Virtue is the only true nobility: if you are just in word and deed, by these features I recognise you (agnosco 26) as a noble: otherwise your illustrious name may but be applied in mockery, as we call a dwarf an Atlas (1–38). Rubellius may boast of his ancestor Iulus: but if he sits still as a stock, while plebeians are actively serving their country in the law-court or the camp, he must look to be condemned like the lagging horse in the circus, whom no pedigree can save from the mill or the cart (39–70). Would you know how to live as befits your descent? Be a brave soldier, a just judge, an honest governor, as well in unwarlike Corinth as in rude Gaul or Spain. So will high birth be indeed an honour to you; whereas it only brings out in more glaring colours the crimes of the oppressor or debauchee (71–145). So is it with Lateranus, who, though a consular, lives the life of a vulgar sot: a slave, who should do the same, would be sent to work in chains in the country (146–182). Other nobles, still more completely lost to shame, appear on the stage. Be it so, that they are well paid: what of that? No plea, but that of necessity, can palliate the offence. Nor indeed can that: better were it to die, than to act with Thymele or Corinthus (183–197).