Suerlye my lorde, I thinke it not ryght nor justice, that the losse of money should cause the losse of mans life. For myne opinion is, that all the goodes in the worlde are not hable to countervayle mans life. But if they would thus say; that the breakynge of justice, and the transgression of the lawes is recompensed with this punishment, and not the losse of the money, then why maye not this extreme and rigorous justice wel be called plaine injurie? For so cruell govemaunce, so streite rules, and unmercyful lawes be not allowable, that if a small offense be committed, by and by the sword should be drawen: nor so stoical ordinaunces are to be borne withall, as to counte al offenses of suche equalitie, that the killing of a man, or the takyng of his money from him were both a matter, and the one no more heinous offense then the other: betwene the whyche two, yf we have anye respecte to equitie, no similitude or equalitie consisteth.
[tr. Robynson (1551)]

It seems to me a very unjust thing to take away a Man's Life for a little Mony; for notyhing in the World can be of equal value with a Man's Life: and if it is said, that it is not for the Mony that one suffers, but for his breaking the Law; I must say extream Justice is an extream Injury: for we ought not to approve of these terrible Laws that make the smallest Offences capital; nor of that Opinion of the Stoicks that makes all Crimes equal, as if there were no difference to be made between the killing of a Man, and the taking his Purse; between wich if we examine things impartially, there is no likeness nor proportion.
[tr. Burnet (1684)]

It seemeth very unjust to me to take away life for a little money, for nothing can be of equal value with life. And if it be said, that the suffering is not for the money, but for the breach of the law, I answer, extreme justice is an extreme injury. For we ought not to approve of those terrible laws, which make the smallest offences capital, nor of that opinion of the stoics which maketh all crimes equal: as if no difference were to be made between killing a man and taking his purse, between which, in reality, there is the greatest disproportion.
[tr. Cayley (1808)]

Surely my lord, I think it not right nor justice, that the loss of money should cause the loss of man’s life. For mine opinion is, that all the goods in the world are not able to countervail man’s life. But if they would thus say: that the breaking of justice, and the transgression of the laws is recompensed with this punishment, and not the loss of the money, then why may not this extreme justice well be called extreme injury? For neither so cruel governance, so strait rules, and unmerciful laws be allowable, that if a small offence be committed, by-and-by the sword should be drawn: nor so stoical ordinances are to be borne withal, as to count all offences of such equality that the killing of a man, or the taking of his money from him were both a matter, and the one no more heinous offence than the other: between the which two, if we have any respect to equity, no similitude or equality consisteth.
[tr. Robinson (1909 ed.)]

Certainly, right reverend father and my kind lord, I think it quite unjust that a man should lose his life for the loss of money. For in my opinion not all the goods that fortune can bestow on us can be set in the scale against a man's life. But if they say that this penalty is attached to the offence against justice and the breaking of the laws, and not to the theft of money, one may well style this extreme justice as extreme wrong. For we ought not to approve of such stern rules of law as should justify the drawing of the sword, when they are disobeyed in trifles, nor on the other hand such Stoical ordinances as count all offences equal, so that there is no difference whether one kills a man or robs him of a coin, when if equity has any meaning, there is no similarity or connexion between the two cases. God has said, "Thou shalt not kill," and shall we so lightly kill a man for taking a little money?
[tr. Richards (1923)]

Your Grace, it seems to me quite unjust to take a man's life because he's taken some money. To my mind, no amount of property is equivalent to a human life. If it's argued that the punishment is not for taking the money, but for breaking the law and violating justice, isn't this conception of absolute justice absolutely unjust? One really can’t approve of a régime so dictatorial that the slightest disobedience is punishable by death, nor of a legal code based on the Stoic paradox that all offences are equal — so that there’s no distinction in law between theft and murder, though in equity the two things are so completely different.
[tr. Turner (1965 ed.)]

Certainly, most reverend and kind Father, I think it altogether unjust that a man should suffer the loss of his life for the loss of someone’s money. In my opinion, not all the goods that fortune can bestow on us can be set in the scale against a man’s life. If they say that this penalty is attached to the offense against justice and the breaking of the laws, hardly to the money stolen, one may well characterize this extreme justice as extreme wrong. For we ought not to approve such stern Manlian rules of law as would justify the immediate drawing of the sword when they are disobeyed in trifles nor such Stoical ordinances as count all offenses equal so that there is no difference between killing a man and robbing him of a coin when, if equity has any meaning, there is no similarity or connection between the two cases.
[tr. Richards/Surtz (1964)]

It seems to me, most kind and reverend father, that it's altogether unjust to take away a man's life for the loss of someone's money. Nothing in the world that fortune can bestow is equal in value to a man's life. If they say the thief suffers not for the money, but for violation of justice and transgression of laws, then this extreme justice should really be called extreme injury. We ought not to approve of these fierce Manlian laws that invoke the sword for the smallest violations. Neither should we accept the Stoic view that considers all crimes equal, as if there were no difference between killing a man and taking a coin from him. If equity means anything, there is no proportion or relation at all between these two crimes.
[tr. Adams (1992 ed.)]

I am persuaded that this punishement is unlawful. Furthermore I thinke ther is no body that knoweth not, how unreasonable, yea, how pernitious a thinge it is to the weale publike, that a thefe and a homicide or murderer, should suffer equall and like punishment. For the thefe seynge that man, that is condempned for thefte in no less jeoperdie, nor judged to no lesse punishment, then him that is convicte of manslaughter; throughe this cogitation onelye he is strongly and forciblye provoked, and in a maner constreined to kill him whome els he woulde have but robbed. For the murder beynge ones done, he is in lesse feare, and in more hoope that the deede shall not be bewrayed or knowen, seynge the partye is nowe deade and rydde oute of the waye, which onelye mighte have uttered and disclosed it. But if he chaunce to be taken and discrived, yet he is in no more daunger and jeoperdie, then if he had committed but single fellonye. Therfore whiles we go about with suche crueltie to make theves aferd, we provoke them to kil good men.
[tr. Robynson (1551)]

I think the putting of Thieves to death is not lawful; and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd, and of ill Consequence to the Common-Wealth, that a Thief and a Murderer should be equally punished; for if a Robber sees that his Danger is the same, if he is convicted of Theft, as if he were guilty of Murder, this will naturally set him on to kill the Person whom otherwise he would only have robbed; since, if the Punishment is the same, there is more security, and less danger of discovery, when he that can best make it is put out of the way; so that terrifying Thieves too much provokes them to cruelty.
[tr. Burnet (1684)]

I think putting thieves to death is not lawful ; and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd, and of ill consequence to the commonwealth, that a thief and a murderer should be equally punished: for if a robber sees that his danger is the same, if he is convicted of theft, as if he were guilty of murder, this will naturally incite him to kill the person whom otherwife he would only have robbed, since if the punishment is the same, there is more security and less danger of discovery, when he that can best make it is put out of the way; so that terrifying thieves too much, provokes them to cruelty.
[tr. Warner (1758)]

I think putting thieves to death, not lawful. And it is obviously absurd, and prejudicial to the commonwealth, that theft and murder should be punished alike. For, if a robber find that his danger is the same, if he be convicted of theft as if he had been guilty of murder, he will be incited to kill the person whom otherwise he would only have robbed; since, the punishment being the same, there is less danger of discovery, when he who can best make it is killed. Thus, terrifying thieves too much, provoketh them to cruelty.
[tr. Cayley (1808)]

I think putting thieves to death is not lawful; and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd and of ill consequence to the commonwealth that a thief and a murderer should be equally punished; for if a robber sees that his danger is the same if he is convicted of theft as if he were guilty of murder, this will naturally incite him to kill the person whom otherwise he would only have robbed; since, if the punishment is the same, there is more security, and less danger of discovery, when he that can best make it is put out of the way; so that terrifying thieves too much provokes them to cruelty.
[tr. Burnet/Morley (1901)]

I am persuaded that this punishment is unlawful. Furthermore, I think there is no body that knoweth not how unreasonable, yea, how pernicious a thing it is to the weal public that a thief and a homicide or murderer should suffer equal and like punishment. For the thief, seeing that man that is condemned for theft in no less jeopardy, nor judged to no less punishment, than him that is convict of manslaughter; through this cogitation only he is strongly and forcibly provoked, and in a manner constrained, to kill him, whom else he would have but robbed. For the murder once done, he is in less care and in more hope, that the deed shall not be betrayed or known, seeing the party is now dead and rid out of the way, which only might have uttered and disclosed it. But if he chance to be taken and discrived, yet he is in no more danger and jeopardy than if he had committed but single felony. Therefore whiles we go about with such cruelty to make thieves afeared, we provoke them to kill good men.
[tr. Robynson/Lupton/Armes (1911)]

I think this punishment unlawful. Now how absurd and even dangerous to the commonwealth it is that a thief and a murderer should receive the same punishment, surely everyone knows. For since the robber sees that he is in as great danger if merely condemned for theft as if he were convicted of murder as well, this consideration alone impels him to murder a man, whom otherwise he would only have robbed; for besides the fact that he is in no more danger if caught, there is greater safety in putting the man out of the way, and a greater hope of covering up the offence, if there is no one left to tell the tale. And so while we try to frighten thieves with excessive cruelty, we urge them on to the destruction of honest men.
[tr. Richards (1923)]

I think this punishment unlawful. Besides, surely everyone knows how absurd and even dangerous to the commonwealth it is that a thief and a murderer should receive the same punishment. Since the robber sees that he is in as great danger if merely condemned for theft as if he were convicted of murder as well, this single consideration impels him to murder the man whom otherwise he would only have robbed. In addition to the fact that he is in no greater danger if caught, there is greater safety in putting the man out of the way and greater hope of covering up the crime if he leaves no one left to tell the tale. Thus, while we endeavor to terrify thieves with excessive cruelty, we urge them on to the destruction of honest citizens.
[tr. Richards/Surtz (1964)]

I think it is wrong to put thieves to death. But everybody knows how absurd and even harmful to the public welfare it is to punish theft and murder alike. If theft carries the same penalty as murder, the thief will be encouraged to kill the victim whom otherwise he would only have robbed. When the punishment is the same, murder is safer, since one conceals both crimes by killing the witness. Thus while we try to terrify thieves with extreme cruelty, we really invite them to kill innocent men.
[tr. Adams (1992 ed.)]

