Part 5
Upon the Satyr asking him why he did so, he answered that he did it to warm his hands. The honest Sylvan having seen little of the world, admired a man who was master of so valuable a quality as that of blowing heat; and, therefore, was resolved to entertain him in the best manner he could. He spread the table before him with dried fruits of several sorts, and produced a remnant of cold cordial wine, which, as the rigour of the season made very proper, he mulled with some warm spices, over the fire, and presented to his shivering guest. But this the Traveller thought fit to blow likewise; and upon the Satyr's demanding the reason why he blowed again, he replied, to cool the dish.
This second answer provoked the Satyr's indignation, as much as the first had kindled his surprise; so, taking the man by the shoulder, he thrust him out, saying he would have nothing to do with a wretch who had so vile a quality as to blow hot and cold with the same mouth.
MORAL.
Double dealing is always detestable. The man that blows hot and cold at the same time is not worthy to be trusted; the sooner we part from him the better.
FABLE LXIV.
THE BARLEY-MOW AND THE DUNGHILL.
As 'CROSS his yard, at early day, A careful farmer took his way, He stopped, and leaning on his fork, Observed the flail's incessant work. In thought he measured all his store; His geese, his hogs, he numbered o'er; In fancy weighed the fleeces shorn, And multiplied the next year's corn.
A Barley-Mow, which stood beside, Thus to its musing master cried:
"Say, good sir, is it fit or right, To treat me with neglect and slight? Me, who contribute to your cheer, And raise your mirth with ale and beer! Why thus insulted, thus disgraced, And that vile Dunghill near me placed? Are those poor sweepings of a groom, That filthy sight, that nauseous fume, Meet objects here? Command it hence: A thing so mean must give offence."
The humble Dunghill thus replied: "Thy master hears, and mocks thy pride. Insult not thus the meek and low; In me thy benefactor know: My warm assistance gave thee birth, Or thou hadst perished low in earth: But upstarts, to support their station, Cancel at once all obligation."
FABLE LXV.
THE SHEEP-BITER AND SHEPHERD.
A CERTAIN Shepherd had a Dog, upon whose fidelity he relied very much; for whenever he had occasion to be absent himself, he committed the care and tuition of the flock to the charge of his Dog; and, to encourage him to do his duty cheerfully, he fed him constantly with sweet curds and whey, and sometimes threw him a crust or two. Yet, notwithstanding this, no sooner was his back turned, but the treacherous cur fell foul of the flock, and devoured the sheep, instead of guarding and defending them. The Shepherd being informed of this, was resolved to hang him; and the Dog, when the rope was about his neck, and he was just going to be hung, began to expostulate with his master, asking him, why he was so unmercifully bent against him, who was his own servant and creature, and had only committed two or three crimes, and why he did not rather execute vengeance upon the Wolf, who was a constant and declared enemy? "Nay," replies the Shepherd, "it is for that very reason that I think you ten times more deserving of death than he. From him I expected nothing but hostilities; and therefore could guard against him. You I depended upon as a just and faithful servant, and fed and encouraged you accordingly; and therefore your treachery is the more notorious, and your ingratitude the more unpardonable."
MORAL.
A known enemy is better than a treacherous friend.
FABLE LXVI.
THE STAG AT THE POOL.
A STAG that had been drinking at a clear spring, saw himself in the water; and, pleased with the sight, stood long contemplating and surveying his shape and features from head to foot. "Ah!" says he, "what a glorious pair of branching horns are there! How gracefully do those antlers hang over my forehead, and give an agreeable turn to my whole face! If some other parts of my body were but in proportion to them, I would turn my back to nobody; but I have a set of such legs as really make me ashamed to see them. People may talk what they please of their conveniences, and what great need we stand in of them, upon several occasions; but, for my part, I find them so very slender and unsightly that I had as lief have none at all."
While he was giving himself these airs, he was alarmed with the noise of some huntsmen and a pack of hounds that had been just laid on upon the scent, and were making towards him.
[Illustration: THE STAG AT THE POOL.]
Away he flees in some consternation, and, bounding nimbly over the plain, threw dogs and men at a vast distance behind him. After which, taking a very thick copse, he had the ill-fortune to be entangled by his horns in a thicket, where he was held fast, till the hounds came in and pulled him down. Finding now how it was likely to go with him, in the pangs of death, he is said to have uttered these words:--"Unhappy creature that I am! I am too late convinced that what I prided myself in has been the cause of my undoing, and what I so much disliked was the only thing that could have saved me."
MORAL.
