In the land of Eldrida, there was a wealthy merchant known for his vast holdings and abundant livestock. He had several estates scattered throughout the countryside, each teeming with cattle and other beasts.
But despite his riches, the merchant yearned for a simpler life, one where he could tend to the land and animals himself. So, he and his family retreated to a secluded estate, determined to live off the land.
The merchant possessed a rare and coveted ability - the power of beast-speech. He could understand the language of all creatures, from the lowliest insect to the mightiest dragon.
But this gift came with a terrible curse: he could not interpret his findings to anyone, or risk his own life. So, the merchant remained silent, unable to share the secrets he learned from the animal kingdom with the outside world.
In the kingdom of Arvandor, there was an ox and a donkey who shared a common trough. One day, while their owner watched his children play, he overheard a conversation between the two beasts.
The ox turned to the donkey and said, "I envy your life, dear friend. You are treated with care and given the best food and water. Your greatest responsibility is to carry our master on his short journeys. But my life is far different. I am tied to a plough from dawn until dusk, pulling and straining until I am exhausted.
The ploughman behind me never stops beating me, and by the end of the day, my neck is raw and bloody. And when I return home, I am given a handful of dry, dirty beans to eat before being left to sleep in my own filth. It is no wonder I covet your comfortable existence.
The donkey listened patiently as the ox spoke, but when he had finished, the donkey replied, "You are a fool, my friend. You allow yourself to be led around and treated poorly, and you have no sense of self-determination.
But why do you endure such suffering? You work yourself to the bone for the benefit of those who do not appreciate you. If you had any backbone, you would stand up for yourself. When they come to tie you to the plough, why do you not resist?
Use your horns and hooves to defend yourself. Let your rage be known with your bellows. Nature has given you the means to be respected, and yet you do not use them.
If you refuse to eat their stale beans and straw, they will soon see that you are not to be trifled with. Follow my advice, and you will see a change for the better."
The ox was grateful for the donkey's wise counsel, and vowed to follow it. "Dear Awakened One," he said, "I shall not forget your words. You will see how I will put them into action."
And with that, the two beasts fell silent, their conversation overheard by the merchant, who had listened intently to every word.
The next morning, the ploughman came to lead the ox to his usual labor. But the ox, who had not forgotten the donkey's advice, was uncooperative. He backed away from the ploughman and bellowed, lowering his horns as if to charge.
He performed all the tricks the donkey had taught him, making it clear he would not be tamed so easily. When the ploughman returned the next day, he found the ox lying on the ground, panting and refusing to get up.
Believing the ox to be sick, the ploughman took pity on him and went to inform the merchant.
The merchant, upon realizing that the ox had taken the donkey's ill-advised counsel, decided to punish the donkey. "Go," he commanded the ploughman, "take the donkey in place of the ox, and make sure he works hard."
The ploughman obeyed, and the donkey was forced to pull the plough all day, causing him to become even more exhausted. To add insult to injury, the ploughman struck the donkey repeatedly with a stick, until he could barely walk by the time he returned in the evening.
However, the ox was very happy. He had eaten everything in his trough and rested all day. He rejoiced at having followed the advice of the Awakened One, and thanked him profusely for the good fortune he had brought.
When the donkey arrived, the ox greeted him warmly. But the donkey said nothing, so upset was he at his mistreatment. "It is my own foolishness that has brought me to this," he thought to himself.
"I was happy before, with everything I could wish for. Now I am in this miserable state, and unless I can think of a way to escape, my fate is sealed." With these thoughts, the donkey's strength was so depleted that he collapsed, half-dead, at the foot of his trough.
At this point, the Grand Vizier turned to Shaikeza and said, "Daughter, you are like the donkey, exposing yourself to danger through false prudence. Trust me, stay at rest and do not seek to avoid your death."
"Father," replied Shaikeza, "the example you have given does not sway me from my resolve. I will not stop pestering you until you present me to the Sultan as his bride."
Seeing that she remained stubborn in her request, the Vizier replied, "Very well! If you will not give up your obstinacy, I will be forced to treat you as the merchant treated his wife, as I mentioned before. And here is how:
"The merchant, upon learning of the donkey's pitiable state, was curious to see what would happen between him and the ox. Therefore, after dinner, he stepped out into the moonlight and went to sit with them, accompanied by his wife.
Upon arriving, he heard the donkey say to the ox, 'Comrade, tell me, please, what do you intend to do when the ploughman brings you food tomorrow?'
"'What I will do,' replied the ox, 'is continue to follow your advice. I will first move away, present my horns as I did yesterday, pretend to be sick, and act as if I am at death's door.'
"'Beware,' interrupted the donkey, 'that would be the way to ruin yourself. For upon arriving this evening, I heard our master, the merchant, say something that has me trembling for you.'
"'Hey! What did you hear?' said the ox. 'Don't hide anything from me, please, dear Awakened One.'
"Our master," continued the donkey, "said to the ploughman these sad words: 'Since the ox is not eating and cannot support himself, I want him to be killed tomorrow.
We will, for the love of God, give his flesh to the poor as an alms, and as for his hide, which could be useful to us, you will give it to the leatherworker. So do not fail to summon the butcher.' This is what I had to tell you," added the donkey.
"The interest I have in your preservation, and the friendship I have for you, obligate me to warn you and give you new advice: first, when they bring you your beans and straw, get up and pounce on them eagerly.
The master will judge from this that you are healed and will surely revoke your death sentence. On the other hand, if you act otherwise, it will be the end of you."