A FOWLER, taking his bird-lime and his twigs1, went out to catch

　　birds. Seeing a thrush sitting upon a tree, he wished to take

　　it, and fitting his twigs to a proper length, watched intently,

　　having his whole thoughts directed towards the sky. While thus

　　looking upwards2, he unknowingly trod upon a Viper3 asleep just

　　before his feet. The Viper, turning about, stung him, and

　　falling into a swoon, the man said to himself, "Woe4 is me! that

　　while I purposed to hunt another, I am myself fallen unawares

　　into the snares5 of death."