Beauty often becomes a snare and ruin, while solid virtue, though unadorned, gains respect. The latter, too, will mature with age, while the former will surely fade.
FABLE LXVII.
THE OLD SWALLOWS AND THE YOUNG BIRDS.
A SWALLOW, observing a husbandman employed in sowing hemp, called the little Birds together, and informed them what the farmer was about. He told them that hemp was the material from which the nets, so fatal to the feathered race, were composed; and advised them unanimously to join in picking it up, in order to prevent the consequences.
The Birds, either disbelieving his information, or neglecting his advice, gave themselves no trouble about the matter. In a little time, the hemp appeared above the ground. The friendly Swallow again addressed himself to them--told them it was not yet too late, provided they would immediately set about the work, before the seeds had taken too deep root. But, they still rejecting his advice, he forsook their society; repaired, for safety, to towns and cities; there built his habitation, and kept his residence.
One day, as he was skimming along the streets, he happened to see a great number of these very Birds, imprisoned in a cage, on the shoulders of a bird-catcher. "Unhappy wretches!" said he, "you now feel the punishment of your former neglect. But those who, having no foresight of their own, despise the wholesome admonition of their friends, deserve the mischiefs which their own obstinacy or negligence bring upon their heads."
MORAL.
This Fable teaches thoughtless youth A most important moral truth:-- The seeds, which proved the young birds' ruin, Are emblems of their own undoing, Should they neglect, while yet 'tis time, To pluck the early shoots of crime; Or, in their own opinions wise, The counsel of their friends despise. For evil habits, left to grow, Are ever sure to lead to woe; But checked in time with vigorous hand, Will bend to virtue's firm command.
FABLE LXVIII.
THE WAGGONER AND THE BUTTERFLY.
The rain so soft had made the road, That, in a rut, a waggon-load, The poor man's harvest, (bitter luck!) Sank down a foot, and there it stuck. He whipped his horses, but in vain; They pulled and splashed, and pulled again, But vainly still; the slippery soil Defied their strength, and mocked their toil. Panting they stood, with legs outspread; The driver stood, and scratched his head: (A common custom, by-the-bye, When people know not what to try, Though not, it seems, a remedy).
A Butterfly, in flower concealed, Had travelled with them from the field; Who in the waggon was thrown up, While feasting on a buttercup. The panting of each labouring beast Disturbed her at her fragrant feast; The sudden stop, the driver's sigh, Awoke her generous sympathy. And, seeing the distressing case She cried, while springing from her place, (Imagining her tiny freight A vast addition to the weight,) "I must have pity--and be gone, Now, master Waggoner, drive on."
MORAL.
Do not admire this Butterfly, Young reader; I will tell you why. At first, goodnature seems a cause, Why she should merit your applause; But 'twas conceit that filled her breast: Her self-importance made a jest Of what might otherwise have claimed Your praise,--but now she must be blamed. Should any case occur, when you May have some friendly act to do; Give all _your feeble aid_--as such, But estimate it not too much.
FABLE LXIX.
THE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX.
A LION and a Bear quarrelling over the carcase of a Fawn, which they found in the forest, their title to him had to be decided by force of arms. The battle was severe and tough on both sides, and they fought it out, tearing and worrying one another so long, that, what with wounds and fatigue, they were so faint and weary, that they were not able to strike another stroke. Thus, while they lay upon the ground, panting and lolling out their tongues, a Fox chanced to pass by that way, who, perceiving how the case stood, very impudently stepped in between them, seized the booty which they had all this while been contending for, and carried it off. The two combatants, who lay and beheld all this, without having strength to stir and prevent it, were only wise enough to make this reflection:--"Behold the fruits of our strife and contention! That villain, the Fox, bears away the prize, and we ourselves have deprived each other of the power to recover it from him."
MORAL.
When fools quarrel, knaves get the prize of contention.
FABLE LXX.
THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.
In days of yore, when a young Fox would take more pains to get a bunch of grapes than a plump, fat goose, an arch young thief cast his eyes on a fine bunch which hung on the top of a poor man's vine, and made him lick his lips like a hound at the sight of a joint of meat. "Oh," said he, "how nice they look! I must have a taste of them, if I die for it;" and with that, up he jumped with all his might, but had the ill-luck not to reach the grapes; yet, as he could not find in his heart to leave them, he tried for them as long as he was able; so he leaped and jumped, and jumped and leaped, till at last he was glad to rest. But when he found all his pains were in vain, "Hang them!" said he, "I am sure they are not fit to eat, for they are as sour as crabs, and would set my teeth on edge for a whole week; and so I shall leave them for the next fool who may chance to come this way."
