Myth of the Archer and the Nightingale

There was once a certain Archer who, rather than bagging his preferred game of venison, captured a small bird in his net, named Philomela [Nightingale], and was going to kill her without a second thought; but the bird had been granted the gift of gab, and thus spoke out:

“What good do you get, Oh Man, in killing me? I would not even come close to filling your greedy stomach, and the little flesh I have is tough and coarse. However, if you release me, I will give you three bits of advice which, if applied diligently, will be highly useful to you.”

The bowman, truly stupefied to hear a commonplace nightingale speak such perfect phrases and clear-cut clauses, promised immediately to release the loquacious featherling, if she would divulge her advice.

“Then hear me!” said she, perching upon a branch. “Never seek to acquire a thing that cannot be acquired: this is the first piece of advice I offer. Hear the second! Never allow yourself to sorrow over something that is irrecoverable; this is nothing but fruitless fretting. And at last, hear the third! Never believe words that are unbelievable, no matter how desirable they seem. If you guard well my three maxims as if they were your greatest treasure, then good will come to you.”

The man then, as promised, released the sagacious little Philomena to fly free through the woodsy air with a taunting flutter, singing:

“Hahaha! Shame on you, foolish Man! What poor counsel you’ve taken and what a great Treasure you’ve lost today, thanks to your foolishness: know, that I have in my belly a Pearl, greater in size than the egg of an ostrich. But I'm lost to you for good. Too bad for you!” And she continued flying in circles around the tree where she had been snared.

The Archer, upon hearing this, was filled with rage and sadness over this loss. He spread his net again between two branches of the tree in attempt to catch the nightingale again.

"Come," says he in a soft voice, "I will take you to my home and I will show you all hospitality; I will feed you from my own hands as much as you want to eat, and allow you to fly about at will."

“Well,” said Philomela, “now I know you for certain to be an idiot, retaining none of the lessons from the counsel I first gave you. Firstly, because you whined and bemoaned my loss, irrecoverable—and then, you tried to re-catch me in the same stupid net, not really knowing how to re-catch me. Oh, and as to the huge size of this Pearl you believed I could contain in my belly—when my whole body is not so large as the egg of an ostrich! Pretty unbelievable. The conclusion is that you are an Idiot, and will remain forever ensnared in your Idiocy. Now go away!”

The man gave up, having met more than his match. A shameful, nearly nauseous sensation welled-up from his heart and into his esophagus like a foul belch. This was EMBARRASSMENT.

And so, the beaten bowman slunk away to his domicile, Philomela undefeated, chirping poetically. A force of nature.

THE END