[Footnote III.42: This and the following Prologue seem better suited to their present places than to the close of the Fourth Book, where in most of the editions they appear.]

[Footnote III.43: Of a wearied life)—Ver. 15. It is impossible to say with any certainty to what he refers; but the most probable conjecture is that he has again got into trouble through his compositions, and is begging Eutychus, in some public capacity, immediately to give a favourable decision in his behalf. That "Languens aevum" means a life worn out with misfortune, and does not refer to himself as sinking, in want, under old age, is evident from the next line. It has been conjectured by some that Phaedrus wrote these lines in prison, where he had been thrown through the malice of his enemies.]

[Footnote III.44: It is your province)—Ver. 24. He is supposed to allude to some judicial position held by Eutychus, which he would have to vacate at the end of a year, and be succeeded by others, probably not so favourably disposed to himself.]

[Footnote III.45: To murmur in public)—Ver. 33. "Palam mutire plebeio piaculum est." These words are quoted from the Telephus of Ennius.]



BOOK IV.

PROLOGUE.

TO PARTICULO.

When I had determined to put an end to my labours, with the view that there might be material enough {left} for others, in my mind I silently condemned {my} resolve. For even if there is any one desirous of the like fame, how will he guess what it is I have omitted,[1] so as to wish to hand down that same to posterity; since each man has a turn of thinking of his own, and a tone peculiar to himself. It was not, therefore, {any} fickleness, but assured grounds, that set me upon writing {again}. Wherefore, Particulo,[2] as you are amused by Fables (which I will style "Aesopian," not "those of Aesop;" for whereas he published but few, I have brought out a great many, employing the old style, but with modern subjects), now at your leisure you shall peruse a Fourth Book. If envy shall choose to carp at it, so long as it cannot imitate,[3] why let it carp. I have gained glory {enough}, in that you, and {others} like to you, have quoted my words in your writings, and have thought me worthy of being long remembered. Why should I stand in need of the applause of the illiterate?

[Footnote IV.1: I have omitted)—Ver. 5. "Divinabit" seems preferable here to "damnabit," or "demonstrabit," the other readings; and Burmann is probably right in supposing that he means to say that many of the Aesopian fables had not yet been used by him, and though others may make use of them as bearing a general moral, they will not be able so well as himself to point their moral in reference to individuals or classes, in consequence of his advantage in having already adapted many of them to the censure of particular vices.]

[Footnote IV.2: Particulo)—Ver. 10. Of Particulo nothing whatever is known, except that he was a freedman.]

[Footnote IV.3: Cannot imitate)—Ver. 16. Gronovius thinks that he alludes to the Greek proverb "Mo:meisthai rhadion e: mimeisthai." "'Tis easier to blame than to imitate."]

FABLE I.

THE ASS AND THE PRIESTS OF CYBELE.

He who has been born to ill luck, not only passes an unhappy life, but even after death the cruel rigour of destiny pursues him.

The Galli, {priests} of Cybele,[4] were in the habit, on their begging excursions, of leading about an Ass, to carry their burdens. When he was dead with fatigue and blows, his hide being stripped off, they made themselves tambourines[5] therewith. Afterwards, on being asked by some one what they had done with their favourite, they answered in these words: "He fancied that after death he would rest in quiet; but see, dead as he is, fresh blows are heaped upon him."

[Footnote IV.4: Priests of Cybele)—Ver. 4. During the Festival of Cybele, the Galli or eunuch-priests of the Goddess went about with an image of her seated on an ass, and beating a tambourine, for the purpose of making a collection to defray the expenses of the worship. They were called by the Greeks me:tragurtai, "Collectors for the Mother." See the Fasti of Ovid, B. iv., l. 350, vol. i., p. 149, of Bohn's Translation.]

[Footnote IV.5: Tambourines)—Ver. 7. "The tympana," which were almost exactly similar to our tambourines, were covered with the skin of asses or of oxen, and were beaten with the hand or a small stick.]

FABLE II.

THE WEASEL AND THE MICE.

This way of writing seems to you facetious; and no doubt, while we have nothing of more importance, we do sport with the pen. But examine these Fables with attention, {and} what useful lessons will you find {concealed} under them! Things are not always what they seem; first appearances deceive many: few minds understand what skill has hidden in an inmost corner. That I may not appear to have said this without reason, I will add a Fable about the Weasel and the Mice.

A Weasel, worn out with years and old age, being unable to overtake the active Mice, rolled herself in flour, and threw herself carelessly along in a dark spot. A Mouse, thinking her food, jumped upon her, and, being caught, was put to death: another in like manner perished, and then a third. Some others having followed, an {old} brindled fellow came, who had escaped snares and mouse-traps full oft; and viewing from afar the stratagem of the crafty foe: "So fare you well,[6]" said he, "you that are lying there, as you are flour."

[Footnote IV.6: So fare you well)—Ver. 21. "Sic valeas." —"Fare you well, if you are flour, which you are not. I wish you luck as much as I believe you are what you pretend to be, i.e., not at all."]

FABLE III.

THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.

Urged by hunger, a Fox, leaping with all her might, tried to reach a cluster of Grapes upon a lofty vine. When {she found} she could not reach them, she left them, saying: "They are not ripe yet; I don't like to eat them while sour."

Those who disparage what they cannot perform, ought to apply this lesson to themselves.

FABLE IV.

