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Tales and Novels of J. de La Fontaine — Volume 14 by La Fontaine, Jean de, 1621-1695
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A word from our supporters: File extension PRN | This eBook was produced by David Widger [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.] OF J. DE LA FONTAINE The Countryman Who Sought His Calf Hans Carvel's Ring The Hermit The Convent Gardener of Lamporechio THE COUNTRYMAN WHO SOUGHT HIS CALFAnd, seeking it, a neighbouring forest crossed; The tallest tree that in the district grew, He climbed to get a more extensive view. Just then a lady with her lover came; The place was pleasing, both to spark and dame; Their mutual wishes, looks and eyes expressed, And on the grass the lady was caressed. At sights of charms, enchanting to the eyes, The gay gallant exclaimed, with fond surprise:-- Ye gods, what striking beauties now I see! No objects named; but spoke with anxious glee. The clod, who, on the tree had mounted high, And heard at ease the conversation nigh, Now cried:--Good man! who see with such delight; Pray tell me if my calf be in your sight? HANS CARVEL'S RINGA girl, with youth and beauteous charms to wife; And with her, num'rous troubles, cares and fears; For, scarcely one without the rest appears. Bab (such her name, and daughter of a knight) Was airy, buxom: formed for am'rous fight. Hans, holding jeers and cuckoldom in dread, Would have his precious rib with caution tread, And nothing but the Bible e'er peruse; All other books he daily would abuse; Blamed secret visits; frowned at loose attire; And censured ev'ry thing gallants admire. The dame, howe'er, was deaf to all he said; No preaching pleased but what to pleasure led, Which made the aged husband hold his tongue. And wish for death, since all round went wrong. Some easy moments he perhaps might get; A full detail in hist'ry's page is met. One night, when company he'd had to dine, And pretty well was fill'd with gen'rous wine, Hans dreamed, as near his wife he snoring lay, The devil came his compliments to pay, And having on his finger put a ring, Said he, friend Hans, I know thou feel'st a sting; Thy trouble 's great: I pity much thy case; Let but this ring, howe'er, thy finger grace, And while 'tis there I'll answer with my head, THAT ne'er shall happen which is now thy dread: Hans, quite delighted, forced his finger through; You drunken beast, cried Bab, what would you do? To love's devoirs quite lost, you take no care, And now have thrust your finger God knows where! THE HERMITOft pranks are played that show a deep design; Men are but men, and friars full as weak: I'm not by Envy moved these truths to speak. Have you a sister, daughter, pretty wife? Beware the monks as you would guard your life; If in their snares a simple belle be caught: The trap succeeds: to ruin she is brought. To show that monks are knaves in Virtue's mask; Pray read my tale:--no other proof I ask. |