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.)]

La promptitude avec laquelle nous croyons le mal, sans l’avoir assez examiné, est un effet de la paresse et de l’orgueil.
 
[The readiness with which we believe evil, without having examined it sufficiently, is an effect of laziness and pride.]

A readiness to believe Ill, before we have duly Examined it, is the Effect of Laziness and Pride. Men are pleased to find Others to Blame and loth to give Themselves the Trouble of Enquiring, how far, and whether they are so, or not.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶268]

A readiness to believe ill without examination is the effect of pride and laziness. We are willing to find people guilty, and unwilling to be at the trouble of examining into the accusation.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶245; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶250]

A willingness to believe ill, without examination, is the effect of pride and idleness. We are ready to suppose guilt, but unwilling to be at the trouble of examining into the accusation.
[ed. Carvill (1835), ¶214]

Readiness; to believe evil without sufficient examination is the result of pride and indolence. We wish to find people guilty, and we do not wish to give ourselves the trouble of examining into the crimes.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶278]

A quickness in believing evil without having sufficiently examined it, is the effect of pride and laziness. We wish to find the guilty, and we do not wish to trouble ourselves in examining the crime.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871), ¶267]

A ready belief of evil without examining the facts is a form of pride, or of indolence. We are anxious to ferret out criminals without taking the pains of examining their crimes.
[tr. Heard (1917), ¶275]

Readiness to believe evil without adequate inquiry is the result of pride and indolence. We like detecting criminals, but we dislike the labor of investigating crimes.
[tr. Stevens (1939), ¶267]

The promptitude with which we will believe evil of others, without an adequate examination of the facts, is an effect of pride working with laziness. We wish to find the guilty men, and cannot be be bothered to study the crime.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957), ¶267]

Readiness to believe the worst without adequate examination comes from pride and laziness; we want to find culprits but cannot be bothered to investigate the crimes.
[tr. Tancock (1959), ¶267]

A readiness to believe evil without sufficient examination, it is an effect both of pride and of idleness. On the one hand, we desire to find other people guilty; and on the other, we do not wish to take the pains necessary to examine their crimes.
[tr. Whichello (2016) ¶267]

First, though my life is pure from guilt, my name
Is infamous; this ill, this charge of crimes
From which the soul is free, is more severe
Than what from truth arises.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 304ff]

First of all exposed
To slanderous tongues, although I ne'er have erred.
It were a lesser evil e'en to sin
Than be suspected falsely.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

First indeed, not being unjust, I am in ill repute; and this is a greater evil than the truth, when any one is charged with evils he does not possess.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

First, although I never acted wrongly, my good name is gone. And this trouble is stronger than the reality, if someone incurs blame for wrongs that are not his own.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

First, an ill name, though I am clean of sin;
And worse is this than suffering for just cause,
To bear the burden of sins that are not ours.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]

First, I have lost my name, thought I have done no wrong;
and it is worse than suffering what one deserves
if one must suffer for the things one never did.
[tr. Warner (1951)]

In the first place, though I am innocent, my name is a byword of reproach; and if there is any worse fate than suffering for real crimes, it is suffering for crimes that were never committed.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]

I have done nothing wrong and yet my reputation
is bad, and worse than a true evil is it to bear
the burden of faults that are not truly yours.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]

First of all, I am blameless,
and yet I am blamed.
It is easier to bear what belongs to you
than what does not.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]

Firstly, I have done nothing wrong and yet my name is reviled. When someone is punished though innocent of crime, it is a worse affliction than getting his just deserts.
[tr. Davie (2002)]

First, although I never sinned, my good name is gone. And this is a grief beyond the reality, if a man incurs blame for sins that are not his.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]

First, I am not wicked, but people think I am.
There's nothing worse than being innocent,
But treated as guilty.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]

To begin with, my good reputation has been destroyed though I have done nothing wrong, and there’s nothing worse than to be burdened by the shame which one has not earned.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]

