BOOK V.

PROLOGUE.

If I shall anywhere insert the name of Æsop, to whom I have already

rendered every {honor} that was his due, know that it is for the sake of

{his} authority, just as some statuaries do in our day, who obtain a

much greater price for their productions, if they inscribe the name of

Praxiteles on their marbles, and Myron[1] on their polished silver.

{Therefore} let {these} Fables obtain a hearing. Carping envy more

readily favours the works of antiquity than those of the present day.

But now I turn to a Fable, with a moral to the purpose.

[Footnote V.1: _And Myron_)--Ver. 7. Myron was a famous

sculptor, statuary, and engraver, of Greece. He was a native of

Eleutheræ, in Boeotia, and according to Petronius Arbiter, died in

extreme poverty.]

FABLE I.

DEMETRIUS AND MENANDER.

Demetrius,[2] who was called Phalereus, unjustly took possession of the

sovereignty of Athens. The mob, according to their usual practice, rush

from all quarters vying with each other, and cheer him, and wish him

joy. Even the chief men kiss the hand by which they are oppressed, while

they silently lament the sad vicissitudes of fortune. Moreover, those

who live in retirement, and take their ease, come creeping in last of

all, that their absence may not injure them. Among these Menander,

famous[3] for his Comedies (which Demetrius, who did not know him, had

read, and had admired the genius of the man), perfumed with unguents,

and clad in a flowing robe, came with a mincing and languid step. As

soon as the Tyrant caught sight of him at the end of the train: "What

effeminate wretch," said he, "is this, who presumes to come into my

presence?" Those near him made answer: "This is Menander the Poet."

Changed in an instant, he exclaimed: "A more agreeable looking man could

not possibly exist."

[Footnote V.2: _Called Phalereus_)--Ver. 1. Demetrius

Phalereus, the statesman, philosopher, and ruler of Athens, was so

called from the Attic demus, or borough of Phalerus, where he was

born. He died in exile in Egypt, according to some accounts, of

the bite of a serpent. There seems no good reason for giving to

his rule over the Athenians the epithet of "improbum," found in

the next line, although in the latter years of his government he

gave himself up in a great measure to sensual pursuits.]

[Footnote V.3: _Menander, famous_)--Ver. 9. Menander, the

inventor of the New Comedy. Some of the Comedies of Terence are

Translations from his works.]

FABLE II.

THE TRAVELLERS AND THE ROBBER.

Two Soldiers having fallen in with a Robber, one fled, while the other

stood his ground, and defended himself with a stout right-hand. The

Robber slain, his cowardly companion comes running up, and draws his

sword; then throwing back his travelling cloak,[4] says: "Let's have

him;" "I'll take care he shall soon know whom he attacks." On this, he

who had vanquished {the robber made answer}: "I wish you had seconded me

just now at least with those words; I should have been still more

emboldened, believing them true; now keep your sword quiet, as well as

your silly tongue, that you may be able to deceive others who don't know

you. I, who have experienced with what speed you take to your heels,

know full well that no dependence is to be placed upon your valour."

This story may be applied to him who is courageous in prosperity, in

times of danger takes to flight.

[Footnote V.4: _His travelling cloak_)--Ver. 5. The "pænula"

was a travelling-cloak made of leather or wool, with a hood

attached to it, to cover the head.]

FABLE III.

THE BALD MAN AND THE FLY.

A Fly bit the bare pate of a Bald Man; who, endeavouring to crush it,

gave himself a heavy blow. Then said the Fly jeeringly: "You wanted to

revenge the sting of a tiny insect with death; what will you do to

yourself, who have added insult to injury?" {The Man} made answer: "I am

easily reconciled to myself, because I know that there was no intention

of doing harm. But you, worthless insect, and one of a contemptible

race, who take a delight in drinking human blood, I could wish to

destroy you, even at a heavier penalty."

This Fable teaches that pardon is to be granted to him who errs through

mistake. But him who is designedly mischievous, I deem to be deserving

of {any} punishment.

FABLE IV.

THE MAN AND THE ASS.

A Man having sacrificed a young boar to the god Hercules, to whom he

owed performance of a vow {made} for the preservation of his health,

ordered the remains of the barley to be set for the Ass. But he refused

{to touch it}, and said: "I would most willingly accept your food, if he

who had been fed upon it had not had his throat cut."

Warned by the significance of this Fable, I have always been careful to

avoid the gain that exposed to hazard. "But," say you, "those who have

got riches by rapine, are {still} in possession of them." Come, then,

let us enumerate those, who, being detected, have come to a bad end; you

will find that those {so} punished constitute a great majority.

Rashness brings luck to a few, misfortune to most.

FABLE V.

THE BUFFOON AND THE COUNTRYMAN.

Men are in the habit of erring through prejudice; and while they stand

up in defence of their erroneous notions, {are wont} to be driven by

plain facts to confession of their mistakes.

A rich Man, about to entertain the people with grand shows, invited all,

by the promise of a reward, to exhibit whatever new piece of ingenuity

any one could. The Performers came to the contest for fame, among whom a

Buffoon, well known for his drollery, said that he had a kind of

entertainment which had never yet been brought out at {any} theatre. The

rumour, spreading, brought together the {whole} city; and the places,

empty shortly before, sufficed not for the multitude. But as soon as he

appeared on the stage, alone, {and} without any apparatus, any

stage-assistants, the very intenseness of expectation produced silence.

Suddenly, he dropped down his head towards his bosom, and so well did he

imitate the voice of a pig with his own, that they concluded there was a

real one under his cloak, and ordered it to be shaken out. This being

done, as soon as they found that nothing was discovered, they loaded the

Man with many praises, and bestowed upon him the greatest applause.

A Countryman seeing this take place: "Egad," said he, "he shan't surpass

me;" and immediately gave out that he would do the same thing still

better on the following day. A still greater crowd assembled. Prejudice

had already taken possession of their minds, and they took their seats,

determined to deride, and not as {unbiassed} spectators. Both Performers

come forth. First, the Buffoon grunts away, and excites their applause,

and awakens their acclamations. Next, the Countryman, pretending that he

concealed a pig beneath his clothes (which, in fact, he did; but quite

unsuspected, because they had found none about the other), twitched the

ear of the real {pig}, which he was concealing, and with the pain forced

from it its natural cry. The people shouted with one voice that the

Buffoon had given a much more exact imitation, and ordered the

Countryman to be driven from the stage. On this, he produced the pig

itself from the folds of his cloak, and convicting them of their

disgraceful mistake by a manifest proof: "Look," said {he}, "this shows

what sort of judges you are."

FABLE VI.

THE TWO BALD MEN.

A Bald Man chanced to find a comb in the public road. Another, equally

destitute of hair, came up: "Come," said he, "shares, whatever it is you

have found." The other showed the booty, and added withal: "The will of

the Gods has favoured us, but through the malignity of fate, we have

found, as the saying is, a coal instead of a treasure."

This complaint befits him whom hope has disappointed.

FABLE VII.

PRINCEPS, THE FLUTE-PLAYER.

When a weak mind, beguiled by frivolous applause, has once given way to

insolent self-sufficiency, {such} foolish vanity is easily exposed to

ridicule.

Princeps, the Flute-player, was pretty well known, being accustomed to

accompany Bathyllus[5] with his music on the stage. It chanced that, at

a representation, I don't well remember what it was, while the

flying-machine[6] was being whirled along, he fell heavily, through

inadvertence, and broke his left leg, when he would much rather have

parted with two right ones.[7] He was picked up and carried to his house

groaning aloud. Some months pass by before his cure is completed. As is

the way with the spectators, for {they are} a merry race, the man began

to be missed, by whose blasts the vigour of the dancer was wont to be

kept at full stretch.

A certain Nobleman was about to exhibit a show, just when Princeps was

beginning to walk abroad. With a present {and} entreaties he prevailed

upon him merely to present himself on the day of the show. When the day

came a rumour about the Flute-player ran through the theatre. Some

affirmed that he was dead, some that he would appear before them without

delay. The curtain falling,[8] the thunders rolled,[9] and the Gods

conversed in the usual form. At this moment the Chorus struck up a song

unknown to him who had so recently returned; of which the burthen was

this: "Rejoice, Rome, in security, for your prince [{Princeps}] is

well." All rise with one consent and applaud. The Flute-player kisses

hands, {and} imagines that his friends are congratulating him. The

Equestrian order perceive the ridiculous mistake, and with loud laughter

encore the song. It is repeated. My man {now} throws himself {sprawling}

at full length upon the stage.[10] Ridiculing him, the Knights applaud;

while the people fancy he is {only} asking for a chaplet. When, however,

the reality came to be known throughout all the tiers, Princeps, his leg

bound up with a snow-white fillet, clad in snow-white tunic, {and}

snow-white shoes,[11] while pluming himself on the honors really paid to

the Deified House,[12] was thrust out headlong by common consent.

[Footnote V.5: _Accompany Bathyllus_)--Ver. 5. He alludes to

Bathyllus, the favourite and freedman of Mecænas, and who brought

to perfection pantomimic dancing at Rome.]

[Footnote V.6: _Flying-machine_)--Ver. 7. The "pegma" was a

piece of machinery used on the stage for the purpose of aiding the

ascents and descents of the Gods there represented.]

[Footnote V.7: _Losing two right ones_)--Ver. 9. The Poet puns

on the twofold meanings of the word "tibia," which signifies the

main bone of the leg, and a pipe or flute. These pipes were

right-handed or left-handed, probably varying in tone, two being

played at a time. Explained at length, the pun means, "Princeps

broke his left leg, when he could have better afforded to break

two right-handed pipes."]

[Footnote V.8: _The curtain falling_)--Ver. 23. The "aulæum,"

or stage-curtain, called also "siparium," was a piece of tapestry

stretched on a frame, which, rising before the stage, concealed it

till the actors appeared. Instead of drawing up this curtain to

discover the stage and actors, according to the present practice,

it was depressed when the play began, and fell beneath the level

of the stage: whence "aulæa premuntur" or "mittuntur," "the

curtain is dropped," meant that the play had began.]

[Footnote V.9: _The thunders rolled_)--Ver. 23. This thunder

was made by the noise of rolling stones in copper vessels.]

[Footnote V.10: _Upon the stage_)--Ver. 32. The "pulpitum" was

properly an elevated place on the proscenium, or space between the

scene and the orchestra.]

[Footnote V.11: _Snow-white shoes_)--Ver. 37. We learn from

Ovid and other authors that white shoes were solely worn by the

female sex.]

[Footnote V.12: _To the Deified house_)--Ver. 38. Taking to

himself the honor that belonged to the house of Augustus, which

was worshipped with Divine honors.]

FABLE VIII.

THE EMBLEM OF OPPORTUNITY.

