"They are very good," said Gud, "but the morals in your kingdom are not."
To Gud's astonishment, the king replied meekly: "I know it."
Gud now related to the king how the very sandals had been stolen from off his feet as he slept beneath the tree.
"Oh, wise stranger," cried the king, "it grieves me much to have you, who come from a distant realm, discover that I have thus failed in the first duty of government which is the protection of property. Therefore let me make restitution for the injury done you in my kingdom."
The king now sent a lackey to his treasure vault, and he fetched Gud a pair of jeweled sandals which fitted his feet perfectly.
Gud's grief being assuaged and his anger abated, he was genuinely sorry for this stupid king, and said to him: "I have knocked about a bit and picked up a few ideas in practical politics, so perhaps I can help you."
"It is my shame and sorrow," confessed the king, "to admit to you that I rule over a realm of thieves. We were formerly proud of our talents in that direction, for at one time this kingdom was surrounded by rich neighbors and our prosperity was based on the capturing of bounteous booty from our enemies. Alas, our enemies combined and built a great ivory wall and walled us in. And now my people steal from each other. I have issued countless edicts against stealing, and even crucified a few thieves, but it avails me nothing. My people steal and are proud of it. Yet there is honor among my thieves. They are at heart law-abiding and truth-telling citizens."
"How do you know they are?" asked Gud.
"I know, because I had a census taken in which I asked each and every one if he were a thief, and all the thieves answered most truthfully that they were thieves."
"How do you know they answered truthfully?" questioned Gud, as he flecked his ash. "And if they are thieves, how can they be law-abiding citizens?"