And she answered, ‘Here, my son?’
And it said, ‘Go and tell my master upstairs the gazelle is very ill.’
‘Very good, my son; and if he should ask me what is the matter, what am I to say?’
‘Tell him all my body aches badly; I have no single part without pain.’
The old woman went upstairs, and she found the mistress and master sitting on a couch of marble spread with soft cushions, and they asked her, ‘Well, old woman, what do you want?’
‘To tell the master the gazelle is ill,’ said she.
‘What is the matter?’ asked the wife.
‘All its body pains; there is no part without pain.’
‘Well, what can I do? Make some gruel of red millet, and give to it.’
But his wife stared and said: ‘Oh, master, do you tell her to make the gazelle gruel out of red millet, which a horse would not eat? Eh, master, that is not well.’