angrily thought: "What! Under my very eyes this wretched creature looks upon the king!" And he undertook to drive him away.
But when the bee, for all his efforts, continued to approach the king, the monkey went blind with rage, drew his sword, and fetched a blow at the bee—a blow that split the king's head.
And the queen, who was sleeping beside him, started up in terror, screaming when she beheld the incomprehensible fact: "You fool! You monkey! The king trusted you. How could you do it?"
Then the monkey told what had happened, after which everybody, by common consent, scolded him and shunned him.
"So there is reason in saying that one should not make friends with a fool, inasmuch as the monkey killed the king. Indeed, that is why I say:
To foes of sense, not foolish friends,
'Tis wiser far to cling:
The robber for his victims died;
The monkey killed the king."
And Cheek continued:
"Where your sort have the final word,
By whom friends' enmities are stirred,
Whose wisdom lies in tricky traps,
All efforts end in sad mishaps.
And again:
The saint, however deep his need,
Still shuns the guilt of evil deed;
