Where Ate fell, are something mixed with bitter.
But give me not to virtue suddenly,
Lest she disdain the greening, unripe fruit,
And from her sun I do forever fall.
Dion. Heed then his counsel, Dionysius.
A ruler is the state's bountificer,—
High warden at the gates of happy good,—
And when he turns unto himself the stream
That should make fair his country, he is damned
As oft a robber as his subjects count.