O you who are the little flower of Juventian race, not only of these now living,
but of those that were before and also of those that will be in the coming
years, I'd rather that you had given the wealth of Midas to that man who owns
neither a slave nor coffer, than that you should suffer yourself to be loved by
him. "What?" you ask. "Isn't he a fine looking man?" He is; but this fine
looking man has neither a slave nor coffer. Slight and make light of this as you
please: nevertheless, he has neither a slave nor coffer.
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