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قراءة كتاب Fables
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 4
blood;
The mother helpless. So he rush’d
With shaggy flanks, and snarling gnash’d
The gripping teeth that gleam’d between
His cruel red lips scarcely seen,
While springing branches clash’d behind,
And left her weeping to the wind.
‘Ho!’ roar’d the Monarch, ‘call the Court!
With this black ruffian I’ll be short.
How often have I giv’n command
The young shall not be taken’—and
His thunder rang across the land,
Until the forest flowers for fear
Shut up their petals not to hear.
With this black ruffian I’ll be short.
How often have I giv’n command
The young shall not be taken’—and
His thunder rang across the land,
Until the forest flowers for fear
Shut up their petals not to hear.
Then his gay Herald, the Macaw,
Screams out the hest from hill to haugh,
And from a thousand delled dens
Run forth his frighten’d denizens,
To share the Council, or to know
What makes the Monarch bellow so.
And, as they gather, to and fro
He paces, and his red eyes flash
Enough to turn them all to ash.
Arranged before him in a row
They take their places, high and low.
The Wicked Wolf between his guards,
Two grave and stalwart Leopards,
Stands tip-toe, snarling, and repeating
It was not he who did the eating;
And, with his tail between his legs,
For justice, justice only, begs.
‘You or another,’ roar’d the King,
‘I’ll find the one who did the thing—
But first, Sir Premier, please reply
(A Constitutional Monarch I)
Why do you let my people die?’
At this, with deference, said the Bear,
’Twas not his fault—he was not there.
Still lab’ring in affairs of state
To make the kingdom good and great
(Altho’ the wicked Opposition
Did ever thwart him in his mission),
A sleepless eye he always cast
Upon the future and the past
To frustrate—hard for anyone—
What the Last Government had done.
At present he’d in contemplation
Some mighty measures for the nation—
To bring the Butterflies to terms
By giving franchise to the Worms;
To teach the Gnats to carry logs;
To give self-government to Hogs
Because they had resolved to shirk,
With noble Scorn, ignoble Work;
To succour Wildcats, and to keep
The Wolves secure against the Sheep.
And here he thought he smelt a plot:
This trivial matter, was it not
A little juggle to discredit
This last great measure?—There, he’d said it.
But still his heart bled at the woe
Occasion’d by his Party’s foe.
Screams out the hest from hill to haugh,
And from a thousand delled dens
Run forth his frighten’d denizens,
To share the Council, or to know
What makes the Monarch bellow so.
And, as they gather, to and fro
He paces, and his red eyes flash
Enough to turn them all to ash.
Arranged before him in a row
They take their places, high and low.
The Wicked Wolf between his guards,
Two grave and stalwart Leopards,
Stands tip-toe, snarling, and repeating
It was not he who did the eating;
And, with his tail between his legs,
For justice, justice only, begs.
‘You or another,’ roar’d the King,
‘I’ll find the one who did the thing—
But first, Sir Premier, please reply
(A Constitutional Monarch I)
Why do you let my people die?’
At this, with deference, said the Bear,
’Twas not his fault—he was not there.
Still lab’ring in affairs of state
To make the kingdom good and great
(Altho’ the wicked Opposition
Did ever thwart him in his mission),
A sleepless eye he always cast
Upon the future and the past
To frustrate—hard for anyone—
What the Last Government had done.
At present he’d in contemplation
Some mighty measures for the nation—
To bring the Butterflies to terms
By giving franchise to the Worms;
To teach the Gnats to carry logs;
To give self-government to Hogs
Because they had resolved to shirk,
With noble Scorn, ignoble Work;
To succour Wildcats, and to keep
The Wolves secure against the Sheep.
And here he thought he smelt a plot:
This trivial matter, was it not
A little juggle to discredit
This last great measure?—There, he’d said it.
But still his heart bled at the woe
Occasion’d by his Party’s foe.
At this the Tiger shriek’d with rage
(The while his Secret’ry the Fox,
Took papers from his office box),
‘Unhappy land! accursed age!’
