Chapter 6

THE PROLOGUE.

The matter which Æsop, the inventor {of Fables}, has provided, I have polished in Iambic verse. The advantages of {this} little work are twofold--that it excites laughter, and by counsel guides the life {of man}. But if any one shall think fit to cavil, because not only wild beasts, but even trees speak, let him remember that we are disporting in fables.

FABLE I.

THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.

Driven by thirst, a Wolf and a Lamb had come to the same stream; the Wolf stood above, and the Lamb at a distance below. Then, the spoiler, prompted by a ravenous maw, alleged a pretext for a quarrel. “Why,” said he, “have you made the water muddy for me {while I am} drinking?” The Fleece-bearer, trembling, {answered}: “Prithee, Wolf, how can I do what you complain of? The water is flowing downwards from you to where I am drinking.” The other, disconcerted by the force of truth, {exclaimed}: “Six months ago, you slandered me.” “Indeed,” answered the Lamb, “I was not born {then}.” “By Hercules,” said {the Wolf}, “{then ’twas} your father slandered me;” and so, snatching him up, he tore him to pieces, killing him unjustly.

This Fable is applicable to those men who, under false pretences, oppress the innocent.

FABLE II.

THE FROGS ASKING FOR A KING.

When Athens[1] was flourishing under just laws, liberty grown wanton embroiled the city, and license relaxed the reins of ancient discipline. Upon this, the partisans of factions conspiring, Pisistratus the Tyrant[2] seized the citadel. When the Athenians were lamenting their sad servitude (not that he was cruel, but because every burden is grievous to those who are unused to it), and began to complain, Æsop related a Fable to the following effect:--

“The Frogs, roaming at large in their marshy fens, with loud clamour demanded of Jupiter a king, who, by {his} authority, might check their dissolute manners. The Father of the Gods smiled, and gave them a little Log, which, on being thrown {among them} startled the timorous race by the noise and sudden commotion in the bog. When it had lain for some time immersed in the mud, one {of them} by chance silently lifted his head above the water, and having taken a peep at the king, called up all the rest. Having got the better of their fears, vying with each other, they swim towards him, and the insolent mob leap upon the Log. After defiling it with every kind of insult, they sent to Jupiter, requesting another king, because the one that had been given them was useless. Upon this, he sent them a Water Snake,[3] who with his sharp teeth began to gobble them up one after another. Helpless they strive in vain to escape death; terror deprives them of voice. By stealth, therefore, they send through Mercury a request to Jupiter, to succour them in their distress. Then said the God in reply: ‘Since you would not be content with your good fortune, continue to endure your bad fortune.’”

“Do you also, O fellow-citizens,” said {Æsop}, “submit to the present evil, lest a greater one befall you.”

[Footnote I.1: _When Athens_)--Ver. 1. This probably alludes to the government of Solon, when Archon of Athens.]

[Footnote I.2: _Pisistratus the Tyrant_)--Ver. 5. From Suidas and Eusebius we learn that Æsop died in the fifty-fourth Olympiad, while Pisistratus did not seize the supreme power at Athens till the first year of the fifty-fifth. These dates, however, have been disputed by many, and partly on the strength of the present passage.]

[Footnote I.3: _A Water-Snake_)--Ver. 24. Pliny tells us that the “hydrus” lives in the water, and is exceedingly venomous. Some Commentators think that Phædrus, like Æsop, intends to conceal a political meaning under this Fable, and that by the Water-Snake he means Caligula, and by the Log, Tiberius. Others, perhaps with more probability, think that the cruelty of Tiberius alone is alluded to in the mention of the snake. Indeed, it is doubtful whether Phædrus survived to the time of Caligula: and it is more generally believed that the First and Second Books were written in the time of Augustus and Tiberius.]

FABLE III.

THE VAIN JACKDAW AND THE PEACOCK.

That one ought not to plume oneself on the merits which belong to another, but ought rather to pass his life in his own proper guise, Æsop has given us this illustration:--

A Jackdaw, swelling[4] with empty pride, picked up some feathers which had fallen from a Peacock, and decked himself out {therewith}; upon which, despising his own {kind}, he mingled with a beauteous flock of Peacocks. They tore his feathers from off the impudent bird, and put him to flight with their beaks. The Jackdaw, {thus} roughly handled, in grief hastened to return to his own kind; repulsed by whom, he had to submit to sad disgrace. Then said one of those whom he had formerly despised: “If you had been content with our station, and had been ready to put up with what nature had given, you would neither have experienced the former affront, nor would your ill fortune have had to feel {the additional pang} of this repulse.”

