And ask’d about the water’s taste,
If it was plentiful and sweet?
At which the Fox, in rank deceit,
“So great the solace of the run,
I thought I never should have done.
Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown.”
This said, the silly Goat comes down.
The subtle Fox herself avails,
And by his horns the mound she scales,
And leaves the Goat in all the mire,