Tales and Novels of J. de La Fontaine | Page 9

found.

GALLANTS in crowds Sir Arthur soon perceived;
At sight of these
the knight was sorely grieved;
And, turning in his mind how best to
act;
Cried he, Can this be truly held a fact,
That I've been worthy
while I'd fame in view,
Of cuckoldom at home, and knighthood too?

It ought to be but half:--the truth let's know;
From constancy the
purest blessings flow.
Then like a father-confessor he dressed,
And
took his seat where priests their flock confessed. His lady absolution
sought that day,
And on her knees before him 'gan to pray;
The
minor sins were told with downcast eyes,
And then for hearing those
of larger size,
The husband-confessor prepared his ears:--
Said she,
Good father, ('mid a flood of tears),
My bed receives, (the fault I
fear's not slight,) A gentleman, a parson, and a knight.
Still more had
followed, but, by rage o'ercome,
Sir Arthur cut the thread, and she
was mum;
Though, doubtless, had the fair been let proceed, Quite
long her Litany had been decreed.
THe husband, in a rage, exclaimed, thou jade,
A parson, say'st thou?
t'whom dost think thou'st made This curst confession?--To my spouse,
cried she,
I saw you enter here, and came with glee,
Supposing
you'd a trick to raise surprise;
Howe'er 'tis strange that one so very
wise,
The riddle should not fully comprehend:--
A KNIGHT, the
king created you, my friend;
A GENTLEMAN, your rank was long
ago;
A PARSON, you have made yourself you know.
Goon heav'ns!
exclaimed the knight, 'tis very clear, And I a blockhead surely must
appear.
THE COBBLER
WE'RE told, that once a cobbler, BLASE by name;
A wife had got,
whose charms so high in fame;
But as it happened, that their cash was
spent,
The honest couple to a neighbour went,
A corn-factor by
trade, not overwise
To whom they stated facts without disguise;

And begged, with falt'ring voice denoting care,
That he, of wheat,
would half a measure spare,
Upon their note, which readily he gave,


And all advantages desired to wave.
THE time for payment came; the money used;
The cash our factor
would not be refused;
Of writs he talked, attorneys, and distress;

The reason:--heav'n can tell, and you may guess;
In short, 'twas clear
our gay gallant desired,
To cheer the wife, whose beauty all admired.
SAID he, what anxiously I wish to get,
You've plenty stored, and
never wanted yet;
You surely know my meaning?--Yes, she cried;

I'll turn it in my mind, and we'll decide
How best to act. Away she
quickly flew,
And Blase informed, what Ninny had in view.
Zounds!
said the cobbler, we must see, my dear,
To hook this little sum:--the
way is clear;
No risk I'm confident; for prithee run
And tell him I've
a journey just begun;
That he may hither come and have his will;

But 'ere he touch thy lips, demand the bill;
He'll not refuse the boon
I'm very sure;
Meantime, myself I'll hide and all secure.
The note
obtained, cough loudly, strong, and clear; Twice let it be, that I may
plainly hear;
Then forth I'll sally from my lurking place,
And, spite
of folly's frowns, prevent disgrace.
THE plot succeeded as the pair desired;
The cobbler laughed, and
ALL his scheme admired:
A purse-proud cit thereon observed and swore;
'Twere better to have
coughed when all was o'er;
Then you, all three, would have enjoyed
your wish, And been in future all as mute as fish.
OH! sir, replied the cobbler's wife at ease,
Do you suppose that use
can hope to please,
And like your ladies full of sense appear?
(For
two were seated with his wedded dear;)
Perhaps my lady 'd act as you
describe,
But ev'ry one such prudence don't imbibe.
THE PEASANT AND HIS ANGRY LORD
ONCE on a time, as hist'ry's page relates,
A lord, possessed of many

large estates,
Was angry with a poor and humble clod,
Who tilled
his grounds and feared his very nod.
Th' offence (as often happens)
was but small,
But on him, vowed the peer, his rage should fall-- Said
he, a halter, rascal, you deserve;
You'll never from the
gallows-turnpike swerve:
Or, soon or late you swinging will be found

Who, born for hanging, ever yet was drowned?
Howe'er you'll
smile to hear my lenient voice;
Observe, three punishments await
your choice;
Take which you will.--The first is, you shall eat, Of
strongest garlick, thirty heads complete;
No drink you'll have
between, nor sleep, nor rest; You know a breach of promise I detest.

Or, on your shoulders further I propose,
To give you, with a cudgel,
thirty blows.
Or, if more pleasing, that you truly pay,
The sum of
thirty pounds without delay.
THE peasant 'gan to turn things in his mind:--
Said he, to take the
heads I'm not inclined;
No drink, you say, between; that makes it
worse;
To eat the garlick thus, would prove a curse.
Nor can I suffer
on my tender back,
That, with a cudgel, thirty blows you thwack.

Still harder thirty pounds to pay appeared;
Uncertain how to act, he
hanging feared.
The noble peer he begged, upon his knees,
His
penitence to hear, and sentence ease.
But mercy dwelled not with the
angry lord
Is this, cried he, the answer?--bring a cord.
The peasant,
trembling