allay all the distractions and distempers of thy mind. If they can do nothing, why doest thou pray? If they can, why wouldst not thou rather pray, that they will grant unto thee, that thou mayst neither fear, nor lust after any of those worldly things which cause these distractions and distempers of it? Why not rather, that thou mayst not at either their absence or presence, be grieved and discontented: than either that thou mayst obtain them, or that thou mayst avoid them? For certainly it must needs be, that if the Gods can help us in anything, they may in this kind also.
[tr. Casaubon (1634)]

Either the Gods have power to assist us, or they have not. If they have not, what does praying to them signifie? If they have, why don't you rather pray that they would Discharge your Desires, than Satisfie them; and rather set you above the Passion of Fear, than keep away the Thing you are afraid of? For if the Gods can help us, no doubt they can help us to be Wiser.
[tr. Collier (1701), 9.42]

Either the Gods have no power at all [to aid men in any thing;] or they have power. If, then, they have no power, why do you pray? But if they have power, why don’t you chuse to pray to them to enable you, neither to fear any of these things, [which are not in our own power] nor desire any of them, nor be grieved about any of them; rather than for the having them, or the not having them. For, most certainly, if they can aid men at all, they can also aid them in this.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

Either the Gods have power to assist mankind, or they have not. If they have not, why do you pray to them? If they have that power, why do you not rather pray, "that they would enable you neither to fear nor to desire any thing; nor to be more grieved fro the want, than for the possession of it?" For, certainly, if they have the power to co-operate with the endeavours of men, they can do it in this respect.
[tr. Graves (1792)]

Either the gods have no power or they have power. If, then, they have no power, why dost thou pray to them? But if they have power, why dost thou not pray for them to give thee the faculty of not fearing any of the things which thou fearest, or of not desiring any of the things which thou desirest, or not being pained at anything, rather than pray that any of these things should not happen or happen? for certainly if they can co-operate with men, they can co-operate for these purposes.
[tr. Long (1862)]

Either the gods have power to assist us, or they have not. If they have not, what does praying to them help you? If they have, why do you not rather pray that they would remove your fears and moderate your desires, and rather keep you from grieving for any of these things, than keep away one thing and grant another? For if the gods can help us, no doubt they can help us to be wiser.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]

The gods either have power, or they have not. If they have not, why pray at all? If they have, why not pray for deliverance from teh fear, or the desire, or the pain, which the thing causes, rather than for the withholding or the giving of the particular thing? Assuredly, if they can help men at all, this is the way of help.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

Either the Gods have power or they have none. If they have no power, why do you pray? If they have power, why do you not choose to pray to them for power neither to fear, nor to desire, nor to be grieved over any of these external things, rather than for their presence or their absence? Surely, if the Gods can aid man at all, they can aid him in this.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

Either the Gods have no power or they have power. If they have no power, why pray to them? But if they have power, why not rather pray that they should give thee freedom from fear of any of these things and from lust for any of these things and from grief at any of these things [rather] than that they should grant this or refuse that. For obviously if they can assist men at all, they can assist them in this.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

The gods are either powerless or powerful. If then they are powerless, why do you pray? But if they are powerful, why not rather pray them for the gift to fear none of these things, to desire none of them, to sorrow for none of them, rather than that any one of them should be present or absent? For surely if they can co-operate with man, they can co-operate to these ends.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

The gods either lack power or they have power. If they are powerless, why do you pray to them? But if they have power, why do you not pray to them to grant you the ability neither to fear any of these things nor to desire them, nor to be distressed by them, rather than praying that some of them should fall to you and others not? For surely, if the gods have any power to help human beings, they can help them in this.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]

Either the gods have power or they don't. If they don't, why pray? If they do, then why not pray for something else instead of for things to happen or not to happen? Pray not to feel fear. Or desire. Or grief. If they gods can do anything, they can surely do that for us.
[tr. Hays (2003)]

Either the gods have power or they do not. Now, if they have no power, why pray? If they do have power, why not pray for their gift of freedom from all worldly fear, desire, or regret, rather than for the presence or absence of this or that? Certainly, if the gods can cooperate with men, they can cooperate to these ends.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

Either the gods have power or they do not. If they do not, why do you pray? But if they do have power, why aren't you praying that they give you the power not to fear, crave, or be troubled by a thing, rather than pryaing to have that thing or not have it? For if the gods can work with us, then surely they can work with us toward this end.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

The gods either lack power or they have power. Now if they are powerless, why do you pray to them? But if they have poer, why do you not pray to them to gran you the ability neither to fear any of these things nor to desire them, nor to be distressed by them, rather than praying that some of them should fall to you and others not? For surely, if the gods have any power to help human beings, they can help them in this.
[tr. Hard (2011 ed.)]

To tell the truth, my dearest, during the daytime all mothers invent dangers as soon as the children are out of sight. There are razors for Armand to play with, fire to catch his jacket, a slow-worm to bite him, a fall to bump his head, and ponds to tumble into. So you see that maternity is a series of poems, sweet or terrible as the case may be. There's not an hour which does not have its joys and fears.
[tr. Wormeley (1842), Memoirs of Two Young Married Women]

An hart the better chevalier as it came then to passe
Did chase an horse that fed with him from eating of the grasse.
The tryumpher after that he was parted from his foe
The man from backe, the bitt from mouthe he could not rid them fro.
So, he that feareth povertie his fredom cannot houlde.
Fredome, better then mettells all better then choysest goulde.
That foole shall beare in dede a Lorde, and lyve a dayly thrall,
For that he will not knowe to use and lyve upon a small.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

