May I in modesty delight,
Best present which the Gods can give.
Nor torn by jarring passions live
A prey to wrath and canker'd spite.
Still envious of a rival's charms,
Nor rouse the endless strife
While on my soul another Wife,
Impresses vehement alarms:
On us, dread Queen, thy mildest influence shed.
Thou who discern'st each crime that stains the nuptial bed.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]

May no distracting thoughts destroy
The holy calm of sacred love!
May all the hours be winged with joy,
Which hover faithful hearts above!
Fair Venus! on thy myrtle shrine
May I with some fond lover sigh!
Whose heart may mingle pure with mine,
With me to live, with me to die!
[tr. Byron (1807)]

The noblest present of the skies,
Be modest temperance mine:
May no unruly passions rise,
Nor pride and hate combine
Their baleful venom wide to spread,
And kindling rage and jealous strive,
Embitter all the joys of life,
In vengeance for the injur'd bed,
O Venus, prompt connubial peace t' approve,
And quick to mark the faults of wand'ring love!
[tr. Potter (1814)]

But be my guardian chastity,
The god's best gift, nor let my mind,
By cruel Cypris forced awry,
The burden of hot anger find,
Of gnawing jealousy;
But may she, pleasured with calm wedded lives,
Wisely adjudge their lots to wives.
[tr. Webster (1868)]

On me may chastity, heaven’s fairest gift, look with a favouring eye; never may Cypris, goddess dread, fasten on me a temper to dispute, or restless jealousy, smiting my soul with mad desire for unlawful love, but may she hallow peaceful married life and shrewdly decide whom each of us shall wed.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

But may temperance preserve me, the noblest gift of heaven; never may dreaded Venus, having smitten my mind for another's bed, heap upon me jealous passions and unabated quarrels, but approving the peaceful union, may she quick of perception sit in judgment on the bed of women.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

But let Temperance shield me, the fairest of gifts of the Gods ever-living:
Nor ever with passion of jarring contention, nor feuds unforgiving,
In her terrors may Love's Queen visit me, smiting with maddened unrest
For a couch mismated my soul: but the peace of the bride-bed be holden
In honour of her, and her keen eyes choose for us bonds that be best
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

The pent hate of the word that cavilleth,
The strife that hath no fill,
Where once was fondness; and the mad heart's breath
For strange love panting still:
O Cyprian, cast me not on these; but sift,
Keen-eyed, of love the good and evil gift.
Make Innocence my friend, God's fairest star,
Yea, and abate not
The rare sweet beat of bosoms without war,
That love, and hate not.
[tr. Murray (1906)]

Let my heart be wise.
It is the gods’ best gift.
On me let mighty Cypris
Inflict no wordy wars or restless anger
To urge my passion to a different love.
[tr. Warner (1944)]

Let Innocence, the gods' loveliest gift,
Choose me for her own;
Never may the dread Cyprian
Craze my heart to leave old love for new,
Sending to assault me
Angry disputes and feuds unending;
But let her judge shrewdly the loves of women
And respect the bed where no war rages.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]

Lady Restraint, befriend me (for it is the gods' greatest gift),
May Aphrodite never drive me to fight with my husband,
Striking my spirit with love of another man,
But do me the honor of making my marriage peaceful,
And decide shrewdly about women's loves.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]

May moderation attend me, fairest gift of the gods! May Aphrodite never cast contentious wrath and insatiate quarreling upon me and madden my heart with love for a stranger's bed. But may she honor marriages that are peaceful and wisely determine whom we are to wed!
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]

I hope that wisdom, the most treasured gift the gods have given us, protects me from that misfortune!
And, Lady Aphrodite, don’t plant into my heart improper love and then send me all the curses that go with it: Hatred, jealousy, endless fights. Instead, dear Lady, protect marriage and grant honour to all the peace-loving couples.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

But I pray that composure be my friend,
the finest gift of the gods.
Dreaded Kypris, never hit me with quarrelsome angers
and insatiable strife,
after stinging my heart for another bed,
but honoring a match free of conflict, wisely discern
women’s love.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]

I pray that moderation,
the gods’ most beautiful gift,
will always guide me.
I pray that Aphrodite
never packs my heart with jealousy
or angry quarreling.
May she never fill me with desire
for sex in other people’s beds.
May she bless peaceful unions,
using her wisdom to select
a woman’s marriage bed.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

May self-control favor me, the gods' fairest gift; may fearful Aphrodite not strike me with angry quarrels and insatiable strife, stunning my heart with lust for someone else's bed; may she respect all peaceful marriage-beds when judging with her sharp mind where women make love.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]

May I find favor with moderation [sōphrosunē], heaven’s fairest gift. And may deina Aphrodite never fasten on me a disputatious temper, or insatiable [without koros] quarrels, smiting my thūmos with a mad desire for unlawful loves. May she reverence peaceful unions, and sagaciously decide the marriages of women.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]

Who fits not his Minde to it, his Estate
If little, pinches him: throws him, if great.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Him whom his Wealth doth not exactly fit,
Whose stores too closely, or too loosely sit,
Like Shoes ill made and faulty, if too great
They overturn, and pinch him if too strait.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Our fortunes and our shoes are near allied;
Pincht in the straight, we stumble in the wide.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Whene'er our wants square ill with our estate,
Be it or very small or very great,
'Tis like an ill-made shoe which gives a fall
If 'tis too large, and pinches if too small.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

When a man’s condition does not suit him, it will be as a shoe at any time; which, if too big for his foot, will throw him down; if too little, will pinch him.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Means should, like shoes, be neither large nor small;
Too wide, they trip us up, too strait, they gall.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Whene'er our mind's at war with our estate,
Like an ill shoe, it trips us, if too great;
Too small, it pinches.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

He who is not satisfied with what he possesses resembles a man wearing a shoe either too large, so that it will throw him down, or too small, that it will inflame his foot.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Suit not one's means one's lot -- 'tis like the shoe:
Be it too large, twill cause the man to fall;
Be it too small, his foot 'twill surely gall.
[tr. A. F. Murison; ed. Kraemer, Jr (1936)]

