The Mouse answered, 'There is no kind of enmity so grave in its effects as that implanted by nature. For if an accidental hostility should arise between two persons, slight measures may suffice to remove it, and a trifling cause may dispel it. But if enmity has sprung up in the original nature, and its consequences have implanted themselves in the minds of both parties, and if to that hereditary hostility be added new reasons for hate, and former dislike be combined with subsequent quarrels, the removal thereof can in no wise enter the circle of possibility, and the getting rid of it is altogether beyond the limits of human power, and its extinction involves the annihilation of both parties. HEMISTICH. Till the head goes, that thought the head leaves not. The first is And the wise have said, 'Natural enmity is of two kinds. when the injury resulting from it is not confined to one of the two parties. Now the one is vexed by the other. and now the injury is reversed, as in the case of the elephant and the lion, who cannot meet without a contest. Yet it does not follow that the victory is always on one side, and that the other will as constantly be put to flight. But on some occasions the raging lion is triumphant, and on others the furious clephant is the conqueror. Now this kind of enmity is not so intense that its wounds cannot be salved, because the party with which the victory remains, his heart will undoubtedly be pacified. The other kind is where the injury is always on one side, and the advantage on the other, like that of the mouse and the cat, and of the wolf and the sheep; and where the pain is restricted to one party, and the pleasure to the other; and this enmity is so powerful that not the revolution of the sky can change it, nor the vicissitudes of time undo its knot: and where it is known that one party aims at the life of the other, without there having been a previous attempt in time past from that other party, or the possibility of injury from him in the future, how can a reconcilliation take place there? or, how can intercourse there be carried on? VERSE. When day and night together meet, And shade with sunshine blends, Discerning men Would ridicule such friends.' The Crow replied, Praise be to God! no hostility from me to thee was mixed up in my original composition, and if in those of my race a fortuitous enmity has sprung up to thee, the mirror of my heart, at least, is free from the dust of malignity, and the glass of my mind is prepared to receive the refraction of the rays of love and affection; and assuredly as the maxim, From heart to heart there is a window,' is true, I am in hopes that the sincere heart of that dear friend will testify to the truth of my friendship. HEMISTICH. Think not thy loved one cannot read thy heart?' The Mouse answered, 'Thou art beyond measure importunate, and troublest me by thus pressing on me thy friendship; and should I accept it and thou, too, stand to thy purpose, it is probable that on some trifling cause thou wilt break the chain of amity and return to thy former original habits and natural hostility-like water, which though it be kept long in one place so as to alter its smell and taste, yet retains its primitive properties, and if they pour it on fire, does not fail to quench it. And to consort with an enemy is like mixing with snakes and vipers, which is not safe; and friendship with foes resembles associating with tigers of sharp claws, which deserves not to be tried: and the wise have said, 'We must not be beguiled by the assurances of our enemies, although they pretend to be friendly, nor must we confide in their words though they prepare the way to an agreement most assiduously. COUPLET. To hope new friends will spring from ancient foes, Is from a furnace 2 to expect a rose. And whoever, relying on an enemy, is elated by his civilities and listens to his cajolements with the ear of approval, will meet with what befell that Camel-rider.' The Crow inquired, 'How was that?' STORY III. 3 The Mouse said, 'They have related that a Camel-rider, as he was journeying, arrived at a place where the people of a caravan had made a fire, and after their departure the fan of the wind stirred it and set it in a blaze, and the sparks leaping forth from it, fell among the wood in all parts, and in every corner of the desert a dreadful conflagration 3 arose, and in the midst of those flames a large snake-a huge venomous serpent was left, and being intercepted could not find a way to escape in any direction, nor any path to get free. He was on the point of being fried like a fish in a frying-pan, and like a roasted partridge on the fire, his blood was about to drop from his poisonscattering eyes-when he beheld that rider, and calling for help, exclaimed, COUPLET. 'What if thou should'st take pity on my lot, And of these difficulties solve the knot?' The Camel-rider was a merciful and kind man. When he heard the snake's supplication and beheld its distress and trouble, he thought to 1 The editions here have a misprint, tú for nau 'new.' 2 This line loses all its point in English. In the original there is an equivoque on gul 'a rose,' and gulkhan, a furnace for heating baths.' 3 Lit., a tulip-bed,' the brilliant colour of which flower resembles that of a conflagration. himself, 'It is true that snakes are the enemies of men, but he is now helpless and dismayed. My best course is to take pity on him and sow in the soil of action the seed of kindness, which can bear no other fruit than happiness in this world and exaltation in that to come.' He then fixed the huntsman's-bag' that he had with him to the point of a spear and reached it thither. The snake, too happy to avail himself of it, crept into the bag, and the rider thinking it a good act drew him out from the midst of the fire. He then opened the mouth of the bag and said to the snake, 'Go whithersoever thou wilt, and in gratitude for thy escape from this calamity, withdraw into solitude nor hereafter put thyself into a position to injure man; for he that injures God's creatures, is disgraced in this world and miserable 2 in that to come. COUPLET. Fear God, nor any living thing distress, This is the one sole road to happiness.' 