THE HORSE AND THE WILD BOAR.

While a Wild Boar was wallowing, he muddied the shallow water, at which a Horse had been in the habit of quenching his thirst. Upon this, a disagreement arose. The Horse,[7] enraged with the beast, sought the aid of man, and, raising him on his back, returned against the foe. After the Horseman, hurling his javelins, had slain {the Boar}, he is said to have spoken thus: "I am glad that I gave assistance at your entreaties, for I have captured a prey, and have learned how useful you are;" and so compelled him, unwilling as he was, to submit to the rein. Then {said the Horse}, sorrowing: "Fool that I am! while seeking to revenge a trifling matter, I have met with slavery."

This Fable will admonish the passionate, that it is better to be injured with impunity, than to put ourselves in the power of another.

[Footnote IV.7: The horse)—Ver. 3. "Sonipes," literally "sounding-hoof." This was a name commonly given to the horse by the Romans. Lucan repeatedly calls a war-horse by this epithet.]

FABLE V.

AESOP INTERPRETING A WILL.

I will show to posterity, by a short story, that there is often more merit in one man than in a multitude.

A Person, at his death, left three Daughters; one handsome, and hunting for the men with her eyes; the second, an industrious spinner of wool,[8] frugal, and fond of a country life; the third, given to wine, and very ugly. Now the old man made their Mother his heir, on this condition, that she should distribute his whole fortune equally among the three, but in such a manner that they should not possess or enjoy what was given them; {and} further, that as soon as they should cease to have the property which they had received, they should pay over to their Mother a hundred thousand sesterces. The rumour spreads all over Athens. The anxious Mother consults the learned in the law. No one can explain in what way they are not to possess what has been given, or have the enjoyment {of it}; and then again, in what way those who have received nothing, are to pay money. After a long time had been wasted, and still the meaning of the will could not be understood, the Parent, disregarding the strict letter of the law, consulted equity.[9] For the Wanton, she sets aside the garments, female trinkets, silver bathing-vessels, eunuchs, {and} beardless boys: for the Worker in wool, the fields, cattle, farm, labourers, oxen, beasts of burden, and implements of husbandry: for the Drinker, a store-room,[10] well stocked with casks of old wine, a finely finished house,[11] and delightful gardens. When she was intending to distribute what was thus set apart for each, and the public approved, who knew them well; Aesop suddenly stood up in the midst of the multitude, {and exclaimed}: "O! if consciousness remained to their buried father, how would he grieve that the people of Athens are unable to interpret his will!"

On this, being questioned, he explained the error of them all: "The house and the furniture, with the fine gardens, and the old wines, give to the Worker in wool, so fond of a country life. The clothes, the pearls, the attendants, and other things, make over to her who spends her life in luxury. The fields, the vines, and the flocks, with the shepherds, present to the Wanton. Not one will be able to retain possession of what is alien to her taste. The Ungainly one will sell her wardrobe to procure wine; the Wanton will part with the lands to procure fine clothes; and she who delights in cattle, and attends to her spinning, will get rid of her luxurious abode at any price. Thus, no one will possess what was given, and they will pay to their Mother the sum named from the price of the things, which each of them has sold."

Thus did the sagacity of one man find out what had baffled the superficial enquiries of many.

[Footnote IV.8: Spinner of wool)—Ver. 5. "Lanificam." Working in wool was the constant employment of the more industrious among the females of the higher class. Ovid, in the Fasti, Book ii., l. 742, represents Lucretia as being found thus employed by her husband and Tarquinius. The Emperor Augustus refused to wear any clothes that were not woven by the females of his family.]

[Footnote IV.9: Consulted equity)—Ver. 20. This seems to be the meaning of "fidem advocare:" but the passage has caused considerable difficulty to the Commentators.]

[Footnote IV.10: A store-room)—Ver. 25. The "apotheca" was a place in the upper part of the house, in which the Romans frequently placed the amphorae in which their wine was stored. It was situate above the "fumarium," as the smoke was thought to heighten the flavour of the wine.]

[Footnote IV.11: A finely finished house)—Ver. 26. "Politam" probably refers to the care with which the houses of the opulent in cities were smoothed by the workman's art. According to some Commentators, however, "domus polita" here means "a house furnished with every luxury."]

FABLE VI.

THE BATTLE OF THE MICE AND THE WEASELS.

When the Mice, overcome by the army of the Weasels, (whose History is painted in {our} taverns[12]), took to flight, and crowded in trepidation about their narrow lurking-holes, with difficulty getting in, they managed, however, to escape death. Leaders, who had fastened horns to their heads, in order that they might have a conspicuous sign for {their} troops to follow in battle, stuck fast at the entrance, and were captured by the enemy. The victor, sacrificing them with greedy teeth, plunged them into the Tartarean recesses of his capacious paunch.

Whenever a people is reduced to the last extremity, the high position of its chiefs is in danger; the humble commonalty easily finds safety in obscurity.

[Footnote IV.12: In our taverns)—Ver. 2. We learn from Horace and other ancient writers, that it was the custom to paint comic subjects on the walls of the taverns; and similar subjects have been found painted on walls at Pompeii.]

FABLE VII.

THE POET'S DEFENCE AGAINST THE CENSURERS OF HIS FABLES.

