Resolving to have recourse to him, they directed their flight to the hole of Golden-skin—­a prudent monarch, who dreaded danger so much that he had made himself a palace with a hundred outlets, and lived always in it.  Sitting there he heard the descent of the pigeons, and remained silent and alarmed.

“Friend Golden-skin,” cried the King, “have you no welcome for us?”

“Ah, my friend!” said the Mouse-king, rushing out on recognizing the voice, “is it thou art come, Speckle-neck! how delightful!—­But what is this?” exclaimed he, regarding the entangled net.

“That,” said King Speckle-neck, “is the effect of some wrong-doing in a former life—­

    ’Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe
    Spring from wrongs wrought long ago,’[5]

Golden-skin, without replying, ran at once to the net, and began to gnaw the strings that held Speckle-neck.

“Nay! friend, not so,” said the King, “cut me first these meshes from my followers, and afterwards thou shalt sever mine.”

“I am little,” answered Golden-skin, “and my teeth are weak—­how can I gnaw so much?  No! no!  I will nibble your strings as long as my teeth last, and afterwards do my best for the others.  To preserve dependents by sacrificing oneself is nowhere enjoined by wise moralists; on the contrary—­

    ’Keep wealth for want, but spend-it for thy wife,
    And wife, and wealth, and all to guard thy life,’

“Friend,” replied King Speckle-neck, “that may be the rule of policy, but I am one that can by no means bear to witness the distress of those who depend on me, for—­

    ’Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give
    Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live,’

And you know the verse,

    ’Friend, art thou faithful? guard mine honor so! 
    And let the earthy rotting body go,’”

When King Golden-skin heard this answer his heart was charmed, and his fur bristled up for pure pleasure.  “Nobly spoken, friend,” said he, “nobly spoken! with such a tenderness for those that look to thee, the Sovereignty of the Three Worlds might be fitly thine.”  So saying he set himself to cut all their bonds.  This done, and the pigeons extricated, the King of the Mice[6] gave them his formal welcome.  “But, your Majesty,” he said, “this capture in the net was a work of destiny; you must not blame yourself as you did, and suspect a former fault.  Is it not written—­

    ’Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noon-day skies,
    Even thence the Eagle’s vision kens the carcase where it lies;
    But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,
    And he rushes, madly blinded, to his ruin in the snare,’”

With this correction Golden-skin proceeded to perform the duties of hospitality, and afterwards, embracing and dismissing them, the pigeons left for such destination as they fancied, and the King of the Mice retired again into his hole.