A Fly sat on the axle-tree of a chariot, and addressing the
Draught-Mule said, "How slow you are! Why do you not go
faster? See if I do not prick your neck with my sting."
The Draught-Mule replied, "I do not heed your threats; I
only care for him who sits above you, and who quickens
my pace with his whip, or holds me back with the reins.
Away, therefore, with your insolence, for I know well when
to go fast, and when to go slow."
(Translated by George Fyler Townsend, 1814-1900)