First, though I’ve done nothing wrong, my name is loathed.
It’s so much worse to be scorned for things you haven’t done
than to suffer honest charges!
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]

First, although I never acted wrongly, my good name is gone. And this trouble [kakon] is stronger than the truth [alētheia], if someone incurs blame for evils [kaka] that are not his own. [tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]

Is there anyone, then, except those who rejoiced in his kingly sway, who either was unwilling that the deed should be done or has impugned it since? All therefore share in the fault, for all loyal citizens, so far as rested with them, took part in Cæsar's death. Some wanted the necessary powers of contrivance, some the courage, some the opportunity; but not one the will.
[tr. King (1877)]

Is there then any man, except those that were glad of his reign, who repudiated that deed, or disapproved of it when it was done? All therefore are to blame, for all good men, so far as their own power went, slew Caesar; some lacked a plan, others courage, others opportunity: will no man lacked.
[tr. Ker (Loeb) (1926)]

Is there any one then, except you yourself and these men who wished him to become a king, who was unwilling that that deed should be done, or who disapproved of it after it was done? All men, therefore, are guilty as far as this goes. In truth, all good men, as far as it depended on them, bore a part in the slaying of Caesar. Some did not know how to contrive it, some had not courage for it, some had no opportunity, -- every one had the inclination.
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

Yet, with the exception of the men who wanted to make an autocratic monarch of him, all were happy for this to happen -- or were glad when it had happened. So everyone is guilty! For every decent person, in so far as he had any say in the matter, killed Caesar! Plans, courage, opportunities were in some case lacking; but the desire nobody lacked.
[tr. Grant (1960)]

Is there anyone, with the exception of those who were happy that he was our king, who did not want it done or disapproved that it was done? Everyone is at fault, then. Indeed, all decent men, as far as they could, killed Caesar; some may have lacked a plan, others courage, and still others the opportunity, but no one lacked the desire.
[tr. McElduff (2011)]

For what moral difference is there between urging an action and approving of it? or what matter does it make whether I wished for the deed or rejoice that it was done?
[tr. King (1877)]

For what difference is there between the adviser and the approver of a deed? or what does it matter whether I wished it done, or was glad that it was done?
[tr. Ker (Loeb) (1926)]

For what is the difference between a man who has advised an action, and one who has approved of it? or what does it signify whether I wished it to be done, or rejoice that it has been done?
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

What difference is there between him who instigates and him who approves the crime?
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]

For between the man who advises an action and the man who approves when it is done there is not the slightest difference. Whether I wished the deed to be performed or am glad after its performance, is wholly immaterial.
[tr. Grant (1960)]

For what is the difference between someone who suggests something and someone who applauds it? What does it matter whether I wanted it done or am delighted that it was done?
[tr. McElduff (2011)]

Men are naturally most concerned at misfortunes which have been incurred by their own fault.
[tr. Watson (1896)]

Men ought to be most annoyed by the sufferings which come from their own faults.
[ed. Hoyt (1896)]

Men ought to feel most vexed at what has been brought upon them by their own fault.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1900), # 29]

It is the misfortunes for which they are ourselves to blame that ought to distress people the most.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1978), # 1]

Whatever Reason we may find for the Passion that subdues us, we shall always be a little ashm'd to own it.
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]

Whatever reason we may find for the passion that subdues us, we always feel some shame in owning it.
[tr. Van Laun (1876)]

Whatever reasons we may find to justify the love that conquers us, there is always a certain shame attached to the avowal of it.
[tr. Wall (1879)]

Whatever gratification we may find for the passion that subdues us, we shall always be rather ashamed to own it.
[tr. Mathew (1890). 4.4]

Whatever reasons we may find for the love which conquers us, there is always a little shame in the avowal of it.
[tr. Waller (1903)]

Whatever cause we find to justify
The love that masters us, we still must feel
Some little shame in owning it.
[tr. Page (1909)]

Even though overmastered by our feelings,
We always find it shameful to admit them.
[tr. Bishop (1957)]