I think putting thieves to death is not lawful; and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd and of ill consequence to the commonwealth that a thief and a murderer should be equally punished; for if a robber sees that his danger is the same if he is convicted of theft as if he were guilty of murder, this will naturally incite him to kill the person whom otherwise he would only have robbed; since, if the punishment is the same, there is more security, and less danger of discovery, when he that can best make it is put out of the way; so that terrifying thieves too much provokes them to cruelty.
[tr. Open Utopia (Duncombe) (2012)]

But the height
Of tow'ring greatness long to mortal man
Remains not fix'd; and, when misfortune comes
Enraged, in deeper ruin sinks the house.
[tr. Potter (1814)]

But too high-pitched luck
Stands no mortal in stead at the time of need;
Nay, more, when the god is stirred to his wrath,
Dowers greater curse on the house.
[tr. Webster (1868)]

But greatness that doth o'erreach itself, brings no blessing to mortal men; but pays a penalty of greater ruin whenever fortune is wroth with a family.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

But excess of fortune brings more power to men than is convenient, and has brought greater woes upon families, when the Deity be enraged.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

But to men never weal above measure
Availed: on its perilous height
The Gods in their hour of displeasure
The heavier smite.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

But the fiercely great
Hath little music on his road,
And falleth, when the hand of God
Shall move, most deep and desolate.
[tr. Murray (1906)]

Greatness brings no profit to people.
God indeed, when in anger, brings
Greater ruin to great men’s houses.
[tr. Warner (1944)]

This is the wild and terrible justice of God: it brings on great persons
The great disasters. [tr. Jeffers (1946)]

To be rich and powerful brings no blessing;
Only more utterly
Is the prosperous house destroyed, when the gods are angry.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]

Excess on the other hand
Always surpasses what is appropriate for men.
When heaven is angered at a house
It pays back ruin in plenty.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]

But excessive riches mean no advantage for mortals, and when a god is angry at a house, they make the ruin greater.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]

Excess, though, means no profit for man and pays him back with greater ruin, whenever a house earns heaven's anger.
[tr. Davie (1996)]

If man holds something else dearer to moderation, he will most certainly lose out in the end. Add to that the wrath of the gods, which will fall most heavily upon such a man’s house and which will destroy him.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

But excess
never should have a place in our lives.
It brings all the greater ruin
when some god feels spite toward a house.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]

Going for too much brings no benefits.
And when the gods get angry with some home,
the more wealth it has, the more it is destroyed.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

Excess does not yield any gain,
for when a god is angry with a house
it pays with great destruction.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]

Extreme greatness brings no balance to mortal men, and pays a penalty of greater disaster [atē] whenever a superhuman force [daimōn] is angry with a household [oikos].
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]

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]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps the murder of your guests seems light,
We Greeks esteem it base. If I acquit thee
How shall I scape reproach? Indeed, I cannot:
since thou hast dar'd to perpetrate the crime,
Endure the consequences.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

Perhaps with you it is a slight thing to kill your guests; but with us Grecians this thing is abhorred. How then, in giving my decision that thou hast not injured, can I escape blame? I can not; but as thou hast dared to do things dishonorable, endure now things unpleasant.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]

Haply with you guest-murder is as nought,
But to us which be Greeks foul shame is this.
How can I uncondemned adjudge thee guiltless?
I cannot. Forasmuch as thou hast dared
To do foul deeds, even drain thy bitter cup.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

Perhaps among you it is a light thing to murder guests, but with us in Hellas it is a disgrace. How can I escape reproach if I judge you not guilty? I could not. No, since you endured your horrid crime, endure as well its painful consequence.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]

Perhaps you think it is a trifling matter
to kill a guest.
We Greeks call it murder.
How, therefore, could I acquit you now
without losing face among men?
I could not do it.
You committed a brutal crime; therefore accept
the consequences of your act.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]

Perhaps for lesser breeds it's no great thing to kill a guest, but to us Greeks it is. If I say you did no wrong I can't escape the censure and the blame that I'll incur. Since you were tough enough to do such deeds be tough enough to suffer the results.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]

Maybe you think
killing a guest -- in this case a child who’d been
put in your care -- is a small matter in the larger
scheme of things. But we Greeks think of it
as heinous murder. How could I rule you innocent
and maintain a shred of credibility? I can’t.
You committed a brutal crime; be prepared,
therefore, for a justly brutal punishment.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]

One man steals a purse, and is punished. Another steals a State, and becomes a Prince.
[tr. Giles (1889)]

Here is one who steals a hook (for his girdle); -- he is put to death for it: here is another who steals a state; -- he becomes its prince.
[tr. Legge (1891)]

A poor man must swing
For stealing a belt buckle
But if a rich man steals a whole state
He is acclaimed
As statesman of the year.
[tr. Merton (1965)]

This one steals a buckle and he is executed, that one steals a country and he becomes its ruler.
[tr. Palmer (1996)]

He who steals a belt buckle pays with his life; he who steals a state gets to be a feudal lord.
[tr. Watson (2013)]

One steals a hook -- he is put to death. Another steals a state -- he becomes a prince.
[tr. Yang/Höchsmann (2007)]

He who steals a belt buckle is executed, but he who steals a state is made a feudal lord.
[tr. Ziporyn (2009)]

Steal money you're a thief; steal a country you're a king.
["Japanese proverb"]

Stealing a dog is said to be immoral. Still, they steal a country and call it righteousness.
[Source]

To steal a purse is rightly held a crime.
To steal a country is an act sublime.
[Percy Russell (1919)]

One who steals a pearl is persecuted as a thief. One who steals a nation is revered as a king.
[Source]

When you steal a pin, you are executed; but if you steal a country, you become a king.
[Chinese historian Sima Qian (c. 145 – c. 86 BC)]

One who steals a little is a thief. One who steals a little bit more is a robber. And one who steals a nation is a king.
[Source]

To steal a fruit means theft, while to steal a country does not.
["Old Chinese saying"]

Those that steal a loaf of bread are hanged as thieves - those that steal a country are made emperor.
[Source]

Steal an apple and you're a thief. Steal a country and you're a statesman.
[Disney's Aladdin (2019)]

The peculiarity of punishment of this kind, in which what is pitiless, that is to say, what is brutalising, predominates, is to transform little by little, by a slow stupefaction, a man into an animal, sometimes into a wild beast.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

The peculiarity of punishments of this nature, in which naught but what is pitiless, that is to say, brutalizing, prevails, is gradually, and by a species of stupid transfiguration, to transform a man into a wild beast, at times a ferocious beast.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

The peculiarity of pains of this nature, in which that which is pitiless -- that is to say, that which is brutalizing -- predominates, is to transform a man, little by little, by a sort of stupid transfiguration, into a wild beast; sometimes into a ferocious beast.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

The peculiarity of punishment of this kind, in which the pitiless or brutalizing part predominates, is to transform gradually by a slow numbing process a man into an animal, sometimes into a wild beast.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

It is in the nature of such punishment -- in which what prevails is the pitiless, in other words, the brutalizing -- to transform a man little by little, by a kind of stupid transfiguration, into a wild beast, sometimes a ferocious beast.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]

FINE. A bribe paid by a rich man to escape the lawful penalty of his crime. In China such bribes are paid to the judge personally; in America they are paid to him as agent for the public. But it makes no difference to the men who pay them -- nor to the men who can't pay them.
[A Book of Burlesques, "The Jazz Webster" (1924)]

Fine -- A bribe paid by a rich man to escape the lawful penalty of his crime. In China such bribes are paid to the judge personally; in America they are paid to him as agent for the public. But it makes no difference to the men who pay them -- nor to the men who can’t pay them.
[Chrestomathy, ch. 30 "Sententiae" (1949)]

O you habit of sinning, what delight you afford to the wicked and the audacious, when chastisement is afar off, and when impunity attends you!
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

Alas, the habit of evil-doing! what pleasure it affords to the depraved and the shameless, when punishment is in abeyance, and has been replaced by license.
[Source (1906)]

Flames Theodore's Pierian roofs did seize.
Can this Apollo, this the Muses, please?
O oversight of the gods! O dire disaster!
To burn the harmless house, and spare the master!
[tr. Killigrew (1695)]

Poor poet Dogrel's house consum'd by fire?
Is the muse pleas'd? or father of the lyre?
O cruel Fate! what injury you do,
To burn the house! and not the master too!
[tr. Hay (1755), ep. 94]

The poor poet Theodore's goods, in a flame,
Gave you, wicked Muses, and Phebus full glee.
Ye sov'rain disposers, what sin and what shame,
That holder and house so disparted should be!
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 3, ep. 49]

Fitzgerald's house hath been on fire -- the Nine
All smiling saw that pleasant bonfire shine.
Yet -- cruel Gods! Oh! ill-contrived disaster!
The house is burnt -- the house -- without the Master!
[tr. Byron (c. 1820); referencing Irish/British poet, William Thomas Fitzgerald (1759-1829)]

The flames have destroyed the Pierian dwelling of the bard Theodorus. Is this agreeable to you, you muses, and you, Phoebus? Oh shame, oh great wrong and scandal of the gods, that house and householder were not burned together!
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]

