Nay our own Philosophers, do they not set their Names to those very Books which they write upon contemning Glory?
[tr. Wase (1643)]

What did our philosophers mean, when they put their names to those very books they wrote on the contempt of glory?
[tr. Main (1824)]

What of our philosophers? Do they not install their names in front of the very books where they inculcate the contempt of glory?
[tr. Otis (1839)]

What do our philosophers think on the subject? do not they put their names to those very books which they write on the contempt of glory?
[tr. Yonge (1853)]

What do our philosophers have in mind? Do they not inscribe their names in the very books that they write about the contempt of fame?
[tr. Peabody (1886)]

What! Do not our philosophers inscribe their names upon those very books which they write about despising glory?
[tr. Black (1889)]

What shall we say of our philosophers? Do they not put their names on the title-page of the very books which they write in deprecation of vainglory?
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]

Then there are our philosophers. Do they not inscribe their names on the very books they write on the subject of despising fame?
[tr. Davie (2017)]

Let us disregard present gains, let us care only for the reputation we shall have with posterity; let us hope for that which we desire to have, but let us bear what shall have befallen us; lastly, let us reflect that the bodies of brave heroes and great men are mortal, but the emotions of the soul and the glory of their merits eternal.
[tr. Hickie (1888)]

Let us disregard present rewards, and fix our eyes on the glory which we shall receive from posterity. Let us think that the most desirable conduct, which is the most upright; let us hope for whatever we choose, but bear whatever befalls us, let us consider, lastly, that the bodies of brave men and great citizens are mortal, but that the impulses of the mind and the glory of virtue are everlasting.
[tr. Yonge (1891)]

Neglecting present gain, let us be in bondage to posterity; let us count best what is right; hoping to achieve our ends, let us nevertheless bear what may befall us; let us remember that the body of the great and brave is mortal, but the fame of their spirit and their virtues is eternal.
[tr. Rogers/Harley (1928)]

Let us disregard present advantages, let us work for glory in years to come; let us regard that as best which is most truly good ; let us hope for our wishes, but let us bear what comes. Lastly, let us remember, that if the body of a brave and great man is mortal, yet the impulses of the mind and the glory of virtue are eternal.
[tr. Gardner (Loeb) (1958)]

Short is the life which nature has given us: but the memory of a life nobly laid down is eternal.
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]

A brief life has been allotted to us by nature; but the memory of a well-spent life is imperishable.
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

Brief is the life given us by nature; but the memory of life nobly resigned is everlasting.
[tr. Ker (Loeb) (1926)]

The reputation and worth of a man consisteth in his heart and will: therein consists true honour: Constancie is valour, not of armes and legs, but of minde and courage: it consisteth not in the spirit and courage of our horse, nor of our armes, but in ours.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

The estimate and value of a man consist in the heart and in the will: there his true honour lies. Valour is stability, not of legs and arms, but of the courage and the soul; it does not lie in the goodness of our horse or our arms but in our own.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

The estimation and value of a man consist in the heart and the will; and therein lies his true honour. Valour is the stability, not of legs and arms, but of courage and the mind; it does not consist in the goodness of our horse, or our armour, but in ourselves.
[tr. Friswell (1868)]

The estimate and value of a man consist in the heart and in the will: there his true honor lies. Valor is stability, not of legs and arms, but of the courage and the soul; it does not lie in the goodness of our horse or our arms: but in our own.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

A man's estimation and value depend on his heart and his will; that is where his true honour lives; valour is strength, not of arms and legs, but of the mind and the soul; it does not depend upon the worth of our horse or of our armour, but upon our own.
[tr. Ives (1925), 1.31]

The worth and value of a man is in his heart and his will; there lies his real honor. Valor is the strength, not of legs and arms, but of heart and soul; it consists not in the worth of our horse or our weapons, but in our own.
[tr. Frame (1943), 1.31]

A man’s value and reputation depend on his heart and his resolution; there his true honour lies. Valour is strength, not of leg or arm, but of the heart and soul; it lies not in the goodness of our horse or our weapons, but in our own.
[tr. Cohen (1958), 1.31]