However strong and justified our flame,
We never can admit it without shame.
[tr. Frame (1967)]

No matter how much love persuades us,
we always feel a tiny bit of shame.
[tr. Steiner (2008)]

None answer'd this; but after Silence spake
A Vessel of a more ungainly Make:
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry;
What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"
[tr. FitzGerald, 1st ed. (1859), # 63]

None answer'd this; but after Silence spake
A Vessel of a more ungainly Make:
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry;
What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 93]

After a momentary silence spake
Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make;
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry:
What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"
[tr. FitzGerald, 3rd ed. (1872), # 86; also 4th ed. and 5th ed. (1889)]

Thou who commandest the quick and the dead, the wheel of heaven obeys thy hand. What if I am evil, am I not Thy slave? Which then is the guilty one? Art Thou not Lord of all?
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 344; in some # 345]

The potter did himself these vessels frame,
What makes him cast them out to scorn and shame?
If he has made them well, why should he break them?
And though he marred them, they are not to blame.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 52]

Who framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou?
Who turns the wheel of baleful fate but Thou?
We are Thy slaves, our wills are not our own,
We are Thy creatures, our creator Thou!
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 242]

Who framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou?
Who turns the troublous wheel of heaven but Thou?
Though we are sinful slaves, is it for Thee
To blame us? Who created us but Thou?
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 471]

From God's own hand this earthly vessel came,
He shaped it thus, be it for fame or shame;
If it be fair -- to God be all the praise,
If it be foul -- to God alone the blame.
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]

Almighty Potter, on whose wheel of blue
The world is fashioned and is broken too,
Why to the race of men is heaven so dire?
In what, O wheel, have I offended you?
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]

Our Guardian chose our natures. Is He then
Delinquent when He treats us with disorder?
We ask: "Why break the best of us?" and murmur:
"Is the pot guilty if it stands awry?"
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967), # 93]

When the Maker formed nature
Why imperfect was the venture
If it is good, why departure
And if bad, why form capture?
[tr. Shahriari (1998), literal]

When the Creator forged the shape
Why was mankind a mere ape?
If it were good, why cloak and cape?
If unsightly, why this rape?
[tr. Shahriari (1998), figurative]

One can no more prevent the mind from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to a shore. In the case of the sailor, this is called the tide; in the case of the guilty, it is called remorse. God upheaves the soul as well as the ocean.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

It is no more possible to prevent thought from reverting to an idea than the sea from returning to the shore. With the sailor this is called the tide; with the culprit it is called remorse; God heaves the soul like the ocean.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

One can no more prevent thought from recurring to an idea than one can the sea from returning to the shore: the sailor calls it the tide; the guilty man calls it remorse; God upheaves the soul as he does the ocean.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

We can no more prevent a thought returning to the mind than we can prevent the sea from rising on the foreshore. To the sailor it is the tide, to the uneasy conscience it is remorse. God moves the soul as He moves the oceans.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

The mind is no more to be prevented from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to the shore. For the sailor this is called the tide. For the guilty man, it is called remorse. God stirs the soul as he causes the ocean to swell.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]

I notiss one thing, when a man stubs his toe he cussess all kreashun fust, then the toe, but never himself.
 
[I notice one thing, when a man stubs his toe he cusses all creation first, then the toe, but never himself.]

This soul is full of darkness, and sin is committed, but the guilty person is not the man who commits the sin, but he who produces the darkness.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

This soul is full of shadow; sin is therein committed. The guilty one is not the person who has committed the sin, but the person who has created the shadow.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

The soul in darkness sins, but the real sinner is he who caused the darkness.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

In any benighted soul -- that's where sin will be committed. It's not he who commits the sin that's to blame, but he who causes the darkness to prevail.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]

SUNDAY SCHOOL. A prison in which children do penance for the evil conscience of their parents.
A Book of Burlesques, "The Jazz Webster" (1924)

If any one shall infringe any of these laws, let him bear the penalty.
[tr. Barham (1842)]

