The labour of fools wearieth every one of them, for he knoweth not how to go to the city.
Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a boy, and thy princes feast in the morning!
Happy art thou, O land, when thy king is a free man, and thy princes eat in due season, in strength, and not in drunkenness!
By slothfulness the rafters sink in; and through idleness of the hands the house leaketh.
A feast is made for laughter, and wine maketh glad the life; and money answereth all things.
Curse not the king, no, not in thy thought, and curse not the rich in thy bedchamber; for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter.