Do jaws and fingers cease their greedy play. These two men were the Gemini he'd praised. They thanked him for the homage he had paid; Then, for reward, told him the while he stayed The doom'd house would be rased, And fall about the ears Of the big boxer and his peers. The prophecy came true--yes, every tittle; Snap goes a pillar, thin and brittle. The roof comes toppling down, and crashes The feast--the cups, the flagons smashes. Cupbearers are included in the fall; Nor is that all: To make the vengeance for the bard complete, The athlete's legs are broken too. A beam snapped underneath his feet, While half the guests exclaim, "Lord help us! we are lame." Fame, with her trumpet, heralds the affair; Men cry, "A miracle!" and everywhere They give twice over, without scoff or sneer, To poet by the gods held dear. No one of gentle birth but paid him well, Of their ancestors' deeds to nobly tell. Let me return unto my text: it pays The gods and kings to freely praise; Melpomene, moreover, sometimes traffic makes Of the ingenious trouble that she takes. Our art deserves respect, and thus The great do honour to themselves who honour us. Olympus and Parnassus once, you see, Were friends, and liked each other's company. FABLE XVI. DEATH AND THE UNHAPPY MAN. A Miserable Man incessant prayed To Death for aid. "Oh, Death!" he cried. "I love thee as a friend! Come quickly, and my life's long sorrows end!" Death, wishing to oblige him, ran, Knocked at the door, entered, and eyed the man. "What do I see? begone, thou hideous thing! The very sight Strikes me with horror and affright! Begone, old Death!--Away, thou grisly King!" Mecænas (hearty fellow) somewhere said; "Let me be gouty, crippled, impotent and lame, 'Tis all the same. So I but keep on living. Death, thou slave! Come not at all, and I shall be content." And that was what the man I mention meant. [Illustration: THE WOLF TURNED SHEPHERD.] FABLE XVII. THE WOLF TURNED SHEPHERD. A Wolf who found in cautious flocks His tithes beginning to be few, Thought that he'd play the part of Fox, A character at least quite new. A Shepherd's hat and coat he took, And from a branch he made a hook; Nor did the pastoral pipe forget. To carry out his schemes he set, He would have liked to write upon his hat, "I'm Guillot, Shepherd of these sheep!"