If any one shall infringe any of these laws, let him be liable to a penalty.
[tr. Barham/Yonge (1878)]

The punishment for violation of any of these laws shall fit the offense.
[tr. Keyes (1928)]

Whatever of these someone has violated, let the penalty be equivalent to the crime.
[tr. Zetzel (1999)]

Whatever of these matters someone departs from, let there be a penalty equal to the wrongdoing.
[tr. Fott (2013)]

Whatever someone has violated, let the punishment match the offense.
[Bartelett's]

For I still thought "that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us"; and it delighted my pride, to be free from blame; and when I had done any evil, not to confess I had done any, that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee: but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in truth it was wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me against myself: and that sin was the more incurable, whereby I did not judge myself a sinner.
[tr. Pusey (1838)]

For I still thought, "that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us;" and it delighted my pride to be free from blame, and when I had done any evil, not to confess I had done any, that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee: but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in truth it was wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me against myself: and that sin was the more incurable, whereby I did not judge myself a sinner.
[ed. Shedd (1860)]

For it still seemed to me “that it was not we that sin, but that I know not what other nature sinned in us.” And it gratified my pride to be free from blame and, after I had committed any fault, not to acknowledge that I had done any, -- "that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee;" but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse something else (I wot not what) which was with me, but was not I. But assuredly it was wholly I, and my impiety had divided me against myself; and that sin was all the more incurable in that I did not deem myself a sinner.
[tr. Pilkington (1876)]

For I still believed “that sin was not a voluntary act , but that some other nature, I knew not what, sinned in us;” and it flattered my pride to regard myself as free from fault; and when I had done anything wrong, not to admit that I had done it, “that Thou mightest heal my soul, because it had sinned against Thee;” but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse that which was in me, I knew not what, save that it was not myself. But indeed it was all myself, and my iniquity it was which had divided me against myself; and the sin which led me to deny, that I myself was a sinner, was on that account all the more incurable.
[tr. Hutchings (1890)]

For as yet I held that it is not we who sin, but that some alien nature sins in us; and my pride delighted in the thought that I was not to blame, and that, when I had done evil I need not confess that I had done it, to the end that Thou mightest heal my soul, because I had sinned against Thee. But I loved to excuse my soul, and lay the guilt on something else, which was with me and was not myself. But in truth I was one, and nothing but my iniquity had divided me against myself; and the thought that I was not a sinner was the deadlier part of my sin.
[tr. Bigg (1897)]

For I still held the view that it was not we that sinned, but some other nature sinning in us; and it pleased my pride to be beyond fault, and when I did any evil not to confess that I had done it, that You might heal my soul because it had sinned against You: I very much preferred to excuse myself and accuse some other thing that was in me but was not I. But in truth I was wholly I, it was my impiety that had divided me against myself. My sin was all the more incurable because I thought I was not a sinner.
[tr. Sheed (1943)]

For it still seemed to me “that it is not we who sin, but some other nature sinned in us.” And it gratified my pride to be beyond blame, and when I did anything wrong not to have to confess that I had done wrong -- “that thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against thee” -- and I loved to excuse my soul and to accuse something else inside me (I knew not what) but which was not I. But, assuredly, it was I, and it was my impiety that had divided me against myself. That sin then was all the more incurable because I did not deem myself a sinner.
[tr. Outler (1955)]

I still thought that it was not ourselves who sin, but that some sort of different nature within us commits the sin. It gave joy to my pride to be above all guilt, and when I did an evil deed, not to confess that I myself had done it, so that you might heal my soul, since it had sinned against you. I loved to excuse myself, and to accuse I know not what other being that was present with me but yet was not I. But in truth I was the one whole being, and my own impiety had divided me against myself. That sin was the more incurable whereby I judged myself to be no sinner.
[tr. Ryan (1960)]

