My friends,
I am resolv'd, as soon as I have slain
My Children, from these regions to depart.
Nor thro' inglorious sloth will I abandon
My Sons to perish by detested hands;
They certainly must die: since then they must,
I bore and I will slay them. O my heart!
Be arm'd with tenfold firmness. What avails it
To loiter, when inevitable ills
Remain to be accomplish'd? take the sword.
And, O my band, on to the goal that ends
Their life, nor let one intervening thought
Of pity or maternal tenderness
Suspend thy purpose: for this one short day
Forget how fondly thou didst love thy Sons,
How bring them forth, and after that lament
Their cruel fate: altho' thou art resolv'd
To slay, yet hast thou ever held them dear.
But I am of all women the most wretched.
Exit Medea
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]

This deed, my friends, is fix'd, to slay my sons
With quickest speed, then hasten from this land;
Nor fondly lingering leave them to be slain
By some more hostile hand: since they must die,
(For die they must) by me, who gave them life,
Death shall be given: and thou, my heart, be arm'd:
Yield not to weak reluctance, nor delay
A dreadful, but necessary deed.
Come, my unhappy hand, seize thou the sword,
Seize it, and wind thy progress to the goal
Of miserable life: faint not, nor thing
Of thy poor children, O how dear to me!
For this short day remember not thy sons,
Hereafter mourn at leisure: though I kill them,
Yet they were dear, and I -- a very wretch.
[tr. Potter (1814)]

My friends, this purpose stand approved to me,
Slaying my boys to hurry from this realm;
Not, making weak delays, to give my sons
By other and more cruel hands to die.
Nay, steel thyself my heart. Why linger we
As not to do that horror which yet must be?
Come, oh my woeful hand, take take the sword:
On to my new life's mournful starting point,
And be no coward, nor think on thy boys,
How dear, how thou didst give them birth. Nay rather
For this short day forget they are thy sons:
Then weep them afterwards. For though thou slay'st them
Oh but they're dear, and I a desolate woman.
[tr. Webster (1868)]

My friends, I am resolved upon the deed; at once will I slay my children and then leave this land, without delaying long enough to hand them over to some more savage hand to butcher. Needs must they die in any case; and since they must, I will slay them — I, the mother that bare them. O heart of mine, steel thyself! Why do I hesitate to do the awful deed that must be done? Come, take the sword, thou wretched hand of mine! Take it, and advance to the post whence starts thy life of sorrow! Away with cowardice! Give not one thought to thy babes, how dear they are or how thou art their mother. This one brief day forget thy children dear, and after that lament; for though thou wilt slay them yet they were thy darlings still, and I am a lady of sorrows.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

The deed is determined on by me, my friends, to slay my children as soon as possible, and to hasten from this land; and not by delaying to give my sons for another hand more hostile to murder. But come, be armed, my heart; why do we delay to do dreadful but necessary deeds? Come, O wretched hand of mine, grasp the sword, grasp it, advance to the bitter goal of life, and be not cowardly, nor remember thy children how dear they are, how thou broughtest them into the world; but for this short day at least forget thy children; hereafter lament. For although thou slayest them, nevertheless they at least were dear, but I a wretched woman.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

Friends, my resolve is taken, with all speed
To slay my children, and to flee this land,
And not to linger and to yield my sons
To death by other hands more merciless.
They needs must die: and, since it needs must be,
Even I will give them death, who gave them life.
Up, gird thee for the fray, mine heart! Why loiter
To do the dread ill deeds that must be done?
Come, wretched hand of mine, grasp thou the sword;
Grasp it; — move toward life's bitter starting-post,
And turn not craven: think not on thy babes,
How dear they are, how thou didst bear them: nay,
For this short day do thou forget thy sons,
Thereafter mourn them. For, although thou slay,
Yet dear they are, and I a wretched woman.
[Exit Medea.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