The poetic abode of bard Theodorus a fire has destroyed. Does this please you, ye Muses, and you, Phoebus? Oh, what guilt, oh, what a huge crime and scandal of the gods is here! House and master did! House and master did not burn together!
[tr. Ker (1919)]

A poet’s house consumed by fire!
Phoebus and ye, the heavenly choir,
What vengeance will ye now require
For such a fell disaster?
How foul a deed, how black a shame!
Can men acquit the gods of blame
When they delivered to the flame
The house and not its master?
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921), "The Gods' Mistake"]

Where were ye, Muses, when in angry flame
Sank Pye's Pierian dwelling? Phoebus, shame!
Oh cruel sin, o scandal to the sky,
To bake the Pye-dish and forget the Pye!
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 634; referring to Henry James Pye (1745-1813), Poet Laureate of the UK]

Not a single trace remains
Of poet Theodorus' home.
Everything completely burned,
Every last poetic tome!
You Muses and Apollo too,
Now are you fully satisfied?
O monstrous shame that when it burned
The poet was not trapped inside!
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]

Flames have gutted th' abode Pierian
Of the wide-renowned poet Theodorus.
Didst thou permit this sacrilege, Apollo?
Where were ye, Muse's Chorus?
Ay me, I fondly sight, that was a crime,
A wicked deed, a miserable disaster.
Ye gods are much to blame: ye burnt the house
But failed to singe its master!
[tr. Wender (1980)]

Ted's studio burnt down, with all his poems.
Have the Muses hung their heads?
You bet, for it was criminal neglect
not also to have sautéed Ted.
[tr. Matthews (1992)]

Fire has consumed the Pierian home of poet Theodoras. Does this please the Muses and you, Phoebus? Oh crime, oh monstrous villainy and reproach to heaven! -- that house and householder did not perish together.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]

Flames took the home of poet Theodorus.
Are the Muses and Phoebus pleased with this disaster?
What a great crime and insult to the gods
not to have burned together home and master!
[tr. McLean (2014)]

In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put an admiral to death, in order to encourage the others to fight.
[tr. Smollett (1759)]

In this country it is found good, from time to time, to kill one Admiral to encourage the others.
[Source (1859)]

In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put one admiral to death, in order to spirit up the others.
[tr. Smollett/Thornton (1920)]

In this country it is good to kill an Admiral from time to time to encourage the others.
[Modern Library ed. (1920)]

In this country it is necessary, now and then, to put one admiral to death in order to inspire the others to fight.
[tr. Morley (1922)]

In this country it is a good thing to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others.
[Random House ed. (1928)]

In this country it’s good to kill an admiral now and then, to encourage the others.
[tr. Bair (1959)]

In this country it is found requisite,now and then to kill an admiral, in order to encourage the others.
[tr. Cameron (1997)]

In this country they think it's good to kill an Admiral from time to time, to encourage the others.
[tr. Gordon (1999)]

In France we leave unmolested those who set fire to the house and persecute those who sound the alarm bell.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902)]

In France we harry the man who rings the alarum bell, and leave the man in peace who starts the fire.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]

In France, those who commit arson are left in peace, and those who sound the alarm are persecuted.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]

In France, we leave arsonists in peace and persecute those who sound the alarm.
[tr. Parmée (2003), ¶ 257]

In France, people leave alone the person who started the fire and persecute the one who rings the bell.
[tr. Siniscalchi (1994), ¶ 499]

My Guide, who me observed thus intent,
Said, Sprits are inclosed in those fires,
And each is wrapt in that by which he's burnt.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 45ff]

"Behold yon countless fires," the Mantuan cry'd,
"Each spiral flame a criminal contains,
And wraps the victim round in viewless chains.
See! how they shrink, and strive their woes to hide."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]

The guide, who mark’d
How I did gaze attentive, thus began:
“Within these ardours are the spirits, each
Swath’d in confining fire.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Mine earnest gaze
My leader noting told: "These fires are fraught
With each a soul, that round itself hath twined
The flame it suffers."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

And the Guide, who saw me thus attent, said: "Within these fires are the psirits; each swathes himself with that which burns him."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

The guide, who saw me thus attentive look --
"In fires," he said, "the spirts are inhumed,
And swathed in that with which at first illumed."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

My guide, who mark'd my keen desire to know,
Then said -- "Within these flames are spirits held;
And his own flame to each one clothing makes."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

And the Leader, who beheld me so attent,
⁠Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are;
⁠Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

And the Leader who saw me thus intent said: "Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed of that wherewith he is kindled."
[tr. Butler (1885)]

My chief, who saw me so intently stand,
Told me: "Within the flames the spirits bide;
Each one is swathed in his consuming band."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

And the Leader, who saw me thus attent, said, “Within these fires are the spirits; each is swathed by that wherewith he is enkindled.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]

And my Guide, who saw me thus intent, said: "The spirits are within the fires: each one is mantled with what consumeth him."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

And said my guide, who so intent observed me,
"Within the fires thou seest are the spirits:
Each is wrapt round with that wherewith he blazes."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

My Leader, who saw me so intent, said: "Within the flames are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

The Guide, who saw me gazing thus attent,
Said: "Within these fires are the spirits confined,
Burned by the shroud within which they are pent."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Seeing me thus intently lean and hover.
My guide said: “In those flames the spirits go
Shrouded, with their own torment for their cover.”
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

My leader, who saw me so intent, said, “Within the fires are the spirits: each swathes himself with that which burns him.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

And my guide who saw me so absorbed, explained:
"There are souls concealed within these moving fires,
each one swathed in his burning punishment."
[tr. Musa (1971)]

My guide, who noted how intent I was,
told me: “Within those fires there are souls;
each one is swathed in that which scorches him.”
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

My escort, when he saw me so attentive,
Said: ‘In each fire there is a spirit;
Each one is wrapped in what is burning him.’
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

Seeing how from the top
I gazed intently down, my master said,
"Within the flames are spirits; each one here
Enfolds himself in what burns him."
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

And my leader, who saw me so intent, said: “Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him inwardly.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]

And the guide, who saw me so intent, said: ‘The spirits are inside those fires: each veils himself in that which burns him.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]

My leader, who had seen how hard I gazed,
informed me now: ‘In all these fires are souls.
Each one is swaddled in its inward blaze.’
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

My leader, when he saw me so intent, said:
'These spirits stand within the flames.
Each one is wrapped in that in which he burns.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

And my Master said, seeing these sights working
On me: "Here the spirits are inside their flames,
Each sinner wrapped in the sin which burned him on earth."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

And then my Leader, seeing me
Look so intent, said “All these flames are what
False counsellors must wear and be burned by.”
[tr. James (2013), l. 53ff]

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]

The divine punishment of perjury is destruction: the human penalty is infamy.
[tr. Barham (1842)]

The divine punishment of perjury is destruction -- the human penalty is infamy.
[tr. Barham/Yonge (1878)]

The divine punishment for perjury is death, the human punishment is disgrace.
[tr. Rudd (1998)]

For perjury the divine penalty is destruction; the human one, disgrace.
[tr. Zetzel (1999)]

For perjury the divine punishment is destruction, the human punishment is shame.
[tr. @sententiq (2022)]

How many Kings were thought of high renown,
Who wallow in this marsh, like Hogs in mire,
Leaving their horrid characters behind!
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 41ff]

There many a regal Chief of ancient note,
Wallowing thro' mire obscene lament their lot,
In ruin roll'd, like brethren of the sty.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9]

There above
How many now hold themselves mighty kings
Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!
[tr. Cary (1814)]

How many kings now there set up their horn,
That here shall wallow as in filth the swine,
And leave their names to execrable scorn!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

How many up there now think themselves great kings, that shall lie here like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

How many mighty kings are now above,
Shall one day stand like hogs within their stye,
Disparaging their memory terribly.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Above how many live as mighty kings
Who here like swine shall grovel in the mire,
Leaving behind them shame and foul contempt!
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

How many are esteemed great kings up there,
⁠Who here shall be like unto swine in mire,
⁠Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

How many now hold themselves great kings up there who shall stand here like swine in the slush, leaving horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Many great kings who now lift up their horns
Will wallow here like swine in filthy swill,
Leaving their memories to most horrible scorns.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

How many now up there are held great kings who shall stand here like swine in mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

How many are there that bear themselves above as mighty kings, that here shall stand like swine in slush, leaving behind them loathing and condemnation!
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

How many count themselves up there great princes,
Who here like hogs in mire shall have their station,
Leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

How many above there now account themselves great kings who shall lie here like swine in the mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

How many above there deem themselves great kings
Now, who shall lie wallowing in mire like swine,
Leaving a name that with dishonor rings!
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Many who strut like kings up there are such
As here shall wallow hog-like in the mud,
Leaving behind nothing but foul reproach.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

How many living now, chancellors of wrath,
shall come to lie here yet in this pigmire,
leaving a curse to be their aftermath!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

How many up there now account themselves great kings, that here shall lie like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible dispraises.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

How many up above now count themselves
great kings, who'll wallow here like pigs in slime,
leaving behind foul memories of crimes!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

How many, up there, think themselves great kings
Who here will wallow in the mire like pigs,
Leaving behind them nothing but infamous horrors.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

In the world above, how many a self-deceiver
Now counting himself a mighty king will sprawl
Swinelike amid the mire when life is over,
Leaving behind a name that men revile.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

How many consider themselves great kings up
above, who here will be like pigs in the mire, leaving
behind horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Durling (1996)]

How many up there think themselves mighty kings, that will lie here like pigs in mire, leaving behind them dire condemnation!
[tr. Kline (2002)]

How many, in the world above, pose there
as kings but here will like like pigs in much,
leaving behind them horrible dispraise.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