You, fastidious {critic}, who carp at my writings, and disdain to read trifles of this kind, endure with some small patience this little book, while I smooth down the severity of your brow, and Aesop comes forward in a new and more lofty style.[13]

Would that the pine had never fallen on the summits of Pelion[14] under the Thessalian axe! and that Argus had never, with the aid of Pallas, invented a way boldly to meet certain death, {in the} ship which, to the destruction of Greeks and Barbarians, first laid open the bays of the inhospitable Euxine. For both had the house of the proud Aeetes to lament it, and the realms of Pelias[15] fell by the guilt of Medea, who, after concealing by various methods the cruelty of her disposition, there effected her escape, by means of the limbs[16] of her brother, {and} here embrued the hands of the daughters of Pelias in their father's blood.

What think you of this? "This, too, is mere folly," say you, "and is an untrue story; for long before this, Minos, of more ancient date, subjected the Aegaean seas with his fleet, and by seasonable correction, punished {piratical} attacks." What then can I possibly do for you, my Cato of a Reader, if neither Fables[17] nor Tragic Stories suit your taste? Do not be too severe upon {all} literary men, lest they repay you the injury with interest.

This is said to those who are over-squeamish in their folly, and, to gain a reputation for wisdom, would censure heaven itself.

[Footnote IV.13: More lofty style)—Ver. 5. "Cothurnis," literally "the buskins of Tragedy."]

[Footnote IV.14: Summits of Pelion)—Ver 6. The ship Argo was said to have been built of wood grown on Mount Pelion. The author alludes to the expedition of Jason to Colchis to fetch thence the Golden Fleece.]

[Footnote IV.15: The realms of Pelias)—Ver. 13. He alludes to the death of Pelias, King of Thessaly, through the schemes of Medea, daughter of Aeetes, King of Colchis, at the hands of his own daughters. See Ovid's Metamorphoses, B. vii. l. 297, et seq.]

[Footnote IV.16: Limbs of her brother)—Ver. 15. When, on her flight with Jason, Aeetes pursued his daughter Medea, she, having taken with her her brother Absyrtus, in order to retard her father in the pursuit, cut her brother in pieces, and scattered his limbs in the way. Thus, while the father was employed in gathering the limbs of his son, Medea made her escape. The place where this happened was thence said to have had the name of Tomi; and to this place Ovid was banished by Augustus. See the Story related in the Tristia of Ovid, B. iii. El. ix.]

[Footnote IV.17: If neither Fables)—Ver. 22. By "fabellae," he probably means Aesopian fables, while by "fabulae," the more lofty stories of tragedy are meant. By "Cato," he means a censorious or over-scrupulous reader.]

FABLE VIII.

THE VIPER AND THE FILE.

Let him who with greedy teeth attacks one who can bite harder, consider himself described in this Fable.

A Viper came[18] into a smith's workshop; {and} while on the search whether there was anything fit to eat, fastened her teeth upon a File. That, however, disdainfully exclaimed "Why, fool, do you try to wound me with your teeth, who am in the habit of gnawing asunder every kind of iron?"

[Footnote IV.18: A Viper entered)—Ver. 3. Lokman, the Arabian Fabulist, has the same fable; but there a Cat plays the part of the Viper.]

FABLE IX.

THE FOX AND THE GOAT.

As soon as a crafty man has fallen into danger, he seeks to make his escape by the sacrifice of another.

A Fox, through inadvertence, having fallen into a well,[19] and being closed in by the sides which were too high for her, a Goat parched with thirst came to the same spot, and asked whether the water was good, and in plenty. The other, devising a stratagem, {replied}: "Come down, {my} friend: such is the goodness of the water, that my pleasure {in drinking} cannot be satisfied." Longbeard descended; then the Fox, mounting on his high horns, escaped from the well, and left the Goat to stick fast in the enclosed mud.

[Footnote IV.19: Fallen into a well)—Ver. 3. Some of the Commentators think that Tiberius and Sejanus are pointed at in this Fable.]

FABLE X.

OF THE VICES OF MEN.

Jupiter has loaded us with a couple of Wallets: the one, filled with our own vices, he has placed at our backs, {the other}, heavy with those of others, he has hung before.

From this circumstance, we are not able to see our own faults: but as soon as others make a slip, we are ready to censure.

FABLE XI.

A THIEF PILLAGING THE ALTAR OF JUPITER.

A Thief lighted his Lamp at the altar of Jupiter, and then plundered it by the help of its own light. Just as he was taking his departure, laden with the results of his sacrilege, the Holy Place suddenly sent forth these words: "Although these were the gifts of the wicked, and to me abominable, so much so that I care not to be spoiled of them, still, profane man, thou shalt pay the penalty with thy life, when hereafter, the day of punishment, appointed by fate, arrives. But, that our fire, by means of which piety worships the awful Gods, may not afford its light to crime, I forbid that {henceforth} there shall be any such interchange of light." Accordingly, to this day, it is neither lawful for a lamp {to be lighted} at the fire of the Gods, nor yet a sacrifice kindled from a lamp.[20]

[Footnote IV.20: From a lamp)—Ver. 13. The ancients were compelled to light sacrifices to the Gods from torches, and not with fire from a lamp. More usually a fire was kept constantly burning in the temple for the purpose.]

No other than he who invented this Fable, could explain how many useful lessons it affords. In the first place, it teaches that those whom you yourself have brought up, may often be found the most hostile to you: then again, it shows that crimes are punished not through the wrath of the Gods, but at the time appointed by the Fates: lastly, it warns the good to use nothing in common with the wicked.

