A Workman was cutting down a Tree to make Wedges of it. Well! says the Tree, I cannot but be extreamly troubled at the Thought of what I am now a doing; and I do not so much complain neither, of the Ax that does the Execution, as of the Man that guides it; but it is Misery that I am to be destroy’d by the Fruit of my own Body.
Nothing goes nearer a Man in his Misfortunes, than to find himself undone by his own folly, or but any way accessary to his own Ruin.
Source: L'Estrange 47.
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