The Fly and the Mule

2.16. De musca et mulo
Caxton: Of the mule and of the flye
Somme maken grete menaces / whiche haue no myghte / Wherof Esope reherceth suche a fable / Of a carter / whiche ladde a Charyot or carte / whiche a Mule drewe forthe / And by cause the Mule wente not fast ynough / the flye sayd to the Mule / Ha a payllart Mule / why goost thow not faster / I shalle soo egrely pryke the / that I shalle make the to go lyghtely / And the Mule answerd to the flye / god kepe and preserue the mone fro the wolues / For I haue no grete drede ne fere of the / But I drede and doubte sore my mayster / whiche is vpon me / whiche constrayneth me to fulfylle his wylle / And more I oughte to drede and doubte hym more / that the / whiche arte mought / and of no valewe ne myght /
And thus men ought not to sette by ne doubte them / whiche haue no myght ne that ben of no valewe
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The Mule, The Fly, and the Driver

THE MULE, THE FLY, AND THE DRIVER. You will find the fable in English on this page; scroll to see if there are multiple English versions. [more info]

The Fly and the Mule

3.06. THE FLY AND THE MULE. A Fly sat on the pole of a chariot, and rebuking the Mule: “How slow you are,” said she; “will you not go faster? Take care that I don’t prick your neck with my sting.” The Mule made answer: “I am not moved by your words, but I fear him who, sitting on the next seat, guides my yoke with his pliant whip, and governs my mouth with the foam-covered reins. Therefore, cease your frivolous impertinence, for I well know when to go at a gentle pace, and when to run.”
In this Fable, he may be deservedly ridiculed, who, without any strength, gives utterance to vain threats. [more info]

The Fly and the Mule

3.05. THE FLY AND THE MULE.
A Fly that sat upon the beam Rated the
Mule: “Why, sure you dream?
Pray get on faster with the cart
Or I shall sting you till you smart!”
She answers: “All this talk I hear
With small attention, but must fear
Him who upon the box sustains
The pliant whip, and holds the reins.
Cease then your pertness—for I know
When to give back, and when to go.”
This tale derides the talking crew,
Whose empty threats are all they do. [more info]

The Coach and the Fly

07.10: THE COACH AND THE FLY.
Upon a sandy, uphill road,
Which naked in the sunshine glow'd,
Six lusty horses drew a coach.
Dames, monks, and invalids, its load,
On foot, outside, at leisure trode.
The team, all weary, stopp'd and blow'd:
Whereon there did a fly approach,
And, with a vastly business air.
Cheer'd up the horses with his buzz,—
Now pricked them here, now prick'd them there,
As neatly as a jockey does,—
And thought the while—he knew 'twas so—
He made the team and carriage go,—
On carriage-pole sometimes alighting—
Or driver's nose—and biting.
And when the whole did get in motion,
Confirm'd and settled in the notion,
He took, himself, the total glory,—
Flew back and forth in wondrous hurry,
And, as he buzz'd about the cattle,
Seem'd like a sergeant in a battle,
The files and squadrons leading on
To where the victory is won.
Thus charged with all the commonweal,
This single fly began to feel
Responsibility too great,
And cares, a grievous crushing weight;
And made complaint that none would aid
The horses up the tedious hill—
The monk his prayers at leisure said—
Fine time to pray!—the dames, at will,
Were singing songs—not greatly needed!
Thus in their ears he sharply sang,
And notes of indignation ran,—
Notes, after all, not greatly heeded.
Erelong the coach was on the top:
'Now,' said the fly, 'my hearties, stop
And breathe;—I've got you up the hill;
And Messrs. Horses, let me say,
I need not ask you if you will
A proper compensation pay.'
Thus certain ever-bustling noddies
Are seen in every great affair;
Important, swelling, busy-bodies,
And bores 'tis easier to bear
Than chase them from their needless care.
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