Master crow, on a tree perched,
Held in his beak a cheese,
Master fox, by the odor attracted,
Held him with almost this language:
Well hello, Mister Crow.
You are so pretty! You seem to me beautiful!
Without lying, if your song
Is comparable to your feathers,
You are the Phoenix of these woods.
At these words, the crow was overcome with joy;
And to show his beautiful voice,
He opened his mouth wide, and dropped his prey.
The fox seized it, and said: My good mister,
Learn that every flatterer
Lives at the expense of those who listen to him.
This lesson is well worth a cheese without doubt.
The crow, ashamed and embarrassed,
Swore, but a little late, that he would never be taken again.