To celebrate it I ordered my steward to bring me a very fat cow to
sacrifice. He did so. The cow that he brought was my unfortunate slave.
I bound her, but just as I was about to kill her she began to low
most piteously, and I saw that her eyes were streaming with tears.
It seemed to me most extraordinary, and, feeling a movement of pity,
I ordered the steward to lead her away and bring another. My wife,
who was present, scoffed at my compassion, which made her malice
of no avail. "What are you doing?" she cried. "Kill this cow.
It is the best we have to sacrifice."

To please her, I tried again, but again the animal's lows and tears
disarmed me.

"Take her away," I said to the steward, "and kill her; I cannot."

The steward killed her, but on skinning her found that she was
nothing but bones, although she appeared so fat. I was vexed.

"Keep her for yourself," I said to the steward, "and if you have
a fat calf, bring that in her stead."

In a short time he brought a very fat calf, which, although I did
not know it, was my son. It tried hard to break its cord and come
to me. It threw itself at my feet, with its head on the ground,
as if it wished to excite my pity, and to beg me not to take away
its life.

I was even more surprised and touched at this action than I had
been at the tears of the cow.