How now, who is heare?
I Robin of Doncastere,
And Margaret, my feare [wife]:
That I spent, that I had,
That I gave, that I have,
That I left, that I lost
A. D. 1579.
Quoth Robertus Byrks, who in this World did reign Three score years and seven, & yet lived not one.

And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.
[KJV (1611)]

And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[JB (1966)]

And if you lend to those from whom you hope to get money back, what credit can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good to them, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[NJB (1985)]

If you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, why should you be commended? Even sinners lend to sinners expecting to be paid back in full. Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend expecting nothing in return. If you do, you will have a great reward. You will be acting the way children of the Most High act, for he is kind to ungrateful and wicked people.
[CEB (2011)]

If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

Therfore, the surplus of thy goodes applye to better ende.
Why wante the silly needie soules refreshyng at thy hande?
Why doo the temples of the gods, without repayryng stande?
Thou corsye carle, thy countrey dere, from hougie substance suche
Shall she have naught, wylt onely thou devoure alone so muche?
[tr. Drant (1567)]

What then? Can there no better way be found
To spend that Wealth, with which you so abound?
Why should so many brave men want? and why
Should the Gods ancient Temples ruin'd lie
While you are rich? Vile wretch! Why wilt not thou
Out of thy needless store something allow
For thy dear Countries good?
[tr. A. F.; ed. Brome (1666)]

Then is there no way else to spend thy Store?
Why since thou'rt Rich, is any good Man Poor?
Why are not ruin'd Fanes rebuilt? And why
Doth not thy Wealth thy Neighbours wants supply?
And hath thy Country this superfluous Coin?
What measure hath it from this heap of Thine?
[tr. Creech (1684)]

And is there then, I ask, no other end
On which the surplus thou might'st nobly spend?
Say, why does merit starve in rags? or say,
Why fall our ancient temples to decay?
Why not from those superfluous hoards bestow
A mite to sooth thy burthen'd country's woe?
[tr. Howes (1845)]

Why then have you no better method of expending your superfluities? Why is any man, undeserving [of distressed circumstances], in want, while you abound? How comes it to pass, that the ancient temples of the gods are falling to ruin? Why do not you, wretch that you are, bestow something on your dear country, out of so vast a hoard?
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Then is there nothing on which you can spend your surplus income better? Why do any suffer want they don't deserve while you are rich? Why do the gods' time-honoured fanes fall to decay? And why, insatiate wretch, don't you mete out from those large stores of wealth some portion for your fatherland which should be dear?
[tr. Millington (1870)]

Untold indeed! then can you not expend
Your superflux on some diviner end?
Why does one good man want while you abound?
Why are Jove's temples tumbling to the ground?
O selfish! what? devote no modicum
To your dear country from so vast a sum?
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Well, is there no better object on which you can spend your surplus? Why is any worthy man in want, while you are rich? Why are the ancient temples of the gods in ruin? Why, shameless man, do you not measure out something from that great heap for your dear country?
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

And therefore there's no better way for you to unload
Thie surplus? Why should a single deserving man
Be in need when you are so rich? Why do the gods' ancient temples
Fall into ruin? Why not dig into your pile
And measure some out for your own dear country, you wretch?
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

If that's so and you have more
money than you need, why not spend it in a better way?
Why is anyone poor who shouldn't be, if you're so rich?
Why do the gods' old temples need repair? You ingrate,
for your beloved country's sake can't you dip into your stash?
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Well, in that case, why not find a better
way to spend your surplus? Why,
so long as you are rich, should anyone be lacking
in everything through no fault of his own?
Why are the ancient temples of the gods
falling into ruin? Why, shameless one,
do you not siphon off something
from that great reservoir of money
to present to your dear country?
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

There's nothing
better you could spend your surplus for?
Why's any good man poor while you're so rich?
The temples of the gods could use repair.
Are you so shameless you'll give nothing
to your country?
[tr. Matthews (2002)]

Well then, can't you think of a better way
to get rid of your surplus? Why should any decent man
be in need while you are rich> Why, if you've any conscience,
don't you give something from that pile you've made to the land of your birth?
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Well then, isn’t there something
Better you can spend the surplus on? Why, when you’re
Rich, are there any deserving men in need? Why are
The ancient temples of the gods in ruins? Why, man
Without shame, don’t you offer your dear country a tithe
From that vast heap?
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to D---, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they would escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colours, and enter that paradise which he painted as so desirable and inviting. There was a retired merchant of wealth in the audience, a little given to usury, M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloths and serges. Never, in the whole course of his life, had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate ; but from the date of this sermon it was noticed that he gave regularly, every Sunday, a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. The bishop chanced to see him one day, as he was performing this act of charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “See Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise.”
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

