Chapter XI: Prologue (1)

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.