A man's value and worth are to be found in his heart and will: that is where his true honor lies. Valor is strength not of legs and arms but of heart and mind; it is not a matter of our horse's or our weapons' value, but of our own.
[tr. Atkinson/Sices (2012)]

The time when thou shalt have forgotten all things, is at hand. And that time also is at hand, when thou thyself shalt be forgotten by all.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), 7.16]

'Twill not be long before you will have forgotten all the World; and in a little time, to be even, all the World will forget you too.
[tr. Collier (1701)]

The time approaches when you shall forget all things, and be forgotten by all.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

The time is speedily approaching, when you will have forgotten every one, and every one will have forgotten you.
[tr. Graves (1792), 7.19]

Near is thy forgetfulness of all things; and near the forgetfulness of thee by all.
[tr. Long (1862)]

It will not be long before you will have forgotten all the world, and in a little time all the world will forget you too.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]

Soon you will have forgotten all; soon all will have forgotten you.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

The time is at hand when you shall forget all things, and when all shall forget you.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

A little while and thou wilt have forgotten everything, a little while and everything will have forgotten thee.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

Near at hand is your forgetting all; near, too, all forgetting you.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

Close is the time when you will forget all things; and close, too, thie time when all will forget you.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]

Close to forgetting it all, close to being forgotten.
[tr. Hays (2003)]

Soon you will have forgotten all things: soon all things will have forgotten you.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

Close is the time when you will forget all things; and close, too, the time when all will forget you.
[tr. Hard (2011 ed.)]

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]

But amid all the many evils which he has branded on the state, this good result there is, that the Roman people has now learned how far each man deserves its confidence, to whom it may entrust itself, of whom it should beware.
[tr. King (1877)]

But from the many evils which by him have been burned into the republic, there is still this good, that the Roman people has now learned how much to believe every one, to whom to trust itself, and against whom to guard.
[tr. Yonge (1903)]

But out of the many evils which Caesar inflicted on our country, there has come one good thing: the Roman people have now learned how far they can trust each person, whom they can rely on, and whom they should beware of.
[tr. Berry (2006)]

But, from the many evils which he branded on the Republic, this much that was good still came about: that the Roman people learnt how much to trust anyone, to whom they could entrust themselves and against whom they should be on their guard.
[tr. McElduff (2011)]

The engineer has certain disadvantages compared to the other professions. His works are out in the open where all men can see them. He cannot deny he did it. The doctors’ mistakes are buried in the grave. The voters forget when the politician changes the alphabetical names of his failing projects. The trees and ivy may cover the architects’ failures. The lawyers can blame the Judge or the Jury. Unlike the clergyman, the engineer cannot blame his failures on the devil.
Moreover, if his works do not work, he is damned.

The engineer’s work is out in the open where all men can see it. If he makes a mistake, he cannot, like the doctor, bury it in a grave. He cannot, like the architect, obscure it by trees and ivy. He cannot, like the lawyer, blame it on the judge or jury. He cannot, like the politician, claim his constituents demanded it. Nor can he, like the public official, change the name of it and hope the voters will forget. Unlike the clergyman, he cannot blame it on the devil. Worse still, if his works do not work, he is damned.

The punishment of bad princes is to be thought worse than they are.
[tr. Calvert (1866), ch. 12]

The punishment of bad princes is to be thought worse than they really are.
[tr. Attwell (1896), ¶ 195]

Yet whatever dishonourable epithets may be launched against him everywhere, nobody defends his wretched honour. Call him a rogue, an infamous wretch, a confounded scoundrel if you like, all the world will say "yea," and no one contradicts you. But for all that, his bowing and scraping are welcome everywhere; he is received, smiled upon, and wriggles himself into all kinds of society; and, if any appointment is to be secured by intriguing, he will carry the day over a man of the greatest worth.
[tr. Van Laun (1878)]

