A hawk had found some nightingale chicks in a nest.
Just at that moment, the mother bird returned. "Please spare my chicks!" shrieked the nightingale. "I'll do anything you ask! Please just spare my babies!"
"I'll spare them if you sing me a beautiful song," said the hawk.
The nightingale started singing, but she was so frightened that her voice quavered as she sang.
"That was terrible," said the hawk.
He grabbed one of the chicks and was about to devour it when a hunter arrived and shot the hawk.
Those who plan destruction for others will likewise be destroyed.
Inspired by: Mille Fabulae et Una, a collection of Latin fables that I've edited, free to read online. I am not translating the Latin here; instead, I am just telling a 100-word version of the fable.
Notes: This is fable 539 in the book, which is Perry 567. In the original, the bird-hunter uses birdlime to catch the hawk; I changed it to having him shoot the hawk.