If what you have
Won't do, well ... it's like the wrong size shoe:
If it's too big for your foot, you trip and fall all over yourself;
If it's too small, it pinches.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

A fortune that doesn't fit its owner resembles shoes;
if too big, it makes him totter; if too small, it chafes.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

A wrong size fortune is like a wrong size shoe:
Too big, it makes you trip; too little, it pinches your foot.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

If what he happens to have
Won't fit a man, it's as it is with a shoe:
Too big, it makes you stumble' too small, it pinches.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

A man’s means, when they don’t fit him, are rather like shoes --
he’s tripped by a size too large, pinched by a size too small.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

When a man’s means don’t suit him it’s often
Like a shoe: too big and he stumbles, too small it chafes.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

He has no enemies, you say.
My friend, your boast is poor.
He who hath mingled in the fray
Of duty that the brave endure
Must have made foes.
If he has none,
Small is the work that he has done.
He has hit no fraud upon the hip;
He has shook no cup from perjured lip;
He has never turned the wrong to right;
He has been a coward in the fight.

Men, generally are odd Creatures: They never keep up to true Nature. The Bounds of Reason are too narrow for them. In every Character they over-act their Parts, and the noblest Designs very often suffer in their Hands, because they will be running things into Extremes, and always carry things too far.
[tr. Clitandre (1672)]

Men, for the most part, are strange creatures, and never keep the right mean; reason's boundaries are too narrow for them; in every character they overact their parts; and they often spoil the noblest designs, because they exaggerate, and carry them too far.
[tr. Van Laun (1876)]

Men are really strange beings; they never keep to simple nature. The bounds of reason seem too narrow for them, and in every character they over-act their parts; they often spoil even the noblest thing by exaggeration.
[tr. Wall (1879)]

Men for the most part are strange creatures; they never see nature in its true light; the bounds of reason are too narrow for them. In every character they over-act their parts, and often spoil the noblest things; because they will run into extremes, and push matters too far.
[tr. Mathew (1890)]

Men, truly, are strange beings! They are never seen in their proper nature; reason's boundaries are too limited from them; in every character they over-act the part; and they often mar that which is most noble by too much exaggeration and by willful extremes.
[tr. Waller (1903)]

Men, for the most part, are strange creatures, truly!
You never find them keep the golden mean;
The limits of good sense, too narrow for them,
Must always be passed by, in each direction;
They often spoil the noblest things, because
They go too far, and push them to extremes.
[tr. Page (1909)]

Really, humanity is most peculiar!
Men won't remain in the mean middle way;
The boundaries of reason are too narrow.
They force their character beyond its limits,
And often spoil even most noble aims
By exaggeration, carrying things too far.
[tr. Bishop (1957)]

Ah, Brother, man's a strangely fashioned creature
Who seldom is content to follow Nature,
But recklessly pursues his inclination
Beyond the narrow bounds of moderation,
And often, by transgressing Reason's laws,
Perverts a lofty aim or noble cause.
[tr. Wilbur (1963), 1.5]

We humans are a curious lot
The fact is, few of us have got
A sense of Nature's golden mean,
We can't keep straight, we have to lean
To one, extreme and dangerous side;
The bounds of reason aren't that wide,
Staying within them is a feat
Beyond our scope -- you seldom meet
A man who'll tread its narrow way
If there's a chance for him to stray.
[tr. Bolt (2002)]

What strange creatures men are! They're always off balance; they think being reasonable is too limiting; they spoil what’s best by pushing things too far.
[tr. Steiner (2008), 1.5]

The majority of men are strangely made!
[tr. Campbell (2013)]

Philosophie contends not against naturall delights, so that due measure be joined therewith; and alloweth the moderation, not the shunning of them.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

Philosophy does not contend against natural Pleasures, provided they be moderate: and only preaches Moderation, not a total Abstinence.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

Philosophy does not contend against natural pleasures, provided they be moderate, and only preaches moderation, not a total abstinence.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

Philosophy does not at all contend against natural pleasures, provided due measure be kept; and it preaches moderation in them, not avoidance.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

Philosophy does not contend against natural pleasures, provided that measure is observed, and it preaches moderation in them, not flight.
[tr. Zeitlin (1934)]

Philosophy does not strive against natural pleasures, provided that measure goes with them; she preaches moderation in them, not flight.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

My selfe, who but grovell on the ground, hate that kinde of inhumane Wisedome, which would make us disdainefull and enemies of the bodies reformation. I deeme it an equall injustice, either to take naturall sensualities against the hart, or to take them too neere the hart.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

But I, who but crawl upon the Earth, hate this inhuman Wisdom, that will have us despise and hate all Culture of Body. I look upon it as an equal injustice to loath natural Pleasures, as to be too much in love with them.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

I, who but crawl upon the earth, hate this inhuman wisdom, that will have us despise and hate all culture of the body; I look upon it as an equal injustice to loath natural pleasures as to be too much in love with them.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

I, who carry myself close to the ground, detest that inhuman wisdom that would make us disdain and be hostile to the care of the body. I deem it equally wrong to accept natural pleasures unwillingly and to accept them too willingly.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

I, who operate only close to the ground, hate that inhuman wisdom that would make us disdainful enemies of the cultivation of the body. I consider it equal injustice to set our heart against natural pleasures and to set our heart too much on them.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

I, who am always down-to-earth in my handling of anything. loathe that inhuman wisdom which seeks to render us disdainful and hostile towards the care of our bodies. I reckon that it is as injudicious to set our minds against natural pleasures as to allow them to dwell on them.
[tr. Screech (1987)]

Not to pry too much neither into good nor evil. A wise man comprehended all his wisedom in this Precept, ne quid nimis, nothing too much. Too strict a justice degenerates into injustice. The Orange that is too much squeezed, yields a bitter juice. Nay in enjoyment, we ought never to go to either of the two extremes. Wit itself is exhausted by too much straining. By endeavouring to draw down too much milk, bloud is often fetched.
[Flesher ed. (1685)]

Drain Nothing to the Dregs, neither Good nor Ill. A sage once reduced all virtue to the golden mean. Push right to the extreme and it becomes wrong: press all the juice from an orange and it becomes bitter. Even in enjoyment never go to extremes. Thought too subtle is dull. If you milk a cow too much you draw blood, not milk.
[tr. Jacobs (1892)]

Drink nothing to the dregs, either of the bad, or of the good, for to moderation in everything has one sage reduced all wisdom. Too great justice become injustice, and the orange, squeezed too hard, turns bitter; even in enjoyment, do not go too far. The spirit itself grows weary if worked too long, and he draws blood instead of milk, who milks too hard.
[tr. Fischer (1937)]

Quid non mortalia pectora cogis,
Auri sacra fames?

