Part 23

Of equal age, lived closed together A Sparrow and a Cat; And he of fur and he of feather Grew so familiar, that The bird could fearlessly provoke His formidable friend in joke. To peck out eyes the one with beak pretended, The other with protruded claws defended. The Cat, however, truth to say, Was always gentle in his play; And though he showed his claws, took care His little chirping friend to spare. The fretful Sparrow, much less meek, His tiny fury tried to wreak On Master Cat, who only purred, And thence this truth may be inferred, That friends should never, in dissension, Let quarrel grow to strife's dimension. Still old acquaintance ne'er forgot Kept their strifes from growing hot, And battle never sprang from play. But yet it chanced, one luckless day, A neighbouring Sparrow heedless flew To where Miss Chirp and Master Mew Had lived so long in amity. At first 'twas well; but, by-and-by, The birds grew jealous, and in rage Gave vent to wrath none could assuage. The Cat, aroused from hearth-rug sleep, Endeavoured first the peace to keep, But finding that in vain, declared, "What! let this stranger Sparrow come To eat my friend in his own home? It shall not be." His claws he bared, And soon, without a spoon or fork, Of Master Chirp made but short work. The Sparrow eaten, said the Cat, "A most delicious morsel, that!" And as no other bird was near, Next swallowed his companion dear.

From this what moral shall I learn? Without a moral, fables are But empty phantoms--deserts bare. Some glimpse of moral I discern, But I'll not trace it; I've no fear But that your Grace will see it clear. For you 'tis only simple play; But for my muse in any way 'Twere toil. In fact, I'll not the truth let fall For you, who need it not at all.

FABLE CCXVIII.

THE MISER AND THE APE.

A Man was a Miser; every one knows That his was a vice which grows and grows: This was a man that filled jars and buckets, Old stockings and coffers, with pistoles and ducats. 'Tis a maxim of mine that such things left unused, I mean pistoles and ducats, are simply abused. To secure all his wealth from the lovers of stealth, My Miser had built him a home, Surrounded by waves with their foam, And there with a pleasure the which To some seems but poor, to some rich, He heaped up his wealth with delight, And every day, and each night, He counted the sum, and re-counted, And gloated to see how it mounted; But, somehow, count well as he might, The gold pieces never came right. And the source of this grievous disaster Was this, that an Ape, than his master More wise, to my mind, took a pleasure In flinging to seaward his treasure. The Miser secure, With his double-locked door, Was wont to leave silver and gold All loose on his table, untold. "Ah! ah!" said the Monkey, one day; "I'll fling this in the sea; 'twill be gay." Now for me it were hard to decide If the Master or Ape were the wiser, 'Twould be half for the Ape, half for Miser. Well, as I've said, the Ape, one day, Laying hands on Master's gold, Many a ducat flung away, With sovereigns new and angels old. With huge delight he tried his skill, And ducks and drakes made with a will, Of golden coins which mortals seem To think of mortal goods the cream. In fact, had not the Monkey heard The key within the key-hole stirred, And feared its Master, every coin Had gone its comrades to rejoin, And 'neath the waves with golden flecks Had lit the gloomy floor of wrecks. Now, blessings on each Miser's head, Both whilst he lives and when he's dead.

TO THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY,

In Answer to a Request for a Fable on "The Cat and the Mouse."

To please the youthful Prince whom courtly fame Destines entempled in my works to be, How shall I write a fable with this name-- Le Chat et la Souris? ("The Cat and the Mouse.")

How can I represent in verse a maid Who, sweet in aspect, yet still ruthless played With hearts her charms snared, as you see Le petit Chat does la Souris?

Shall I sketch Fortune, and show her deceit?-- Tell how she gulls the world with the old cheat? Treating poor self-complacent friends you see Comme le Chat does la Souris?

Shall I depict of all earth's royalty The only one her restless wheel that stays? The one who wars with Europe's chivalry; And with the strongest of his foemen plays, Comme le Chat with la Souris?

But as I write, there comes, insensibly, The plan that suits me, if I don't mistake; I should spoil all if lazy I should be: Mockery the Prince of my poor muse would make, Comme le Chat of la Souris.

FABLE CCXIX.

THE OLD CAT AND THE YOUNG MOUSE.

