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+The Project Gutenberg Ebook Friar Philip's Geese &c., by La Fontaine
+#11 in our series by Jean de La Fontaine (The Tales and Novels)
+
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+
+
+Title: The Tales and Novels, v11: Friar Philip's Geese and Minutolo
+
+Author: Jean de La Fontaine
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5285]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on June 21, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+
+
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS OF FONTAINE, V11 ***
+
+
+
+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.]
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE TALES AND NOVELS
+ OF
+ J. DE LA FONTAINE
+
+
+
+Contains:
+ Preface to The Second Book
+ Friar Philips Geese
+ Richard Minutolo
+
+
+
+ THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE
+ TO THE SECOND BOOK OF THESE TALES
+
+
+These are the last works of this style that will come from the pen of
+the Author, and consequently this is the last opportunity he has of
+vindicating the boldness and privilege which he has assumed. We make no
+mention of villainous rhymes, of lines that run into the next, of two
+vowels without elision, nor, in general, of such kinds of carelessness
+as he would not allow himself in another style of poetry, but which
+are part and parcel, so to say, of this style. Too anxious a care
+in avoiding such would force a tale-writer into a labyrinth of shifts,
+into narratives as dull as they are grand, into straits that are utterly
+useless, and would make him disregard the pleasure of the heart in order
+to labour for the gratification of the ear. We must leave studied
+narrative for lofty subjects, and not compose an epic poem of the
+Adventures of Renaud d'Ast. Suppose the Author, who has put these tales
+into rhyme, had brought to bear on them all the care and preciseness
+required of him; not only would this care be observed, especially as it
+is unnecessary, but it would also transgress the precept lain down by
+Ouintilian, still the Author would not have attained the main object,
+which is to interest the reader, to charm him, to rivet his attention
+in spite of himself,--in a word, to please him. As everybody knows, the
+secret of pleasing the reader is not always based on regulation, nor even
+on symmetry; there is need of smartness and tastefulness, if we would
+strike home. How many of those perfect types of beauty do we see which
+never strike home, and of which nobody feels enamoured! We do not wish
+to rob Modern Authors of the praise that is due to them. Nicely turned
+lines, fine language, accuracy, elegance of rhyme are accomplishments in
+a poet. However that may be, let us consider of our own epigrams wherein
+all these qualities are combined, perhaps we shall find in them far less
+point, nay, I would venture to add, far less charm than in those of
+Marot or Saint-Gelais, although almost all the works of the latter poets
+are full of the same faults as are attributed to us. We will be told
+that these were not faults in their day, whereas they are very great
+faults in ours. To this we answer by a similar kind of argument, by
+saying, as we have already said, that these would undoubtedly be faults
+in another style of poetry, but not in this. The late M. de Voiture is
+a proof in point. We need only read the works in which he brings to life
+again the character of Marot. For our Author does not lay claim to
+praise for himself, nor to rounds of applause from the public for having
+put a few tales into rhyme. Without doubt he has entered on quite a new
+path, and has pursued it to the utmost of his power, choosing now one
+road, now another, and always treading with surer step when he has
+followed the manner of our old poets "quorum in hae re imitari
+negligentiam exoptat potius quam istorum diligentiam."
+
+But while saying that we wished to waive this question, we have
+unconsciously involved ourselves in its discussion. Perhaps this has not
+been without advantage; for there is nothing that resembles faults more
+than these licenses. Let us now consider the liberty which the Author
+has assumed in cutting into the property of others as well as his own,
+without making exception even to the best known stories, none of which
+he scruples to tamper with. He curtails, enlarges, and alters incidents
+and details, at times the main issue and the sequel; in short, the story
+is no longer the same; it is, in point of fact, quite a new tale; its
+original author would find it no small difficulty to recognise in it his
+own work. "Non sic decet contaminari fabulas," Critics will say. Why
+should they not? They twitted Terence in just the same way; but Terence
+sneered at them, and claimed a right to treat the matter as he did. He
+has mingled his own ideas with the subjects he drew from Menander, just
+as Sophocles and Euripides mingled theirs with the subjects they drew
+from former writers, sparing neither history nor romance, where "decorum"
+and the rules of the Drama were at issue. Shall this privilege cease
+with respect to fictitious stories? Must we in future have more
+scrupulous or religious regard, if we may be allowed the expression,
+for falsehood than the Ancients had for truth? What people call a good
+tale never passes from hand to hand without receiving some fresh touch
+of embellishment. How comes it then, we may be asked, that in many
+passages the Author curtails instead of enlarging on the original?
