The Fables of Phaedrus Part 28

XVIII. THE MOUNTAIN IN LABOR.

The Mountain labor'd, groaning loud, On which a num'rous gaping crowd Of noodles came to see the sight, When, lo! a mouse was brought to light!

This tale's for men of swagg'ring cast, Whose threats, voluminous and vast, With all their verse and all their prose, Can make but little on't, G.o.d knows.

XIX. THE ANT AND THE FLY.

An Ant and Fly had sharp dispute Which creature was of most repute; When thus began the flaunting Fly: "Are you so laudible as I?

I, ere the sacrifice is carved, Precede the G.o.ds; first come, first served-- Before the altar take my place, And in all temples show my face, Whene'er I please I set me down Upon the head that wears a crown.

I with impunity can taste The kiss of matrons fair and chaste.

And pleasure without labor claim-- Say, trollop, canst thou do the same?"

"The feasts of G.o.ds are glorious fare.

No doubt, to those who're welcome there; But not for such detested things.-- You talk of matron's lips and kings; I, who with wakeful care and pains Against the winter h.o.a.rd my grains, Thee feeding upon ordure view.-- The altars you frequent, 'tis true; But still are driv'n away from thence, And elsewhere, as of much offence.

A life of toil you will not lead, And so have nothing when you need.

Besides all this, you talk with pride Of things that modesty should hide.

You plague me here, while days increase, But when the winter comes you cease.

Me, when the cold thy life bereaves, A plenteous magazine receives.

I think I need no more advance To cure you of your arrogance."

The tenor of this tale infers Two very diff'rent characters; Of men self-praised and falsely vain, And men of real worth in grain.

XX. THE ESCAPE OF SIMONIDES.

Th' attention letters can engage, Ev'n from a base degen'rate age, I've shown before; and now shall show Their l.u.s.tre in another view, And tell a memorable tale, How much they can with heav'n prevail.

Simonides, the very same We lately had a call to name, Agreed for such a sum to blaze A certain famous champion's praise.

He therefore a retirement sought, But found the theme on which he wrote So scanty, he was forced to use Th' accustom'd license of the muse, And introduced and praise bestow'd On Leda's sons to raise his ode; With these the rather making free, As heroes in the same degree.

He warranted his work, and yet Could but one third of payment get.

Upon demanding all the due, "Let them," says he, "pay t'other two, Who take two places in the song; But lest you think I do you wrong And part in dudgeon--I invite Your company to sup this night, For then my friends and kin I see, 'Mongst which I choose to reckon thee."

Choused and chagrined, yet shunning blame, He promised, set the hour, and came; As fearful lest a favour spurn'd Should to an open breach be turn'd.

The splendid banquet shone with plate, And preparations full of state Made the glad house with clamors roar-- When on a sudden at the door Two youths, with sweat and dust besmear'd, Above the human form appear'd, And charged forthwith a little scout To bid Simonides come out, That 'twas his int'rest not to stay.-- The slave, in trouble and dismay, Roused from his seat the feasting bard, Who scarce had stirr'd a single yard Before the room at once fell in, And crush'd the champion and his kin.

No youths before the door are found.-- The thing soon spread the country round; And when each circ.u.mstance was weigh'd, They knew the G.o.ds that visit made, And saved the poet's life in lieu Of those two-thirds which yet were due.

EPILOGUE TO EUTYCHUS.

I yet have stock in hand to spare, And could write on--but will forbear-- First, lest I tire a friend, whose state And avocations are so great: And then, if other pens should try This moral scheme as well as I, They may have something to pursue:-- Yet if the s.p.a.cious field we view, More men are wanting for the plan, Rather than matter for the man.

Now for that prize I make my plea You promised to my brevity.

Keep your kind word; for life, my friend, Is daily nearer to its end; And I shall share your love the less The longer you your hand repress: The sooner you the boon insure, The more the tenure must endure; And if I quick possession take, The greater profit must I make, While yet declining age subsists, A room for friendly aid exists.

Anon with tasteless years grown weak, In vain benevolence will seek To do me good--when Death at hand Shall come and urge his last demand.

'Tis folly, you'll be apt to say, A thousand times to beg and pray Of one with so much worth and sense, Whose gen'rous bounty is propense.

If e'er a miscreant succeeds, By fair confession of his deeds, An innocent offender's case Is far more worthy of your grace.

You for example sake begin, Then others to the lure you'll win, And in rotation more and more Will soon communicate their store.

Consider in your mind how far At stake your word and honour are; And let your closing the debate By what I may congratulate.

