A man of worthless company keeps the company of the worthless; though devoid of practice, he wears the color of piety on his body. The fruit reveals itself at harvest to be of the same nature as its seed; its reputation in the world goes just as it deserves. It is like hanging a jewel around a monkey's neck while he abandons a noble bride and roams the alleys. Says Tuka, such a one was born of a she-donkey, and the disgrace that awaits him still lies ahead.