Second Proclamation
“Citizens, while you were asleep you were being betrayed, but friends were watching for you. Too long had we bowed our heads without murmuring; the time had come for us to assert our dignity. The traitors who governed and sold you breathe no more! The records of our nation will teach the world how the animal kingdom redresses its wrongs. During this hour justice has been executed, the work is finished, the culprits have paid with their lives the penalty of their guilt—they have been hanged!
“N.B.—Out of sacred regard for our ancestors who suffered the extreme penalty of the law, they have been hanged on new gibbets.
“THE FOX.”
The Cock listened unmoved to the reading of this second document.
“But,” said the Monkey, “my lord, we are not hanged.”
“Are you really thinking of hanging us?” cried the Parroquet, weeping at the prospect.
“No,” replied the Fox, “it is a proceeding I do not care to carry out, only you must appear to have been hanged.”
The shouts of the populace outside could be plainly heard, demanding the heads of the editors.
“Patience,” replied the Fox, addressing the people from time to time—“patience, if you are wise. You shall have some medals to commemorate this event. [Aside.] To refuse nothing, and to give nothing, is the way to govern wisely and well.”
The shouts, “Death to the tyrants!” “Death to the editors!” redoubled.
“You hear, gentlemen,” said the Fox. “It is necessary to do something for the people; yet,” he added, “if you can find means to deceive them by preserving your lives, you may do so.”
“Means!” screamed the Monkey; “I have found them,” and in his joy he turned three somersaults.
Mr. Monkey had got possession of the stuffed body of an ancestor, no doubt with the intention of honouring his race. He at once produced the relic, and it was decided that this defunct relative should figure on the gibbet in place of his erring descendant. To better deceive the multitude, before sending the mummy to martyrdom the Monkey attired it in his coat and well-known cap; this he did, not without tokens of genuine grief.
“Now, my dear sir,” continued the Fox, “you must seek retirement for fifteen days, after which I think you may venture to show yourself again. There is no dead man or monkey who in Belle France has not the right to come to life audaciously at the end of a fortnight. The people are the most magnanimous of enemies—they forget everything.”
“They are also the most fickle friends,” replied the Ape; then, casting a last fond look on his boxes, his table, and his office, he vanished.
The Parroquet found means of communicating with an old friend, an ardent admirer of his talent, who volunteered to be hanged in his stead. A quarter of an hour after the execution, the ungrateful Parroquet was joking with his wife about the folly of martyrdom.
The Cock, who remained true to his principles, suffered death, much to the regret of a numerous circle of female admirers.
The crowd, drawn together with the view of seeing such mighty personages dangling in the air, had its wish gratified. Some silent worshippers of the illustrious dead could scarcely believe their eyes.
“Is it possible,” they said, “that animals of such influence can be hanged like common felons? What is the world coming to? They, only the other day, seemed to be the mainsprings of life!”
A bird whose name remains unknown published a pamphlet on this subject, in which he developed this proposition: “Is it good that he who governs is not the State? for should misfortune befall him, there would be an end to the State.”
After the executions had taken place the Fox thought proper to make the two proclamations public, and being in a mood for proclamations, issued a third.