For I was still of the opinion that it is not we ourselves who sin, but some other nature which is in us; it gratified my pride to think that I was blameless and, if I did something wrong, not to confess that I had done it, so that you might heal my soul, because my soul had sinned against you. Instead I liked to excuse myself and accuse something else -- something that was in me, but was not really I. But in fact I was wholly I and it was my impiety which had divided one me from another me. My sin was all the more incurable because I imagined that I was not a sinner.
[tr. Warner (1963)]

I still believed that it is not we who sin, but some undefined "nature" within us, and to be thus faultless was joy to my pride, as it was not to confess some evil I had done that you might heal my soul when I had sinned in your sight. I loved to excuse myself and blame something else which was with me, but not I. But truly it was wholly I, and my wickedness had divided me against myself. That sin was more incurable in which I did not consider myself a sinner.
[tr. Blaiklock (1983)]

Viewing unhappy Dido's wals, which shone
With flames, the cause such fire had rais'd, unknown;
But what a woman might in sorrow drown'd,
Struck deep with grief and burning love was found;
And by sad auguries Trojans understand.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze,
Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze.
The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind
The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd;
He knew the stormy souls of womankind,
What secret springs their eager passions move,
How capable of death for injur'd love.
Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw;
Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

... looking back at the walls which now glare with the flames of unfortunate Elisa. What cause may have kindled such a blaze is unknown; but the thought of those cruel agonies that arise from violent love when injured, and the knowledge of what frantic woman can do, led the minds of the Trojans through dismal forebodings.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

He saw the city glaring with the flames
Of the unhappy Dido. What had lit
This fire, they knew not; but the cruel pangs
From outraged love, and what a woman's rage
Could do, they know; and through the Trojans' thoughts
Pass sad forebodings of the truth.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]

... looking back on the city that even now gleams with hapless Elissa's funeral flame. Why the broad blaze is lit lies unknown; but the bitter pain of a great love trampled, and the knowledge of what woman can do in madness, draw the Teucrians' hearts to gloomy guesses.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

... Still looking back upon the walls now litten by the flame
Of hapless Dido: though indeed whence so great burning came
They knew not; but the thought of grief that comes of love defiled
How great it is, what deed may come of woman waxen wild,
Through woeful boding of the sooth the Teucrians' bosoms bore.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

... And backward on the city bent his gaze,
Bright with the flames of Dido. Whence the blaze
Arose, they knew not; but the pangs they knew
When love is passionate, and man betrays,
And what a frantic woman scorned can do,
And many a sad surmise their boding thoughts pursue
[tr. Taylor (1907)]

         ... but when his eyes
looked back on Carthage, they beheld the glare
of hapless Dido's fire. Not yet was known
what kindled the wild flames; but that the pang
of outraged love is cruel, and what the heart
of desperate woman dares, they knew too well,
and sad foreboding shook each Trojan soul.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

... looking back on the city walls which now gleam with unhappy Elissa's funeral flames. What cause kindled so great a flame is unknown; but the cruel pangs when deep love is profaned, and knowledge of what a woman can do in frenzy, lead the hearts of the Trojans amid sad forebodings.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

         His gaze went back
To the walls of Carthage, glowing in the flame
Of Dido’s funeral pyre. What cause had kindled
So high a blaze, they did not know, but anguish
When love is wounded deep, and the way of a woman
With frenzy in her heart, they knew too well,
And dwelt on with foreboding.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

He looked back at Carthage's walls; they were lit up now by the death-fires
Of tragic Dido. Why so big a fire should be burning
Was a mystery: but knowing what a woman is capable of
When insane with the grief of having her love cruelly dishonoured
Started a train of uneasy conjecture in the Trojans' minds.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]

         ... gazing
back -- watching where the walls of Carthage glowed
with sad Elissa's flames. They cannot know
what caused so vast a blaze, and yet the Trojans
know well the pain when passion is profaned
and how a woman driven wild can act;
their hearts are drawn through dark presentiments.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]

         But he kept his eyes
Upon the city far astern, now bright
With poor Elissa's pyre. What caused that blaze
Remained unknown to watchers out at sea,
But what they knew of a great love profaned
In anguish, and a desperate woman's nerve,
Led every Trojan heart into foreboding.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]

