a vine was luxuriant in the time of vintage with leaves and grapes. a goat, passing by, nibbled its young tendrils and its leaves. the vine addressed him and said: “why do you thus injure me without a cause, and crop my leaves? is there no young grass left? but i shall not have to wait long for my just revenge; for if you now should crop my leaves, and cut me down to my root, i shall provide the wine to pour over you when you are led as a victim to the sacrifice.”