you intend to do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat?
What will I do? says the ox: I will continue to do as you taught
me. I will go off from him, and threaten him with my horns, as I
did yesterday; I will feign myself to be sick, and just ready to
die. Beware of that, replies the ass, it will ruin you: for as I
came home this evening, I heard the merchant, our master, say
something that makes me tremble for you. Alas! what did you hear?
says the ox; as you love me, hide nothing from me, my dear
Sprightly. Our master, replied the ass, had these sad expressions
to the labourer: Since the ox does not eat, and is not able to
work, I would have him killed tomorrow, and we will give his
flesh as an alms to the poor for God's sake; as for his skin,
that will be of use to us, and I would have you give it to the
currier to dress; therefore do not fail to send for the butcher.
This is what I had to tell you, says the ass. The concern I have
for your preservation, and my friendship for you, obliged me to
let you know it, and to give you new advice. As soon as they
bring you your bran and straw, rise up and eat heartily. Our
master will, by this, think that you are cured, and no doubt will
recal his orders for killing you; whereas, if you do otherwise,
you are certainly gone.

This discourse had the effect which the ass designed. The ox was
strangely troubled at it, and bellowed out for fear. The
merchant, who heard the discourse very attentively, fell into
such a fit of laughter, that his wife was surprised at it, and
said, Pray, husband, tell me what you laugh at so heartily, that
I may laugh with you. Wife, said he, you must content yourself
with hearing me laugh. No, replies she, I will know the reason. I
cannot give you that satisfaction, answers he, but only that I