A young Mouse, small and innocent, Implored an Old Cat's clemency:-- "Raminagrobis, let me live! Your royal mercy, monarch, give! A Mouse so little, sir, as I A tiny meal can well supply. How could I starve a family? Host, hostess, only look at me; I fatten on a grain of wheat: A mite my dinner makes complete. I'm thin, too, now;--just wait a bit, And for your children I'll be fit." Thus to the Cat the Mouse, aggrieved; The other answered. "You're deceived. Is it to me you talk like that? Go, tell the deaf and dumb--not me: Old Cats don't pardon, so you'll see. The law condemns, and you must die: Descend, and tell the Fates that I Have stopped your preaching, and be sure My children's meals will not be fewer." He kept his word; and to my fable I add a moral, as I'm able: Youth hopes to win all by address; But age is ever pitiless.

FABLE CCXX.

THE BAT, THE BUSH, AND THE DUCK.

A Bat, a Bush, and Duck, one day, Finding home business would not pay, Resolved their purses to unite, And risks of foreign trade invite. Soon with factors, counters, agents, And all the merchants' usual pageants, Ledgers, day-books, and all that, Surrounded, they grew rich and fat. All went on well, till, lucklessly, A cargo, trusted to the sea, And traversing a rock-bound strait, Ill-piloted, endured the fate Of all the other treasures which King Neptune's sea-roofed vaults enrich. Great cries of grief the trio uttered,-- That is to say, they only muttered: For every little merchant knows That credit loves not traders' woes. But, spite of every cautious plan, The tale through all the city ran; And now Duck, Bush, and Bat were seen Ready to wear the bonnet green,[1] Without or credit or resources, For none would ope for them their purses. All sorts of creditors daily arrived, With bailiffs and writs; and the door scarce survived The continual thrum Of their creditors' glum; And, of course, the Bush, Bat, and the Duck were intent To find means this importunate crowd to content. The Bush, with his thorns, caught the men that went by, And said, with a sort of a pitiful cry, "Pray, sirs, can you tell in what part of the sea The wealth of myself and my partners may be?" Whilst that diver, the Duck, plunging down out of sight, Went to find them, he said, if he possibly might. But the Bat, followed daily by bailiffs and duns, At noon all the haunts of the human race shuns; And, stricken with shame, to keep quite out of sight, Hides in ruins all day, and flies only by night.

Many a debtor have I known-- Neither Bush, nor Bat, nor Duck-- Who even had not such ill luck As was upon this trio thrown, But simple lords, who, shunning snares, Sneaked always down by the back stairs.

[1] An allusion to an ancient custom, which allowed debtors to be free of their creditors, if they would wear constantly a green cap; the public disgrace being considered equivalent to a discharge in full.

FABLE CCXXI.

THE EAGLE AND THE MAGPIE.

The Eagle, queen of the broad sky, Met, one day, in a field, the Pie-- In mind and language different, In plumage, and in every bent. Chance brought them into a by way: The Magpie was afraid to stay. The Eagle, having dined but lately, Assured her calmly and sedately. "Come, let's be social," said the Eagle, then; "And if the lord of gods and men Sometimes is weary of the king Who rules the universe, the thing Is clear, that ennui may e'en vex One who serves Jove. Amuse me!--come, And chatter as you do at home; It is not me you will perplex." The Pie began at once to gabble On this and that, on lords and rabble; Just like the man in Horace--just, Good, bad, indifferent, all on trust; Talking incessant, and still worse Than the poor fool in the famed verse. She offers, if it please his grace, To skip about, and watch each place He wishes. Jove knows that the Pie Was well constructed for a spy. The eagle answers, angrily, "Don't leave your home, my tattling friend. Adieu! I have no wish to send A gossip to corrupt my court, And spread each lying, false report: I hate a gossip." Quite content, Maggy cared little where she went. To dwell among the gods or kings Is not the pleasantest of things; That honour has its pangs also. Detractors, spies, and many a foe, Gracious and bland enough in face, But false in heart, infest each place, And make you odious. In courts wear Coats of two colours, or take care.

FABLE CCXXII.

THE QUARREL OF THE DOGS AND THE CATS; AND, ALSO, THAT OF THE CATS AND THE MICE.

