Chapter 20

A reckless counsellor is wine, strong drink a riotous friend; the man who is swayed by these, call not wise.

Beware of the king’s power, as of lion roaring; challenge it, and thy life is forfeit.

Well may he boast, that keeps clear of strife; every fool will be quarrelling.

Too cold to plough, says Sloth; vainly, when harvest comes, he will go a-begging.

Prudent counsel is a well buried deep in man’s heart; but the wise know how to draw from it.

Many there are that pass for kindly souls, but a faithful friend is hard to come by.

An upright man that goes armed with honest intent, leaves a blessing to his children.

Let a king rule justly, wrong-doing shall be winnowed away under his scrutiny.

Who dares to boast, My heart is unsullied now, I have cleansed myself of every fault?

One balance for getting and one for giving, one yard-wand for selling and one for buying, the Lord will not endure.

Watch a boy even at his play, thou canst tell whether his heart is pure and true.

The ear that listens, the watchful eye, are both of the Lord’s fashioning.

Love not thy sleep, or poverty will overtake thee unawares; the open eye means a full belly.

A poor thing, says the buyer, a poor thing! Then off he goes, and boasts of it.

Gold thou mayst have in abundance, and jewels a many, but the finest ware of all is wise speech.

Does a man go bail for a stranger? Without more ado, take his garment from him; who trusts without knowledge, forfeits the pledge.

Ill-gotten wealth is bread most appetizing, that will yet turn to grit in the mouth.

Counsel is the sure buttress of determination; wars must ever be won by statecraft.

With the whisperer, that goes about open-mouthed on his errand of gossip, never throw in thy lot.

In deepest night the lamp of his hopes shall be quenched, that turns upon father or mother with a curse.

The inheritance too soon come by, too late thou shalt find unblessed.

Never promise thyself vengeance; await the Lord’s hour, and redress shall be thine.

One weight for getting and one for giving, the Lord cannot endure; a false balance is great wrong.

Every step man takes is of the Lord’s choosing; and thou, poor mortal, wouldst thou plot out thy path?

He is trapped, that consecrates his gift in haste;1 the vow made, repentance comes too late.

Fan and flail a wise king has for the ill-doer.

Man’s spirit is a lamp the Lord gives, to search out the hidden corners of his being.

What is a king’s best body-guard? Mercy and faithfulness; on mercy his throne rests.

Youth has strong arms to boast of, old age white hairs for a crown.

Hurts that bruise cruelly, chastisement felt deep within, are sin’s best remedy.