The Complete Fables of Jean de La Fontaine

BOOK II

' ;HHDBB ' 29 Against Those with Too Difficult Tastes If I, at birth, had had bestowed on me The talents that the Muse Calliope1 Promised her lovers, still should I devote Them to the fictions that good Aesop wrote: Fiction and verse go ever hand in hand. But I am not one of Parnassus’2 band Beloved—alas!—able with grace to weave Those tales of his into resplendent fable. Some there are who can do it, I believe. But, though I try, not I. Let one more able Attempt as best he will. Still, heretofore Have I lent to the wolf a language new, And to the lamb, his interlocutor. In fact, even more have I dared to do, Endowing trees and plants with speech. Now, who Would not deem this an act of rhetoric’s Enchantment? “True,” critics will say. “But you speak splendidly of five or six Mere children’s tales!” “Children’s tales, eh?” O censors! Shall I, then, assume I should Write some in style more grave and pompous? Good! Here is one... Back in days of yore, The Trojans, after ten long years of war— Proud Troy beset—have yet withstood Each battle fierce the Greeks have waged on them, A thousandfold attacks without success, And who, war-worn and tiring, acquiesce To an inspiring stratagem, One by Minerva wrought: a wooden horse Of monstrous stature and form passing rare, Takes up within its flanks—perforce Most spacious!—wise Ulysses, hiding there With the bold Ajax, brave Diomedes, Whom the Colossus—thus concealing these And all their troops—would introduce . book ii 30 Into the city, there to loose their rage Upon her very gods, and, by this ruse, Thus confer honor on its sage, Industrious, and wily fabricators...3 “Enough!” will cry one of my castigators. “Your sentence is too long! Please, take A breath! Besides, for goodness’ sake, Your horse and its heroic phalanx are More unbelievable, by far, Than are a fox and crow,4 whose voice—the latter’s— The crafty former deftly flatters. For you the style is much too noble.” “Oh?” Then this, perhaps... A jealous shepherdess— Fair Amaryllis—yearning for her beau, Alcippe, thought that naught caught her distress But sheep and hound. Young Tircis, though, Slips ’twixt the willows and hears her address Fair Zephyr, praying her to whisper to Her love... “No, no! That line will never do! Ending with ‘to’? No! Not permitted! Clearly would it have benefited From more attentive care!” So growls my scold. Damnable critic! Will you hold Your tongue? Can I never complete My tale? How dangerous, how bold It is to seek a manner meet To please you and your ilk! Fie! I decry them! Nothing I do will ever satisfy them! II, 1 book ii . 31 The Rats in Council Assembled A cat—one Nibblelard1 by name—had spread Much misery and devastation Throughout the rodent population: Many a rat, alack, lay dead And buried; whereas those still left—the few— Daring not leave their hole in terror, grew Hungrier by the day. Sire Nibblelard— He whom the people Rat, ill-starred, Considered more a demon than a cat!— Went whoring off one night; and while he plied His mate with amorous tit for tat, The remnants of his raticide Met in a corner and discussed Their fate. “We have one hope! Just one!” So cried Their dean, indeed the most august, Most thoughtful of the lot. “We must Attach a bell, hang it about His neck, lest there be any doubt When he comes out for war. Then shall we be Able to flee!” They all agree: “Here, here! An excellent suggestion! For more we cannot do!” The only question: Who? Who will bell the cat?2 “Not me!” Cries one. “I’m not so stupid!” “Nor am I,” Assures another. Likewise all the rest. And so they bid their brilliant plan good-bye, As one by one they leave. Meeting recessed. (Like many a conclave I have seen expire For want of one brave canon, monk, or friar.) Advisers by the score abound At court to give advice. But set About to act, and you can bet There’s no one anywhere around.3 II, 2 . book ii 32 The Wolf Pleading against the Fox before the Ape A wolf charged that a certain reprobate— A fox: in point of fact, his neighbor— Had...