He cried, ‘You seek to murder me
With weight of brute Majority;
And me not only, but the cause
Of Pity, Justice, and the Laws!
Take back the charges you impute;
It is not me but you who do’t.
When we controll’d the Sov’reign’s land
The sun was bright, the breeze was bland.
The roving Heifer, free from care,
Scarce needed sniff th’ untainted air
For danger, and the young Gazelle
Drank heedless at the hidden well;
And even I with happy smile
Would lay me down to slumber, while
The careless Lambkins gambol’d round,
And Peace and Plenty blest the ground!
(The while his Secret’ry the Fox,
Took papers from his office box),
‘Unhappy land! accursed age!’
He cried, ‘You seek to murder me
With weight of brute Majority;
And me not only, but the cause
Of Pity, Justice, and the Laws!
Take back the charges you impute;
It is not me but you who do’t.
When we controll’d the Sov’reign’s land
The sun was bright, the breeze was bland.
The roving Heifer, free from care,
Scarce needed sniff th’ untainted air
For danger, and the young Gazelle
Drank heedless at the hidden well;
And even I with happy smile
Would lay me down to slumber, while
The careless Lambkins gambol’d round,
And Peace and Plenty blest the ground!
With this fine eloquence inflamed
The rival factions loudly named
Each other Brute, and (it is said)
Would soon have killed each other dead:
But now the Boar with growl and grunt
And bristling juba leapt to front.
‘Accursed both!’ he cried. ‘What, what!
Think you, ye fools, we know you not?
Each canting, lying partisan,
Who prates of Mercy and the Law
With merciless and murd’rous maw,
Will always eat us when he can—
Us, who with boon and bloodless toil
Seek but the acorns for our spoil—
Were not our eyes and tushes bright
To quell such bandits of the night.
Why, e’en the Monarch—’
Here a roar
From all the Council check’d the Boar;
And soon the King with pensive mien
Said, ‘This is not the way, I ween
To reach the truth—more difficult
Than we supposed. Let us consult
Our learned Judge, Lord Elephant.’
The rival factions loudly named
Each other Brute, and (it is said)
Would soon have killed each other dead:
But now the Boar with growl and grunt
And bristling juba leapt to front.
‘Accursed both!’ he cried. ‘What, what!
Think you, ye fools, we know you not?
Each canting, lying partisan,
Who prates of Mercy and the Law
With merciless and murd’rous maw,
Will always eat us when he can—
Us, who with boon and bloodless toil
Seek but the acorns for our spoil—
Were not our eyes and tushes bright
To quell such bandits of the night.
Why, e’en the Monarch—’
Here a roar
From all the Council check’d the Boar;
And soon the King with pensive mien
Said, ‘This is not the way, I ween
To reach the truth—more difficult
Than we supposed. Let us consult
Our learned Judge, Lord Elephant.’
So he advances, complaisant
With rocky brow, and at his ear
A pen as long as any spear;
Small eyes that saw behind the Truth
Convenience; and, as if to soothe
Dissention, with a swaying motion
From side to side. ‘Sire, I’ve a notion,’
He said, ‘there is no case at all.
The plaintiff can no witness call,
And hers the only evidence,
Which, rightly sifted, has no sense.
For in the night she says he took
Her first, her second in the brook.
How could she see him in the dark?
And for the second, pray you mark,
Perhaps it was more likely drown’d.
As for the third, when she look’d round,
He’d gone: how did she know him then?
This is of fancy, not of ken.
Moreover, in th’ alternative,
Sir Wolf can plead he could not live
Because the din the lambkins made
About him slumb’ring in the shade.
As for the much-bereaved Dame,
With whom I deeply sympathise—
Such sorrow wets my foolish eyes—
I fear she may be thought to blame
Because she troubled Majesty
Before she had instructed me
(Of course I ridicule the fee);
And I should be prepared, in short,
To hear it argued in the Court
Whether she did not bring the charge
In order merely to discharge
An ancient grudge against her foe—’
‘Enough! and let the prisoner go!’