A Bald Man, balancing on a razor's edge, fleet of foot, his forehead

covered with hair,[13] his body naked--if you have caught him, hold him

fast; when he has once escaped, not Jupiter himself can overtake him: he

is the emblem how shortlived is Opportunity.

The ancients devised such a portraiture of Time, {to signify} that

slothful delay should not hinder the execution of our purposes.

[Footnote V.13: _His forehead covered with hair_)--Ver. 2.

From this figure of Time or Opportunity, Time came to be

represented in the middle ages with a tuft of hair on his

forehead; whence our common expression "To take time by the

forelock," signifying to make the best of an opportunity.]

FABLE IX.

THE BULL AND THE CALF.

When a Bull was struggling with his horns in a narrow passage, and could

hardly effect an entrance to the manger, a Calf began to point out in

what way he might turn himself: "Hush," said {the Bull}, "I knew that

before you were born."

Let him who would instruct a wiser man, consider {this as} said to

himself.

FABLE X.

THE HUNTSMAN AND THE DOG.

A Dog, who had always given satisfaction to his master by his boldness

against swift and savage beasts, began to grow feeble under increasing

years. On one occasion, being urged to the combat with a bristling Boar,

he seized him by the ear; but, through the rottenness of his teeth, let

go his prey. Vexed at this, the Huntsman upbraided the Dog. Old

Barker[14] {replied}: "It is not my courage that disappoints you, but my

strength. You commend me for what I have been; and you blame me that I

am not {what I was}."

You, Philetus,[15] may easily perceive why I have written this.

[Footnote V.14: _Old Barker_)--Ver. 7. We may here enumerate

the names of this nature, which we find given by Phædrus to

various animals: "laniger," "wool-bearer," the sheep; "auritulus,"

"long-ears," the ass; "sonipes," "sounding-hoof," the horse;

"barbatus," "long-beard," the goat; "retorridus," "brindle," the

mouse; and "latrans," "barker," the dog.]

[Footnote V.15: _Philetus._)--Ver. 10. Of this Philetus

nothing certain is known, but he is supposed to have been a

freedman of the emperor Claudius.]

THE NEW FABLES,

BY SOME ATTRIBUTED TO PHÆDRUS.[1]

[Footnote NF.1: _Attributed to Phædrus_)--Cassito and

Jannelli, with several other critics, are strongly of opinion that

these Fables were written by Phædrus. On a critical examination,

however, they will be found to be so dissimilar in style and

language from those acknowledged to be by Phædrus, that it is very

difficult not to come to the conclusion that they are the work of

some more recent writer, of inferior genius, and less pure

latinity. They were first published in 1809, at Naples, by

Cassito, from a MS. which had belonged to Nicholas Perotti,

Archbishop of Sipontum or Manfredonia, at the end of the fifteenth

century, and who, notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary,

was perhaps either the author of them or altered them very

materially. They appear in the MSS. in a mutilated condition; and

the lacunæ have been filled up according to the fancy of the

successive Editors of the Fables. Those inserted in Gail's edition

have in general been here adopted.]

FABLE I.

THE APE AND THE FOX.

_The Greedy Man is not willing to give even from his superabundance._

An Ape asked a Fox for a part of her tail, that he might decently cover

his naked hinder parts therewith; but the ill-natured creature

{replied}: "Although it grow {even} longer {than it is}, still I will

sooner drag it through mud and brambles, than give you ever so small a

part {thereof}."

FABLE II.

THE AUTHOR.

_We must not require what is unreasonable._

If Nature had[2] formed the human race according to my notions, it would

have been far better endowed: for she would have given us every good

quality that indulgent Fortune has bestowed on {any} animal: the

strength of the Elephant, and the impetuous force of the Lion, the

age of the Crow, the majestic port of the fierce Bull, the gentle

tractableness of the fleet Horse; and Man should still have had the

ingenuity that is peculiarly his own. Jupiter in heaven laughs to

himself, no doubt, he who, in his mighty plan, denied these {qualities}

to men, lest our audacity should wrest {from him} the sceptre of the

world. Contented, therefore, with the gifts of unconquered Jove, let us

pass the years of our time allotted by fate, nor attempt more than

mortality permits.

[Footnote NF.2: _If nature had_)--Ver. 1. This can hardly be

styled a Fable; it is merely an Epilogue or moral lesson.]

FABLE III.

MERCURY AND THE TWO WOMEN.

_Another Fable on the same subject._

Once on a time, two Women had given their guest, Mercury, a mean and

sordid entertainment; one of the women had a little son in the cradle,

while the profession of a Courtesan had its charms for the other. In

order, therefore that he might give a suitable return for their

services, when about to depart, and just crossing the threshold, he

said: "In me you behold a God; I will give you at once whatever each may

wish." The Mother makes her request, and asks that she may immediately

see her Son graced with a beard; the Courtesan {requests} that whatever

she touches may follow her. Mercury flies away--the women return

in-doors: behold the infant, with a beard, is crying aloud. The

Courtesan happened to laugh heartily at this, on which the humours {of

the head} filled her nostrils, as is often the case. Intending therefore

to blow her nose, she seized it with her hand, and drew out its length

to the ground; and {thus}, while laughing at another, she became herself

a subject for laughter.[3]

[Footnote NF.3: _For laughter_)--Ver. 17. This story savours

more of the false wit of the middle ages than of the genius of

Phædrus.]

FABLE IV.

PROMETHEUS AND CUNNING.

_On Truth and Falsehood._

When once Prometheus, the framer of a new race, had formed Truth from

fine earth, that she might be able to dispense justice among mankind,

being suddenly summoned by the messenger of great Jove, he left {his}

workshop in charge of treacherous Cunning, whom he had lately received

in apprenticeship. The latter, inflamed by zeal, with clever hand formed

an image of similar appearance, corresponding stature, and like in every

limb, so far as the time permitted. When nearly the whole had now been

wondrously set up, he found he had no clay to make the feet. {His}

master came back, and Cunning, confused by fear at his quick return, sat

down in his own place. Prometheus, admiring so strong a resemblance,

wished the merit to appear to belong to his own skill, {and} therefore

placed the two images together in the furnace. When they were thoroughly

baked, and life had been breathed into them, hallowed Truth moved on

with modest gait; but her imperfect copy remained fixed on the spot.

Thence the spurious image, the result of the stealthy work, was called

Mendacity,[4] because they say, she has no feet,--an assertion with

which I readily agree.

[Footnote NF.4: _Was called Mendacity_)--Ver. 21. There is a

sort of pun intended upon the word "menda," a blemish. Because

Falsehood was blemished in having no feet, she was called

"mendacium" or "mendacity." Here the author's etymology is at

fault, as the word "mendacity" comes from "mentior," to lie; which

is not likely to have been derived from "menda." Besides,

Falsehood, whether she has feet or not, generally travels more

speedily than Truth.]

FABLE V.[5]

THE AUTHOR.

_Nothing is long concealed._

* * * Pretended vices are sometimes profitable to men, but still the

truth appears in time.

[Footnote NF.5: _Fable V._)--This seems to be only a fragment;

probably the moral of a Fable now lost.]

FABLE VI.

THE SIGNIFICATION OF THE PUNISHMENTS OF TARTARUS.

_The meaning is to be considered, not the mere words._

The story of Ixion, whirling round upon the wheel, teaches {us} what a

rolling thing is fortune. Sisyphus, with immense labour, pushing the

stone up the lofty hill, which ever, his labour lost, rolls back from

the top, shows that men's miseries are endless. When Tantalus is

athirst, standing in the midst of the river, the greedy are described,

whom a sufficiency of blessings surrounds, but none can they enjoy. The

wicked Danaïds carry water in urns, and cannot fill their pierced

vessels; just so, whatever you bestow on luxury, will flow out beneath.

Wretched Tityus is stretched over nine acres,[6] presenting for dire

punishment a liver that ever grows again: by this it is shown that the

greater the extent of land a man possesses, the heavier are his cares.

Antiquity purposely wrapped up the truth, in order that the wise might

understand--the ignorant remain in error.

[Footnote NF.6: _Nine acres_)--Ver. 13. "Jugera." The

"jugerum" was a piece of land 240 feet long by 120 wide.]

FABLE VII.

THE AUTHOR.

_On the Oracle of Apollo._

Phoebus! who dost inhabit Delphi and the beauteous Parnassus, say what is

most useful to us. Why do the locks of the holy prophetess stand erect;

the tripods shake; the holy shrines resound; the laurels, too,[7]

quiver, and the very day grow pale? Smitten by the Divinity, the Pythia

utters {these} words, and the warning of the Delian God instructs the

nations: "Practise virtue; pay your vows to the Gods above; defend your

country, your parents, your children, {and} your chaste wives with arms;

repel the foe with the sword; assist your friends; spare the wretched;

favour the good; meet the treacherous face to face; punish offences;

chastise the impious; inflict vengeance on those who, by base adultery,

defile the marriage couch; beware of the wicked; trust no man too far."

Thus having said, the Maiden falls frenzied to the ground: frenzied,

indeed, for what she said, she said in vain.

[Footnote NF.7: _The laurels, too_)--Ver. 5. The "cortina" or

oracular shrine was surrounded with laurels; which were said to

quiver while the oracles were being pronounced. This is probably

the most beautiful portion of these newly-discovered poems. Still,

it cannot with propriety be called a Fable.]

FABLE VIII.

ÆSOP AND THE AUTHOR.

_On a bad Author who praised himself._

A Person had recited[8] some worthless composition to Æsop, in which he

had inordinately bragged about himself. Desirous, therefore, to know

what the Sage thought {thereof}: "Does it appear to you," said he, "that

I have been too conceited? I have no empty confidence in my own

capacity." Worried to death with the execrable volume, Æsop replied:

"I greatly approve of your bestowing praise on yourself, for it will

never be your lot to receive it from another."

[Footnote NF.8: _A person had recited_)--Ver. 1. Adry remarks

that this is not a Fable, but only an Epigram.]

FABLE IX.

POMPEIUS MAGNUS AND HIS SOLDIER.

_How difficult it is to understand a man._

A Soldier of Pompeius Magnus, a man of huge bulk, by talking mincingly

and walking with an affected gait, had acquired the character of an

effeminate wretch, {and that} most fully established. Lying in wait by

night for the beasts of burden of his General, he drives away the mules

{laden} with garments and gold, and a vast weight of silver. A rumour of

what has been done gets abroad; the soldier is accused, {and} carried

off to the Prætorium. On this, Magnus {says to him}: "How say you? Have

you dared to rob me, comrade?" The soldier forthwith spits into his left

hand, and scatters about the spittle with his fingers. "Even thus,

General," says he, "may my eyes drip out, if I have seen or touched

{your property}." Then Magnus, a man of easy disposition, orders the

false accusers to be sent about their business,[9] and will not believe

the man guilty of so great audacity.

