Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CXXXI and CXXXII
FABLE CXXXI.
THE VULTURES AND THE PIGEONS.
Mars one day set the sky on fire: A quarrel roused the wild birds' ire-- Not those sweet subjects of the spring, Who in the branches play and sing;
Not those whom Venus to her car Harnesses; but the Vulture race, With crooked beak and villain face.
'Twas for a dog deceased--that's all.
The blood in torrents 'gins to fall;
I only tell the sober truth, They fought it out with nail and tooth.
[Illustration: THE VULTURES AND THE PIGEONS.
] I should want breath for the detail, If I told how with tooth and nail They battled.
Many chiefs fell dead, Many a dauntless hero bled;
Prometheus on his mountain sighed, And hoped Jove nearly satisfied.
'Twas pleasure to observe their pains-- 'Twas sad to see the corpse-strewn plains.
Valour, address, and stratagem, By turns were tried by all of them;
By folks so brave no means were lost To fill each spare place on the coast Of Styx.
Each varied element Ghosts to the distant realm had sent.
This fury roused, at last, deep pity, Within the pigeons' quiet city;
They--of the neck of changing hue, The heart so tender and so true-- Resolved, as well became their nation, To end the war by mediation.
Ambassadors they chose and sent, Who worked with such a good intent, The Vultures cried, "A truce," at last, And wars red horrors from them cast.
Alas!
the Pigeons paid for it;
Their heart was better than their wit;
The cursed race upon them fell, And made a carnage terrible;
Dispeopled every farm and town, And struck the unwise people down.
In this, then, always be decided: Keep wicked people still divided;
The safety of the world depends On that--sow war among their friends;
Contract no peace with such, I say, But this is merely by the way.
FABLE CXXXII
THE COURT OF THE LION.
His Majesty Leo, in order to find The extent of his varied and ample dominions, Had summoned his vassals of every kind, Of all colours and shapes, and of divers opinions.
A circular, signed by His Majesty's hand.
Was the means of conveying the King's invitation-- He promised festivities regally grand (With an evident eye to self-glorification).
His palace was open, of course, to the throng;
What a place!
--a mere slaughter-house, putting it plainly, Where visitors met with an odour so strong, That they strove to protect their olfactories vainly.
The Bear in disgust put a paw to his nose;
He had scarcely the time to repent his grimaces;
For Leo at once in a fury arose, And consigned the poor brute to the Styx, to make faces.
The Monkey, true courtier, approved of the deed-- Said the palace was fit for a king's habitation, And thought neither amber nor musk could exceed The rich odour that gave him such gratification.
His fulsome behaviour had little success;
He was treated the same as the previous aspirant (His Leonine Majesty, let us confess, Was Caligula-like, and a bit of a tyrant).
The Fox trotted up, very servile and sly;
Said the monarch, "No shuffling, but answer me frankly;
Beware how you venture to give your reply: Do you notice that anything smells rather rankly?"
But Reynard was more than a match for his king, And replied that his cold being rather a bad one, He could not at present distinguish a thing By its odour, or even assert that it <i>had</i> one.
There's a hint for plain-speakers and flatterers here-- You should ne'er be too servile nor over-sincere;
And to answer sometimes in a round-about way, Is a dozen times better than plain yea or nay.
FABLE CXXXIII.
