Fables of La Fontaine Part 32

But what to do with all this wealth!

What inventories, cares, and worry!

What wear of temper and of health!

Both lived in constant, slavish hurry.

Thieves took by plot, and lords by loan; The king by tax, the poor by tone.

Thus felt the curses which Arise from being rich,-- 'Remove this affluence!' they pray; The poor are happier than they Whose riches make them slaves.

'Go, treasures, to the winds and waves; Come, G.o.ddess of the quiet breast, Who sweet'nest toil with rest, Dear Mediocrity, return!'

The prayer was granted as we learn.

Two wishes thus expended, Had simply ended In bringing them exactly where, When they set out they were.

So, usually, it fares With those who waste in such vain prayers The time required by their affairs.

The goblin laugh'd, and so did they.

However, ere he went away, To profit by his offer kind, They ask'd for wisdom, wealth of mind,-- A treasure void of care and sorrow-- A treasure fearless of the morrow, Let who will steal, or beg, or borrow.

VII.--THE LION'S COURT.[10]

His lion majesty would know, one day, What b.e.s.t.i.a.l tribes were subject to his sway.

He therefore gave his va.s.sals all, By deputies a call, Despatching everywhere A written circular, Which bore his seal, and did import His majesty would hold his court A month most splendidly;-- A feast would open his levee, Which done, Sir Jocko's sleight Would give the court delight.

By such sublime magnificence The king would show his power immense.

Now were they gather'd all Within the royal hall.-- And such a hall! The charnel scent Would make the strongest nerves relent.

The bear put up his paw to close The double access of his nose.

The act had better been omitted; His throne at once the monarch quitted, And sent to Pluto's court the bear, To show his delicacy there.

The ape approved the cruel deed, A thorough flatterer by breed.

He praised the prince's wrath and claws, He praised the odour and its cause.

Judged by the fragrance of that cave, The amber of the Baltic wave, The rose, the pink, the hawthorn bank, Might with the vulgar garlic rank.

The mark his flattery overshot, And made him share poor Bruin's lot; This lion playing in his way, The part of Don Caligula.

The fox approach'd. 'Now,' said the king, 'Apply your nostrils to this thing, And let me hear, without disguise, The judgment of a beast so wise.'

The fox replied, 'Your Majesty will please Excuse'--and here he took good care to sneeze;-- 'Afflicted with a dreadful cold, Your majesty need not be told: My sense of smell is mostly gone.'

From danger thus withdrawn, He teaches us the while, That one, to gain the smile Of kings, must hold the middle place 'Twixt blunt rebuke and fulsome praise; And sometimes use with easy grace, The language of the Norman race.[11]

[10] Phaedrus. IV. 13.

[11] The Normans are proverbial among the French for the oracular noncommittal of their responses.--_Un Normand_, says the proverb, _a son dit et son det.i.t._--Translator.

VIII.--THE VULTURES AND THE PIGEONS.[12]

Mars once made havoc in the air: Some cause aroused a quarrel there Among the birds;--not those that sing, The courtiers of the merry Spring, And by their talk, in leafy bowers, Of loves they feel, enkindle ours; Nor those which Cupid's mother yokes To whirl on high her golden spokes; But naughty hawk and vulture folks, Of hooked beak and talons keen.

The carca.s.s of a dog, 'tis said, Had to this civil carnage led.

Blood rain'd upon the swarded green, And valiant deeds were done, I ween.

But time and breath would surely fail To give the fight in full detail; Suffice to say, that chiefs were slain, And heroes strow'd the sanguine plain, Till old Prometheus, in his chains, Began to hope an end of pains.

'Twas sport to see the battle rage, And valiant hawk with hawk engage; 'Twas pitiful to see them fall,-- Torn, bleeding, weltering, gasping, all.

Force, courage, cunning, all were plied; Intrepid troops on either side No effort spared to populate The dusky realms of hungry Fate.

This woful strife awoke compa.s.sion Within another feather'd nation, Of iris neck and tender heart.

