The Fables of La Fontaine
Have stopped your preaching, and be sure
My children's meals will not be fewer."
He kept his word; and to my fable
I add a moral, as I'm able:
Youth hopes to win all by address;
But age is ever pitiless.
FABLE CCXX.
THE BAT, THE BUSH, AND THE DUCK.
A Bat, a Bush, and Duck, one day,
Finding home business would not pay,
Resolved their purses to unite,
And risks of foreign trade invite.
Soon with factors, counters, agents,
And all the merchants' usual pageants,
Ledgers, day-books, and all that,
Surrounded, they grew rich and fat.
All went on well, till, lucklessly,
A cargo, trusted to the sea,
And traversing a rock-bound strait,
Ill-piloted, endured the fate
Of all the other treasures which
King Neptune's sea-roofed vaults enrich.
Great cries of grief the trio uttered,--
That is to say, they only muttered:
For every little merchant knows
That credit loves not traders' woes.
But, spite of every cautious plan,
The tale through all the city ran;
And now Duck, Bush, and Bat were seen
Ready to wear the bonnet green,[1]
Without or credit or resources,
For none would ope for them their purses.
All sorts of creditors daily arrived,
With bailiffs and writs; and the door scarce survived
The continual thrum
Of their creditors' glum;
And, of course, the Bush, Bat, and the Duck were intent
To find means this importunate crowd to content.
The Bush, with his thorns, caught the men that went by,
And said, with a sort of a pitiful cry,
"Pray, sirs, can you tell in what part of the sea
The wealth of myself and my partners may be?"
Whilst that diver, the Duck, plunging down out of sight,
Went to find them, he said, if he possibly might.
But the Bat, followed daily by bailiffs and duns,
At noon all the haunts of the human race shuns;
And, stricken with shame, to keep quite out of sight,
Hides in ruins all day, and flies only by night.
Many a debtor have I known--
Neither Bush, nor Bat, nor Duck--
Who even had not such ill luck
As was upon this trio thrown,
But simple lords, who, shunning snares,
Sneaked always down by the back stairs.
[1] An allusion to an ancient custom, which allowed debtors
to be free of their creditors, if they would wear constantly a green
cap; the public disgrace being considered equivalent to a discharge in
full.
FABLE CCXXI.
THE EAGLE AND THE MAGPIE.
The Eagle, queen of the broad sky,
Met, one day, in a field, the Pie--
In mind and language different,
In plumage, and in every bent.
Chance brought them into a by way:
The Magpie was afraid to stay.
The Eagle, having dined but lately,
Assured her calmly and sedately.
"Come, let's be social," said the Eagle, then;
"And if the lord of gods and men
Sometimes is weary of the king
Who rules the universe, the thing
Is clear, that ennui may e'en vex
One who serves Jove. Amuse me!--come,
And chatter as you do at home;
It is not me you will perplex."
The Pie began at once to gabble
On this and that, on lords and rabble;
Just like the man in Horace--just,
Good, bad, indifferent, all on trust;
Talking incessant, and still worse
Than the poor fool in the famed verse.
She offers, if it please his grace,
To skip about, and watch each place
He wishes. Jove knows that the Pie
Was well constructed for a spy.
The eagle answers, angrily,
"Don't leave your home, my tattling friend.
Adieu! I have no wish to send
A gossip to corrupt my court,
And spread each lying, false report:
I hate a gossip." Quite content,
Maggy cared little where she went.
To dwell among the gods or kings
Is not the pleasantest of things;
That honour has its pangs also.
Detractors, spies, and many a foe,
Gracious and bland enough in face,
But false in heart, infest each place,
And make you odious. In courts wear
Coats of two colours, or take care.
FABLE CCXXII.
THE QUARREL OF THE DOGS AND THE CATS; AND, ALSO, THAT OF THE CATS
AND THE MICE.
Discord has always ruled this universe;
Our world of this could many facts rehearse.
This goddess over countless subjects reigns;
The elements not Jupiter himself restrains;
Nor these four potentates alone wage war:
In many races there's a ceaseless jar.
A house once, full of Dogs and Cats, grew free
Of strife, at last, by many a grave decree.
The master fixed their hours, and every meal,
And let the quarrelsome his horsewhip feel.
They live, at last, like cousins, almost brothers,
And furnish quite examples to all others.
At length peace ended;--some stray tempting bone,
Some broth, or little preference to one shown,
Made both belligerents half crazy run.
To plead the grievous injury that's done,
I've heard that learned writers of old law
Attribute this to some small legal flaw.
Be what it might, they both made angry claims,
And set the kitchen and the hall in flames.
Some loud for Dog and some for Cat cried out:
The Cats went mewing, the Dogs whined about.
They deafened every one. Cats' advocate
Referred to the decree; and the debate
Ceased at that word; but still they searched in vain
Where it was hid, and sought and sought again.
