Story of a Glutton

In company with some religious mendicants I entered a date-grove in Busra. One of the party was a glutton. He, having girt his loins, climbed up a tree, and, falling headlong, died.

The headsman of the village asked, “Who killed this man?”

“Go softly, friend,” I answered; “he fell from a branch—’twas the weight of his stomach.”