+On that point we are agreed: the Author does so in order to avoid
+lengthiness and ambiguity,--two faults which are inadmissible in such
+matters, especially the latter. For if lucidity is to be commended in
+all literary works, we may say that it is especially necessary in
+narratives, where one thing is, as a rule, the sequel and the result of
+another; where the less important sometimes lays the basis of the more
+important; so that, once the thread becomes broken, the reader cannot
+gather it up again. Besides, as narratives in verse are very awkward,
+the author must clog himself with details as little as possible; by means
+of this you relieve not only yourself, but also the reader, for whom an
+author should not fail to prepare pleasure unalloyed. Whenever the
+Author has altered a few particulars and even a few catastrophes, he has
+been forced to do so by the cause of that catastrophe and the urgency of
+giving it a happy termination. He has fancied that in tales of this kind
+everyone ought to be satisfied with the end: it pleases the reader at
+any rate, if the author has not given the characters too distasteful
+a rendering. But he must not go so far as that, if possible, nor make
+the reader laugh and cry in the same tale. This medley shocks Horace
+above all things; his wish is not that our works should border on the
+grotesque, and that we should draw a picture half woman half fish. These
+are the general motives the Author has had in view. We might still quote
+special motives and vindicate each point; but we must needs leave
+something to the capacity and leniency of our readers. They will be
+satisfied, then, with the motives we have mentioned. We would have
+stated them more clearly and have set more by them, had the general
+compass of a Preface so allowed.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ FRIAR PHILIP'S GEESE
+
+
+ IF these gay tales give pleasure to the FAIR,
+ The honour's great conferred, I'm well aware;
+ Yet, why suppose the sex my pages shun?
+ Enough, if they condemn where follies run;
+ Laugh in their sleeve at tricks they disapprove,
+ And, false or true, a muscle never move.
+ A playful jest can scarcely give offence:
+ Who knows too much, oft shows a want of sense.
+ From flatt'ry oft more dire effects arise,
+ Enflame the heart and take it by surprise;
+ Ye beauteous belles, beware each sighing swain,
+ Discard his vows:--my book with care retain;
+ Your safety then I'll guarantee at ease.--
+ But why dismiss?--their wishes are to please:
+ And, truly, no necessity appears
+ For solitude:--consider well your years.
+ I HAVE, and feel convinced they do you wrong,
+ Who think no virtue can to such belong;
+ White crows and phoenixes do not abound;
+ But lucky lovers still are sometimes found;
+ And though, as these famed birds, not quite so rare,
+ The numbers are not great that favours share;
+ I own my works a diff'rent sense express,
+ But these are tales:--mere tales in easy dress.
+
+ To beauty's wiles, in ev'ry class, I've bowed;
+ Fawned, flattered, sighed, e'en constancy have vowed
+ What gained? you ask--but little I admit;
+ Howe'er we aim, too oft we fail to hit.
+ My latter days I'll now devote with care,
+ To guard the sex from ev'ry latent snare.
+ Tales I'll detail, and these relate at ease:
+ Narrations clear and neat will always please;
+ Like me, to this attention criticks pay;
+ Then sleep, on either side, from night till day.
+ If awkward, vulgar phrase intervene,
+ Or rhymes imperfect o'er the page be seen,
+ Condemn at will; but stratagems and art,
+ Pass, shut your eyes, who'd heed the idle part?
+ Some mothers, husbands, may perhaps be led,
+ To pull my locks for stories white or red;
+ So matters stand: a fine affair, no doubt,
+ And what I've failed to do--my book makes out.
+
+ THE FAIR my pages safely may pursue,
+ And this apology they'll not refuse.
