"It was the eater of my food that made insurrection; he to whom I gave a
helping hand produced terror therewith; they who put on my fine linen
looked on me as shadows[247]; they who were anointed with my
frankincense defiled me while using it.
5. [Men forget the heroism of his achievements on their behalf, though
their happy condition speaks loudly of it; by forgetting they lose much
of the advantages he has procured them.]
"My portraits are among the living, my achievements among men, making
for me dirges that none heed, a great feat of combat that none see.
Behold, one fighteth for a lassoed ox, that forgetteth yesterday. Good
fortune is not complete for one who cannot know it.[248]