How many now above who think themselves
great kings will lie here in the mud, like swine,
leaving behind nothing but ill repute!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

How many think themselves the greatest of kings,
But here will lie around like pigs in slime,
Remembered for having indulged in horrible things!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

And there are others up there of the same
Persuasion they are kings. They, too, will be
Pigs in this filthy sty, and leave behind
Nothing but curses rained upon the hole
Their swelled heads filled.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]

Cerb'rus, a beast implacable and fierce,
Incessant's barking with his triple throat
At the poor wretches who are here confin'd.
His eyes are fiery read, his greasy Beard
Is black and nasty, and his Belly's swoln.
He the Sprites scratches with his hooked claws,
Flays off their skins, and into quarters tears.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 12ff]

Hell's bloodhound there his triple form extends.
And ever and anon the savage rends
Some wand'ring wretch, and dyes his fangs in gore;
His flaming eyes the troubled deep survey.
Loud gnash his teeth and hold the damn'd at bay,
Whose captive bands in vain his rage deplore.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 3]

Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,
Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog
Over the multitude immers’d beneath.
His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,
His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which
He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs
Piecemeal disparts.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Cerberus, a ruthless beast of uncouth mould,
Barks hell-hound like, with triple gorge and grim,
O'er those whom yonder slough engulphed doth hold.
Red are his eyes, black and of greasy trim
His beard, and huge his paunch ; his clawed hands quell
The mangled sprites; he flays, and limb from limb
Rends them.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Cerberus, a monster fierce and strange, with three throats, barks dog-like over those that are immersed in it.
His eyes are red, his beard [greasy] and black, his belly wide, and clawed his hands; he clutches the spirits, flalys, and piecemeal rends them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Cerberus -- wild beast, cruel, monstrous --
While as three throats the dog of famine urge,
To bark o'er those the waters thus submerge:
His eyes vermilion, unctuous beard and black;
His belly large, and claws upon each hand --
Cuts, flays, and quarters spirits at command.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

The monster Cerberus, cruel, fierce and strange,
Barks like a dog from out his triple throat
over the multitude sumergèd there.
With eyes vermilion, black and filthy beard,
With belly large, with sharp and piercing claws
He tears those spirits, flays, dismembers them.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
⁠With his three gullets like a dog is barking
⁠Over the people that are there submerged. ⁠
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black,
⁠And belly large, and armed with claws his hands;
⁠He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Cerberus, beast cruel and uncouth, with three throats barks in dog-wise over the folk that there is submerged. Scarlet eyes has he, and his beard greasy and black, and his belly large, and his paws armed with nails. He claws the spirits, mouths them and tears them up.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Wild Cerberus, of twofold nature rare.
With three throats hurleth out the doglike bark
Upon the people that are cowering there.
His eyes are red, his greasy beard is dark.
His belly large and fingers armed with nails;
He tears, and flays, and rends the spirits stark.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Cerberus, a beast cruel and monstrous, with three throats barks doglike above the people that are here submerged. He has vermilion eyes, and a greasy and black beard, and a big belly, and hands armed with claws: he tears the spirits, flays them, and rends them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Cerberus, the pitiless and outlandish beast, barks in dog-like fashion through triple throat above the souls that lie immersed there. Red are the eyes he hath, his beard foul and black, his belly gross, and his paws armed with talons. He claws the shades, he flayeth and he teareth them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Cerberus, cruel and misshapen monster,
Barketh with triple throat in doglike fashion
Over the folk which in that place is sunken.
Vermilion eyes he hath, beard black and greasy.
And belly wide, and hands arrayed with talons.
The spirits he doth scratch, and flay and quarter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

Cerberus, a beast fierce and hideous, with three throats barks like a dog over the people that are immersed there; he has red eyes, a beard greasy and black, a great belly, and clawed hands, and he scars and flays and rends the spirits.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

Cerberus, the cruel, misshapen monster, there
Bays in his triple gullet and doglike growls
Over the wallowing shades; his eyeballs glare
A bloodshot crimson, and his bearded jowls
Are greasy and black; pot-bellied, talon-heeled,
He clutches and flays and rips and rends the souls.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

Here monstrous Cerberus, the ravening beast,
howls through his triple throats like a mad dog
over the spirits sunk in that foul paste.
His eyes are red, his beard is greased with phlegm,
His belly is swollen, and his hands are claws
to rip the wretches and flay and mangle them.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

Cerberus, monstrous beast and cruel, with three throats barks doglike over the people who are here submerged. His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly wide and his hands taloned; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

Cerberus, a ruthless and fantastic beast,
with all three throats howls out his dog-like sounds
above the drowning sinners of this place.
His eyes are red, his beard is slobbered black,
his belly swollen, and he has claws for hands;
he rips the spirits, flays and mangles them.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

Over the souls of those submerged beneath
that mess, is an outlandish, vicious beast,
his three throats barking, doglike: Cerberus.
His eyes are blood red; greasy, black, his beard;
his belly bulges, and his hands are claws;
his talons tear and flay and rend the shades.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

Cerberus, a cruel and outlandish beast,
Barks like a dog, from his three throats, at those
Who, under that downpour, are there submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black,
His belly huge, and his fingers are clawed.
He scratches the spirits, skins them, pulls them to bits.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous and cruel,
Barks doglike at the souls immersed here, louder
For his triple throat. His eyes are red, his beard
Grease-black, he has the belly of a meat-feeder
And talons on his hands: he claws the horde
Of spirits, he flays and quarters them in the rain.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

Cerberus, cruel, monstrous beast, with three throats barks doglike over the people submerged there.
His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly large, and his hands have talons; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Cerberus, the fierce and strange monster, triple-throated, barks dog-like over the people submerged in it. His eyes are crimson, his beard is foul and black, his belly vast, and his limbs are clawed: he snatches the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Here Cerberus conducts his strange assize:
with all three throats he barks and slabbers
at the muck-bound prisoners he triple-tries.
His eyes are red, his jowls black, his belly fat;
he takes each soul and skins it with his claws
then rips it into little bits thereat.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Cerberus, weird and monstrously cruel,
barks from his triple throats in cur-like yowls
over the heads of those who lie here, drowned.
His eyes vermilion, beard a greasy black,
his belly broad, his fingers all sharp-nailed,
he mauls and skins, then hacks in four, these souls.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

Cerberus, fierce and monstrous beast,
barks from three gullets like a dog
over the people underneath that muck.
His eyes are red, his beard a greasy black,
his belly swollen. With his taloned hands
he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous beast, roams here;
A cruel creature who barks, dog-like, out
Of each of his mouths, at people half-drowned, submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard is black and foul,
His belly broad, there are talons on his hands;
He claws the spirits, rips at their skin, bites holes.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

Savage and bestial Cerberus, three-headed freak,
Barks like a Doberman -- through each of his three throats --
Over those who are forced to wallow in the slop.
Red eyes, filthy bilious whiskers, swollen belly;
With his claws hge excoriates the ghosts --
Then rips their skin off and quarters them.
[tr. Bang (2012)]

The people stuck in it have Cerberus
To guard them. Overhead, that creature shrieks
In anger with three mouths, each hideous
As a mad dog's. Beards greasy black, eyes red,
Big belly, fingers well supplied with nails,
Hed scores and scrapes and tears them to a shred.
[tr. James (2013), l. 14ff]

But when their latest light and life is set,
Not all woes leave them, nor all tortures quite
Forsake the wretches there; and 'tis but right;
Things strangely grown by custome into crimes,
They must be punish'd for their mispent times,
And tortures feele; some in the winds are hung,
Others to clense their spotted sins are flung
In a vast gulph, or purg'd in fire they are:
We all have our own tortures.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Nor can the groveling mind,
In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd,
Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind:
Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains;
But long-contracted filth ev'n in the soul remains.
The relics of inveterate vice they wear,
And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear.
For this are various penances enjoin'd;
And some are hung to bleach upon the wind,
Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires,
Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires
All have their manes, and those manes bear.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Even when with the last beams of light their life is gone, yet not every ill, nor all corporeal stains, are quite removed from the unhappy beings; and it is absolutely necessary that many imperfections which have long been joined to the soul should be in marvelous ways increased and riveted therin. Therefore are they afflicted with punishments, and pay the penalties of their former ills. Some, hung on high, are spread out to the empty winds; in others the guilt not done away is washed out ina vast watery abyss, or burned away in fire. We each endure his own manes.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Nay, when at last the life has fled,
And left the body cold and dead,
E'en then there passes not away
The painful heritage of clay;
Full many a long contracted stain
Perforce must linger deep in grain.
So penal sufferings they endure
For ancient crime, to make them pure:
Some hang aloft in open view
For winds to pierce them through and through,
While others purge their guilt deep-dyed
In burning fire or whelming tide.
Each for himself, we all sustain
The durance of our ghostly pain.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Nor e'en when life's last ray
Has fled, does every ill depart, nor all
Corporeal taints quite leave their unhappy frames,
And needs must be that many a hardened fault
Inheres in wondrous ways. Therefore the pains
Of punishment they undergo, for sins
Of former times. Some in the winds are hung
Suspended and exposed. Others beneath
A waste of waters from their guilt are cleansed,
Or purified by fire. We all endure
Our ghostly retribution.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 918ff]