Women, my mind is clear. I go to slay
My children with all speed, and then, away
From hence; not wait yet longer till they stand
Beneath another and an angrier hand
To die. Yea, howsoe'er I shield them, die
They must. And, seeing that they must, 'tis I
Shall slay them, I their mother, touched of none
Beside. Oh, up and get thine armour on,
My heart! Why longer tarry we to win
Our crown of dire inevitable sin?
Take up thy sword, O poor right hand of mine,
Thy sword: then onward to the thin-drawn line
Where life turns agony. Let there be naught
Of softness now: and keep thee from that thought,
'Born of thy flesh,' 'thine own belovèd.' Now,
For one brief day, forget thy children: thou
Shalt weep hereafter. Though thou slay them, yet
Sweet were they. . . . I am sore unfortunate.
[She goes into the house.
[tr. Murray (1906)]

My friends, the deed’s resolved — that with all haste
I will kill my children and set forth from Corinth,
Not, hesitating here, yield up my sons
For other and less loving hands to murder.
Die they must, either way; and since they must,
Then I will slay them that did bring them forth.
Come steel thyself, my heart. What help to linger
Shrinking to do that dreadful thing thou must?
The sword, O miserable hand, the sword —
Take it and onward to that bitter race
Thy feet must run! No weakening now, no thought
Of thy sons, how dear they are, how thou didst once
Give life to them. For this one little day
Forget thy babes, and, after, weep for them.
For though thou slay them, yet dear-loved were they,
Thine own, — and I a miserable woman.
[tr. Lucas, ed. Higham (1938)]

Friends, now my course is clear: as quickly as possible
To kill the children and then to fly from Corinth; not
Delay and so consign them to another hand
To murder with a better will. For they must die,
In any case; and since they must, then I who gave
Them birth will kill them. Arm yourself, my heart: the thing
That you must do is fearful, yet inevitable.
Why wait, then? My accursed hand, come, take the sword;
Take it, and forward to your frontier of despair.
No cowardice, no tender memories; forget
That once you loved them, that of your body they were born.
For one short day forget your children; afterwards
Weep: though you kill them, they were your beloved sons.
Life has been cruel to me.
Medea goes into the house.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]

My friends, I have decided to kill the children
Without delay and quickly depart from this country;
I shall not, by delaying, give my children over
To another, more unfriendly, hand to murder.
In any case, their death is inevitable, and since
It is, I who gave them birth shall kill them.
Up then! Arm yourself, my heart! Why wait
To do the dreadful evil that must be done?
Come, my wretched hand, take up the sword,
Take it and go to life’s goal of grief,
Do not be cowardly, do not remember the children,
How dear they are, how you bore them; for this short day
At least forget all about your children,
Then grieve. For even if you kill them, still,
You bore them, you loved them. I am an unlucky woman.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]

My friends, my resolve is fixed on the deed, to kill my children with all speed and to flee from this land: I must not, by lingering, deliver my children for murder to a less kindly hand. They must die at all events, and since they must, I who gave them birth shall kill them. Come, put on your armor, my heart. Why do I put off doing the terrible deed that must be done? Come, wretched hand, take the sword, take it and go to your life's miserable goal. Do not weaken, do not remember that you love the children, that you gave them life. Instead, for this brief day forget them — and mourn hereafter: for even if you kill them, they were dear to you. Oh, what an unhappy woman I am! Exit Medea into the house.
[tr. Kovacs (Perseus) (1994); tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]

My friends, my resolve is fixed on the deed, to kill my children with all speed and to flee from this land: I must not, by lingering, deliver my children for murder to a less kindly hand. They must die at all events, and since they must, I who gave them birth shall kill them. Come, put on your armor, my heart. Why do I put off doing the terrible deed that must be done? Come, luckless hand, take the sword, take it and go to your life's miserable goal. Do not weaken, do not remember that you love the children, that you gave them life. Instead, for this brief day forget them — and mourn hereafter: for even if you kill them, they were dear to you. Oh, what an unhappy woman I am!
Exit Medea into the house.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]

My friends, I have decided to act and at once. I will kill the children and then quit this land. I will not delay and so deliver them to other hands to spill their blood more eagerly. They must be killed; there is no other way. And since they must, I will take their life, I who gave them life. Come, my heart, put on your armour! We must not hesitate to do this deed, this terrible yet necessary deed! Come, wretched hand of mine, grip the sword, grip it! On to the starting line! A painful race awaits you now! No time now for cowardice or thinking of your children, how much you love them, how you brought them into this world. No, for one day, one fleeting day, forget your children; there will be the rest of your life for weeping. For though you will put them to the sword, you loved them well. Oh, I am a woman born to sorrow!
[Medea turns and goes into the house.]
[tr. Davie (1996)]

