Tales and Novels of J. de La Fontaine Part 43

A CLOISTERED nun had a lover Dwelling in the neighb'ring town; Both racked their brains to discover How they best their love might crown.

The swain to pa.s.s the convent-door!-- No easy matter!--Thus they swore, And wished it light.--I ne'er knew a nun In such a pa.s.s to be outdone:-- In woman's clothes the youth must dress, And gain admission. I confess The ruse has oft been tried before, But it succeeded as of yore.

Together in a close barred cell The lovers were, and sewed all day, Nor heeded how time flew away.-- "What's that I hear? Refection bell!

"'Tis time to part. Adieu!--Farewell!-- "How's this?" exclaimed the abbess, "why "The last at table?"--"Madam, I "Have had my dress-maker."--"The rent "On which you've both been so intent "Is hard to stop, for the whole day "To sew and mend, you made her stay; "Much work indeed you've had to do!

"--Madam, 't would last the whole night through, "When in our task we find enjoyment "There is no end of the employment."

THE GASCON

I AM always inclined to suspect The best story under the sun As soon as by chance I detect That teller and hero are one.

We're all of us p.r.o.ne to conceit, And like to proclaim our own glory, But our purpose we're apt to defeat As actors in chief of our story.

To prove the truth of what I state Let me an anecdote relate: A Gascon with his comrade sat At tavern drinking. This and that He vaunted with a.s.sertion pat.

From gasconade to gasconade Pa.s.sed to the conquests he had made In love. A buxom country maid, Who served the wine, with due attention Lent patient ear to each invention, And pressed her hands against her side Her bursting merriment to hide.

To hear our Gascon talk, no Sue Nor Poll in town but that he knew; With each he'd pa.s.sed a blissful night More to their own than his delight.

This one he loved for she was fair, That for her glossy ebon hair.

One miss, to tame his cruel rigour, Had brought him gifts.--She owned his vigour In short it wanted but his gaze To set each trembling heart ablaze.

His strength surpa.s.sed his luck,--the test-- In one short night ten times he'd blessed A dame who gratefully expressed Her thanks with corresponding zest.

At this the maid burst forth, "What more?

"I never heard such lies before!

"Content were I if at that sport "I had what that poor dame was short."

THE PITCHER

THE simple Jane was sent to bring Fresh water from the neighb'ring spring; The matter pressed, no time to waste, Jane took her jug, and ran in haste The well to reach, but in her flurry (The more the speed the worse the hurry), Tripped on a rolling stone, and broke Her precious pitcher,--ah! no joke!

Nay, grave mishap! 'twere better far To break her neck than such a jar!

Her dame would beat and soundly rate her, No way could Jane propitiate her.

Without a sou new jug to buy!

'Twere better far for her to die!

O'erwhelmed by grief and cruel fears Unhappy Jane burst into tears "I can't go home without the delf,"

Sobbed Jane, "I'd rather kill myself; "So here am I resolved to die."

A friendly neighbour pa.s.sing by O'erheard our damsel's lamentation; And kindly offered consolation: "If death, sweet maiden, be thy bent, "I'll aid thee in thy sad intent."

Throwing her down, he drew his dirk, And plunged it in the maid,--a work You'll say was cruel,--not so Jane, Who even seemed to like the pain, And hoped to be thus stabbed again.

Amid the weary world's alarms, For some e'en death will have its charms; "If this, my friend, is how you kill, "Of breaking jugs I'll have my fill!"

TO PROMISE IS ONE THING TO KEEP IT, ANOTHER

JOHN courts Perrette; but all in vain; Love's sweetest oaths, and tears, and sighs All potent spells her heart to gain The ardent lover vainly tries: Fruitless his arts to make her waver, She will not grant the smallest favour: A ruse our youth resolved to try The cruel air to mollify:-- Holding his fingers ten outspread To Perrette's gaze, and with no dread "So often," said he, "can I prove, "My sweet Perrette, how warm my love."

When lover's last avowals fail To melt the maiden's coy suspicions A lover's sign will oft prevail To win the way to soft concessions: Half won she takes the tempting bait; Smiles on him, draws her lover nearer, With heart no longer obdurate She teaches him no more to fear her-- A pinch,--a kiss,--a kindling eye,-- Her melting glances,--nothing said.-- John ceases not his suit to ply Till his first finger's debt is paid.