+ What recompense can I presume to make?
+ A tale I'll give, where female charms partake,
+ And prove resistless whatsoe'er assail:
+ Blessed BEAUTY, NATURE ever should prevail.
+
+ HAD Fate decreed our YOUTH, at early morn,
+ To view the angel features you adorn,
+ The captivating pow'rs AURORA bless,
+ Or airy SPRING bedecked in beauteous dress,
+ And all the azure canopy on high
+ Had vanished like a dream, once you were nigh.
+ And when his eyes at length your charms beheld,
+ His glowing breast with softest passion swelled;
+ Superior lustre beamed at ev'ry view;
+ No pleasures pleased: his soul was fixed on you.
+ Crowns, jewels, palaces, appeared as naught.
+ 'Twas solely beauteous woman now he sought.
+
+ A WOOD, from earliest years, his home had been,
+ And birds the only company he'd seen,
+ Whose notes harmonious often lulled his care,
+ Beguiled his hours, and saved him from despair;
+ Delightful sounds! from nightingale and dove
+ Unknown their tongue, yet indicant of love.
+
+ THIS savage, solitary, rustick school,
+ The father chose his infancy to rule.
+ The mother's recent death induced the sire,
+ To place the son where only beasts retire;
+ And long the forest habitants alone
+ Were all his youthful sight had ever known.
+
+ TWO reasons, good or bad, the father led
+ To fly the world:--all intercourse to dread
+ Since fate had torn his lovely spouse from hence;
+ Misanthropy and fear o'ercame each sense;
+ Of the world grown tired, he hated all around:--
+ Too oft in solitude is sorrow found.
+ His partner's death produced distaste of life,
+ And made him fear to seek another wife.
+ A hermit's gloomy, mossy cell he took,
+ And wished his child might thither solely look.
+
+ AMONG the poor his little wealth he threw,
+ And with his infant son alone withdrew;
+ The forest's dreary wilds concealed his cell;
+ There Philip (such his name) resolved to dwell.
+
+ BY holy motives led, and not chagrin,
+ The hermit never spoke of what he'd seen;
+ But, from the youth's discernment, strove to hide,
+ Whate'er regarded love, and much beside,
+ The softer sex, with all their magick charms,
+ That fill the feeling bosom with alarms.
+ As years advanced, the boy with care he taught;
+ What suited best his age before him brought;
+ At five he showed him animals and flow'rs,
+ The birds of air, the beasts, their sev'ral pow'rs;
+ And now and then of hell he gave a hint,
+ Old Satan's wrath, and what might awe imprint,
+ How formed, and doomed to infamy below;
+ In childhood FEAR 's the lesson first we know!
+
+ THE years had passed away, when Philip tried,
+ In matters more profound his son to guide;
+ He spoke of Paradise and Heav'n above;
+ But not a word of woman,--nor of LOVE.
+ Fifteen arrived, the sire with anxious care,
+ Of NATURE'S works declaimed,--but not the FAIR:
+ An age, when those, for solitude designed,
+ Should be to scenes of seriousness confined,
+ Nor joys of youth, nor soft ideas praised
+ The flame soon spreads when Cupid's torch is raised.
+
+ AT length, when twenty summers time had run,
+ The father to the city brought his son;
+ With years weighed down, the hermit scarcely knew
+ His daily course of duty to pursue;
+ And when Death's venomed shaft should on him fall;
+ On whom could then his boy for succour call?
+ How life support, unknowing and unknown?
+ Wolves, foxes, bears, ne'er charity have shown;
+ And all the sire could give his darling care,
+ A staff and wallet, he was well aware
+ Fine patrimony, truly, for a child!
+ To which his mind was no way reconciled.
+ Bread few, 'twas clear, the hermit would deny,
+ And rich he might have been you may rely;
+ When he drew near, the children quickly cried
+ Here's father Philip--haste, the alms provide;
+ And many pious men his friends were found,
+ But not one female devotee around:
+ None would he hear; the FAIR he always fled
+ Their smiles and wiles the friar kept in dread.
