THE FABLE

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.”

This speech produced the intended effect; the ox was much troubled, and lowed with fear. The merchant, who had listened to every thing with great attention, burst into a fit of laughter that quite surprised his wife. “Tell me,” said she, “what you laugh at, that I may join in it.”—“Be satisfied,” he answered, “at hearing me.”—“No, no,” she added, “I wish to know the cause.”—“That satisfaction,” replied the husband, “I cannot afford you: I can only tell you, that I laughed at what the ass said to the ox; the rest is a secret, which I must not reveal.”—“And why not?” asked his wife. “Because, if I tell you, it will cost me my life.”—“You trifle with me,” added she; “this can never be true; and if you do not immediately inform me what you laughed at, I swear, by the great Ruler of the earth, that we will live together no longer.”

In saying this, she went back to the house, shut herself up, and cried the whole night. Her husband slept alone; and finding that she continued in the same state the next day, he said, “How foolish it is to afflict yourself this way: the thing is not worth it, nor can it be of so much consequence to you to know it, as for me to keep it concealed. Think no more of it then, I conjure you.”—“I shall, however, so continue to think of it,” replied she, “that I shall not cease to lament, till my curiosity is satisfied.”—“Do I not seriously tell you,” added he, “that if I were to yield to your foolish importunities, it would cost me my life.”—“Whatever happens rests with God,” said she, “but I shall not alter my mind.”—“I see very plainly,” answered the merchant, “it is not possible to make you submit to reason, and that your obstinacy will kill you; therefore I will call your children, that they may have the satisfaction of seeing you before you die.” He then ordered his family to be present, and sent also for the parents and other relations of his wife; when they were all assembled, he explained to them his motives for calling them together: and requested them to use all their influence with his wife, and endeavour to convince her of the folly of her conduct. She rejected them all, and said she had rather die than give up this point to her husband. Each of her parents urged every argument, and used every persuasion in their power; they told her, that what she wished to know could be of no consequence to her; but they could make no impression either by their authority or eloquence. When her children saw that nothing could alter her resolution, they began to lament most bitterly; the merchant himself knew not what to do. A little while afterwards he was sitting by chance at the door of his house, considering whether he should not even sacrifice himself in order to save his wife, whom he so tenderly loved.

This merchant, my child (continued the vizier, still addressing Scheherazadè) had fifty hens and only one cock, and also a very faithful dog. While he was sitting at the door, meditating what plan to pursue, he saw the dog run towards the cock, who was amusing himself with a hen, and address him in these words: “You will not, O cock, be suffered to live long, if you are not ashamed of being thus employed to-day.” The latter, strutting up to the dog, haughtily answered, “Who shall prevent my doing what I please to-day as well as at other times?”—“Are you ignorant then,” replied the dog, “that our master is in great affliction? His wife wishes him to reveal a secret of such a nature, that the discovery will cost him his life: and it is feared he will be unable to resist her importunities, as the tears of one he so much loves afflict him to such a degree: we are all alarmed at the dangerous situation he is in, while you, insulting our grief, have the impertinence to divert yourself with your hens.”

“Our master is a fool then,” replied the cock; “he has only one wife, and cannot gain his point; while I have fifty, and do just as I please. Let him return to his senses, and he will easily get out of the embarrassment he is in.”—“What would you do?” said the dog.—“What?” answered the cock, “why let him only go into the room where his wife is, and after shutting the door, take a good-sized stick, and give her a handsome beating; I will answer for it she will soon know better, and not worry him to reveal what he ought to keep secret.” The merchant no sooner heard what the cock said, than he got up, and taking rather a large stick, went to his wife, who was still weeping. Having shut the door he applied the remedy so effectually, that she soon exclaimed, “Enough, enough, my husband, leave me, and I will ask no more questions.” On hearing this, and believing that she repented of her ill-timed curiosity, he gave over beating her, and opening the door, all her family came in, heartily glad at finding her more rational, and congratulated her husband on the happy expedient he found out for the purpose. “You deserve, my daughter,” added the grand vizier, “to be treated like the merchant’s wife.”

