Pass on. Content and free I dwell Within these woods, and flatly say, I scorn mankind, and here shall stay." The Prince the Wolf accosted then, And, lest refusal came again, Said, "Comrade, I'm in deep distress, For there's a lovely shepherdess Who echo wearies out with cries Against your wolfish gluttonies. In former days your task had been Her sheep from every wolf to screen: You led an honest life. Oh, come, And once more manhood's form resume." "No, no," replied the Wolf; "I'll stay: A ravenous wolf you call me. Pray, If I the sheep had eaten not, Would they have 'scaped your spit and pot? If I were man, should I be less A foe unto the shepherdess? For just a word, or slight mistake, You men each other's heads will break; And are you not, then, wolfish, too? I've weighed the case, and hold it true That wolves are better far than man: I'll be a Wolf, then, whilst I can." To all, in turn, Ulysses went, And used this selfsame argument. But all, both great and small, refused To be of beast-life disabused. To range the woods, to feed and love, To them seemed all things else above. "Let others reap the praise," they cried, "Of noble deeds: we're satisfied." And so, fast bound in Pleasure's chains, They thought that free they roamed the plains. O Prince! I much had wished to choose A tale which might teach and amuse. The scheme itself was not so bad; But where could such a tale be had? I pondered long: at length the fate Of Circe's victims struck my pate. Such victims in this world below Were always, and are even now: To punish them I will not strike, But hold them up to your dislike. FABLE CCXI. THE FARMER, THE DOG, AND THE FOX.