How great an ill is jealousy! How sickening a sore! It breaketh the very bones of man, and destroyeth his body soon. Hatred may be kept from view for ever and for aye; but jeaslousy is discerned at once; to all men it is clear.

Thou mayest succeed in pleasing all save him who envieth thee thy riches; for his heart will never be content, till thou hast lost thy happiness and wealth.

Thou canst not find a sinner greater than the man who hateth one to whom honours have come; for continually upon his Creator he poureth forth his wrath, chafed at what He hath willed as the other man's lot.

On the day thou callest a fool to thy help, thou dost invite him to destroy thee root and branch; for were it not that there are trees in the forest, the axe which is seized by the hand of man would indeed have nothing to hew.

A cure there is for every form of hate, save for the hate that springeth from envy.

The envious one will not have length of days, since he hath neither hope nor expectation; he will grieve, and his grief will be unending, if he find that he can do no further harm unto others.

Envy not one blessed all the days of his life with the enjoyment of pleasure, when thou seest him happy and full of delight, whilst thou art ever full of care and sorrow.

How foolish the spite, the ill-will how petty! Three classes there are whom men envy the most: the men of their craft, their relatives, and their friends, who outstrip them in honour and greatness.

Be thou not envious, and thou shalt rise, and honour¹ =15, the number of lines in this section.] gain; thou shalt rejoice and prosper.

footnotes: ¹ ["Honour"