Nay, and when the last ray of life is gone, not yet, alas! does all their woe, nor do all the plagues of the body wholly leave them free; and needs must be that many a long ingrained evil should take root marvellously deep. Therefore they are schooled in punishment, and pay all the forfeit of a lifelong ill; some are hung stretched to the viewless winds; some have the taint of guilt washed out beneath the dreary deep, or burned away in fire. We suffer, each a several ghost.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Yea, e'en when out of upper day their life at last is borne,
Not all the ill of wretched men is utterly outworn,
Not all the bane their bodies bred; and sure in wondrous wise
The plenteous ill they bore so long engrained in them it lies:
So therefore are they worn by woes and pay for ancient wrong:
And some of them are hung aloft the empty winds among;
And some, their stain of wickedness amidst the water's heart
Is washed away; amidst the fire some leave their worser part;
And each his proper death must bear.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 734ff]

Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
Nay, after death, the traces it retains
Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
Since much must needs by long concretion grow
Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
And schooled in all the discipline of woe;
Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
Our ghostly penance.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 97-98, l. 866ff]

Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell
May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed
From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law,
The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
For this, the chastisement of evils past
Is suffered here, and full requital paid.
Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds;
For some their sin's contagion must be purged
In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas,
Or burned away in fire. Each man receives
His ghostly portion in the world of dark.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Nay, when at their last day life is fled, still not all the evil, alas! not all the plagues of the body quit them utterly; and it must needs be that many a taint, long linked in growth, should in wondrous wise become deeply ingrained. Therefore are they schooled with penalties, and for olden sins pay punishment: some are hung stretched out to the empty winds; from some the stain of guilt is washed away under swirling floods or burned out in fire. Each of us suffers his own spirit.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Yes, not even when the last flicker of life has left us,
Does evil, or the ills that flesh is heir to, quite
Relinquish our souls; it must be that many a taint grows deeply,
Mysteriously grained in their being from long contact with the body.
Therefore the dead are disciplined in purgatory, and pay
The penalty of old evil: some hang, stretched ot the blast of
Vacuum winds; for others, the stain of sin is washed
Away in a vast whirlpool or cauterized with fire.
Each of us finds in the next world his own level.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]

And when the final day of life deserts them,
then, even then, not every ill, not all
the plagues of body quit them utterly;
and this must be, for taints so long congealed
cling fast and deep in extraordinary
ways. Therefore they are schooled by punishment
and pay with torments for their own misdeeds:
some there are purified by air, suspended
and stretched before the empty winds; for some
the stain of guilt is washed away beneath
a mighty whirlpool or consumed by fire.
First each of us must suffer his own Shade.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 970ff]

In fact
Even when life departs on the last day
Not all the scourges of the body pass
From the poor souls, not all distress of life.
Inevitably, many malformations,
Growing together in mysterious ways,
Become inveterate. Therefore they undergo
The discipline of punishments and pay
In penance for old sins: some hang full length
To the empty winds, for some the stain of wrong
Is washed by floods or burned away by fire.
We suffer each his own shade.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 988ff]

Even when life leaves them on their last day of light, they are not wholly freed from all the many ills and miseries of the body which must harden in them over the long years and become ingrained in ways we cannot understand. And so they are put to punishment, to pay the penalty for all their ancient sins. Some are stretched and hung out empty to dry in the winds. Some have the stain of evil washed out of them under a vast tide of water or scorched out by fire. Each of us suffers his own fate in the after-life.
[tr. West (1990)]

Why, when life leaves them at the final hour,
still all of the evil, all the plagues of the flesh, alas,
have not completely vanished, and many things, long hardened
deep within, must of necessity be ingrained, in strange ways.
So they are scourged by torments, and pay the price
for former sins: some are hung, stretched out,
to the hollow winds, the taint of wickedness is cleansed
for others in vast gulfs, or burned away with fire:
each spirit suffers its own.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Nor, when the last gleam
Of life flickers out, are all the ills
That flesh is heir to completely uprooted.
But many corporal taints remain,
Ingrained in the soul in myriad ways.
And so we are disciplined and expiate
Our bygone sins. Some souls are hung
Spread to the winds; others are cleansed
Under swirling waters or purged by fire.
We each suffer our own ghosts.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

True,
but even on that last day, when the light of life departs,
the wretches are not completely purged of all the taints,
nor are they wholly freed of all the body’s plagues.
Down deep they harden fast -- they must, so long engrained
in the flesh -- in strange, uncanny ways. And so the souls
are drilled in punishments, they must pay for their old offenses.
Some are hung splayed out, exposed to the empty winds,
some are plunged in the rushing floods -- their stains,
their crimes scoured off or scorched away by fire.
Each of us must suffer his own demanding ghost.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 849ff]

Poor things, even when life leaves them on the day of death, not every sin or canker of the flesh fully recedes. Many habits harden over time, and in this way become ingrained. So they pay for former crimes by torment: exposed to hollow winds by crucifixion, washed clean of infection in a whirling flood, or cauterized by fire -- we all suffer our soul's cure.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Those who such torments suffered, I learnt,
Were condemn'd to them for their carnal Sins,
Their reason by their Passion being subdued.
And as the Birds, who at the first approach
Of cold, take wing, and gather in thick clouds,
So does the Storm these wretched Spirits drive,
From 'bove, below, and ev'ry side around.
They have no hope of ever being releas'd:
And e'en of lighter punishments despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 32ff]

These were the hapless slaves of lawless love,
Soft pleasure's vot'ries in the world above,
Who the still voice of reason held in scorn;
And as a flight of starlings wing their way,
Riding the wintry blast in long array,
The phantoms fleet, in airy tumult borne.
Aloft we saw the moody revel ride,
Then, in long eddies, like the swallowing tide,
With its full freight the hurricane descends:
Around the sinner sweep, above, below,
Nor respite of their cares rest they, nor refuge know
From the resistless storm that never ends.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8-9]

I understood that to this torment sad
The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom
Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops
And multitudinous, when winter reigns,
The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;
So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On this side and on that, above, below,
It drives them: hope of rest to solace them
Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Then understood I of that woe's intent,
How framed with sinners in the flesh to deal
Who to their passion have their reason bent.
And like as starlings in their aery wheel
Some winter's day float wide upon the wing.
So doth those guilty souls the whirlwind's reel
Now up, now down, now this, now that way fling;
Nor aught to comfort them may soothing hope.
If not of rest, of milder sufferance bring.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

I learnt that to such torment [are] doomed the carnal sinners, who subject reason to lust.
And as their wings bear along the starlings, at the cold season, in large and crowded troop: so that blast, the evil spirits;
hither, thither, down, up, it leads them. No hope ever comforts them, not of rest, but even of less pain.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Of torment such as this, I understood,
Were carnal sinners made to drink their fill,
Their reason who subject unto their will.
And as the starlings spread their wings aloft
In the cold time, in long and crowded flock,
Such are the evil spirits to the shock:
From here to there, from low to high, it leads;
Nor hope nor comfort in their breast remain,
Not of a pause, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Then I perceiv'd this torment was to those
Whose condemnation was for carnal sins,
Who made their reason subject to their lusts.
As starlings in their wingèd strength are borne
In winter season, flocking wide and deep;
So are the wicked spirits by this blast
Upwards and downwards, hither, thither swept,
Having to comfort them of no hope of rest
From their great woe, nor e'en of lesser pain.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

I understood that unto such a torment
The carnal malefactors were condemned,
Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on
In the cold season in large band and full,
So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;
No hope doth comfort them forevermore,
Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

I was aware that to a torment thus fashioned are condemned the carnal sinners who made their reason subject to their inclination. And as their wings bear away the starlings in the cold season, in a broad and thick flock, so did that blast the evil spirits. On this side, on that, up and down it sways them; no hope ever comforts them, I say not of rest, but of a lesser penalty.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Then did I understand that this was pain
Reserved for those who sin in carnal things,
And over reason their desires maintain.
And, like the summer starlings, stretch their wings
In the cold time, in large and ample train,
So that wild wind those evil spirits swings
Hither and thither, up and down again;
No hope can comfort them of far repose
For evermore, nor even of lesser pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

I came to know that to tortures of such a kind were doomed sinners in the flesh, who make their better judg- ment the thrall of lust. And as in winter time starlings are borne on their wings, in large and crowded flock; even so beareth this blast these sinful spirits. Hither and thither, high and low, it whirleth them, nor ever cometh hope of any rest to cheer them, nor even of lesser punishment.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

I understood that unto such like torment
Are damned eternally the carnal sinners.
Who make their reason subject to their passions.
And as their pinions bear along the starlings,
In the chill time, in wide and full battahon,
In such wise doth that blast the wicked spirits:
Hither and thither, up and down, it bears them;
Nor any hope encourages them ever.
Not to say hope of rest, but of less torment.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to desire. As in the cold season their wings bear the starlings along in a broad, dense flock, so does that blast the wicked spirits. Hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them; no hope ever comforts them, not to say of rest, but of less pain.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

I learnt that in such restless violence blown
This punishment the carnal sinners share
Whose reason by desire was over thrown.
And as their beating wings the starlings bear
At the cold season, in broad, flocking flight,
So those corrupted spirits were rapt in air
To and fro, down, up, driven in helpless plight
Comforted by no hope ever to lie
At rest, nor even to bear a pain more light.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Into this torment carnal sinners are thrust,
So I was told -- the sinners who make their reason
Bond thrall under the yoke of their lust.
Like as the starlings wheel in the wintry season
In wide and clustering flocks wing-borne, wind-borne,
Even so they go, the souls who did this treason,
Hither and thither, and up and down, outworn,
Hopeless of any rest -- rest, did I say?
Of the least minishing of their pangs forlorn.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners, who subject reason to desire.
And as their wings bear the starlings along in the cold season, in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast the sinful spirits; hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them. No hope of less pain, not to say of rest, ever comforts them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

I learned that to this place of punishment
all those who sin in lust have been condemned,
those who make reason slave to appetite;
and as the wings of starlings in the winter
bear them along in wide-spread crowded flocks,
so does that wind propel the evil spirits:
here, then there, and up and down, it sweeps them
forever, without hope to comfort them
(hope, not of taking rest, but of suffering less).
[tr. Musa (1971)]

I learned that those who undergo this torment
are damned because they sinned within the flesh,
subjecting reason to the rule of lust.
And as, in the cold season, starlings' wings
bear them along in broad and crowded ranks,
so does that blast bear on the guilty spirits:
now here, now there, now down, now up, it drives them.
There is no hope that ever comforts them --
no hope for rest and none for lesser pain.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

I understood it is to this torment
That are condemned those who sin in the flesh,
And let their reason give way to their wishes.
And, as starlings are carried on their wings
In the cold weather, in a vast wavering troop,
So that breath carries the unfortunate spirits:
It drives them here and there, now down, now up;
There is no hope ever to comfort them;
They cannot stop, or ever suffer less pain.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

I learned
They suffer here who sinned in carnal things --
Their reason mastered by desire, suborned.
As winter starlings ride on their wings
Form crowded flocks, so spirits dip and veer
Foundering in the wind's rough buffetings,
Upward or downward, driven here and there
With never ease from pain nor hope of rest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 34ff]

I understood that to this torment were damned the carnal sinners, who subject their reason to their lust.
nd as their wings carry off the starlings in the cold season, in large, full flocks, so does that breath carry the evil spirits
here, there, down, up; no hope ever comforts them, not of lessened suffering, much less of rest.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust.
And, as their wings carry the starlings, in a vast, crowded flock, in the cold season, so that wind carries the wicked spirits, and leads them here and there, and up and down. No hope of rest, or even lesser torment, comforts them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

And then I learned such torments are incurred
by those who like to practice carnal sin,
when reason is by furtive lust ensnared.
As starlings, when the evenings draw in,
assemble in tremendous seething flocks,
so are those dark souls gathered by the wind,
and hurtled to and fro in random flecks
devoid of hope of rest, or rest from pain
to which they are eternally affixed.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Caught in this torment, as I understood,
were those who -- here condemned for carnal sin --
made reason bow to their instinctual bent.
As starlings on the wing in winter chills
are borne along in wide and teeming flocks,
so on these breathing gusts the evil souls.
This way and that and up and down they're borne.
Here is no hope of any comfort ever,
neither of respite nor of lesser pain.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

I understood that to such torment
the carnal sinners are condemned,
they who make reason subject to desire.
As, in cold weather, the wings of starlings
bear them up in wide, dense flocks,
so does that blast propel the wicked spirits.
Here and there, down and up, it drives them.
Never are they comforted by hope
of rest or even lesser punishment.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

I learned that sinners blown, tormented in bursting
Gales, are those condemned by acts of lust,
Which melt our reason down in desire and thirst.
Just as their wings, stretched wide, hold starlings up
In great, wide flocks fleeing freezing weather,
So those windstorms force the wicked souls
This way, that way, down and up together.
No hope can ever ease their pain, giver comfort;
They never rest, never suffer less.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

I learned this special kind of torment is reserved
For those whose ravenous appetite for carnal knowledge
Allowed lust to triumph over reason.
Like wings carry starlings off in crowded flocks
When the end of October hints at winter, so the wind
Carried these sinners: up, down, and at an angle.
In broad and compact masses.
What is there to comfort them? Neither more peace
Nor less pain, although they beg for both.
[tr. Bang (2012)]

I understood this was the punishment
For carnal sinners, who let appetite
Rule reason, and who, once drawn, are now sent --
Like winter starlings by their wings in flight --
Across the bleak sky in a broad, thick flock:
Here, there, now up, now down, the winds dictate
Their track. Small hope of pausing to take stock
Of whether anguish might not soon abate
At least a little, and no hope at all
Of peace.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]

Diligent care should be taken, in the next place, that the penalty be proportioned to the nature of the crime; and that some do not pass without ever being questioned, while others are punished for the same misdemeanours.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

Great care too must be taken, that the punishment be not greater than the offence; and that some should not be punished for the same offences, for which others are not called to account.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

We ought, likewise, to take care that the punishment be proportioned to the offence, and that some be not punished for doing things for which others are not so much as called to account.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Care also must be taken lest the punishment be greater than the fault, and lest for the same cause some be made penally responsible, and others not even called to account.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

Again, we should never impose a penalty disproportioned to the offence or for the same crime punish one and let another go unchallenged.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

We must take care that the punishment is not in excess of the crime, and that it is not inflicted on some only while others equally guilty are not even brought to trial.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]

One should also be careful that the punishment does not surpass the crime and that some people receive beatings while others do not even receive a reprimand.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

Then fetch’d they down Melanthius, to fulfill
The equal execution; which was done
In portal of the hall, and thus begun:
They first slit both his nostrils, cropp’d each ear,
His members tugg’d off, which the dogs did tear
And chop up bleeding sweet; and, while red-hot
The vice-abhorring blood was, off they smote
His hands and feet; and there that work had end.
Then wash’d they hands and feet that blood had stain’d,
And took the house again.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]

Then down they dragg’d Melantheus, and his nose
And ears with cruel steel from ’s head they tear,
And brake his arms and legs with many blows,
And to the dogs to eat they throw his gear.
Their work now done, they wash’d their hands and feet,
And to Ulysses in the hall they went,
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 417]

And now through vestibule and hall
They led Melanthius forth. With ruthless steel
They pared away his ears and nose, pluck’d forth
His parts of shame, destin’d to feed the dogs,
And, still indignant, lopp’d his hands and feet.
Then, laving each his feet and hands, they sought
Again Ulysses; all their work was done,
[tr. Cowper (1792), l. 548ff]

Then to the courtyard they Melanthius draw,
Lop with knife his nose and ears, and cast
His manhood to the dogs, to eat up raw,
And his limbs dock with iron -- for so vast
Burned the grim wrath within them. At the last,
Washed in pure water, and with hands and feet
Clean from the red gore, to the king they passed;
And all was over, and the work complete.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 57]

Then dragged they Melanthius forth to the porch and courtyard:
From him nose and ears with the ruthless brass
They sheared: and threw his manhood to the dogs:
And chopped off his hands and feet in vengeful rage!
This done, they washed their hands and feet; and hied
To Odysseus int he house: and the work was done.
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]

Melantius
Was through the corridor and hall led out.
The armed men his nostrils and his ears
With pitiless blade excis'd: his very groin
Was to the rav'nous maw of hounds laid bare;
And both his hands and feet, -- so hotly raged
Avenging wrath! -- were from his body hewn.
Telemachus, at length, and both the herds
When they their hands and feet by blood defil'd
Had in ablusion cleans'd, the house regain'd
And there Ulysses join'd. The work had now
Its full completion reach'd.
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 755ff]

Then they led out Melanthius through the doorway and the court, and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless sword, and drew forth his vitals for the dogs to devour raw, and cut off his hands and feet in their cruel anger. Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to Odysseus, and all the adventure was over.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]

Then did they bring Melanthius through the port and into the court,
And they cropped with the ruthless brass the ears and the nose from his face,
And drew out his privy parts for the dogs to eat raw in the place,
And hewed off his hands and his feet in their fierce and fell intent.
Then their hands and their feet they washed, and into the house they went,
And came unto Odysseus, and done was the work of the day.
[tr. Morris (1887)]

Then forth they led Melanthius across the porch and yard. With ruthless sword they lopped off his nose and and ears, pulled out his bowels to be eaten raw by dogs, and in their rage cut off his hands and feet. Afterwards, washing clean their own hands and their feet, they went to meet Odysseus in the house, and all the work was done.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]

As for Melanthius, they took him through the cloister into the inner court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut off his hands and his feet. When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, for all was now over.
[tr. Butler (1898)]

As for Melanthios, they took him through the room into the inner court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut off his hands and his feet. When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, for all was now over.
[tr. Butler (1898), rev. Power/Nagy]

Then forth they led Melanthius through the doorway and the court, and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless bronze, and drew out his vitals for the dogs to eat raw, and cut off his hands and his feet in their furious wrath. Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to Odysseus, and the work was done.
[tr. Murray (1919)]

Melanthius they dragged through the entry and the court, sliced his nose and ears with their cruel swords and tore out his privates, which they fed raw to the dogs. Their spite made them also cut off his hands and feet, after which they rinsed their own feet and hands and rejoined Odysseus in the house, all their achievement perfected.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]

Next Melanthius was dragged out across the court and through the gate. There with a sharp knife they sliced his nose and ears off; they ripped away his privy parts as raw meat for the dogs, and in their fury they lopped off his hands and feet. Then, after washing their own hands and feet, they went back indoors to Odysseus and the business was finished.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]

From the storeroom to the court they brought Melanthios, chopped with swords to cut his nose and ears off, pulled off his genitals to feed the dogs and raging hacked his hands and feet away. As their own hands and feet called for a washing, they went indoors to Odysseus again. Their work was done.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]

They took Melanthios along the porch and the courtyard.
They cut off, with the pitiless bronze, his nose and his ears,
tore off his private parts and gave them to the dogs to feed on
raw, and lopped off his hands and feet, in fury of anger.
Then, after they had washed their own hands and feet clean,
they went into the house of Odysseus. Their work was ended.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]

Melanthius was led outside the door into the court; with savage bronze they hacked off both his ears and nose, cut off his genitals -- a raw meal for the dogs -- and then, with frenzied hearts, hacked off his hands and feet. Their work complete, as soon as they had washed their hands and feet, again they joined Odysseus in the house.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]

Melanthius?
They hauled him out through the doorway, into the court,
lopped his nose and ears with a ruthless knife,
tore his genitals out for the dogs to eat raw
and in manic fury hacked off hands and feet. Then,
once they'd washed their own hands and feet,
they went inside again to join Odysseus.
Their work was done with now.
[tr. Fagles (1996)]

