Do you wish that? Well, content yourself, I have often done so, but you did not know it at the time, because you are always confusing yourself with your neighbour’s donkey. Your neighbour has also been complaining; he says that I have been all the time talking about _your_ donkeys. Compensation! The donkeys themselves have never complained, the good, dumb beasts.
“Yes. I am my own latest love. I had loved long, and often, and ardently, before _that_ love was born. But now that it does exist, ... and is the last....”
“Yes. If it wearies you, what hinders your exchanging me for the _Aglaia_? What hinders your becoming a subscriber to ‘The Life, Fortunes, and Business of the Kappelman Family’—in one vol., cloth gilt?”
“Quite so. When you do what Havelaar did, and the rich young man in Matthew xix. did _not_ do, I will talk about you.”
Chresos lived in Bœotia. By profession he was mayor of a little village, whose name I do not know, neither can I tell you how he had strayed into Bœotia, since his family belonged to Athens—nay, I think he was even related to Alcibiades, who was a Frenchman born too soon. Chresos was a good sort of man, and lived contentedly. He looked after his village as well as he could, and amused himself, in his spare hours, by playing on the lute; but he only did this at home, and never annoyed any one with his music.
And, behold, there came robbers, who ill-treated the inhabitants of the village over which Chresos had authority. He laid aside his lute, and tried to drive the robbers away; but he was told that he ought not to have done this, because the robbers were under the protection of the magistrates in the capital.
Chresos did not believe this, because it seemed to him too bad to be credible. He continued to resist the robbers, and, their force being too great for him, he sent a messenger to Thebes, to ask for help.
Instead of help, he received for answer, that he was an unworthy mayor, and entirely incompetent to fill any office in Bœotia. He did not attempt to deny this. After having advised his villagers to have patience, he left the place with his wife and children, taking nothing with him but his lute. His house was occupied by a new mayor, who, it may be supposed, was less unworthy, in the opinion of the Theban magistrates, and who, also, seemed to be on very good terms with the very robbers whom the stupid Chresos had wanted to exterminate. At any rate, there were no more complaints of violence, although the robbers still remained in the neighbourhood.