Enough, my friends!
My mind is made up. I’ve decided to kill my children and to leave this country. I haven’t a moment longer lest someone takes my children and they are slaughtered by some enemy’s hands. Die they must and so, better they die by me who gave birth to them.
Come, my heart, arm yourself. This is no time for equivocations. Need has forced this evil. So why wait? Come terrible hand, pick up the knife! Take it and take also the final, the most bitter step, the last step of life. Don’t be a coward now. Don’t think about the love you have for them, the life you gave them.
Today, forget that you have any children at all! Leave the crying for another day.
So what if you’re their murderer?
Their love will follow you for ever -- just as misery will.
Exit Medea
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

My friends. I have determined to do the deed at once,
to kill my children and leave this land,
and not to falter or give my children
over to let a hand more hostile murder them.
They must die and since they must
I, who brought them into the world, will kill them.
But arm yourself, my heart. Why hesitate
to do these tragic, yet necessary, evils?
Come, unhappy hand of mine, take the sword
take it, move to the dismal turning point of life.
Do not be a coward. Do not think of your children —
how much you love them, how you gave them birth.
For this one short day forget your children,
and mourn tomorrow. For even if you kill them
still you loved them very much. I am an unhappy woman.
Exit Medea.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]

I’ve made up my mind, my friends.
I’ll do it — kill my children now, without delay,
and flee this land. I must not hesitate.
That would hand them over to someone else
to be slaughtered by a hand less loving.
No matter what, the children have to die.
Since that’s the case, then I, who gave them life,
will kill them. Arm yourself for this, my heart.
Why do I put off doing this dreadful act,
since it must be done? Come, pick up the sword,
wretched hand of mine. Pick up the sword,
move to where your life of misery begins.
Don’t play the coward. Don’t remember now
how much you love them, how you gave them life.
For this short day forget they are your children
and mourn them later. Although you kill them,
still you loved them. As a woman, I’m so sad.
[Exit MEDEA into the house.]
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

Philai, I am resolved upon the deed: I shall slay my children at once, and then leave this land. I will not delay and so surrender them over to some hostile hand for butchering. They must die in any case, and since they must, I will slay them — I, the mother who bore them. But come, my heart, arm yourself! Why do I hesitate to do the terrible [deina] evils [kaka] that must be done? Come, take the sword, poor hand of mine! Take it, and advance to the starting-post, where your life of sorrow begins! Away with cowardice! Forget your children, forget how most phila they are, and how you bore them. For this brief day forget, and after that lament. Though you will slay them, yet they are your philoi still. And I am a woman of sorrows.
Medea enters the house.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]

He that fansies such a sufficiency in himself, that he can live without all the World, is mightily mistaken; but he that imagines himself so necessary, that other people cannot live without him, is a great deal more mistaken.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶202]

He who imagines he can do without the world, deceives himself much; but he who fancies the world cannot do without him, is still more mistaken.
[ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶192]

He who imagines he can do without the world, deceives himself much: but he who fancies the world cannot do without him, is under a far greater deception.
[ed. Carvill (1835), ¶81]

He who thinks he can find in himself the means of doing without others is much mistaken; but he who thinks that others cannot do without him is still more mistaken.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶210]

He who thinks he has the power to content the world greatly deceives himself, but he who thinks that the world cannot be content with him deceives himself yet more.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871), ¶201]

The man who thinks he can do without the world errs; but the man who thinks the world can do without him is in still greater error.
[tr. Heard (1917), ¶206]

It is a great mistake for a man to suppose that he can dispense with the world; but it is a much greater one to suppose that the world cannot dispense with him.
[tr. Stevens (1939), ¶201]

A man who believes that his inner resources are such that he can dispense with his fellow-men is committing a serious mistake: it is not, however, so serious as that of the man who believes himself indispensable to others.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957), ¶201]

The man who thinks he can do without the world is indeed mistaken: but the man who thinks the world cannot do without him is mistaken even worse.
[tr. Kronenberger (1959), ¶201]

