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THE DOVE.
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of the king, where the cooks, being in want of help as they had so much to do, took her as kitchen-boy. And when the appointed morning was come, at the hour when the Sun displays upon the counter of heaven the certificates given him by Nature, sealed with light, and sells secrets for sharpening the sight, the bride arrived with the sound of flutes and trumpets. Then the tables were set out, and they all took their seats; and just as the dishes were showering down, and the carver was cutting up a large English pie, which Filadoro had made with her own hands, lo! out flew such a beautiful dove, that the guests in their astonishment forgetting to eat, fell to admiring the pretty bird, which said to the prince in a piteous voice, "Have you eaten the brains of a cat, O prince, that you have so soon forgotten the love of Filadoro? have all the services you received from her, ungrateful man, gone from your memory? is it thus you repay the benefits she has done you,—she who took you out of the claws of the ogress, and gave you life and her own self too? is this the return you make to the unhappy maiden for all the love she has shown you? tell her to get up and be off! bid her pick this bone until the roast-meat come. Woe to the woman that trusts too much to the words of men, who ever requite kindness with ingratitude, benefits with thanklessness,