Fables of La Fontaine Part 40

From these examples, it appears, This art, if true in any wise, Makes men fulfil the very fears Engender'd by its prophecies.

But from this charge I justify, By branding it a total lie.

I don't believe that Nature's powers Have tied her hands or pinion'd ours, By marking on the heavenly vault Our fate without mistake or fault.

That fate depends upon conjunctions Of places, persons, times, and tracks, And not upon the functions Of more or less of quacks.

A king and clown beneath one planet's nod Are born; one wields a sceptre, one a hod.

But it is Jupiter that wills it so!

And who is he?[23] A soulless clod.

How can he cause such different powers to flow Upon the aforesaid mortals here below?

And how, indeed, to this far distant ball Can he impart his energy at all?-- How pierce the ether deeps profound, The sun and globes that whirl around?

A mote might turn his potent ray For ever from its earthward way.

Will find, it, then, in starry cope, The makers of the horoscope?

The war[24] with which all Europe's now afflicted-- Deserves it not by them to've been predicted?

Yet heard we not a whisper of it, Before it came, from any prophet.

The suddenness of pa.s.sion's gush, Of wayward life the headlong rush,-- Permit they that the feeble ray Of twinkling planet, far away, Should trace our winding, zigzag course?

And yet this planetary force, As steady as it is unknown, These fools would make our guide alone-- Of all our varied life the source!

Such doubtful facts as I relate-- The petted child's and poet's fate-- Our argument may well admit.

The blindest man that lives in France, The smallest mark would doubtless. .h.i.t-- Once in a thousand times--by chance.

[23] _And who is he_?--By Jupiter, "the soulless clod," is of course meant the planet, not the G.o.d.

[24] _The war_.--See note to Fable XVIII., Book VII.

XVII.--THE a.s.s AND THE DOG.[25]

Dame Nature, our respected mother, Ordains that we should aid each other.

The a.s.s this ordinance neglected, Though not a creature ill-affected.

Along the road a dog and he One master follow'd silently.

Their master slept: meanwhile, the a.s.s Applied his nippers to the gra.s.s, Much pleased in such a place to stop, Though there no thistle he could crop.

He would not be too delicate, Nor spoil a dinner for a plate, Which, but for that, his favourite dish, Were all that any a.s.s could wish.

'My dear companion,' Towser said,-- ''Tis as a starving dog I ask it,-- Pray lower down your loaded basket, And let me get a piece of bread.'

No answer--not a word!--indeed, The truth was, our Arcadian steed[26]

Fear'd lest, for every moment's flight, His nimble teeth should lose a bite.

At last, 'I counsel you,' said he, 'to wait Till master is himself awake, Who then, unless I much mistake, Will give his dog the usual bait.'

Meanwhile, there issued from the wood A creature of the wolfish brood, Himself by famine sorely pinch'd.

At sight of him the donkey flinch'd, And begg'd the dog to give him aid.

The dog budged not, but answer made,-- 'I counsel thee, my friend, to run, Till master's nap is fairly done; There can, indeed, be no mistake, That he will very soon awake; Till then, scud off with all your might; And should he snap you in your flight, This ugly wolf,--why, let him feel The greeting of your well-shod heel.

I do not doubt, at all, but that Will be enough to lay him flat.'

But ere he ceased it was too late; The a.s.s had met his cruel fate.

Thus selfishness we reprobate.

[25] Abstemius.

[26] _Arcadian steed_.--La Fontaine has "roussin d'Arcadie." The a.s.s was so derisively nicknamed. See also Fable XIX., Book VI.

XVIII.--THE PASHAW AND THE MERCHANT.[27]

A trading Greek, for want of law, Protection bought of a pashaw; And like a n.o.bleman he paid, Much rather than a man of trade-- Protection being, Turkish-wise, A costly sort of merchandise.

So costly was it, in this case, The Greek complain'd, with tongue and face.

Three other Turks, of lower rank, Would guard his substance as their own, And all draw less upon his bank, Than did the great pashaw alone.

The Greek their offer gladly heard, And closed the bargain with a word.

The said pashaw was made aware, And counsel'd, with a prudent care These rivals to antic.i.p.ate, By sending them to heaven's gate, As messengers to Mahomet-- Which measure should he much delay, Himself might go the self-same way, By poison offer'd secretly, Sent on, before his time, to be Protector to such arts and trades As flourish in the world of shades.

On this advice, the Turk--no gander-- Behaved himself like Alexander.[28]

Straight to the merchant's, firm and stable, He went, and took a seat at table.

Such calm a.s.surance there was seen, Both in his words and in his mien, That e'en that weasel-sighted Grecian Could not suspect him of suspicion.

'My friend,' said he, 'I know you've quit me, And some think caution would befit me, Lest to despatch me be your plan: But, deeming you too good a man To injure either friends or foes With poison'd cups or secret blows, I drown the thought, and say no more.

But, as regards the three or four Who take my place, I crave your grace To listen to an apologue.

'A shepherd, with a single dog, Was ask'd the reason why He kept a dog, whose least supply Amounted to a loaf of bread For every day. The people said He'd better give the animal To guard the village seignior's hall; For him, a shepherd, it would be A thriftier economy To keep small curs, say two or three, That would not cost him half the food, And yet for watching be as good.

The fools, perhaps, forgot to tell If they would fight the wolf as well.

The silly shepherd, giving heed, Cast off his dog of mastiff breed, And took three dogs to watch his cattle, Which ate far less, but fled in battle.

His flock such counsel lived to rue, As doubtlessly, my friend, will you.

If wise, my aid again you'll seek--'

And so, persuaded, did the Greek.

Not vain our tale, if it convinces Small states that 'tis a wiser thing To trust a single powerful king, Than half a dozen petty princes.

[27] Gilbert Cousin.

[28] _Alexander_.--Who took the medicine presented to him by his physician Philip, the moment after he had received a letter announcing that that very man designed to poison him.--Arrian, L.

II. Chap. XIV.--Translator.

XIX.--THE USE OF KNOWLEDGE.[29]

Between two citizens A controversy grew.

The one was poor, but much he knew: The other, rich, with little sense, Claim'd that, in point of excellence, The merely wise should bow the knee To all such money'd men as he.

The merely fools, he should have said; For why should wealth hold up its head, When merit from its side hath fled?

'My friend,' quoth Bloated-purse, To his reverse, 'You think yourself considerable.

Pray, tell me, do you keep a table?

What comes of this incessant reading, In point of lodging, clothing, feeding?

It gives one, true, the highest chamber, One coat for June and for December, His shadow for his sole attendant, And hunger always in th' ascendant.

What profits he his country, too, Who scarcely ever spends a sou-- Will, haply, be a public charge?

Who profits more the state at large, Than he whose luxuries dispense Among the people wealth immense?

We set the streams of life a-flowing; We set all sorts of trades a-going.

The spinner, weaver, sewer, vender, And many a wearer, fair and tender, All live and flourish on the spender-- As do, indeed, the reverend rooks Who waste their time in making books.'

These words, so full of impudence, Received their proper recompense.

The man of letters held his peace, Though much he might have said with ease.

A war avenged him soon and well; In it their common city fell.

Both fled abroad; the ignorant, By fortune thus brought down to want, Was treated everywhere with scorn, And roamed about, a wretch forlorn; Whereas the scholar, everywhere, Was nourish'd by the public care.

Let fools the studious despise; There's nothing lost by being wise.