A Story

I heard that at a feast of drunken Turks, a disciple smashed the musician's tambourine and harp. The servants dragged him by the hair like a harp, and slapped his face as one strikes a drum. That night he couldn't sleep from the pain of the beating and the blows; the next day his elder gave him this lesson: If you don't want your face bruised like a drum, then bow your head low like a harp, my brother.