The Stagg superior both in Arms and Force,
Out of the Common-Pasture drove the Horse:
Untill the vanquish'd after a long fight
Pray'd Man's assistance, and receiv'd the Bit:
But, having beat the Victor, could not now
Bit from his Mouth, nor Man from his Back throw.
So He that fearing Poverty, hath sold
Away his Liberty; better then Gold,
Shall carry a proud Lord upon his back,
And serve for ever, 'cause he could not lack.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Both fed together, till with injur'ous force,
The stoutest Deer expell'd the weaker Horse:
He beaten, flyes to Man to right his Cause,
Begs help, and takes the Bridle in his Jaws.
Yet tho He Conquer'd, tho He rul'd the Plain,
He bore the Rider still, and felt the Rein.
Thus the mean Wretch, that fearing to be poor,
Doth sell his Liberty for meaner Ore:
Must bear a Lord, He must be still a Slave,
That cannot use the little Nature gave.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

A lordly stag, arm'd with superior force,
Drove from their common field a vanquisht horse,
Who for revenge to man his strength enslav'd,
Took up his rider, and the bitt received:
But, though he conquer'd in the martial strife,
He felt his rider's weight, and champt the bitt for life.
So he, who poverty with horror views,
Nor frugal nature's bounty knows to use;
Who sells his freedom in exchange for gold
(Freedom for mines of wealth too cheaply sold),
Shall make eternal servitude his fate,
And feel a haughty master's galling weight.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

It chanced that after many a well-fought bout
The Stag contrived to put the Horse to rout;
'Till, from his pasture driven, the foe thought fit
To ask the aid of man and took the bit.
He conquer'd; but, his triumph o'er, began
To find he could shake off nor bit nor man.
such is the fate of him who, if he please,
Might rest in humble competence and ease,
Yet through the dread of penury has sold
That independence which surpasses gold.
Henceforth he'll serve a tyrant for his pains,
And stand or budge as avarice pulls the reins.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

The stag, superior in fight, drove the horse from the common pasture, till the latter, worsted in the long contest, implored the aid of man and received the bridle; but after he had parted an exulting conqueror from his enemy, he could not shake the rider from his back, nor the bit from his mouth. So he who, afraid of poverty, forfeits his liberty, more valuable than mines, avaricious wretch, shall carry a master, and shall eternally be a slave, for not knowing how to use a little.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

The stag was wont to quarrel with the steed,
Nor let him graze in common on the mead:
The steed, who got the worst in each attack,
Asked help from man, and took him on his back:
But when his foe was quelled, he ne'er got rid
Of his new friend, still bridled and bestrid.
So he who, fearing penury, loses hold
Of independence, better far than gold,
Will toil, a hopeless drudge, till life is spent,
Because he'll never, never learn content.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Once on a time a stag, at antlers' point,
Expelled a horse he'd worsted, from the joint
Enjoyment of the pasture both had cropped:
Still, when he ventured near it, rudely stopped.
The steed called in man's aid, and took the bit:
Thus backed, he charged the stag, and conquered it.
But woe the while! nor rider, bit, nor rein
Could he shake off, and be himself again.
So he who, fearing poverty, hath sold
His freedom, better than uncounted gold.
Will bear a master and a master's laws.
And be a slave unto the end, because
He will not learn, what fits him most to know.
How far, discreetly used, small means will go.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

The stag, being the more powerful animal in fight, was accustomed to drive off the horse from the open pasture until the latter, feeling his inferiority, after a protracted contest, implored the help of man, and received the rein. But after that, a revengeful victor, he had left his foe he threw not off the rider from his back nor the bit from his mouth. In a like manner the man who, through a dread of a small income, possesses not freedom -- preferable to metallic treasure -- will, basely, carry a master and yield him perpetual servitude, because he knows not how to enjoy a little.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

The stag could best the horse in fighting and used to drive him from their common pasture, until the loser in the long contest begged the help of man and took the bit. But after that, in overweening triumph, he parted from his foe, he did not dislodge the rider from his back or the bit from his mouth. So he who through fear of poverty forfeits liberty, which is better than mines of wealth, will in his avarice carry a master, and be a slave for ever, not knowing how to live on little.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

The stag, victorious in fight, in course
Drove from the common pasturage the horse,
Until the horse, at last forced to submit,
Called in the help of man and took the bit;
But, when he had subdued his foe by force,
The rider from his back he couldn't divorce,
Nor from his mouth the bit. So, if in dread
Of Want, wone has one's freedom forfeited --
Freedom more precious than a mine outspread --
A master he will carry for his greed,
And always be a slave, because in deed
He knows not how to make a little do.
[tr. A. F. Murison (1931); ed. Kraemer, Jr (1936)]

The stag, in time past, could drive
The horse from the feeding ground, and beat him in fighting,
Until the perpetual loser came crying to man
To ask for his help, and accepted the bit. Then the horse
Fought the stag once again to a bitter conclusion, and won.
He walked off and left his foe, but now couldn’t shake
The bit from his mouth or the rider down from his back.
So one who, fearing poverty, loses the liberty
That is worth even more than a gold mine will carry a master,
And cravenly slave for another, simply because
He can't subsist on a little.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

A stag battled a horse for the best grass in a field
And kept on winning until the loser in that long war
approached a man to beg his help, and took the bit.
But when it had won the bloody clash and routed its foe,
it could neither shake out the bit nor shake off the rider.
Anyone so scared of poverty he'd rather lose his freedom
than his mines is such a fool he bears a rider, a master
he'll obey forever, since he never learned to live on little.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

The stag was a better fighter than the horse
And often drove him out of their common pasture,
Until the horse, the loser, asked man's help
And acquiesced in taking the bit in his mouth.
But after his famous victory in this battle
He couldn't get the rider off his back
And he couldn't get the bit out of his mouth.
The man who'se afraid to be poor and therefore gives
His liberty away, worth more than gold,
Will carry a master on his back and be
A slave forever, not knowing how to live
On just a little.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

The stag, being stronger than the horse, drove him away from the pasture
they shared, until, having had the worse of the age-old struggle,
the horse turned for help to man, and accept the bit.
But after routing his enemy and leaving the field in triumph
he never dislodged the rider from his back or the bit from his mouth.
So the man who, in fear of poverty, forgoes his independence
(a thing more precious than metals) has the shame of carrying a master;
he's a slave for life, as he will not make the best of a little.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

