Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CCXVII and CCXVIII

TO THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY.

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,