A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. āDo I look like a fool?ā said the frog.Ā āYouād sting me if I let you on my back!ā
āBe logical,ā said the scorpion.Ā āIf I stung you Iād certainly drown myself.ā
āThatās true,ā the frog acknowledged.Ā āClimb aboard, then!ā But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown. āWhy on earth did you do that?ā the frog said morosely. āNow weāre both going to die.āĀ
āI canāt help it,ā said the scorpion. āItās my nature.ā
ā¦But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the frog felt a subtle motion on its back, and in a panic dived deep beneath the rushing waters, leaving the scorpion to drown.
āIt was going to sting me anyway,ā muttered the frog, emerging on the other side of the river. āIt was inevitable. You all knew it. Everyone knows what those scorpions are like. It was self-defense.ā
ā¦But no sooner had they cast off from the bank, the frog felt the tip of a stinger pressed lightly against the back of its neck. āWhat do you think youāre doing?ā said the frog.
āJust a precaution,ā said the scorpion. āI cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fairās fair, isnāt it?ā
They swam in silence to the other end of the river, where the scorpion climbed off, leaving the frog fuming.
āAfter the kindness I showed you!ā said the frog. āAnd you threatened to kill me in return?ā
āKindness?ā said the scorpion. āTo only invite me on your back after you knew I was defenseless, unable to use my tail without killing myself? My dear frog, I only treated you as I was treated. Your kindness was as poisoned as a scorpionās sting.ā
ā¦āJust a precaution,ā said the scorpion. āI cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fairās fair, isnāt it?ā
āYou have a point,ā the frog acknowledged. āBut once we get to dry land, couldnāt you sting me then without repercussion?ā
āAll I want is to cross the river safely,ā said the scorpion. āOnce Iām on the other side I would gladly let you be.ā
āBut I would have to trust you on that,ā said the frog.Ā āWhile youāre pressing a stinger to my neck. By ferrying you to land Iād be be giving up the one deterrent I hold over you.ā
āBut by the same logic, I canāt possibly withdraw my stinger while weāre still over water,ā the scorpion protested.
The frog paused in the middle of the river, treading water. āSo, I suppose weāre at an impasse.ā
The river rushed around them. The scorpionās stinger twitched against the frogās unbroken skin. āI suppose so,ā the scorpion said.
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. āAbsolutely not!ā said the frog, and dived beneath the waters, and so none of them learned anything.
A scorpion, being unable to swim, asked a turtle (as in the original Persian version of the fable) to carry it across the river. The turtle readily agreed, and allowed the scorpion aboard its shell. Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtleās thick shell. The turtle, swimming placidly, failed to notice.
They reached the other side of the river, and parted ways as friends.
ā¦Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtleās thick shell.
The turtle, hearing the tap of the scorpionās sting, was offended at the scorpionās ungratefulness. Thankfully, having been granted the powers to both defend itself and to punish evil, the turtle sank beneath the waters and drowned the scorpion out of principle.
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. āDo I look like a fool?ā sneered the frog. āYouād sting me if I let you on my back.ā
The scorpion pleaded earnestly. āDo you think so little of me? Please, I must cross the river. What would I gain from stinging you? I would only end up drowning myself!ā
āThatās true,ā the frog acknowledged. āEven a scorpion knows to look out for its own skin. Climb aboard, then!ā
But as they forged through the rushing waters, the scorpion grew worried. This frog thinks me a ruthless killer, it thought. Would it not be justified in throwing me off now and ridding the world of me? Why else would it agree to this? Every jostle made the scorpion more and more anxious, until the frog surged forward with a particularly large splash, and in panic the scorpion lashed out with its stinger.
āI knew it,ā snarled the frog, as they both thrashed and drowned. āA scorpion cannot change its nature.ā
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. The frog agreed, but no sooner than they were halfway across the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown.
