Fables of La Fontaine Part 56

In quest of dignity at court, Another met his country's foe, And perish'd by a random blow.

The third was kill'd by falling from a tree Which he himself would graft. The three Were mourn'd by him of h.o.a.ry head, Who chisel'd on each monument-- On doing good intent-- The things which we have said.

[13] Abstemius.

IX.--THE MICE AND THE OWL.

Beware of saying, 'Lend an ear,'

To something marvellous or witty.

To disappoint your friends who hear, Is possible, and were a pity.

But now a clear exception see, Which I maintain a prodigy-- A thing which with the air of fable, Is true as is the interest-table.

A pine was by a woodman fell'd, Which ancient, huge, and hollow tree An owl had for his palace held-- A bird the Fates[14] had kept in fee, Interpreter to such as we.

Within the caverns of the pine, With other tenants of that mine, Were found full many footless mice, But well provision'd, fat, and nice.

The bird had bit off all their feet, And fed them there with heaps of wheat.

That this owl reason'd, who can doubt?

When to the chase he first went out, And home alive the vermin brought, Which in his talons he had caught, The nimble creatures ran away.

Next time, resolved to make them stay, He cropp'd their legs, and found, with pleasure, That he could eat them at his leisure; It were impossible to eat Them all at once, did health permit.

His foresight, equal to our own, In furnishing their food was shown.

Now, let Cartesians, if they can, p.r.o.nounce this owl a mere machine.

Could springs originate the plan Of maiming mice when taken lean, To fatten for his soup-tureen?

If reason did no service there, I do not know it anywhere.

Observe the course of argument: These vermin are no sooner caught than gone: They must be used as soon, 'tis evident; But this to all cannot be done.

And then, for future need, I might as well take heed.

Hence, while their ribs I lard, I must from their elopement guard.

But how?--A plan complete!-- I'll clip them of their feet!

Now, find me, in your human schools, A better use of logic's tools!

Upon your faith, what different art of thought Has Aristotle or his followers taught?[15]

[14] _A bird the Fates_, &c.--The owl was the bird of Atropos, the most terrible of the Fates, to whom was entrusted the task of cutting the thread of life.

[15] La Fontaine, in a note, a.s.serts that the subject of this fable, however marvellous, was a fact which was actually observed. His commentators, however, think the observers must have been in some measure mistaken, and I agree with them.--Translator. In Fable I., Book X., La Fontaine also argues that brutes have reasoning faculties.

EPILOGUE.

'Tis thus, by crystal fount, my muse hath sung, Translating into heavenly tongue Whatever came within my reach, From hosts of beings borr'wing nature's speech.

Interpreter of tribes diverse, I've made them actors on my motley stage; For in this boundless universe There's none that talketh, simpleton or sage, More eloquent at home than in my verse.

If some should find themselves by me the worse, And this my work prove not a model true, To that which I at least rough-hew, Succeeding hands will give the finish due.

Ye pets of those sweet sisters nine, Complete the task that I resign; The lessons give, which doubtless I've omitted, With wings by these inventions nicely fitted!

But you're already more than occupied; For while my muse her harmless work hath plied, All Europe to our sovereign yields,[16]

And learns, upon her battle-fields, To bow before the n.o.blest plan That ever monarch form'd, or man.

Thence draw those sisters themes sublime, With power to conquer Fate and Time.[17]

[16] _All Europe to our sovereign yields_.--An allusion to the conclusion of the peace of Nimeguen by Louis XIV., in 1678. Louis to some extent negotiated the treaty of this peace in person, and having bought the support of the English king, Charles II. (as shown in the note to Fable XVIII., Book VII.) the terms of the treaty were almost his own. The glory of the achievement procured for Louis the surname of "le Grand." The king's praises upon this account are further sounded by La Fontaine in Fable X., Book XII.

[17] With the Epilogue to the XIth Book La Fontaine concluded his issue of Fables up to 1678-9. The XIIth and last Book was not added till 1694, the year before the poet's death. See Translator's Preface.

BOOK XII.

I.--THE COMPANIONS OF ULYSSES.

To Monseigneur The Duke De Bourgogne.[1]

Dear prince, a special favourite of the skies, Pray let my incense from your altars rise.

With these her gifts, if rather late my muse, My age and labours must her fault excuse.

My spirit wanes, while yours beams on the sight At every moment with augmented light: It does not go--it runs,--it seems to fly; And he from whom it draws its traits so high, In war a hero,[2] burns to do the same.

No lack of his that, with victorious force, His giant strides mark not his glory's course: Some G.o.d retains: our sovereign I might name; Himself no less than conqueror divine, Whom one short month made master of the Rhine.

It needed then upon the foe to dash; Perhaps, to-day, such generalship were rash.

But hush,--they say the Loves and Smiles Abhor a speech spun out in miles; And of such deities your court Is constantly composed, in short.

Not but that other G.o.ds, as meet, There hold the highest seat: For, free and lawless as the rest may seem, Good Sense and Reason bear a sway supreme.

Consult these last about the case Of certain men of Grecian race, Who, most unwise and indiscreet, Imbibed such draughts of poison sweet, As changed their form, and brutified.

Ten years the heroes at Ulysses' side Had been the sport of wind and tide.

At last those powers of water The sea-worn wanderers bore To that enchanted sh.o.r.e Where Circe reign'd, Apollo's daughter.

She press'd upon their thirsty lips Delicious drink, but full of bane: Their reason, at the first light sips, Laid down the sceptre of its reign.

Then took their forms and features The lineaments of various creatures.

To bears and lions some did pa.s.s, Or elephants of ponderous ma.s.s; While not a few, I ween, In smaller forms were seen,-- In such, for instance, as the mole.

Of all, the sage Ulysses sole Had wit to shun that treacherous bowl.

With wisdom and heroic mien, And fine address, he caused the queen To swallow, on her wizard throne, A poison somewhat like her own.

A G.o.ddess, she to speak her wishes dared, And hence, at once, her love declared.

Ulysses, truly too judicious To lose a moment so propitious, Besought that Circe would restore His Greeks the shapes that first they wore.

Replied the nymph, 'But will they take them back?

Go make the proffer to the motley pack.'

Ulysses ran, both glad and sure: 'That poisonous cup,' cried he 'hath yet its cure; And here I bring what ends your shame and pain.

Will you, dear friends, be men again?

Pray speak, for speech is now restored.'

'No,' said the lion,--and he roar'd,-- 'My head is not so void of brains!

Renounce shall I my royal gains?

I've claws and teeth to tear my foes to bits, And, more than that, I'm king.

Am I such gifts away to fling, To be but one of Ithaca's mere cits?

In rank and file perhaps I might bear arms.

In such a change I see no charms.'-- Ulysses pa.s.ses to the bear:-- 'How changed, my friend, from what you were!

How sightly once! how ugly now!'

'Humph! truly how?'

Growl'd Bruin in his way-- 'How else than as a bear should be, I pray?

Who taught your stilted highness to prefer One form to every other, sir?

Doth yours possess peculiar powers The merits to decide, of ours?

With all respect, I shall appeal my case To some sweet beauty of the bearish race.

Please pa.s.s it by, if you dislike my face.

I live content, and free from care; And, well remembering what we were, I say it, plain and flat, I'll change to no such state as that.'

Next to the wolf the princely Greek With flattering hope began to speak:-- 'Comrade, I blush, I must confess, To hear a gentle shepherdess Complaining to the echoing rocks Of that outrageous appet.i.te Which drives you, night by night, To prey upon her flocks.

You had been proud to guard her fold In your more honest life of old.