Quicquid delirant Reges

IT was the Custome of the Thracians once,
Ere they would ore a frozen river passe,
To take a Fox, and turne him for the Nonce,
Vpon the Ice, to try how thick it was,
Who to the streame, by laieng downe his eare,
Could heare the noise, and know the thicknes there.

Which if he found to tender for his weight,
He back returnd, and thankt them, he would none,
Which sheweth vs of some, the subtile sleight,
Who hazard first, the poore, and weaker one
To serue their turnes, whome God preserueth oft,
When they themselues, within the pit are caught.