A _Lyon_, _Fox_, and a _Wolfe_.
The King of Beasts was now grown Old, and Sickly, and All the Subjects of
the Forrest, (saving only the _Fox_) were to pay their Duties to him. The
_Wolfe_, and the _Fox_ like a Couple of Sly Knaves, were still putting
Tricks One upon Another, and the _Wolfe_ took this Occasion to do the
_Fox_ a Good Office. I can Assure your Majesty, says the _Wolfe_, that
’tis Nothing but Pride and Insolence that keeps the _Fox_ from shewing
himself at Court as well as his Companions. Now the _Fox_ had the Good
Luck to be within Hearing, and so Presented himself before the _Lyon_,
and finding him Extreamly Enrag’d, begs his Majesties Patience, and a
Little Time only for his Defence. Sir (says he) I must presume to Value
my self upon my Respect and Loyalty to your Majesty, Equal at least to
any of your other Subjects; and I will be bold to say, that put them all
together, they have not taken Half the pains for your Majesties Service
now upon This very Occasion, that I have done. I have been Hunting up
and down far and near, since your Unhappy Indisposition, to find out a
Remedy for ye, which with much ado I have now Compass’d at last, and it
is that which I Promised my self will prove an Infallible Cure. Tell me
immediately (says the _Lyon_) what it is then: Nothing in the World, says
the _Fox_, but to Flay a _Wolfe_ Alive, and Wrap your Body up in the
Warm Skin. The _Wolfe_ was by all This while; and the _Fox_ in a Snearing
way advised him for the Future, not to irritate a Prince against his
Subjects, but rather to Sweeten him with Peaceable and Healing Councells.
The MORAL.
_The Bus’ness of a Pickthank is the Basest of Offices, but yet Diverting
enough sometimes, when One Rascal happens to be Encounter’d with another._