FABLE XII.

THE EVILS OF WEALTH.

HERCULES and PLUTUS.

Riches are deservedly despised by a man of worth,[21] because a well-stored chest intercepts praise from its true objects.

When Hercules was received into heaven as the reward of his virtues, and saluted in turn the Gods who were congratulating him, on Plutus approaching, who is the child of Fortune, he turned away his eyes. {His} father, {Jupiter}, enquired the reason: "I hate him," says he, "because he is the friend of the wicked, and at the same time corrupts all by presenting the temptation of gain."

[Footnote IV.21: A man of worth)—Ver. 1. It has been suggested that by "forti viro," Phaedrus means a military man. The word "fortis" seems rather here to mean "of real worth," or "of strong mind." Some of ancient authors make Plutus to be the son of Ceres and Jasius.]

FABLE XIII.

THE LION REIGNING.

Nothing is more advantageous to a man than to speak the truth; a maxim that ought indeed to be approved of by all; but still sincerity is frequently impelled to its own destruction.

The Lion having made himself king of the wild beasts, and wishing to acquire the reputation of equity, abandoned his former course {of rapine}, and, content among them with a moderate supply of food, distributed hallowed justice with incorruptible fidelity. But after second thoughts began to prevail[22]

*** *** ***

(The rest is lost).

FABLE XIV.

PROMETHEUS.

*** *** *** *** *** *** A fictione veretri linguam mulieris, Affinitatem traxit inde obscoenitas. Rogavit alter, tribadas et molles mares Quae ratio procreasset? Exposuit senex. Idem Prometheus auctor vulgi fictilis (Qui simul offendit ad fortunam, frangitur,) Naturae partes, veste quas celat pudor, Quum separatim toto finxisset die, Aptare mox ut posset corporibus suis, Ad coenam est invitatus subito a Libero; Ubi irrigatus multo venas nectare Sero domum est reversus titubanti pede. Tum semisomno corde et errore ebrio, Applicuit virginale generi masculo, Et masculina membra applicuit faeminis; Ita nunc libido pravo fruitur gaudio.

FABLE XV.

THE SHE-GOATS AND THEIR BEARDS.

The She-Goats[23] having obtained of Jupiter the favour of a beard, the He-Goats, full of concern, began to be indignant that the females rivalled them in their dignity. "Suffer them," said {the God}, "to enjoy their empty honours, and to use the badge that belongs to your rank, so long as they are not sharers in your courage."

This Fable teaches you to bear that those who are inferior to you in merit should be like you in outside appearances.

[Footnote IV.22: Began to prevail)—Ver. 9. The remainder of this Fable is lost. It is supposed to have been torn out of the MS. of the writings of Phaedrus by some pious monk, who, objecting to the following Fable, destroyed the leaf which contained the latter part of the present one, as well as some part of the next. Orellius considers the lines ending with "obscoenitas" as the fragment of a Fable distinct from the succeeding lines.]

[Footnote IV.23: The She-Goats)—Ver. 1. This Fable is thought by some to bear reference to the interference of Livia in affairs of state.]

FABLE XVI.

THE PILOT AND THE MARINERS.

On a certain man complaining of his {adverse} fortune, Aesop, for the purpose of consoling him, invented {this Fable}.

A ship which had been tossed by a fierce tempest (while the passengers were all in tears, and filled with apprehensions of death) on the day suddenly changing to a serene aspect, began to be borne along in safety upon the buoyant waves, and to inspire the mariners with an excess of gladness. On this, the Pilot, who had been rendered wise by experience, {remarked}: "We ought to be moderate in our joy, and to complain with caution; for the whole of life is a mixture of grief and joy."

FABLE XVII.

THE EMBASSY OF THE DOGS TO JUPITER.

The Dogs once sent[24] Ambassadors to Jupiter, to entreat of him a happier lot in life, and that he would deliver them from the insulting treatment of man, who gave them bread mixed with bran, and satisfied their most urgent hunger with filthy offal. The ambassadors set out, {but} with no hasty steps, while snuffing with their nostrils for food in every filth. Being summoned, they fail to make their appearance. After some difficulty Mercury finds them at last, and brings them up in confusion. As soon, however, as they saw the countenance of mighty Jove, in their fright they bewrayed the whole palace. Out they go, driven away with sticks; but great Jove forbade that they should be sent back. {The Dogs}, wondering that their Ambassadors did not return, {and} suspecting that they had committed something disgraceful, after a while ordered others to be appointed to aid them. Rumour {soon} betrayed the former Ambassadors. Dreading that something of a similar nature may happen a second time, they stuff the Dogs behind with perfumes, and plenty of them. They give their directions; the Ambassadors are dispatched; at once they take their departure. They beg for an audience, {and} forthwith obtain it. Then did the most mighty Father of the Gods take his seat {on his throne}, and brandish his thunders; all things began to shake. The Dogs in alarm, so sudden was the crash, in a moment let fall the perfumes with their dung. All cry out, that the affront must be avenged. {But} before proceeding to punishment, thus spoke Jupiter:— "It is not for a King to send Ambassadors away, nor is it a difficult matter to inflict a {proper} punishment on the offence; but by way of judgment this is the reward you shall have. I don't forbid their return, but they shall be famished with hunger, lest they be not able to keep their stomachs in order. And as for those who sent such despicable {Ambassadors} as you, they shall never be free from the insults of man."