The Sov’reign said. ‘And as for you,
Dishonest and malignant Ewe,
We do not order you to death
(Whate’er your conduct meriteth)
Only because it pleaseth us
To show we are magnanimous.’
(He was indeed much praised for that,
And more because the Sheep was fat).
‘Break up the Court. Enough of worry,
It’s time to dine, so let’s be merry.’
With rocky brow, and at his ear
A pen as long as any spear;
Small eyes that saw behind the Truth
Convenience; and, as if to soothe
Dissention, with a swaying motion
From side to side. ‘Sire, I’ve a notion,’
He said, ‘there is no case at all.
The plaintiff can no witness call,
And hers the only evidence,
Which, rightly sifted, has no sense.
For in the night she says he took
Her first, her second in the brook.
How could she see him in the dark?
And for the second, pray you mark,
Perhaps it was more likely drown’d.
As for the third, when she look’d round,
He’d gone: how did she know him then?
This is of fancy, not of ken.
Moreover, in th’ alternative,
Sir Wolf can plead he could not live
Because the din the lambkins made
About him slumb’ring in the shade.
As for the much-bereaved Dame,
With whom I deeply sympathise—
Such sorrow wets my foolish eyes—
I fear she may be thought to blame
Because she troubled Majesty
Before she had instructed me
(Of course I ridicule the fee);
And I should be prepared, in short,
To hear it argued in the Court
Whether she did not bring the charge
In order merely to discharge
An ancient grudge against her foe—’
‘Enough! and let the prisoner go!’
The Sov’reign said. ‘And as for you,
Dishonest and malignant Ewe,
We do not order you to death
(Whate’er your conduct meriteth)
Only because it pleaseth us
To show we are magnanimous.’
(He was indeed much praised for that,
And more because the Sheep was fat).
‘Break up the Court. Enough of worry,
It’s time to dine, so let’s be merry.’
With that they shifted in a hurry;
But in the scramble no one knew
(So says the Saga that is true)
What happen’d to the Piteous Ewe.
But in the scramble no one knew
(So says the Saga that is true)
What happen’d to the Piteous Ewe.
The Contest of Birds
Dedicated to all the Excellent
The Eagle which at Jove’s right hand
Was wont to take imperial stand,
Proud of his perch, and with fond beak
The Thund’rer’s fondling finger tweak,
Or blinking in sage thought t’ assume
Half sov’reignty and weigh the doom,
Was sick; for the World he sigh’d,
His Mountains and his Forests wide;
So true it is, not Jove’s right hand
Is worth to us our Native Land,
And that the Little we have not
Can make the Much we have forgot.
Was wont to take imperial stand,
Proud of his perch, and with fond beak
The Thund’rer’s fondling finger tweak,
Or blinking in sage thought t’ assume
Half sov’reignty and weigh the doom,
Was sick; for the World he sigh’d,
His Mountains and his Forests wide;
So true it is, not Jove’s right hand
Is worth to us our Native Land,
And that the Little we have not
Can make the Much we have forgot.
Therefore to earth with arching vans,
Released a while, the sky he spans
In flight; sinks thro’ the tempest; takes
The feather-fretting aid of wind;
And now, new born with pleasure, breaks
Upon a beauteous Vale confined.
Released a while, the sky he spans
In flight; sinks thro’ the tempest; takes
The feather-fretting aid of wind;
And now, new born with pleasure, breaks
Upon a beauteous Vale confined.
Now it is said that on that day
All Birds that are had ceased their play,
And question’d, each with heat and brawl,
Which was the noblest of them all:
Who when they saw the Eagle stand
Amidst them (now unused to stand
Upon the dull, flat, level earth)
Burst into loud contemptuous mirth.
‘It seems,’ exclaimed a civil Crow,
‘You come here, friend, quite apropos.
For we discuss’d the noblest here,
And you are truly the most queer.
Your wings and tail, excuse me friend,
Seem too long for your other end.
Pray change your—if I may suggest—
Your tailor and be better dress’d.
