1- An IP network is connected to a Novell IPX via a gateway as shown below. Draw the protocol layers of the gateway.

2- List and briefly define the key areas that comprise network management

3- Explain succinctly the difference between the database of a network management system and its MIB. How do you implement each in a network management system?

4- List two ways in which a network management system may be characterized as integrated.

5- List and briefly define the key elements of SNMP.

Arraignment  of  Men  –  Sor  Juana  Ines  de  la  Cruz     Misguided  men,  who  will  chastise  

a  woman  when  blame  is  due,   oblivious  that  it  is  you   who  prompted  what  you  criticize;  

if  your  passions  are  so  strong   that  you  elicit  their  disdain,   how  can  you  wish  that  they  refrain   when  you  incite  them  to  their  wrong?     You  strive  to  topple  their  defense,   and  then,  with  utmost  gravity,   you  credit  sensuality   for  what  was  won  diligence.     Your  daring  must  be  qualified,   your  sense  is  no  less  senseless  than   the  child  who  calls  the  boogeyman,   then  weeps  when  he  is  terrified.  

Your  mad  presumption  knows  no  bounds,     though  for  a  wife  you  want  Lucrece,   in  lovers  you  prefer  Thaïs,   thus  seeking  blessings  to  compound.     If  knowingly  one  clouds  a  mirror   –was  ever  humor  so  absurd   or  good  counsel  so  obscured?—   can  he  lament  that  it’s  not  clearer?     From  either  favor  or  disdain   the  selfsame  purpose  you  achieve,   if  they  love,  they  are  deceived,   if  they  love  not,  hear  you  complain     There  is  no  woman  suits  your  taste,   though  circumspection  be  her  virtue:   ungrateful,  she  who  does  not  love  you,   yet  she  who  does,  you  judge  unchaste     You  men  are  such  a  foolish  breed,   appraising  with  a  faulty  rule,   the  first  you  charge  with  being  cruel,   the  second,  easy,  you  decree     So  how  can  she  be  temperate,   the  one  who  would  her  love  expend?   if  not  willing,  she  offends,   but  willing,  she  infuriates.     Amid  the  anger  and  torment   your  whimsy  causes  you  to  bear,   one  may  be  found  who  does  not  care:   how  quickly  then  is  grievance  vent.  

  So  lovingly  you  inflict  pain   that  inhibitions  fly  away;   how,  after  leading  them  astray,   can  you  wish  them  without  stain?     Who  does  the  greater  guilt  incur   when  a  passion  is  misleading?   She  who  errs  and  heeds  his  pleading,   or  he  who  pleads  with  her  to  err?     Whose  is  the  greater  guilt  therein   when  either’s  conduct  may  dismay:   she  who  sins  and  takes  the  pay,   or  he  who  pays  her  for  the  sin?     Why,  for  sins  you’re  guilty  of,   do  you,  amazed,  your  blame  debate?   Either  love  what  you  create   or  else  create  what  you  can  love.     Were  not  it  better  to  forbear   and  thus,  with  finer  motivation,   obtain  the  unforced  admiration   of  her  plotted  to  ensnare?     But  no,  I  deem  you  still  will  revel   in  your  arms  and  arrogance,   and  in  promise  and  persistence   adjoin  flesh  and  world  and  devil.      

I approach, and I withdraw:

I approach, and I withdraw: who but I could find absence in the eyes, presence in what's far?

From the scorn of Phyllis, now, alas, I must depart. One is indeed unhappy who misses even scorn!

So caring is my love that my present distress minds hard-heartedness less than the thought of its loss.

Leaving, I lose more than what is merely mine: in Phyllis, never mine, I lose what can't be lost.

Oh, pity the poor person who aroused such kind disdain that to avoid giving pain, it would grant no favor!

For, seeing in my future obligatory exile, she disdained me the more, that the loss might be less.

Oh, where did you discover so neat a tactic, Phyllis: denying to disdain the garb of affection?

To live unobserved by your eyes, I now go where never pain of mine need flatter your disdain.

Love Opened a Mortal Wound

Love opened a mortal wound. In agony, I worked the blade to make it deeper. Please, I begged, let death come quick.

Wild, distracted, sick, I counted, counted all the ways love hurt me. One life, I thought--a thousand deaths.

Blow after blow, my heart couldn't survive this beating. Then--how can I explain it?

I came to my senses. I said, Why do I suffer? What lover ever had so much pleasure?

My Lady

My lady, I must implore forgiveness for keeping still, if what I meant as tribute ran contrary to your will.

Please do not reproach me if the course I have maintained in the eagerness of my love left my silence unexplained.

I love you with so much passion, neither rudeness nor neglect can explain why I tied my tongue, yet left my heart unchecked.

The matter to me was simple: love for you was so strong, I could see you in my soul and talk to you all day long.

With this idea in mind, I lived in utter delight, pretending my subterfuge found favor in your sight.

In this strange, ingenious fashion, I allowed the hope to be mine that I still might see as human what I really conceived as divine.

Oh, how mad I became in my blissful love of you, for even though feigned, your favor made all my madness seem true!

How unwisely my ardent love, which your glorious sun inflamed, sought to feed upon your brightness, though the risk of your fire was plain!

Forgive me if, thus emboldened, I made bold with that sacred fire: there's no sanctuary secure when thought's transgressions conspire.

Thus it was I kept indulging these foolhardy hopes of mine,

enjoying within myself a happiness sublime.

But now, at your solemn bidding, this silence I herewith suspend, for your summons unlocks in me a respect no time can end.

And, although loving your beauty is a crime beyond repair, rather the crime be chastised than my fervor cease to dare.

With this confession in hand, I pray, be less stern with me. Do not condemn to distress one who fancied bliss so free.

If you blame me for disrespect, remember, you gave me leave; thus, if obedience was wrong, your commanding must be my reprieve.

Let my love be ever doomed if guilty in its intent, for loving you is a crime of which I will never repent.

This much I descry in my feelings-- and more that I cannot explain; but you, from what I've not said, may infer what words won't contain.

Since I'm Condemned

Since I'm condemned to death by your decree, Fabio, and don't appeal, resist or flee the wrathful judgment, hear me, for there's no culprit of such guilt should be refused confession.

Because, you say, you've been informed my breast has caused offence to you, I stand condemned, ferocious one. Does uncertain news, not fact, achieve more in your obdurate breast than experience of so many truths?

If you've believed in others', Fabio, why not believe in your own eyes? Why, reversing the sense of Law, deliver to the rope my neck? You're as liberal with your rigours as meanly strict with favours.

If I have looked at other eyes, Fabio, kill me with your wrathful eyes. If I serve another care, let your implacable anger serve me. And if another's love diverts me, you, who've been my life, strike me dead.

If I have viewed another with delight, never be delight in our mutual looks; if with another I engaged in pleasant speech, let your eternal displeasure point at me. And if another love disturbs my sense, chase out of me my soul, who've been my soul.

But as I die without resisting my unhappy lot, my only wish is you allow me choose the death I like. Let my death be of my choice, for your mere choice continues me in life.

Let me not die of harshness, Fabio, when I can die of love. That will do you credit, redeem me, since to die for love, not for guilt, is no less a death,

but more an honoured one.

And now, finally, I seek your pardon for all the wrongs I did to you through love. Wrongs they are and they deserve your scorn. Your offence is just in my accosting you, because by loving you I turn you to ingratitude.

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