He noticed the fox was missing. "Where's that sly one?" he probably grumbled. He soon found out the fox had cleverly avoided the census. Annoyed, Leviathan sent out some big, strong fish to bring the fox in.
Now, picture this: the fox is strolling along the shore, minding his own business, when he sees a huge school of fish. He's thinking, "Wow, imagine having all that fish to eat whenever I want!" The fish, sensing an opportunity, chime in. "Oh, wise fox," they say (or something equally flattering), "if you come with us, you can have all the fish you desire! And that's not all! Leviathan himself wants to honor you!"
They tell him that Leviathan is on his deathbed and wants the fox to be his successor! They even offer to carry him on their backs, nice and dry, to the throne, which sits on a big rock. The fox, initially suspicious, is slowly won over. The flattery, the promise of food, the power... it's all too tempting. He agrees and hops into the water.
But soon, a nagging feeling creeps in. Something's not right. He suspects he's the one being played. He confronts the fish. "Alright, spill it," he demands. The fish, feeling the jig is up, confess. Leviathan doesn't want to honor him; he wants to eat him! Specifically, he wants the fox's heart, believing it will make him as wise and cunning as the fox.
The fox, quick as a whip, feigns disappointment. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asks, dripping with sarcasm. "I would have brought my heart with me! King Leviathan would have showered me with honors! But, you see," he continues, with a perfectly straight face, "foxes don't carry their hearts around all the time. We keep them in a safe place, and only bring them out when we need them."
He convinces the fish that they've messed up big time by bringing him without his heart. Gullible as they are, the fish immediately swim back to shore and let the fox off, so he can "go get his heart."
As soon as the fox is back on solid ground, he starts jumping around and laughing. The fish, urging him to hurry up and get his heart, are met with more mockery. "You fools!" the fox exclaims. "Do you really think I could have survived in the water without my heart? Does anyone go anywhere without their heart?"
The fish, realizing how badly they've been duped, lamely protest, "Come on, you're just fooling us!"
The fox delivers the final blow: "If I could trick the Angel of Death," he boasts, "fooling you is child's play!" (A pretty bold claim if you ask me!)
So, the fish return to Leviathan empty-handed and humiliated. And what does Leviathan say? He can only sigh and admit, "The fox is indeed wise of heart, and you are fools."
What's the takeaway here? It's more than just "don't trust flattery." It's about the importance of quick thinking, of using your wits to get out of a tight spot. And maybe, just maybe, it's a reminder that sometimes, the biggest monsters can be outsmarted by the smallest creatures. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, wisdom isn't always about brute force, but about cleverness and cunning. Even a leviathan can learn that lesson the hard way.