Fables of La Fontaine Part 24

I like her logic, I must say.

There takes place nothing on this planet, But Fortune ends, whoe'er began it.

In all adventures good or ill, We look to her to foot the bill.

Has one a stupid, empty pate, That serves him never till too late, He clears himself by blaming Fate!

[15] Aesop.

XII.--THE DOCTORS.[16]

The selfsame patient put to test Two doctors, Fear-the-worst and Hope-the-best.

The latter hoped; the former did maintain The man would take all medicine in vain.

By different cures the patient was beset, But erelong cancell'd nature's debt, While nursed As was prescribed by Fear-the-worst.

But over the disease both triumph'd still.

Said one, 'I well foresaw his death.'

'Yes,' said the other, 'but my pill Would certainly have saved his breath.'

[16] Aesop, and others.

XIII.--THE HEN WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS.[17]

How avarice loseth all, By striving all to gain, I need no witness call But him whose thrifty hen, As by the fable we are told, Laid every day an egg of gold.

'She hath a treasure in her body,'

Bethinks the avaricious noddy.

He kills and opens--vexed to find All things like hens of common kind.

Thus spoil'd the source of all his riches, To misers he a lesson teaches.

In these last changes of the moon, How often doth one see Men made as poor as he By force of getting rich too soon!

[17] Aesop.

XIV.--THE a.s.s CARRYING RELICS.[18]

An a.s.s, with relics for his load, Supposed the wors.h.i.+p on the road Meant for himself alone, And took on lofty airs, Receiving as his own The incense and the prayers.

Some one, who saw his great mistake, Cried, 'Master Donkey, do not make Yourself so big a fool.

Not you they wors.h.i.+p, but your pack; They praise the idols on your back, And count yourself a paltry tool.'

'Tis thus a brainless magistrate Is honour'd for his robe of state.

[18] Aesop; also Faerno.

XV.--THE STAG AND THE VINE.[19]

A stag, by favour of a vine, Which grew where suns most genial s.h.i.+ne, And form'd a thick and matted bower Which might have turn'd a summer shower, Was saved from ruinous a.s.sault.

The hunters thought their dogs at fault, And call'd them off. In danger now no more The stag, a thankless wretch and vile, Began to browse his benefactress o'er.

The hunters, listening the while, The rustling heard, came back, With all their yelping pack, And seized him in that very place.

'This is,' said he, 'but justice, in my case.

Let every black ingrate Henceforward profit by my fate.'

The dogs fell to--'twere wasting breath To pray those hunters at the death.

They left, and we will not revile 'em, A warning for profaners of asylum.

[19] Aesop.

XVI.--THE SERPENT AND THE FILE.[20]

A serpent, neighbour to a smith, (A neighbour bad to meddle with,) Went through his shop, in search of food, But nothing found, 'tis understood, To eat, except a file of steel, Of which he tried to make a meal.

The file, without a spark of pa.s.sion, Address'd him in the following fas.h.i.+on:-- 'Poor simpleton! you surely bite With less of sense than appet.i.te; For ere from me you gain One quarter of a grain, You'll break your teeth from ear to ear.

Time's are the only teeth I fear.'

This tale concerns those men of letters, Who, good for nothing, bite their betters.

Their biting so is quite unwise.

Think you, ye literary sharks, Your teeth will leave their marks Upon the deathless works you criticise?

Fie! fie! fie! men!

To you they're bra.s.s--they're steel--they're diamond!

[20] Phaedrus, Book IV. 8; also Aesop.

XVII.--THE HARE AND THE PARTRIDGE.

Beware how you deride The exiles from life's sunny side: To you is little known How soon their case may be your own.

On this, sage Aesop gives a tale or two, As in my verses I propose to do.

A field in common share A partridge and a hare, And live in peaceful state, Till, woeful to relate!

The hunters' mingled cry Compels the hare to fly.

He hurries to his fort, And spoils almost the sport By faulting every hound That yelps upon the ground.

At last his reeking heat Betrays his snug retreat.

Old Tray, with philosophic nose, Snuffs carefully, and grows So certain, that he cries, 'The hare is here; bow wow!'

And veteran Ranger now,-- The dog that never lies,-- 'The hare is gone,' replies.

Alas! poor, wretched hare, Back comes he to his lair, To meet destruction there!

The partridge, void of fear, Begins her friend to jeer:-- 'You bragg'd of being fleet; How serve you, now, your feet?'

Scarce has she ceased to speak,-- The laugh yet in her beak,-- When comes her turn to die, From which she could not fly.

She thought her wings, indeed, Enough for every need; But in her laugh and talk, Forgot the cruel hawk!