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Table of Contents | |
Section | Page |
Start of eBook | 1 |
Title: The Tales and Novels, v1: Joconde | 1 |
ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: | 13 |
Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) | 14 |
(Three Pages) | 15 |
Author: Jean de La Fontaine
Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5275] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 14, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** Start of the project gutenberg EBOOK tales and novels of Fontaine, V1 ***
This eBook was produced by David Widger widger@cecomet.net
[Note: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author’s ideas before making an entire meal of them. D.W.]
Thetales and novels
of
J. De La Fontaine
Table:
La Fontaine’s life
preface
Joconde
The Cudgelled and Contented Cuckold
The Husband Confessor
The Cobbler
The Peasant and His Angry Lord
The Muleteer
The Servant Girl Justified
The Three Gossips’ Wager
The Old Man’s Calendar
The Avaricious Wife and Tricking Gallant
The Jealous Husband
The Gascon Punished
The Princess Betrothed to the King of Garba
The Magick Cup
The Falcon
The Little Dog
The Eel Pie
The Magnificent
The Ephesian Matron
Belphegor
The Little Bell
The Glutton
The Two Friends
The Country Justice
Alice Sick
The Kiss Returned
Sister Jane
An Imitation of Anacreon
Another Imitation of Anacreon
preface (To The Second Book)
Friar Philip’s Geese
Richard Minutolo
The Monks of Catalonia
The Cradle
St. Julian’s Prayer
The Countryman Who Sought His Calf
Hans Carvel’s Ring
The Hermit
The Convent Gardener of Lamporechio
The Mandrake
The Rhemese
The Amorous Courtesan
Nicaise
The Progress of Wit
The Sick Abbess
The Truckers
The Case of Conscience
The Devil of Pope-fig Island
Feronde
The Psalter
King Candaules and the Doctor of Laws
The Devil in Hell
Neighbour Peter’s Mare
The Spectacles
The Bucking Tub
The Impossible Thing
The Picture
The Pack-Saddle
The Ear-maker, and the Mould-mender
The River Scamander
The Confidant Without Knowing It, or the
Stratagem
The Clyster
The Indiscreet Confession
The Contract
The Quid Pro Quo, or the Mistakes
The Dress-maker
The Gascon
The Pitcher
To Promise is One Thing, to Keep It, Another
The Nightingale
Epitaph of La Fontaine
Lifeof
Jean de La
Fontaine
Jean de La Fontaine was born on the 8th of July, 1621, at Chateau-Thierry, and his family held a respectable position there.
His education was neglected, but he had received that genius which makes amends for all. While still young the tedium of society led him into retirement, from which a taste for independence afterwards withdrew him.
He had reached the age of twenty-two, when a few sounds from the lyre of Malherbe, heard by accident, awoke in him the muse which slept.
He soon became acquainted with the best models: Pheedrus, Virgil, Horace and Terence amongst the Latins; Plutarch, Homer and Plato, amongst the Greeks; Rabelais, Marot and d’Urfe, amongst the French; Tasso, Ariosto and Boccaccio, amongst the Italians.
He married, in compliance with the wishes of his family, a beautiful, witty and chaste woman, who drove him to despair.
He was sought after and cherished by all distinguished men of letters. But it was two Ladies who kept him from experiencing the pangs of poverty.
La Fontaine, if there remain anything of thee, and if it be permitted to thee for a moment to soar above all time; see the names of La Sabliere and of Hervard pass with thine to the ages to come!
The life of La Fontaine was, so to speak, only one of continual distraction. In the midst of society, he was absent from it. Regarded almost as an imbecile by the crowd, this clever author, this amiable man, only permitted himself to be seen at intervals and by friends.
He had few books and few friends.
Amongst a large number of works that he has left, everyone knows his fables and his tales, and the circumstances of his life are written in a hundred places.
He died on the 16th of March, 1695.
Let us keep silence about his last moments, for fear of irritating those who never forgive.
His fellow-citizens honour him in his posterity to this day.
Long after his death, foreigners went to visit the room which he had occupied.
Once a year, I shall go to visit his tomb.
