An _Ape_ and a _Fox_.
Upon the Decease of a _Lyon_ of Late Famous Memory, the Beasts Met in
Council to Chuse a King. There were Several Put up; but One was not
of a Make for a _King_, Another Wanted either Brains, or Strength, or
Stature, or Humour, or something else; but in fine, the _Buffoon-Ape_
with his Grimaces and Gamboles, carry’d it from the Whole Field by I know
not how many Voices. The _Fox_ (being one of the Pretenders) Stomach’d
it Extreamly to see the Choice go against him, and presently Rounds the
_New-Elect_ in the Ear, with a piece of Secret Service that he could do
him. Sir, says he, I have Discover’d some Hidden Treasure Yonder: But
’tis a Royalty that belongs to Your Majesty, and I have nothing to do
with it. So he Carry’d the _Ape_ to take Possession: And what should This
Treasure be, but a Bait in a Ditch. The _Ape_ layes his Hand upon’t,
and the Trap springs and Catches him by the Fingers. _Ah Thou Perfidious
Wretch_, cries the _Ape_! Or thou simple Prince, rather, replies the
_Fox_. You a Governour of Others, with a Vengeance, that han’t Wit enough
to look to your own Fingers.
The MORAL.
_Governours should be Men of Business rather then Pleasure. There’s
One Great Folly in Making an Ill Choice of a Ruler, and Another in the
Acceptance of it; for it Exposes Authority to Scorn._