[Footnote I.4: _A Jackdaw, swelling_)--Ver. 4. Scheffer thinks that Sejanus is alluded to under this image.]

FABLE IV.

THE DOG CARRYING SOME MEAT ACROSS A RIVER.

He who covets what belongs to another, deservedly loses his own.

As a Dog, swimming[5] through a river, was carrying a piece of meat, he saw his own shadow in the watery mirror; and, thinking that it was another booty carried by another {dog}, attempted to snatch it away; but his greediness {was} disappointed, he both dropped the food which he was holding in his mouth, and was after all unable to reach that at which he grasped.

[Footnote I.5: _As a Dog swimming_)--Ver. 9. Lessing finds some fault with the way in which this Fable is related, and with fair reason. The Dog swimming would be likely to disturb the water to such a degree, that it would be impossible for him to see with any distinctness the reflection of the meat. The version which represents him as crossing a bridge is certainly more consistent with nature.]

FABLE V.

THE COW, THE SHE-GOAT, THE SHEEP, AND THE LION.

An alliance with the powerful is never to be relied upon: the present Fable testifies the truth of my maxim.

A Cow, a She-Goat, and a Sheep[6] patient under injuries, were partners in the forests with a Lion. When they had captured a Stag of vast bulk, thus spoke the Lion, after it had been divided into shares: “Because my name is Lion, I take the first; the second you will yield to me because I am courageous; then, because I am the strongest,[7] the third will fall to my lot; if anyone touches the fourth, woe betide him.”

Thus did unscrupulousness seize upon the whole prey for itself.

[Footnote I.6: _And a Sheep_)--Ver. 3. Lessing also censures this Fable on the ground of the partnership being contrary to nature; neither the cow, the goat, nor the sheep feed on flesh.]

[Footnote I.7: _I am the strongest_)--Ver. 9. Some critics profess to see no difference between “sum fortis” in the eighth line, and “plus valeo” here; but the former expression appears to refer to his courage, and the latter to his strength. However, the second and third reasons are nothing but reiterations of the first one, under another form. Davidson remarks on this passage: “I am not certain that the Poet meant any distinction; nay, there is, perhaps, a propriety in supposing that he industriously makes the Lion plead twice upon the same title, to represent more strongly by what unjust claims men in power often invade the property of another.”]

FABLE VI.

THE FROGS’ COMPLAINT AGAINST THE SUN.

Æsop, on seeing the pompous wedding of a thief, who was his neighbour, immediately began to relate the following story:

Once on a time, when the Sun was thinking of taking a wife,[8] the Frogs sent forth their clamour to the stars. Disturbed by their croakings, Jupiter asked the cause of their complaints. Then {said} one of the inhabitants of the pool: “As it is, by himself he parches up all the standing waters, and compels us unfortunates to languish and die in {our} scorched abode. What is to become of us, if he beget children?”

[Footnote I.8: _Taking a wife_)--Ver. 3. It has been suggested by Brotier and Desbillons, that in this Fable Phædrus covertly alludes to the marriage which was contemplated by Livia, or Livilla, the daughter of the elder Drusus and Antonia, and the wife of her first-cousin, the younger Drusus, with the infamous Sejanus, the minister and favourite of Tiberius, after having, with his assistance, removed her husband by poison. In such case, the Frogs will represent the Roman people, the Sun Sejanus, who had greatly oppressed them, and by Jupiter, Tiberius will be meant.]

FABLE VII.

THE FOX AND THE TRAGIC MASK.

A Fox, by chance, casting his eyes on a Tragic Mask: “Ah,” said she, “great as is its beauty, still it has no brains.”[9]

This is meant for those to whom fortune has granted honor and renown, leaving them void of common sense.

[Footnote I.9: _Has no brains_)--Ver. 2. To make the sense of this remark of the Fox the more intelligible, we must bear in mind that the ancient masks covered the whole head, and sometimes extended down to the shoulders; consequently, their resemblance to the human head was much more striking than in the masks of the present day.]

FABLE VIII.

THE WOLF AND THE CRANE.

He who expects a recompense for his services from the dishonest commits a twofold mistake; first, because he assists the undeserving, and in the next place, because he cannot be gone while he is yet safe.

A bone that he had swallowed stuck in the jaws of a Wolf. Thereupon, overcome by extreme pain, he began to tempt all and sundry by great rewards to extract the cause of misery. At length, on his taking an oath, a Crane was prevailed on, and, trusting the length of her neck to his throat, she wrought, with danger to herself, a cure for the Wolf. When she demanded the promised reward for this {service}, “You are an ungrateful one,” replied {the Wolf}, “to have taken your head in safety out of my mouth, and {then} to ask for a reward.”

