The Original Fables of La Fontaine | Page 5

no new thing, and as
there are so few lovely forms that enshrine lovely souls, thus uniting
both one and the other delight, do not take it amiss that I refrain from

seeking such a rare combination.
I have seen many marriages, but not one of them has held out
allurements for me. Nevertheless, nearly the whole four quarters of
mankind courageously expose themselves to this the greatest of all
hazards, and--the whole four quarters usually repent it.
I will tell you of one who, having repented, found that there was
nothing for it but to send home again his quarrelsome, avaricious, and
jealous spouse. She was one whom nothing pleased; for her, nothing
was right. For her, one rose too late; one retired too early. First it was
this, then it was that, and then again 'twas something else. The servants
raged. The husband was at his wit's end. "You think of nothing, sir."
"You spend too much." "You gad about, sir." "You are idle." Indeed
she had so much to say that, in the end, tired of hearing such a
termagant, he sent her to her parents in the country. There she mixed
with those who minded the turkeys and pigs until she was thought to be
somewhat tamed, when the husband sent for her again.
"Well, my dear, how have you been getting on? How did you spend
your time? Did you like the simple life of the country?"
"Oh, pretty well!" she said, "but what annoyed me was to see the
laziness of those people. They are worse there than here. They showed
no care whatever for the herds and flocks they were supposed to mind.
I didn't forget to let them know what I thought of them. Of course, they
didn't like it, and they all hated me in the end."
"Ah! my dear. If you fell foul of people whom you saw for but a
moment or so in the day and when they returned in the evening--if you
made them tired of you; what will the servants in this house become,
who must have you railing at them the whole day long? And what will
your poor husband do whom you expected to have near you all day and
night too? Return to the village, my dear. Adieu! and if during my life
the idea should possess me to have you back again, may I, for my sins,
have two such as you for ever at my elbows in the world to come."

[Illustration]
VII
THE RAT RETIRED FROM THE WORLD
(BOOK VII.--No. 3)
The ancients had a legend which told of a certain rat who, weary of the

anxieties of this world, retired to a cheese, therein to live in peace.
Profound solitude reigned around the hermit. He worked so hard with
his feet and his teeth that in a few days he had a spacious dwelling and
food in plenty. What more could he desire? He thrived well, growing
large and fat. Blessings are showered upon those who are vowed to
simplicity and renunciation!
One day a deputation from Rat-land waited upon him, begging that out
of his abundance he would grant a slight dole towards fitting out a
journey to a strange country where the rats hoped to get succour in their
great war against the cat-tribe. Ratopolis was besieged, and owing to
the poverty of the beleaguered republic they were forced to start with
empty wallets. They asked but little, believing that in a few days help
would arrive. "My friends," said the hermit, "earthly affairs no longer
concern me. In what way could a poor recluse assist you? What could
he do but pray for the help you need! My best hopes and wishes you
may be assured of." With these words this latest among the saints shut
his door.
Whom have I in mind, do you think, when I speak of this rat, so sparing
of his help? A monk?--Oh, no! A dervish rather, for a monk, I suppose,
is at all times charitable.

VIII
THE MAIDEN
(BOOK VII.--No. 5)
A certain damsel of considerable pride made up her mind to choose a
husband who should be young, well-built, and handsome; of agreeable
manners and--note these two points--neither cold nor jealous. Moreover,
she held it necessary that he should have means, high birth, intellect; in
fact, everything. But whoever was endowed with everything?
The fates were evidently anxious to do their best for her, for they sent
her some most noteworthy suitors. But these the proud beauty found
not half good enough. "What, men like those! You propose them for me!
Why they are pitiable! Look at them--fine types, indeed!" According to
her one was a dullard; another's nose was impossible. With this it was
one thing;