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Voluptas aerumnosa.

Wretched delight

Qui nimis exercet venatus, ac sine fine
Haurit opes patrias, prodigit inque canes:
Tantus amor vani, tantus furor usque recursat,
Induat ut celeris cornua bina ferae.
Accidit Actaeon tibi, qui conutus ab ortu,
canibus propriis dilaceratus eras.
Qum multos hodie, quos pascit odora canum vis,
Venandi studium conficit, atque vorat.
Seria ne ludis postponas, commoda damnis,
Quod superest rerum sic ut egenus habe.
Saepe etiam propria qui interdum uxore relicta
Deperit externas corniger ista luit.

He who cultivates hunting too much and endlessly consumes the family riches, and squanders it on his dogs; so much love of emptiness, such rage keeps coming back, that he puts on the double horn of the quick wild beast. This happened to you, Actaeon, who, from the moment that you were horned, were torn to pieces by your own dogs. How many, whom the keen-scented power of the dogs nurtures, are killed and devoured by the eagerness for hunting today. Do not treat serious matters as inferior to playful affairs, nor benefits as inferior to losses. Consider your extra possessions as if you were needy. Often even now, he who occasionally abandons his own wife and desparately loves other women, pays for this as a horn-bearer.

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