One who is proud of ancestry is like a turnip; there is nothing good of him but that which is read more

One who is proud of ancestry is like a turnip; there is nothing good of him but that which is underground

D'Adam nous sommes tous enfants,
La prove en est connue,
Et que tous, nos premier parents
read more

D'Adam nous sommes tous enfants,
La prove en est connue,
Et que tous, nos premier parents
Ont mene la charrue.
Mais, las de cultiver enfin
La terre labouree
L'une a detele le matin,
L'autre l'apres-dinee.

It is disgraceful when the passers-by exclaim, "O ancient house!
alas, how unlike is thy present master to thy read more

It is disgraceful when the passers-by exclaim, "O ancient house!
alas, how unlike is thy present master to thy former one."
[Lat., Odiosum est enim, cum a praetereuntibus dicatur:--O domus
antiqua, heu, quam dispari dominare domino.]

Faith, I know nothing about it; I am my own ancestor.
[Fr., An, ma foi, je n'en sais rien; read more

Faith, I know nothing about it; I am my own ancestor.
[Fr., An, ma foi, je n'en sais rien; moi je suis mon ancetre.]

A degenerate nobleman, or one that is proud of his birth, is like
a turnip. There is nothing good read more

A degenerate nobleman, or one that is proud of his birth, is like
a turnip. There is nothing good of him but that which is
underground.

Whoever serves his country well has no need of ancestors.

Whoever serves his country well has no need of ancestors.

"My nobility," said he, "begins in me, but yours ends in you."
- Iphicrates,

"My nobility," said he, "begins in me, but yours ends in you."
- Iphicrates,

Born is a Cellar, . . . and living in a Garret.

Born is a Cellar, . . . and living in a Garret.

Say, when the ground our father Adam till'd,
And mother Eve the humble distaff held,
Who then read more

Say, when the ground our father Adam till'd,
And mother Eve the humble distaff held,
Who then his pedigree presumed to trace,
Or challenged the prerogative of place?
[Lat., Primus Adam duro cum vertet arva ligone,
Pensaque de vili deceret Eva colo:
Ecquis in hoc poterat vir nobilis orbe videri?
Et modo quisquam alios ante locandue erir?