Not long afterwards a barbarian, confiding in his strength of hand,

challenges one of the Romans. Each man fears to accept the challenge,

and the leaders of highest rank mutter {among themselves}. At length,

this effeminate wretch in appearance, but Mars in prowess, approached

the General, who was seated on his tribunal, and, with a lisping voice,

said "May I?"[10] But Magnus, getting angry, as {well he might}, the

matter being so serious, ordered him to be turned out. Upon this, an

aged man among the Chieftain's friends, {remarked}: "I think it would be

better for this person to be exposed to the hazards of Fortune, since in

him our loss would be but small, than a valiant man, who, if conquered

through {some} mischance, might entail upon you a charge of rashness."

Magnus acquiesced, and gave the Soldier permission to go out to meet

{the champion}, whose head, to the surprise of the army, he whipped off

sooner than you could say it, and returned victorious. Thereupon said

Pompeius: "With great pleasure I present you with the soldier's crown,

because you have vindicated the honor of the Roman name; nevertheless,"

said he, "may my eyes drip out" (imitating the unseemly act with which

the Soldier had accompanied his oath), "if you did not carry off my

property from among the baggage."

[Footnote NF.9: _About their business_)--Ver. 13. The words

suggested in Orellius, "Indicii falsi auctores propelli jubet,"

are used here to fill up the lacuna.]

[Footnote NF.10: _May I?_)--Ver. 29. "Licet?" meaning: "Do you

give me permission to go against the enemy?" The story about the

spittle savours of the middle ages.]

FABLE X.

JUNO, VENUS, AND THE HEN.

_On the Lustfulness of Women._

When Juno[11] was praising her own chastity, Venus did not lose the

opportunity of a joke, and, to show that there was no female equal to

herself {in that virtue}, is said to have asked this question of the

Hen: "Tell me, will you, with how much food could you be satisfied?" The

hen replied: "Whatever you give me will be enough; but still you must

let me scratch a bit with my feet." "To keep you from scratching," said

{the Goddess}, "is a measure of wheat enough?" "Certainly; indeed it is

too much; but still do allow me to scratch." "In fine," {said Venus},

"what do you require, on condition of not scratching at all?" Then at

last the hen confessed the weak point in her nature: "Though a {whole}

barn were open for me, still scratch I must." Juno is said to have

laughed at the joke of Venus, for by the Hen she meant the Female Sex.

[Footnote NF.11: _When Juno_)--Ver. 1. This story is both

silly and in very bad taste.]

FABLE XI.

THE FATHER OF A FAMILY AND ÆSOP.

_How a bad-tempered Son may be tamed._

A Father of a family had a passionate Son, who, as soon as he had got

out of his fathers sight, inflicted many a blow upon the servants, and

gave loose to the impetuous temper of youth. Æsop consequently told this

short story to the old man.

A certain Man was yoking an old Ox along with a Calf; and when the Ox

shunning {to bear} the yoke with a neck so unfit for it, alleged the

failing strength of his years: "You have no reason to fear," said the

Countryman, "I don't do this that you may labour, but that you may tame

him, who with his heels and horns has made many lame." Just so, unless

you always keep your son by you, and by your management restrain his

temper, take care that the broils in your house don't increase to a

still greater degree. Gentleness is the remedy for a bad temper.[12]

[Footnote NF.12: _Remedy for a bad temper_)--Ver. 15. This

doctrine is stated in far too general terms.]

FABLE XII.

THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE VICTOR IN THE GYMNASTIC GAMES.

_How Boastfulness may sometimes be checked._

A Philosopher chancing to find the Victor in a gymnastic contest too

fond of boasting, asked him whether his adversary had been the stronger

man. {To this} the other {replied}: "Don't mention it; my strength was

far greater." "Then, you simpleton," retorted {the Philosopher}, "what

praise do you deserve, if you, being the stronger, have conquered one

who was not so powerful? You might perhaps have been tolerated if you

had told us that you had conquered one who was your superior in

strength."

FABLE XIII.

THE ASS AND THE LYRE.

_How Genius is often wasted through Misfortune._

An Ass espied a Lyre lying in a meadow: he approached and tried the

strings with his hoof; they sounded at his touch. "By my faith, a pretty

thing," said he; "it happens unfortunately that I am not skilled in the

art. If any person of greater skill had found it, he might have charmed

my ears with divine notes."

So Genius is often wasted through Misfortune.[13]

[Footnote NF.13: _Genius often wasted._)--Ver. 7. It seems to

border upon the absurd to speak of an ass losing the opportunity

of cultivating his "ingenium." He can hardly with propriety be

quoted under any circumstances as a specimen of a "mute inglorious

Milton."]

FABLE XIV.

THE WIDOW AND THE SOLDIER.

_The great Inconstancy and Lustfulness of Women._

A certain Woman[14] had for some years lost her beloved Husband, and had

placed his body in a tomb; and as she could by no means be forced from

it, and passed her life in mourning at the sepulchre, she obtained a

distinguished character for strict chastity. In the meantime, some

persons who had plundered the temple of Jupiter suffered the penalty of

crucifixion. In order that no one might remove their remains, soldiers

were appointed as guards of the dead bodies, close by the monument in

which the woman had shut herself up. Some time after, one of the Guards,

being thirsty, asked, in the middle of the night, for some water, of a

servant-maid, who chanced just then to be assisting her mistress, who

was going to rest; for she had been watching by a lamp, and had

prolonged her vigils to a late hour. The door being a little open, the

Soldier peeps in, and beholds a Woman, emaciated indeed, but of

beauteous features. His smitten heart is immediately inflamed, and he

gradually burns with unchaste desires. His crafty shrewdness invents a

thousand pretences for seeing her more frequently. Wrought upon by daily

intercourse, by degrees she became more complaisant to the stranger, and

soon enthralled his heart by a closer tie. While the careful Guard is

here passing his nights, a body is missed from one of the crosses. The

Soldier in his alarm relates to the Woman what has happened; but the

chaste Matron replies: "You have no grounds for fear;" and gives up the

body of her Husband to be fastened to the cross, that he may not undergo

punishment for his negligence.

Thus did profligacy usurp the place of honour.

[Footnote NF.14: _A certain Woman_)--Ver. 1. This is the story

of the Matron of Ephesus, told in a much more interesting manner

by Petronius Arbiter.]

FABLE XV.

THE RICH SUITOR AND THE POOR ONE.

_Fortune sometimes favours Men beyond their hopes and expectations._

Two Youths were courting a Maiden at the same time; the Rich man got the

better of the birth and good looks of the Poor one. When the appointed

day for the nuptials had arrived, the woe-begone Lover, because he could

not endure his grief, betook himself to some gardens near at hand;

a little beyond which, the splendid villa of the Rich man was about to

receive the Maiden from her mother's bosom, as his house in the city

seemed not to be roomy enough. The marriage procession is arranged,

a great crowd flocks to the scene, and Hymenæus gives the marriage

torch. Now an Ass, which used to gain a living for the Poor man, was

standing at the threshold of a gate; and it so happens the maidens lead

him along, that the fatigues of the way may not hurt the tender feet {of

the Bride}. On a sudden, by the pity of Venus, the heavens are swept by

winds, the crash of thunder resounds through the firmament, and brings

on a rough night with heavy rain; light is withdrawn from their eyes,

and at the same moment a storm of hail, spreading in all directions,

beats upon them, frightening and scattering them on all sides,

compelling each to seek safety for himself in flight. The Ass runs under

the well-known roof close at hand, and with a loud voice gives notice of

his presence. The servants run out of doors, behold with admiration the

beautiful Maiden, and then go and tell their master. He, seated at table

with a few companions, was consoling his passion with repeated draughts.

When the news was brought him, exulting with delight, {both} Bacchus and

Venus exhorting him, he celebrated his joyous nuptials amid the

applauses of his comrades. The bride's parents sought their daughter

through the crier, {while} the intended Husband grieved at the loss of

his Wife. After what had taken place became known to the public, all

agreed in approving of the favour shown by the Gods of heaven.

FABLE XVI.

ÆSOP AND HIS MISTRESS.

_How injurious it often is to tell the Truth._

Æsop being in the service of an Ugly Woman, who wasted the whole day in

painting herself up, and used fine clothes, pearls, gold, {and} silver,

yet found no one who would touch her with a finger: "May I {say} a few

words?" said he. "Say on," {she replied}. "{Then} I think," {said he},

"that you will effect anything you wish, if you lay aside your

ornaments." "Do I then seem to you so much preferable by myself?" {said

she}. "Why, no; if you don't make presents, your bed will enjoy its

repose." "But your sides," she replied, "shan't enjoy their repose;"[15]

and ordered the talkative Slave to be flogged. Shortly after a thief

took away a silver bracelet. When the Woman was told that it could not

be found, full of fury she summoned all {her slaves}, and threatened

them with a severe flogging if they did not tell the truth. "Threaten

others," said {Æsop}, "indeed you won't trick me, mistress; I was lately

beaten with the whip because I told the truth."

[Footnote NF.15: _Shan't enjoy their repose_)--Ver. 9. The

play upon the word "cessabo," seems redolent of the wit of the

middle ages, and not of the days of Phædrus.]

FABLE XVII.

A COCK CARRIED IN A LITTER BY CATS.

_An extreme feeling of Security often leads Men into Danger._

A Cock had some Cats to carry him in his litter: a Fox on seeing him

borne along in this pompous manner, said: "I advise you to be on your

guard against treachery, for if you were to examine the countenances of

those creatures, you would pronounce that they are carrying a booty, not

a burden." As soon as the savage brotherhood[16] began to be hungry,

they tore their Master to pieces, and went shares in the proceeds of

their guilt.

[Footnote NF.16: _Savage brotherhood_)--Ver. 6. "Societas."

The brotherhood of litter-carriers, perhaps four or six in

number.]

FABLE XVIII.

THE SOW BRINGING FORTH, AND THE WOLF

_We must first make trial of a Man before we entrust ourselves to him._

A Sow was lying and groaning, her travail coming on; a Wolf came running

to her aid, and, offering his assistance, said that he could perform the

duties of midwife. She, however, understanding the treachery of the

wicked animal, rejected the suspicious services of the evil-doer, and

said: "If you keep at a greater distance it is enough."

But had she entrusted herself to the perfidious Wolf, she would have had

just as much pain to cry for, and her death {into the bargain}.

FABLE XIX.

THE RUNAWAY SLAVE AND ÆSOP.