Why, thou cursed thirst
Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide
The appetite of mortals?
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Why should'st thou not restrain accursèd thirst
Of gold, the appetite of mortals lost?
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger
Of gold, the appetite of mortal men?
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Why restrainest thou not, O holy hunger of gold, the desire of mortals?
[tr. Butler (1885)]

To what lengths, O thou cursed thirst of gold,
Dost thou not rule the mortal appetite?
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

O cursed hunger of gold, to what dost thou not impel the appetite of mortals?
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Wherefore dost thou not regulate the lust of mortals, O hallowed hunger of gold?
[tr. Okey (1901)]

To what, O cursed hunger for gold, dost thou not drive the appetite of mortals?
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

O hallowed hunger of gold, why dost thou not
The appetite of mortal men control?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

With what constraint constran'st thou not the lust
Of mortals, thou devoted greed of gold!
[tr. Sayers (1955)]

To what do you not drive man's appetite,
O cursèd gold-lust!
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]

Why do you not control the appetite
Of mortals, O you accurst hunger for gold?
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

Why cannot you, o holy hunger
for gold, restrain the appetite of mortals?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]

O sacred hunger for gold, why do you not rule human appetite?
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Why do you, O holy hunger for gold, not
govern the appetite of mortals?
[tr. Durling (2003)]

You, awestruck hungering for gold! Why not
impose a rule on mortal appetite?
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]

To what end, O cursèd hunger for gold,
do you not govern the appetite of mortals?
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

Accursed craving for money, what is there, in
This world, you don't lead human beings to?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

For as every wyne long kept and olde waxith not eagre of his owne propre nature, right so all mankynde is not aygre fell cruell ungracious chargyng nor inportune in olde age of their owne kynde though some men among many be fonde of that condicion. I approve & preyse in olde age the man which hath severitee & stidfast abydyng in hym. Seuerite is contynuance & perseverance of oon maner of lyvyng as wele in the thyngys within as in theym withoute. But I approve nat that in an olde man be egrenesse nor hardnesse & sharpnesse of maners of condicions.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]

For even as every wine being old and standing long is not converted into vineigre, so likewise is not every age sour, eigre, and unpleasant. Severity and sternness in old age I well allow and commend, so that a moderate mean therein (as in all other things) be observed; but bitterness and rigorous dealing I can in no wise brook nor away withal.
[tr. Newton (1569)]

For as all wines do not grow soure and tart in continuance, so not all age. I like severity in an old man, but not bitternesse.
[tr. Austin (1648), ch. 19]

Our nature here, is not unlike our wine,
Some sorts, when old, continue brisk, and fine.
So Age's gravity may seem severe,
But nothing harsh, or bitter ought to appear.
[tr. Denham (1669)]

In short, as it fares with Wines, so it does with Old Men: all are not equally apt to grow sour with Age. A serious and moderately grave Deportment well become us, but nothing of an austere Severity.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]

Thus it is, for as all Wines are not prick'd by Age, so neither is Human Life sower'd by Old Age; a Severity I approve of in Old Men, but with Moderation; Bitterness by no means.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]

Some Wines sour with Age, while others grow better and richer. A Gravity with some Severity is to be allowed; but by no means Ill nature.
[tr. Logan (1744)]

As it is not every kind of wine, so neither is it every sort of temper, that turns sour by age. But I must observe at the same time there is a certain gravity of deportment extremely becoming in advanced years, and which, as in other virtues, when it preserves its proper bounds, and does not degenerate into an acerbity of manners, I very much approve.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]

For, as not every wine, so not every life, grows sour by age. Strictness in old age, I approve; but that, even as other things, in moderate degree: bitterness I nowise approve.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]

Neither every wine nor every life turns to vinegar with age.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]

For as it is not every wine, so it is not every man's life, that grows sour from old age. I approve of gravity in old age, but this in a moderate degree, like everything else; harshness by no means.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]

For as it is not wine of every vintage, so it is not every temper that grows sour with age. I approve of gravity in old age, so it be not excessive; for moderation in all things is becoming: but for bitterness I have no tolerance.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]

The fact is that, just as it is not every wine, so it is not every life, that turns sour from keeping. Serious gravity I approve of in old age, but, as in other things, it must be within due limits: bitterness I can in no case approve.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]

Not every wine grows sour by growing old.
Severity in age is well enough:
But not too much, and naught of bitterness.
[tr. Allison (1916)]

As it is not every wine, so it is not every disposition, that grows sour with age. I approve of some austerity in the old, but I want it, as I do everything else, in moderation. Sourness of temper I like not at all.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]

Human nature is like wine: it does not invariably sour just because it is old. Some old men seem very stern, and rightly so -- although there must be, as I always say, moderation in all things. There is never any reason for ill temper.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]

Certainly neither all wines go sour
Nor do all men because of agedness.
I approve of old men’s calm severity,
But I don’t put up with those who are dour.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]

The truth is that a person's character, like wine, does not necessarily grow sour with age. Austerity in old age is proper enough, but like everything else it should be in moderation. Sourness of disposition is never a virtue.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]