The stag could always better the horse in conflict,
And drive him from open ground, until the loser
In that long contest, begging man’s help, took the bit:
Yet, disengaged from his enemy, as clear victor,
He couldn’t shed man from his back, the bit from his mouth.
So the perverse man who forgoes his freedom, worth more
Than gold, through fear of poverty, suffers a master
And is a slave forever, by failing to make much
Of little.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

SGANAREL: And are you under no Apprehensions, Sir, about the Death of the Governor you kill'd six Months ago?
D. JOHN: And why Apprehensions? did'nt I kill him fairly?
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]

SGAN.: And you have no fear, sir, for the consequences of the death of that Commander whom you killed six months ago?
D. JU.: Why should I be afraid? Did I not kill him honourably?
[tr. Van Laun (1876)]

SGAN.: And have you no fear, sir, abouit the death of that commandant you killed six months ago?
JU.: What fear can I have? Did I not kill him properly?
[tr. Wall (1879)]

SGAN.: And have you no apprehensions, Monsieur, from the death of the Commander you killed six months ago?
D. JUAN: Why should I be afraid? Did I not kill him honourably?
[tr. Waller (1904)]

SGANARELLE: And have you nothing to fear, sir, from the death of the Commandant whom you killed here six months ago?
DON JUAN: And what should I fear? Was n't he fairly killed?
[tr. Page (1908)]

SGANARELLE: And have you nothing to fear, sir, here, from the death of that Commander you killed six months ago?
DON JUAN: And why fear? Didn I kill him properly?
[tr. Frame (1967)]

I see more reason to fear that through ignorance of the true road to glory you should think that it consists in being more powerful than all your fellow-citizens, and in being the object of their dread.
[tr. King (1877)]

What I am more afraid of is lest, being ignorant of the true path to glory, you should think it glorious for you to have more power by yourself than all the rest of the people put together, and lest you should prefer being feared by your fellow-citizens to being loved by them.
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

What I more fear is this -- that, blind to glory's true path, you may think it glorious to possess in your single self more power than all, and to be feared by your fellow-citizens.
[tr. Ker (Loeb) (1926)]

I fear more that, ignorant of the true path to glory, you may think it glorious for you alone to be more powerful than all, and feared by your fellow-citizens.
[tr Wiseman]

It is feare I stand most in feare of. For, in sharpnesse it surmounteth all other accidents.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

The thing in the World I am most afraid of is Fear, and with good reason, that Passion alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding all other Accidents.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

The thing I am most afraid of is fear, because it is a passion which supersedes and suspends all others.
[tr. Friswell (1868)]

The thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear, that passion alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding all other accidents.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

The thing I am most afraid of is fear. And, indeed, it surpasses in sharpness all other calamities.
[tr. Ives (1925), 1.18]

The thing I fear most is fear.
Moreover, it exceeds all other disorders in intensity.
[tr. Frame (1943), 1.18]

Fear is what I fear most.
No other experience is more bitter.
[tr. HyperEssays (2025)]

Notre repentir n’est pas une douleur du mal que nous avons fait ; c’est une crainte de celui qui nous en peut arriver.

Notre repentir ne vient point du regret de nos actions, mais du dommage qu’elles nous causent.

Our Repentance proceeds not from the remorse coneiv'd at our Actions, but from the prejudice we are apt to receive thereby.
[tr. Davies (1669), ¶35]

Our Repentances are generally not so much a Concern and Remorse for the Ills we have done, as a Dread of those we were in danger of suffering.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶181]

Repentance is not so much remorse for what we have done, as the fear of consequences.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶384; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶172]

Our repentance is not so much sorrow for the ill we have done as fear of the ill that may happen to us.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871), ¶180]

Repentance is less a sorrow at having sinned than a fear of the possible consequences.
[tr. Heard (1917), ¶184]

Repentance is not so much regret for the evil we have done as fear of that which may befall us.
[tr. Stevens (1939), ¶180]

Our repentance is less a regret for the evil we have done than a precaution against the evil that may be done to us.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957), ¶180]

Our repentance is less a regret for ills we have caused than a fear of ills we may encounter.
[tr. Kronenberger (1959), ¶180]

Repentance is not so much regret for the evil we have done as fear of the evil that may befall us as a result.
[tr. Tancock (1959), ¶180]

Our repentance is not so much regret for the evil we have done, as fear of the evil which may yet happen to us in future.
[tr. Whichello (2016) ¶180]

However, the cause of your loyalty was fear, no lasting monitor of duty, while your worthlessness springs from that audacity which is ever present with you while you are free from fear.
[tr. King (1877)]

Fear is not a lasting teacher of duty.
[Timor non est diuturnus magister officii.]
[ed. Hoyt (1883)]

However, it was fear -- no steadfast teacher of duty -- that made you good: what made you unprincipled was that which, in the absence of fear, never departs from you, audacity.
[tr. Ker (Loeb) (1926)]

Although it was fear that was then making you a good citizen, which is never a lasting teacher of duty; your own audacity, which never departs from you as long as you are free from fear, has made you a worthless one.
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

Although fear (not a long-lasting teacher of one’s duty) was making you a decent person then, your arrogance, which never leaves you as long as fear is absent, has made you shameless.
[tr. McElduff (2011)]

It was from dread of this that I drifted into this waiting policy. But now I have everything to gain by hastening, everything to lose by delay.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1900), # 391]

That fear of mine led me to delay. But I gain all now by haste, and, if I delay, I lose all.
[tr. Winstedt (Loeb) (1913)]

This fear led me into such procrastination. But I shall gain all if I make haste; if I delay, I lose all.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1968), # 199]

Oddly enough, the first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity, in a young woman, boldness. This is surprising, and yet nothing is more natural. It is the two sexes tending to unite, and each acquiring the qualities of the other.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

Strange it is, the first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity; in a girl it is boldness. This will surprise, and yet nothing is more simple; the two sexes have a tendency to approach, and each assumes the qualities of the other.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

