Cobwebs from an Empty Skull

The King of Persia had a favourite hawk.  One day his Majesty was hunting, and had become separated from his attendants.  Feeling thirsty, he sought a stream of water trickling from a rock; took a cup, and pouring some liquor into it from his pocket-flask, filled it up with water, and raised it to his lips.  The hawk, who had been all this time hovering about, swooped down, screaming “No, you don’t!” and upset the cup with his wing.

“I know what is the matter,” said the King:  “there is a dead serpent in the fountain above, and this faithful bird has saved my life by not permitting me to drink the juice.  I must reward him in the regular way.”

So he called a page, who had thoughtfully presented himself, and gave directions to have the Remorse Apartments of the palace put in order, and for the court tailor to prepare an evening suit of sackcloth-and-ashes.  Then summoning the hawk, he seized and dashed him to the ground, killing him very dead.  Rejoining his retinue, he dispatched an officer to remove the body of the serpent from the fountain, lest somebody else should get poisoned.  There wasn’t any serpent—­the water was remarkable for its wholesome purity!

Then the King, cheated of his remorse, was sorry he had slain the bird; he said it was a needless waste of power to kill a bird who merely deserved killing.  It never occurred to the King that the hawk’s touching solicitude was with reference to the contents of the royal flask.

Fabula ostendit that a “twice-told tale” needs not necessarily be “tedious”; a reasonable degree of interest may be obtained by intelligently varying the details.