Therfor thene ye may aske and demaunde why I haue said so many thynges of flesshely delyte and of lecherye, wherfor I answere you that the blame and the shame is not onely ynoughe. But namely it is the grete lawde and praysyng of olde age that it desyreth but lytle flesshely delectacyons. Olde age chargith nevir of dyetes nor of dyvers deynty metys nor of tables richely and dyversly arrayde nor of many dyners drynkys. Olde age wille not be fulle of wyn often for doubte of sekenes. Olde age wille not suffre the akyng of the bely as is the colyk or of the stone or costyfnes whiche comyth of takyng so muche mete and so often that it abideth rawe within the stomake. Olde age desyrith not wakyng in the tyme that nature hath ordeyned to slepe. Albeit an aged man is gretly disposed to wake ayenst his will forsoth the philosopher Platon whiche spake dyversly in a mater that delectacyon at∣tempted by euill disposed men that leyen the baite & the snare to delite aged men in repleccion of lustis & metys not helefull to them & bycause that men be taken & decevued by the baite sett in the hoke or angle as the bird is taken in the snare how be it that olde age wolde have no metys ne his etyngys excessiuely. Algatys they may delite in deynte metys and in smale feedyngys and temperate dyete.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]

But to what purpose do we speak so much of pleasure? Verily, to the intent that hereby it may be seen and proved, how that it cannot only not be objected to old age for any vituperation and dispraise, but rather for a singular praise and commendation; because old-age doth not esteem nor care for these pleasures. But some other will say: It lacketh sumptuous fare, costly dishes, delicate viands, and drinks of all sorts. Hereto I answer tihat, therefore, it lacketh also drunkenness, crudity, or indigestion, fantastical dreams, and ridiculous apparitions. But if we must any whit yield to to pleasure because we cannot easily resist the blandishments and allurements thereof (for the divine philosopher Plato calleth pleasure the bait of all mischief, because men therewith are caught and snared even as fishes are with the hook), I say, that although old age be not endangered nor given to superfluous and immoderate banqueting, and at unseasonable hours, yet in temperate and moderate feasting it may be solaced and comfortably recreated.
[tr. Newton (1569)]

But to what end speak we so much of pleasure? because that you may see that no blame, but much praise is to be given to age, because it doth not lust after pleasure, which is so dangerous a thing. Age wanteth banquetting, gluttony, and quaffing; it is also without surfeting, drunkennesse, or dreaming; but yet if we may any wayes take some pleasure, because we do not easily resist her flatteries (for divine Plato calleth pleasure the bait of evils, because men are caught ther∣with as fishes with a hook) tho age despiseth immoderate banquets, yet may it be delighted with moderate meetings.
[tr. Austin (1648), ch. 12-13]

Then to our age (when not to pleasures bent)
This seems an honour, not disparagement.
We, not all pleasures like the Stoicks hate;
But love and seek those which are moderate.
(Though Divine Plato thus of pleasures thought,
They us, with hooks and baits, like fishes caught.)
[tr. Denham (1669)]

I have dwelt the longer on this Topick of bodily Pleasures, to shew, it is so far from being a Disparagement to our Age, to be deprived of these Enjoyments, that it is its greatest Praise and Commendation, that it even takes off our Inclinations from the violent Pursuit of them. Though we may not indulge our selves so freely in our Cups, though we do not relish the Pleasures of the most luxurious Provisions, will not our being freed from the fatal Consequences of Indigestion, and a disordered Imagination, make us ample amends? But if we must make some Allowances for Pleasure, and submit to its Blandishments (which Plato calls the Bait of humane Miseries, with which like Fishes we are tempted to the Hook). Though we are deprived of the Pleasure of immoderate Feasting, yet can we still relish the Charms of an agreeable and chearful Entertainment; which arises not from the Delicacy or Variety of Courses, but from the Conversation of the Company.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]

And why all this of Pleasure? Because not only to over-rule the Objection, but to shew that it is the greatest Encomium on Old Age, that he never ardently desires what we call Pleasure. Doth Age want Banquets, great Tables, and frequent Use of Wine? Confequently it is free from Drunkenness, Surfeits, and watchful Nights. But if we are any ways to give ourselves up to Pleasure, because we cannot altogether attend her Invitations, as Plato says, who calls it "a Bait for Evil, and that Men are taken with it as Fishes with a Hook," yet Old Age will abstain from Revelling, and take Delight only in moderate Entertainments.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]

Thus I judged it necessary to be the more full on this Head of Pleasure, and shew the Dangers of it, to the end you might clearly see, it is so far from being a Disadvantage to Old-Age, its Palling our Inclinations to Pleasure, that on the contrary it is rather a great and valuable Blessing. For if it is in a good Measure dead to the Enjoyments others find in Banqueting, sumptuous Feasts and Carousings, it is freed at the same time from all the troublesome Effects of these; as Fumes, Crudities, uneasy Sleep, or the want of it; with divers other such like Disorders. Yet as Nature has so ordered it, that Pleasure should have a very strong Hold of us, and the Inclination to it appears deeply founded in our very Composition, (and 'tis with too much Justice that the divine Plato calls it the Bait of Evil, by which Men are caught as Fish with a Hook) therefore, though Age is not taken, nor can well bear, with those splendid sumptuous Feastings and Revels, yet we are not so insensible to the Pleasures of Life, but that we can indulge ourselves, and take a real Delight in sober and temperate Entertainments with our Friends.
[tr. Logan (1744)]

I have dwelt the longer upon this article, in order to convince you, that the little relish which old age leaves us for enjoyments of the sensual kind, is so far from being a just imputation on this period of life, that on the contrary it very considerably raises its value. If age render us incapable of taking an equal share in the flowing cups, and luxuriant dishes of splendid tables, it secures us too from their unhappy consequences -- from painful indigestions, restless nights, and disordered reason. Accordingly, the divine Plato justly represents pleasure as the bait by which vice ensnares and captivates her deluded votaries. But if this enticement cannot always be resisted, if the palate must sometimes be indulged, I do not scruple to say that an old man, although his years will guard him from excess, is by no means excluded from enjoying, in a moderate degree, the convivial gratifications.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]

