A raven carried off in his talons a piece of poisoned meat, which an enraged gardener had thrown out for his neighbor’s cats. And he was just about to consume it in an old oak tree when a fox crept up and called out to him: “Blessings upon you, bird of Jupiter!”
“Whom do you take me for?” asked the raven. “Whom do I take you for?” replied the fox. “Are you not the mighty eagle who descends daily from the right hand of Zeus onto this oak to feed poor me? Why do you disguise yourself? Do I not see in your victorious talon the prayed-for gift that your god continues to send me through you?”
The raven was astonished and deeply delighted to be taken for an eagle. “I must not,” he thought, “disabuse the fox of this error.” Generously foolish, he dropped his prey down to him and flew proudly away.
The fox caught the meat with a laugh and devoured it with malicious joy. But soon that joy turned into a painful sensation; the poison began to work, and he died miserably.
May you never praise yourselves into anything other than poison, damned flatterers!