'My dear companion,' Towser said,-- ''Tis as a starving dog I ask it,-- Pray lower down your loaded basket, And let me get a piece of bread.' No answer--not a word!--indeed, The truth was, our Arcadian steed[26] Fear'd lest, for every moment's flight, His nimble teeth should lose a bite. At last, 'I counsel you,' said he, 'to wait Till master is himself awake, Who then, unless I much mistake, Will give his dog the usual bait.' Meanwhile, there issued from the wood A creature of the wolfish brood, Himself by famine sorely pinch'd. At sight of him the donkey flinch'd, And begg'd the dog to give him aid. The dog budged not, but answer made,-- 'I counsel thee, my friend, to run, Till master's nap is fairly done; There can, indeed, be no mistake, That he will very soon awake; Till then, scud off with all your might; And should he snap you in your flight, This ugly wolf,--why, let him feel The greeting of your well-shod heel. I do not doubt, at all, but that Will be enough to lay him flat.' But ere he ceased it was too late; The ass had met his cruel fate. Thus selfishness we reprobate. [25] Abstemius. [26] _Arcadian steed_.--La Fontaine has "roussin d'Arcadie." The ass was so derisively nicknamed. See also Fable XIX., Book VI. XVIII.--THE PASHAW AND THE MERCHANT.[27] A trading Greek, for want of law, Protection bought of a pashaw; And like a nobleman he paid, Much rather than a man of trade-- Protection being, Turkish-wise, A costly sort of merchandise. So costly was it, in this case, The Greek complain'd, with tongue and face. Three other Turks, of lower rank, Would guard his substance as their own, And all draw less upon his bank, Than did the great pashaw alone. The Greek their offer gladly heard, And closed the bargain with a word. The said pashaw was made aware, And counsel'd, with a prudent care These rivals to anticipate, By sending them to heaven's gate, As messengers to Mahomet-- Which measure should he much delay, Himself might go the self-same way, By poison offer'd secretly, Sent on, before his time, to be Protector to such arts and trades As flourish in the world of shades. On this advice, the Turk--no gander-- Behaved himself like Alexander.[28] Straight to the merchant's, firm and stable, He went, and took a seat at table. Such calm assurance there was seen, Both in his words and in his mien, That e'en that weasel-sighted Grecian Could not suspect him of suspicion. 'My friend,' said he, 'I know you've quit me, And some think caution would befit me, Lest to despatch me be your plan: But, deeming you too good a man To injure either friends or foes With poison'd cups or secret blows, I drown the thought, and say no more. But, as regards the three or four Who take my place,