On that day, I shall tear up a fable of La Mothe, a tale of Vergier, or several of the best pages of Grecourt.
He was buried in the cemetery of Saint-Joseph, by the side of Moliere.
That spot will always be held sacred by poets and people of taste.
Theauthor’s preface
To the first volume of these tales
I had resolved not to consent to the printing of these Tales, until after I had joined to them those of Boccaccio, which are those most to my taste; but several persons have advised me to produce at once what I have remaining of these trifles, in order to prevent from cooling the curiosity to see them, which is still in its first ardour. I gave way to this advice without much difficulty, and I have thought well to profit by the occasion. Not only is that permitted me, but it would be vanity on my part to despise such an advantage. It has sufficed me to wish that no one should be
Talesand novels
of
J. De La Fontaine
.......
Joconde
In Lombardy’s fair land, in days of yore,
Once dwelt a prince, of youthful charms, a store;
Each fair, with anxious look, his favours sought,
And ev’ry heart within his net was caught.
Quite proud of beauteous form and smart address,
In which the world was led to acquiesce,
He cried one day, while all attention paid,
I’ll bet a million, Nature never made
Beneath the sun, another man like me,
Whose symmetry with mine can well agree.
If such exist, and here will come, I swear
I’ll show him ev’ry lib’ral princely care.
A
noble Roman, who the challenge heard,
This
answer gave the king his soul preferr’d
—Great
prince, if you would see a handsome man,
To
have my brother here should be your plan;
A
frame more perfect Nature never gave;
But
this to prove, your courtly dames I crave;
May
judge the fact, when I’m convinc’d they’ll
find:
Like
you, the youth will please all womankind;
And
since so many sweets at once may cloy,
’Twere
well to have a partner in your joy.
Theking, surpris’d, expressed a wish to view
This
brother, form’d by lines so very true;
We’ll
see, said he, if here his charms divine
Attract
the heart of ev’ry nymph, like mine;
And
should success attend our am’rous lord,
To
you, my friend, full credit we’ll accord.
Awaythe Roman flew, Joconde to get,
(So
nam’d was he in whom these features met;)
’Midst
woods and lawns, retir’d from city strife,
And
lately wedded to a beauteous wife;
If
bless’d, I know not; but with such a fair,
On
him must rest the folly to despair.
TheRoman courtier came, his business told
The
brilliant offers from the monarch bold;
His
mission had success, but still the youth
Distraction
felt, which ’gan to shake his truth;
A
pow’rful monarch’s favour there he view’d;
A
partner here, with melting tears bedew’d;
And
while he wavered on the painful choice,
She
thus address’d her spouse with plaintive voice:
Canyou, Joconde, so truly cruel prove,
To
quit my fervent love in courts to move?
The
promises of kings are airy dreams,
And
scarcely last beyond the day’s extremes
By
watchful, anxious care alone retain’d,
And
lost, through mere caprice, as soon as gain’d.
If
weary of my charms, alas! you feel,
Still
think, my love, what joys these woods conceal;
Here
dwell around tranquillity and ease;
The
streams’ soft murmurs, and the balmy breeze,
Invite
to sleep; these vales where breathe the doves,
All,
all, my dear Joconde, renew our loves;
You
laugh!—Ah! cruel, go, expose thy charms,
Grim
death will quickly spare me these alarms!
JOCONDE’S
reply our records ne’er relate,
Nor
what he did, nor how he left his mate;
And
since contemp’raries decline the task;
’Twere
folly, such details of me to ask.
We’re
told, howe’er, when ready to depart,
With
flowing tears she press’d him to her heart;
Tosee such dire distress, and poignant grief,
Might
lead to think, soon death would bring relief;
But
I, who know full well the female mind,
At
best oft doubt affliction of the kind.
Jocondeset out at length; but that same morn;
As
on he mov’d, his soul with anguish torn,
He
found the picture he had quite forgot,
Then
turn’d his steed, and back began to trot.
While
musing what excuse to make his mate,
At
home he soon arriv’d, and op’d the gate;
Alighted
unobserv’d, ran up the stairs;
And
ent’ring to the lady unawares,
He
found this darling rib, so full of charms;
Intwin’d
within a valet’s brawny arms!