Look at myself how neat I go,
And in the latest fashion too.’
‘Or were your plumes, my friend, more bright
We could excuse your homely plight,’
The Peacock said: ‘pray just admire
My plumes of azure, gold and fire.
My dames about me ever move
In wonder, and confess their love.
Whene’er I show myself,’ said he,
‘The Gods look down from Heaven to see.’
‘Base virtues of the body!’ cried
The Parrot. ‘Is the soul denied?
Know friend that beauteous words are worth
More than these qualities of earth.
How wise I am admire, and know
It is by study I am so.
Still lost in contemplation I
Quite understand the earth and sky;
Can talk of wonders without end,
More e’en than I can comprehend;
Or say the wisest words, I ween,
Although I don’t know what they mean.’
‘Pshaw!’ said the Vulture, ‘fair or wise,
You shall some day become my prize.
Your merits shall be mine, ’od shake ’em,
Whenever I may choose to take ’em;
And when I have digested you
Your virtues shall become mine too.
As for our friend the new arrival,
If he contend to be my rival,
Let’s fight it out in heaven’s name!’
‘What base arbitrement! for shame!’
Exclaimed the mincing Nightingale.
‘If he aspire let him prevail
Against me in the test of song
Where he who triumphs is most strong.’
‘Beware of pride,’ the Dodo said;
‘I see that all of you are led
Astray by arrogance. For me,
I glory in humility.
I am so humble I confess
My utter wicked worthlessness.
I say with tears’—and here he blows
The part that should have been his nose—
‘I say with tears I dote upon
Being beaten, bruised and trampled on.
I love to be reminded still
Of all my faults and treated ill.
So ’tis, I think, confess’d by all
My virtue’s not equivocal.’
All Birds that are had ceased their play,
And question’d, each with heat and brawl,
Which was the noblest of them all:
Who when they saw the Eagle stand
Amidst them (now unused to stand
Upon the dull, flat, level earth)
Burst into loud contemptuous mirth.
‘It seems,’ exclaimed a civil Crow,
‘You come here, friend, quite apropos.
For we discuss’d the noblest here,
And you are truly the most queer.
Your wings and tail, excuse me friend,
Seem too long for your other end.
Pray change your—if I may suggest—
Your tailor and be better dress’d.
Look at myself how neat I go,
And in the latest fashion too.’
‘Or were your plumes, my friend, more bright
We could excuse your homely plight,’
The Peacock said: ‘pray just admire
My plumes of azure, gold and fire.
My dames about me ever move
In wonder, and confess their love.
Whene’er I show myself,’ said he,
‘The Gods look down from Heaven to see.’
‘Base virtues of the body!’ cried
The Parrot. ‘Is the soul denied?
Know friend that beauteous words are worth
More than these qualities of earth.
How wise I am admire, and know
It is by study I am so.
Still lost in contemplation I
Quite understand the earth and sky;
Can talk of wonders without end,
More e’en than I can comprehend;
Or say the wisest words, I ween,
Although I don’t know what they mean.’
‘Pshaw!’ said the Vulture, ‘fair or wise,
You shall some day become my prize.
Your merits shall be mine, ’od shake ’em,
Whenever I may choose to take ’em;
And when I have digested you
Your virtues shall become mine too.
As for our friend the new arrival,
If he contend to be my rival,
Let’s fight it out in heaven’s name!’
‘What base arbitrement! for shame!’
Exclaimed the mincing Nightingale.
‘If he aspire let him prevail
Against me in the test of song
Where he who triumphs is most strong.’
‘Beware of pride,’ the Dodo said;
‘I see that all of you are led
Astray by arrogance. For me,
I glory in humility.
I am so humble I confess
My utter wicked worthlessness.
I say with tears’—and here he blows
The part that should have been his nose—
‘I say with tears I dote upon
Being beaten, bruised and trampled on.
I love to be reminded still
Of all my faults and treated ill.
So ’tis, I think, confess’d by all
My virtue’s not equivocal.’