... looking back at the walls of Carthage, glowing now in the flames of poor Dido's pyre. No one understood what had lit such a blaze, but since they all knew what bitter suffering is caused when a great love is desecrated and what a woman is capable when driven to madness, the minds of the Trojans were filled with dark foreboding.
[tr. West (1990)]

... looking back at the city walls that were glowing now with
unhappy Dido’s funeral flames. The reason that such a fire had
been lit was unknown: but the cruel pain when a great love is
profaned, and the knowledge of what a frenzied woman might do,
drove the minds of the Trojans to sombre forebodings.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

... he glanced back at the walls of Carthage
set aglow by the fires of tragic Dido’s pyre.
What could light such a conflagration? A mystery --
but the Trojans know the pains of a great love
defiled, and the lengths a woman driven mad can go,
and it leads their hearts down ways of grim foreboding.
[tr. Fagles (2006)]

... gazing back at city walls lit up by the flames -- poor Dido's pyre. No one knew what caused the blaze, but they knew the great grief of a love betrayed and what a woman's passion could unleash. Their hearts were somber with foreboding.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

For he that considers the order of Nature, and the Vicissitudes of Life, and the Frailty of Mankind is not melancholly when he considers these things, but is then most principally imploy'd in the exercise of Wisdom, for he reaps a double advantage; both that in the consideration of man's circumstances, he enjoyeth the proper Office of Philosophy; and in case of Adversity, he is supported by a threefold Consolation. First, that he hath long consider'd that such accidents might come; which consideration alone doth most weaken and allay all Afflictions. Then he cometh to learn, that all Tryals common to men, should be born, as such, patiently. Lastly, that he perceiveth there is no Evil, but where is blame; but there is no blame, when that falls out, the Prevention of which, was not in man to warrant.
[tr. Wase (1643)]

For whoever reflects on the nature of things, the various turns of life, the weakness of human nature, grieves indeed at that reflection; but that grief becomes him as a wise man, for he gains these two points by it; when he is considering the state of human nature he is enjoying all the advantage of philosophy, and is provided with a triple medicine against adversity. The first is, that he has long reflected that such things might befall him, which reflection alone contributes much towards lessening all misfortunes: the next is, that he is persuaded, that we should submit to the condition of human nature: the last is, that he discovers what is blameable to be the only evil. But it is not your fault that something lights on you, which it was impossible for man to avoid.
[tr. Main (1824)]

For neither does he who contemplates the nature of things, the mutations of life, the fragility of man, grieve when he thinks of these matters, but then most especially exercises the office of wisdom. For, by the study of human affairs, he at once pursues the proper aim of philosophy, and provides himself with a triple consolation for adverse events: -- first, that he has long deemed them possible to arrive; which one consideration has the greatest efficacy for the extenuation and mitigation of all misfortune: and, next, he perceives that human accidents are to be borne like a man: and, finally, because he sees there is no evil but fault, and that there is no fault where that has happened which man could not have prevented.
[tr. Otis (1839)]

Indeed, he who thinks of the nature of things, of the varying fortune of life, of the weakness of the human race, does not sorrow when these things are on his mind, but he then most truly performs the office of wisdom; for from such thought there are two consequences, -- the one, that he discharges the peculiar function of philosophy; the other, that in adversity he has the curative aid of a threefold consolation: first, because, as he has long thought what may happen, this sole thought is of the greatest power in attenuating and diluting every trouble; next, because he understands that human fortunes are to be borne in a way befitting human nature; -- lastly, because he sees that there is no evil but guilt, while there is no guilt in the happening of what man could not have prevented.
[tr. Peabody (1886)]

