Before this animal was quite domesticated, and whilst it was yet kept in confinement, one of the gardener’s assistants was guilty of some error, of which the superintendant complained to the Defturdar. In no case dilatory in passing judgment, he ordered the accused, without going into details, or listening even to the full explanation of the case, to be cast into the lion’s den. This order was immediately complied with; the beast, however, treated the poor condemned wretch like a second Daniel; it not only did him no harm, but, to the astonishment of all beholders, licked his hands. The gardener’s assistant was not the animal’s attendant, but had occasionally thrown some of his bread into the den in passing. The noble animal had not forgotten this kindness, and spared his benefactor’s life. The Defturdar, on hearing this, was by no means pleased; but bloodthirsty as ever, and without feeling the slightest appreciation for this act of generosity, ordered the lion to be kept fasting during the whole of the day, and the delinquent to remain in confinement, thinking in the anger of ungratified rage, to force the beast to become the executioner of its benefactor. But even hunger could not overcome the magnanimity of the royal animal, and the poor gardener remained the whole day unhurt in the den with the lion.[8] In the evening he was liberated, but the unfortunate man did not long escape the vengeance of the tyrant, who, meeting him one day in the garden, where he had brushed up a heap of leaves, accosted him with, “Dog, thou art so bad that a lion will not eat thee, but now thou hast made thine own grave.” Hereupon he commanded him to carry the dry leaves to an oven, and then to creep in himself. When this order was executed the tyrant had the leaves lighted, and the poor wretch expired under the most horrid tortures.