’Midstfirst emotions of the husband’s ire;
To
stab them while asleep he felt desire;
Howe’er,
he nothing did; the courteous wight;
In
this dilemma, clearly acted right;
The
less of such misfortunes said is best;
’Twere
well the soul of feeling to divest;
Their
lives, through pity, or prudential care;
With
much reluctance, he was led to spare;
Asleep
he left the pair, for if awake,
In
honour, he a diff’rent step would take.—
Had
any smart gallant supplied my place,
Said
he, I might put up with this disgrace;
But
naught consoles the thought of such a beast;
Dan
Cupid wantons, or is blind at least;
A
bet, or some such whim, induc’d the god,
To
give his sanction to amours so odd.
Thisperfidy Joconde so much dismay’d;
His
spirits droop’d, his lilies ’gan to fade;
No
more he look’d the charmer he had been;
And
when the court’s gay dames his face had seen;
They
cried, Is this the beauty, we were told,
Would
captivate each heart, or young or old?
Why,
he’s the jaundice; ev’ry view displays
The
mien of one,—just fasted forty days!
Withsecret pleasure, this, Astolphus learn’d;
The
Roman, for his brother, risks discern’d,
Whose
secret griefs were carefully conceal’d,
(And
these Joconde could never wish reveal’d;)
Yet,
spite of gloomy looks and hollow eyes,
His
graceful features pierc’d the wan disguise,
Which
fail’d to please, alone through want of life,
Destroy’d
by thinking on a guilty wife.
Thegod of love, in pity to our swain,
At
last revok’d Black CARE’S corroding
reign;
For,
doubtless, in his views he oft was cross’d,
While
such a lover to the world was lost.
Thehero of our tale, at length, we find
Was
well rewarded: Love again proved kind;
For,
musing as he walk’d alone one day,
And
pass’d a gall’ry, (held a secret way,)
A
voice in plaintive accents caught his ear,
And
from the neighb’ring closet came, ’twas
clear:
My
dear Curtade, my only hope below,
In
vain I love;—you colder, colder grow;
While
round no fair can boast so fine a face,
And
numbers wish they might supply thy place,
Whilst
thou with some gay page prefer’st a bet,
Or
game of dice with some low, vulgar set,
To
meeting me alone; and when just now
To
thee I sent, with rage thou knit’st thy brow,
And
Dorimene, with ev’ry curse abus’d
Then
played again, since better that amus’d,
And
left me here, as if not worth a thought,
Or
thou didst scorn what I so fondly sought.
Astonishment,
at once, our Roman seiz’d;
But
who’s the fair that thus her bosom eas’d?
Or,
who’s the gay Adonis, form’d to bless?
You’d
try a day, and not the secret guess,
The
queen’s the belle:—and, doubtless
you will stare,
The
king’s own dwarf the idol of her care!
TheRoman saw a crevice in the wood,
Through
which he took a peep from where he stood;
To
Dorimene our lovers left the key,
Which
she had dropt when lately forc’d to flee,
And
this Joconde pick’d up, a lucky hit,
Since
he could use it when he best thought fit.
It
seems, said he, I’m not alone in name,
And
since a prince so handsome is the same,
Although
a valet has supplied my place,
Yet
see, the queen prefers a dwarf’s embrace.
Thisthought consol’d so well,—his youthful
rays
Returned,
and e’en excelled his former days;
And
those who lately ridicul’d his charms,
Now
anxious seem’d to revel in his arms
’Twas
who could have him,—even prudes grew kind;—
By
many belles Astolphus was resign’d;
Though
still the king retain’d enough, ’twas seen;—
But
now let us resume the dwarf and queen.
OurRoman, having satisfied his eyes,
At
length withdrew, confounded by surprise.
Who
follows courts, must oft with care conceal,
And
scarcely know what sight and ears reveal.
