The third and fourth captives were brought in together. One was a grasshopper, and the other a cricket.
When they were asked the customary questions as to their places of birth, the first replied, “At the roots of a bush of thyme.” And the other, “In the air!”
Then the king proceeded with: “And what arts do you know?”
“I know how to sing,” cried the cricket.
“And I, how to dance,” said the grasshopper.
“Splendid arts, truly, both the one and the other,” called out the king in a rage, and he knocked with his scepter so loudly that all his courtiers and soldiers, as well as the two prisoners, were frightened. “Since you know nothing, you are plainly of no use. I shall have you cut up, the pair of you.”
“Please, your majesty,” said the cricket boldly, while the grasshopper trembled with fear, “can we do nothing? Do we know nothing? Because this lady and myself cannot weave like the spider or make sweetmeats like the bee? We are worthy people, and the whole world loves us. We amuse all the insects on both hill and plain; we make life in the long summer days when the sun is hot a little less wearisome; then I sing, and she dances, and for those who see and hear us time soon passes. Allow us the same privilege before your majesty, and you can then judge if we be deserving of freedom or death.”
The king was not hard-hearted, and after hearing this plea of the cricket, he said, “I grant your request. I have a little time in which to divert myself, and if you can succeed in giving me pleasure in a short space of time, I will give you both your liberty, and grant you each any favor that you may ask.”
He gave orders to release them. The cricket then began to sing with all the skill that she possessed, and the grasshopper danced at the same time. Neither the king nor any of his courtiers or soldiers had ever heard so sweet a voice, or seen so artistic a dance. His majesty was delighted; his old face beamed all over, and he struck merrily with his scepter, and shouted: “Well done! Bravo! I’ll free you—I’ll free you. I only request that whenever you have the time or the inclination, you will come and amuse me and my subjects a little. Labor is good, but life wants some few pleasures also. I told you that I would grant you any favor that you asked for. Ask now what you will.” Then the cricket said pleadingly, “Your majesty, I ask this favor—that the poor spider may be released.”
“You have a good heart,” answered the king; “be it so.” And he turned to the grasshopper. “And what favor do you ask, madam dancer?”