Animal Legends from Many Lands by Rose Yeatman Woolf

Author:Rose Yeatman Woolf
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dover Publications
Published: 1992-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

“When he next comes before you, you can see for yourself if he be of his usual cheerful countenance or whether in his deportment he betrays himself by tokens which your majesty will find evident enough; in which case, be on your guard and act promptly or it may be too late to save yourself.”

The mule played thus cunningly upon the lion’s cowardice and the latter, trembling, consoled himself already with the thought, “Now, my lord the bull is caught.” He bade his companion act as he had said without further delay, for the suspense was more than he could bear.

The mule lost no time in putting his intention into effect and arrived at Chiarino’s house looking as pale and despondent as though he had spent the night out in the rain.

“Your Muleship is welcome,” said the bull; “but tell me, out of the love we bear one another, what is it makes you so sad and out of sorts?”

The mule sighed, but said nothing. “Perchance the king is angry and you are out of favour, that you are thus distressed?” questioned the bull, who was aware of the mule’s ambitions.

“My good friend!” cried the other, “your guess is in a sense inspired, for the king is angry; but not through me or by my means, I assure you. I shall tell you of this matter, because of this bond we swore between us, though it is a painful story for me to repeat. It chanced that two goats, trusty old friends of mine, called to see me. In the course of conversation, not knowing that you and I were, so to speak, but one in the bond of friendship, they mentioned that they had heard in confidence, from a reliable source, that the king is furious with you. He called you a lazy, unprofitable body, brought into the world to fill your paunch at his cost, and declared that since your life was of no service to him he would at least benefit himself by your death.

“When I heard these words,” continued the mule, “you can imagine that my hair stood on end, and I could not choose but come and tell you, for I think you have been betrayed. So, good Chiarino, look well to yourself; but by everything you hold sacred, not a word of this as you value my life and yours. If you betray this confidence, the fat will be in the fire and the soup will be spilled and cast on my poor back.”

When Chiarino heard these words he stood aghast; then, bethinking himself of his faithful and arduous service to the king, he concluded that someone had wrought some knavery against him.

“It surprises me that his grace permits himself to be deceived by some vile tongue,” said he, “yet in the end I know truth will conquer. Since I came here as a beast in his royal service, I have never done aught for which my conscience can accuse me; but yet I

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