Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CV and CVI
PHŒBUS AND BOREAS.
Phœbus and Boreas saw a traveller, 'Fended against bad weather prudently.
Autumn had just begun, and then, you see, Caution is useful to the wayfarer.
It rains and shines, and rainbows bright displayed Warned those who ventured out to take a cloak: The Romans called these months, as if in joke, The doubtful.
For this season well arrayed, Our fellow, ready for the pelting rain, Wore a cloak doubled, and of sturdy stuff.
"He thinks," the Wind said, "he is armed enough To 'scape all hazards; but it's quite in vain, For he has not foreseen that I can blow, So that no button in the world avails: I send cloaks flying as I do ships' sails.
It will amuse us just to let him know;
Now, you shall see."
"Agreed," then Phœbus said;
"Then let us bet, without more talking, come, Which of us first shall send him cloakless home: You can begin, and I will hide my head."
'Twas soon arranged, and Boreas filled his throat With vapour, till his cheeks balloons became.
A demon's holiday of lightning-flame And storm came whistling, wrecking many a boat, Shattering many a roof--and all for what?
About a paltry cloak.
He's much ado To save him from a precipice or two.
The Wind but wasted time--one's pleased at that-- The more it raged, but firmer still he drew Around his breast the cloak: the cape just shook, And here and there a shred the tempest took.
At last, the time was up, no more it blew, Then the hot Sun dispersed the cloudy haze, And pierced the weary horseman through and through.
Beneath his heavy mantle sprung hot dew-- No longer could he bear those fervent rays-- He threw his cloak aside (a man of sense);
Not half his power had Phœbus yet employed.
Mildness had won--the Sun was overjoyed: Softness gains more than any violence.
FABLE CVI.
THE BEAR AND THE TWO FRIENDS.
Two Friends, in want, resolved to sell A Bear-skin, though the Bear was well, And still alive.
The Furrier paid Them willingly; the bargain's made.
It was the King of Bears, they said: They'd kill him in an hour or two, And what more could they hope to do?
"The merchant has not such a skin, A guarantee through thick and thin, To fence from e'en the keenest cold With warm, soft, pliant fold on fold: Better to make two cloaks than one."
The bargain's made, the business done, The Bear, in two days, was to die That they agreed on, presently.
They found the Bear, who, at full trot, Came down upon them, raging hot.
The men were thunder-struck; soon done With bargain-making, how they run!
Life against money: they are mute.
One climbs a tree, to shun the brute;
The other, cold as marble, lies Upon his stomach--shuts his eyes;
For he has heard that Bears, instead Of eating fear to touch the dead.
The trap deceives the foolish Bear: He sees the body lying there, Suspects a trick, turns, smells, and sniffs, With many nuzzling cautious whiffs.
"He's dead," said he, "and rather high;"
Then seeks the forest that's hard by.
The merchant, from the tree descending Quickly, to his companion's lending The aid he needs.
"A wondrous sight, To think you've only had a fright.
But where's his skin?
--and did he say Aught in your ear, as there you lay?
For he came, as I plainly saw, And turned you over with his paw."
"He said, 'Another time, at least, Before you sell, first kill the beast."
