A vine was luxuriant in the time of vintage with leaves and grapes. A goat, passing by, nibbled its young tendrils and its leaves. The vine said:"Why do you thus injure me and crop my leaves? is there no young grass left? but I shall not have to wait long for my just revenge; for if you now crop my leaves, and cut me down to my root, I shall provide the wine to pour over you when you are led as a victim to the sacrifice." 
Retribution is certain. 