Fables of La Fontaine Part 62

As Renard slew, he laid aside, Till nearly half of them had died; Then proudly to his larder bore, And laid them up, an ample store.

A foe, by being over-heeded, Has often in his plan succeeded.

XIX.--THE APE.

There is an ape in Paris, To which was given a wife: Like many a one that marries, This ape, in brutal strife, Soon beat her out of life.

Their infant cries,--perhaps not fed,-- But cries, I ween, in vain; The father laughs: his wife is dead, And he has other loves again, Which he will also beat, I think,-- Return'd from tavern drown'd in drink.

For aught that's good, you need not look Among the imitative tribe; A monkey be it, or what makes a book-- The worse, I deem--the aping scribe.

XX.--THE SCYTHIAN PHILOSOPHER.

A Scythian philosopher austere, Resolved his rigid life somewhat to cheer, Perform'd the tour of Greece, saw many things, But, best, a sage,--one such as Virgil sings,-- A simple, rustic man, that equal'd kings; From whom, the G.o.ds would hardly bear the palm; Like them unawed, content, and calm.

His fortune was a little nook of land; And there the Scythian found him, hook in hand, His fruit-trees pruning. Here he cropp'd A barren branch, there slash'd and lopp'd, Correcting Nature everywhere, Who paid with usury his care.

'Pray, why this wasteful havoc, sir?'-- So spoke the wondering traveller; 'Can it, I ask, in reason's name, Be wise these harmless trees to maim?

Fling down that instrument of crime, And leave them to the scythe of Time.

Full soon, unhasten'd, they will go To deck the banks of streams below.'

Replied the tranquil gardener, 'I humbly crave your pardon, sir; Excess is all my hook removes, By which the rest more fruitful proves.'

The philosophic traveller,-- Once more within his country cold,-- Himself of pruning-hook laid hold, And made a use most free and bold; Prescribed to friends, and counsel'd neighbours To imitate his pruning labours.

The finest limbs he did not spare, But pruned his orchard past all reason, Regarding neither time nor season, Nor taking of the moon a care.

All wither'd, droop'd, and died.

This Scythian I set beside The indiscriminating Stoic.

The latter, with a blade heroic, Retrenches, from his spirit sad, Desires and pa.s.sions, good and bad, Not sparing e'en a harmless wish.

Against a tribe so Vandalish With earnestness I here protest.

They maim our hearts, they stupefy Their strongest springs, if not their best; They make us cease to live before we die.

XXI.--THE ELEPHANT AND THE APE OF JUPITER.

'Twixt elephant and beast of horned nose About precedence a dispute arose, Which they determined to decide by blows.

The day was fix'd, when came a messenger To say the ape of Jupiter Was swiftly earthward seen to bear His bright caduceus through the air.

This monkey, named in history Gill, The elephant at once believed A high commission had received To witness, by his sovereign's will, The aforesaid battle fought.

Uplifted by the glorious thought, The beast was prompt on Monsieur Gill to wait, But found him slow, in usual forms of state, His high credentials to present.

The ape, however, ere he went, Bestow'd a pa.s.sing salutation.

His excellency would have heard The subject matter of legation: But not a word!

His fight, so far from stirring heaven,-- The news was not received there, even!

What difference sees the impartial sky Between an elephant and fly?

Our monarch, doting on his object, Was forced himself to break the subject.

'My cousin Jupiter,' said he, 'Will shortly, from his throne supreme, A most important combat see, For all his court a thrilling theme.'

'What combat?' said the ape, with serious face.

'Is't possible you should not know the case?--'

The elephant exclaim'd--'not know, dear sir, That Lord Rhinoceros disputes With me precedence of the brutes?

That Elephantis is at war With savage hosts of Rhinocer?

You know these realms, not void of fame?'

'I joy to learn them now by name,'

Return'd Sir Gill, 'for, first or last, No lisp of them has ever pa.s.s'd Throughout our dome so blue and vast.'

Abash'd, the elephant replied, 'What came you, then, to do?--'

'Between two emmets to divide A spire of gra.s.s in two.

We take of all a care; And, as to your affair, Before the G.o.ds, who view with equal eyes The small and great, it hath not chanced to rise.'

XXII.--THE FOOL AND THE SAGE.[34]

A fool pursued, with club and stone, A sage, who said, 'My friend, well done!

Receive this guinea for your pains; They well deserve far higher gains.

The workman's worthy of his hire, 'Tis said. There comes a wealthy squire, Who hath wherewith thy works to pay; To him direct thy gifts, and they Shall gain their proper recompense.'

Urged by the hope of gain, Upon the wealthy citizen The fool repeated the offence.

His pay this time was not in gold.

Upon the witless man A score of ready footmen ran, And on his back, in full, his wages told.

In courts, such fools afflict the wise; They raise the laugh at your expense.

To check their babble, were it sense Their folly meetly to chastise?

Perhaps 'twill take a stronger man.

Then make them worry one who can.

[34] Phaedrus, III., 4; also _Aesop_.

XXIII.--THE ENGLISH FOX.[35]

To Madame Harvey.[36]

Sound reason and a tender heart With thee are friends that never part.

A hundred traits might swell the roll;-- Suffice to name thy n.o.bleness of soul; Thy power to guide both men and things; Thy temper open, bland and free, A gift that draweth friends to thee, To which thy firm affection clings, Unmarr'd by age or change of clime, Or tempests of this stormy time;-- All which deserve, in highest lyric, A rich and lofty panegyric; But no such thing wouldst thou desire, Whom pomp displeases, praises tire.

Hence mine is simple, short, and plain; Yet, madam, I would fain Tack on a word or two Of homage to your country due,-- A country well beloved by you.

With mind to match the outward case, The English are a thinking race.

They pierce all subjects through and through; Well arm'd with facts, they hew their way, And give to science boundless sway.

Quite free from flattery, I say, Your countrymen, for penetration, Must bear the palm from every nation; For e'en the dogs they breed excel Our own in nicety of smell.

Your foxes, too, are cunninger, As readily we may infer From one that practised, 'tis believed, A stratagem the best conceived.

The wretch, once, in the utmost strait By dogs of nose so delicate, Approach'd a gallows, where, A lesson to like pa.s.sengers, Or clothed in feathers or in furs, Some badgers, owls, and foxes, pendent were.

Their comrade, in his pressing need, Arranged himself among the dead.

I seem to see old Hannibal Outwit some Roman general, And sit securely in his tent, The legions on some other scent.

But certain dogs, kept back To tell the errors of the pack, Arriving where the traitor hung, A fault in fullest chorus sung.

Though by their bark the welkin rung, Their master made them hold the tongue.

Suspecting not a trick so odd, Said he, 'The rogue's beneath the sod.