And so it is,[25] that even now {the Dogs} of the present day are in expectation of their Ambassadors. When one of them sees a strange {Dog} appear, he snuffs at his tail.

[Footnote IV.24: The Dogs once sent)—Ver. 1. It is supposed that in this singular Fable, Phaedrus ridicules, in a covert manner, some of the prevailing superstitions of his day, or else that he satirizes Tiberius and Sejanus, while the Dogs signify the Roman people.]

[Footnote IV.25: And so it is)—Ver. 35. This and the next line are regarded by many as spurious: indeed Hare is disinclined to believe that this Fable was written by Phaedrus at all.]

FABLE XVIII.

THE MAN AND THE SNAKE.

He who gives relief to the wicked has to repent it before long.

A Man took up a Snake stiffened with frost, and warmed her in his bosom, being compassionate to his own undoing; for when she had recovered, she instantly killed the Man. On another one asking her the reason of {this} crime, she made answer: "That people may learn not to assist the wicked."[26]

[Footnote IV.26: Not to assist the wicked)—Ver. 5. It has been remarked that Phaedrus here deviates from nature, in making the Serpent give a bad character of itself. Those who think that Phaedrus wrote after the time of Tiberius, suggest that Caligula is represented by the snake, who wreaked his cruelty on his former benefactors, Macro and Ennia.]

FABLE XIX.

THE FOX AND THE DRAGON.

While a Fox, digging a lair, was throwing out the earth, and making deeper and more numerous burrows, she came to the farthest recesses of a Dragon's den,[27] who was watching some treasure hidden there. As soon as {the Fox} perceived him, {she began}:— "In the first place, I beg that you will pardon my unintentional {intrusion}; and next, as you see clearly enough that gold is not suited to my mode of life, have the goodness to answer me: what profit do you derive from this toil, or what is the reward, so great that you should be deprived of sleep, and pass your life in darkness?" "None {at all}," replied the other; "but this {task} has been assigned me by supreme Jove." "Then you neither take {anything} for yourself, nor give to another?" "Such is the will of the Fates." "Don't be angry {then}, if I say frankly: the man is born under the displeasure of the Gods who is like you."

As you must go to that place to which {others} have gone before, why in the blindness of your mind do you torment your wretched existence? To you I address myself, Miser, joy of your heir,[28] who rob the Gods of their incense, yourself of food; who hear with sorrow the musical sound of the lyre; whom the joyous notes of the pipes torment; from whom the price of provisions extorts a groan;[29] who, while adding some farthings to your estate, offend heaven by your sordid perjuries; who are for cutting down[30] every expense at your funeral, for fear Libitina[31] should be at all a gainer at the expense of your property.

[Footnote IV.27: Of a Dragon's den)—Ver. 3. In former times, when riches were more commonly duried in the earth, it was perhaps found convenient to encourage a superstitious notion, which was very prevalent, that they were guarded by watchful Dragons.]

[Footnote IV.28: Joy of your heir)—Ver. 18. That is to say, in his death.]

[Footnote IV.29: Extorts a groan)—Ver. 22. So in the Aulularia of Plautus, Act II. Sc. viii. the miser Euclio is represented as groaning over the high price of provisions.]

[Footnote IV.30: Cutting down)—Ver. 25. In his will.]

[Footnote IV.31: Lest Libitina)—Ver. 26. The "pollinctores," or "undertakers," kept their biers and other implements required at funerals, at the Temple of the Goddess Libitina.]

FABLE XX.

PHAEDRUS.

Although malice may dissemble for the present, I am still perfectly aware what judgment it will think proper to arrive at. Whatever it shall {here} deem worthy {to be transmitted} to posterity, it will say belongs to Aesop; if it shall be not so well pleased with any portion, it will, for any wager, contend that the same was composed by me. One who thus thinks, I would refute once for all by {this} my answer: whether this work is silly, or whether it is worthy of praise, he was the inventor: my hand has brought it to perfection. But let us pursue our purpose in the order we proposed.

FABLE XXI.

THE SHIPWRECK OF SIMONIDES.

A learned man has always a fund of riches in himself.

Simonides, who wrote {such} excellent {lyric} poems, the more easily to support his poverty, began to make a tour of the celebrated cities of Asia, singing the praises of victors for such reward as he might receive. After he had become enriched by this kind of gain, he resolved to return to his native land by sea; (for he was born, it is said, in the island of Ceos[32]). {Accordingly} he embarked in a ship, which a dreadful tempest, together with its own rottenness, caused to founder at sea. Some gathered together their girdles,[33] others their precious effects, {which formed} the support of their existence. One who was over inquisitive, {remarked}: "Are you going to save none of your property, Simonides?" He made reply: "All my {possessions} are about me." A few {only} made their escape by swimming, for the majority, being weighed down by their burdens, perished. Some thieves make their appearance, and seize what each person has saved, leaving them naked. Clazomenae, an ancient city, chanced to be near; to which the shipwrecked persons repaired. Here a person devoted to the pursuits of literature, who had often read the lines of Simonides, and was a very great admirer of him though he had never seen him, knowing from his very language {who he was}, received him with the greatest pleasure into his house, and furnished him with clothes, money, and attendants. The others {meanwhile} were carrying about their pictures,[34] begging for victuals. Simonides chanced to meet them; and, as soon as he saw them, remarked: "I told you that all my property was about me; what you endeavoured to save is lost."