Yet,
by Joconde the king was lov’d so well,
What
now he’d seen he greatly wish’d to tell;
But,
since to princes full respect is due,
And
what concerns them, howsoever true,
If
To
wait upon a prince of royal birth,
Was
forced t’acknowledge cuckoldom among
The
gods who rule the matrimonial throng,
And
sacrifice thereto with aching heart
Cornuted
heads dire torments oft impart:
Thetale he then detail’d, that rais’d his
spleen;
And
what within the closet he had seen;
The
king replied, I will not be so rude,
To
question what so clearly you have view’d;
Yet,
since ’twere better full belief to gain,
A
glimpse of such a fact I should obtain,
Pray
bring me thither; instantly our wight;
Astolphus
led, where both his ears and sight
Full
proof receiv’d, which struck the prince with
awe;
Who
stood amaz’d at what he heard and saw.
But
soon reflection’s all-convincing pow’r
Induced
the king vexation to devour;
True
courtier-like, who dire misfortunes braves,
Feels
sprouting horns, yet smiles at fools and knaves:
Our
wives, said he, a pretty trick have play’d,
And
shamefully the marriage bed betray’d;
Let
us the compliment return, my friend,
And
round the country our amours extend;
But,
in our plan the better to succeed,
Our
names we’ll change; no servants we shall need;—
For
your relation I desire to pass,
So
you’ll true freedom use; then with a lass
We
more at ease shall feel, more pleasure gain;
Than
if attended by my usual train.
Jocondewith joy the king’s proposal heard;
On
which the latter with his friend conferr’d;
Said
he, ’twere surely right to have a book,
In
which to place the names of those we hook,
The
whole arrang’d according to their rank,
And
I’ll engage no page remains a blank,
But
ere we leave the range of our design,
E’en
scrup’lous dames shall to our wish incline,
Our
persons handsome, with engaging air,
And
sprightly, brilliant wit no trifling share,—
’Twere
strange, possessing such engaging charms,
They
should not tumble freely in our arms.
The, baggage ready, and the paper-book, our smart gallants the road together took, But ’twould be vain to number their amours; With beauties, Cupid favoured them by scores; Blessed, if only seen by either swain, And doubly bless’d who could attention gain: Nor wife of alderman, nor wife of mayor, Of justice, nor of governor was there, Who did not anxiously desire her name Might straight be entered in the book of fame! Hearts, which before were thought as cold as ice, Now warm’d at once and melted in a trice.
Someinfidel, I fancy, in my ear
Would
whisper-probabilities, I fear,
Are
rather wanting to support the fact;
However
perfectly gallants may act,
To
gain a heart requires full many a day
If
more be requisite I cannot say;
’Tis
not my plan to dupe or young or old,
But
such to me, howe’er the tale is told,
And
Ariosto never truth forsakes;
Yet,
if at ev’ry step a writer takes,
He’s
closely question’d as to time and place,
He
ne’er can end his work with easy grace.
To
those, from whom just credence I receive,
Their
tales I promise fully to believe.
Atlength, when our advent’rers round had play’d,
And
danc’d with ev’ry widow, wife, and maid,
The
full blown lily and the tender rose,
Astolphus
said, though clearly I suppose,
We
can as many hearts securely link,
As
e’er we like, yet better now, I think,
To
stop a while in some delightful spot,
And
that before satiety we’ve got;
For
true it is, with love as with our meat;
If
we, variety of dishes eat,
The
doctors tell us inj’ry will ensue,
And
too much raking none can well pursue.
Let
us some pleasing fair-one then engage,
To
serve us both:—enough she’ll prove
I’ll wage.
Jocondeat once replied, with all my heart,
And
I a lady know who’ll take the part;
She’s
beautiful; possesses store of wit;
And
is the wife of one above a cit.
Withsuch to meddle would be indiscreet,
Replied
the king, more charms we often meet,
Beneath
a chambermaid or laundress’ dress,
Than
any rich coquette can well possess.
Besides,
with those, less form is oft requir’d,
While
dames of quality must be admir’d;
Their
whims complied with, though suspicions rise;
And
ev’ry hour produces fresh surprise,
But
this sweet charmer of inferior birth
A
treasure proves; a source of bliss on earth.
