KING MUFFLER. "It is no new thing," remarked the king, "for crafty creatures to get the simple to begin a foolish quarrel."
"True, O king, and the crafty gain their end by seeming to be in the right."
"If not found out," said Muffler. "Crafticus," he added, indignantly, "such trickery, if practised by all my subjects, would break up my mighty realm. And, besides, you showed no mercy. I do therefore sentence you to be struck down by the lion Thunderpeal, my grumbling uncle, or, if you choose, to be torn in pieces by the tiger Clawnailia, my cruel cousin, or to the mercy of anyone as cruel-hearted as yourself, and if you can escape their terrible clutches, good and well. I am sorry for you, and I am doubly sorry that talent like yours should be so much abused."
"I bow to your will, O King," said Crafticus meekly.
The fox's wife and children now came forward to bid him farewell forever. They were beautiful creatures, especially the little foxes, and their cries were heart-rending. They looked wistfully into the eyes of the condemned Crafticus, and placed their heads gently and affectionately beside his drooping head.
When Thunderpeal advanced by the counsellor's request to separate them, he had much difficulty in pushing them away, and king Muffler's big heart was touched with sorrow.
Then Crafticus stood alone by the side of Thunderpeal, who waited impatiently the signal to strike him down.
"O king," said Crafticus, "may I speak one word?"