Fables of La Fontaine Part 11

XIV.--THE HARE AND THE FROGS.[20]

Once in his bed deep mused the hare, (What else but muse could he do there?) And soon by gloom was much afflicted;-- To gloom the creature's much addicted.

'Alas! these const.i.tutions nervous,'

He cried, 'how wretchedly they serve us!

We timid people, by their action, Can't eat nor sleep with satisfaction; We can't enjoy a pleasure single, But with some misery it must mingle.

Myself, for one, am forced by cursed fear To sleep with open eye as well as ear.

"Correct yourself," says some adviser.

Grows fear, by such advice, the wiser?

Indeed, I well enough descry That men have fear, as well as I.'

With such revolving thoughts our hare Kept watch in soul-consuming care.

A pa.s.sing shade, or leaflet's quiver Would give his blood a boiling fever.

Full soon, his melancholy soul Aroused from dreaming doze By noise too slight for foes, He scuds in haste to reach his hole.

He pa.s.s'd a pond; and from its border bogs, Plunge after plunge, in leap'd the timid frogs, 'Aha! I do to them, I see,'

He cried, 'what others do to me.

The sight of even me, a hare, Sufficeth some, I find, to scare.

And here, the terror of my tramp Hath put to rout, it seems, a camp.

The trembling fools! they take me for The very thunderbolt of war!

I see, the coward never skulk'd a foe That might not scare a coward still below.'

[20] Aesop.

XV.--THE c.o.c.k AND THE FOX.[21]

Upon a tree there mounted guard A veteran c.o.c.k, adroit and cunning; When to the roots a fox up running, Spoke thus, in tones of kind regard:-- 'Our quarrel, brother, 's at an end; Henceforth I hope to live your friend; For peace now reigns Throughout the animal domains.

I bear the news:--come down, I pray, And give me the embrace fraternal; And please, my brother, don't delay.

So much the tidings do concern all, That I must spread them far to-day.

Now you and yours can take your walks Without a fear or thought of hawks.

And should you clash with them or others, In us you'll find the best of brothers;-- For which you may, this joyful night, Your merry bonfires light.

But, first, let's seal the bliss With one fraternal kiss.'

'Good friend,' the c.o.c.k replied, 'upon my word, A better thing I never heard; And doubly I rejoice To hear it from your voice; And, really there must be something in it, For yonder come two greyhounds, which I flatter Myself are couriers on this very matter.

They come so fast, they'll be here in a minute.

I'll down, and all of us will seal the blessing With general kissing and caressing.'

'Adieu,' said fox; 'my errand's pressing; I'll hurry on my way, And we'll rejoice some other day.'

So off the fellow scamper'd, quick and light, To gain the fox-holes of a neighbouring height, Less happy in his stratagem than flight.

The c.o.c.k laugh'd sweetly in his sleeve;-- 'Tis doubly sweet deceiver to deceive.

[21] Aesop.

XVI.--THE RAVEN WIs.h.i.+NG TO IMITATE THE EAGLE.[22]

The bird of Jove bore off a mutton, A raven being witness.

That weaker bird, but equal glutton, Not doubting of his fitness To do the same with ease, And bent his taste to please, Took round the flock his sweep, And mark'd among the sheep, The one of fairest flesh and size, A real sheep of sacrifice-- A dainty t.i.tbit b.e.s.t.i.a.l, Reserved for mouth celestial.

Our gormand, gloating round, Cried, 'Sheep, I wonder much Who could have made you such.

You're far the fattest I have found; I'll take you for my eating.'

And on the creature bleating He settled down. Now, sooth to say, This sheep would weigh More than a cheese; And had a fleece Much like that matting famous Which graced the chin of Polyphemus;[23]

So fast it clung to every claw, It was not easy to withdraw.

The shepherd came, caught, caged, and, to their joy, Gave croaker to his children for a toy.

Ill plays the pilferer the bigger thief; One's self one ought to know;--in brief, Example is a dangerous lure; Death strikes the gnat, where flies the wasp secure.

[22] Aesop; and Corrozet.

[23] _Polyphemus_.--The Cyclop king: _vide_ Homer's Odyssey, Book IX.

XVII.--THE PEAc.o.c.k COMPLAINING TO JUNO.[24]

The peac.o.c.k[25] to the queen of heaven Complain'd in some such words:-- 'Great G.o.ddess, you have given To me, the laughing-stock of birds, A voice which fills, by taste quite just, All nature with disgust; Whereas that little paltry thing, The nightingale, pours from her throat So sweet and ravis.h.i.+ng a note, She bears alone the honours of the spring.'

In anger Juno heard, And cried, 'Shame on you, jealous bird!

Grudge you the nightingale her voice, Who in the rainbow neck rejoice, Than costliest silks more richly tinted, In charms of grace and form unstinted,-- Who strut in kingly pride, Your glorious tail spread wide With brilliants which in sheen do Outs.h.i.+ne the jeweller's bow window?

Is there a bird beneath the blue That has more charms than you?

No animal in everything can s.h.i.+ne.

By just part.i.tion of our gifts divine, Each has its full and proper share; Among the birds that cleave the air, The hawk's a swift, the eagle is a brave one, For omens serves the hoa.r.s.e old raven, The rook's of coming ills the prophet; And if there's any discontent, I've heard not of it.

'Cease, then, your envious complaint; Or I, instead of making up your lack, Will take your boasted plumage from your back.'

[24] Phaedrus, III. 17.

[25] The peac.o.c.k was consecrated to Juno the "Queen of Heaven," and was under her protection.

XVIII.--THE CAT METAMORPHOSED INTO A WOMAN.[26]

A bachelor caress'd his cat, A darling, fair, and delicate; So deep in love, he thought her mew The sweetest voice he ever knew.

By prayers, and tears, and magic art, The man got Fate to take his part; And, lo! one morning at his side His cat, transform'd, became his bride.

In wedded state our man was seen The fool in courts.h.i.+p he had been.

No lover e'er was so bewitch'd By any maiden's charms As was this husband, so enrich'd By hers within his arms.

He praised her beauties, this and that, And saw there nothing of the cat.

In short, by pa.s.sion's aid, he Thought her a perfect lady.

'Twas night: some carpet-gnawing mice Disturb'd the nuptial joys.

Excited by the noise, The bride sprang at them in a trice; The mice were scared and fled.

The bride, scarce in her bed, The gnawing heard, and sprang again,-- And this time not in vain, For, in this novel form array'd, Of her the mice were less afraid.

Through life she loved this mousing course, So great is stubborn nature's force.

In mockery of change, the old Will keep their youthful bent.

When once the cloth has got its fold, The smelling-pot its scent, In vain your efforts and your care To make them other than they are.

To work reform, do what you will, Old habit will be habit still.