Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CXCV and CXCVI

FABLE CXCV.

THE TWO ADVENTURERS AND THE TALISMAN.

I have never heard or read In annals true or fabled story, That paths of pleasure ever led Mortal heroes unto glory;

And in proof of this one sees The labours twelve of Hercules.

However, once, by Talisman Induced, a knight conceived the plan Of mounting horse and couching lance, And seeking lands of fair romance, Accompanied by one he knew.

After a time there came in view A post upon the public way, On which was writ--"A moment stay, Adventurous knight.

If you would see That which no knight has seen before, Venture across yon torrent's roar, And from the root of yonder tree Yon elephant's huge head of stone Raise up, and, without resting, bear To yonder mountain's crest, which proudly stands alone."

Now of these knights one was of those Who shudder at your swashing blows.

"The torrent's deep and broad," he cried;

"And if we reach the other side?

Why climb unto a mountain's crest, With a stone elephant opprest?

'Tis true the artist may have wrought His work on such a scale, a man Might bear it for a yard, then rest;

But tell me not that mortal can Bear it to yonder mountain's top, Not daring once for breath to stay.

Perhaps this mystic head is naught But such as one might bear away;

And if the latter be the truth, Success were honour small, in sooth.

The whole thing is so plain a trick, I'll leave it.

Come, my friend, be quick."

This wise man having passed along, The other crossed his breast, and made A dash across the torrent strong, And found beneath the tree the beast's head laid.

He raised it, and, with breathless stride, He bore it to the mountain's brow, And there, upon a terrace wide, Gazed on a city fair that stretched below.

"Umph!"

cried the elephant, and then Forth swarmed a host of armed men.

All other errant knights but this Would now have shown some cowardice;

But he, so far from turning back, Couched lance in rest, and spurred to the attack.

But what the hero's great surprise, When all the crowd, with joyful cries, Proclaimed him monarch, in the place Of one just dead!

With modest grace The knight declared he was not fit A crown to wear, and then took it.

Sixtus the Pope once said so, too;

(And is it, then, so bad a thing To be a pope, or be a king?

) But Sixtus said what was not true.

Blind fortune to blind courage is a friend;

And often he will gain his end Who rashly acts; whilst he who tarries, By prudence quite deceived, miscarries.

FABLE CXCVI.

THE MISER AND HIS FRIEND.

A Miser once who'd got much money, Was puzzled how to hide that honey;

For ignorance and love of gain Being ever sisters twain, Had left him at a total loss Where to secrete his golden dross;

And why the Miser was so hot to find A place of safety for his hoarded pelf, Was simply the great fear that filled his mind, That some day he should spend and rob himself: Yes, rob himself by gathering pleasure From the usage of his treasure.

Poor Miser!

how I pity your mistake!

Wealth is not wealth unless we use it, And when we do not we abuse it.

Why keep money till the sense Of pleasure dies in impotence?

To gather gold alone is wretched slaving;

To have to watch it makes it not worth having.

However this may be, our Miser might Have found some trusty banker for his gold;

But it seemed better, to his purblind sight, To give it to the depths of earth to hold.

So with a comrade's aid It soon beneath the turf was laid;

But when a little time was past, Our Miser going to re-visit His buried treasure, found a huge deficit.

At first despair oppressed him; but at last He hurried to his comrade, and he said-- "To-morrow I shall want your help again;

Some bags of gold still in my house remain, And they had better with the rest be laid."

The comrade immediately hurried away, And returned all the gold he had taken, Intending to grasp the whole lot the next day;

But in this he was somewhat mistaken;

For the Miser grown wise by the loss of his store, Resolved 'neath the earth to conceal it no more, But to use and enjoy it; and thus the poor thief, By being too clever, came headlong to grief.

In my belief there is no ill in Playing the rascal to a villain.