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The Peacock was greatly discontented because he had not a

beautiful voice like the nightingale, and he went and complained

to Juno about it. "The nightingale's song," said he, "is the envy

of all the birds; but whenever I utter a sound I become a

laughing-stock." The goddess tried to console him by saying, "You

have not, it is true, the power of song, but then you far excel

all the rest in beauty: your neck flashes like the emerald and

your splendid tail is a marvel of gorgeous colour." But the

Peacock was not appeased. "What is the use," said he, "of being

beautiful, with a voice like mine?" Then Juno replied, with a

shade of sternness in her tones, "Fate has allotted to all their

destined gifts: to yourself beauty, to the eagle strength, to the

nightingale song, and so on to all the rest in their degree; but

you alone are dissatisfied with your portion. Make, then, no more

complaints. For, if your present wish were granted, you would

quickly find cause for fresh discontent."