FABLE IX.

THE SPARROW AND THE HARE.

Let us show, in a few lines, that it is unwise to be heedless[10] of ourselves, while we are giving advice to others.

A Sparrow upbraided a Hare that had been pounced upon by an Eagle, and was sending forth piercing cries. “Where now,” said he, “is that fleetness for which you are so remarkable? Why were your feet {thus} tardy?” While he was speaking, a Hawk seizes him unawares, and kills him, shrieking aloud with vain complaints. The Hare, almost dead, as a consolation in his agony, {exclaimed}: “You, who so lately, free from care, were ridiculing my misfortunes, have now to deplore your own fate with as woful cause.”

[Footnote I.10: _To be heedless_)--Ver. 1. “Cavere” is a word of legal signification, meaning to give advice to a person by way of assistance or precaution, as a patron to his client.]

FABLE X.

THE WOLF, THE FOX, AND THE APE.

Whoever has once become notorious by base fraud, even if he speaks the truth, gains no belief. To this, a short Fable of Æsop bears witness.

A Wolf indicted a Fox upon a charge of theft; the latter denied that she was amenable to the charge. Upon this, the Ape sat as judge between them; and when each of them had pleaded his cause, the Ape is said to have pronounced {this} sentence: “You, {Wolf}, appear not to have lost what you demand; I believe that you, {Fox}, have stolen what you so speciously deny.”

FABLE XI.

THE ASS AND THE LION HUNTING.

A dastard, who in his talk brags of his prowess, and is devoid of courage,[11] imposes upon strangers, but is the jest of all who know him.

A Lion having resolved to hunt in company with an Ass, concealed him in a thicket, and at the same time enjoined him to frighten the wild beasts with his voice, to which they were unused, while he himself was to catch them as they fled. Upon this, Long-ears, with all his might, suddenly raised a cry, and terrified the beasts with {this} new cause of astonishment.[12] While, in their alarm, they are flying to the well-known outlets, they are overpowered by the dread onset of the Lion; who, after he was wearied with slaughter, called forth the Ass {from his retreat}, and bade him cease his clamour. On this the other, in his insolence, {inquired}: “What think you of the assistance given by my voice?” “Excellent!” said {the Lion}, “so much so, that if I had not been acquainted with your spirit and your race, I should have fled in alarm like {the rest}.”

[Footnote I.11: _Devoid of courage_)--Ver. 1. Burmann suggests, with great probability, that Phædrus had here in mind those braggart warriors, who have been so well described by Plautus and Terence, under the characters of Pyrgopolynices and Thraso.]

[Footnote I.12: _This new cause of astonishment_)--Ver. 8. Never having heard the voice of an ass in the forests before.]

FABLE XII.

THE STAG AT THE STREAM.

This story shows that what you contemn is often found of more utility than what you load with praises.

A Stag, when he had drunk at a stream, stood still, and gazed upon his likeness in the water. While there, in admiration, he was praising his branching horns, and finding fault with the extreme thinness of his legs, suddenly roused by the cries of the huntsmen, he took to flight over the plain, and with nimble course escaped the dogs. Then a wood received the beast; in which, being entangled and caught by his horns, the dogs began to tear him to pieces with savage bites. While dying, he is said to have uttered these words: “Oh, how unhappy am I, who now too late find out how useful to me were the things that I despised; and what sorrow the things I used to praise, have caused me.”

FABLE XIII.

THE FOX AND THE RAVEN.

He who is delighted at being flattered with artful words, {generally} pays the ignominious penalty of a late repentance.

As a Raven, perched in a lofty tree, was about to eat a piece of cheese, stolen from a window,[13] a Fox espied him, {and} thereupon began thus to speak: “O Raven, what a glossiness there is upon those feathers of yours! What grace you carry in your shape and air! If you had a voice, no bird whatever would be superior to you.” On this, the other, while, in his folly, attempting to show off his voice, let fall the cheese from his mouth, which the crafty Fox with greedy teeth instantly snatched up. Then, too late, the Raven, thus, in his stupidity overreached, heaved a bitter sigh.

By this story[14] it is shown, how much ingenuity avails, {and} how wisdom is always an overmatch for strength.

[Footnote I.13: _From a window_)--Ver. 3. Burmann suggests that the window of a house in which articles of food were exposed for sale, is probably meant.]

[Footnote I.14: _By this story_)--Ver. 13. Heinsius thinks this line and the next to be spurious; because, though Phædrus sometimes at the beginning mentions the design of his Fable, he seldom does so at the end. In this conjecture he is followed by Bentley, Sanadon, and many others of the learned.]