The man who thinks he can find enough in himself to be able to dispense with everybody else makes a great mistake, but the man who thinks he is indispensable to others makes an even greater.
[tr. Tancock (1959), ¶201]

He who believes that he can make do without any one else in the world, is very mistaken; but he who believes that nobody in the world could make do without him, deceives himself still more greatly.
[tr. Whichello (2016) ¶201]

But hard necessity constrains: not mine
This saying, but the sentence of the sage,
Nothing is stronger than Necessity.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 560ff]

But thus hath Fate ordained.
Nor is it my assertion, but a maxim
Among the wise established, that there's nought
More powerful than the dread behests of Fate.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

But it needs must be. For it is not my saying, but the saying of wise men: naught has a greater power than terrible necessity.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

But it is necessary. The saying is not mine, but it is a wise word: nothing is stronger than dreadful necessity.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

Yet it needs must be.
Not mine the saying is, but wisdom's saw --
"Stronger is nought than dread Necessity."
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]

There's no other way.
"Needs must," the proverb says; and so I say
"Needs must," and my necessities obey.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]

But necessity compels.
It is not my saying, but it is a weighty one,
that nothing has more strength than hard necessity.
[tr. Warner (1951)]

Well, I must. Nothing is stronger than necessity -- I did not invent that proverb, but it’s true none the less, and very well known.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]

But this is what things have come to.
He spoke wisely -- it wasn't I -- who said:
there is no arm strong enough to bend back dread necessity.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]

But there is no alternative. It is not my own saying, but a wise man's none the less, that nothing is as strong as stern necessity.
[tr. Davie (2002)]

Still needs must I. Yea, this is no saying of mine, but a word of wisdom, "Naught in might exceedeth dread necessity."
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]

But -- "beggars can't be choosers". Hardly an original proverb,
But wise words indeed.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]

Still, I must bow to necessity. A wise man, not I, once said that there’s no mightier force than dire necessity.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]

Still, ‘necessity offers us no choice’.
I didn’t make that up, but it sounds smart.
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]

But it is necessary. The saying is not mine, but it is a wise [sophon] word [epos]: nothing is stronger than dreadful [deinē] necessity.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]

Necessity in a vast Pot
Shuffling the names of great and small,
Draws every one's impartial lot.
[tr. Fanshaw; ed. Brome (1666)]

Yet equal Death doth strike at all,
The haughty Great, and humble Small,
She strikes with an impartial Hand;
She shakes the vast capacious Urn,
And each Man's Lot must take his turn;
Thro every glass she presses equal Sand.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

What are great or small?
Death takes the mean man with the proud;
The fatal urn has room for all.
[tr. Conington (1872)]

Fate, by the impartial law of nature, is allotted both to the conspicuous and the obscure; the capacious urn keeps every name in motion.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Still Fate doth grimly stand.
And with impartial hand
The lots of lofty and of lowly draws
From that capacious urn,
Whence every name that lives is shaken in its turn.
[tr. Martin (1864)]

Necessity with equal law assorts the varying lots;
Though this may bear the lofty name and that may bear the low,
Each in her ample urn she shakes,
And casts the die for all.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

But all with equal law stern Necessity
Allots their place — the high, the lowest,
Ev'ry man's name in that urn is shaken.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

but Doom, with equal law.
Wins high and humblest,
The ample urn shakes every name.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

Alike for high and low Death votes.
His mighty urn will throw
Each name or soon or late.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Yet with impartial justice Necessity allots the fates of high and low alike. The ample urn keeps tossing every name.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

All the same,
Ever and aye Necessity
Dooms high and low impartially;
The vasty urn shakes every name.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Yet still Necessity, the same just dealer,
Allots to high and low
Their fates: her large urn shuffles every name.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Necessity makes the choice.
No matter what your station or situation,
Your name is shake in the urn.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]

Necessity allots the destinies of illustrious and lowly alike. The capacious urn churns every name.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

But Necessity sorts
the fates of high and low with equal
justice: the roomy urn holds every name.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Accident is veiled necessity.
[tr. Wister (1883)]

Then came strange arts, fierce labor all subdues.
Inforc'd by bold Necessity, and Want.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

And various Arts in order did succeed,
(What cannot endless Labour urg'd by need?)
[tr. Dryden (1709), ll. 217-218]