[Footnote IV.32: In the island of Ceos)—Ver. 28. The poet Simonides was born at Iulis, a city of the isle of Ceos, one of the Cyclades, in the Aegaean Sea.]

[Footnote IV.33: Their girdles)—Ver. 11. Among the ancients, the zones or girdles were sometimes used for the purpose of keeping money there; while sometimes purses were carried suspended from them.]

[Footnote IV.34: Carrying about their pictures)—Ver. 24. It was the custom for shipwrecked persons to go about soliciting charity with a painting suspended from the neck, representing their calamity; much in the fashion which we sometimes see followed at the present day.]

FABLE XXII.

THE MOUNTAIN IN LABOUR.

A Mountain[35] was in labour, sending forth dreadful groans, and there was in the districts the highest expectation. After all, it brought forth a Mouse.

This is designed for you, who, when you have threatened great things, produce nothing.

[Footnote IV.35: A Mountain)—Ver. 1. Tachos, King of Egypt, is said by Plutarch to have said to Agesilaus, King of Sparta, when he came to his assistance: "The mountain has been in labour, Jupiter has been in alarm, but it has brought forth a mouse," alluding to the diminutive stature of Agesilaus; who contented himself with replying, in answer to this rude remark: "One day I shall appear to you even to be a lion."]

FABLE XXIII.

THE ANT AND THE FLY.

An Ant and a Fly were contending with great warmth which was of the greater importance. The Fly was the first to begin: "Can you possibly compare with my endowments? When a sacrifice is made, I am the first to taste of the entrails that belong to the Gods. I pass my time among the altars, I wander through all the temples; soon as I have espied it, I seat myself on the head of a king; and I taste of the chaste kisses of matrons. I labour not, and yet enjoy the nicest of things: what like to this, {good} rustic, falls to your lot?" "Eating with the Gods," said the Ant, "is certainly a thing to be boasted of; but by him who is invited, not him who is loathed {as an intruder}. You talk about kings and the kisses of matrons. While I am carefully heaping up a stock of grain for winter, I see you feeding on filth about the walls. You frequent the altars; yes, and are driven away as often as you come. You labour not; therefore it is that you have nothing when you stand in need of it. And, further, you boast about what modesty ought to conceal. You tease me in summer; when winter comes you are silent. While the cold is shrivelling you up and putting you to death, a well-stored abode harbours me. Surely I have now pulled down your pride enough."

A Fable of this nature distinctly points out the characters of those who set themselves off with unfounded praises, and of those whose virtues gain solid fame.

FABLE XXIV.

SIMONIDES PRESERVED BY THE GODS.

I have said, above, how greatly learning is esteemed among men: I will now hand down to posterity how great is the honor paid to it by the Gods.

Simonides, the very same of whom I have {before} made mention, agreed, at a fixed price, to write a panegyric for a certain Pugilist,[36] who had been victorious: {accordingly} he sought retirement. As the meagreness of his subject cramped his imagination, he used, according to general custom, the license of the Poet, and introduced the twin stars of Leda,[37] citing them as an example of similar honours. He finished the Poem according to contract, but received {only} a third part of the sum agreed upon. On his demanding the rest: "They," said he, "will give it you whose praises occupy {the other} two-thirds; but, that I may feel convinced that you have not departed in anger, promise to dine with me, {as} I intend to-day to invite my kinsmen, in the number of whom I reckon you." Although defrauded, and smarting under the injury, in order that he might not, by parting on bad terms, break off all friendly intercourse, he promised that he would. At the hour named he returned, {and} took his place at table. The banquet shone joyously with its cups; the house resounded with gladness, amid vast preparations, when, on a sudden, two young men, covered with dust, and dripping with perspiration, their bodies of more than human form, requested one of the servants to call Simonides to them, {and say} that it was of consequence to him to make no delay. The man, quite confused, called forth Simonides; {and} hardly had he put one foot out of the banquetting room, when suddenly the fall of the ceiling crushed the rest, and no young men were to be seen at the gate.

When the circumstances of the story I have told were made known, all were persuaded that the personal intervention of the Divinities had saved the Poet's life by way of reward.

[Footnote IV.36: A certain Pugilist)—Ver. 5. "Pyctae;" from the Greek pukte:s, a "boxer," or "pugilist," Latinized.]

[Footnote IV.37: Twin stars of Leda)—Ver. 9. Castor and Pollux, the twin sons of Leda.]

EPILOGUE.

There are still remaining many things which I might say, and there is a copious abundance of subjects; but {though} witticisms, well-timed, are pleasing; out of place, they disgust. Wherefore, most upright Particulo (a name destined to live in my writings, so long as a value shall continue to be set upon the Latin literature), if {you like not} my genius, at least approve my brevity, which has the more just claim to be commended, seeing how wearisome Poets {usually} are.[38]

[Footnote IV.38: Usually are)—Ver. 9. Orellius introduces this after Fable V in the Fifth Book.]



BOOK V.

PROLOGUE.