With what view then do I say so much about pleasure? Because not only is it no ground of censure, but even the highest praise of old age, that it desires no pleasures very much. But is old age without feasts, and loaded tables, and frequent cups? Therefore it is without drunkenness, and indigestion and troubled sleep. But if something must be given to pleasure, since we do not easily withstand its blandishments, (for divinely Plato calls pleasure the bait of evils, because evidently men are taken by it as fishes by a hook,) though old age is debarred immoderate feasts, yet, it may be gratified with temperate socialities.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]

To what end then have I said so many things about pleasure? Because it is so far from being any disparagement, that it is even the highest praise to old age, that it has no great desire for any pleasures. It lacks banquets, and piled up boards, and fast-coming goblets; it is therefore also free from drunkenness and indigestion and sleeplessness. But if something must be conceded to pleasure (since we do not easily withstand its allurements, for Plato beautifully calls pleasure the bait of evils, inasmuch as, by it, in fact, men are caught as fishes with a hook), although old age has nothing to do with extravagant banquets, yet in reasonable entertainments it can experience pleasure.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]

But to what purpose am I saying so much about pleasure? Because it is not only no reproach to old age, but even its highest merit, that it does not severely feel the loss of bodily pleasures. But, you may say, it must dispense with sumptuous feasts, and loaded tables, and oft-drained cups. True, but it equally dispenses with sottishness, and indigestion, and troubled dreams. But if any license is to be given to pleasure, seeing that we do not easily resist its allurements, -- insomuch that Plato calls pleasure the bait of evil, because, forsooth, men are caught by it as fishes by the hook, -- old age, while it dispenses with excessive feasting, yet can find delight in moderate conviviality.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]

But why so much of pleasure? Why, you see,
Not only is it no disgrace to age,
But ev'n its greatest merit that it longs
No more for pleasure, cares no more for feasts
With loaded tables and o'er-flowing wine.
It misses too the headache, and the night
Of sickness and of sleeplessness that comes.
If something we must grant to pleasure's claim:
(It is not easy to resist its charm:
The godlike Plato thinks it is a bait
To catch the foolish, just as fish are caught:)
Though we cannot indulge in gorgeous feasts,
A modest dinner we can still enjoy.
[tr. Allison (1916)]

Why then, do I dwell at such length on pleasure? Because the fact that old age feels little longing for sensual pleasures not only is no cause for reproach, but rather is ground for the highest praise. Old age lacks the heavy banquet, the loaded table, and the oft-filled cup; therefore it also lacks drunkenness, indigestion, and loss of sleep. But if some concession must be made to pleasure, since her allurements are difficult to resist, and she is, as Plato happily says, “the bait of sin,” -- evidently because men are caught therewith like fish -- then I admit that old age, though it lacks immoderate banquets, may find delight in temperate repasts.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]

Why then do I have so much to say about pleasures of this kind? Because the weakening of temptation to indulge in them, far from supplying a pretext to reproach old age, is a reason for offering it the most cordial complements. Age has no banquets, no tables piled high, no cups filled again and again. So it avoids drunkenness, and indigestion, and sleepless nights! However, the allurements of pleasure are admittedly hard to resist; they are "the bait of sin," as Plato brilliantly calls them, which catch men like fish. If, then, we have to make them some concession, there is no reason why old age, though spared extravagant feasting, should not gratify itself with entertainments of a more modest nature.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]

Why am I dwelling at such length on pleasure? Because it is not only no condemnation of old age, but rather its highest recommendation, that it feels no overwhelming desire for pleasure. The old do not share in banquets, in tables piled high with food, and in endless toasts; as a consequence, they do not share in drunkenness, in indigestion, and in sleeplessness. But if we must make some concession to pleasure, since we do not easily resist its blandishments (in a moment of inspiration Plato called pleasure “the bait of evil” -- obviously because men are caught by it like fish) -- even though the old do not share in unrestrained high life, still they can derive pleasure from moderate conviviality.
[tr. Copley (1967)]

Why do I go on so much about pleasure? As old men, we should not so much resent our age as praise it in the most glowing terms, because now we cannot feel any more interest in sensual temptations. As old men, we no longer attend formal banquets at tables loaded down with delicious food and wine; but on the other hand we no longer suffer from hangovers and indigestion and insomnia. But even so it may be hard to resist temptation completely. Plato cleverly referred to pleasure as “sin-bait,” because men are caught by it like fishes. There is, then, in our old age, nothing wrong with spending a convivial evening with friends, although we will not indulge ourselves to excess.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]

So why am I going on and on about pleasure? Because I want to impress upon you how the fact that old age is less subject to the passions for pleasure is not an indictment of this stage of life, but actually one of its greatest advantages. If it lacks allnight parties, or tables heaped hy with rich food and powerful dirnk, it also lacks drunkenness, indigestion, insomnia, and "the morning after." It is not that old age lacks pleasures, it is that they change. And they are healthier. Gone are the overindulgent feasts and in their place we take pleasure in delightful dinner parties.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]

So why do I tarry on pleasure’s enticement?
The fact that old age has no longing for it
Not only can’t be taken as a demerit,
But on the contrary is the best of credits.
Freedom from decked tables, from banquets
And also from frequent potations
Means freedom from drunkenness,
From insomnia and indigestions.
But we’re bound to make some concessions
To better resist pleasure’s alluring snares
Which Plato calls the bait of transgressions,
By which like fish men are caught unawares.
Although old age sumptuous banquets must shun
In light repasts it finds indeed some fun.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]

Let my wealthy man take with him fears, sorrows, covetousness, suspicion, disquiet, contentions, making immense additions to his estate only by adding to his heap of most bitter cares; and let my poor man take with him sufficiency with little, love of kindred, neighbours, friends, joyous peace, peaceful religion, soundness of body, sincereness of heart, abstinence of diet, chastity of carriage, and security of conscience. Where should a man find any one so sottish as would make a doubt which of these to prefer in his choice?
[tr. Healey (1610)]

