The Complete Fables of Jean de La Fontaine

BOOK I

' ;HHDB ' . book i  The Cricket and the Ant The cricket, having sung her song All summer long, Found—when the winter winds blew free— Her cupboard bare as bare could be; Nothing to greet her hungering eye: No merest crumb of worm or fly. She went next door to cry her plight To neighbor ant, hoping she might Take pity on her, and befriend her, Eke out a bit of grain to lend her, And see her through till spring: “What say you? On insect’s honor, I’ll repay you Well before fall. With interest, too!” Our ant—no willing lender she! Least of her faults!—replied: “I see! Tell me, my friend, what did you do While it was warm?” “Well... Night and day I sang my song for all to hear.” “You sang, you say? How nice, my dear! Now go and dance your life away!” I, 1 The Crow and the Fox Perched on a treetop, Master Crow Was clutching in his bill a cheese, When Master Fox, sniffing the fragrant breeze, Came by and, more or less, addressed him so: “Good day to you, Your Ravenhood! How beautiful you are! How fine! How fair! Ah! Truly, if your song could but compare To all the rest, I’m sure you should Be dubbed the rara avis of the wood!” The crow, beside himself with joy and pride, book i .  Begins to caw. He opens wide His gawking beak; lets go the cheese; it Falls to the ground. The fox is there to seize it, Saying: “You see? Be edified: Flatterers thrive on fools’ credulity. The lesson’s worth a cheese, don’t you agree?” The crow, shamefaced and flustered, swore— Too late, however: “Nevermore!” I, 2 The Frog Who Would Grow as Big as the Ox A frog espies an ox Of elegant dimension. Herself no bigger than an egg, she gapes and gawks In envy at his grandeur. Her intention? To grow as huge as he. And so, Huffing and puffing, all a-fuss, a-fret, She asks: “Look, sister, have I done it?” “No!” “And now?” “Nay, nay!” “There! Have I yet?” “Not even close!” The paltry mite—galled, goaded— Swelled up so well that she exploded. This world of ours is full of foolish creatures too: Commoners want to build chateaus; Each princeling wants his royal retinue; Each count, his squires. And so it goes.1 I, 3 The Two Mules Two mules there were, each with his heavy pack, Wending their way. One carried on his back A load of oats and nothing more. The other, belled and bridled, bore . book i  A sack of money for the tax-collector. Proud of his noble charge, he swore Ever to be its staunch protector. That is, until some miscreants happened on him, Robbed him, and rained blow after blow upon him. Then, all at once grown circumspecter: “Ah me,” he sighed, “nobody said That with my gold I well might end up dead! Somebody should have told me so! That mule behind lopes footloose, fancy-free, And leaves me to my torment and my woe.” The latter smiled: “My friend of high degree, Best not to work for men of wealth. Had you served but a miller, just like me, I daresay you would be in better health!” I, 4 The Wolf and the Hound A wolf there was, grown wan and thin; Little, indeed, but bone and skin, So staunchly did the watchdogs do their duty. At length a hound strays by his lair— Sleek, fat, and passing debonair, And no less well-endowed of strength than beauty. Happily would Sire Wolf attack him, Pummel him, thwack him, Hack him to bits. Ah, but to do so meant that he must fight; And clearly they would not be quits Before Sire Mastiff—able (quite!) To hold his own—might lay him low! And so our wolf draws near, in humblest wise, Flatters his plump and portly bearing. “Oh?” Replies the hound. “If you admire my size, The choice is yours, good sire. If you book i .  Would fatten up like me, do as I do: Come, leave this dire and deadly wood behind. What good does it do you and all your kind? Poor devils, starving wretches, who Ever must brave the blade for every crumb, Never to feast their fill! Come, come... A fairer fate awaits.” “But...