If I shall anywhere insert the name of Aesop, 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 Eleutherae, 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 "paenula" 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 Mecaenas, 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 "aulaeum," 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 "aulaea 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 Phaedrus 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 PHAEDRUS.[1]

[Footnote NF.1: Attributed to Phaedrus)—Cassito and Jannelli, with several other critics, are strongly of opinion that these Fables were written by Phaedrus. On a critical examination, however, they will be found to be so dissimilar in style and language from those acknowledged to be by Phaedrus, 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 lacunae 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 Phaedrus.]

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 Danaids 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.

AESOP AND THE AUTHOR.

On a bad Author who praised himself.

A Person had recited[8] some worthless composition to Aesop, 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, Aesop 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 Praetorium. 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 AESOP.

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. Aesop 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 Hymenaeus 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.

AESOP AND HIS MISTRESS.

How injurious it often is to tell the Truth.

Aesop 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 {Aesop}, "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 Phaedrus.]

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 AESOP.

There is no necessity to add evil to evil.

A Slave, when running away from a Master of severe disposition, met Aesop, to whom he was known as a neighbour: "Why {are} you in such a hurry?" {said Aesop}. "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 Aesop; "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 Phaedrus.]

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 Phaedrus, 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 Phaedrus, 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 psuche:. 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.]



AESOPIAN FABLES.[1]

THE AUTHORS OF WHICH ARE NOT KNOWN

[Footnote AF.1: Aesopian Fables)—These Aesopian Fables appear much more worthy of the genius of Phaedrus 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 Phaedrus.]

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.

[Footnote AF.2: Planning for another)—Ver. 10. The nature of the reason assigned by the Hawk is not very clear. Perhaps the writer did not care that he should give even so much as a specious reason.]

FABLE VIII.

THE SNAIL AND THE APE.

A Snail, smitten with admiration of a Mirror which she had found, began to climb its shining face, and lick it, fancying she could confer no greater favour upon it, than to stain its brightness with her slime. An Ape, when he saw the Mirror {thus} defiled, remarked: "He who allows himself to be trodden by such {beings}, deserves to suffer such a disgrace."

This Fable is written for those Women who unite themselves to ignorant and foolish Men.

FABLE IX.

THE CITY MOUSE AND COUNTRY MOUSE.

A City Mouse being once entertained at the table of a Country one, dined on humble acorns in a hole. Afterwards he prevailed upon the Countryman by his entreaties to enter the city and a cellar that abounded with the choicest things. Here, while they were enjoying remnants of various kinds, the door is thrown open, and in comes the Butler; the Mice, terrified at the noise, fly in different directions, and the City one easily hides himself in his well-known holes; while the unfortunate Rustic, all trepidation in that strange house, and dreading death, runs to-and-fro along the walls. When the Butler had taken what he wanted, and had shut the door, the City Mouse bade the Country one again to take courage. The latter, still in a state of perturbation, replied: "I hardly can take any food for fear. Do you think he will come?" —"Why are you in such a fright?" said the City one; "come, let us enjoy dainties which you may seek in vain in the country." The Countryman {replied}: "You, who don't know what it is to fear, will enjoy all these things; but, free from care and at liberty, may acorns be my food!"

'Tis better to live secure in poverty, than to be consumed by the cares attendant upon riches.

FABLE X.

THE ASS FAWNING UPON HIS MASTER.

An Ass, seeing the Dog fawn upon his master, and how he was crammed at his table each day, and had bits thrown to him in abundance by the Servants, thus remarked: "If the Master and the Servants are so very fond of a most filthy Dog, what must it be with me, if I should pay him similar attentions, who am much better than this Dog, and useful and praiseworthy in many respects; who am supported by the pure streams of undefiled water, and never in the habit of feeding upon nasty food? Surely I am more worthy than a whelp to enjoy a happy life, and to obtain the highest honor." While the Ass is thus soliloquising, he sees his Master enter the stable; so running up to him in haste and braying aloud, he leaps upon him, claps both feet on his shoulders, begins to lick his face; and tearing his clothes with his dirty hoofs, he fatigues his Master with his heavy weight, as he stupidly fawns upon him. At their Master's outcry the Servants run to the spot, and seizing everywhere such sticks and stones as come in their way, they punish the braying {beast}, and knocking him off his Master's body, soon send him back, half-dead to the manger, with sore limbs and battered rump.

{This} Fable teaches that a fool is not to thrust himself upon those who do not want him, or affect to perform the part of one superior {to him}.

FABLE XI.

THE CRANE, THE CROW, AND THE COUNTRYMAN.

A Crane and a Crow had made a league on oath, that the Crane should protect the Crow against the Birds, {and} that the Crow should foretell the future, so that the Crane might be on her guard. After this, on their frequently flying into the fields of a certain Countryman, and tearing up by the roots what had been sown, the owner of the field saw it, and being vexed, cried out: "Give me a stone, Boy, that I may hit the Crane." When the Crow heard this, at once she warned the Crane, who took all due precaution. On another day, too, the Crow hearing him ask for a stone, again warned the Crane carefully to avoid the danger. The Countryman, suspecting that the divining Bird heard his commands, said to the Boy: "If I say, give me a cake, do you secretly hand me a stone." The Crane came {again}; he bade the Boy give him a cake, but the Boy gave him a stone, with which he hit the Crane, and broke her legs. The Crane, on being wounded, said: "Prophetic Crow, where now are your auspices? Why did you not hasten to warn your companion, as you swore you would, that no such evil might befall me?" The Crow made answer: "It is not my art that deserves to be blamed; but the purposes of double-tongued people are so deceiving, who say one thing and do another."

