THE FABLE
OF THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE LABOURER.
A very rich merchant had several houses in the country, where he bred a considerable number of cattle of various descriptions. It happened, that he went to reside on one of his estates with his wife and children, for the purpose of superintending some improvements. The merchant understood the language of beasts; but it was only on the condition of not imparting what he heard to any one, under the penalty of death. Consequently he was prevented from communicating the knowledge he might thus acquire.
He had put by chance an ox and an ass into the same stall; and being one day seated near them, he heard the ox say to the ass: “How happy do I think your lot, when I consider the repose you enjoy, and the little labour you are required to perform. A servant looks after you with great care, washes you, feeds you with fine sifted barley, and gives you fresh and clean water; your greatest task is to carry the merchant, our master, when he has occasion to take a short journey; but for that, your whole life would be passed in idleness. How different now is the manner in which they treat me: my condition is as unfortunate as yours is pleasant. It is scarcely midnight when they yoke me to a plough, with which they make me turn up the ground the whole day; this sometimes quite exhausts me; while the labourer, who is constantly behind, continually urges me on with his goad. The weight and force of the plough, too, chafes all the skin from my neck. After having worked from morning till night, they give me unwholesome dirty beans, or even something worse; and to complete my misery, after having been obliged to satisfy my hunger upon such uninviting food, I am compelled to pass the night in my own filth. Have I not then reason to envy your lot?”
The ass suffered the ox to say what he pleased without interruption; and when he had finished, the former addressed him in these words: “In truth they are not much out when they call you an idiot, since you pass your life just as they please, and are not capable of forming a good resolution. What benefit, pray, do you derive from all your indignities? You even destroy yourself for the ease, pleasure, and profit of those who do not thank you for it. Believe me, they would not treat you thus if you possessed as much courage as strength; when they come to tie you to the manger, what resistance, pray, do you ever make? Do you ever put them in mind of your horns? Do you ever shew your anger by stamping on the ground with your feet? Why don’t you inspire them with dread by your bellowing? Nature has given you the means of making yourself respected, and yet you neglect to use them. They bring you bad beans and chaff; well, do not eat them, smell at them only, and leave them. Thus, if you follow my plans, you will soon perceive a change, which you will thank me for.” The ox took the advice of the ass very kindly, and shewed himself much obliged to him. “My dear companion,” added he, “I will not fail to do as you bid me, and you shall see how I will acquit myself.” After this conversation, of which the merchant lost not a word, they were silent.
Early the next morning, the labourer came for the ox, and yoked him to the plough, and set him to work as usual. The latter, who had not forgotten the advice he had received, was very unruly the whole day; and at night, when the labourer attempted to fasten him as usual to the stall, the malicious animal, instead of turning his horns towards him for that purpose, began to be outrageous, and ran roaring back; he even put down his horns to strike him; in short, he did exactly as the ass had taught him. The day following when the man came, he found the manger still full of beans and chaff; and the animal lying on the ground, with his legs stretched out, and making a strange groaning. The labourer thought it very ill, and that it was useless to take him to work; he therefore immediately went and informed the merchant of it.
The latter perceived that the bad advice of the ass had been followed; and in order to punish him as he deserved, he told the labourer to go and take the ass instead of the ox, and not fail to give him plenty of exercise. The man obeyed; and the ass was obliged to drag the plough the whole day, which tired him the more, because he was unaccustomed to it; besides which, he was so completely beaten, that he could scarcely support himself when he came back.
In the mean time the ox was very well satisfied, he eat all that was in his rack, and had rested the whole day. He was highly pleased with himself for having followed the advice of the ass, and blessed him a thousand times for the good he had procured him. As soon as he saw him return, he did not fail to repeat his thanks. The ass was so enraged at having been thus ill treated, that he would not answer a word. “My own imprudence,” said he to himself, “has alone brought this misfortune upon me. I lived happily, every thing was pleasant, I had all I wished for, and I may thank myself only for this reverse. If I cannot contrive some trick to get out of the scrape, my destruction is inevitable.” In saying this his strength was so much exhausted, that he fell down in his stall half dead.
In this place the grand vizier said to Scheherazade, “You are, my child, this ass, and expose yourself through a false idea of prudence and rectitude. Trust to me; and remain here in safety, without seeking your own destruction.”—“Sir,” replied Scheherazadè, “the example which you have brought, does not alter my resolution; and I shall not cease importuning you, till I have obtained from you the favor of presenting me to the sultan as his consort.” The vizier, finding her persist in her request, said, “Well then, since you will remain thus obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you as the merchant I mentioned did his wife.”
Being told in what a miserable state the ass was, he was curious to know what passed between him and the ox; after supper, therefore, he went out by moonlight, accompanied by his wife, and sat down near them; on his arrival, he heard the ass say to the ox, “Tell me, brother, what you mean to do when the labourer brings your food to-morrow?—“Mean to do?” replied the ox, “why what you taught me. At first I shall begin to retreat, then put down my horns as yesterday, and pretend to be ill, and almost dying.”—“Take care,” interrupted the ass, “what you are about, lest you destroy yourself; for in coming home yesterday evening, I heard the merchant, our master, say what made me tremble for you.”—“What did you hear?” asked the latter; “conceal nothing from me, I entreat you.”—“Our master,” replied the ass, addressed his labourer in these sad words, ‘Since the ox can neither eat nor support himself, I wish him to be killed to-morrow; we will give his flesh in charity to the poor, and you shall carry his skin, which will be useful to the currier; do not therefore fail to send for the butcher.’ This is what I heard; and the interest I take in your safety, and the friendship I have for you, induces me to mention it, and offer you my opinion on the subject. At first when they bring you beans and chaff, get up and begin eating directly. Our master by this will suppose that you have recovered, and will, without doubt, revoke the sentence for your death; in my opinion, if you act otherwise, it is all over with you.”