And besides, although shyness is the first sign of true love in a youth, boldness is its token in a maid. This may seem strange, but nothing could be more simple. The sexes are drawing close, and in doing so each assumes the qualities of the other.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

And then, oddly enough, the first symptom of true love in a man is timidity, in a young woman, boldness. This is surprising, and yet nothing is more natural. It is the two sexes tending to unite, and each acquiring the qualities of the other.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

Fresh strength is added to religion's base
By fables which man's breast with terror fill.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

But tales that frighten men are profitable for service to the gods.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

But stories terrible to mortals are a gain for the worship of the gods.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

Yet it may be the tale liveth, soul-affraying,
To bow us to Godward in lowly obeying.
[tr. Way (1896)]

Once, men told the tale, and trembled;
Fearing God.
[tr. Murray (1905)]

Such shocking myths are for the good of men, to frighten them into believing in the gods.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]

But tales which terrify mankind
are profitable and serve the gods.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]

While laziness and timidity alone have the merit of keeping us in our duty, our virtue often has all the honour.
 
[Pendant que la paresse et la timidité ont seules le mérite de nous tenir dans notre devoir, notre vertu en a souvent tout l’honneur.]

Shame, laziness and timidity alone retain the merit of holding us back from our duty, while our virtue has all the honor.
 
[La honte, la paresse et la timidité conservent toutes seules le mérite de nous retenir dans notre devoir, pendant que notre vertu en a tout l’honneur.]

It must be admitted that virtue, by which we boast of doing everything good that we do, would not always have the strength to hold us back from the rules of our duty, if laziness, timidity, or shame did not make us see the disadvantages of departing from them.
 
[Il faut avouer que la vertu, par qui nous nous vantons de faire tout ce que nous faisons de bien, n’aurait pas toujours la force de nous retenir dans les règles de notre devoir, si la paresse, la timidité, ou la honte ne nous faisoient voir les inconvénients qu’il y a d’en sortir.]

We are many times kept within the limits of our duty by Shame, Sloth, and Timorousness, while in the mean time our Virtue hath all the credit of it.
[tr. Davies (1669), ¶5]

Many People are kept within their Duty, because they have not the Courage, or will not be at the pains of being wicked; and in such cases oftentimes our Vertue runs away with all the Praise.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶170]

Idleness, timidity, and shame, often keep us within the bounds of duty; whilst virtue seems to run away with the honour.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶233; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶163]

Idleness, timidity, or shame, often keeps us within the bounds of duty; whilst virtue seems to run away with the honour of it.
[ed. Carvill (1835), ¶202]

Indolence and timidity often keep us to our duty, while our virtue carries off all the credit of doing so.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶172]

Idleness and fear keeps us in the path of duty, but our virtue often gets the praise.
[tr. Bund / Friswell (1871), ¶169]

Although it is frequently laziness and timidity that keep us within the path of duty, it is virtue that reaps the credit.
[tr. Heard (1917), ¶169]

Though indolence and timidity keep us to the path of duty, virtue often gets all the credit.
[tr. Stevens (1939), ¶169]

When laziness or cowardice keeps us to the path of duty, the credit is often given entirely to our honour.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957), ¶169]

When laziness and timidity yokes us to our duties, we often give virtue the credit for it.
[tr. Kronenberger (1959), ¶169]

While it is idleness and timidity that retain us in our duty, our virtue takes all the credit.
[tr. Whichello (2016), ¶169]

It is better to die well than to live badly. [...] He that fears death, loses the joys of life. Above all else, truth is conqueror. He conquers, who is slain: for no adversity hurts him if no iniquity hath dominion over him.
[tr. Pope (1904)]

It is better to die well, than to live wrongly [...] Who is afraid of death loses the joy of life; truth prevails all, prevails who is killed, because no adversity can harm him, who is not dominated by injustice.

But if there be any fear of Envy, is the Censure of Severity and Courage more greatly to be feared, than that of Baseness and Cowardise? Do you not think, when Italy shall be made desolate with War, the Cities plundered, the Houses a-fire, you shall then fall under a flagrant Envy?
[tr. Wase (1671)]

If fear is to operate, which do you think is most to be dreaded, reproach for cowardice, or censure for magnanimity? When Italy is laid waste; when her cities are taken by storm; when her temples and mansions are wrapt in flames; it is then your danger will begin; it is then that the clamours of mankind will be loud against you.
[tr. Sydney (1795)]

But if there is any fear of odium, whether should the odium resulting from severity and determinati0on be dreaded more violently than that of indolence and wickedness? Whether, when Italy shall be ravaged by war, when the cities shall be harassed, when roofs shall be burning, dost thou not think that thou then will burn with a conflagration of odium?
[tr. Mongan (1879)]

But if there is any fear of envy (displeasure), whether is the envy of severity and of fortitude to be feared more violently, than (that) of inactivity and of negligence? Whether, when Italy shall be devastated with war, cities shall be burned, roofs (houses) shall be on fire: dost thou think thyself not (to be) about to burn then with a conflagration of envy (unpopularity)?
[tr. Underwood (1885)]

But if there is any fear of ill will, is the ill will because of strictness and courage to be feared more strongly, than (that) because of inactivity and negligence? When Italy shall be devastated with war, cities shall be harassed, roofs [houses] shall burn: do you think (you) yourself will not (about to) be consumed then with a conflagration of ill will?
[tr. Dewey (1916)]

If the question of inviting disapproval arises at all, the unpopularity resulting from firmness and determination is no more to be dreaded than the opprobrium produced by culpable failure to act. For when Italy is to be ravaged by war, when cities are assaulted and houses gutted by fire, do you not see how utterly the flames of hatred will consume you then?
[tr. Grant (1960)]

But if there is any fear of hatred, it is not hatred of harshness and firmness requiring to be feared more violently than (hatred) of idleness and worthlessness. Or when Italy is laid waste to, the cities will be harassed, the buildings will burn, then do you not think that you will be consumed by burning hatred?
[IB Notes]