No
trouble she to carry here nor there;
No
balls she visits, and requires no care;
The
conquest easy, we may talk or not;
The
only difficulty we have got,
Is
how to find one, we may faithful view;
So
let us choose a girl, to love quite new.
Sincethese, replied the youth, your thoughts appear,
What
think you of our landlord’s daughter here?
That
she’s a perfect virgin I’ve no doubt,
Nor
can we find a chaster round about;
Her
very doll more innocent won’t prove,
Than
this sweet nymph design’d with us to move.
Thescheme our prince’s approbation met;
The
very girl, said he, I wish’d to get;
This
night be our attack; and if her heart
Surrenders
when our wishes we impart,
But
one perplexity will then remain;
’Tis
who her virgin favours shall obtain?
The
honour ’s all a whim, and I, as king,
At
once assuredly should claim this thing:
The
rest ’tis very easy to arrange;
As
matters suit we presently can change.
Ifceremony ’twere, Joconde replied,
All
cavil then we quickly could decide;
Precedence
would no doubt with you remain:
But
this is quite another case ’tis plain;
And
equity demands that we agree,
By
lot to settle which the man shall be.
Thenoble youths no arguments would spare,
And
each contended for the spoiler’s care;
Howe’er
Joconde obtained the lucky hit,
And
first embrac’d this fancied dainty bit.
Thegirl who was the noble rival’s aim,
That
ev’ning to the room for something came;
Our
heroes gave her instantly a chair,
And
lavished praises on her face and hair;
A
diamond ring soon sparkled in her eyes;
Its
pleasing pow’rs at sight obtain’d the prize.
Thebargain made, she, in the dead of night,
When
silence reign’d and all was void of light,
With
careful steps their anxious wish obey’d,
And
’tween them both, she presently was laid;
’Twas
Paradise they thought, where all is nice,
And
our young spark believ’d he broke the ice.
Thefolly I forgive him;—’tis in vain
On
this to reason—idle to complain;
The
Wise have oft been dup’d it is confest,
And
Solomon it seems among the rest.
But
gay Joconde felt nothing of the kind,
A
secret pleasure glow’d within his mind;
He
thought Astolphus wond’rous bliss had missed,
And
that himself alone the fair had kiss’d;
A
clod howe’er, who liv’d within the place,
Had,
prior to the Roman, her embrace.
Thesoft amour extended through the night,
The
girl was pleas’d, and all proceeded right;
The
foll’wing night, the next, ’twas still
the same;
Young
Clod at length her coldness ’gan to blame;
And
as he felt suspicious of the act,
He
watch’d her steps and verified the fact:
A
quarrel instantly between them rose;
Howe’er
the fair, his anger to compose,
And
favour not to lose, on honour vow’d,
That
when the sparks were gone, and time allow’d,
She
would oblige his craving, fierce desire;—
To
which the village lad replied with ire:—
Pray
what care I for any tavern guest,
Of
either sex; to you I now protest,
If
I be not indulg’d this very night,
I’ll
publish your amours in mere despite.
Howcan we manage it, replied the belle,
I’m
quite distressed—indeed the truth to tell,
I’ve
promis’d them this night to come again,
And
if I fail, no doubt can then remain,
But
I shall lose the ring, their pledg’d reward,
Which
would, you know for me, be very hard.
Toyou I wish the ring, replied young Clod,
But
do they sleep in bed, or only nod?
Tell
me, pray; oh, said she, they sleep most sound;
But
then between them plac’d shall I be found,
And
while the one amidst Love’s frolicks sports,
The
other quiet lies, or Morpheus courts.
On
hearing this the rustick lad proposed,
To
visit her when others’ eyes were closed.
Oh!
never risk it, quickly she replied;
’Twere
folly to attempt it by their side.
He
answer’d, never fear, but only leave
The
door ajar, and me they’ll not perceive.
Thedoor she left exactly as he said;
The
spark arriv’d, and then approach’d the
bed,
(’Twas
near the foot,) then ’tween the sheets he slid,
But
God knows how he lay, or what he did.
Astolphus
and Joconde ne’er smelt a rat,
Nor
ever dreamt of what their girl was at,
At
length when each had turn’d and op’d his
eyes,
Continual
movement fill’d him with surprise.