“Do not, sir,” answered Scheherazadè, “think ill of me if I still persist in my sentiments. The history of this woman does not shake my resolution; I could recount, on the other hand, many others which ought to persuade you not to oppose my design. Pardon me too, if I add, that your opposition will be useless; when paternal tenderness shall have refused the request I make, I will present myself to the sultan.” At length her father, overcome by his daughter’s firmness, yielded to her entreaties: and, although he was much afflicted at not being able to conquer her resolution, he immediately went to Schahriar and announced to him, that Scheherazadè herself would be his bride on the following night.

The sultan was much astonished at the sacrifice of the grand vizier. “Is it possible,” said he, “that you can give up your own child?”—“Sire,” replied the vizier, “she has herself made the offer. The dreadful fate that hangs over her does not alarm her; and she prefers, even to her existence, the honor of being the consort of your majesty, though it be but for one night.”—“Vizier,” said the sultan, “do not deceive yourself with any hopes; for be assured, that in delivering Scheherazadè into your charge to-morrow, it will be with an order for her death; and if you disobey, your own head shall be the forfeit.”—“Although,” answered the vizier, “my heart is distracted at fulfilling your majesty’s commands, although human nature has much to lament, and although I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of this arm.” Schahriar accepted his minister’s offer, and informed him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.

When the grand vizier carried this intelligence to Scheherazadè, she seemed as much rejoiced as if it had been of the most pleasing nature; she thanked her father for obliging her so greatly; and observing him to be much afflicted, she consoled him by saying, that she hoped he would be so far from repenting her marriage with the sultan, that it would become a subject of joy to him for the remainder of his life.

She now occupied herself with the manner in which she should appear before the sultan; but before she went to the palace she called her sister, Dinarzadè, aside, and said, “I am in great want of your assistance, my dear sister, in a very important affair: and I hope you will not refuse me. My father is going to conduct me to the palace as the wife of the sultan. Do not let this news alarm you, but attend rather to what I say. As soon as I shall have presented myself before the sultan, I shall intreat him to suffer you to sleep in the bridal chamber, that I may enjoy, for the last time, your company. If I obtain this favor, as I expect, remember to awaken me to-morrow morning an hour before day-break, and address these words to me: “If you are not asleep, my sister, I beg of you, till the morning appears, to recount to me one of those delightful stories you know.” I will immediately begin to tell you one; and I flatter myself that by these means I shall free the kingdom from the consternation in which it is.” Dinarzadè promised to do with pleasure what she required.

When the hour of retiring approached, the grand vizier conducted Scheherazadè to the palace, and after introducing her to the sultan’s apartment, took his leave. They were no sooner alone than the sultan ordered her to take off her veil. He was charmed with her beauty; but perceiving her in tears, he demanded the cause of them. “Sire,” answered Scheherazade, “I have a sister, whom I tenderly love, and whose attachment to me is equally strong; I earnestly wish, that she might be permitted to pass the night in this apartment, that we might again see each other, and again take a tender farewell. Will you then consent that I shall have the consolation of giving her this last proof of my affection? Schahriar having agreed to it, they sent for Dinarzadè, who came directly. The sultan passed the night with Scheherazadè on an elevated couch, as was the custom among the eastern monarchs; and Dinarzadè slept at the foot of it on a mattress, prepared for the purpose.

Dinarzadè, having awoke about an hour before day, did not fail to do what her sister had ordered her. “My dear sister,” she said, “if you are not asleep, I entreat you, as it will soon be light, to relate to me one of those agreeable tales you know. It will, alas, be the last time I shall receive that pleasure.”

Instead of returning any answer to her sister, Scheherazadè addressed these words to the sultan; “Will your majesty permit me to indulge my sister in her request?”—“Freely,” replied he. Scheherazadè then desired her sister to attend, and, addressing herself to the sultan, began as follows.