Frail women as we are, too oft our fears
Subdue us, but at other times our courage
By none can be exceeded.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]

We are women, sometimes defeated by fear,
sometimes unsurpassed in courage.
[Source]

There are those men who will not hearken to reason, or good council, but deviate of their own Heads, purely for fear of being govern'd.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]

There are some Men who will not hearken to Reason and good Counsel, but deviate of their own Heads, purely for fear of being govern'd.
[Curll ed. (1713)]

There are some Men who turn the deaf Ear to Reason and friendly Counsel, and play the Fool of their own Heads, purely for fear of being governed.
[Browne ed. (1752)]

There are some men who turn a deaf ear to reason and good advice, and willfully go wrong for fear of being controlled.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]

Men willingly post of their cruelty, their anger, their greed even, but never of their cowardice, because to admit such a thing would put them, whether in a primitive or a civilized society, in mortal peril.
[tr. Davies (1979)]

Tricks and dark schemes are mankind's invention as
cowardly remedies against need.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]

Trickery and devious devices are man’s unmanly means to meet his needs.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]

Happie is he that hidden causes knowes,
And bold all shapes of danger dares oppose:
Trampling beneath his feet the cruell Fates,
Whom Death, nor swallowing Acheron amates.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Happy the Man, who, studying Nature's Laws,
Thro' known Effects can trace the secret Cause.
His Mind possessing, in a quiet state, ⁠
Fearless of Fortune, and resign'd to Fate.
[tr. Dryden (1709), l. 698-701]

Happy the Man, whose penetrating mind
Of things the latent causes first could find,
He, who all terrors, ruthless Fate could quell,
And the dire din of all-devouring Hell!
[tr. Nevile (1767), l. 549-552]

How blest the sage! whose soul can pierce each cause
Of changeful Nature, and her wondrous laws:
Who tramples fear beneath his foot, and braves
Fate, and stern death, and hell's resounding waves.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]

Happy is he who has been able to trace out the causes of things, and who has cast beneath his feet all fears, and inexorable Destiny, and the noise of devouring Acheron!
[tr. Davidson (1854)]

Thrice blest the man whom mighty genius brings
To know the cause and origin of things:
Beneath his feet lie destiny and dread;
He walks the roaring waters of the dead.
[tr. Blackmore (1871)]

Happy the man who has won the knowledge of the moving springs of nature, and so trmapled under food all fears, and the remorseless doom of death, and the road of Acheron, yawning for prey!
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]

Happy, who had the skill to understand
Nature's hid causes, and beneath his feet
All terrors cast, and death's relentless doom,
And the loud roar of greedy Acheron.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]

Happy the man who knows the secret cause,
How nature works, and reads creation’s laws,
Whose soul to fortune can superior rise,
And death, dark minister of fate, despise.
[tr. King (1882), ll. 498-501]

Happy is he who has been able to trace out the causes of things, and who has trodden under foot all idle fears, and inexorable Destiny, and the roar of devouring Acheron!
[tr. Bryce (1897)]

Happy he who hath availed to know the causes of things, and hath laid all fears and immitigable Fate and the roar of hungry Acheron under his feet.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]

Oh happy, whose heart hath attained Creation's secret to know,
Who hath trampled all haunting fears underfoot, nor dreadeth the blow
Of Fate the relentless, the roar of insatiate Acheron's flow!
[tr. Way (1912)]

Blest was that man whose vision could explore
The world's prime causes, conquering for man
His horde of fears, his certain doom of death
Inexorable, and the menace loud
Of hungry Acheron!
[tr. Williams (1915)]

Lucky is he who can learn the roots of the universe,
Has mastered all his fears and fate's intransigence
And the hungry clamour of hell.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]

Blessed is he who masters nature’s laws,
Tramples on fear and unrelenting fate,
On greedy, roaring Acheron.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]

Happy the man who has been able to learn the causes of things and has trampled beneath his feet all fears, inexorable fate, and the howl of greedy Acheron.
[tr. Miles (1980)]

Blessed is he whose mind had power to probe
The causes of things and trample underfoot
All terrors and inexorable fate
And the clamour of devouring Acheron.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]

He who’s been able to learn the causes of things is happy,
and has set all fear, and unrelenting fate, and the noise
of greedy Acheron, under his feet.
[tr. Kline (2001)]

Blessed, he who understands the workings of nature
and tramples all fear and relentless fate and the bone-
shaking clatter of greedy Death beneath his feet.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]

O happy he who can fathom the causes of thing,
who's thrown all fear and dogged Fate
beneath his feet, and the roaring of ravenous Acheron.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]

That man is blessed who has learned the causes of things,
And therefore under his feet subjugates fear
And the decrees of unrelenting fate
And the noise of Acheron's insatiable waters.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]

O Vengeance dire of God, how much you should
By ev'ry one be dreaded, when he reads
What to my eyes was manifestly shewn!
[tr. Rogers (1782)]

Vengeance of Heav'n! I saw thy hand severe
(Your doom! ye Atheists and Blasphemers, hear!)
O'er many a naked soul the scourge display!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 4]

Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d
By all, who read what here my eyes beheld!
[tr. Cary (1814)]

O vengeance of the Eternal! how ought they
Who read the tale, thy workings mark with awe,
In that my troubled eyes did here survey!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

O vengeance of God! how shouldst thou be feared by every one who reads what was revealed to my eyes!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Avenging power of God! how should each fear,
Who reads of this, arresting with surprise,
The sight which manfestly met mine eyes!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Oh, God's great vengeance! with what heavy dread
Thou should'st be fear'd by ev'ry one who reads
What to mine eyes so manifest was made!
[tr. Johnston (1867), l. 16ff]

Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou
By each one to be dreaded, who doth read
That which was manifest unto mine eyes!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

O vengeance of God, how oughtest thou to be feared by each one who reads that which was manifested to my eyes!
[tr. Butler (1885)]

O vengeance of great God! with what a fear
Thou shouldst be held by all who read in awe
That which before my eyes was visibly clear!
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

