The Fables of La Fontaine
demonstrations of joy and good-will, and had a statue erected to him.
His desire, however, to see the world and acquire knowledge, induced
him to renounce all honours. He accordingly quitted the court of
Lycerus, where he enjoyed everything that could be wished, and took
leave of this prince, for the purpose of visiting Greece. Lycerus did
not allow him to leave without bestowing upon him the greatest marks
of affection, nor without making him swear that he would return to end
his days with him.
Amongst the cities which he visited, Delphi was one of the principal.
The Delphians were very willing to listen to him, but they paid him no
honours, and Æsop, piqued by this lack of respect, compared them to
sticks which float on the water, which at some distance off seem to
be something important, but when close at hand are discovered to be
worthless. This comparison, however, cost him dear, for the Delphians
conceived such a dislike to him, and such a vehement desire of being
avenged on him (as well as being impressed by a fear that he would
defame them), that they resolved to compass his death. To attain this
end, they concealed amongst his goods one of their sacred vessels,
intending to accuse him of theft and sacrilege, and then to condemn him
to death.
As Æsop was setting out from Delphi, and journeying towards Phocis,
the Delphians ran after him with every appearance of great wrath, and
accused him of having stolen their sacred vessel. Æsop denied the
theft with solemn oaths, but when his baggage was searched it was
found amongst it; therefore, all that Æsop could say did not prevent
them from treating him as an infamous criminal. He was conveyed back
to Delphi, loaded with irons, cast into a dungeon, and condemned to be
thrown headlong from a rock. It was in vain that, attempting to defend
himself with his ordinary weapons, he recited fables. The Delphians
only laughed at them.
"The frog," he said, "had invited the rat to come to see her. In order
to enable him to pass across the pond, she tied him to her foot. As
soon as he was fairly on the water she tried to drag him to the bottom,
in order to drown him, and then make a meal of him. The unfortunate
rat resisted for some little time; and whilst he was struggling on
the surface, a bird of prey perceived him, pounced on him, and having
carried him off, together with the frog, who could not extricate
herself, made a meal of both. And thus, O Delphians, one more powerful
than either of us will avenge me. I shall perish; but you will perish
also."
As Æsop was being led to his place of punishment, he found means to
escape, and entered a little chapel dedicated to Apollo, from which,
however, the Delphians tore him. "You violate this asylum," he said
to them, "because it is only a little chapel; but a day will come
when your wickedness will find no hiding-place--no, not even in your
great temple. The same thing will happen to you that happened to the
eagle, which, in spite of the prayers of the beetle, carried off the
leveret, which had taken refuge with the insect. The eagle's offspring
was punished for this, even when it had sought shelter in Jupiter's
bosom." The Delphians, however, little moved by these remarks, cast
Æsop headlong from the rock.
Soon after Æsop's death a pestilence spread havoc throughout the
Delphian land. The inhabitants asked of the oracle by what means they
might appease the wrath of the gods; the oracle replied, that the only
means by which they could do this was by expiating their crime and
laying Æsop's ghost. On this a pyramid was immediately erected to his
memory. But it was not Heaven alone that testified its displeasure at
Æsop's murder; man also avenged the sage's death. Greece instantly sent
a commission to inquire into the circumstances, and inflicted a severe
punishment on the criminals.[4]
[1] The chronology of our worthy La Fontaine is here at fault,
for between the times of Æsop and Planudes there was an interval of
nearly twenty centuries; Æsop having flourished in the sixth century
before Christ, and Planudes having lived in the fourteenth century of
the Christian era.
[2] This life of Æsop, composed by a monk of the fourteenth
century, is a legend which has replaced history by disfiguring it. If
we confine ourselves exclusively to the testimonies of the ancients,
we shall be able to tell in a few words all that has come down to us
that is at all likely to be true respecting the life of Æsop. Although
various authors have attributed his birth-place in turn to Mesembria in
Thrace, to Samos, and to Sardis in Lydia, it is almost certain that he
was born in Phrygia, either at Amorium, or in another city of the same
province named Cotisium. The deformity which has been attributed to him
is simply an exaggeration of a certain ugliness of countenance; and as
he also stammered, he has been declared to have been almost dumb. The
first portion of his life was passed in slavery, at first under the
Lydian philosopher Xantus, and then under Iadmo at Samos, where he had
for a companion the celebrated courtesan, Rhodope. Having been freed by
Iadmo, he went to the court of Crœsus, where he enjoyed great favour.
Employed by this prince to convey his presents to the temple at Delphi,
and certain liberalities to the inhabitants, the perfidy and resentment
of the people, whom he had not deemed worthy of his master's gifts,
were the cause of his death. He was accused of having stolen a sacred
vase which had been treacherously concealed amongst his goods. Both
gods and men avenged his death. His journeys to Babylon and in Egypt
are pure inventions. If we may believe Plutarch, he was present at the
banquet of the Seven Wise Men at Corinth. The contradictory accounts
given by authors as to the place of his birth may be explained by his
many journeys; for he has been said to have been born wherever he
resided. It will be seen by this brief sketch, that the life of Æsop by
Planudes is not a pure invention, and that we may say with respect to
it--
"However great the lie may he.