Thus by long labour arts to arts succeed,
Such is the force of all-compelling need.
[tr. Nevile (1767)]

Thus rous'd by varied wants new arts arose,
And strenuous Labour triumph'd at its close.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]

Then various arts ensued. Incessant labour and want, in hardships pressing, surmounted every obstacle.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]

Then came the various arts: oh, grand success
Of reckless toil and resolute distress!
[tr. Blackmore (1871)]

Then came the various arts of life. So toil, relentless toil, and the pressure of want in adversity, conquered the world. [tr. Wilkins (1873)]

Then divers arts arose; toil conquered all,
Remorseless toil, and poverty's shrewd push
In times of hardship.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]

Thus stern Necessity inventive tried
Fresh arts, which life’s increasing wants supplied.
[tr. King (1882)]

Then various arts followed. Unwearying labor overcame every difficulty, and want spurring men on in times of hardship.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]

Then arts many in sort; nothing but yielded to unrelenting toil and the hard pressure of poverty.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]

Then divers arts arose; toil conquered all,
Remorseless toil, and poverty's shrewd push
In times of hardship.
[tr. Greenough (1900)]

Then followed manifold arts: unflinching toil ever one
Triumphs: in hardship's school stern need still drave men on.
[tr. Way (1912)]

Then later times
Brought forth of other arts the varied skill.
Work conquered all, relentless, obstinate,
While poverty and hardship urged it on.
[tr. Williams (1915)]

Then numerous arts arose. Yes, unremitting labour
And harsh necessity's hand will master anything.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]

Then followed all the civilizing arts:
Hard labor conquered all, and pinching need.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]

Then all kinds of skills came into being. Toil has overcome all things, runious toil and need, pressing in harsh circumstances.
[tr. Miles (1980)]

And last the various arts.
Toil mastered everything, relentless toil
And the pressure of pinching poverty.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]

Then came the various arts. Hard labour conquered all,
and poverty’s oppression in harsh times.
[tr. Kline (2001)] https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/VirgilGeorgicsI.php#anchor_Toc533589845:~:text=then%20came%20the,in%20harsh%20times.

Then came the arts in many guises. Relentless work conquered
all difficulties -- work and urgent need when times were hard.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]

All this before the knowledge and know-how which ensued. Hard work prevailed, hard work and pressing poverty.
[tr. Fallon (2006)]

And then myriad arts. Toil subdued the earth, relentless toil, and the prick of dearth in hardship.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]

Then followed other arts; and everything
Was toil, relentless toil, urged on by need.
[tr. Ferry (2015)]

Necessity, not Choice, has brought him here.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]

'Twas fate compell'd him, no profane delight.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 13]

Thereto induc’d
By strict necessity, not by delight.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Nor pleasure draws us, but necessity.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Necessity brings him to it, and not sport.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Necessity the cause, and not delight.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Necessity compels him, not delight.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

Necessity, and not delight, impels us.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Necessity leads us on, and not enjoyment.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Necessity compels us, not delight.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Necessity brings him hither and not delight.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Necessity, not pastime, bringeth him to it.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Necessity doth bring him here, not pastime.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

Necessity brings him to it, and not whim.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Necessity brings him here, not sport nor jest.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

Fate brings him here, not curiosity.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

Necessity brings him to it, and not sport.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

He travels by necessity, not pleasure.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

Necessity has brought him here, not not pleasure.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

It is because he must come, not for amusement.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

It is necessity,
And not pleasure, that puts him on this road.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), ll. 80-81]

Necessity induces us, and not pleasure.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Necessity brings him here, and not desire.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Necessity, not pleasure, leads us on.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

Necessity compels us, not delight.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

He is brought
Here by necessity, not pleasure.
[tr. James (2013)]

φιλία, ‘friendship,’ sometimes rises to the meaning of affection or love, but also includes any sort of kindly feeling, even that existing between business associates, or fellow-citizens. The corresponding verb means both ‘to like’ and ‘to love’; the adjective is generally passive, ‘loved,’ ‘liked,’ ‘dear,’ but sometimes active ‘loving,’ ‘liking,’ and so on, as a noun ‘a friend.’