O vengeance of God, how much thou oughtest to be feared by every one who readeth that which was manifest unto mine eyes!
[tr. Norton (1892)]

O Vengeance of God, how mightily shouldst thou be feared by all who read that which was given mine eyes to look upon!
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Vengeance of God! In what great fear and trembling
Should'st thou be held by each who reads the story
Of that which to my eyes was manifested.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

O vengeance of God, how must thou be feared by everyone who reads what was plain before my eyes!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

O chastisement of God, how oughtest thou
To be of each one feared who reads with awe
What to my eyes was manifested now.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Fearful indeed art thou, vengeance of God!
He that now reads what mine own eyes with awe
Plainly beheld, well may he dread thy rod!
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

O vengeance of God, how much should you be feared by all who read what was revealed to my eyes!
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

O just revenge of God! how awesomely
you should be feared by everyone who reads
these truths that were revealed to my own eyes!
[tr. Musa (1971)]

O vengeance of the Lord, how you should be
dreaded by everyone who now can read
whatever was made manifest to me!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

O vengeance of God, how much you ought
To be feared by everyone who reads
What was there manifested to my eyes.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

O vengeance of God, how much
Should you be feared by all of those who read
What my eyes saw!
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

O vengeance of God, how much must you be feared by everyone who reads what was made manifest to my eyes!
[tr. Durling (1996)]

O God’s vengeance, how what was shown to my sight should be feared, by all who read!
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Great God! Your vengeance must be rightly feared
by all who read the verses I compose
to say what there was straight before my eyes.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

O vengeance of God, how much
should you be feared by all who read
what now I saw revealed before my eyes!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

But O God's awful vengeance! Reading this,
You all should tremble with fear for what my eyes
Were shown, dark and terrible, a burning brilliance!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

Holy Vengeance, how you must
Be feared by all who read what now I saw!
[tr. James (2013)]

As to great enterprizes, we must not stand reasoning, it is enough that we embrace them when they present, lest the consideration of their difficulty make us abandon the attempt.
[Flesher ed. (1685)]

Great undertakings are not to be brooded over, lest their difficulty when seen causes despair.
[tr. Jacobs (1892)]

In moments of great danger, don't even think, simply act. Don't dwell on the difficulties.
[tr. Maurer (1992)]

For those who desire to have others be afraid of them, must needs be afraid of those others in their turns.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

For they who desire to become objects of terror to others, must dread those who regard them with fear.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

For it is a necessary consequence, that men fear those very persons by whom they wish to be feared.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

For it is inevitable that those who wish to be feared should themselves fear the very persons by whom they are feared.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

For men involuntarily fear those whom they intimidate.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

Those who wish to be feared must inevitably be afraid of those whom they intimidate.
[tr. Miller (1913)]

It is well enough in those who by open force have reduced any nation, and accordingly rule it with a high hand, if they do sometimes use rigour and severity, like masters towards their slaves when there is no other way of holding them in subjection: but for those who are magistrates in a free city, to endeavour to make themselves feared by the people, is one of the maddest and most desperate attempts on the face of the earth. [...] Let us therefore embrace and adhere to that method which is of the most universal influence, and serves not only to secure us what we have, but moreover to enlarge our power and authority; that is, in short, let us rather endeavour to be loved than feared, which is certainly the best way to make us successful, as well in our private as our public business.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

But the truth is, cruelty must be employed by those who keep others in subjection by force; as by a master to his slaves, if they cannot otherwise be managed. But of all madmen, they are the maddest who, in a free state so conduct themselves as to be feared. [...] We ought therefore to follow this most obvious principle, that dread should be removed and affection reconciled, which has the greatest influence not only on our security but also on our interest and power; and thus we shall most easily attain to the object of our wishes, both in private and political affairs.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Those who hold under their command subjects forcibly kept down must indeed resort to severity, as masters toward their slaves when they cannot otherwise be restrained. But nothing can be more mad than the policy of those who in a free state conduct themselves in such a way as to be feared. [...] Let us then embrace the policy which has the widest scope, and is most conducive, not to safety alone, but to affluence and power, namely, that by which fear may be suppressed, love retained. Thus shall we most easily obtain what we desire both in private and in public life.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

Let tyrants exercise cruelty, as a master does towards his slaves when he cannot control them by other means: but for a Citizen of a free State to equip himself with the weapons of intimidation is the height of madness. [...] Let us then put away fear and cleave to love; love appeals to every heart, it is the surest means of gaining safety, influence and power; in a word, it is the key to success both in private and in public life.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

But those who keep subjects in check by force would of course have to employ severity -- masters, for example, toward their servants, when these cannot be held in control in any other way. But those who in a free state deliberately put themselves in a position to be feared are the maddest of the mad. [...] Let us, then, embrace this policy, which appeals to every heart and is the strongest support not only of security but also of influence and power -- namely, to banish fear and cleave to love. And thus we shall most easily secure success both in private and in public life.
[tr. Miller (1913)]

Men who dominate and command other men, whom they have subjugated by force, have to apply some harshness, just as the owner uses harshness toward his slaves if he cannot control them any other way. But it is completely senseless for men in a free city act in such a way that it causes others to live in fear: no one could be more insane. [...] So let us embrace a rule that applies widely and that is extremely effective not only maintaining safety but also in acquiring wealth and power, namely, that there should be no fear, that one should hold affection dear. This is the easiest way for ust to attain what we want both in private affairs and in the government.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

Feare shews degenerate minds.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Fear ever argues a degenerate kind.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Fear argues a degenerate mind.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Fear proves a base-born soul.
[tr. Connington (1866)]

Fear shows degenerate souls.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]

Fear proves the vulgar spirit.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

For fear it is shows base-born souls.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

Fear argues souls degenerate and base.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 2, l. 14]

'Tis cowardice
betrays the base-born soul.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Fear proves a bastard spirit.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Mean souls convict themselves by cowardice.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

For in the face of fear
the mean must fall.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]

Tell-tale fear
Betrays inferior souls.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), ll. 19-20]