Then they brought Melanthius outside,
And in their fury they sliced off
His nose and ears with cold bronze
And pulled his genitals out by the root --
Raw meat for the dogs -- and chopped off
His hands and feet. This done,
They washed their own hands and feet
And went back into their master's great hall.
[tr. Lombardo (2000), l. 498ff]

Leading Melánthios out to the portico, then to the courtyard,
there with the pitiless bronze they cut off his nose and his ears, then
tore out his privates and gave them raw to the dogs to be eaten,
also chopped off his hands and his feet in the wrath of their spirits.
Finally, when they had cleansed their hands and their feet of the carnage,
they went into the house of Odysseus; the labor was finished.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]

Next they dragged Melanthius out through the hall entrance and across the court. There with a pitiless knife they sliced his nose and ears off; they ripped away his genitals as raw meat for the dogs, and in their fury they lopped off his hands and feet. Then, after washing their own hands and feet, they went back indoors to Odysseus and the business was finished.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]

Then they dragged Melanthius out through the door into the yard, and with the pitiless bronze sliced off his nose and ears, tore away his genitals to be raw meat for the dogs to eat, and in their raging fury lopped off his hands and feet as well. After this they scoured the gore from their hands and feet, and went into the house to meet Odysseus, their work done.
[tr. Verity (2016)]

Then the men took Melanthius outside and with curved bronze cut off his nose and ears and ripped away his genitals, to feed raw to the dogs. Still full of rage, they chopped his hands and feet off. Then they washed their own, and they went back inside.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]

Then they brought out Melanthios, ripped out his genitals and fed them to the dogs, and cut off all his extremities. That done, they washed off their hands and feet, and went back in. The work was done.
[tr. Green (2018)]

Then they brought Melanthius out through the doorway
into the yard. With pitiless bronze they sliced off
his nose and ears, then ripped off his cock and balls
as raw meat for dogs to eat, and in their fury
hacked off his hands and feet. After they’d done that,
they washed their hands and feet and went inside the house,
returning to Odysseus. Their work was finished.
[tr. Johnston (2019), l. 586ff]

SENTINEL:
My liege, I cannot say that from very haste I come panting for breath, having stept out with nimble paces. Troth: I have had many half-way houses of cogitation, wheeling about after every fresh start as though I would return. In fact, my soul often addressed me with some such tale as this: Why goest, simpleton, where to be come is to be punished?" then again: "What! wilt not away, poor wretch? and if Kreon shall learn these tidings from some one else, how then wilt thou escape the penalty?" While thus my mind revolved, the speed I made was tardy in its swiftness: and so a short road is made long.
[tr. Donaldson (1848)]

GUARD:
My lord, I will not make pretense to pant
And puff as some light-footed messenger.
In sooth my soul beneath its pack of thought
Made many a halt and turned and turned again;
For conscience plied her spur and curb by turns.
"Why hurry headlong to thy fate, poor fool?"
She whispered. Then again, "If Creon learn
This from another, thou wilt rue it worse."
Thus leisurely I hastened on my road;
Much thought extends a furlong to a league.
[tr. Storr (1859)]

WATCHMAN:
My lord, I am out of breath, but not with speed.
I will not say my foot was fleet. My thoughts
Cried halt unto me ever as I came
And wheeled me to return. My mind discoursed
Most volubly within my breast, and said--
Fond wretch! why go where thou wilt find thy bane?
Unhappy wight! say, wilt thou bide aloof?
Then if the king shall hear this from another,
How shalt thou 'scape for 't? Winding thus about
I hasted, but I could not speed, and so
Made a long journey of a little way.
[tr. Campbell (1873)]

GUARD:
My king, I will not say that I arrive breathless because of speed, or from the action of a swift foot. For often I brought myself to a stop because of my thoughts, and wheeled round in my path to return. My mind was telling me many things: “Fool, why do you go to where your arrival will mean your punishment?” “Idiot, are you dallying again? If Creon learns it from another, must you not suffer for it?” So debating, I made my way unhurriedly, slow, and thus a short road was made long.
[tr. Jebb (1891)]

MESSENGER:
O King, I cannot boast that, hither sent,
I came with speed, for oft my troubled thoughts
Have driven me back; oft to myself I said,
Why dost thou seek destruction?
With doubts like these oppressed, slowly I came,
And the short way seemed like a tedious journey.
[tr. Werner (1892)]

GUARD:
My liege, I will not say that I come breathless from speed, or that I have plied a nimble foot; for often did my thoughts make me pause, and wheel round in my path, to return. My mind was holding large discourse with me; "Fool, why goest thou to thy certain doom?" "Wretch, tarrying again? And if Creon hears this from another, must not thou smart for it?" So debating, I went on my way with lagging steps, and thus a short road was made long.
[tr. Jebb (1917)]

SENTRY:
I'll not say that I'm out of breath from running, King, because every time I stopped to think about what I have to tell you, I felt like going back. And all the time a voice kept saying, "You fool, don't you know you're walking straight into trouble?"; and then another voice: "Yes, but if you let somebody else get the news to Creon first, it will be even worse than that for you!"
[tr. Fitts/Fitzgerald (1939)]

SENTRY:
My lord: if I am out of breath, it is not from haste.
I have not been running. On the contrary, many a time
I stopped to think and loitered on the way,
Saying to myself “Why hurry to your doom,
Poor fool?” and then I said, “Hurry, you fool.
If Creon hears this from another man,
Your head’s as good as off.” So here I am,
As quick as my unwilling haste could bring me;
In no great hurry, in fact.
[tr. Watling (1947), l. 183ff]

GUARD:
Lord, I can't claim that I am out of breath
from rushing here with light and hasty step,
for I had many haltings in my thought
making me double back upon my road.
My mind kept saying many things to me:
"Why go where you will surely pay the price?"
"Fool, are you halting? And if Creon learns
from someone else, how shall you not be hurt?"
Turning this over, on I dilly-dallied.
And so a short trip turns itself to long.
[tr. Wyckoff (1954)]

GUARD:
My lord: I cannot say that I am come
All out of breath with running. More than once
I stopped and thought and turned round in my path
And started to go back. My mind had much
To say to me. One time it said "You fool!
Why do you go to certain punishment?"
Another time "What? Standing still, you wretch?
You'll smart for it, if Creon comes to hear
From someone else." And so I went along
Debating with myself, not swift nor sure.
This way, a short road soon becomes a long one.
[tr. Kitto (1962)]

SENTRY:
My lord,
I can't say I'm winded from running, or set out
with any spring in my legs either -- no sir,
I was lost in thought, and it made me stop, often,
dead in my tracks, wheeling, turning back,
and all the time a voice inside me muttering,
"Idiot, why? You're going straight to your death."
Then muttering, "Stopped again, poor fool?
If somebody gets the news to Creon first,
what's to save your neck?" And so,
mulling it over, on I trudged, dragging my feet,
you can make a short road take forever ...
[tr. Fagles (1982), l. 248ff]

WATCHMAN:
Lord, I cannot say that I arrive breathless
from quickly lifting nimble feet.
In fact, I stopped many times to think,
whirling around on the roads to turn back.
My spirit kept talking to me and saying:
“Poor fool, why are you going to a place where
you will pay the penalty when you arrive? Wretch, are you
dawdling along again? If Creon learns about this
from someone else, how then will you not feel pain?”
As I rolled around such thoughts, I was gradually and
slowly completing the journey, and so a short road
became a long one.
[tr. Tyrell/Bennett (2002)]

GUARD: My King, I can’t really say that I’ve lost my breath by running my feet to the ground so as to get here as quickly as I could! No, I tarried. God knows I’ve stopped myself often enough, on the way here and I’ve almost turned back many times.

My soul, you see, was talking to me all the while and all the while it kept changing its mind: “poor man,” it would say one minute, “Why are you rushing to your suffering?” Or again, “Stupid man,” it would say, “why are you hanging about like this? What if the king hears it from someone else? What a mess you’d get yourself into then!”

Stuff like that was spinning about in my head and it made this small road so much longer!

[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

GUARD:
My lord, I can’t say I’ve come out of breath
by running here, making my feet move fast.
Many times I stopped to think things over --
and then I’d turn around, retrace my steps.
My mind was saying many things to me,
“You fool, why go to where you know for sure
your punishment awaits?” -- “And now, poor man,
why are you hesitating yet again?
If Creon finds this out from someone else,
how will you escape being hurt?” Such matters
kept my mind preoccupied. And so I went,
slowly and reluctantly, and thus made
a short road turn into a lengthy one.
[tr. Johnston (2005), l. 256ff]

GUARD:
My lord, I will not say that I come breathless
from rushing or quickly moving my feet,
for often my thoughts stopped me in my place,
and I'd wheel around on the road back where I came.
My heart kept talking to me, telling me,
"Poor fool, why are you going where you're sure
to be punished?" "Idiot, you stopping
again? If Creon hears it from someone else,
then you'll really pay for it!" Twisting like this
I made my way, the opposite of hate,
and thus a short road became a long one.
[tr. Thomas (2005), l. 226ff]