A second, third and fourth he gains, Takes breath, and e'en a fifth maintains.

But who could long such contest wage?

Not I, although of fitting age, Nor John himself, for here he stopped, And further effort sudden dropped.

Perrette, whose appet.i.te increased just as her lover's vigour ceased, In her fond reckoning defeated, Considered she was greatly cheated-- If duty, well discharged, such blame Deserve; for many a highborn dame Would be content with such deceit.

But Perrette, as already told, Out of her count, began to scold And call poor John an arrant cheat For promising and not performing.

John calmly listened to her storming, And well content with work well done, Thinking his laurels fairly won, Cooly replied, on taking leave: "No cause I see to fume and grieve; "Or for such trifle to dispute; "To promise and to execute "Are not the same, be it confessed, "Suffice it to have done one's best; "With time I'll yet discharge what's due; "Meanwhile, my sweet Perrette, adieu!"

THE NIGHTINGALE

NO easy matter 'tis to hold, Against its owner's will, the fleece Who troubled by the itching smart Of Cupid's irritating dart, Eager awaits some Jason bold To grant release.

E'en dragon huge, or flaming steer, When Jason's loved will cause no fear.

Duennas, grating, bolt and lock, All obstacles can naught avail; Constraint is but a stumbling block; For youthful ardour must prevail.

Girls are precocious nowadays, Look at the men with ardent gaze, And longings' an infinity; Trim misses but just in their teens By day and night devise the means To dull with subtlety to sleep The Argus vainly set to keep In safety their virginity.

Sighs, smiles, false tears, they'll fain employ An artless lover to decoy.

I'll say no more, but leave to you, Friend reader, to p.r.o.nounce if true What I've a.s.serted when you have heard How artful Kitty, caged her bird.

IN a small town in Italy, The name of which I do not know, Young Kitty dwelt, gay, pretty, free, Varambon's child.--Boccacio Omits her mother's name, which not To you or me imports a jot.

At fourteen years our Kitty's charms Were all that could be wished--plump arms, A swelling bosom; on her cheeks Roses' and lilies' mingled streaks, A sparkling eye--all these, you know, Speak well for what is found below.

With such advantages as these No virgin sure could fail to please, Or lack a lover; nor did Kate; But little time she had to wait; One soon appeared to seal her fate.

Young Richard saw her, loved her, wooed her-- What swain I ask could have withstood her?

Soft words, caresses, tender glances, The battery of love's advances, Soon lit up in the maiden's breast The flame which his own heart possessed, Soon growing to a burning fire Of love and mutual desire.

Desire for what? My reader knows, Or if he does not may suppose, And not be very wond'rous wise.

When youthful lovers mingle sighs, Believe me, friend, I am not wrong, For one thing only do they long.

One check deferred our lover's bliss, A thing quite natural, 'twas this: The mother loved so well her child That, fearful she might be beguiled, She would not let her out of sight, A single minute, day or night.

At mother's ap.r.o.n string all day Kate whiled the weary hours away, And shared her bed all night. Such love In parents we must all approve, Though Catherine, I must confess, In place of so much tenderness More liberty would have preferred.

To little girls maternal care In such excess is right and fair, But for a la.s.s of fourteen years, For whom one need have no such fears, Solicitude is quite absurd, And only bores her. Kitty could No moment steal, do what she would, To see her Richard. Sorely vexed She was, and he still more perplexed.

In spite of all he might devise A squeeze, a kiss, quick talk of eyes Was all he could obtain, no more.

Bread b.u.t.terless, a sanded floor, It seemed no better. Joy like this Could not suffice, more sterling bliss Our lovers wished, nor would stop short Till they'd obtained the thing they sought.

And thus it came about. One day By chance they met, alone, away From jealous parents. "What's the use;"

Said Richard, "of all our affection?

"Of love it is a rank abuse, "And yields me nothing but dejection "I see you without seeing you, "Must always look another way, "And if we meet I dare not stay, "Must ev'ry inclination smother.

"I can't believe your love is true; "I'll never own you really kind "Unless some certain means you find "For us to meet without your mother."

Kate answered: "Were it not too plain "How warm my love, another strain "I would employ. In converse vain "Let us not waste our moments few; "But think what it were best to do."

"If you will please me," Robert said, "You must contrive to change your bed, "And have it placed--well, let me see-- "Moved to the outer gallery, "Where you will be alone and free.