'I'll bet that you'll not reach so soon as I
The tree on yonder hill we spy.'

'So soon! Why, madam, are you frantic?'
Replied the creature, with an antic;
'Pray take, your senses to restore,
A grain or two of hellebore.'
'Say,' said the tortoise, 'what you will;
I dare you to the wager still.'
'Twas done; the stakes were paid,
And near the goal tree laid-

Of what, is not a question for this place,
Nor who it was that judged the race.
Our hare had scarce five jumps to make,
Of such as he is wont to take,

When, starting just before their beaks
He leaves the hounds at leisure,
Thence till the kalends of the Greeks,2
The sterile heath to measure.

Thus having time to browse and doze,
And list which way the zephyr blows,
He makes himself content to wait,
And let the tortoise go her gait
In solemn, senatorial state.

She starts; she moils on, modestly and lowly,
And with a prudent wisdom hastens slowly;
But he, meanwhile, the victory despises,
Thinks lightly of such prizes,

Believes it for his honour

To take late start and gain upon her.
So, feeding, sitting at his ease,
He meditates of what you please,
Till his antagonist he sees
Approach the goal; then starts,
Away like lightning darts:
But vainly does he run;
The race is by the tortoise won.

Cries she, My senses do I lack?

1 Hellebore. The ancient remedy for insanity.

2 Kalends of the Greeks.--The Greeks, unlike the Romans, had no kalends in their computation of time, hence the frequent use of this expression to convey the idea of an indefinite period of time.

What boots your boasted swiftness now?
You're beat! and yet, you must allow,
I bore my house upon my back.'

XI. THE ASS AND HIS MASTERS.1

A GARDENER'S ass complain'd to Destiny Of being made to rise before the dawn. 'The cocks their matins have not sung,' said he, 'Ere I am up and gone.

And all for what? To market herbs, it seems. Fine cause, indeed, to interrupt my dreams!' Fate, moved by such a prayer,

Sent him a currier's load to bear,
Whose hides so heavy and ill-scented were,
They almost choked the foolish beast.
'I wish me with my former lord,' he said;
'For then, whene'er he turn'd his head,
If on the watch, I caught

A cabbage-leaf, which cost me nought.
But, in this horrid place, I find
No chance or windfall of the kind;-
Or if, indeed, I do,

The cruel blows I rue.'
Anon it came to pass

He was a collier's ass.

Still more complaint. 'What now?' said Fate, Quite out of patience.

'If on this jackass I must wait,

What will become of kings and nations?
Has none but he aught here to tease him?
Have I no business but to please him ?'
And Fate had cause ;-for all are so.
Unsatisfied while here below

Our present lot is aye the worst.

Our foolish prayers the skies infest.
Were Jove to grant all we request,
The din renew'd, his head would burst.

1 Æsop.

XII. THE SUN AND THE FROGS.'

REJOICING on their tyrant's wedding-day,
The people drown'd their care in drink;
While from the general joy did Æsop shrink,
And show'd its folly in this way.

'The sun,' said he, 'once took it in his head
To have a partner for his bed.

From swamps, and ponds, and marshy bogs,
Up rose the wailings of the frogs.

"What shall we do, should he have progeny ?"
Said they to Destiny;

"One sun we scarcely can endure,
And half-a-dozen, we are sure,

Will dry the very sea.

Adieu to marsh and fen!

Our race will perish then,
Or be obliged to fix

Their dwelling in the Styx!'

For such an humble animal,

The frog, I take it, reason'd well.'

XIII. THE COUNTRYMAN AND THE SERPENT.2

A COUNTRYMAN, as Esop certifies,
A charitable man, but not so wise,
One day in winter found,
Stretch'd on the snowy ground,
A chill'd or frozen snake,
As torpid as a stake,

And, if alive, devoid of sense.

He took him up, and bore him home,

And, thinking not what recompense

For such a charity would come,

There is another fable with this title, viz., Fable XXIV., Book XII. This fable in its earlier form will be found in Phædrus, I. 6.

2 Æsop; also Phædrus, IV. 18.

Before the fire stretch'd him

And back to being fetch'd hin?.
The snake scarce felt the genial heat
Before his heart with native malice beat

He raised his head, thrust out his forkèd tongue,
Coil'd up, and at his benefactor sprung.
'Ungrateful wretch!' said he, 'is this the way
My care and kindness you repay ?

Now you shall die.' With that his axe he takes,
And with two blows three serpents makes.
Trunk, head, and tail were separate snakes;
And, leaping up with all their might,
They vainly sought to reunite.

'Tis good and lovely to be kind;
But charity should not be blind;

For as to wretchedness ingrate,

You cannot raise it from its wretched state.

XIV. THE SICK LION AND THE FOX.'

SICK in his den, we understand,

The king of beasts sent out command

That of his vassals every sort

Should send some deputies to court―

With promise well to treat

Each deputy and suite;

On faith of lion, duly written,

None should be scratch'd, much less be bitten.

The royal will was executed,

And some from every tribe deputed;

The foxes, only, would not come.

One thus explain'd their choice of home :

'Of those who seek the court, we learn,

The tracks upon the sand
Have one direction, and
Not one betokens a return.

This fact begetting some distrust,
His majesty at present must
Excuse us from his great levee.

His plighted word is good, no doubt;
But while how beasts get in we see,

We do not see how they get out.'

XV. THE FOWLER, THE HAWK, AND THE LARK.'

FROM wrongs of wicked men we draw

Excuses for our own :

Such is the universal law.

Would you have mercy shown,
Let yours be clearly known.

A fowler's mirror served to snare
The little tenants of the air.
A lark there saw her pretty face,
And was approaching to the place.
A hawk, that sailed on high
Like vapour in the sky,

Came down, as still as infant's breath,
On her who sang so near her death.
She thus escaped the fowler's steel,
The hawk's malignant claws to feel.
While in his cruel way,

The pirate pluck'd his prey,
Upon himself the net was sprung.
'O fowler,' pray'd he in the hawkish tongue,
'Release me in thy clemency!

I never did a wrong to thee.'
The man replied, "'Tis true;
And did the lark to you?'

Abstemius, 3.