Discord has always ruled this universe; Our world of this could many facts rehearse. This goddess over countless subjects reigns; The elements not Jupiter himself restrains; Nor these four potentates alone wage war: In many races there's a ceaseless jar. A house once, full of Dogs and Cats, grew free Of strife, at last, by many a grave decree. The master fixed their hours, and every meal, And let the quarrelsome his horsewhip feel. They live, at last, like cousins, almost brothers, And furnish quite examples to all others. At length peace ended;--some stray tempting bone, Some broth, or little preference to one shown, Made both belligerents half crazy run. To plead the grievous injury that's done, I've heard that learned writers of old law Attribute this to some small legal flaw. Be what it might, they both made angry claims, And set the kitchen and the hall in flames. Some loud for Dog and some for Cat cried out: The Cats went mewing, the Dogs whined about. They deafened every one. Cats' advocate Referred to the decree; and the debate Ceased at that word; but still they searched in vain Where it was hid, and sought and sought again. The Mice had eaten it; then, lo, once more The Mice were sufferers--many, many a score The old Cats swallowed--some, with cruel claws, Expounded to the Mice their code of laws; Laid ambuscades; caught them in many ways, And from their master obtained food and praise. Mais à nos moutons. Not beneath the skies Lives there a creature without enemies. 'Tis Nature's law; and how is purblind man The secret of Gods mysteries to scan? It is God's will; further I do not go: We waste our time in trying but to know. Man is, at sixty years, a wondering fool, Fit to be whipped, and sent again to school.

FABLE CCXXIII.

LOVE AND FOLLY.

All is mysterious with Love,-- His bow and arrow, torch, and wings. 'Tis not a day's work in a grove. To master these momentous things.

Explain them my poor muse can not; My object is but, in my way, To tell of Cupid's wretched lot, And how he lost the light of day.

Whether that fate be ill or well For those whom Cupid since has met, Lovers alone can rightly tell: I cannot, though I've felt his net.

Folly and Love together played, One day, before he lost his sight; But yet, as people will, they strayed From friendship, and got stung by spite.

Disputes are really melancholy! Love wanted all the gods and men As umpires; but impatient Folly Preferred it settled there and then;

And gave poor Cupid such a blow, That both his pretty eyes were seared. For blessed sight gave blindness--lo! Their heaven's blue brightness disappeared.

His mother, Venus, heard his grief, And cried for vengeance, like one mad, On Jove and Nemesis,--in brief, On gods of all kinds, good and bad.

The case, she said, was very strong: Her blind son would require a stick And dog, to help him walk along. Alas! for cruel Folly's trick.

The gods poor Cupid's case discussed,-- And boys and girls in love decide, Decreeing that it's only just, Folly should Love in future guide.

FABLE CCXXIV.

THE WOLF AND THE FOX.

How comes this general discontent? Here is a man, for lack of wit, Longing to live beneath the tent The soldier's longing so to quit.

A certain Fox aspired to be A Wolf: and who's prepared to say The Wolf may not think luxury Consists in the lamb's peaceful play?

It much surprises me to find A poet prince, but eight years old, Who writes prose of a better kind Than I can verse--aye, twenty fold-- Though long experience makes me bold.

The thoughts throughout his fable spread Are not a poet's work, I know. They're numerous and better said; Unto a prince the praise we owe.

I play upon a simple pipe: That is my talent--just to please; But soon my hero, growing ripe, The clarion will make me seize.

I am no prophet, yet I read The starry signs that promise give. His glorious acts will Homer need; Homer, alas! he does not live.

The Fox said to the Wolf, one day, "My dear, I have but old tough hens for my poor cheer! One wearies of the food; but you feed well, And with less hazard. I, where people dwell, Slink round, while you keep prudently away. Teach me your trade, my noble comrade, pray! Make me the first of all my race who slew A good fat sheep, and took him for a stew!" "I shall not be ungrateful," the Wolf said; "'Tis well, I have a brother newly dead; Put on his skin." Fox took it, and obeyed. The Wolf then bid him not to be afraid Of all the mastiffs of the shepherds flock: The Fox learnt of his maxims the whole stock, First blundered much, then studied all he could, And, lastly, well the precepts understood. Just as he finished, there came passing by A drove of sheep. He runs at them--they fly. The new-made Wolf spreads terror everywhere; And frightened bleatings fill the troubled air. So in Achilles arms Patroclus came:-- Mothers and old men shudder at his name. The sheep see fifty wolves; and, in full cry, Dogs, sheep, and shepherds to the village fly. One only, as a hostage, left behind, Is by the villain seized. Upon the wind, Just then, came crow of lusty chanticleer: The pupil snapped the fowl, and without fear, Threw by his school-dress, all his task forgot, And ran off, heedless of his future lot. How useless was this counterfeiting then! The changed suit hindered not the watchful men. They follow in his track the self-same day, And when they find him, they are quick to slay.

