A Crow, having stolen a bit of flesh, perched in a tree, and held it in her beak¹. A Fox, seeing her, longed to possess himself of the flesh, and by a wily stratagem² succeeded. "How handsome is the Crow," he exclaimed, "in the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her complexion³! Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would deservedly be considered the Queen of Birds!" This he said deceitfully, having greater admiration⁴ for the meat than for the crow. But the Crow, all her vanity aroused by the cunning flattery, and anxious to refute the reflection cast upon her voice, set up a loud caw, and dropped the flesh. The Fox quickly picked it up, and thus addressed the Crow: "My good Crow, your voice is right enough, but your wit is wanting."

He who listens to flattery is not wise, for it has no good purpose.