Whatever shameful titles people give him everywhere, his wretched honour hears no one call him infamous knave and cursed villain; everybody agrees to it, and no one contradicts it. In the meanwhile his hypocritical smile is everywhere welcome -- he is entertained, well received, and he insinuates himself into all companies; and if there is any position to be gained by canvassing for it, he will carry it against men of the greatest worth.
[tr. Mathew (1890)]

No cries of "shame" can make his miserable honor hear them. Call him a knave, a scoundrel, a damned villain, all the world agrees, and no man contradicts you; but -- he is welcomed everywhere; wherever he may worm himself he's greeted; men smile upon him; and if there's a canvass to be made, a place to be intrigued for, you will see him get the better of honest men.
[tr. Wormeley (1894)]

Yet whatever insulting names are given him by all, no one is seen on the side of his wretched honour; call him a villain, a cursed and infamous scoundrel: all the world will agree with you, and no one will contradict you. But, for all that, his hypocritical countenance is welcomed by all; he is received and smiled upon and he worms himself in everywhere. If any preferment is to be secured by intrigue, he will gain it over the heads of the worthiest.
[tr. Waller (1903)]

Whatever shameful names you heap upon him,
There's no one to defend his wretched honour;
Call him a cheat, a rogue, a cursed rascal,
And every one agrees, none contradicts you.
But yet his grinning face is always welcomed;
He worms in everywhere, he’s greeted, smiled on;
And if there is preferment to compete for,
Intrigue will win it for him, from the worthiest.
[tr. Page (1913)]

Whatever eminence he may have gained,
There's no one to respect his reputation.
Call him an infamous swindler, filthy sneak,
You'll hear no contradiction; all agree.
And yet his fawning face is widely welcomed,
He crawls in everywhere, he is accepted;
And if intrigue can gain some precedence,
You see him win, over the worthiest man.
[tr. Bishop (1957)]

Whatever notoriety he's won,
Such honor lacks support from anyone;
Call him a cheat, knave, curséd rogue to boot,
Everyone will agree, no one refute.
Yet everywhere his false smile seems to pay:
Everywhere welcomed, hailed, he worms his way
And if by pulling strings he stands to gain
Some honor, decent men compete in vain.
[tr. Frame (1967)]

Be it true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

What is said of men, whether it be true or false, often occupies as much space in their life, and especially in their destiny, as what they do.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

True or false, that which is said of men often occupies as important a place in their lives, and above all in their destinies, as that which they do.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

What is reported of men, whether it be true or false, may play as large a part in their lives, and above all in their destiny, as the things they do.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

Whether true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence on their lives, and particularly on their destinies, as what they do.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

If 'tis a Happiness to be nobly descended, 'tis no less to have so much Merit, that no body inquires whether we are so or no.
[Curll ed. (1713)]

If it is a Happiness to be nobly Descended it is not a less to have so much Merit, that no body enquires whether we are so or no.
[Browne ed. (1752)]

If it be a happiness to be of noble parentage, it is no less so to possess so much merit that nobody inquires whether we are noble or plebeian.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]

A well-born man is fortunate, but so is the man about whom people no longer ask, is he well-born?
[tr. Stewart (1970)]

LlAR. (a) One who pretends to be very good; (b) one who pretends to be very bad.
[A Book of Burlesques, "The Jazz Webster" (1924)]

Liar — (a) One who pretends to be very good; (b) one who pretends to be very bad.
[Chrestomathy, ch. 30 "Sententiae" (1949)]

Nature seems wisely to have provided that the Follies of Men shou'd pass away, but Books perpetuate them. A Fool ought to be satisfy'd with having teaz'd those who liv'd at the same Time with him: but he is for going further, and is resolved to plague the Generations to come he is resolv'd to make his Impertinence triumph over Oblivion, which he might have enjoy'd as well as his Grave: he will have Posterity know that such a one liv'd, and all future Ages be inform'd that he was a Fool.
[tr. Ozell (1736 ed.), Letter 64]