But the rich man is anxious with fears, pining with discontent, burning with covetousness, never secure, always uneasy, panting from the perpetual strife of his enemies, adding to his patrimony indeed by these miseries to an immense degree, and by these additions also heaping up most bitter cares. But that other man of moderate wealth is contented with a small and compact estate, most dear to his own family, enjoying the sweetest peace with his kindred neighbors and friends, in piety religious, benignant in mind, healthy in body, in life frugal, in manners chaste, in conscience secure. I know not whether any one can be such a fool, that he dare hesitate which to prefer.
[ed. Dods (1871)]

But, our wealthy man is haunted by fear, heavy with cares, feverish with greed, never secure, always restless, breathless from endless quarrels with his enemies. By these miseries, he adds to his possessions beyond measure, but he also piles up for himself a mountain of distressing worries. The man of modest means is content with a small and compact patrimony. He is loved by his own, enjoys the sweetness of peace, in his relations with kindred, neighbors, and friends, is religious and pious, of kindly disposition, healthy in body, self-restrained, chaste in morals, and at peace with his conscience. I wonder if there is anyone so senseless as to hesitate over which of the two to prefer.
[tr. Zema/Walsh (1950)]

Let us suppose that the rich man is troubled by fears, pining with grief, burning with desire, never secure, always restless, panting in ceaseless struggles with his foes, though he does, to be sure, by dint of such suffering accumulate great additions to his estate even beyond measure, these additions adding also their quota of corrosive anxieties. Let the man of modest means, on the other hand, be self-sufficient on his trim and tiny property, beloved by his family, enjoying the most agreeable relations with his kindred, neighbours and friends, devoutly religious, kindly disposed, in good physical condition, leading a simple life, free from vice and untroubled in conscience. I don’t suppose that there is anyone so foolish as to think of doubting which one he would prefer.
[tr. Green (Loeb) (1963)]

But the rich man is tortured by fears, worn out with sadness, burnt up with ambition, never knowing serenity of repose, always panting and sweating in his struggles with opponents. It may be true that he enormously swells his patrimony, but at the cost of those discontents, while by this increase he heaps up a load of further anxiety and bitterness. The other man, the ordinary citizen, is content with his strictly limited resources. He is loved by family and friends; he enjoys the blessing of peace with his relations, neighbours, and friends; he is loyal, compassionate, and kind, healthy in body, temperate in habits, of unblemished character, and enjoys the serenity of a good conscience. I do not think anyone would be fool enough to hesitate about which he would prefer.
[tr. Bettenson (1972)]

The wealthy man, however, is troubled by fears; he pines with grief; he burns with greed. He is never secure; he is always unquiet and panting from endless confrontations with his enemies. To be sure, he adds to his patrimony in immense measure by these miseries; but alongside these additions he also heaps up the most bitter cares. By contrast, the man of moderate means is self-sufficient on his small and circumscribed estate. He is of his own family, and rejoices in the most sweet peace with kindred, neighbours and friends. He is devoutly religious, well disposed in mind, healthy in body, frugal in life, chaste in morals, untroubled in conscience. I do not know if anyone could be such a fool as to dare to doubt which to prefer.
[tr. Dyson (1998)]

For it behoves the wise
To curb the sallies of outrageous ire.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

For it is the part of a wise man to practice restrained good temper.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

’Tis easy to a wise man To practise self-command.
[tr. Milman (1865)]

For a wise man ever knoweth how to keep his passion down.
[tr. Rogers (1872)]

For ’tis a wise man’s way to school his temper into due control.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

For it is the wise man's part to rein his wrath in soberness.
[tr. Way (1898)]

For still are the ways of Wisdom, and her temper trembleth not!
[tr. Murray (1902)]

Wise men know constraint: our passions are controlled.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]

For it is the quality of a wise man to exercise restrained good temper.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]

The secret of life is
Balance, tolerance.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]

A wise man should practice pure thought and good temper.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]

A wise man knows restraint. His strength is his detachment.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]

For the wise know gentleness is wisdom.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]

For it is the part of a wise man to employ a controlled and gentle temper.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]

A wise man trains his temper to be good and calm.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]

Because a man
Who is wise has self-control and gentleness of temper.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]

It is a wise man's part to practice gentleness and self-control.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]

He who would be wise will keep his self-control.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]

That is how wise people work, calmly.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]

A wise man is able to hold his good-nature well tempered.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]

After all, a wise man ought to keep his temper.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

He should learn from me the ways of self-control.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]

Keep calm and carry on, as the wisest say.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]

The wise man has a reasonable temper.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]

A sophos man must practice good temper that is moderate [sōphrōn].
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]

For it is not so hard to keep always silence, as it is not to exceed in words when we speak much.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]

For it is not so hard always to keep silence as it is not to exceed in words when we speak much.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]

It is easier not to speak a word at all, then not to speake more words then we should.
[tr. Page (1639), 1.20.6]

'Tis certainly much easier for a Man to restrain himself from Talking at all, than to enter into Discourse, and not say more than becomes him.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.)]

For it is much easier to be wholly silent, than not to exceed in word.
[tr. Payne (1803), 1.20.3]

It is much easier to be wholly silent, than not to exceed in talk.
[tr. Dibdin (1851)]

It is easier to be altogether silent, than not to go to excess in speaking.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]

For it is easier to be altogether silent than it is not to exceed in word.
[tr. Benham (1874)]

It is easier not to speak at all, than not to exceed in speech.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]

It is easier to be silent altogether than not to speak too much.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]

It is easier to be quite silent than not to say a word too much.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]

It is easier to keep silence altogether than not to talk more than we should.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]

Easier to keep your mouth shut than to talk without saying too much.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]

It is easier to keep quiet altogether than not to say a word too much.
[tr. Knott (1962)]

To remain entirely silent is easier than not to talk too much.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]

It is easier to be completely silent than not to be long-winded.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]

Now, philanthropists may easily imagine there is a skilful method of disarming and overcoming an enemy without causing great bloodshed, and that this is the proper tendency of the art of War. However plausible this may appear, still it is an error which must be extirpated; for in such dangerous things as war, the errors which proceed from a spirit of benevolence are just the worst.
[tr. Graham (1873)]