6 The snake replied, Cease from these words, young man! for I will not depart till I have bitten thee and thy camel.' The rider answered, 'Have I not done thee a kindness and brought thee out of the fire? is this my recompense, and such the reward I am to receive? On my part is the kindly deed, COUPLET. From thee shall cruel acts proceed?' The snake rejoined, 'True! thou hast done a kind action, but it was shown to an undeserving object; and thou hast been clement, but thy clemency was mis-placed. Thou knowest that I am a vehicle of mischief and that no benefit to men can be anticipated from me. Wherefore when thou didst exert thyself to release me and showedst kindness to one with whom thou oughtedst to have dealt roughly; of course it is necessary, in requital, to cause thee distress, for showing kindness to the bad is equivalent to injuring the good. VERSE. The canons of the law and prudence too, Bid us not harm the good and pure. And so we should not kindly actions do To those from whom men wrongs endure. And moreover in accordance with that verse of the Kur'an, The one of you shall be an enemy unto the other,' an ancient enmity exists between us and you, and prudence requires that we should bruise the head of an enemy, and 1 Túbrah may be either a huntsman's bag,' or 'a nosebag for a horse.' 2 The epithet dushman-i kám 'miserable,' is worth remarking. It properly signifies 'foe's wish,' i.e., miserable as even one's enemies could desire. 3 Kur'an, Ch. xx. 121; Sale p. 242, 1. 17: And thus Adam became disobedient unto his Lord and was seduced. Afterwards his Lord accepted him on his repentance, and was turned unto him and directed him. And God said, 'Get ye down hence all of you; the one of you shall be an enemy unto the other.' agreeably to the command, Kill ye the two black things,'1 you ought to get rid of us, and while it is decreed that man should not permit us to go unscathed, thou hast in this matter abandoned the lawful and prudent course and chosen to be merciful, and I will assuredly inflict a wound on thee for a warning to others.' The rider said, 'O snake! let justice be appealed to, for in what creed is it deemed right to requite good with evil? and in what sect is it admissible to give the foulness of wrong in exchange for the purity of advantage?' The snake replied, 'Such is the custom of you men, and I, too, do but practice what you pronounce; and I sell to you what I have bought from you in the mart of recompense. HEMISTICH. Buy for one instant what whole years you sell.' In vain the man protested, the snake exclaimed, Decide with all speed whether I shall wound thee first, or commence with the camel.' The young man replied, 'Desist from this idea, for it is not fortunate to requite good with evil.' The snake answered, 'This is the custom of men, and I do but act in the same manner as they.' The rider denied this accusation, and said, 'If thou canst prove this by clear testimony, and wilt bring evidence to establish thy charge that men are wont to requite actions in this manner, I will purchase thy wound with my life, and will acquiesce in my own. destruction.' The snake looked about him and saw at a distance a buffalo, which was feeding in the plain. 'Come,' he said, 'let us ask the truth of my assertion from this buffalo.' The man and the snake then approached the buffalo, and the snake addressed it saying, 'O buffalo! what is the reward of good?' The buffalo replied, If thou inquirest what it is among men, [I answer] the reward of good is evil. Lo! I was for a long time with one of them, and every year I brought forth a young one, and filled his house with milk and butter, and supplied the means on which his marriage and his subsistence were based. When I grew old, and became unable to bear young, he gave up attending to me, and turning me out of his house set me loose in the plain. After that I grazed for a long time here, and passed my time without work, according to my own wish. I began to grow somewhat fat, and yesterday my master came by here, and thought I looked fat. Hereupon he brought a butcher, and sold me to him; and to-day they are going to take me to the slaughter-house, and mean to kill me. Behold! such is the reward. of all the good that I have recounted. HEMISTICH. Such, friends, my state! to whom can I it tell?' The snake replied Lo! thou hast heard. Prepare thyself quickly for the What the two black things referred to in the maxim may be, I know not; probably the scorpion and the snake. wound.' The Camel-rider replied, 'In legal trials they do not pronounce sentence upon the evidence of one witness. Bring another, and do what thou wilt.' The snake looked about him, and seeing a tree said, 'Come, and I will ask this tree.' They then came together to the foot of the tree, and the snake inquired of it, What is the reward of good?' It replied, Among men the reward of good is evil, and the return for benefit, injury; and the proof is this: I am a tree that have sprung up in this wilderness, and I stand on one leg in the service of every comer and goer. When a child of Adam comes here oppressed with heat, aud weary from the desert, he rests for an hour under my shade, and for a time indulges in repose. When he opens his he says, 'Such a bough will do for the handle of an axe, and such a bit is fit and proper for a spade. One might cut some good planks out of its trunk, and of them make some fine doors;' and if they had saws or hatchets they would cut out of my branches and trunk whatever they fancied, and in spite of the enjoyment derived from me, would think fit to inflict all this suffering on me. eyes COUPLET. I thinking how he best might shaded be, The snake said, Lo! two witnesses have been brought; yield up thy body, that I may wound it.' The man replied, 'Life is very dear, and it is difficult to tear away the heart from the things of life, as long as it is possible to retain it. If one other person testifies in this matter, I will, without scruple, yield my body to this calamity, and acquiesce in God's decree.' Now, through a strange coincidence, a fox was standing by, observing their proceedings, and listening to their words with the ear of attention. The snake exclaimed, 'See there! Ask this fox what answer he would give.' Before the rider could put the question to him, the fox bawled out to the man, 'Dost thou not know that the return for good is evil? What good hast thou done to this snake, that has made thee worthy of being punished in requital?' The young man recounted the particulars; whereupon the fox said, 'Thou appearest to be a sensible man, how is it that thou speakest what is contrary to the truth? COUPLET. When will a man of sense himself to speak untruths permit? For wise men to belie the fact, in truth, can ne'er be fit.' The snake said, 'He speaks the truth, and behold! here, hanging to the saddle-strap, is the bag in which he brought me out of the fire!' The fox expressed his surprise, saying, ' How can one believe this story, that a snake of this size could be contained in a bag so small?' The snake answered, 'If thou dost not credit it, I will go again into the bag, that thou mayst see it with thine own eyes.' The fox rejoined, 'If I behold the thing, and have ocular demonstration of it, and find that these words are true, I will pronounce |