MORAL.
Some men make light of that which is out of their reach, though at the same time in their hearts they know not what to do for want of it.
[Illustration: THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.]
FABLE LXXI.
THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.
A HARE, who, in a civil way, Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the bestial train, Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain.
As forth she went, at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath; She hears the near approach of death; She doubles, to mislead the hound, And measures back her mazy round; Till, fainting in the public way, Half dead with fear, she gasping lay:-- What transport in her bosom grew, When first the Horse appeared in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend, And owe my safety to a friend; You know my feet betray my flight; To friendship, ev'ry burthen's light."
The Horse replied,--"Poor, honest Puss! It grieves my heart to see thee thus: Be comforted,--relief is near; For all our friends are in the rear."
She next the stately Bull implored, And thus replied the mighty lord:-- "Since every beast alive can tell, That I sincerely wish you well, I may, without offence, pretend To take the freedom of a friend. Love calls me hence; a favourite cow Expects me near yon barley-mow; And when a lady's in the case, You know, all other things give place. To leave you thus may seem unkind; But see,--the Goat is just behind."
The Goat remarked her pulse was high; Her languid head, her heavy eye; "My back," says she, "may do you harm; The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."
The Sheep was feeble, and complained, His sides a load of wool sustained; Said he was slow; confessed his fears; For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares.
She now the trotting Calf addressed, To save from death a friend distressed. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler pass you by; How strong are those! how weak am I! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offence. Excuse me, then,--you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament!--Adieu! For see, the Hounds are just in view."
MORAL.
Friendships are single: who depend On many rarely find a friend.
FABLE LXXII.
THE COCK AND THE FOX.
A COCK, being perched among the branches of a lofty tree, crowed aloud, so that the shrillness of his voice echoed through the wood and invited a Fox to the place, who was prowling in that neighbourhood in quest of his prey. But Reynard, finding the Cock was inaccessible by reason of the height of his situation, had recourse to stratagem in order to decoy him down. So, approaching the tree, "Cousin," says he, "I am heartily glad to see you; but at the same time I cannot forbear expressing my uneasiness at the inconvenience of the place, which will not let me pay my respects to you in a handsomer manner; though I suppose you will come down presently, and thus the difficulty will be easily removed."
"Indeed, cousin," says the Cock, "to tell you the truth, I do not think it safe to venture upon the ground; for though I am convinced how much you are my friend, yet I may have the misfortune to fall into the clutches of some other beasts, and what will become of me then?" "Oh, dear!" says Reynard, "is it possible that you can be so ignorant, as not to know of the peace which has been lately proclaimed between all kinds of birds and beasts; and that we are for the future to forbear hostilities on all sides, and to live in the utmost love and harmony, and this, under the penalty of suffering the severest punishment that can be inflicted?" All this while the Cock seemed to give little attention to what was said, but stretched out his neck, as if he saw something at a distance.
"Cousin," says the Fox, "what is it that you look at so earnestly?" "Why," says the Cock, "I think I see a pack of hounds yonder, a little way off." "Oh, then," says the Fox, "your humble servant, I must begone." "Nay, pray cousin, do not go," says the Cock, "I am just coming down; surely you are not afraid of Dogs in these peaceable times?" "No, no," says he, "but ten to one whether they have heard of the proclamation yet."
MORAL.
When rogues are met in their own strain, they are generally worsted. It is interesting to see the snares of the wicked defeated by the discreet management of the innocent. "Answer a fool according to his folly," is an old maxim.
FABLE LXXIII.
THE LION AND THE MOUSE.
A LION, faint with heat and weary with hunting, was lying down to take his repose under the spreading boughs of a thick shady oak. It happened that while he slept, a company of scrambling mice ran over his back, and waked him; upon which, starting up, he clapped his paw upon one of them, and was just going to put it to death, when the little supplicant implored his mercy in a very moving manner, begging him not to stain his noble character with the blood of so despicable and small a beast.
The Lion, considering the matter, thought proper to do as he was desired, and immediately released his little trembling prisoner.
Not long after, while traversing the forest in pursuit of his prey, he chanced to run into the toils of the hunters, from whence, not being able to disengage himself, he set up a most hideous and loud roar.
The Mouse, hearing a voice, and knowing it to be the Lion's, immediately repaired to the place, and bid him fear nothing, for that he was his friend. Then straight he fell to work, and with his sharp little teeth gnawing asunder the knots and fastenings of the toils, set the royal brute at liberty.