_There is no necessity to add evil to evil._

A Slave, when running away from a Master of severe disposition, met

Æsop, to whom he was known as a neighbour: "Why {are} you in such a

hurry?" {said Æsop}. "I'll tell you candidly, father," {said the other},

"for you are worthy to be called by that name, as our sorrows are safely

entrusted to you. Stripes are in superabundance; victuals fail: every

now and then I am sent to the farm as a slave to the rustics {there}: if

he dines at home I am kept standing by him all night, or if he is

invited out, I remain until daylight in the street. I have fairly earned

my liberty; but with grey hairs I am {still} a slave. If I were

conscious to myself of any fault, I should bear this patiently: I never

have had a bellyful, and, unhappy that I am, I have to put up with a

severe master besides. For these reasons, and {for others} which it

would take too long to recount, I have determined to go wherever my feet

may carry me." "Listen then," said Æsop; "When you have committed no

fault, you suffer these inconveniences as you say: what if you had

offended? What do you suppose you would {then} have had to suffer?"

By such advice he was prevented from running away.

FABLE XX.

THE CHARIOT-HORSE SOLD FOR THE MILL.

_Whatever happens, we must bear it with equanimity._

A certain Man withdrew from his chariot a Horse, ennobled by many

victories, and sold him for the mill. As he was being led out of doors

from the mill-stones to water, he saw his fellows going towards the

Circus, to celebrate the joyous contests at the games. With tears

starting forth, he said, "Go on and be happy; celebrate without me the

festive day in the race; at the place to which the accursed hand of the

thief has dragged me, will I lament my sad fate."

FABLE XXI.

THE HUNGRY BEAR.

_Hunger sharpens the wits._

If at any time[17] sustenance is wanting to the Bear in the woods, he

runs to the rocky shore, and, grasping a rock, gradually lets down his

shaggy thighs into the water; and as soon as the Crabs have stuck to the

long hair, betaking himself to shore, the crafty fellow shakes off his

sea-spoil, and enjoys the food that he has collected in every quarter.

Thus even in Fools does hunger sharpen the wits.

[Footnote NF.17: _If at any time_)--Ver. 1. This is not a

Fable; it is merely an anecdote in natural history, and one not

very unlikely to have been true.]

FABLE XXII.

THE TRAVELLER AND THE RAVEN.

_Men are very frequently imposed upon by words._

A Man while going through the fields along his solitary path, heard the

word "Hail!" whereat he stopped for a moment, but seeing no one, went on

his way. Again the same sound saluted him from a hidden spot; encouraged

by the hospitable voice, he stopped short, that whoever it was might

receive the like civility. When, looking all about, he had remained long

in perplexity, and had lost the time in which he might have walked some

miles, a Raven showed himself, and hovering above him, continually

repeated "Hail!" Then, perceiving that he had been deluded: "Perdition

seize you," said he, "most mischievous bird, to have thus delayed me

when I was in such a hurry."

FABLE XXIII.

THE SHEPHERD AND THE SHE-GOAT.

_Nothing is secret which shall not be made manifest._[18]

A Shepherd had broken[19] the horn of a She-Goat with his staff, {and}

began to entreat her not to betray him to his Master. "Although unjustly

injured," {said she}, "still, I shall be silent; but the thing itself

will proclaim your offence."

[Footnote NF.18: _Be made manifest_)--Ver. 1. This moral is

couched in the same words as St. Luke, viii. 17: "For nothing is

secret which shall not be made manifest."]

[Footnote NF.19: _A Shepherd had broken_)--Ver. 1. As Adry

remarks, this Fable more closely resembles the brevity and

elegance of Phædrus.]

FABLE XXIV.

THE SERPENT AND THE LIZARD.

_When the Lion's skin fails, the Fox's must be employed; that is to say,

when strength fails, we must employ craftiness._

A Serpent chanced to catch a Lizard by the tail; but when she tried to

devour it with open throat, it snatched up a little twig that lay close

at hand, and, holding it transversely with pertinacious bite, checked

the greedy jaws, agape to devour it, by this cleverly contrived

impediment. So the Serpent dropped the prey from her mouth unenjoyed.

FABLE XXV.

THE CROW AND THE SHEEP.

_Many are in the habit of injuring the weak and cringing to the

powerful._

An pestilent Crow had taken her seat upon a Sheep; which after carrying

her a long time on her back and much against her inclination, remarked:

"If you had done thus to a Dog with his sharp teeth, you would have

suffered for it." To this the rascally {Crow replied}: "I despise the

defenceless, and I yield to the powerful; I know whom to vex, and whom

to flatter craftily; by these means I put off my old age for years."

FABLE XXVI.

THE SERVANT AND THE MASTER.

_There is no curse more severe than a bad conscience._

A Servant having been guilty[20] of a secret offence in debauching the

wife of his master, on the latter coming to know of it, he said, in the

presence of those standing by: "Are you quite pleased with yourself?

For, when you ought not, you do please yourself; but not with impunity,

for when you ought to be pleased, you cannot be."

[Footnote NF.20: _Having been guilty_)--Ver. 5. Chambry, one

of the French Editors, omits this, as unworthy of Phædrus, and

Adry pronounces it unintelligible. The meaning of this, which is

Jannelli's version, seems to be: "When you ought not to please

yourself, you do please yourself, in committing the crime; but the

consequence is that, afterwards, when you ought to feel pleased,

in that you have gratified your desires, you cannot, in

consequence of your guilty conscience." It is so mutilated,

however, that Cassitti, Jannelli, and other Editors give entirely

different versions.]

FABLE XXVII.

THE HARE AND THE HERDSMAN.

_Many are kind in words, faithless at heart._

A Hare was flying from the Huntsman with speedy foot, and being seen by

a Herdsman, as she was creeping into a thicket: "By the Gods of heaven,

I beg of you," said she, "and by all your hopes, do not betray me,

Herdsman; I have never done any injury to this field."[21] "Don't be

afraid," the Countryman replied, "remain concealed without

apprehension." And now the Huntsman coming up, {enquired}: "Pray,

Herdsman, has a Hare come this way?" "She did come, but went off that

way to the left;" {he answered}, winking and nodding to the right. The

Huntsman in his haste did not understand him, and hurried out of sight.

Then {said} the Herdsman: "Are you not glad that I concealed you?"

"I don't deny," said she, "that to your tongue I owe most sincere

thanks, and I return them, but I wish you may be deprived of your

perfidious eyes."

[Footnote NF.21: _Injury to this field_)--Ver. 4. The Hare is

more an enemy to the flowers in gardens than to the fields. It was

probably for this reason that the Romans sacrificed this animal to

the Goddess Flora.]

FABLE XXVIII.

THE YOUNG MAN AND THE COURTESAN.

_Many things are pleasing which still are not to our advantage._

While a perfidious Courtesan was fawning upon a Youth, and he, though

wronged {by her} many a time and oft, still showed himself indulgent to

the Woman, the faithless {Creature thus addressed him}: "Though many

contend {for me} with {their} gifts, still do I esteem you the most."

The Youth, recollecting how many times he had been deceived, replied:

"Gladly, my love, do I hear these words; not because you are constant,

but because you administer to my pleasures."

FABLE XXIX.

THE BEAVER.

_Many would escape, if for the sake of safety they would disregard their

comforts._

The Beaver (to which the talkative Greeks have given the name of Castor,

thus bestowing upon an animal the name of a God[22]--they who boast of

the abundance of their epithets) when can no longer escape the dogs, is

said to bite off his testicles, because he is aware that it is for them

he is sought; a thing which I would not deny being done through an

instinct granted by the Gods; for as soon as the Huntsman has found the

drug, he ceases his pursuit, and calls off the dogs.

If men could manage, so as to be ready to part with what they own, in

order to live in safety for the future, there would be no one to devise

stratagems to the detriment of the naked body.

[Footnote NF.22: _Name of a God_)--Ver. 3. This pun upon the

resemblance of "Castor," the name of the demigod, to "Castor,"

"a beaver," seems to be a puerile pun; and the remark upon the

limited "copia verborum" of the Greeks, seems more likely to

proceed from the Archbishop of Sipontum than from Phædrus, who was

evidently proud of his Grecian origin.]

FABLE XXX.

THE BUTTERFLY AND THE WASP.

_Not past but present Fortune must be regarded._

A Butterfly[23] seeing a Wasp flying by: "Oh, sad is our lot," said she,

"derived from the depths of hell, from the recesses of which we have

received our existence. I, eloquent in peace, brave in battle, most

skilled in every art, whatever I once was, behold, light and rotten, and

mere ashes do I fly.[24] You, who were a Mule[25] with panniers, hurt

whomsoever you choose, by fixing your sting in him." The Wasp, too,

uttered these words, well suited to her disposition: "Consider not what

we were, but what we now are."

[Footnote NF.23: _A Butterfly_)--Ver. 1. This Fable is in a

sadly mutilated state, and critics are at a loss to say, with any

certainty, what is meant by it. Whether the supposed word in l. 2,

"barathris," (if really the correct reading), means the depths of

hell, or the inner folds of the leaves in which the Butterfly is

enveloped in the chrysalis state, or whether it means something

else, will probably always remain a matter of doubt. However, the

Fable seems to allude to the prevalent idea, that the soul, when

disengaged from the body, took the form of a butterfly. Indeed

the Greeks called both the soul and a butterfly by the name of

+psuchê+. There are six or seven different versions of the first

five lines.]

[Footnote NF.24: _Ashes do I fly_)--Ver. 6. It is just

possible that this may allude to the soul being disengaged from

the corruption of the body.]

[Footnote NF.25: _Who were a Mule_)--Ver. 7. She would seem

here to allude to the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. It

may possibly have been a notion, that as the human soul took the

form of a Butterfly, the souls of animals appeared in the shapes

of Wasps and Flies.]

FABLE XXXI.

THE GROUND-SWALLOW AND THE FOX.

_Confidence is not to be placed in the wicked._

A Bird which the Rustics call a Ground-Swallow ({terraneola}), because

it makes its nest in the ground, chanced to meet a wicked Fox, on seeing

whom she soared aloft on her wings. "Save you," said the other; "why,

pray, do you fly from me, as though I had not abundance of food in the

meadows,--crickets, beetles, {and} plenty of locusts. You have nothing

to fear, I beg {to assure you}; I love you dearly for your quiet ways,

and your harmless life." {The Bird} replied: "You speak very fairly,

indeed; however, I am not near you, but up in the air; I shall therefore

proceed, and that is the way in which I trust my life to you."

FABLE XXXII.

THE EPILOGUE.[26]

_Of those who read this book._

Whatever my Muse has here written in sportive mood, both malice and

worth equally join in praising; but the latter with candour, while the

other is secretly annoyed.

[Footnote NF.26: _The Epilogue_)--This appears in reality to

be only the Fragment of an Epilogue.]