If it were necessary to choose one word for φιλία the best would be "friendship," but it corresponds as substantive to the meanings of the verb φιλείν and therefore rises at times in point of intensity to "love."

Next in order it follows that we ought to treat of friendship. For friendship, if not itself a virtue, at least involves and implies virtue; and it is, moreover, an absolute essential for a happy life, since without friends no man would choose to live, although possessed of every other good thing.
[tr. Williams (1869)]

It will be natural to discuss friendship or love next, for friendship is a kind of virtue or implies virtue. It is also indispensable to life. For nobody would choose to live without friends, although he were in possession of every other good.
[tr. Welldon (1892)]

After the foregoing, a discussion of friendship will naturally follow, as it is a sort of virtue, or at least implies virtue, and is, moreover, most necessary to our life. For no one would care to live without friends, though he had all other good things.
[tr. Peters (1893)]

After what we have said, a discussion of friendship would naturally follow, since it is a virtue or implies virtue, and is besides most necessary with a view to living. For without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.
[tr. Ross (1908)]

Our next business after this will be to discuss Friendship. For friendship is a virtue, or involves virtue; and also it is one of the most indispensable requirements of life. For no one would choose to live without friends, but possessing all other good things.
[tr. Rackham (1934)]

The next topic we should discuss is friendship, since friendship is a sort of virtue or involves virtue. Furthermore, it is most necessary as regards living. For no one would choose to live without friends, even if he had all the other good things.
[tr. Reeve (1948)]

After what has just been said, a discussion of friendship would follow, for friendship is a virtue or something with virtue, and besides it is most necessary to life, for no one would choose to live without friends, though he were to have all the other goods.
[tr. Apostle (1975)]

After this the next step will be to discuss friendship; for it is a kind of virtue, or implies virtue, and it is also most necessary as for living. Nobody would choose to live without friends, even if he had all the other good things.
[tr. Thomson/Tredennick (1976)]

After this, the next step would be a discussion of friendship, since it is a virtue or involves virtue, and is an absolute necessity in life. No one would choose to live without friends, even if he had all the other goods.
[tr. Crisp (2000)]

It would follow, after these matters, to go through what concerns friendship. For friendship is a certain virtue or is accompanied by virtue; and, further, it is most necessary with a view to life: without friends, no one would choose to live, even if he possessed all other goods.
[tr. Bartlett/Collins (2011)]

• "From your youthful vigor and undaunted courage I expect every advantage. Even the difficulties of our situation inspire me with confidence; for difficulties have often produced prodigies of valor." [tr. Murphy (1807)]
• "Your spirit, your age, your virtue encourage me; and our necessity, too, which even inspires cowards with bravery." [tr. Rose (1831), ch. 61]
• "Your spirit, your age, your valour encourage me, the necessity moreover which makes even the timid brave." [Source (1841)]
• "Your spirit, your age, your valor, give me confidence; to say nothing of necessity, which makes even cowards brave." [tr. Watson (1867)]
• "Your resolution, your age, and your courage, and above all the inevitable nature of the encounter, which often makes even the timid brave, exhort me to this." [tr. Pollard (1882)]

Necessity may render a doubtful act innocent, but it cannot make it praiseworthy.
[tr. Attwell (1896), ¶ 133]

Necessity may render a doubtful action innocent; but it cannot make it praiseworthy.
[tr. Lyttelton (1899), ch. 8, ¶ 16]

It is dangerous to assaile a man, whom you have bereaved of all other meanes to escape or shift for himselfe, but by his weapons: for, necessitie is a violent schoole-mistris, and which teacheth strange lessons.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

It is dangerous to attack a man you have deprived of all means to escape, but by his arms; for necessity dictates violent measures.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

’Tis dangerous to attack a man you have deprived of all means to escape but by his arms, for necessity teaches violent resolutions.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

It is dangerous to attack a man whom you have deprived of any other means of escape than fighting; for an impetuous schoolmistress is necessity.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

It is dangerous to attack a man whom you have deprived of every other means of escape but that of weapons; for necessity is a violent schoolmistress.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

It is hazardous to go and attack a man when you have deprived him of all means of escape save his weapons, for Necessity is a ferocious teacher.
[tr. Screech (1987)]