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.

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

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?

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

Quoth Hudibras, I smell a rat; Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate.

For now the field is not far off Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words.