Now philanthropic souls might easily imagine that there was an artistic way of disarming or overthrowing our adversary without too much bloodshed and that this was what the art of war should seek to achieve. However agreeable this may sound, it is a false idea which must be demolished. In affairs so dangerous as war, false ideas proceeding from kindness of heart are precisely the worst.
[tr. Jolles (1943)]

Nor again [does this please me], that we ought to carry nothing to excess; since 'tis our duty to hate the wicked at least to the very extreme.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

No do I like the saying, Do nothing excessively. Bad men should be hated excessively.
[tr. Jebb (1873)]

Nor do I approve of the saying "nothing in excess": we are bound to hate bad men excessively.
[tr. Rhys Roberts (1924)]

Nor do I approve the maxim "Nothing in excess," for one cannot hate the wicked too much."
[tr. Freese (1926)]

Neither is "nothing in excess" [satisfying to me]. For one must tate to excess at least those who are evil.
[tr. Bartlett (2019)]

[I do not] commend the saying “nothing in excess” because one must hate evil men to the extreme.
[tr. @sentantiq (2019)]

• "Immoderate desire is the mark of a child, not a man." [tr. Freeman (1948)]
• "It is a characteristic of a child, not a man, to desire without measure." [tr. Chitwood (2004)]

• "The good things of youth are strength and beauty; moderation is the flower of age." [Source]
• "Strength and beauty are the blessings of youth; temperance, however, is the flower of old age."

• "I'd love to have a martini, / Two at the very most. / With three I'm under the table, / With four I'm under my host."
• "I like to have a Martini / But only two at the most, / After three I'm under the table, / After four I'm under my host."

The safest way of life, is neither
To tempt the Deeps, nor whilst foul weather
You fearfully avoid, too near
The shore to steer.
He that affects the Golden Mean,
Will neither want a house that's clean,
Nor swell unto the place of showres
His envy'd Towres.
[tr. Fanshaw; ed. Brome (1666)]

Wise they, that with a cautious fear
Not always thro the Ocean Steer,
Nor, whilst they think the Winds will roar,
Do thrust too near the rocky Shore:
To those that choose the golden Mean:
The Waves are smooth, the Skies serene;
They want the baseness of the Poors retreat,
And envy'd Houses of the Great.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach,
So shalt thou live beyond the reach
Of adverse fortunes pow'r;
Not always tempt the distant deep,
Nor always timorously creep
Along the treach'rous shore.
He that holds fast the golden mean,
And lives contentedly between
The little and the great,
Feels not the wants that pinch the poor,
Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door,
Imbitt'ring all his state.
[tr. Cowper (1782?)]

O Licinius, you will lead a more correct course of life, by neither always pursuing the main ocean, nor, while you cautiously are in dread of storms, by pressing too much upon the hazardous shore. Whosoever loves the golden mean, is secure from the sordidness of an antiquated cell, and is too prudent to have a palace that might expose him to envy.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

If thou wouldst live secure and free,
Thou wilt not keep far out at sea,
Licinius, evermore;
Nor, fearful of the gales that sweep
The ocean wide, too closely creep
Along the treacherous shore.
The man, who with a soul serene
Doth cultivate the golden mean,
Escapes alike from all
The squalor of a sordid cot,
And from the jealousies begot
By wealth in lordly hall.
[tr. Martin (1864)]

Licinius, wouldst thou steer life's wiser voyage,
Neither launch always into deep mid-waters,
Nor hug the shores, and, shrinking from the tempest,
Hazard the quicksand.
He who elects the golden mean of fortune,
Nor where dull squalor rots the time-worn hovel,
Nor where fierce envy storms the new-built palace,
Makes his safe dwelling.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

Neither always tempt the deep,
Nor, Licinius, always keep,
Fearing storms, the slippery beach:
Such the rule of life I teach.
Golden is the middle state;
Love the middle gifts of fate,
Not the sloven squalid cot,
Proud and envied palace not.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]

Better, Licinius, wilt thou live, by neither
Tempting the deep for ever, nor, while tempests
Cautiously shunning, by too closely hugging
Shores that are treach'rous.
He who the golden mean adopts, is ever
Free from the sorrows of a squalid dwelling; --
Free from the cares attending on the envied
Halls of the wealthy.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

Licinius, better wilt thou live by neither urging
Alway out to sea, nor, while on guard 'gainst storms
Thou shudderest, by pressing an evil shore
Too close.
Whoever courts a golden mean is safe
To escape the squalor of a mouldered roof.
And shrewd to escape a paJace that may
Be grudged to him.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

Safer thou'lt sail life's voyage, if them steer
Neither right out to sea, nor yet, when rise
The threat'ning tempests, hug the shore too near,
Unwisely wise.
What man soe'er the golden mean doth choose,
Prudent will shun the hovel's foul decay;
But with like sense, a palace will refuse
And vain display.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Better wilt thou live, Licinius, by neither always pressing out to sea nor too closely hugging the dangerous shore in cautious fear of storms. Whoso cherishes the golden mean, safely avoids the foulness of an ill-kept house and discreetly, too, avoids a hall exciting envy.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

Licinius, would you live aright,
Tempt not the high seas evermore,
Nor, fearing tempests, in your fright
Too closely hug the dangerous shore.
Who loves the golden mean is free
And safe from grime -- the grime a house
Harbours in eld; his modesty
Earns not the envy mansions rouse.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Sail not too far to be safe, O Licinius!
Neither too close to the shore should you steer.
Rashness is foolish, and how ignominious
Cowardly fear!
He who possesses neither palace nor hovel
(My little flat would be half way between)
Hasn't a house at which paupers must grovel
Yet it is clean.
[tr. Adams (1928)]

Licinius, to live wisely shun
The deep sea; on the other hand,
Straining to dodge the storm don't run
Too close in to the jagged land.
All who love safety make their prize
The golden mean and hate extremes:
Mansions are envied for their size,
Slums pitied for their rotting beams.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Licinius, life makes better sense
Lived neither pushing farther and farther
To sea, nor always hugging the dangerous
Shore, shaking at the thought of storms.
Cherish a golden mean and stay
Exempt from a filthy hovel
And exempt from the envy
A mansion excites.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