The Mice had eaten it; then, lo, once more
The Mice were sufferers--many, many a score
The old Cats swallowed--some, with cruel claws,
Expounded to the Mice their code of laws;
Laid ambuscades; caught them in many ways,
And from their master obtained food and praise.
<i>Mais à nos moutons.</i> Not beneath the skies
Lives there a creature without enemies.
'Tis Nature's law; and how is purblind man
The secret of Gods mysteries to scan?
It is God's will; further I do not go:
We waste our time in trying but to know.
Man is, at sixty years, a wondering fool,
Fit to be whipped, and sent again to school.
FABLE CCXXIII.
LOVE AND FOLLY.
All is mysterious with Love,--
His bow and arrow, torch, and wings.
'Tis not a day's work in a grove.
To master these momentous things.
Explain them my poor muse can not;
My object is but, in my way,
To tell of Cupid's wretched lot,
And how he lost the light of day.
Whether that fate be ill or well
For those whom Cupid since has met,
Lovers alone can rightly tell:
I cannot, though I've felt his net.
Folly and Love together played,
One day, before he lost his sight;
But yet, as people will, they strayed
From friendship, and got stung by spite.
Disputes are really melancholy!
Love wanted all the gods and men
As umpires; but impatient Folly
Preferred it settled there and then;
And gave poor Cupid such a blow,
That both his pretty eyes were seared.
For blessed sight gave blindness--lo!
Their heaven's blue brightness disappeared.
His mother, Venus, heard his grief,
And cried for vengeance, like one mad,
On Jove and Nemesis,--in brief,
On gods of all kinds, good and bad.
The case, she said, was very strong:
Her blind son would require a stick
And dog, to help him walk along.
Alas! for cruel Folly's trick.
The gods poor Cupid's case discussed,--
And boys and girls in love decide,
Decreeing that it's only just,
Folly should Love in future guide.
FABLE CCXXIV.
THE WOLF AND THE FOX.
How comes this general discontent?
Here is a man, for lack of wit,
Longing to live beneath the tent
The soldier's longing so to quit.
A certain Fox aspired to be
A Wolf: and who's prepared to say
The Wolf may not think luxury
Consists in the lamb's peaceful play?
It much surprises me to find
A poet prince, but eight years old,
Who writes prose of a better kind
Than I can verse--aye, twenty fold--
Though long experience makes me bold.
The thoughts throughout his fable spread
Are not a poet's work, I know.
They're numerous and better said;
Unto a prince the praise we owe.
I play upon a simple pipe:
That is my talent--just to please;
But soon my hero, growing ripe,
The clarion will make me seize.
I am no prophet, yet I read
The starry signs that promise give.
His glorious acts will Homer need;
Homer, alas! he does not live.
The Fox said to the Wolf, one day, "My dear,
I have but old tough hens for my poor cheer!
One wearies of the food; but you feed well,
And with less hazard. I, where people dwell,
Slink round, while you keep prudently away.
Teach me your trade, my noble comrade, pray!
Make me the first of all my race who slew
A good fat sheep, and took him for a stew!"
"I shall not be ungrateful," the Wolf said;
"'Tis well, I have a brother newly dead;
Put on his skin." Fox took it, and obeyed.
The Wolf then bid him not to be afraid
Of all the mastiffs of the shepherds flock:
The Fox learnt of his maxims the whole stock,
First blundered much, then studied all he could,
And, lastly, well the precepts understood.
Just as he finished, there came passing by
A drove of sheep. He runs at them--they fly.
The new-made Wolf spreads terror everywhere;
And frightened bleatings fill the troubled air.
So in Achilles arms Patroclus came:--
Mothers and old men shudder at his name.
The sheep see fifty wolves; and, in full cry,
Dogs, sheep, and shepherds to the village fly.
One only, as a hostage, left behind,
Is by the villain seized. Upon the wind,
Just then, came crow of lusty chanticleer:
The pupil snapped the fowl, and without fear,
Threw by his school-dress, all his task forgot,
And ran off, heedless of his future lot.
How useless was this counterfeiting then!
The changed suit hindered not the watchful men.
They follow in his track the self-same day,
And when they find him, they are quick to slay.
From your unequalled mind my poor muse drew
The story and its moral, plain but true.
FABLE CCXXV.
THE CRAB AND ITS DAUGHTER.
Sages are often, like the crabs, inclined
To backward step, and leave their goal behind.
This is the sailor's art, and, now and then,
The artifice of deep, designing men,
Who feign the opposite of their intent,
To put their adversaries off the scent.
My subject is a trifle; but how wide
The field on which its morals may be tried!
Some general may conquer, should he heed it,
An army with a hundred chiefs to lead it.
His plans of march and counter-march may be
At first a secret, then a victory.
No use in prying, when he would conceal;
From Fate's decrees one cannot make appeal.
The tide grows insurmountable, at length;
Against a Jove the gods may waste their strength.
Louis and Fate seem partners now, in glory,
And draw the world along. But to my story.
Said Mother Crab to Daughter Crab, one day,
"How <i>can</i> you step in such an ugly way?