• "O men unwise, / They perish’d by their own impieties!" [tr. Chapman (1616)]
• "They lost themselves by their own insolence." [tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 9]
• "They perish’d self-destroy’d / By their own fault." [tr. Cowper (1792)]
• "For they were slain in their own foolishness." [tr. Worsley (1861), st. 2]
• "Destin'd as they were / In their mad arrogance to perish; fools!" [tr. Musgrave (1869)]
• "For they in their own wilful folly perished." [tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]
• "For through the blindness of their own hearts they perished." [tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]
• "They died of their own souls' folly." [tr. Morris (1887)]
• "For through their own perversity they perished." [tr. Palmer (1891)]
• "For they perished through their own sheer folly." [tr. Butler (1898)]
• "For they perished through their own deeds of sheer recklessness." [tr. Butler (1898), rev. Kim/McCray/Nagy/Power (2018)]
• "For through their own blind folly they perished." [tr. Murray (1919)]
• "For their own recklessness destroyed them all." [tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]
• "They were destroyed by their own wild recklessness, / fools." [tr. Lattimore (1965)]
• "Fools, they foiled themselves." [tr. Mendelbaum (1990)]
• "By their own mad recklessness they were brought to destruction, childish fools." [tr. Merrill (2002)]
• "It was their own transgression that brought them to their doom." [tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]
• "It was through their own blind recklessness that they perished, / the fools." [tr. Green (2018)]
• "They all died from their own stupidity, the fools." [tr. Johnston (2019)]

Wisdom is first of the gifts of good fortune:
'Tis a duty, to be sure, the rites of the Gods
Duly to honor: but words without measure, the
Fruit of vain-glory, in woes without number their
Recompense finding,
Have lesson'd the agéd in wisdom.
[tr. Donaldson (1848)]

Of happiness the chiefest part
Is a wise heart:
And to defraud the gods in aught
With peril's fraught.
Swelling words of high-flown might
Mightily the gods do smite.
Chastisement for errors past
Wisdom brings to age at last.
[tr. Storr (1859)]

Wise conduct hath command of happiness
Before all else, and piety to Heaven
Must be preserved. High boastings of the proud
Bring sorrow to the height to punish pride: --
A lesson men shall learn when they are old.
[tr. Campbell (1873)]

Wisdom is provided as the chief part of happiness, and our dealings with the gods must be in no way unholy. The great words of arrogant men have to make repayment with great blows, and in old age teach wisdom.
[tr. Jebb (1891)]

Wisdom alone is man's true happiness.
We are not to dispute the will of heaven;
For ever are the boastings of the proud
By the just gods repaid, and man at last
Is taught to fear their anger and be wise.
[tr. Werner (1892)]

Wisdom is the supreme part of happiness; and reverence towards the gods must be inviolate. Great words of prideful men are ever punished with great blows, and, in old age, teach the chastened to be wise.
[tr. Jebb (1917)]

There is no happiness where there is no wisdom;
No wisdom but in submission to the gods.
Big words are always punished
And proud men in old age learn to be wise.
[tr. Fitts/Fitzgerald (1939), l. 1039ff]

Of happiness the crown
And chiefest part
Is wisdom, and to hold
The gods in awe.
This is the law
That, seeing the stricken heart
Of pride brought down,
We learn when we are old.
[tr. Watling (1947), Exodos, l. 1027ff]

Our happiness depends
on wisdom all the way.
The gods must have their due.
Great words by men of pride
bring greater blows upon them.
So wisdom comes to the old.
[tr. Wyckoff (1954)]

Of happiness, far the greatest part is wisdom,
and reverence towards the gods.
Proud words of arrogant man, in the end,
Meet punishment, great as his pride was great,
Till at last he is schooled in wisdom.
[tr. Kitto (1962)]

Wisdom is supreme for a blessed life,
And reference for the gods
Must never cease. Great words, sprung from arrogance.
Are punished by great blows.
So it is one learns, in old age, to be wise.
[tr. Woodruff (2001)]

By far is having sense the first part
of happiness. One must not act impiously toward
what pertains to gods. Big words
of boasting men,
paid for by big blows,
teach having sense in old age.
[tr. Tyrell/Bennett (2002)]

The most important thing in man’s happiness is good judgement and he must not treat with disdain the works of the gods.
The arrogant pay for their big proud words with great downfalls and it’s only then, in their old age that they gain wisdom!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

The most important part of true success
is wisdom -- not to act impiously
towards the gods, for boasts of arrogant men
bring on great blows of punishment --
so in old age men can discover wisdom.
[tr. Johnston (2005)]

Knowledge truly is by far the most important part of happiness, but one must neglect nothing that the gods demand. Great words of the over-proud balanced by great falls taught us knowledge in our old age.
[tr. Thomas (2005)]

Where a man sows, there he reaps.
[JB (1966)]

You will reap exactly what you plant.
[GNT (1976)]

Whatever someone sows, that is what he will reap.
[NJB (1985)]

A person will harvest what they plant.
[CEB (2011)]

For you reap whatever you sow.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

For 'tis the common interest of mankind.
Of every individual, every state.
That he who hath transgress'd should suffer ill.
And Fortune crown the efforts of the virtuous.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

For this is a general principle among all, both individuals in private and states,
That the wicked man should feel vengeance, but the good man enjoy prosperity.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]

For the general good
Of individuals and of states requires
That vengeance overtake th’ unrighteous deed,
And virtue triumph in her just reward.
[ed. Ramage (1864)]

For all men's weal is this, --
Each several man's, and for the state, -- that ill
Betide the bad, prosperity the good.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

For this is the interest alike of citizen and state, that the wrong-doer be punished and the good man prosper.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]

The common interests
of states and individuals alike demand
that good and evil receive their just rewards.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]

Every man -- every slave -- shares one wish. May we each get what we deserve.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]

I think the wish is common among men, as individuals and citizens, that bad men should suffer and good men thrive.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]

It is everyone’s conviction, individually and collectively as a city, that the evil man suffers and the good man rejoices.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]

It’s in the interests of both
states and individuals that evil suffers evil
and good fares well.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]

In feeling and anger originate acts of revenge. Now punishment and revenge differ; for punishment is inflicted for the sake of him that suffers it; but revenge for the sake of him that deals it, in order that he may be satisfied.
[Source (1847)]

Through the medium of anger and excited feeling arise acts of vengeance. Now, between revenge and punishment there is a difference; for punishment is for the sake of the sufferer, but revenge for that of the person inflicting it, in order that he may be satiated.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

The acts done through passion and anger are acts of retribution. There is a difference between retribution and chastisement; chastisement being inflicted for the sake of the patient, retribution for the satisfaction of the agent.
[tr. Jebb (1873)]

Passion and anger are the causes of acts of revenge. But there is a difference between revenge and punishment; the latter is inflicted in the interest of the sufferer, the former in the interest of him who inflicts it, that he may obtain satisfaction.
[tr. Freese (1926)]

Passion and anger are responsible for acts of retaliation. Retaliation and punishment are different: one punishes for the sake of the person being punished, but one retaliates for one's own sake, to obtain satisfaction.
[tr. Bartlett (2019)]

Full text.

[Talking and writing] plainly are powerless to guide the mass of men to Virtue and goodness; because it is not their nature to be amenable to a sense of shame but only to fear; nor to abstain from what is low and mean because it is disgraceful to do it but because of the punishment attached to it
[tr. Chase (1847), ch. 8]

But, for most men, mere precept is powerless to dispose them to noble conduct. For their nature is such, that they are not ruled by a proper sense of shame, but only by fear, and do not abstain from vice because of the disgrace which attaches to it, but because of the punishment which its practice involves.
[tr. Williams (1869)]

[Theories] are impotent to inspire the mass of men to chivalrous action; for it is not the nature of such men to obey honour but terror, nor to abstain from evil for fear of disgrace but for fear of punishment.
[tr. Welldon (1892)]

Yet [theories] are powerless to turn the mass of men to goodness. For the generality of men are naturally apt to be swayed by fear rather than by reverence, and to refrain from evil rather because of the punishment that it brings than because of its own foulness.
[tr. Peters (1893)]

[Arguments] are not able to encourage the many to nobility and goodness. For these do not by nature obey the sense of shame, but only fear, and do not abstain from bad acts because of their baseness but through fear of punishment.
[tr. Ross (1908)]

Yet [theories] are powerless to stimulate the mass of mankind to moral nobility. For it is the nature of the many to be amenable to fear but not to a sense of honor, and to abstain from evil not because of its baseness but because of the penalties it entails.
[tr. Rackham (1934)]

[Arguments are] unable to encourage ordinary people toward noble-goodness. For ordinary people naturally obey not shame but fear and abstain from base things not because of their shamefulness but because of the sanctions involved.
[tr. Reeve (1948)]

[Arguments] cannot exhort ordinary men to do good and noble deeds, for it is the nature of these men to obey not a sense of shame but fear, and to abstain from what is bad not because this is disgraceful but because of the penalties which they would receive.
[tr. Apostle (1975)]

[Discourses] are incapable of impelling the masses toward human perfection. For it is the nature of the many to be ruled by fear rather than by shame, and to refrain from evil not because of the disgrace but because of the punishments.
[tr. Thomson/Tredennick (1976)]

But [arguments] seem unable to turn the many toward being fine and good. For the many naturally obey fear, not shame; they avoid what is base because of the penalties, not because it is disgraceful.
[tr. Irwin/Fine (1995)]

No man is so exquisitely honest or upright in living, but brings all his actions and thoughts within compasse and danger of the lawes; and that tenne times in his life might not lawfully be hanged.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

There is no so good Man, that so squares all his Thoughts and Actions to the Laws, that he is not Faulty enough to deserve Hanging ten Times in his Life.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

There is no so good man, who so squares all his thoughts and actions to the laws, that he is not faulty enough to deserve hanging ten times in his life.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

There does not exist a man of such worth that, were he to lay open to the scrutiny of the laws all his actions and thoughts, he would not deserve hanging ten times in his life.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

No man is so moral but that, if he submitted his deeds and thoughts to cross-examination by the laws, he would be found worthy of hanging on ten occasions in his lifetime.
[tr. Screech (1987)]

If you pursue evil with pleasure, the pleasure passes away and the evil remains. If you pursue good with labor, the labor passes away but the good remains.

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

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

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

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

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

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