FABLE XIV.

THE COBBLER TURNED PHYSICIAN.

A bungling Cobbler, broken down by want, having begun to practise physic in a strange place, and selling his antidote[15] under a feigned name, gained some reputation for himself by his delusive speeches.

Upon this, the King of the city, who lay ill, being afflicted with a severe malady, asked for a cup, for the purpose of trying him; and then pouring water into it, and pretending that he was mixing poison with the fellow’s antidote, ordered him to drink it off, {in consideration of} a stated reward. Through fear of death, the cobbler then confessed that not by any skill in the medical art, but through the stupidity of the public, he had gained his reputation. The King, having summoned a council, thus remarked: “What think you of the extent of your madness, when you do not hesitate to trust your lives[16] to one to whom no one would trust his feet to be fitted with shoes?”

This, I should say with good reason, is aimed at those through whose folly impudence makes a profit.

[Footnote I.15: _Selling his antidote_)--Ver. 3. “Antidotum” probably means a universal remedy, capable of curing all natural diseases, as well as neutralizing the effects of poison.]

[Footnote I.16: _Trust your lives_)--Ver. 15. He seems to pun upon the word “capita,” as meaning not only “the life,” but “the head,” in contradistinction to “the feet,” mentioned in the next line. As in l. 2 we find that he came to a place where he was not known, we must suppose that the Cobbler confessed to the King his former calling.]

FABLE XV.

THE ASS AND THE OLD SHEPHERD.

In a change of government, the poor change nothing beyond the name of their master. That this is the fact this little Fable shows.

A timorous Old Man was feeding an Ass in a meadow. Frightened by a sudden alarm of the enemy, he tried to persuade the Ass to fly, lest they should be taken prisoners. But he leisurely replied: “Pray, do you suppose that the conqueror will place double panniers upon me?” The Old Man said, “No.” “Then what matters it to me, so long as I have to carry my panniers, whom I serve?”

FABLE XVI.

THE STAG, THE SHEEP, AND THE WOLF.

When a rogue offers his name as surety in a doubtful case, he has no design to act straight-forwardly, but is looking to mischief.

A Stag asked a Sheep for a measure[17] of wheat, a Wolf being his surety. The other, however, suspecting fraud, {replied}: “The Wolf has always been in the habit of plundering and absconding; you, of rushing out of sight with rapid flight: where am I to look for you both when the day comes?”[18]

[Footnote I.17: _For a measure_)--Ver. 3. Properly “modius;” the principal dry measure of the Romans. It was equal to one-third of the amphora, and therefore to nearly two gallons English.]

[Footnote I.18: _Day comes_)--Ver. 6. “Quum dies adveniat,” a law term, signifying “when the day of payment comes.”]

FABLE XVII.

THE SHEEP, THE DOG, AND THE WOLF.

Liars generally[19] pay the penalty of their guilt.

A Dog, who was a false accuser, having demanded of a Sheep a loaf of bread, which he affirmed he had entrusted to her charge; a Wolf, summoned as a witness, affirmed that not only one was owing but ten. Condemned on false testimony, the Sheep had to pay what she did not owe. A few days after, the Sheep saw the Wolf lying in a pit. “This,” said she, “is the reward of villany, sent by the Gods.”

[Footnote I.19: _Liars generally_)--Ver. 1. It is supposed by some that this Fable is levelled against the informers who infested Rome in the days of Tiberius.]

FABLE XVIII.

THE WOMAN IN LABOUR.

No one returns with good will to the place which has done him a mischief.

Her months completed,[20] a Woman in labour lay upon the ground, uttering woful moans. Her Husband entreated her to lay her body on the bed, where she might with more ease deposit her ripe burden. “I feel far from confident,” said she, “that my pains can end in the place where they originated.”

[Footnote I.20: _Her months completed_)--Ver. 2. Plutarch relates this, not as a Fable, but as a true narrative.]

FABLE XIX.

THE BITCH AND HER WHELPS.

The fair words of a wicked man are fraught with treachery, and the subjoined lines warn us to shun them.

A Bitch, ready to whelp,[21] having entreated another that she might give birth to her offspring in her kennel, easily obtained the favour. Afterwards, on the other asking for her place back again, she renewed her entreaties, earnestly begging for a short time, until she might be enabled to lead forth her whelps when they had gained sufficient strength. This time being also expired, {the other} began more urgently to press for her abode: “If” said {the tenant}, “you can be a match for me and my litter, I will depart from the place.”

[Footnote I.21: _Ready to whelp_)--Ver. 3. Justin, B. I.,