ÆSOPIAN FABLES.[1]

THE AUTHORS OF WHICH ARE NOT KNOWN

[Footnote AF.1: _Æsopian Fables_)--These Æsopian Fables appear

much more worthy of the genius of Phædrus than the preceding ones,

which have been attributed to him by the Italian Editors. The name

of the author or authors of these is unknown; but from the

internal evidence, it is not improbable that some may have been

composed by Phædrus.]

FABLE I.

THE SICK KITE.

A Kite having been sick for many months, and seeing now there was no

longer any hope of his recovery, asked his Mother to go round the sacred

places, and make the most earnest vows for his recovery. "I will do so,

my Son," said she, "but I am greatly afraid I shall obtain no help; but

you, who have polluted every temple {and} every altar with your ravages,

sparing no sacrificial food, what is it you would now have me ask?"

FABLE II.

THE HARES TIRED OF LIFE.

He who cannot endure his own misfortune, let him look at others, and

learn patience.

On one occasion, the Hares being scared in the woods by a great noise,

cried out, that, on account of their continued alarms, they would end

their lives. So they repaired to a certain pond, into which, in their

despondency, they were going to throw themselves. Alarmed at their

approach, some Frogs fled distractedly into the green sedge. "Oh!" says

one {of the hares}, "there are others too whom fear of misfortune

torments. Endure existence as others do."

FABLE III.

JUPITER AND THE FOX.

No fortune conceals baseness of nature.

Jupiter having changed a Fox into a human shape, while she was sitting

as a Mistress on a royal throne, she saw a beetle creeping out of a

corner, and sprang nimbly towards the well-known prey. The Gods of

heaven smiled; the Great Father was ashamed, and expelled the Concubine,

repudiated and disgraced, addressing her in these words: "Live on in the

manner that you deserve, you, who cannot make a worthy use of my

kindness."

FABLE IV.

THE LION AND THE MOUSE.

This Fable teaches that no one should hurt those of more humble

condition.

While a Lion was asleep in a wood, where some Field-Mice were sporting

about, one of them by chance leaped upon the Lion as he lay. The Lion

awoke and seized the wretched {creature} with a sudden spring. The

captive implored pardon {and} suppliantly confessed his crime, a sin of

imprudence. The Monarch, not deeming it a glorious thing to exact

vengeance for this, pardoned him and let him go. A few days after, the

Lion, while roaming by night, fell into a trap. When he perceived that

he was caught in the snare, he began to roar with his loudest voice. At

this tremendous noise the Mouse instantly ran to his assistance, and

exclaimed: "You have no need to fear; I will make an adequate return for

your great kindness." Immediately he began to survey all the knots and

the fastenings of the knots; and gnawing the strings after he had

examined them, loosened the snare. Thus did the Mouse restore the

captured Lion to the woods.

FABLE V.

THE MAN AND THE TREES.

Those perish, who give assistance to their foes.

A certain Man, having made an axe, besought the Trees to afford him a

handle from their wood that would prove firm: they all desired that a

piece of Olive-tree should be given. He accepted the offer, and, fitting

on the handle, set to work with the axe to hew down the huge trunks.

While he was selecting such as he thought fit, the Oak is reported thus

to have said to the Ash: "We richly deserve to be cut down."

FABLE VI.

THE MOUSE AND THE FROG.

A Mouse, in order that he might pass over a river with greater ease,

sought the aid of a Frog. She tied the fore leg of the Mouse to her

hinder thigh. Hardly had they swum to the middle of the river, when the

Frog dived suddenly, trying to reach the bottom, that she might

perfidiously deprive the Mouse of life. While he struggled with all his

might not to sink, a Kite that was flying near at hand, beheld the prey,

and seizing the floundering Mouse in his talons, at the same time bore

off the Frog that was fastened to him.

Thus do men often perish while meditating the destruction others.

FABLE VII.

THE TWO COCKS AND THE HAWK.

A Cock who had often fought with {another} Cock, and been beaten,

requested a Hawk {to act as} umpire in the contest. The latter conceived

hopes, if both should come, of devouring him who should first present

himself. Shortly after, when he saw that they had come to plead their

cause, he seized the one who first brought his case into court. The

victim clamorously exclaimed: "'Tis not I that should be punished, but

the one who took to flight;" the Bird {replied}: "Do not suppose that

you can this day escape my talons; it is just that you should now

yourself endure the treacheries you were planning for another."[2]

He who often cogitates upon the death of others, little knows what sad

Fate he may be preparing for himself.

[Footnote AF.2: _Planning for another_)--Ver. 10. The nature

of the reason assigned by the Hawk is not very clear. Perhaps the

writer did not care that he should give even so much as a specious

reason.]

FABLE VIII.

THE SNAIL AND THE APE.

A Snail, smitten with admiration of a Mirror which she had found, began

to climb its shining face, and lick it, fancying she could confer no

greater favour upon it, than to stain its brightness with her slime. An

Ape, when he saw the Mirror {thus} defiled, remarked: "He who allows

himself to be trodden by such {beings}, deserves to suffer such a

disgrace."

This Fable is written for those Women who unite themselves to ignorant

and foolish Men.

FABLE IX.

THE CITY MOUSE AND COUNTRY MOUSE.

A City Mouse being once entertained at the table of a Country one, dined

on humble acorns in a hole. Afterwards he prevailed upon the Countryman

by his entreaties to enter the city and a cellar that abounded with the

choicest things. Here, while they were enjoying remnants of various

kinds, the door is thrown open, and in comes the Butler; the Mice,

terrified at the noise, fly in different directions, and the City one

easily hides himself in his well-known holes; while the unfortunate

Rustic, all trepidation in that strange house, and dreading death, runs

to-and-fro along the walls. When the Butler had taken what he wanted,

and had shut the door, the City Mouse bade the Country one again to

take courage. The latter, still in a state of perturbation, replied:

"I hardly can take any food for fear. Do you think he will come?"

--"Why are you in such a fright?" said the City one; "come, let us

enjoy dainties which you may seek in vain in the country." The

Countryman {replied}: "You, who don't know what it is to fear, will

enjoy all these things; but, free from care and at liberty, may acorns

be my food!"

'Tis better to live secure in poverty, than to be consumed by the cares

attendant upon riches.

FABLE X.

THE ASS FAWNING UPON HIS MASTER.

An Ass, seeing the Dog fawn upon his master, and how he was crammed at

his table each day, and had bits thrown to him in abundance by the

Servants, thus remarked: "If the Master and the Servants are so very

fond of a most filthy Dog, what must it be with me, if I should pay him

similar attentions, who am much better than this Dog, and useful and

praiseworthy in many respects; who am supported by the pure streams of

undefiled water, and never in the habit of feeding upon nasty food?

Surely I am more worthy than a whelp to enjoy a happy life, and to

obtain the highest honor." While the Ass is thus soliloquising, he sees

his Master enter the stable; so running up to him in haste and braying

aloud, he leaps upon him, claps both feet on his shoulders, begins to

lick his face; and tearing his clothes with his dirty hoofs, he fatigues

his Master with his heavy weight, as he stupidly fawns upon him. At

their Master's outcry the Servants run to the spot, and seizing

everywhere such sticks and stones as come in their way, they punish the

braying {beast}, and knocking him off his Master's body, soon send him

back, half-dead to the manger, with sore limbs and battered rump.

{This} Fable teaches that a fool is not to thrust himself upon those who

do not want him, or affect to perform the part of one superior {to him}.

FABLE XI.

THE CRANE, THE CROW, AND THE COUNTRYMAN.

A Crane and a Crow had made a league on oath, that the Crane should

protect the Crow against the Birds, {and} that the Crow should foretell

the future, so that the Crane might be on her guard. After this, on

their frequently flying into the fields of a certain Countryman, and

tearing up by the roots what had been sown, the owner of the field saw

it, and being vexed, cried out: "Give me a stone, Boy, that I may hit

the Crane." When the Crow heard this, at once she warned the Crane, who

took all due precaution. On another day, too, the Crow hearing him ask

for a stone, again warned the Crane carefully to avoid the danger. The

Countryman, suspecting that the divining Bird heard his commands, said

to the Boy: "If I say, give me a cake, do you secretly hand me a stone."

The Crane came {again}; he bade the Boy give him a cake, but the Boy

gave him a stone, with which he hit the Crane, and broke her legs. The

Crane, on being wounded, said: "Prophetic Crow, where now are your

auspices? Why did you not hasten to warn your companion, as you swore

you would, that no such evil might befall me?" The Crow made answer: "It

is not my art that deserves to be blamed; but the purposes of

double-tongued people are so deceiving, who say one thing and do

another."

Those who impose upon the inexperienced by deceitful promises, fail not

to cajole them by-and-bye with pretended reasons.

FABLE XII.

THE BIRDS AND THE SWALLOW.

The Birds having assembled in one spot, saw a Man sowing flax in a

field. When the Swallow found that they thought nothing at all of this,

she is reported to have called them together, and thus addressed them:

"Danger awaits us all from this, if the seed should come to maturity."

The Birds laughed {at her}. When the crop, however, sprang up, the

Swallow again remarked: "Our destruction is impending; come, let us root

up the noxious blades, lest, if they shortly grow up, nets may be made

thereof, and we may be taken by the contrivances of man." The Birds

persist in laughing at the words of the Swallow, and foolishly despise

{this} most prudent advice. But she, in her caution, at once betook

herself to Man, that she might suspend her nest in safety under his

rafters. The Birds, however, who had disregarded her wholesome advice,

being caught in nets made of the flax, came to an untimely end.

FABLE XIII.

THE PARTRIDGE AND THE FOX.

Once on a time a Partridge was sitting in a lofty tree. A Fox came up,

and began {thus} to speak: "O Partridge, how beautiful is your aspect!

Your beak transcends the coral; your thighs the brightness of purple.

And then, if you were to sleep, how much more beauteous you would be."

As soon as the silly Bird had closed her eyes, that instant the Fox

seized the credulous thing. Suppliantly she uttered these words, mingled

with loud cries: "O Fox, I beseech you, by the graceful dexterity of

your exquisite skill, utter my name as before, and then you shall devour

me." The Fox, willing to speak, opened his mouth, and so the Partridge

escaped destruction. Then said the deluded Fox: "What need was there for

me to speak?" The Partridge retorted: "And what necessity was there for

me to sleep, when my hour for sleep had not come?"

This is for those who speak when there is no occasion, and who sleep

when it is requisite to be on the watch.

FABLE XIV.

THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE BIRDS.

An Ass and an Ox, fastened to the same yoke, were drawing a waggon.

While the Ox was pulling with all his might he broke his horn. The Ass

swears that he experiences no help whatever from his weak companion.

Exerting himself in the labour, the Ox breaks his other horn, and at

length falls dead upon the ground. Presently, the Herdsman loads the Ass

with the flesh of the Ox, and he breaks down amid a thousand blows, and

stretched in the middle of the road, expires. The Birds flying to the

prey, exclaim: "If you had shown yourself compassionate to the Ox when

he entreated you, you would not have been food for us through your

untimely death."

