given me Now, of an inſufferable Hatred and Contempt? Æſop ſaid not one Word all This While; 'till Xanthus Rowz'd him with a Reproof. Oh Villain! ſays he; to have a Tonge and Wit at Will upon All other Occaſions, and not one Diverting Syllable Now at a Pinch, to Pacify your Miſtreſs! Æſop, after a ſhort Pauſe upon't, Bolted out an old Greek Saying, which is in Engliſh to this Effect, From Lying at the Mercy of Fire, Water, and a Wicked woman, Good Lord Deliver us. If the Wife was heartily angry before, This Scomm made her Stark Mad, and the Reproche was ſo Cutting too, that Xanthus himself did not well know how to take it. But Æſop, brought himſelf off again from the Malice of ill Intention, by a Paſſage out of Euripides to this Purpoſe. The Raging of a Tempestuous Sea; The Fury of a Devouring Fire, and the Pinching Want of Neceſſaries for Life; are Three Dreadful Things, and a Body might reckon up a Thouſand more; but all this is Nothing to the Terrible Violences of an Impetuous Woman, and therefore says he, Make your ſelfe as Glorious on the other ſide, in the Rank of Good Women. Vavaſor the Jesuite, in his De Ludicrâ Dictione, takes Notice of a Blunder here in the Chronology of the Story for Æſop was Murder'd at least Fourscore Yeares before Euripides was Born. But to follow the Thrid of the Relation; Upon this Oblique Admonition, the Woman came to her ſelf again, and took Æſop into her good Graces, who render'd his Maſter and Miſtreſs All the Offices of a Faithful Servant.
Cap. V.
Æſop's Answer to a Gard'ner.
Some Two or Three Dayes after the Encounter above mentioned, Xanthus took Æſop a long with him to a Garden to buy ſome Herbs, and the Gard'ner seeing him in the Habit of a Philoſopher, told him the Admiration he was in, to find how much faſter Thoſe Plants shot up that Grow of their own Accord, then Thoſe that he set Himſelf, though he took never ſo much Care about them. Now you that are a Philoſopher, Pray will you tell me the meaning of This? Xanthus had no better anſwer at hand, then to tell him, That Providence would have it ſo: Whereupon Æſop brake out into a Loud Laughter. Why how now Ye ſlave You, ſays Xanthus, what do you Laugh at? Æſop
