Fables of La Fontaine Part 27

Forth from a dragon-guarded, moated place, The crown was brought, and, taken from its case, And being tried by turns on all, The heads of most were found too small; Some horned were, and some too big; Not one would fit the regal gear.

For ever ripe for such a rig, The monkey, looking very queer, Approach'd with antics and grimaces, And, after scores of monkey faces, With what would seem a gracious stoop, Pa.s.s'd through the crown as through a hoop.

The beasts, diverted with the thing, Did homage to him as their king.

The fox alone the vote regretted, But yet in public never fretted.

When he his compliments had paid To royalty, thus newly made, 'Great sire, I know a place,' said he, 'Where lies conceal'd a treasure, Which, by the right of royalty, Should bide your royal pleasure.'

The king lack'd not an appet.i.te For such financial pelf, And, not to lose his royal right, Ran straight to see it for himself.

It was a trap, and he was caught.

Said Renard, 'Would you have it thought, You ape, that you can fill a throne, And guard the rights of all, alone, Not knowing how to guard your own?'

The beasts all gather'd from the farce, That stuff for kings is very scarce.

[8] Aesop; also Faerno.

VII.--THE MULE BOASTING OF HIS GENEALOGY.[9]

A prelate's mule of n.o.ble birth was proud, And talk'd, incessantly and loud, Of nothing but his dam, the mare, Whose mighty deeds by him recounted were,-- This had she done, and had been present there,-- By which her son made out his claim To notice on the scroll of Fame.

Too proud, when young, to bear a doctor's pill; When old, he had to turn a mill.

As there they used his limbs to bind, His sire, the a.s.s, was brought to mind.

Misfortune, were its only use The claims of folly to reduce, And bring men down to sober reason, Would be a blessing in its season.

[9] Aesop.

VIII.--THE OLD MAN AND THE a.s.s.[10]

An old man, riding on his a.s.s, Had found a spot of thrifty gra.s.s, And there turn'd loose his weary beast.

Old Grizzle, pleased with such a feast, Flung up his heels, and caper'd round, Then roll'd and rubb'd upon the ground, And frisk'd and browsed and bray'd, And many a clean spot made.

Arm'd men came on them as he fed: 'Let's fly,' in haste the old man said.

'And wherefore so?' the a.s.s replied; 'With heavier burdens will they ride?'

'No,' said the man, already started.

'Then,' cried the a.s.s, as he departed, 'I'll stay, and be--no matter whose; Save you yourself, and leave me loose.

But let me tell you, ere you go, (I speak plain French, you know,) My master is my only foe.'

[10] Phaedras. I. 15.

IX.--THE STAG SEEING HIMSELF IN THE WATER.[11]

Beside a placid, crystal flood, A stag admired the branching wood That high upon his forehead stood, But gave his Maker little thanks For what he call'd his spindle shanks.

'What limbs are these for such a head!-- So mean and slim!' with grief he said.

'My glorious heads o'ertops The branches of the copse; My legs are my disgrace.'

As thus he talk'd, a bloodhound gave him chase.

To save his life he flew Where forests thickest grew.

His horns,--pernicious ornament!-- Arresting him where'er he went, Did unavailing render What else, in such a strife, Had saved his precious life-- His legs, as fleet as slender.

Obliged to yield, he cursed the gear Which nature gave him every year.

Too much the beautiful we prize; The useful, often, we despise: Yet oft, as happen'd to the stag, The former doth to ruin drag.

[11] Aesop; also Phaedrus, I.12.

X.--THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.[12]

To win a race, the swiftness of a dart Availeth not without a timely start.

The hare and tortoise are my witnesses.

Said tortoise to the swiftest thing that is, 'I'll bet that you'll not reach, so soon as I The tree on yonder hill we spy.'

'So soon! Why, madam, are you frantic?'

Replied the creature, with an antic; 'Pray take, your senses to restore, A grain or two of h.e.l.lebore.'[13]

'Say,' said the tortoise, 'what you will; I dare you to the wager still.'

'Twas done; the stakes were paid, And near the goal tree laid-- Of what, is not a question for this place, Nor who it was that judged the race.

Our hare had scarce five jumps to make, Of such as he is wont to take, When, starting just before their beaks He leaves the hounds at leisure, Thence till the kalends of the Greeks,[14]

The sterile heath to measure.

Thus having time to browse and doze, And list which way the zephyr blows, He makes himself content to wait, And let the tortoise go her gait In solemn, senatorial state.

She starts; she moils on, modestly and lowly, And with a prudent wisdom hastens slowly; But he, meanwhile, the victory despises, Thinks lightly of such prizes, Believes it for his honour To take late start and gain upon her.

So, feeding, sitting at his ease, He meditates of what you please, Till his antagonist he sees Approach the goal; then starts, Away like lightning darts: But vainly does he run; The race is by the tortoise won.

Cries she, 'My senses do I lack?

What boots your boasted swiftness now?

You're beat! and yet, you must allow, I bore my house upon my back.'

[12] Aesop; also Lokman.

[13] _h.e.l.lebore_.--The ancient remedy for insanity.

[14] _Kalends of the Greeks_.--The Greeks, unlike the Romans, had no kalends in their computation of time, hence the frequent use of this expression to convey the idea of an indefinite period of time.

XI.--THE a.s.s AND HIS MASTERS.[15]

A gardener's a.s.s complain'd to Destiny Of being made to rise before the dawn.

'The c.o.c.ks their matins have not sung,' said he, 'Ere I am up and gone.

And all for what? To market herbs, it seems.

Fine cause, indeed, to interrupt my dreams!'

Fate, moved by such a prayer, Sent him a currier's load to bear, Whose hides so heavy and ill-scented were, They almost choked the foolish beast.

'I wish me with my former lord,' he said; 'For then, whene'er he turn'd his head, If on the watch, I caught A cabbage-leaf, which cost me nought.

But, in this horrid place, I find No chance or windfall of the kind:-- Or if, indeed, I do, The cruel blows I rue.'

Anon it came to pa.s.s He was a collier's a.s.s.

Still more complaint. 'What now?' said Fate, Quite out of patience.

'If on this jacka.s.s I must wait, What will become of kings and nations?

Has none but he aught here to tease him?

Have I no business but to please him?'

And Fate had cause;--for all are so.