BOOK V.

I. THE WOODMAN AND MERCURY.'

TO M. THE CHEVALIER DE BOUILLON.2

YOUR taste has served my work to guide;
To gain its suffrage I have tried.
You'd have me shun a care too nice,
Or beauty at too dear a price,
Or too much effort, as a vice.

My taste with yours agrees:
Such effort cannot please;

And too much pains about the polish
Is apt the substance to abolish;
Not that it would be right or wise
The graces all to ostracize.

You love them much when delicate;
Nor is it left for me to hate.

As to the scope of Æsop's plan,3

I fail as little as I can.

If this my rhymed and measured speech
Availeth not to please or teach,

I own it not a fault of mine;

Some unknown reason I assign.

Æsop. There is also a version of the story in Rabelais, Book IV. Prologue.

2 La Fontaine's dedication is in initials thus:-"A. M. L. C. D. B." which are interpreted by some as meaning," To M. the Chevalier de Bouillon" (as above), and by others as meaning, "To Monseigneur le Cardinal de Bouillon."

Esop's plan.-Here, as in the dedication of Book VII., Fable II., Book I., Fable I.. Book III., Fable I., Book VI., Fable IV., Book VIII., and Fable I., Book IX., the poet treats of the nature and uses of Fable.

With little strength endued
For battles rough and rude,
Or with Herculean arm to smite,
I show to vice its foolish plight.
In this my talent wholly lies;
Not that it does at all suffice.
My fable sometimes brings to view
The face of vanity purblind

With that of restless envy join'd;

And life now turns upon these pivots two.
Such is the silly little frog

That aped the ox upon her bog.

A double image sometimes shows
How vice and folly do oppose

The ways of virtue and good sense;
As lambs with wolves so grim and gaunt,
The silly fly and frugal ant.

Thus swells my work-a comedy immense-
Its acts unnumber'd and diverse,

Its scene the boundless universe.

Gods, men, and brutes, all play their part
In fields of nature or of art,

And Jupiter among the rest.

Here comes the god who's wont to bear
Jove's frequent errands to the fair,

With wingéd heels and haste;
But other work's in hand to-day.

A man that labour'd in the wood
Had lost his honest livelihood;
That is to say,

His axe was gone astray.
He had no tools to spare;
This wholly earn'd his fare.
Without a hope beside,

He sat him down and cried,
'Alas, my axe! where can it be?
O Jove! but send it back to me,

And it shall strike good blows for thee.'
His prayer in high Olympus heard,
Swift Mercury started at the word.

'Your axe must not be lost,' said he:
'Now, will you know it when you see?
An axe I found upon the road.'

With that an axe of gold he show'd.
'Is't this?' The woodman answer'd, 'Nay.'
An axe of silver, bright and gay,
Refused the honest woodman too.
At last the finder brought to view
An axe of iron, steel, and wood.

That's mine,' he said, in joyful mood;
'With that I'll quite contented be.'

The god replied, I give the three,
As due reward of honesty.'

This luck when neighbouring choppers knew,
They lost their axes, not a few,
And sent their prayers to Jupiter

So fast, he knew not which to hear.
His wingéd son, however, sent

With gold and silver axes, went.

Each would have thought himself a fool
Not to have own'd the richest tool.
But Mercury promptly gave, instead
Of it, a blow
upon the head.

With simple truth to be contented,
Is surest not to be repented;

But still there are who would
With evil trap the good,-
Whose cunning is but stupid,
For Jove is never dupéd.

II. THE EARTHEN POT AND THE IRON POT.1

An iron pot proposed

To an earthen pot a journey.

The latter was opposed,

Expressing the concern he

Had felt about the danger

Of going out a ranger.

1 Æsop.

He thought the kitchen hearth
The safest place on earth
For one so very brittle.
'For thee, who art a kettle,

And hast a tougher skin,

There's nought to keep thee in.'
'I'll be thy body-guard,'
Replied the iron pot;
'If anything that's hard
Should threaten thee a jot,
Between I will go,
you

And save thee from the blow.'
This offer him persuaded.
The iron pot paraded

Himself as guard and guide
Close at his cousin's side.

Now, in their tripod way,

They hobble as they may;
And eke together bolt
At every little jolt,-

Which gives the crockery pain;
But presently his comrade hits
So hard, he dashes him to bits,
Before he can complain.

Take care that you associate

With equals only, lest your fate

Between these pots should find its mate.

III. THE LITTLE FISH AND THE FISHER.'

A LITTLE fish will grow,
If life be spared, a great;
But yet to let him go,
And for his growing wait,
May not be very wise,

As 'tis not sure your bait
Will catch him when of size.

Upon a river bank, a fisher took
A tiny troutling from his hook.
Said he, ""Twill serve to count, at least,
As the beginning of my feast;
And so I'll put it with the rest.'
This little fish, thus caught,
His clemency besought.

'What will your honour do with me?
I'm not a mouthful, as you see.

Pray let me grow to be a trout,

And then come here and fish me out.
Some alderman, who likes things nice,
Will buy me then at any price.

But now, a hundred such you'll have to fish,
To make a single good-for-nothing dish.'
'Well, well, be it so,' replied the fisher,
'My little fish, who play the preacher,
The frying-pan must be your lot,
Although, no doubt, you like it not :
I fry the fry that can be got.'

In some things, men of sense
Prefer the present to the future tense.

IV. THE EARS OF THE HARE.'

SOME beast with horns did gore
The lion; and that sovereign dread,

Resolved to suffer so no more,

Straight banish'd from his realm, 'tis said,

All sorts of beasts with horns

Rams, bulls, goats, stags, and unicorns.
Such brutes all promptly fled.

A hare, the shadow of his ears perceiving,
Could hardly help believing

That some vile spy for horns would take them,
And food for accusation make them.

1 Faerno.