You'll do better, Licinius, not to spend your life
Venturing too far out on the dangerous waters,
Or else, for fear of storms, staying too close in
To the dangerous rocky shoreline, That man does best
Who chooses the middle way, so he doesn't end up
Living under a roof that's going to ruin
Or in some gorgeous mansion everyone envies.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]

Better will you live, O Licinius, not always urging yourself out upon the high seas, nor ever hugging the insidious shore in fear of storms. He who esteems the golden mean safely avoids the squalor of a wretched house and in sobriety, equally shuns the enviable palace.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

You’ll live more virtuously, my Murena,
by not setting out to sea, while you’re in dread
of the storm, or hugging fatal shores
too closely, either.
Whoever takes delight in the golden mean,
safely avoids the squalor of a shabby house,
and, soberly, avoids the regal palace
that incites envy.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Only deeds give strength to life, and only measure gives it charm.
[Source (1858)]

Only deeds give strength to life, only moderation gives it charm.
[Source (1896)]

Just so to be angry, to give money, and be expensive, is what any man can do, and easy: but to do these to the right person, in due proportion, at the right time, with a right object, and in the right manner, this is not as before what any man can do, nor is it easy; and for this cause goodness is rare, and praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Chase (1847)]

And so, too, to get angry is an easy matter, and in any man's power; or to give away money or to spend it: but to decide to whom to give it, and how large a sum, and when, and for what purpose, and how, is neither in every many's power, nor an easy matter. And hence it is that excellence herein is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Williams (1869), sec. 37]

So too anybody can get angry -- that is an easy matter -- and anybody can give or spend money, but to give it to the right persons, to give the right amount of it and to give it at the right time and for the right cause and in the right way, this is not what anybody can do, nor is it easy. That is the reason why it is rare and laudable and noble to do well.
[tr. Welldon (1892)]

Thus anyone can be angry -- that is quite easy; anyone can give money away or spend it: but to do these things to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right object, and in the right manner, is not what everybody can do, and is by no means easy; and that is the reason why right doing is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Peters (1893)]

So, too, anyone can get angry -- that is easy -- or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
[tr. Ross (1908)]

In the same way, getting angry is also something everyone can do and something easy, as is giving or spending money. Determining whom to give it to, though, and how much, when, for the sake of what, and in what way -- that is no longer something everyone can do or something easy. That is why doing it well is a rare thing and a praiseworthy and noble one.
[tr. Reeve (1948)]

So, too, anyone can get angry or give money or spend it, and it is easy. But to give to the right person, the right amount, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right manner, this is not something anyone can do nor is it easy to do; and it is in view of this that excellence is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Apostle (1975)]

So too it is easy to get angry -- anyone can do that -- or to give and spend money; but to feel or act towards the right person to the right extent at the right time for the right reason in the right way -- that is not easy, and it is not everyone that can do it. Hence to do these things well is a rare, laudable, and fine achievement.
[tr. Thomson/Tredennick (1976)]

So too anyone can get angry, or give and spend money -- these are easy, but doing them in relation to the right person, in the right amount, at the right time, with the right aim in view, and in the right way -- that is not something anyone can do, nor is it easy. This is why excellence in these things is rare, praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Crisp (2000)]

And so too, to become angry belongs to everyone and is an easy thing, as is also giving and spending money; but to whom [one ought to do so], how much, when for the sake fo what, and how -- these no longer belong to everyone nor are easy. Thus in fact acting well is rare, praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Bartlett/Collins (2011)]

Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.

He who teaches that to be the chief good which hath no connection with virtue, which is measured by personal advantage, and not by honor; if he be consistent with himself, and not sometimes overcome by the benignity of nature, can neither cultivate friendship nor practice justice nor liberality. That man cannot be brave who believes pain the greatest evil; nor temperate, who believes pleasure the supreme good.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

For if a man should lay down as the chief good, that which has no connexion with virtue, and measure it by his own interests, and not according to its moral merit; if such a man shall act consistently with his own principles, and is not sometimes influenced by the good ness of his heart, he can cultivate neither friendship, justice, nor generosity. In truth, it is impossible for the man to be brave who shall pronounce pain to be the greatest evil, or temperate who shall propose pleasure as the highest good.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

For he who so interprets the supreme good as to disjoin it from virtue, and measures it by his own convenience, and not by the standard of right, -- he, I say, if he be consistent with himself, and be not sometimes overcome by natural goodness, can cultivate neither friendship, nor justice, nor generosity; nor can he possibly be brave while he esteems pain as the greatest of evils, or temperate while he regards pleasure as the supreme good.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

He who severs the highest good from virtue and measures it by interest and not by honour, if he were true to his principles and did not at times yield to his better nature, could not cultivate friendship, justice or liberality; and no one can be brave who declares pain the greatest evil, or temperate who maintains pleasure to be the highest good.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

For he who posits the supreme good as having no connection with virtue and measures it not by a moral standard but by his own interests -- if he should be consistent and not rather at times over-ruled by his better nature, he could value neither friendship nor justice nor generosity; and brave he surely cannot possibly be that counts pain the supreme evil, nor temperate he that holds pleasure to be the supreme good.
[tr. Miller (1913)]

Take, for example, the man who has established the kind of highest good that has nothing to do with virtue, that is, measured by the individual's convenience, not by his morality. If that man is consistent and is not in the meantime overcome by natural goodness, he cannot cultivate friendship, or justice, or openness of character. In fact, a man of courage who considers pain the greatest evil, or a temperate man who declares indulgence to be the greatest good, is surely an impossible contradiction.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

No man can be brave who thinks pain the greatest evil; nor temperate, who considers pleasure the highest good.
[Source]

Many indeed with more ease practice abstinence, so as not to use, than practice temperance, so as to use well.
[tr. Cornish (<1885)]

Many indeed find it easier to abstain from making use of them than to control their use and use them properly.
[tr. Kearney (1999)]

Complete abstinence is easier than perfect moderation.
[E.g.]