be pleased to open the book?' The king opened it, and finding that one leaf was as it were glued to another, he put his finger to his mouth that he might turn it with the more ease. He did so till he came to the sixth leaf, and finding no writing in the place where he was bidden to look for it, 'Physician,' said he to the head, 'there is nothing written.'
'Turn over some more leaves,' replied the head. The king continued to turn over, always putting his finger to his mouth, until the poison, with which each leaf was imbrued, came to have its effect; all of a sudden he was taken with an extraordinary fit, his eyesight failed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne in violent convulsions.
When the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments to live, 'Tyrant,' it cried, 'now you see how princes are treated who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent men. Soon or late God punishes their injustice and cruelty.' Scarcely had the head spoken these words when the king fell down dead, and the head itself lost what life it had.
