“Thou art almost like unto the gods,” says he. The reasons which he gives for this apotheosis are none of the best. They consist of these three privileges: γηγενής, απαθής, ὰναιμόσαρκε; earthborn, insensible to pain, bloodless. Let us not start reproaching the poet for these blunders, which were generally believed at the time and perpetuated for very long after, until the observer’s searching eyes were opened. Besides, it does not do to look so closely at verses whose chief merit lies in harmony and rhythm. Even in our own days, the Provençal poets, who are at least as familiar with the Cicada as Anacreon was, are not so very careful of the truth in celebrating the insect which they take as an emblem. One of my friends, a fervent observer and a scrupulous realist, escapes this reproach. He has authorized me to take from his unpublished verse the following Provençal ballad, which depicts the relations between the Cicada and the Ant with strictly scientific accuracy. I leave to him the responsibility for his poetic images and his moral views, delicate flowers outside my province as a naturalist; but I can vouch for the truth of his story, which tallies with what I see every summer on the lilac-trees in my garden. LA CIGALO E LA FOURNIGO I Jour de Dièu, queto caud! Bèu tèms pèr la cigalo Que, trefoulido, se regalo D’uno raisso de fiò; bèu tèms pèr la meissoun. Dins lis erso d’or, lou segaire, Ren plega, pitre au vent, rustico e canto gaire: Dins soun gousiè, la set estranglo la cansoun. Tèms benesi pèr tu. Dounc, ardit! cigaleto, Fai-lei brusi, ti chimbaleto, E brandusso lou ventre à creba ti mirau. L’Ome enterin mando la daio, Que vai balin-balan de longo e que dardaio L’uiau de soun acié sus li rous espigau. Plèn d’aigo pèr la péiro e tampouna d’erbiho Lou coufié sus l’anco pendiho. Se la péiro es au frès dins soun estui de bos E se de longo es abèurado, L’Ome barbelo au fiò d’aqueli souleiado Que fan bouli de fes la mesoulo dis os. Tu, Cigalo, as un biais pèr la set: dins la rusco Tendro e jutouso d’uno busco, L’aguio de toun bè cabusso e cavo un pous. Lou sirò monto pèr la draio. T’amourres à la fon melicouso que raio, E dòu sourgènt sucra bèves lou teta-dous. Mai pas toujour en pas, oh! que nàni: de laire, Vesin, vesino o barrulaire, T’an vist cava lou pous. An set; vènon, doulènt, Te prène un degout pèr si tasso. Mesfiso-te, ma bello: aqueli curo-biasso, Umble d’abord, soun lèu de gusas insoulènt.