Je ne me fîerai point à des propos si doux, Qu'un peu de ses faveurs, après quoi je soupire. Ne vienne m'assurer tout ce qu'ils m'ont pu dire. - Molière

Those who have greatest cause for guilt and shame
Are quickest to besmirch a neighbour's name.
When there's a chance for libel, they never miss it;
When something can be made to seem illicit
They're off at once to spread the joyous news,
Adding to fact what fantasies they choose.
By talking up their neighbour's indiscretions
They seek to camouflage their own transgressions,
Hoping that other's innocent affairs
Will lend camouflage to theirs,
Or that their own black guilt will come to seem
Part of a gerenal shady color-sheme

Its as if you think you'd never find
Reason and the Sacred intertwined

CLEANTE. Spoke like a true young man. Now just calm down, And moderate your towering tantrums, will you? We live in such an age, with such a king, That violence can not advance our cause.