The Complete Fables of Jean de La Fontaine by Jean La Fontaine

Author:Jean La Fontaine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Illinois Press
Published: 2012-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

The heart will follow where the head

May lead, and does so willingly.

Whence stemmed the pagan error, spread

Over a vast humanity.

The ancients seized on folly, thus:

Mad fancies that the heart dictated.

Pygmalion waxed amorous

Of the fair Venus1 he created.

Each of us deals as deal he will

To realize his dream’s desire:

Man looks on truth with icy chill,

And looks on lies with passion’s fire.

IX, 6

THE MOUSE METAMORPHOSED INTO A MAIDEN

A mouse fell from a screech owl’s beak. I should,

Myself, have let her lie, nor picked

Her up. A Brahman did. I could predict

He would; for, it is understood,

Each race has its philosophy.

And, for such creatures, truly, we

Care little. But the Brahmans, they, perceive

Them as their brothers, and presume

That the soul which, in time, must leave

A king, enters a beast, there to assume—

Be it some nit or other!—any state

That might befit the will of Fate.

Such is, at least, one of the laws whereby

They live. (Pythagoras, in fact, it was

Who would extract the meaning of such laws.)

Now then, the Brahman thought he ought comply.

And so, finding a sorcerer, he prayed

That he might cause the mouse to turn once more

Into the form that had been hers before.

The wizard turned her to a maid,

A damsel fifteen years of age, so fair

That even Priam’s son would dare

Perform yet many a greater escapade

Than he essayed for Helen!1 Awed by this

Most untoward metamorphosis,

The Brahman thus addressed her loveliness:

“My child, yours but to acquiesce

And choose a spouse. For wedded bliss

Would such an honor be with you

That many a suitor is there who would woo

You gladly!” “Let the strongest doer

Of deeds,” says she, “be the successful wooer.”

Hearing which, then, the Brahman, on his knees,

Cries to the skies: “Sun, hear my earnest pleas!

You are the one, sire, of my daughter’s choosing!”

“Not so,” replies the Sun, refusing.

“The cloud that, dark and thick, one sees

Yonder, is stronger far than I. For he

Can hide my face. I would advise that she

Grace him therefore.” The Brahman thus addresses

The floating cloud: “Are you the mate for her?”

“Alas, not so! Would that I were!

But friend, I cannot,” he confesses,

“Resist the north wind or withstand

His will, pursuing me from land to land!”

Angry, the Brahman cries: “Then let

The wind come wed my fair coquette!”

Willing, the wind comes winging. But, brash boor,

Before the blowhard proffers his amour,

A mountain stops him in his track. The ball—

Or shuttlecock, if you prefer—will fall

To him, but he will send it back. “For sure,”

Says he, “I prize the honor you would do me.

But you, I fear, must hear my caveat:

Should I do battle with the merest rat,

Folly it were, for he could gnaw right through me!”

At the word “rat” the damsel pricked

Her ears. Rat was the one she picked.

A rat!… For such is woman’s love.

(But best not say too much thereof!)

She prefers lovers from whence she has sprung.

This fable proves the point. And yet, among

Its elements, a deal of sophistry

Can be perceived if rather closely one

Studies the text. Could one prefer the Sun

To any human spouse? And fleas, though small,

Can bite a giant! And the rat, withal,

Ought to have sent the belle to choose the cat.

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