From your unequalled mind my poor muse drew The story and its moral, plain but true.

FABLE CCXXV.

THE CRAB AND ITS DAUGHTER.

Sages are often, like the crabs, inclined To backward step, and leave their goal behind. This is the sailor's art, and, now and then, The artifice of deep, designing men, Who feign the opposite of their intent, To put their adversaries off the scent. My subject is a trifle; but how wide The field on which its morals may be tried! Some general may conquer, should he heed it, An army with a hundred chiefs to lead it. His plans of march and counter-march may be At first a secret, then a victory. No use in prying, when he would conceal; From Fate's decrees one cannot make appeal. The tide grows insurmountable, at length; Against a Jove the gods may waste their strength. Louis and Fate seem partners now, in glory, And draw the world along. But to my story.

Said Mother Crab to Daughter Crab, one day, "How can you step in such an ugly way? Do try to go a little straighter, dear!" The little Crab made answer, with a sneer, "Look at yourself! It's very well to talk, But it was you who taught me how to walk: From you, and from your friends, I took my gait; If they go crooked, how can I go straight?"

She told the truth--for lessons that we learn From family examples last the longest. They teach us good and evil, in its turn; And oft the latter lessons are the strongest. As to the way of walking, let me add, That turning backs has often merit in it In war, for instance, it is far from bad, If people do it at the proper minute.

FABLE CCXXVI.

THE FOREST AND THE WOODMAN.

A Woodman, with too strong a stroke, The handle of his brave axe broke, Broke it beyond repair; For, though he ranged the Forest-side, Of proper trees both far and wide The scanty wood seemed bare. Then to the sylvan gods he prayed. That they his steps would sweetly guide Unto the spot where they had made That branch for which he sighed.

To gain his bread himself he'd take Far, far away; and, for their sake.

Would spare both fir and oak. "Respected are their charms and age, And graceful in the poet's page"-- 'Twas thus the Woodman spoke. The innocent Forest gave the bough. The Woodman hacked both oak and fir! The groaning Forest soon found how Her gift brought death to her.

Behold the way the world doth spin. Some men--say, politicians--win A place: then bite their friend! Of them I tire. But should dear trees Bear such rude outrages as these, And I not mourn their end? In vain I sing: it is no use; Although my dart stings where 'tis hurled. Ingratitude and gross abuse Are no less in the world.

FABLE CCXXVII.

THE FOX, THE FLIES, AND THE HEDGEHOG.

Wounded and weak, and dripping fast with blood, A Fox crept wearily through mire and mud. Quickly attracted by the hopeful sight, A Fly--a restless, winged parasite-- Came to show sympathy--and bite. The Fox accused the gods on high, Thought Fate had vexed him cruelly. "Why attack me?--am I a treat? When were the Foxes thought good meat? I, the most nimble, clever beast, Am I to be for flies a feast? Now Heaven confound the paltry thing So small, yet with so sharp a sting!" A Hedgehog, hearing all his curses (His first appearance in my verses), Wished to set the poor beast free Of the Flies' importunity. "My neighbour," said the worthy soul, "I'll use my darts, and slay the whole." "For Heaven's sake!" poor Reynard says, "Don't do it! Let them go their ways. These animals are full, you see: New ones will bite more greedily."

Such torments in this land are seen,-- Courtiers and magistrates, I mean. Great Aristotle likens flies To certain men; and he was wise. But when such folk get full of gold, They're less importunate, I'm told.

FABLE CCXXVIII.

THE HAWK, THE KING, AND THE FALCON.

TO MONSEIGNEUR THE PRINCE DE CONTI.