[Illustration: THE LION AND THE MOUSE.]
MORAL.
There is none so little, but that even the greatest may at some time or other stand in need of his assistance.
FABLE LXXIV.
THE TRUMPETER TAKEN PRISONER.
A TRUMPETER, being taken prisoner in a battle, begged hard for quarter, declaring his innocence, and protesting that he neither had nor could kill any man, bearing no arms but only a trumpet, which he was obliged to sound at the word of command. "For that reason," replied his enemies, "we are determined not to spare you; for though you yourself never fight, yet with that wicked instrument of yours, you blow up animosity between other people, and so become the occasion of much bloodshed."
MORAL.
The hand may rest quiet by the side, and yet the tongue be the means of doing more injury than a thousand hands.
FABLE LXXV.
THE MOUSE AND THE ELEPHANT.
A PERT young Mouse, but just arrived From Athens, where some time he'd lived; And daily to the portico, To pick up learning, used to go; Vain of the wisdom he had stored, And of the books he had devoured; Puffed up with pride and self-conceit, And proud to show his little wit, Thus to an Elephant, one day, He took it in his head to say:--
"Nay, not so pompous in your gait, Because Dame Nature made you great; I tell you, sir, your mighty size Is of no value in my eyes;-- Your magnitude, I have a notion, Is quite unfit for locomotion; When journeying far, you often prove How sluggishly your feet can move. Now, look at me: I'm made to fly; Behold, with what rapidity I skip about from place to place, And still unwearied with the race; But you--how lazily you creep, And stop to breathe at every step! Whenever I your bulk survey, I pity--" What he meant to say, Or with what kind of peroration He'd have concluded his oration, I cannot tell; for, all at once, There pounced upon the learned dunce An ambushed Cat; who, very soon, Experimentally made known, That between Mice and Elephants There is a mighty difference.
MORAL.
When fools pretend to wit and sense, And wish to shine at your expense, Defy them to the proof, and you Will make them their own folly show.
FABLE LXXVI.
THE HUSBANDMAN AND HIS SONS.
A CERTAIN Husbandman, lying at the point of death, and being desirous his sons should pursue that innocent, entertaining course of agriculture in which he himself had been engaged all his life, made use of this expedient to induce them to it. He called them to his bed-side and spoke to this effect: "All the patrimony I have to bequeath you, Sons, is my farm and my vineyard, of which I make you joint heirs. But I charge you not to let it go out of your own occupation; for if I have any treasure besides, it lies buried somewhere in the ground, within a foot of the surface."
This made the Sons conclude that he talked of money which he had hid there; so, after their father's death, with unwearied diligence and application, they carefully dug up every inch, both of the farm and vineyard; from which it came to pass that, though they missed the treasure which they expected, the ground, by being so well stirred and loosened, produced so plentiful a crop of all that was sowed in it as proved a real, and no inconsiderable treasure.
MORAL.
Labour and industry, well applied, seldom fail of finding a rich treasure. And if these do not give us exactly the wealth we are looking for, they will certainly give us health and cheerfulness, with a tranquil mind, and, without these, all the gold of Peru would lie in our coffers useless.
FABLE LXXVII.
THE BALD KNIGHT.
A CERTAIN Knight growing old, his hair fell off, and he became bald; to hide which imperfection he wore a periwig. But as he was riding out with some others a-hunting, a sudden gust of wind blew off the periwig, and exposed his bald pate.
The company could not forbear laughing at the accident; and he himself laughed as loud as anybody, saying, "How was it to be expected that I should keep strange hair on my head, when my own would not stay there."
MORAL.
If, by any word or action, we happen to raise the laughter of those about us, we cannot stifle it better than, by a brisk presence of mind, to join in the mirth of the company, and, if possible, anticipate the jests they are ready to make on us.
FABLE LXXVIII.
THE DOG IN THE MANGER.
A DOG was lying upon a manger full of hay. An Ox, being hungry, came near, and wanted to eat of the hay; but the envious, ill-natured cur, getting up and snarling at him, would not suffer him to touch it. Upon which the Ox, in the bitterness of his heart, said, "What a selfish wretch thou art, for thou canst neither eat hay thyself, nor suffer others to do so."
MORAL.
Selfishness is a most contemptible thing; but that degree of it which withholds from others what we can make no possible use of ourselves, is hateful in the extreme.
FABLE LXXIX.
THE OLD MAN AND DEATH.
[Illustration: THE DOG IN THE MANGER.]