“What may this tiny thing be that is so dreadful?” asked the Lion, sneeringly.
“The Serpent,” answered the Goat, chewing his cud with an indifferent air.
“The Serpent!” said the Lion, astounded. “What, that crawling reptile, which feeds on mice and sleeping birds—that soft, vine-like, creeping thing that coils itself in tufts of grass, and branches of bush?”
“Yes, that is its name and character clearly.”
“Why, my weight alone would tread it until it became flat like a smashed egg.”
“I would not try to do so if I were you. Its fangs are sharper than your great corner teeth or claws.”
“Will you match it against my strength?”
“Yes.”
“And if you lose, what will be the forfeit?”
“If you survive the fight, I will be your slave, and you may command me for any purpose you please. But what will you give me if you lose?”