Scip. I do not see the application.

Berg. Is it not very manifest, since I was rendered mute many times by the negress’s gifts, and was careful not to bark when she came down to meet her amorous negro?  Wherefore I repeat, that great is the power of gifts.

Scip. I have already admitted it; and were it not to avoid too long a digression, I could adduce many instances in point; but I will speak of these another time, if heaven grants me an opportunity of narrating my life to you.

Berg. God grant it! meanwhile I continue.  At last my natural integrity prevailed over the negress’s bribes; and one very dark night, when she came down as usual, I seized her without barking, in order not to alarm the household; and in a trice I tore her shift all to pieces, and bit a piece out of her thigh.  This little joke confined her for eight days to her bed, for which she accounted to her masters by some pretended illness or other.  When she was recovered, she came down another night:  I attacked her again; and without biting, scratched her all over as if I had been carding wool.  Our battles were always noiseless, and the negress always had the worst of them; but she had her revenge.  She stinted my rations and my bones, and those of my own body began to show themselves through my skin.  But though she cut short my victuals, that did not hinder me from barking; so to make an end of me altogether, she threw me a sponge fried in grease.  I perceived the snare, and knew that what she offered me was worse than poison, for it would swell up in the stomach, and never leave it with life.  Judging then that it was impossible for me to guard against the insidious attacks of such a base enemy, I resolved to get out of her sight, and put some space between her and me.  One day, I found myself at liberty, and without bidding adieu to any of the family, I went into the street; and before I had gone a hundred paces, I fell in with the alguazil I mentioned in the beginning of my story, as being a great friend of my first master Nicholas the butcher.  He instantly knew me, and called me by my name.  I knew him too, and went up to him with my usual ceremonies and caresses.  He took hold of me by the neck, and said to his men, “This is a famous watch-dog, formerly belonging to a friend of mine:  let us bring him home.”  The men said, if I was a watch-dog, I should be of great use to them all, and they wanted to lay hold on me to lead me along; but the alguazil said, it was not necessary, for I knew him, and would follow him.  I forgot to tell you, that the spiked collar I wore when I ran away from the flock was stolen from me at an inn by a gipsy, and I went without one in Seville; but my new master put on me a collar all studded with brass.  Only consider, Scipio, this change in my fortunes, Yesterday I was a student, and to-day I found myself a bailiff.

Scip. So wags the world, and you need not exaggerate the vicissitudes of fortune, as if there were any difference between the service of a butcher and that of a bailiff.  I have no patience when I hear some persons rail at fortune, whose highest hopes never aspired beyond the life of a stable-boy.  How they curse their ill-luck, and all to make the hearers believe that they have known better days, and have fallen from some high estate.