For the person who reflects on the nature of things, on the variety of life, and the precarity of human existence is not sad in considering these things but is carrying out the duty of wisdom in the fullest way. For they pursue both in enjoying the particular harvest of philosophy by considering what happens in human life and in suffering adverse outcomes by cleansing with a three-part solace. First, by previously accepting the possibility of misfortune—which is the most way of weakening and managing any annoyance and second, by learning that human events must be endured humanely; and third, by recognizing that there is nothing evil except for blame and there is no blame when the event is something against which no human can endure.
[tr. @sentantiq (2021)]

• "That it is the mind sins, not the body; and that where intention was wanting guilt could not be." [tr. Spillan (1896)]
• "The mind sins, not the body, and there is no guilt when intent is absent." [tr. Luce]
• "The mind sins, not the body; and where the power of judgment has been absent, guilt is absent." [Source]
• "The mind alone was capable of sinning, not the body, and that where there was no such intention, there could be no guilt." [tr. Baker (1823)]
• "It is the mind that sins, not the body, and where there has been no consent there is no guilt." [tr. Roberts (1905)]
• "It is the mind that sins, not the body; and that where purpose has been wanting there is no guilt." [tr. Foster (1919)]
• "It is the will only that is capable of sinning, not the body; and where there is no intention, there can be no guilt." [Source]

People, whose own Conduct is the most ridiculous, are always readiest to detract from that of others.
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]

They whose own conduct is the most ridiculous are always the first to slander others.
[tr. Van Laun (1876)]

The people whose conduct offers the greatest hold to ridicule are always the first to speak unkindly of others.
[tr. Wall (1879)]

People whose conduct is the most ridiculous, are always the readiest to run down that of others.
[tr. Mathew (1890)]

Those who are the most ridiculous in their own conduct are always the first to libel others.
[tr. Waller (1903)]

Those whose own conduct's most ridiculous,
Are always quickest to speak ill of others.
[tr. Page (1909)]

Those whose behavior is ridiculous
Always are first to see the faults of others.
[tr. Bishop (1957)]

Those whose behavior is most asinine
Are always more than ready to malign.
[tr. Frame (1967)]

Since they are always talked about,
They're sniffing other scandal out.
[tr. Bolt (2002)]

It's always the most ridiculous people who are the first to slander others.
[tr. Steiner (2008)]

People with the most to hide are always the worst.
Always the first to criticize others.
[tr. Campbell (2013)]

Those whose conduct gives room for talk
Are always the first to attack their neighbors.
[Bartlett's]

• "When the guilty man is let off, the judge stands condemned."
• "The judge is condemned when the criminal is acquitted." [tr. Lyman (1856), #868]

Thus good men to themselves long life can give,
T' enjoy our former life is twice to live.
[tr. May (1629)]

Each must, in vertue, strive for to excell;
That man lives twice, that lives the first life well.
[tr. Herrick (1648)]

He liveth twice, who can the Gift retain
Of Mem'ry, to enjoy past Life again.
[tr. Cotton (1685)]

Thus a good man prolongs his mortal date;
Lives twice, enjoying thus his former slate.
[tr. Hay (1755)]

For he lives twice who can at once employ
The present well, and e'en the past enjoy.
[tr. Pope (1713)]

They stretch the limits of this narrow span;
And, by enjoying, live past life again.
[tr. Lewis (1750)]

A good man amplifies the span of his existence ; for this is to live twice, to be able to find enjoyment in past life.
[tr. Amos (1858); he gives several other contemporary uses and translations.]

A good man lengthens his term of existence; to be able to enjoy our past life is to live twice.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]

So good men lengthen life; and to recall
The past, is to have twice enjoyed it all.
[tr. Stevenson (c. 1883)]

The good man prolongs his life; to be able to enjoy one's past life is to live twice.
[Bartlett's (1891)]

A good man has a double span of life,
For to enjoy past life is twice to live.
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]

A good man widens for himself his age's span; he lives twice who can find delight in life bygone.
[tr. Ker (1919)]

Redoubled happiness and life hath he
Whose joy doth live again in memory.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]

The good man lengthens out his earthly skein,
For living in the past is life again.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #525]

