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

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 lest his life was sought;?The garlick chose, which presently was brought.
UPON a dish my lord the number told;?Clod no way liked the garlick to behold.?With piteous mien the garlick head he took,?Then on it num'rous ways was led to look,?And grumbling much, began to spit and eat,?just like a cat with mustard on her meat,?To touch it with his tongue he durst not do;?He knew not how to act or what pursue.?The peer, delighted at the man's distress,?The garlick made him bite, and chew, and press,?Then gulp it down as if delicious fare;?The first he passed; the second made him swear;?The third he found was every whit as sad,?He wished the devil had it, 'twas so bad.?In short, when at the twelfth our wight arrived,?He thought