If there is any baseness in a man, it shows as cowardice.
[tr. West (1990)]

Fear reveals the ignoble spirit.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Fear
Always gives away men of inferior birth.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

Fear exposes the lowborn man at once.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 16]

Fear shows up lesser men.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Amaz'd, struck dumb, erected was my hair.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

I stood aghast! my hair rose on end, and my voice clung to my jaws.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

I stood appall'd, my hair erect,
And fear my tongue-tied utterance checked.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Aghast I stood, with hair
Erect: my voice clung to my throat.
[tr. Cranch (1872), ll. 1041-42]

I was motionless; my hair stood up, and the accents faltered on my tongue.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

I stood amazed, my hair rose up, nor from my jaws would pass
My frozen voice.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

Aghast I stood, tongue-tied, with stiffening hair.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 104, l. 935]

I quailed, my hair rose, and I gasped for fear.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

I was appalled, my hair stood up, and the voice clave to my throat.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

I was appalled: my hair stood on end, and my voice struck
In my throat.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

I was dismayed;
my hair stood stiff, my voice held fast within
my jaws.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), ll. 1043-45]

Chilled to the marrow, could feel the hair
On my head rise, the voice clot in my throat.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), ll. 1004-5]

I was paralyzed. My hair stood on end. My voice stuck in my throat.
[tr. West (1990)]

I was dumbfounded, my hair stood on end, and my voice
stuck in my throat.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

I was transfixed,
My hair stood on end, and my voice choked.
[tr. Lombardo (2005), ll. 913-14]

I froze. My hackles bristled, voice choked in my throat.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 960]

I was aghast. My hair stood up, my voice stuck in my throat.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Justice, which single virtue serves to give men the name and denomination of good, seems much the most admirable to the generality of people; and not without reason, it being impossible for any one to be just who is afraid at the approaches of death, of pain, of banishment, or poverty; or prefers those things which are contrary to these before the great duties of justice and honesty.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

Justice, from which alone good men receive their appellation, appears the most wonderful to the multitude; and with good reason: For no man can be just, who dreads death, pain, exile, want, or prefers to equity whatsoever is contrary to those.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

Justice, from which single virtue men are called good, appears to the multitude as something marvellous. And with good reason' for no man can be just if he is afraid of death, pain, exile, or poverty, or prefers their contraries to justice.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Justice, for which one virtue men are called good, seems to the multitude a quality of marvellous excellence, — and not without good reason; for no one can be just, who dreads death, pain, exile, or poverty, or who prefers their opposites to honesty.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

Justice, the possession of which entitles men to be called good, is looked upon by the masses as something miraculous; and rightly so, for no one can be just who fears death, pain, exile, or poverty, or who ranks the opposites of these above equity.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]

Justice, above all, on the basis of which alone men are called “good men,” seems to people generally a quite marvellous virtue -- and not without good reason; for no one can be just who fears death or pain or exile or poverty, or who values their opposites above equity.
[tr. Miller (1913)]

And justice in particular seems to the mass of people something amazing, and they are not wrong: good men achieve their reputation for goodness form that one virtue alone, and no man can be just who lives in fear of death, pain, exile, or poverty. If a man shuns fair-dealing in order to avoid these evils, he cannot be considered just.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

Courage recall, banish sad feare; delight
It may hereafter these things to recite,
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Resume your courage and dismiss your care.
An hour will come, with pleasure to relate
Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Resume then your courage, and dismiss your desponding fears; perhaps hereafter it may delight you to remember these sufferings.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Come, cheer your souls, your fears forget;
This suffering will yield us yet
⁠A pleasant tale to tell.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Recall your courage ; banish gloomy fears.
Some day perhaps the memory even of these
Shall yield delight.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]

Recall your courage, put dull fear away. This too sometime we shall haply remember with delight.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Come, call aback your ancient hearts and put your fears away!
This too shall be for joy to you remembered on a day.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

Fear not; take heart; hereafter, it may be
These too will yield a pleasant tale to tell.
[tr. Taylor (1907)]

Recall your courage and put away sad fear. Perchance even this distress it will some day be a joy to recall.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Call the nerve back; dismiss the fear, the sadness.
Some day, perhaps, remembering even this
Will be a pleasure.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Take heart again, oh, put your dismal fears away!
One day -- who knows? -- even these will be grand things to look back on.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

Call back
your courage, send away your grieving fear.
Perhaps one day you will remember even
these our adversities with pleasure.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 281ff]

Now call back
Your courage, and have done with fear and sorrow.
Some day, perhaps, remembering even this
Will be a pleasure.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 275ff]

So summon up your courage once again. This is no time for gloom or fear. The day will come, perhaps, when it will give you pleasure to remember even this.
[tr. West (1990)]

Remember your courage and chase away gloomy fears:
perhaps one day you’ll even delight in remembering this.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Recall your courage
And put aside your fear and grief. Someday, perhaps,
It will help to remember these troubles as well.
[tr. Lombardo (2005), l. 238ff]

Call up your courage again. Dismiss your grief and fear.
A joy it will be one day, perhaps, to remember even this.
[tr. Fagles (2006)]

Perhaps one day it will be a joy to remember also these things.
[tr. @sentantiq (2011)]

Summon your spirits back, and abandon your sad fear:
perhaps one day even these things will be a pleasing memory.
[tr. @sentantiq/Robinson (2015)]

Perhaps one day it will be a joy to remember even these things
[tr. @sentantiq (2016)]

One day we’re going to look back on even this and laugh (maybe).
[tr. Tortorelli (2017)]

Perhaps someday it will bring pleasure to recall these things.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]

Be brave, let go your fear and despair.
Perhaps someday even memory of this will bring you pleasure.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Now since the Disturbances of the Soul render the Life miserable, but the composure of them happy; and there is a double rank of Passions; in that, Discontent and Fear are terminated on Evils conceiv'd; but excessive Mirth and Lust arise from the misapprehension of good things, since all are inconsistent with Advice and Reason, if you shall see any one clear, emancipated, free from these emotions so vehement, so discordant one with the other, and so distracting, can you make any question of calling him Happy? But the Wise man is always so dispos'd, therefore the Wise man is always Happy.
[tr. Wase (1643)]

