Or thou’lt remain, claylike, within the earth at length.
Dost hunger? What art thou, then, but a dog?
Fierce, ill-affected, raging; lusts thy vitals clog!
And when with food thou’rt filled, polluted straight becomest.
Thou losest strength and sense; mere stock, thou sleep welcomest.635
So, being doglike or a stock, senseless, impure,
How canst thou progress make in path of virtue, sure?
Whatever ’tis thou huntest, dog thou art, in sooth.
Feed not, then, thus, the dog of lust’s voracious tooth.
When dogs are satisfied, obedience they forswear;