Therein some grains of truth we see."
[3] In the lists of the Kings of Babylon there is found no
monarch of this name, and this is another proof amongst many that the
life of Æsop by Planudes is a fiction.
[4] The Athenians erected a statue to Æsop, which was the work
of the celebrated Lysippus, and it was placed opposite those of the
Seven Wise Men.
DEDICATION
TO
MONSEIGNEUR THE DAUPHIN[1]
MONSEIGNEUR,
If there be anything ingenious in the republic of letters, it may be
said that it is the manner in which Æsop has deduced his moral. It
were truly to be wished that other hands than mine had added to the
fable the ornaments of poetry, since the wisest of the ancients[2] has
decided that they are not useless. I venture, Monseigneur, to submit to
you certain attempts in this manner, as being not altogether unsuited
to your earlier years. You are of an age[3] at which amusements
and sports are allowed to princes; but at the same time you should
devote some portion of your attention to serious reflections. This
is precisely what we meet with in the fables which we owe to Æsop.
At first sight they appear puerile; but their puerility is only the
covering of important truths.
I do not doubt, Monseigneur, that you entertain a favourable opinion
of compositions which are at once so useful and so agreeable; for
what more can one desire than the useful and the agreeable? It is
these that have been the means of introducing knowledge amongst men.
Æsop has discovered the singular art of joining the one to the other.
The perusal of his works invariably plants in the soul the seeds of
virtue, and teaches it to know itself, without letting it feel that
it is pursuing a study, whilst, in fact, it even believes that it is
otherwise engaged. It is a means of instruction which has been happily
made use of by him whom His Majesty has selected as your tutor.[4] He
teaches you all that a prince should learn in such a manner that you
study not only without trouble, but even with pleasure. We hope much
from this; but, to tell the truth, there are things from which we hope
infinitely more, and those, Monseigneur, are the qualities which our
invincible monarch has bestowed upon you by the mere circumstance of
your birth, and the example which he gives you day by day. When you see
him forming such grand designs; when you see him calmly regarding the
agitation of Europe and the efforts which it makes to divert him from
his enterprises;[5] when you see him penetrating by a single effort
the heart of one province[6] bristling against him with insurmountable
obstacles, and subjugating another[7] within eight days, during that
season which is the most hostile of all others to the operations of
war, and when the courts of other princes are redolent only of peace
and pleasure; when you see him not content with merely subduing men,
but resolved also to vanquish the elements; and when, I say, on his
return from this expedition, in which he has conquered like another
Alexander, you see him ruling his people like another Augustus,--admit,
Monseigneur, that, in spite of the tenderness of your years, you
sigh for glory as ardently as your father, and that you await with
impatience the moment when you will be able to declare yourself his
rival in your worship of this divine mistress. But, no; you do not
await it, Monseigneur; you anticipate it; and in proof of this I need
no other witnesses than that noble restlessness, that vivacity, that
ardour, those many evidences of spirit, of courage, of greatness of
soul, which you so continually display. It must, doubtless, be the
greatest gratification to our monarch, as it is a most agreeable
spectacle to the universe, to see you thus growing up, a young plant
which will one day protect with its shadow peoples and nations.
I might enlarge upon this subject. But as the plan I have proposed to
myself of amusing you is more suited to my powers than that of praising
you, I shall hasten to have recourse to my fables, and will add to
the truths I have told you but this--and that is, Monseigneur, that I
am, with respectful zeal, your very humble, very obedient, and very
faithful servant,
DE LA FONTAINE.
[1] Louis, Dauphin of France, son of Louis XIV., and of Marie
Theresa of Austria, was born at Fontainebleau on the 1st of November,
1661, and died at Meudon on the 14th of April, 1671.
[2] Socrates.
[3] The Dauphin was six years and five months old when La
Fontaine published the collection of fables to which this Dedication
is prefixed. It was completed on the 3rd of March, 1668.
[4] Monseigneur the Dauphin had two tutors: the first being M. the
President de Perigni, and the second M. Bossuet, the Bishop of Meaux.
La Fontaine, in the above passage, alludes to M. de Perigni.
[5] This refers to the Triple Alliance formed between England,
Spain, and Holland, for the purpose of checking the conquests of the
French monarch.
[6] Flanders, in which the French king made a campaign in
1667, when he took Douai, Tournoi, Oudenarde, Ath, Alost, and Lille.
[7] Franche-Comté, which he subdued in 1668.
PREFACE.
The indulgence with which some of my fables have been received[1] has
induced me to hope that this present collection may meet with the same
favour. At the same time I must admit that one of the masters of our
eloquence[2] has disapproved of the plan of rendering these fables in
verse, since he believes that their chief ornament consists in having
none; and that, moreover, the restraints of poetry, added to the
severity of our language, would frequently embarrass me, and deprive