Wounded and weak, and dripping fast with blood, A Fox crept wearily through mire and mud. Quickly attracted by the hopeful sight, A Fly--a restless, winged parasite-- Came to show sympathy--and bite. The Fox accused the gods on high, Thought Fate had vexed him cruelly. "Why attack me?--am I a treat? When were the Foxes thought good meat? I, the most nimble, clever beast, Am I to be for flies a feast? Now Heaven confound the paltry thing So small, yet with so sharp a sting!" A Hedgehog, hearing all his curses (His first appearance in my verses), Wished to set the poor beast free Of the Flies' importunity. "My neighbour," said the worthy soul, "I'll use my darts, and slay the whole." "For Heaven's sake!" poor Reynard says, "Don't do it! Let them go their ways. These animals are full, you see: New ones will bite more greedily." Such torments in this land are seen,-- Courtiers and magistrates, I mean. Great Aristotle likens flies To certain men; and he was wise. But when such folk get full of gold, They're less importunate, I'm told. FABLE CCXXVIII. THE HAWK, THE KING, AND THE FALCON. TO MONSEIGNEUR THE PRINCE DE CONTI. As the gods are forgiving, they wish that the lords Whom they send to rule over us creatures below, Should control the proud use of their conquering swords, And to subjects the mercies of charity show. O Prince! 'tis well known that you think in this way That you conquer your foes, but still pause ere you slay; And in this, for you're one who no passions subdue, Achilles, as hero, was far beneath you. This title of hero, in fact, should belong But to those who do good. This was always the case In the ages of gold; but now absence from wrong Of a very grave character gives men the place. So far are you, Prince, from deserving this stain, That for half your good actions you merit a fane. Apollo, the poet, who dwells in the skies, Sings already the praise of your name, 'tis believed; Fast in heaven the walls of your mansion arise, For of glory enough on the earth you've received. May the sweetest of charms that god Hymen can give, For you and the Princess, eternally live: For you fully deserve it; in token of this I will point to your gifts, both of riches and bliss. To those qualities wondrous, which, owned but by few, To grace your young years, Jove has lavished on you. Your spirit, O Prince! with such grace is combined, That which most to prize a sweet puzzle we find; For, sometimes, esteem takes our homage by force, And then love leaps in with impetuous course. But to sing all your praises and merits were long; So changing my key, in a far humbler song I'll tell you a tale, how a fierce bird of prey Assaulted a king, and got safely away.