The Galli, {priests} of Cybele,[4] were in the habit, on their begging excursions, of leading about an Ass, to carry their burdens. When he was dead with fatigue and blows, his hide being stripped off, they made themselves tambourines[5] therewith. Afterwards, on being asked by some one what they had done with their favourite, they answered in these words: “He fancied that after death he would rest in quiet; but see, dead as he is, fresh blows are heaped upon him.” [Footnote IV.4: _Priests of Cybele_)--Ver. 4. During the Festival of Cybele, the Galli or eunuch-priests of the Goddess went about with an image of her seated on an ass, and beating a tambourine, for the purpose of making a collection to defray the expenses of the worship. They were called by the Greeks μητραγύρται, “Collectors for the Mother.” See the Fasti of Ovid, B. iv., l. 350, vol. i., p. 149, of Bohn’s Translation.] [Footnote IV.5: _Tambourines_)--Ver. 7. “The tympana,” which were almost exactly similar to our tambourines, were covered with the skin of asses or of oxen, and were beaten with the hand or a small stick.] FABLE II. THE WEASEL AND THE MICE. This way of writing seems to you facetious; and no doubt, while we have nothing of more importance, we do sport with the pen. But examine these Fables with attention, {and} what useful lessons will you find {concealed} under them! Things are not always what they seem; first appearances deceive many: few minds understand what skill has hidden in an inmost corner. That I may not appear to have said this without reason, I will add a Fable about the Weasel and the Mice. A Weasel, worn out with years and old age, being unable to overtake the active Mice, rolled herself in flour, and threw herself carelessly along in a dark spot. A Mouse, thinking her food, jumped upon her, and, being caught, was put to death: another in like manner perished, and then a third. Some others having followed, an {old} brindled fellow came, who had escaped snares and mouse-traps full oft; and viewing from afar the stratagem of the crafty foe: “So fare you well,[6]” said he, “you that are lying there, as you are flour.” [Footnote IV.6: _So fare you well_)--Ver. 21. “Sic valeas.” --“Fare you well, if you are flour, which you are not. I wish you luck as much as I believe you are what you pretend to be, _i.e._, not at all.”] FABLE III. THE FOX AND THE GRAPES. Urged by hunger, a Fox, leaping with all her might, tried to reach a cluster of Grapes upon a lofty vine. When {she found} she could not reach them, she left them, saying: “They are not ripe yet; I don’t like to eat them while sour.” Those who disparage what they cannot perform, ought to apply this lesson to themselves. FABLE IV. THE HORSE AND THE WILD BOAR.