I have been guilty of excess Beyond my thought in this address But 'tis not easy to refrain A spirit work'd up to disdain By wretches insolent and vile, With a clear conscience all the while.

You'll ask me, sir, at whom I hint-- In time they may appear in print.

But give me leave to cite a phrase I met with in my boyish days.

"'Tis dangerous for the mean and low Too plain their grievances to show."

This is advice I shall retain While life and sanity remain.

BOOK V.

PROLOGUE, TO PARTICULO

When I resolved my hand to stay For this, that others might have play, On reconsidering of my part I soon recanted in my heart: For if a rival should arise, How can he possibly devise The things that I have let alone, Since each man's fancy is his own, And likewise colouring of the piece?-- It was not therefore mere caprice, But strong reflection made me write: Wherefore since you in tales delight, Which I, in justice, after all, Not Esop's, but Esopian call; Since he invented but a few; I more, and some entirely new, Keeping indeed the ancient style, With fresh materials all the while.

As at your leisure you peruse The fourth collection of my muse, That you may not be at a stand, A fifth shall shortly come to hand; 'Gainst which, if as against the rest, Malignant cavillers protest, Let them carp on, and make it plain They carp at what they can't attain.

My fame's secure, since I can show How men of eminence like you, My little book transcribe and quote, As like to live of cla.s.sic note.

It is th' ambition of my pen To win th' applause of learned men.

I. DEMETRIUS AND MENANDER.

If Esop's name at any time I bring into this measured rhyme, To whom I've paid whate'er I owe, Let all men by these presents know, I with th' old fabulist make free, To strengthen my authority.

As certain sculptors of the age, The more attention to engage, And raise their price, the curious please, By forging of Praxiteles; And in like manner they purloin A Myro to their silver coin.

'Tis thus our fables we can smoke, As pictures for their age bespoke: For biting envy, in disgust To new improvements, favors rust; But now a tale comes in of course, Which these a.s.sertions will enforce.

Demetrius, who was justly call'd The tyrant, got himself install'd, And held o'er Athens impious sway.

The crowd, as ever is the way, Came, eager rushing far and wide, And, "Fortunate event!" they cried.

The n.o.bles came, the throne address'd: The hand by which they were oppress'd They meekly kiss'd, with inward stings Of anguish for the face of things.

The idlers also, with the tribe Of those who to themselves prescribe Their ease and pleasure, in the end Came sneaking, lest they should offend.

Amongst this troop Menander hies, So famous for his comedies.

(Him, though he was not known by sight, The tyrant read with great delight, Struck with the genius of the bard.) In flowing robes bedaub'd with nard, And saunt'ring tread he came along, Whom, at the bottom of the throng, When Phalereus beheld, he said: "How dares that fribble show his head In this our presence?" he was told-- "It is Menander you behold."

Then, changed at once from fierce to bland, He call'd, and took him by the hand.

II. THE THIEF AND THE TRAVELLERS.

Two men equipp'd were on their way; One fearful; one without dismay, An able fencer. As they went, A robber came with black intent; Demanding, upon pain of death, Their gold and silver in a breath.

At which the man of spirit drew, And instantly disarm'd and slew The Thief, his honor to maintain.

Soon as the rogue was fairly slain, The tim'rous chap began to puff, And drew his sword, and stripp'd in buff-- "Leave me alone with him! stand back!

I'll teach him whom he should attack."

Then he who fought, "I wish, my friend, But now you'd had such words to lend; I might have been confirm'd the more, Supposing truth to all you swore; Then put your weapon in the sheath, And keep your tongue within your teeth, Though you may play an actor's part On them who do not know your heart.

I, who have seen this very day How l.u.s.tily you ran away, Experience when one comes to blows How far your resolution goes."

This narrative to those I tell Who stand their ground when all is well; But in the hour of pressing need Abash'd, most shamefully recede.

III. THE BALD MAN AND THE FLY.

As on his head she chanced to sit, A Man's bald pate a Gadfly bit; He, prompt to crush the little foe, Dealt on himself a grievous blow: At which the Fly, deriding said, "You that would strike an insect dead For one slight sting, in wrath so strict, What punishment will you inflict Upon yourself, who was so blunt To do yourself this gross affront?"-- "O," says the party, "as for me, I with myself can soon agree.

The spirit of th' intention's all; But thou, detested cannibal!

Blood-sucker! to have thee secured More would I gladly have endured."

What by this moral tale is meant Is--those who wrong not with intent Are venial; but to those that do Severity, I think, is due.

IV. THE MAN AND THE a.s.s.