They tried their hand at mediation-- To reconcile the foes, or part.

The pigeon people duly chose Amba.s.sadors, who work'd so well As soon the murderous rage to quell, And stanch the source of countless woes.

A truce took place, and peace ensued.

Alas! the people dearly paid Who such pacification made!

Those cursed hawks at once pursued The harmless pigeons, slew and ate, Till towns and fields were desolate.

Small prudence had the friends of peace To pacify such foes as these!

The safety of the rest requires The bad should flesh each other's spears: Whoever peace with them desires Had better set them by the ears.

[12] Abstemius.

IX.--THE COACH AND THE FLY.[13]

Upon a sandy, uphill road, Which naked in the suns.h.i.+ne glow'd, Six l.u.s.ty horses drew a coach.

Dames, monks, and invalids, its load, On foot, outside, at leisure trode.

The team, all weary, stopp'd and blow'd: Whereon there did a fly approach, And, with a vastly business air.

Cheer'd up the horses with his buzz,-- Now p.r.i.c.ked them here, now p.r.i.c.k'd them there, As neatly as a jockey does,-- And thought the while--he knew 'twas so-- He made the team and carriage go,-- On carriage-pole sometimes alighting-- Or driver's nose--and biting.

And when the whole did get in motion, Confirm'd and settled in the notion, He took, himself, the total glory,-- Flew back and forth in wondrous hurry, And, as he buzz'd about the cattle, Seem'd like a sergeant in a battle, The files and squadrons leading on To where the victory is won.

Thus charged with all the commonweal, This single fly began to feel Responsibility too great, And cares, a grievous crus.h.i.+ng weight; And made complaint that none would aid The horses up the tedious hill-- The monk his prayers at leisure said-- Fine time to pray!--the dames, at will, Were singing songs--not greatly needed!

Thus in their ears he sharply sang, And notes of indignation ran,-- Notes, after all, not greatly heeded.

Erelong the coach was on the top: 'Now,' said the fly, 'my hearties, stop And breathe;--I've got you up the hill; And Messrs. Horses, let me say, I need not ask you if you will A proper compensation pay.'

Thus certain ever-bustling noddies Are seen in every great affair; Important, swelling, busy-bodies, And bores 'tis easier to bear Than chase them from their needless care.

[13] Aesop; also Phaedrus, III., 6.

X.--THE DAIRYWOMAN AND THE POT OF MILK.

A pot of milk upon her cus.h.i.+on'd crown, Good Peggy hasten'd to the market town; Short clad and light, with speed she went, Not fearing any accident; Indeed, to be the nimbler tripper, Her dress that day, The truth to say, Was simple petticoat and slipper.

And, thus bedight, Good Peggy, light,-- Her gains already counted,-- Laid out the cash At single dash, Which to a hundred eggs amounted.

Three nests she made, Which, by the aid Of diligence and care were hatch'd.

'To raise the chicks, I'll easy fix,'

Said she, 'beside our cottage thatch'd.

The fox must get More cunning yet, Or leave enough to buy a pig.

With little care And any fare, He'll grow quite fat and big; And then the price Will be so nice, For which, the pork will sell!

'Twill go quite hard But in our yard I'll bring a cow and calf to dwell-- A calf to frisk among the flock!'

The thought made Peggy do the same; And down at once the milk-pot came, And perish'd with the shock.

Calf, cow, and pig, and chicks, adieu!

Your mistress' face is sad to view; She gives a tear to fortune spilt; Then with the downcast look of guilt Home to her husband empty goes, Somewhat in danger of his blows.

Who buildeth not, sometimes, in air His cots, or seats, or castles fair?

From kings to dairy women,--all,-- The wise, the foolish, great and small,-- Each thinks his waking dream the best.

Some flattering error fills the breast: The world with all its wealth is ours, Its honours, dames, and loveliest bowers.

Instinct with valour, when alone, I hurl the monarch from his throne; The people, glad to see him dead, Elect me monarch in his stead, And diadems rain on my head.