These folk are all ridiculous asses
They are full of fire & empty inside like a drum
If you wish them to kiss your hands & feet
Acquire a good name for they are the slaves of fame.

P 306

All asses these people of ours, wellaway! are;
Loud-sounding and hollow, like kettledrums, théy are:
Wouldst thou have them the sole of thy feet kiss, good name get;
For the bondmen of hearsay the folk of the day are.

Th 274

These folks are sorry asses all the same,
Skins full of emptiness like drums, a name
Acquire, if you would have them kiss your foot.
For they are all the very slaves of fame.

Wh 227

These folk are asses, laden with conceit,
And glittering drums, that empty sounds repeat,
And humble slaves are they of name and fame,
Acquire a name, and, lo! they kiss thy feet.

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