The
monarch softly said:—why how is this?
My
friend has eaten something, for in bliss,
He
revels on, and truly much I fear,
His
health will show, it may be bought too dear.
Thisvery sentiment Joconde bethought;
But
Clod a breathing moment having caught,
Resum’d
his fun, and that so oft would seek:
He
gratified his wishes for a week;
Then
watching carefully, he found once more;
Atlength when both the nobles were awake;
Astolphus
said, my friend you rest should take,
’Twere
better till to-morrow keep in bed,
Since
sleep, with such fatigues, of course has fled:
You
talk at random, cried the Roman youth;
More
rest I fancy you require in truth;
You’ve
led a pretty life throughout the night;
I?
said the king; why I was weary quite,
So
long I waited; you no respite gave,
But
wholly seem’d our little nymph t’ enslave;
At
length to try if I from rage could keep,
I
turn’d my back once more, and went to sleep.
If
you had willingly the belle resign’d,
I
was, my friend, to take a turn inclin’d;
That
had sufficed for me, since I, like you,
Perpetual
motion never can pursue.
Yourraillery, the Roman youth replied,
Quite
disconcerted, pray now lay aside,
And
talk of something else; you’ve fully shown,
That
I’m your vassal, and since you are grown
So
fond that you to keep the girl desire,
E’en
wholly to yourself, why I’ll retire;
Do
with her what you please, and we shall see,
How
long this furor will with you agree.
Itmay, replied the king, for ever last,
If
ev’ry night like this, I’m doom’d
to fast.
Sire,
said Joconde, no longer let us thus,
In
terms of playful raillery discuss;
Since
such your pleasure, send me from your view;
On
this the youthful monarch angry grew,
And
many words between the friends arose;
The
presence of the nymph Astolphus chose;
To
her they said, between us judge, sweet fair,
And
every thing was stated then with care.
Thegirl with blushing cheeks before them kneel’d,
And
the mysterious tale at once reveal’d.
Our
heroes laugh’d; the treach’ry vile excus’d;
And
gave the ring, which much delight diffus’d;
Together
with a handsome sum of gold,
Which
soon a husband in her train enroll’d,
Who,
for a maid, the pretty fair-one took;
And
then our heroes wand’ring pranks forsook,
With
laurels cover’d, which in future times,
Will
make them famous through the Western climes;
More
glorious since, they only cost, we find,
Those
sweet attentions pleasing to the mind.
So
many conquests proud of having made,
And
over full the book of—those who’d
play’d;
Said
gay Astolphus we will now, my friend,
Return
the shortest road and poaching end;
If
false our mates, yet we’ll console ourselves,
That
many others have inconstant elves.
Perhaps,
in things a change will be one day,
And
only tender flames love’s torch display;
But
now it seems some evil star presides,
And
Hymen’s flock the devil surely rides.
Besides,
vile fiends the universe pervade,
Whose
constant aim is mortals to degrade,
And
cheat us to our noses if they can,
(Hell’s
imps in human shape, disgrace to man!)
Perhaps
these wretches have bewitch’d our wives,
And
made us fancy errors in their lives.
Then
let us like good citizens, our days
In
future pass amidst domestick ways;
Our
absence may indeed restore their hearts,
For
jealousy oft virtuous truths imparts.
Inthis Astolphus certainly believ’d;
The
friends return’d, and kindly were receiv’d;
A
little scolding first assail’d the ear;
But
blissful kisses banish’d ev’ry fear.
To
balls and banquets all themselves resigned;
Of
dwarf or valet nothing more we find;
Each
with his wife contentedly remained:—
’Tis
thus alone true happiness is gained.
Criticism never stops short nor ever wants for subjects
In the midst of society, he was absent from it
Regarded almost as an imbecile by the crowd
The less of such misfortunes said is best
The promises of kings are airy dreams
Who only make friends in order to gain voices in their
favour
Who would wish to reduce Boccaccio to the same modesty
as Virgil
Wife beautiful, witty and chaste woman, who drove
him to despair
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