An Ass was being driven along a road leading down the mountain side, when he suddenly took it into his silly head to choose his own path. Off he started on a run. Wait, cried the Cock. Now that I think of it, I have a wonderful wine here, sent me from Olympus, of which I am told Apollo drinks before he sings to the high gods. He had no chance to bite the watchful Countryman. Wolf!, But though the Villagers heard the cry, they did not run to help him as they had before. As they went along, picking up provisions on the way - a stray mouse here, a fat chicken there - they began an argument to while away the time between bites. Or is it his wrinkled hide? They have taken all they can hold. However small you may be, you are better than nothing at all.
Be not greedy for a little passing pleasure. It may destroy you.