The Servant and the King's Anger

In anger, a servant turned his back on the king; the king ordered a search, but no one could find him. When the king returned from the road of rage and conflict, he told the executioner: spill his blood. The merciless executioner, thirsting for blood, drew out his blade like a thirsty tongue. I heard that from his wounded, aching heart the servant said: God, I forgive him for my blood. For I have always lived in comfort, ease, and honor, contented under his good fortune. Let it never happen that tomorrow they hold him guilty of my blood, and his enemy rejoices at it. When his words reached the king's ears, the cauldron of the king's anger no longer boiled. The king gave him much and kissed his eyes; he became lord of banner, drum, and war-horn. Through gentleness, fate carried him from that terrifying place up to such high rank. The point of this story is that soft speech is like water upon the fire of an angry man. Be humble, my friend, before a fierce opponent, for gentleness dulls the cutting blade. Don't you see that against sword and arrow, men wear armor of a hundred layers of silk?