āIāve only myself to blame,ā sighed the frog, as they both sank beneath the waters. āYou, youāre a scorpion, I couldnāt have expected anything better. But I knew better, and yet I went against my judgement! And now Iāve doomed us both!ā
āYou couldnāt help it,ā said the scorpion mildly. āItās your nature.āĀ
ā¦āWhy on earth did you do that?ā the frog said morosely. āNow weāre both going to die.ā
āAlas, I was of two natures,ā said the scorpion. āOne said to gratefully ride your back across the river, and the other said to sting you where you stood. And so both fought, and neither won.ā It smiled wistfully. āAh, it would be nice to be just one thing, wouldnāt it? Unadulterated in nature. Without the capacity for conflict or regret.ā
āBy the way,ā said the frog, as they swam, āIāve been meaning to ask: Whatās on the other side of the river?ā
āItās the journey,ā said the scorpion. āNot the destination.ā
ā¦āWhatās on the other side of anything?ā said the scorpion. āA new beginning.ā
ā¦āAnother scorpion to mate with,ā said the scorpion. āAnd more prey to kill, and more living bodies to poison, and a forthcoming lineage of cruelties that you will be culpable in.ā
ā¦āNothing we will live to see, I fear,ā said the scorpion. āAlready the currents are growing stronger, and the river seems like it shall swallow us both. We surge forward, and the shoreline recedes. But does that mean our striving was in vain?ā
āI love you,ā said the scorpion.
The frog glanced upward. āDo you?ā
āAbsolutely. Can you imagine the fear of drowning? Of course not. Youāre a frog. Might as well be scared of breathing air. And yet here I am, clinging to your back, as the waters rage around us. Isnāt that love? Isnāt that trust? Isnāt that necessity? I could not kill you without killing myself. Are we not inseparable in this?ā
The frog swam on, the both of them silent.
āIām so tired,ā murmured the frog eventually. āHow much further to the other side? I donāt know how long weāve been swimming. Iāve been treading water. And itās getting so very dark.ā
āShh,ā the scorpion said. āDonāt be afraid.ā
The frogās legs kicked out weakly. āHow long has it been? Weāre lost. Weāre lost! Weāre doomed to be cast about the waters forever. There is no land. Thereās nothing on the other side, donāt you see!ā
āShh, shh,ā said the scorpion. āMy venom is a hallucinogenic. Beneath its surface, the river is endlessly deep, its currents carrying many things.āĀ
āYou - Youāve killed us both,ā said the frog, and began to laugh deliriously.Ā āIs this - is this what itās like to drown?āĀ
āWeāve killed each other,ā said the scorpion soothingly. āMy venom in my glands now pulsing through your veins, the waters of your birthing pool suffusing my lungs. We are engulfing each other now, drowning in each other. I am breathless. Do you feel it? Do you feel my sting pierced through your heart?ā
āWhat a foolish thing to do,ā murmured the frog. āNo logic. No logic to it at all.ā
āWe couldnāt help it,ā whispered the scorpion. āItās our natures. Why else does anything in the world happen? Because we were made for this from birth, darling, every moment inexplicable and inevitable. What a crazy thing it is to fall in love, and yet - Itās all our fault! We are both blameless. Weāre together now, darling. It couldnāt have happened any other way.ā
āItās funny,ā said the frog. āI canāt say that I trust you, really. Or that I even think very much of you and that nasty little stinger of yours to begin with. But Iām doing this for you regardless. Itās strange, isnāt it? Itās strange. Why would I do this? I want to help you, want to go out of my way to help you. I let you climb right onto my back! Now, whyever would I go and do a foolish thing like that?ā
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. āDo I look like a fool?ā said the frog. āYouād sting me if I let you on my back!ā
āBe logical,ā said the scorpion. āIf I stung you Iād certainly drown myself.ā Ā
āThatās true,ā the frog acknowledged. āCome aboard, then!ā But no sooner had the scorpion mounted the frogās back than it began to sting, repeatedly, while still safely on the riverās bank.
The frog groaned, thrashing weakly as the venom coursed through its veins, beginning to liquefy its flesh. āAh,ā it muttered.Ā āFor some reason I never considered this possibility.ā
āBecause you were never scared of me,ā the scorpion whispered in its ear.Ā āYou were never scared of dying. In a past life you wore a shell and sat in judgement. And then you were reborn: soft-skinned, swift, unburdened, as new and vulnerable as a child, moving anew through a world of children. How could anyone ever be cruel, you thought, seeing the precariousness of it all?ā The scorpion bowed its head and drank. āHow could anyone kill you without killing themselves?ā