FABLE XV.

THE LION AND THE SHEPHERD.

A Lion,[3] while wandering in a wood, trod on a thorn, and soon after

came up, wagging his tail, to a Shepherd: "Don't be alarmed," {said he},

"I suppliantly entreat your aid; I am not in search for prey." Lifting

up the {wounded} foot, the Man places it in his lap, and, taking out the

thorn, relieves {the patient's} severe pain: whereupon the Lion returns

to the woods. Some time after, the Shepherd (being accused on a false

charge) is condemned, and is ordered to be exposed to ravening Beasts at

the ensuing games. While the Beasts, on being let out,[4] are roaming

to-and-fro, the Lion recognizes the Man who effected the cure, and again

raising his foot, places it in the Shepherd's lap. The King, as soon as

he aware of this, immediately restored the Lion to the woods, and the

Shepherd to his friends.

[Footnote AF.3: _A Lion_)--Ver. 1. This story is also told by

Seneca--De Beneficiis, B. II. c. 19, and by Aulus Gellius, B. III.

c. 14.]

[Footnote AF.4: _The Beasts, on being let out_)--Ver. 10. The

beasts were sent forth from "caveæ," or "cages," into the area of

the Circus or Amphitheatre.]

FABLE XVI.

THE GNAT AND THE BULL.

A Gnat having challenged a Bull to a trial of strength, all the People

came to see the combat. Then {said} the Gnat: "'Tis enough that you have

come to meet me in combat; for {though} little in my own idea, I am

great in your judgment," {and so saying}, he took himself off on light

wing through the air, and duped the multitude, and eluded the threats of

the Bull. {Now} if the Bull had kept in mind his strength of neck, and

had contemned an ignoble foe, the vapouring of the trifler would have

been all in vain.

He loses character who puts himself on a level with the undeserving.

FABLE XVII.

THE HORSE AND THE ASS.

A Steed, swelling {with pride} beneath his trappings, met an Ass, and

because the latter, wearied with his load, made room very slowly:

"Hardly," said {the Horse}, "can I restrain myself from kicking you

severely." The Ass held his peace, only appealing with his groans to the

Gods. The Horse in a short space of time, broken-winded with running, is

sent to the farm. There the Ass espying him laden with dung, thus jeered

him: "Where are your former trappings, vain boaster, who have now fallen

into the misery which you treated with such contempt?"

Let not the fortunate man, unmindful of the uncertainty of fortune,

despise the lowly one, seeing that he knows not what he may come to

himself.

FABLE XVIII.

THE BIRDS, THE BEASTS, AND THE BAT.

The Birds were at war with the Beasts, and the conquerors were defeated

in their turn; but the Bat, fearing the doubtful issue of {the strife},

always betook himself to those whom he saw victorious. When they had

returned to their former state of peace, the fraud was apparent to both

sides; convicted therefore of a crime so disgraceful, {and} flying from

the light, he thenceforth hid himself in deep darkness, always flying

alone by night.

Whoever offers himself for sale to both sides, will live a life of

disgrace, hateful to them both.

FABLE XIX.

THE NIGHTINGALE, THE HAWK, AND THE FOWLER.

While a Hawk was sitting in a Nightingale's nest, on the watch for a

Hare, he found there some young ones. The Mother, alarmed at the danger

of her offspring, flew up, and suppliantly entreated him to spare her

young ones. "I will do what you wish," he replied, "if you will sing me

a tuneful song with a clear voice." On this, much as her heart failed

her, still, through fear, she obeyed, and being compelled, full of grief

she sang. The Hawk, who had seized the prey, {then} said: "You have not

sung your best;" and, seizing one of the young ones with his claws,

began to devour it. A Fowler approaches from another direction, and

stealthily extending his reed,[5] touches the perfidious {creature} with

bird-lime, and drags him to the ground.

Whoever lays crafty stratagems for others, ought to beware that he

himself be not entrapped by cunning.

[Footnote AF.5: _Extending his reed_)--Ver. 13. From this it

would appear, that fowlers stood behind trees, and used reeds

tipped with birdlime, for the purpose of taking birds.]

FABLE XX.

THE WOLF, THE FOX, AND THE SHEPHERD.

A Wolf, in the course of time, had collected a store in his den, that he

might have food, which he might enjoy at his ease for many months.

A Fox, on learning this, went to the Wolf's den, and {said} with

tremulous voice: "Is all right, brother? For not having seen you on the

look-out for prey in your woods, life has been saddened every day." The

Wolf, when he perceived the envy of his rival, {replied}: "You have not

come hither from any anxiety on my account, but that you may get a

share. I know what is your deceitful aim." The Fox enraged, comes to a

Shepherd, {and} says: "Shepherd, will you return me thanks, if to-day I

deliver up to you the enemy of your flock, so that you need have no more

anxiety?" The Shepherd {replied}: "I will serve you, and will with

pleasure give you anything you like." She points out the Wolf's den to

the Shepherd, who shuts him in, despatches him immediately with a spear,

and gladly gratifies his rival with the property of another. When,

however, the Fox had fallen into the Hunter's hands, being caught and

mangled by the Dogs, she said: "Hardly have I done an injury to another,

ere I am now punished {myself}."

Whoever ventures to injure another, ought to beware lest a greater evil

befall himself.

FABLE XXI.

THE SHEEP AND THE WOLVES.

When the Sheep and the Wolves[6] engaged in battle, the former, safe

under the protection of the dogs, were victorious. The Wolves sent

ambassadors, and demanded a peace, ratified on oath, on these terms;

that the Sheep should give up the Dogs, and receive as hostages the

whelps of the Wolves. The Sheep, hoping that lasting concord would be

thus secured, did as the Wolves demanded. Shortly after, when the whelps

began to howl, the Wolves, alleging as a pretext, that their young ones

were being murdered, and that the peace had been broken by the Sheep,

made a simultaneous rush on every side, and attacked the latter {thus}

deprived of protectors; {and} so a late repentance condemned their folly

in putting faith in their enemies.

If a person gives up to others the safeguard under which he has

previously lived in security, he will afterwards wish it back, but in

vain.

[Footnote AF.6: _The Sheep and the Wolves_)--Ver. 1.

Demosthenes is said to have related this Fable to the Athenians,

when dissuading them from surrendering the Orators to Alexander.]

FABLE XXII.

THE APE AND THE FOX.

An Ape asked a Fox to spare him some part of her exceeding length of

tail, with which he might be enabled to cover his most unseemly hinder

parts. "For of what use," said he, "is a tail of such extraordinary

length? For what purpose do you drag such a vast weight along the

ground?" The Fox {answered}: "Even if it were longer, and much bulkier,

I would rather drag it along the ground and through mud and thorns, than

give you a part; that you might not appear more comely through what

covers me."

Greedy and rich {man}, this Fable has a lesson for you, who, though you

have a superabundance, still give nothing to the poor.

FABLE XXIII.

THE WOLF, THE SHEPHERD, AND THE HUNTSMAN.

A Wolf, flying from the Huntsman's close pursuit, was seen by a

Shepherd, {who noticed} which way he fled, and in what spot he concealed

himself. "Herdsman," {said} the terrified fugitive, "by all your hopes,

do not, I do adjure you by the great Gods, betray an innocent being, who

has done you no injury."

"Don't fear," the Shepherd replied; "I'll point in another direction."

Soon after, the Huntsman comes up in haste: "Shepherd, have you not seen

a Wolf come this way? Which way did he run?" The Shepherd replied, in a

loud voice: "He certainly did come, but he fled to the left," but he

secretly motioned with his eyes towards the right. The other did not

understand him, and went on in haste. Then {said} the Shepherd to the

Wolf: "What thanks will you give me for having concealed you?" "To your

tongue, I give especial ones," said the Wolf, "but on your deceitful

eyes I pray that the darkness of eternal night may fall."

He who, courteous in his words, conceals deceit in his heart, may

understand that he is himself described in this Fable.

FABLE XXIV.

THE TRUTHFUL MAN, THE LIAR, AND THE APES.

A Liar and a Truthful Man, while travelling together, chanced to come

into the land of the Apes. One of the number, who had made himself King,

seeing them, ordered them to be detained, that he might learn what men

said of him, {and} at the same time he ordered all the Apes to stand in

lengthened array on the right and left; and that a throne should be

placed for himself, as he had formerly seen was the practice with the

Kings among men. After this he questions the men {so} ordered to be

brought before him: "What do you think of me, strangers?" "You seem to

be a most mighty King," the Liar replied. "What of these whom you see

now about me?" "These are ministers,[7] these are lieutenants, and

leaders of troops." The Ape thus lyingly praised, together with his

crew, orders a present to be given to the flatterer. On this the

Truth-teller {remarked} to himself: "If so great the reward for lying,

with what gifts shall I not be presented, if, according to my custom,

I tell the truth?" The Ape then {turns} to the Truthful Man: "And what

do you think of me and those whom you see standing before me?" He made

answer: "You are a genuine Ape, and all these {are} Apes, who are like

you." The King, enraged, ordered him to be torn with teeth and claws,

because he had told the truth.

A courtly lie is praised by the wicked; plain-spoken truth brings

destruction on the good.

[Footnote AF.7: _Your ministers_)--Ver. 13. "Comites" here

seems to mean "ministers," in the sense in which the word was used

in the times of the later Roman emperors.]

FABLE XXV.

THE MAN AND THE LION.

A Man was disputing with a Lion which was the stronger of the two, and

while they were seeking evidence on the matter in dispute, they came at

last to a sepulchre, on which {the human disputant} pointed out a Lion,

depicted with his jaws rent asunder by a Man--a striking proof of

superior strength. The Lion made answer: "This was painted by a human

hand; if Lions knew how to paint, you would see the man undermost. But I

will give a more convincing proof of our valour." He {accordingly} led

the Man to some games,[8] where, calling his attention to men slain in

reality by Lions, he said: "There is no need of the testimony of

pictures here; real valour is shown by deeds."

{This} Fable teaches that liars use colouring in vain, when a sure test

is produced.

[Footnote AF.8: _Some games_)--Ver. 9. "Spectaculum," or

"venatio." These were exhibited by the wealthy Romans in the

amphitheatre or circus, and on some occasions many hundred beasts

were slain in one day. Of course, as here mentioned, their

assailants would sometimes meet with an untimely end.]

FABLE XXVI.

THE STORK, THE GOOSE, AND THE HAWK.

