I often think of the trees, and the rivers that flow calmly. Also of the wind which turns about each and every way of its choosing. The earth beneath my feet, and the rain that blesses the earth. These things and every other that is considered good upon the earth. And I also think of man, the primary inhabitant of earth, who dwells in its highest estate, yet acts as a beast and is quick to destroy all he shepherds. For what value is the shepherd that poisons his flock? More grievous is that he poisons himself. And if a king has no value, what of his kingdom and all that are in it? What purpose have they? Would it not be better to have no ruler at all than to be broken by a wicked scepter? It then behooves me that he is brought down. His estate destroyed. Let the sun that lights his day go dark, and the star that guides him fall from the north. For if man acts as a beast, he should become one, and his actions should quicken his fall. For a vial of poison soils the whole batch, and how should one separate drop from drop in a pond? Is it not grace if it dries up? Let it be a blessing of any living thing to die rather than to live a soiled life.