A _Lyon_ and a _Goat_.
A _Lyon_ spy’d a _Goat_ upon the Crag of a High Rock, and so call’d out
to him after this Manner: Hadst not thou better come Down now, says the
_Lyon_, into This Delicate Fine Meadow? Well, says the _Goat_, and so
perhaps I would, if it were not for the _Lyon_ that’s there Before me:
But I’m for a Life of Safety, rather then for a Life of Pleasure. Your
Pretence is the Filling of My Belly with Good Grass; but your Bus’ness
is the Cramming of your Own Guts with Good _Goats-Flesh_: So that ’tis
for your Own Sake, not Mine, that you’d have me come down.
The MORAL.
_There’s no Trusting to the Formal Civilities and Invitations of an
Enemy, and his Reasonings are but Snares when he pretends to Advise us
for our Good._