A Stork, having come to a well-known pool, found a Goose diving

frequently beneath the water, {and} enquired why she did so. The other

replied: "This is our custom, and we find our food in the mud; and then,

besides, we thus find safety, and escape the attack of the Hawk when he

comes against us." "I am much stronger than the Hawk," said the Stork;

"if you choose to make an alliance with me, you will be able

victoriously to deride him." The Goose believing her, and immediately

accepting her aid, goes with her into the fields: forthwith comes the

Hawk, and seizes the Goose in his remorseless claws and devours her,

while the Stork flies off. The Goose {called out after her}: "He who

trusts himself to so weak a protector, deserves to come to a still worse

end."

FABLE XXVII.

THE SHEEP AND THE CROW.

A Crow, sitting at her ease upon a Sheep's back, pecked her with her

beak. After she had done this for a long time, the Sheep, so patient

under injury, remarked: "If you had offered this affront to the Dog, you

could not have endured his barking." But the Crow {thus answered} the

Sheep: "I never sit on the neck of one so strong, as I know whom I may

provoke; my years having taught me cunning, I am civil to the robust,

but insolent to the defenceless. Of such a nature have the Gods thought

fit to create me."

{This} Fable was written for those base persons who oppress the

innocent, {and} fear to annoy the bold.

FABLE XXVIII.

THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER.

In winter time, an Ant was dragging forth from her hole, and drying, the

grains which, in her foresight, she had collected during the summer.

A Grasshopper, being hungry, begged her to give him something: the Ant

{replied}: "What were you doing in summer?" The other {said}: "I had not

leisure to think of the future: I was wandering through hedges and

meadows, singing away." The Ant laughing, and carrying back the grains,

said: "Very well, you who were singing away in the summer, dance in the

winter."

Let the sluggard always labour at the proper time, lest when he has

nothing, he beg in vain.

FABLE XXIX.

THE HORSE AND THE ASS.

An Ass asked a Horse for a little barley. "With all my heart," said he,

"if I had more than I wanted, I would give you plenty, in accordance

with my dignified position; but bye-and-bye, as soon as I shall have

come to my manger in the evening, I will give you a sackful of wheat."

The Ass replied: "If you now deny me on a trifling occasion, what am I

to suppose you will do on one of greater importance?"

They who, while making great promises, refuse small favours, show that

they are very tenacious of giving.

FABLE XXX.

THE OLD LION AND THE FOX.

Worn with years, a Lion pretended illness. Many Beasts came for the

purpose of visiting the sick King, whom at once he devoured. But a wary

Fox stood at a distance before the den, saluting the King. On the Lion

asking her why she did not come in: "Because," {said she}, "I see many

foot-marks of those who have gone in, but none of those who came out."

The dangers of others are generally of advantage to the wary.

FABLE XXXI.

THE CAMEL AND THE FLEA.

A Flea, chancing to sit on the back of a Camel who was going along

weighed down with heavy burdens, was quite delighted with himself, as he

appeared to be so much higher. After they had made a long journey, they

came together in the evening to the stable. The Flea immediately

exclaimed, skipping lightly to the ground: "See, I have got down

directly, that I may not weary you any longer, {so} galled as you are."

The Camel {replied}: "I thank you; but neither when you were on me did I

find myself oppressed by your weight, nor do I feel myself at all

lightened now you have dismounted."

He who, while he is of no standing, boasts to be of a lofty one, falls

under contempt when he comes to be known.

FABLE XXXII.

THE KID AND THE WOLF.

A She-Goat, that she might keep her young one in safety, on going forth

to feed, warned {her} heedless Kid not to open the door, because she

knew that many wild beasts were prowling about the cattle stalls. When

she was gone, there came a Wolf, imitating the voice of the dam, and

ordered the door to be opened for him. When the Kid heard him, looking

through a chink, he said to the Wolf: "I hear a sound like my Mother's

{voice}, but you are a deceiver, and an enemy to me; under my Mother's

voice you are seeking to drink my blood, and stuff yourself with my

flesh. Farewell."

'Tis greatly to the credit of children to be obedient to their parents.

FABLE XXXIII.

THE POOR MAN AND THE SERPENT.

In the house of a certain Poor Man, a Serpent was always in the habit of

coming to his table, and being fed there plentifully upon the crumbs.

Shortly after, the Man becoming rich, he began to be angry with the

Serpent, and wounded him with an axe. After the lapse of some time he

returned to his former poverty. When he saw that like the varying lot of

the Serpent, his own fortunes also changed, he coaxingly begged him to

pardon the offence. Then said the Serpent to him: "You will repent of

your wickedness until my wound is healed; don't suppose, however, that I

take you henceforth with implicit confidence to be my friend. Still,

I could wish to be reconciled with you, if only I could never recall to

mind the perfidious axe."

He deserves to be suspected, who has once done an injury; and an

intimacy with him is always to be renewed with caution.

FABLE XXXIV.

THE EAGLE AND THE KITE.

An Eagle was sitting on a branch with a Kite, in sorrowful mood. "Why,"

{said} the Kite, "do I see you with such a melancholy air?" "I am

looking out," said she, "for a mate suited to myself, and cannot find

one." "Take me," {said the Kite}, "who am so much stronger than you."

"Well, are you able to get a living by what you can carry away?" "Many's

the time that I have seized and carried off an ostrich in my talons."

Induced by his words, the Eagle took him as her mate. A short time

having passed after the nuptials, the Eagle {said}: "Go and carry off

for me the booty you promised me." Soaring aloft, the Kite brings back a

field-mouse, most filthy, and stinking from long-contracted mouldiness.

"Is this," said the Eagle, "the performance of your promise?" The Kite

replied to her: "That I might contract a marriage with royalty, there is

nothing I would not have pledged myself to do, although I knew that I

was unable."

Those who seek anxiously for partners of higher rank, painfully lament a

deception that has united them to the worthless.

* * * * *

* * * *

THE FABLES OF PHÆDRUS,

Translated Into English Verse

By CHRISTOPHER SMART, A.M.,

Fellow Of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge.

BOOK I.

PROLOGUE.

What from the founder Esop fell,

In neat familiar verse I tell:

Twofold's the genius of the page,

To make you smile and make you sage.

But if the critics we displease,

By wrangling brutes and talking trees,

Let them remember, ere they blame,

We're working neither sin nor shame;

'Tis but a play to form the youth

By fiction, in the cause of truth.

FABLE I. THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.

By thirst incited; to the brook

The Wolf and Lamb themselves betook.

The Wolf high up the current drank,

The Lamb far lower down the bank.

Then, bent his rav'nous maw to cram,

The Wolf took umbrage at the Lamb.

"How dare you trouble all the flood,

And mingle my good drink with mud?"

"Sir," says the Lambkin, sore afraid,

"How should I act, as you upbraid?

The thing you mention cannot be,

The stream descends from you to me."

Abash'd by facts, says he, "I know

'Tis now exact six months ago

You strove my honest fame to blot"--

"Six months ago, sir, I was not."

"Then 'twas th' old ram thy sire," he cried,

And so he tore him, till he died.

To those this fable I address

Who are determined to oppress,

And trump up any false pretence,

But they will injure innocence.

II. THE FROGS DESIRING A KING.

With equal laws when Athens throve,

The petulance of freedom drove

Their state to license, which o'erthrew

Those just restraints of old they knew.

Hence, as a factious discontent

Through every rank and order went,

Pisistratus the tyrant form'd

A party, and the fort he storm'd:

Which yoke, while all bemoan'd in grief,

(Not that he was a cruel chief,

But they unused to be controll'd)

Then Esop thus his fable told:

The Frogs, a freeborn people made,

From out their marsh with clamor pray'd

That Jove a monarch would assign

With power their manners to refine.

The sovereign smiled, and on their bog

Sent his petitioners a log,

Which, as it dash'd upon the place,

At first alarm'd the tim'rous race.

But ere it long had lain to cool,

One slily peep'd out of the pool,

And finding it a king in jest,

He boldly summon'd all the rest.

Now, void of fear, the tribe advanced,

And on the timber leap'd and danced,

And having let their fury loose,

In gross affronts and rank abuse,

Of Jove they sought another king,

For useless was this wooden thing.

Then he a water-snake empower'd,

Who one by one their race devour'd.

They try to make escape in vain,

Nor, dumb through fear, can they complain.

By stealth they Mercury depute,

That Jove would once more hear their suit,

And send their sinking state to save;

But he in wrath this answer gave:

"You scorn'd the good king that you had,

And therefore you shall bear the bad."

Ye likewise, O Athenian friends,

Convinced to what impatience tends,

Though slavery be no common curse,

Be still, for fear of worse and worse.

III. THE VAIN JACKDAW.

Lest any one himself should plume,

And on his neighbour's worth presume;

But still let Nature's garb prevail--

Esop has left this little tale:

A Daw, ambitious and absurd,

Pick'd up the quills of Juno's bird;

And, with the gorgeous spoil adorn'd,

All his own sable brethren scorn'd,

And join'd the peacocks--who in scoff

Stripp'd the bold thief, and drove him off.

The Daw, thus roughly handled, went

To his own kind in discontent:

But they in turn contemn the spark,

And brand with many a shameful mark.

Then one he formerly disdain'd,

"Had you," said he, "at home remain'd--

Content with Nature's ways and will,

You had not felt the peacock's bill;

Nor 'mongst the birds of your own dress

Had been deserted in distress."

IV. THE DOG IN THE RIVER.

The churl that wants another's fare

Deserves at least to lose his share.

As through the stream a Dog convey'd

A piece of meat, he spied his shade

In the clear mirror of the flood,

And thinking it was flesh and blood,

Snapp'd to deprive him of the treat:--

But mark the glutton's self-defeat,

Miss'd both another's and his own,

Both shade and substance, beef and bone.

V. THE HEIFER, GOAT, SHEEP, AND LION.

A partnership with men in power

We cannot build upon an hour.

This Fable proves the fact too true:

An Heifer, Goat, and harmless Ewe,

Were with the Lion as allies,

To raise in desert woods supplies.

There, when they jointly had the luck

To take a most enormous buck,

The Lion first the parts disposed,

And then his royal will disclosed.

"The first, as Lion hight, I crave;

The next you yield to me, as brave;

The third is my peculiar due,

As being stronger far than you;

The fourth you likewise will renounce,

For him that touches, I shall trounce."

Thus rank unrighteousness and force

Seized all the prey without remorse.

VI. THE FROGS AND SUN.

When Esop saw, with inward grief,

The nuptials of a neighb'ring thief,

He thus his narrative begun:

Of old 'twas rumor'd that the Sun

Would take a wife: with hideous cries

The quer'lous Frogs alarm'd the skies.

Moved at their murmurs, Jove inquired

What was the thing that they desired?

When thus a tenant of the lake,

In terror, for his brethren spake:

"Ev'n now one Sun too much is found,

And dries up all the pools around,

Till we thy creatures perish here;

But oh, how dreadfully severe,

Should he at length be made a sire,

And propagate a race of fire!"

