NAYLOR.

"He ceased; and scarce a sand had run

When Chanticleer and all his clan

Appear'd in court: right in the van

A pullet's corse accompanied,

'Clept Dem'selle Scratchclaw ere she died;

By Reynard's bite decapitated--

This wise the tidings were related.

Close to the throne the Cock drew nigh:

Deep anguish dimm'd his upturn'd eye:

Two little Bantams, right and left,

Wept bitter tears, as birds bereft.

Sir Flapwing was of high degree,

As fine a bantling as you'd see

'Twixt Amsterdam and Paris, he.

Sir Strain-neck was the other 'clept,

And, like the first one, proudly stept.

Before them each a torch they bear,

Alike the same; for twins they were.

Young Cocks yet twain bare up the pall,

And help'd the wail with voices small.

Then Chanticleer, before the King

Commenced, in tones deep harrowing:

'Ah, gracious Lord and King! give ear

To my disastrous tale! The tear

Of pity shed on us who stand

For justice, suppliants at your hand.

Sire! thus it chanced;--The frosted beard

Of Winter scarce had disappear'd;

Scarce had the thorny brake put by

Its hosiery of fleece, and I

As happy felt as though a chicken;

About me, strutting, crowing, picking,

In comeliness my little ones:

I counted up ten stalwart sons;

Of daughters, too, a wondrous store,--

Plump Ortolans, and full a score.

My dame, the thoughtful prudent Hen,

Had train'd their youth beneath her ken

All virtues cardinal to practise,

Best learned from mothers, as the fact is.

Our house was in the convent yard,

High wall'd around: six dogs stood guard;--

All kept for our peculiar care,

By night and day to shield us there.

Now, gracious Liege! mark what I tell.

Reynard, (the knave!) with cockle-shell

And pilgrim's staff, wellworn, appears,

Bearing a packet: as he nears,

I note your royal seal, and read

Announcement of the truce decreed:

No more, he said, he played the royster,

But sought repentance in a cloister:

Observed the rule o' th' strictest sect,

His sins to purge with sure effect;

Whereby myself might to the end

My life secure and fearless spend.

Said he, 'flesh diet I have sworn

Never to touch from night to morn.'--

Unto my children all, I stated

The royal message, then related

How Reynard had assumed the cowl,

And left off hankering after fowl.

Myself I led them far and wide,

When lo! the Fox's guile defied

My anxious cares: in that same hour

He'd mark'd a victim for his power!

Perdu behind a bush he lay,

And took, before mine eyes, his prey!

The best of all my brood he seized,

And ate her up. The morsel pleased

His scoundrel maw--'twas dainty meat--

And soon he sought another treat.--

Full four-and twenty hopeful chicks

As e'er peck'd corn from out fresh ricks

Were mine,--and now, as I'm alive,

The villain's kill'd them all but five!

Pity, O King! my sorrowing tale:

Grant succour in this hour of wail!

But yesterday, the huntsman's cry

Surprised him in the act to fly

With Scratchclaw's body, which you see

Kill'd by his murd'rous tooth--ah me!

'Tis here as witness of my woe--

Oh that my hardhap to your heart may go!'

Enraged, the King: 'Sir Badger, ho!

The monk your uncle (troth!) doth know

To keep his fast,--the holy man!--

Match me the like of this who can?

What need of further question here?

Draw nigh and listen, Chanticleer!

Ourself your daughter dead will see

Entomb'd with all solemnity

Of dirge and mass, in her last slumber,

And vigils also without number.

This done, from these our lieges true

We'll crave their help and counsel too,

Touching the murder and the vengeance due.'

To Bruin then the King thus spake:

'Bruin! look well you undertake

This journey with dispatch--'Tis I,

Your Sov'reign, calls upon you--fly!

Be wise and wary: Reynard's guile

Is practised in each crafty wile.'"

Neither of the translators is here very good, and Naylor is perhaps as

near hitting the nail on the point (to use the phrase of a friend of

ours of the Fogie Club) as his competitor. He still gives us, however, a

great many silly superfluities, though some of them we have ventured to

cut out.

Finally, as our readers may begin to think they have enough of this, we

shall close our comparative view by some quotations from the Wager of

Battle, by which the Wolf and the Fox ultimately terminate their

disputes.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 368, June 1846 · 第 8 / 43 题