During one Lent a young vicar came to D.... and preached at the cathedral. He was rather eloquent, and the subject of his sermon was charity. He invited the rich to give to the needy in order to escape hell, which he painted in the most frightful way he could, and reach paradise, which he made desirable and charming. There was among the congregation a rich retired merchant, somewhat of an usurer, who had acquired $400,000 by manufacturing coarse cloths, serges, and caddis. In his whole lifetime M. Géborand had never given alms to a beggar, but after this sermon it was remarked that he gave every Sunday a cent to the old beggars at the cathedral gate. There were six women to share it. One day the bishop saw him bestowing his charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “Look at M. Géborand buying a bit of paradise for a cent.”
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

In the course of one Lent, a youthful vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. He was tolerably eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor, in order to avoid hell, which he depicted in the most frightful manner of which he was capable, and to win paradise, which he represented as charming and desirable. Among the audience there was a wealthy retired merchant, who was somewhat of a usurer, named M. Geborand, who had amassed two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serges, and woolen galloons. Never in his whole life had M. Geborand bestowed alms on any poor wretch. After the delivery of that sermon, it was observed that he gave a sou every Sunday to the poor old beggar-women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the Bishop caught sight of him in the act of bestowing this charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, "There is M. Geborand purchasing paradise for a sou."
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they were to escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colors, and enter paradise, which he portrayed as desirable and inviting. There was a wealthy retired merchant at the service, somewhat inclined to usury, a M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two million from manufacturing coarse cloth and woolens. Never in all his life had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate; but from the day of this sermon it was noticed that regularly every Sunday he gave a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the bishop, seeing him perform this act of charity, said to his sister with a smile, 'There's Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise."
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne and preached in the cathedral. He was quite eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor so to as avoid going to hell, which he depicted in the most dreadful terms he could, and to get to parasdise, which he represented as desirable and delightful. Among hsi audience was a somewhat tight-fisted retired wealthy merchant named Monsieur Géborand, who had amassed half a million in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serge, caddis and felt caps. Monsieur Géborand had never in his life been charitable to any poor unfortunate. After that sermon it was noticed he gave one sou every Sunday to the old beggar-women at the cathedral door. They had to share it between six of them. One day the bishop saw him making his donation and said to his sister with a smile, "There's Monsieur Géborand buying one sou's worth of paradise."
[tr. Donougher (2013)]

There are more people who wish to be loved than there are who are willing to love.
[Source (<1884)]

Men are more eager to be loved than anxious to love.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]

There are more people who want to be loved than there are people who want to love.
[tr. Dusinberre (1992)]

There are more people who want to be loved than people who want to love.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]

What we gave, we have;
What we spent, we had;
What we left, we lost.

We keep things by giving them to others. The dead carry in their clenched hands only that which they have given away; and the living carry only the love in their hearts which they have bestowed on others.

To have and not give is in some instances worse than stealing.
[tr. Scrase/Mieder (1994)]

Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: but I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.
[KJV (1611)]

You have learnt how it was said: Eye for eye and tooth for tooth. But I say this to you: offer the wicked man no resistance. On the contrary, if anyone hits you on the right cheek, offer him the other as well; if a man takes you to law and would have your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone orders you to go one mile, go two miles with him. Give to anyone who asks, and if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.
[JB (1966)]

You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." But now I tell you: do not take revenge on someone who wrongs you. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, let him slap your left cheek too. And if someone takes you to court to sue you for your shirt, let him have your coat as well. And if one of the occupation troops forces you to carry his pack one mile, carry it two miles. When someone asks you for something, give it to him; when someone wants to borrow something, lend it to him.
[GNT (1976)]

You have heard how it was said: Eye for eye and tooth for tooth. But I say this to you: offer no resistance to the wicked. On the contrary, if anyone hits you on the right cheek, offer him the other as well; if someone wishes to go to law with you to get your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone requires you to go one mile, go two miles with him. Give to anyone who asks you, and if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.
[NJB (1985)]

You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also, and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well, and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

This brother, of whom hardly a memory is left, was a quiet miser, who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor whom he met, but never gave them anything more than coppers or worn-out sous, finding thus the means of going to Hell by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); tr. Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]

This brother, who is not much remembered, was a great miser, who, as he was a priest, thought himself bound to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them aught but bad or called-in money, thus finding means of going to Hades by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

This brother, of whom but little memory remains, was a peaceable miser, who, being a priest, thought himself bound to bestow alms on the poor whom he met, but he never gave them anything except bad or demonetized sous, thereby discovering a means of going to hell by way of paradise.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

The brother, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a peaceable skinflint who, being a priest, felt it his duty to give alms to such of the poor as he encountered; but the coins he gave them were always obsolete currency, and thus he found means of going to Hell by way of Paradise.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

For virtue rather shows itself in treating others as we ought, than in being treated as we ought; and in doing noble acts, rather than in abstaining from disgraceful acts.
[tr. Williams (1869)]

For it is more truly distinctive of virtue to be the author than to be the recipient of benefactions, and to do what is noble than to abstain from doing what is shameful.
[tr. Welldon (1892)]