Those who impose upon the inexperienced by deceitful promises, fail not to cajole them by-and-bye with pretended reasons.

FABLE XII.

THE BIRDS AND THE SWALLOW.

The Birds having assembled in one spot, saw a Man sowing flax in a field. When the Swallow found that they thought nothing at all of this, she is reported to have called them together, and thus addressed them: "Danger awaits us all from this, if the seed should come to maturity." The Birds laughed {at her}. When the crop, however, sprang up, the Swallow again remarked: "Our destruction is impending; come, let us root up the noxious blades, lest, if they shortly grow up, nets may be made thereof, and we may be taken by the contrivances of man." The Birds persist in laughing at the words of the Swallow, and foolishly despise {this} most prudent advice. But she, in her caution, at once betook herself to Man, that she might suspend her nest in safety under his rafters. The Birds, however, who had disregarded her wholesome advice, being caught in nets made of the flax, came to an untimely end.

FABLE XIII.

THE PARTRIDGE AND THE FOX.

Once on a time a Partridge was sitting in a lofty tree. A Fox came up, and began {thus} to speak: "O Partridge, how beautiful is your aspect! Your beak transcends the coral; your thighs the brightness of purple. And then, if you were to sleep, how much more beauteous you would be." As soon as the silly Bird had closed her eyes, that instant the Fox seized the credulous thing. Suppliantly she uttered these words, mingled with loud cries: "O Fox, I beseech you, by the graceful dexterity of your exquisite skill, utter my name as before, and then you shall devour me." The Fox, willing to speak, opened his mouth, and so the Partridge escaped destruction. Then said the deluded Fox: "What need was there for me to speak?" The Partridge retorted: "And what necessity was there for me to sleep, when my hour for sleep had not come?"

This is for those who speak when there is no occasion, and who sleep when it is requisite to be on the watch.

FABLE XIV.

THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE BIRDS.

An Ass and an Ox, fastened to the same yoke, were drawing a waggon. While the Ox was pulling with all his might he broke his horn. The Ass swears that he experiences no help whatever from his weak companion. Exerting himself in the labour, the Ox breaks his other horn, and at length falls dead upon the ground. Presently, the Herdsman loads the Ass with the flesh of the Ox, and he breaks down amid a thousand blows, and stretched in the middle of the road, expires. The Birds flying to the prey, exclaim: "If you had shown yourself compassionate to the Ox when he entreated you, you would not have been food for us through your untimely death."

FABLE XV.

THE LION AND THE SHEPHERD.

A Lion,[3] while wandering in a wood, trod on a thorn, and soon after came up, wagging his tail, to a Shepherd: "Don't be alarmed," {said he}, "I suppliantly entreat your aid; I am not in search for prey." Lifting up the {wounded} foot, the Man places it in his lap, and, taking out the thorn, relieves {the patient's} severe pain: whereupon the Lion returns to the woods. Some time after, the Shepherd (being accused on a false charge) is condemned, and is ordered to be exposed to ravening Beasts at the ensuing games. While the Beasts, on being let out,[4] are roaming to-and-fro, the Lion recognizes the Man who effected the cure, and again raising his foot, places it in the Shepherd's lap. The King, as soon as he aware of this, immediately restored the Lion to the woods, and the Shepherd to his friends.

[Footnote AF.3: A Lion)—Ver. 1. This story is also told by Seneca—De Beneficiis, B. II. c. 19, and by Aulus Gellius, B. III. c. 14.]

[Footnote AF.4: The Beasts, on being let out)—Ver. 10. The beasts were sent forth from "caveae," or "cages," into the area of the Circus or Amphitheatre.]

FABLE XVI.

THE GNAT AND THE BULL.

A Gnat having challenged a Bull to a trial of strength, all the People came to see the combat. Then {said} the Gnat: "'Tis enough that you have come to meet me in combat; for {though} little in my own idea, I am great in your judgment," {and so saying}, he took himself off on light wing through the air, and duped the multitude, and eluded the threats of the Bull. {Now} if the Bull had kept in mind his strength of neck, and had contemned an ignoble foe, the vapouring of the trifler would have been all in vain.

He loses character who puts himself on a level with the undeserving.

FABLE XVII.

THE HORSE AND THE ASS.

A Steed, swelling {with pride} beneath his trappings, met an Ass, and because the latter, wearied with his load, made room very slowly: "Hardly," said {the Horse}, "can I restrain myself from kicking you severely." The Ass held his peace, only appealing with his groans to the Gods. The Horse in a short space of time, broken-winded with running, is sent to the farm. There the Ass espying him laden with dung, thus jeered him: "Where are your former trappings, vain boaster, who have now fallen into the misery which you treated with such contempt?"

Let not the fortunate man, unmindful of the uncertainty of fortune, despise the lowly one, seeing that he knows not what he may come to himself.

FABLE XVIII.

THE BIRDS, THE BEASTS, AND THE BAT.

The Birds were at war with the Beasts, and the conquerors were defeated in their turn; but the Bat, fearing the doubtful issue of {the strife}, always betook himself to those whom he saw victorious. When they had returned to their former state of peace, the fraud was apparent to both sides; convicted therefore of a crime so disgraceful, {and} flying from the light, he thenceforth hid himself in deep darkness, always flying alone by night.