A good man's life is doubly long,
For he lives twice who, day and night,
Can in his whole past take delight.
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]

Virtue extends our days: he lives two lives who relives his past with pleasure.
[Bartlett's (1968)]

A good man enlarges for himself his span of life. To be able to enjoy former life is to live twice over.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]

The good man has no ugly past he would forget,
So memory gives him doubled life without regret.
[tr. Ericsson (1995)]

He does not deplore life's brevity.
For virtue is itself longevity.
[tr. Wills (2007)]

When I remember,
success, failure,
friend, enemy,
wife, lover
I live twice over.
[tr. Kennelly (2008), "Living"]

A good man can expand his life: he lives
twice over whose past life can be enjoyed.
[tr. McLean (2014)]

The good man broadens for himself the span of his years: to be able to enjoy the life you have spent, is to live it twice.
[tr. Nisbet (2015)]

There is such a thing as voluntary blindness which is little better than collusion.
[tr. Moffett (1898)]

Into the composition of every happiness enters the thought of having deserved it.
[tr. Calvert (1866), ch. 5]

It is an element of all happiness to fancy that we deserve it.
[tr. Collins (1928), ch. 5]

Not to be giltye or war wan at anye falte at all,
A bulwarke that, to beare all bruntes, be that the brasen wall.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

Be this a wall of Brass, to have within
No black accuser, harbour no pale sin.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Be this thy Guard, and this thy strong defence,
A vertuous Heart, and unstain'd Innocence;
Not to be conscious of a shameful sin:
Nor yet look pale for Scarlet Crimes within.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

True, conscious Honour is to feel no sin,
He ’s arm'd without that’s innocent within;
Be this thy Screen, and this thy Wall of Brass.
[tr. Pope (1737), ll. 93-95]

Be this thy brazen bulwark of defence,
Still to preserve thy conscious innocence,
Nor e'er turn pale with guilt.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Be good, then, and be great;
This be your tower of strength, your throne of state;
To keep your heart unconscious of a sin,
And feel no goadings of remorse within!
[tr. Howes (1845)]

Let this be a [man’s] brazen wall, to be conscious of no ill, to turn pale with no guilt.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Be this your wall of brass, your coat of mail,
A guileless heart, a cheek no crime turns pale.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Let this be a wall of brass around you -- "Not to be conscious of crime, or of any fault which spreads paleness over the countenance."
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Be this our wall of bronze, to have no guilt at heart, no wrongdoing to turn us pale.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

And this bronze wall should be ours: to let no shame
Steal across our faces, no guilt steal into our hearts.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

Make this your barrier of bronze,
that no crime burdens you, no guilt has turned you pale.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Let a man stand
Behind this bronze wall:
Never guilty,
Never pale with sin, and fear
Of sin.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

Let this be our defense: not to have any
Wrongdoing on our conscience to worry over.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

So let this be your wall of brass:
to have nothing on your conscience, nothing to give you a guilty pallor.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Let that be your wall of bronze,
To be free of guilt, with no wrongs to cause you pallor.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

For the criminality and injustice of the act stands essentially in the deliberate principle on which it is done.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

For vice and wrong-doing depend on the moral purpose.
[tr. Jebb (1873)]

It is deliberate purpose that constitutes wickedness and criminal guilt.
[tr. Roberts (1924)]

For vice and wrongdoing consist in the moral purpose.
[tr. Freese (1926)]

For the immorality and wrongness of an act depend on intentional choice.
[tr. Waterfield (2018)]

CONSCIENCE. The inner voice which warns us that someone is looking.
[A Book of Burlesques, "The Jazz Webster" (1924)]

Conscience is the inner voice which warns us that someone may be looking.
[Chrestomathy, ch. 30 "Sententiae" (1949)]

He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.
[KJV (1611)]

If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.
[JB (1966)]

Let the one among you who is guiltless be the first to throw a stone at her.
[NJB (1985)]

Whichever one of you has committed no sin may throw the first stone at her.
[GNT (1992 ed.)]

Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]