For it is more distinctive of virtue to do good to others than to have good done to you, and to do what is noble than not to do what is base.
[tr. Peters (1893)]

For it is more characteristic of virtue to do good than to have good done to one, and more characteristic to do what is noble than not to do what is base.
[tr. Ross (1908)]

Virtue is displayed in doing good rather than in having good done to one, and in performing noble acts rather than in avoiding base ones.
[tr. Rackham (1934)]

The good man thinks it more blessed to give than to receive, and virtue is more clearly shown in the performance of fine actions than in the non-performance of base ones.
[tr. Thomson (1953)]

Virtue consists more in doing good than in receiving it, and more in doing fine actions than in refraining from disgraceful ones.
[tr. Thomson/Tredennick (1976)]

For it is more proper to virtue to do good than to receive good, and more proper to do fine actions than not to do shameful ones.
[tr. Irwin (1999)]

For it is more characteristic of virtue to do good than to receive it, and to do noble actions than not to do shameful ones.
[tr. Crisp (2000)]

I have shewed you all things, how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.

• "Just as it is better to illuminate than merely to shine, so to pass on what one has contemplated is better than merely to contemplate."
• "Better to illuminate than merely to shine; to deliver to others contemplated truths than merely to contemplate."
• "Better to light up than merely to shine, to deliver to others contemplated truths than merely to contemplate." [Source]
• "For even as it is better to enlighten than merely to shine, so it is better to give to others the fruits of one's contemplation than merely to contemplate." [Source]

Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven: give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.
[KJV (1611)]

Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.
[JB (1966)]

Do not judge others, and God will not judge you; do not condemn others, and God will not condemn you; forgive others, and God will forgive you. Give to others, and God will give to you. Indeed, you will receive a full measure, a generous helping, poured into your hands -- all that you can hold. The measure you use for others is the one that God will use for you.
[GNT (1976)]

Don’t judge, and you won’t be judged. Don’t condemn, and you won’t be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good portion -- packed down, firmly shaken, and overflowing -- will fall into your lap. The portion you give will determine the portion you receive in return.
[CEB (2011)]

Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]

Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

He that loves prudently, keeps his Eyes upon the Giver, considers the Kindness and Disposition of his Friend, and values the Gift by that, not by his own Quality and Instrinsick Worth.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.), The Christian's Pattern]

And he that loves with purity, considers not the gift of the lover, but the love of the giver: he values the affection more than the tokens of it: esteems his beloved infinitely beyond the benefits he confers.
[tr. Payne (1803), 3.5.1]

A prudent lover considereth not so much the gift of his lover, as the love of the giver. He rather esteemeth the good will, then the value, and placeth all gifts under his beloved.
[tr. Page (1639), 3.6.5]

He that loves prudently, keeps his eyes upon the giver, considers the kindness and disposition of his friend, and values the gift by that, not by its own quality and intrinsic worth.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1809 ed.), The Christian's Pattern]

A considerate lover regardeth not so much the gift of Him who loves him, as the love of the Giver,He esteems the good will rather than the value [of the gift,] and sets all gifts below Him whom he loves.
[ed. Parker (1841)]

He that loves with purity, considers not the gift of the lover, but the love of the giver: he values the affection more than the tokens of it, and places all gifts infinitely below the donor.
[tr. Dibdin (1851), 3.5]

A wise lover considers not so much the gift of the lover as the love of the giver. He looks more at the goodwill than the value, and sets his beloved above all his gifts.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]

A wise lover considereth not so much the gift of his lover as he doth the love of the giver. He regardeth more the love than the gift, and accounteth all gifts little in comparison of his Beloved, who giveth them to him.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]

The prudent lover considereth not the gift of the lover so much as the love of the giver. He looketh for the affection more than the value, and setteth all gifts lower than the Beloved.
[tr. Benham (1874), 3.6.4]

A considerate lover regardeth not so much the gift of him who loves him, as the love of the giver. He esteems the good will rather than the value of the gift, and sets all gifts below him whom he loves.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]

The wise lover regards not so much the gift of Him Who loves as the love of Him Who gives. He regards the affection of the Giver rather than the value of the gift, and sets his Beloved above all gifts.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]

The wise lover does not so much consider a gift from the beloved, as the love of the giver. He turns to the feeling rather than the value, and sets all gifts below the one loved.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]

A wise lover values not so much the gift of the lover, as the love of the giver. He esteems the affection above the gift, and values every gift far below the Beloved.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]

An experienced lover heeds not so much the gift of the lover as the love of him that gave it. What he looks for is affection, not money; his Beloved is higher in his eyes than any gift.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]

A wise lover does not look at the gift of the one who loves him, but at the love of the giver. He weighs the affection and not the value; and he thinks more of the Beloved than of what the Beloved has to give.
[tr. Knott (1962)]

The prudent lover considers not so much the lover's gift as the love of the giver. He looks at the love that gave the gift rather than the cost. He places the beloved above all.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]