VII. THE FOX AND THE TRAGIC MASK.

A Fox beheld a Mask-- "O rare

The headpiece, if but brains were there!"

This holds--whene'er the Fates dispense

Pomp, pow'r, and everything but sense.

VIII. THE WOLF AND CRANE.

Who for his merit seeks a price

From men of violence and vice,

Is twice a fool--first so declared,

As for the worthless he has cared;

Then after all, his honest aim

Must end in punishment and shame.

A bone the Wolf devour'd in haste,

Stuck in his greedy throat so fast,

That, tortured with the pain, he roar'd,

And ev'ry beast around implored,

That who a remedy could find

Should have a premium to his mind.

A Crane was wrought upon to trust

His oath at length--and down she thrust

Her neck into his throat impure,

And so perform'd a desp'rate cure.

At which, when she desired her fee,

"You base, ungrateful minx," says he,

"Whom I so kind forbore to kill,

And now, forsooth, you'd bring your bill!"

IX. THE HARE AND THE SPARROW.

Still to give cautions, as a friend,

And not one's own affairs attend,

Is but impertinent and vain,

As these few verses will explain.

A Sparrow taunted at a Hare

Caught by an eagle high in air,

And screaming loud-- "Where now," says she,

"Is your renown'd velocity?

Why loiter'd your much boasted speed?"

Just as she spake, an hungry glede

Did on th' injurious railer fall,

Nor could her cries avail at all.

The Hare, with its expiring breath,

Thus said: "See comfort ev'n in death!

She that derided my distress

Must now deplore her own no less."

X. THE WOLF AND FOX, WITH THE APE FOR JUDGE.

Whoe'er by practice indiscreet

Has pass'd for a notorious cheat,

Will shortly find his credit fail,

Though he speak truth, says Esop's tale.

The Wolf the Fox for theft arraign'd;

The Fox her innocence maintain'd:

The Ape, as umpire, takes his seat;

Each pleads his cause with skill and heat.

Then thus the Ape, with aspect grave,

The sentence from the hustings gave:

"For you, Sir Wolf, I do descry

That all your losses are a lie--

And you, with negatives so stout,

O Fox! have stolen the goods no doubt."

XI. THE ASS AND THE LION HUNTING.

A coward, full of pompous speech,

The ignorant may overreach;

But is the laughing-stock of those

Who know how far his valor goes.

Once on a time it came to pass,

The Lion hunted with the Ass,

Whom hiding in the thickest shade

He there proposed should lend him aid,

By trumpeting so strange a bray,

That all the beasts he should dismay,

And drive them o'er the desert heath

Into the lurking Lion's teeth.

Proud of the task, the long-ear'd loon

Struck up such an outrageous tune,

That 'twas a miracle to hear--

The beasts forsake their haunts with fear,

And in the Lion's fangs expired:

Who, being now with slaughter tired,

Call'd out the Ass, whose noise he stops.

The Ass, parading from the copse,

Cried out with most conceited scoff,

"How did my music-piece go off?"

"So well--were not thy courage known,

Their terror had been all my own!"

XII. THE STAG AT THE FOUNTAIN.

Full often what you now despise

Proves better than the things you prize;

Let Esop's narrative decide:

A Stag beheld, with conscious pride,

(As at the fountain-head he stood)

His image in the silver flood,

And there extols his branching horns,

While his poor spindle-shanks he scorns--

But, lo! he hears the hunter's cries,

And, frighten'd, o'er the champaign flies--

His swiftness baffles the pursuit:

At length a wood receives the brute,

And by his horns entangled there,

The pack began his flesh to tear:

Then dying thus he wail'd his fate:

"Unhappy me! and wise too late!

How useful what I did disdain!

How grievous that which made me vain."

XIII. THE FOX AND THE CROW.

His folly in repentance ends,

Who, to a flatt'ring knave attends.

A Crow, her hunger to appease,

Had from a window stolen some cheese,

And sitting on a lofty pine

In state, was just about to dine.

This, when a Fox observed below,

He thus harangued the foolish Crow:

"Lady, how beauteous to the view

Those glossy plumes of sable hue!

Thy features how divinely fair!

With what a shape, and what an air!

Could you but frame your voice to sing,

You'd have no rival on the wing."

But she, now willing to display

Her talents in the vocal way,

Let go the cheese of luscious taste,

Which Renard seized with greedy haste.

The grudging dupe now sees at last

That for her folly she must fast.

XIV. THE COBBLER TURNED DOCTOR.

A bankrupt Cobbler, poor and lean,

(No bungler e'er was half so mean)

Went to a foreign place, and there

Began his med'cines to prepare:

But one of more especial note

He call'd his sovereign antidote;

And by his technical bombast

Contrived to raise a name at last.

It happen'd that the king was sick,

Who, willing to detect the trick,

Call'd for some water in an ewer,

Poison in which he feign'd to pour

The antidote was likewise mix'd;

He then upon th' empiric fix'd

To take the medicated cup,

And, for a premium, drink it up

The quack, through dread of death, confess'd

That he was of no skill possess'd;

But all this great and glorious job

Was made of nonsense and the mob.

Then did the king his peers convoke,

And thus unto th' assembly spoke:

"My lords and gentlemen, I rate

Your folly as inordinate,

Who trust your heads into his hand,

Where no one had his heels japann'd."--

This story their attention craves

Whose weakness is the prey of knaves.

XV. THE SAPIENT ASS.

In all the changes of a state,

The poor are the most fortunate,

Who, save the name of him they call

Their king, can find no odds at all.

The truth of this you now may read--

A fearful old man in a mead,

While leading of his Ass about,

Was startled at the sudden shout

Of enemies approaching nigh.

He then advised the Ass to fly,

"Lest we be taken in the place:"

But loth at all to mend his pace,

"Pray, will the conqueror," quoth Jack,

"With double panniers load my back?"

"No," says the man. "If that's the thing,"

Cries he, "I care not who is king."

XVI. THE SHEEP, THE STAG, AND THE WOLF.

When one rogue would another get

For surety in a case of debt,

'Tis not the thing t' accept the terms,

But dread th' event--the tale affirms.

A Stag approach'd the Sheep, to treat

For one good bushel of her wheat.

"The honest Wolf will give his bond."

At which, beginning to despond,

"The Wolf (cries she) 's a vagrant bite.

And you are quickly out of sight;

Where shall I find or him or you

Upon the day the debt is due?"

XVII. THE SHEEP, THE DOG, AND THE WOLF.

Liars are liable to rue

The mischief they're so prone to do.

The Sheep a Dog unjustly dunn'd

One loaf directly to refund,

Which he the Dog to the said Sheep

Had given in confidence to keep.

The Wolf was summoned, and he swore

It was not one, but ten or more.

The Sheep was therefore cast at law

To pay for things she never saw.

But, lo! ere many days ensued,

Dead in a ditch the Wolf she view'd:

"This, this," she cried, "is Heaven's decree

Of justice on a wretch like thee."

XIX. THE BITCH AND HER PUPPIES.

Bad men have speeches smooth and fair,

Of which, that we should be aware,

And such designing villains thwart,

The underwritten lines exhort.

A Bitch besought one of her kin

For room to put her Puppies in:

She, loth to say her neighbour nay,

Directly lent both hole and hay.

But asking to be repossess'd,

For longer time the former press'd,

Until her Puppies gather'd strength,

Which second lease expired at length;

And when, abused at such a rate,

The lender grew importunate,

"The place," quoth she, "I will resign

When you're a match for me and mine."

XX. THE HUNGRY DOGS.

A stupid plan that fools project,

Not only will not take effect,

But proves destructive in the end

To those that bungle and pretend.

Some hungry Dogs beheld an hide

Deep sunk beneath the crystal tide,

Which, that they might extract for food,

They strove to drink up all the flood;

But bursten in the desp'rate deed,

They perish'd, ere they could succeed.

XXI. THE OLD LION.

Whoever, to his honor's cost,

His pristine dignity has lost,

Is the fool's jest and coward's scorn,

When once deserted and forlorn.

With years enfeebled and decay'd,

A Lion gasping hard was laid:

Then came, with furious tusk, a boar,

To vindicate his wrongs of yore:

The bull was next in hostile spite,

With goring horn his foe to smite:

At length the ass himself, secure

That now impunity was sure,

His blow too insolently deals,

And kicks his forehead with his heels.

Then thus the Lion, as he died:

"'Twas hard to bear the brave," he cried;

"But to be trampled on by thee

Is Nature's last indignity;

And thou, O despicable thing,

Giv'st death at least a double sting."

XXII. THE MAN AND THE WEASEL.

A Weasel, by a person caught,

And willing to get off, besought

The man to spare. "Be not severe

On him that keeps your pantry clear

Of those intolerable mice."

"This were," says he, "a work of price,

If done entirely for my sake,

And good had been the plea you make:

But since, with all these pains and care,

You seize yourself the dainty fare

On which those vermin used to fall,

And then devour the mice and all,

Urge not a benefit in vain."

This said, the miscreant was slain.

The satire here those chaps will own,

Who, useful to themselves alone,

And bustling for a private end,

Would boast the merit of a friend.

XXIII. THE FAITHFUL HOUSE-DOG.

A Man that's gen'rous all at once

May dupe a novice or a dunce;

But to no purpose are the snares

He for the knowing ones prepares.

When late at night a felon tried

To bribe a Dog with food, he cried,

"What ho! do you attempt to stop

The mouth of him that guards the shop?

You 're mightily mistaken, sir,

For this strange kindness is a spur,

To make me double all my din,

Lest such a scoundrel should come in."

XXIV. THE PROUD FROG.

When poor men to expenses run,

And ape their betters, they're undone.

An Ox the Frog a-grazing view'd,

And envying his magnitude,

She puffs her wrinkled skin, and tries

To vie with his enormous size:

Then asks her young to own at least

That she was bigger than the beast.

They answer, No. With might and main

She swells and strains, and swells again.

"Now for it, who has got the day?"

The Ox is larger still, they say.

At length, with more and more ado,

She raged and puffed, and burst in two.

XXV. THE DOG AND THE CROCODILE.

Who give bad precepts to the wise,

And cautious men with guile advise,

Not only lose their toil and time,

But slip into sarcastic rhyme.

The dogs that are about the Nile,

Through terror of the Crocodile,

Are therefore said to drink and run.

It happen'd on a day, that one,

As scamp'ring by the river side,

Was by the Crocodile espied:

"Sir, at your leisure drink, nor fear

The least design or treach'ry here."

"That," says the Dog, "ma'm, would I do

With all my heart, and thank you too,

But as you can on dog's flesh dine,

You shall not taste a bit of mine."

XXVI. THE FOX AND THE STORK.