Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CXXIX and CXXX
FABLE CXXIX.
THE MAIDEN.
A certain Maiden, somewhat proud, A husband sought from out the crowd Of suitors.
Handsome he's to be, and bold, Agreeable, young, and neither cold Nor jealous.
Wealth she wished, and birth, Talent; in fact, all things on earth.
Who could expect to have them all?
Fortune was kind and helped to call Lovers of rank and eminence.
She thought them mean and wanting sense-- "What!
I accept such people?
Pish!
[Illustration: THE MAIDEN.
] You're doting, if that is your wish.
Look at the paltry creatures.
See, Mark how they grin, and ogle me."
One's vulgar; he who dares propose Has, goodness gracious!
such a nose;
This is too short, and that too tall, Something distinctly wrong in all.
Affected girls are hard to please, Though lovers sue them on their knees.
After the best were spurned, there came The humbler people of less name.
She mocked them, too, unmercifully-- "To greet such men is good of me;
Perhaps they think my chance is poor, Even to venture near my door;
But, Heaven be thanked, I pass my life, Although alone, quite free from strife."
The Belle was with herself content;
But age came soon, the lovers went.
A year or two passed restlessly;
Then comes chagrin, and by-and-by She feels that every hurrying day Chases first smiles, then love away.
Soon wrinkles make her almost faint, And try a thousand sorts of paint;
But all in vain, when past one's prime, To shun that mighty robber, Time: A ruined house you can replace, But not the ruins of a face.
Her pride abates--her mirror cries, "A husband get if you are wise;"
Her heart, too, echoes what is said-- E'en prudes are willing to be wed.
A curious choice, at last, she made, And not a grand one, I'm afraid;
Her choice was what most men called foolish: A clumsy boor, ill-shaped and mulish.
FABLE CXXX.
THE WISHES.
In the Mogul's dominions far away, Certain small spirits there are often found, Who sweep the house and dig the garden ground, And guard your equipage by night and day: If you but touch their work, you spoil the whole.
One of these spirits near the Ganges, then, Toiled at the garden of a citizen;
And with a silent skill worked heart and soul.
He loved his master and his mistress, too, The garden most.
The Zephyrs (Heaven knows), Friends of the genii, as the story goes, Perhaps assisted him, whate'er he'd do.
He toiled unceasingly to show his zeal, Loaded his host with gifts, a brimming store, Boundless of pleasure; indeed, wished no more To leave those friends for whom he thus could feel.
Fickle such spirits are, yet true was he;
His brother genii, joining in a plot, The chief of their republic quickly got, From some caprice or jealous policy, To order him to go to Norway straight.
To guard a hut covered with changeless snows, From India straight to Lapland.
Ere he goes The Spirit with his master holds debate: "They make me leave you, yet I know not why;
For some forgotten fault, and I obey;
But be the time a month, or but a day, I'll grant you now Three Wishes ere I fly-- Three, and no more.
It is not hard, I know, For man to wish--how easy, we all see."
They wished Abundance, and then presently Abundance came; fast from her full hands flow The golden streams, barns brim with piles of wheat;
The cellars with rich casks are almost burst: How to arrange the stores--that is the worst;
What ceaseless care!
what toil of hands and feet!
Thieves plot against them, nobles will still borrow;
The Prince heaps taxes: hapless is their fate;
Their sorrow, too much fortune, luck too great.
They say, "Take from us wealth, let's wake to-morrow Poor as before.
Happy the indigent;
Poverty's better than such wealth," their cry: "Treasures, begone, take wings at once, and fly;
Of that so foolish wish we both repent.
Come, Moderation, mother of Repose, Friend of good sense, O Moderation, come!"
She comes once more unto her former home;
The door behind her joyfully they close.
Two wishes gone, and not so luckily, Their lot was that of those who dream away Life in vain sighings, stealing, day by day, Time better spent in honest industry.
The Spirit smiled at them; ere taking flight, While yet his wings were spread, the one wish more They asked; and this time Wisdom--that's a store That never can embarrass, day or night.