Nature seems to have provided, that the follies of men should be transient, but they by writing books render them permanent. A fool ought to content himself with having wearied those who lived with him: but he is for tormenting future generations; he is desirous that his folly should triumph over oblivion, which he ought to have enjoyed as well as his grave; he is desirous that posterity should be informed that he lived, and that it should be known for ever that he was a fool.
[tr. Floyd (1762)]

Nature has wisely provided that the follies of men should be ephemeral; but, unhappily, these very follies are immortalised in books. A fool ought to have been satisfied with boring all those who have lived with him; yet he insists on torturing future races; he is determined that his folly shall triumph over the oblivion in which he ought to have been able to find as much enjoyment as he does in his last slumber; he wishes posterity to know that he has lived, and remember forever that he was a fool.
[tr. Betts (1897)]

While nature seems wisely to have provided that the stupidities of men should be transient, books immortalize them. A fool should be content with boring everyone who has lived with him, but he further undertakes to torment future generations. He wants his folly to triumph over the oblivion which he should welcome like the sleep of the tomb; he wants to inform posterity that he has lived, and to have it forever remembered that he was a fool.
[tr. Healy (1964)]

Nature in her wisdom seems to have arranged for man's follies to be short-lived, and books render them immortal. A fool ought to be satisfied with having bored all his own contemporaries, but he also seeks to torment those as yet unborn; he wants his stupidity to triumph over oblivion, which he might, like the tomb, have enjoyed; but no, he wants posterity to be notified that he has lived, and he wants her to know, for all eternity, that he was an idiot.
[tr. Mauldon (2008), Letter 64]

Nature has so arranged things that the absurdities men say are passing things, but books give them immortal life. A fool ought to have been content to have annoyed those who live near him, but instead he wants the chance to torment future generations. He wants his absurdities to triumph over the complete oblivion that he really ought to have welcomed and enjoyed like a tomb. He wants posterity to be informed that he lived, and he wants it known for all time that he was a fool.
[tr. MacKenzie (2014), Letter 64]

Truly I have no reason to fear, least this Murderer of the Citizens being slain, any envy should rise against me for the future. But if never so much did hang over me, yet I was alwayes of this Judgment, to think Envy gotten by Vertue to be no Envy but Glory.
[tr. Wase (1671)]

I could have no reason to fear; that for the execution of a traitor and a parricide I should stand condemned by the voice of posterity. But let me add, were the severest censure to be the certain consequence, it has ever been my settled opinion, that reproach, when earned by virtue, is not reproach, but the truest glory.
[tr. Sydney (1795)]

Surely I had no cause to fear lest for slaying this parricidal murderer of the citizens any unpopularity should accrue to me with posterity. And if it did threaten me to ever so great a degree, yet I have always been of the disposition to think unpopularity earned by virtue and glory, not unpopularity.
[tr. Yonge (1856)]

Surely it was not to be dreaded by me, lest, if this parricide of the citizens were slain, any odium might redound for me to posterity. But if that impended over myself in particular, yet I have always been of this opinion, that I should consider the odium acquired by merit as glory and not as odium.
[tr. Mongan (1879)]

Certainly it was not to be feared to (by) me, lest any (thing) of unpopularity might redound to me unto posterity, this parricide of citizens being slain. But if it might impend (threaten) to me mostly (very much), yet I have been always with this mind, that I might think envy produced by virtue, glory, not envy.
[tr. Underwood (1885)]

Certainly it was not to be feared by me, lest any ill-will should redound to [affect] me for posterity, this parricide of citizens having been slain. But if this should threaten me very much, yet I have been always with [of] this mind, that I should think ill will produced by virtue, glory, not ill will.
[tr. Dewey (1916)]

Certainly I did not have to fear, lest with this parricide of citizens having been killed, anything of unpopularity might run over in posterity. And yet, if these were to threaten me especially, however, I have always been in this mind, so that I thought that unpopularity obtained by virtue is an honour, not unpopularity at all.
[IB Notes]

I have always been of the opinion that infamy earned by doing what is right is not infamy at all, but glory.
[E.g.]