Whoever treats you warmly, he will also compliment the people he hates in his heart. What do you want, you wicked dogs? You neither like peace nor war; war will scare you, and peace will make you arrogant. If anyone trusts you, he will find that the lion he is looking for is nothing but a bunch of hares, and the fox he is looking for is no more than a bunch of geese; you are more unreliable than coal fire on ice or hail spots in the sun. Your virtue is to honor the criminal prisoner and curse the criminal officer who enforces the law. Whoever has made merits should be hated by you; your love is like the taste of a patient, and you only love food that is enough to aggravate his illness. If anyone trusts in your favor, it is equivalent to swimming with lead-made fins and cutting down oak trees with rushes. Damn it! Believe you? You have to change your heart every minute, and you will praise the people you hated just now and scold the people you praised just now. You are clamoring everywhere in the city, attacking the noble Senate, what is going on? If they hadn't helped the gods to restrain you and made you a little afraid, you would have eaten each other a long time ago. What is their purpose?
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