But as the perturbations of the mind make life miserable, and tranquility renders it happy: and as these perturbations are of two sorts; grief and fear, proceeding from imagined evils, immoderate joy and lust, from the mistake of what is good; and all these are in opposition to reason and counsel; when you see a man at ease, quite free and disengaged from such troublesome commotions, which are so much at variance with one another, can you hesitate to pronounce such a one a happy man? Now the wise man is always in such a disposition: therefore the wise man is always happy.
[tr. Main (1824)]

But when the perturbations render life unhappy, while their repose makes it happy -- and since the mode of perturbation is twofold -- sorrow and fear having birth from reputed evils -- the delirium of joy and desire, from the delusion of good, -- when all these are repugnant to counsel and reason, and you see a man void, exempt, free from these excitements, so vehement, so discordant, so distracted by mutual conflicts, -- will you hesitate to pronounce him happy? But the wise man is always thus, and therefore always happy.
[tr. Otis (1839)]

But as the perturbations of the mind make life miserable, and tranquillity renders it happy; and as these perturbations are of two sorts, grief and fear, proceeding from imagined evils, and as immoderate joy and lust arise from a mistake about what is good, and as all these feelings are in opposition to reason and counsel; when you see a man at ease, quite free and disengaged from such troublesome commotions, which are so much at variance with one another can you hesitate to pronounce such an one a happy man? Now the wise man is always in such a disposition, therefore the wise man is always happy.
[tr. Yonge (1853)]

Now since perturbations of mind create misery, while quietness of mind makes life happy, and since there are two kinds of perturbations, grief and fear having their scope in imagined evils, inordinate joy and desire in mistaken notions of the good, all being repugnant to wise counsel and reason, will you hesitate to call him happy whom you see relieved, released, free from these excitements so oppressive, and so at variance and divided among themselves? Indeed one thus disposed is always happy. Therefore the wise man is always happy.
[tr. Peabody (1886)]

He therefore, call him by what name you will, who through Moderation and Constancy, hath quiet of mind, and is at Peace with himself; so as neither to fret out of Discontent, nor to be confounded with Fear, who neither is inflam'd with an impatient longing after any thing, nor ravish'd out of himself into the Fools Paradice of an empty Mirth; this is the wise man, after whom we are in quest; this the Happy man.
[tr. Wase (1643)]

Whoever then, through moderation and consistency, is at rest in his mind, and in calm possession of himself, so as neither to pine with care, nor be dejected with fear, neither to be inflamed with desire, nor dissolved by extravagant joy, such a one is the very wise man we enquire after, the happy man.
[tr. Main (1824)]

Therefore the man, whoever he is, who has quiet of mind, through moderation and constancy, and thus at peace with himself, is neither corroded with cares, nor crippled by fear; and, thirsting for nothing impatiently, is exempt from the fires of desire, and, dizzied by the fumes of no futile felicity, reels with no riotous joy: this is the wise man we seek: this man is happy.
[tr. Otis (1839)]

Whoever, then, through moderation and constancy, is at rest in his mind, and in calm possession of himself, so as neither to pine with care, nor be dejected with fear, nor to be inflamed with desire, coveting something greedily, nor relaxed by extravagant mirth, -- such a man is that identical wise man whom we are inquiring for, he is the happy man.
[tr. Yonge (1853)]

Whoever then has his mind kept in repose by moderation and firmness, and is at peace with himself so that he is neither wasted by troubles nor broken down by fear, nor burns with longing in his thirsty quest of some object of desire, nor flows out in the demonstration of empty joy, is the wise man whom we seek; he is the happy man.
[tr. Peabody (1886)]

What say you of us that are alive, can we be other than miserable, since we must die? for what enjoyment can there be in life, when we are to think day and night that die we must of a certain, and it is uncertain whether this or the next Moment?
[tr. Wase (1643)]

What then? we that are alive, are we not wretched, seeing we must die? for what is there agreeable in life, when we must night and day reflect that we may instantly die?
[tr. Main (1824)]

But what? as to us who are alive, are we not miserable? For, what pleasantness can there be in life, when, by night and by day, we have to reflect already, even already, we are to die?
[tr. Otis (1839)]

What then? we that are alive, are we not wretched, seeing we must die? for what is there agreeable in life, when we must night and day reflect that, at some time or other, we must die?
[tr. Yonge (1853)]

Yet are not we who live miserable, seeing that we must die? For what pleasure can there be in life, while by day and by night we cannot but think that we may die at any moment?
[tr. Peabody (1886)]

But how then? Are not we, who live, miserable, seeing that we must die? For what pleasure can there be in life when, night and day, the thought cannot fail to haunt us, that at any moment we must die?
[tr. Black (1889)]

Aren't the living miserable, since we have to die? What joy can there be in life if day and night we are forced to consider the inevitable approach of death?
[tr. Habinek (1996)]

Are we not wretched, we who live though we must die? What joy can there be in life, when we must think day and night that we must at some time die?
[tr. @sententiq (2016)]

• "Pity is occasioned by undeserved misfortune, and fear by that of one like ourselves." [tr. Bywater (1909)]
• "Pity is concerned with unmerited ill-fortune, fear with what happens to one's like." [tr. Margoliouth (1911)]
• "Pity for the undeserved misfortune, fear for the man like ourselves." [tr. Fyfe (1932)]
• "We pity those who suffer undeservedly, and feel fear for people who are like ourselves." [tr. Janko (1987)]
• "The one [pity] is to do with the man brought to disaster undeservedly, the other [terror] is to do with [what happens to] men like us." [tr. Whalley (1997)]
• "One of these sentiments, namely pity, has to do with undeserved misfortune, and the other, namely fear, has to do with someone who is like ourselves." [tr. Sachs (2006)]