Dissipation; in the world of fools.
The kingly man stands firm, divides and rules.

One needs a horse in this world's mob-mellay;
One needs a refuge, a secure shrewd plan.
We must have knocks, nor mind them, in the fray.
Scatter the mob, then pick the choice array.
Command the mob, and fill their bellies, man!
Good end forgets how badly it began.

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