A FOWLER, taking his bird-lime and his twigs, went out to catch birds.
Seeing a thrush sitting upon a tree, he wished to take it, and fitting
his twigs to a proper length, watched intently, having his whole
thoughts directed towards the sky. While thus looking upwards, he
unknowingly trod upon a Viper asleep just before his feet. The Viper,
turning about, stung him, and falling into a swoon, the man said to
himself, “Woe is me! that while I purposed to hunt another, I am myself
fallen unawares into the snares of death.”