+
+ OUR hermit, when he thought his darling youth;
+ Well fixed in duty and religious truth,
+ Conveyed him 'mong his pious friends, to learn
+ How food to beg, and other ways discern.
+ In tears he viewed his son the forest quit,
+ And fain would have him for the world unfit.
+
+ THE city's palaces and lofty spires,
+ Our rustick's bosom filled with new desires.
+ The prince's residence great splendour showed,
+ And lively pleasure on the youth bestowed.
+ What's here? said he; The court, his friends replied:--
+ What there?--The mansions where the great reside:--
+ And these?--Fine statues, noble works of art:
+ All gave delight and gratitude his heart.
+ But when the beauteous FAIR first caught his view,
+ To ev'ry other sight he bade adieu;
+ The palace, court, or mansions he admired,
+ No longer proved the objects he desired;
+ Another cause of admiration rose,
+ His breast pervaded, and disturbed repose.
+ What's this, he cried, so elegantly neat?
+ O tell me, father; make my joy complete!
+
+ WHAT gave the son such exquisite delight,
+ The parent filled with agonizing fright.
+ To answer, howsoe'er he'd no excuse,
+ So told the youth--a bird they call a goose.
+
+ O BEAUTEOUS bird, exclaimed th' enraptured boy,
+ Sing, sound thy voice, 'twill fill my soul with joy;
+ To thee I'd anxiously be better known;
+ O father, let me have one for my own!
+ A thousand times I fondly ask the boon;
+ Let's take it to the woods: 'tis not too soon;
+ Young as it is, I'll feed it morn and night,
+ And always make it my supreme delight.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ RICHARD MINUTOLO
+
+
+ IN ev'ry age, at Naples, we are told,
+ Intrigue and gallantry reign uncontrolled;
+ With beauteous objects in abundance blessed.
+ No country round so many has possessed;
+ Such fascinating charms the FAIR disclose,
+ That irresistibly soft passion flows.
+
+ 'MONG these a belle, enchanting to behold,
+ Was loved by one, of birth and store of gold;
+ Minutolo (and Richard) was his name,
+ In Cupid's train a youth of brilliant fame:
+ 'Tween Rome and Paris none was more gallant,
+ And num'rous hearts were for him known to pant.
+
+ CATELLA (thus was called our lady fair,)
+ So long, howe'er, resisted Richard's snare,
+ That prayers, and vows, and promises were vain;
+ A favour Minutolo could not gain.
+ At length, our hero weary, coldness showed,
+ And dropt attendance, since no kindness flowed;
+ Pretended to be cured:--another sought,
+ And feigned her charms his tender heart had caught:
+ Catella laughed, but jealousy was nigh;
+ 'Twas for her friend that now He heaved the sigh.
+
+ THESE dames together met, and Richard too,
+ The gay gallant a glowing picture drew,
+ Of certain husbands, lovers, prudes, and wives;
+ Who led in secret most lascivious lives.
+ Though none he named, Catella was amazed;
+ His hints suspicions of her husband raised;
+ And such her agitation and affright,
+ That, anxious to procure more certain light,
+ In haste she took Minutolo aside,
+ And begged the names he would not from her hide,
+ With all particulars, from first to last:--
+ Her ardent wish to know whate'er had passed.
+
+ SO long your reign, said Richard, o'er my mind,
+ Deny I could not, howsoe'er inclined;
+ With Mrs. Simon often is your spouse;
+ Her character no doubt your spleen will rouse;
+ I've no design, observe to give offence,
+ But, when I see your int'rest in suspense,
+ I cannot silent keep; though, were I still
+ A slave, devoted wholly to your will,
+ As late I moved, I would not drop a word
+ Mistrust of lovers may not be absurd;
+ Besides, you'd fancy other motives led
+ To tell you of your husband what was said;
+ But heav'n be praised, of you I nothing want;
+ My object's plain--no more the fond gallant.
+
+ I'VE lately certain information had,
+ Your spouse (I scarcely thought the man so bad,)
+ Has with the lady an appointment made;
+ At Jack's nice bagnio he will meet the jade.
+
+ NOW clearly Jack's not rich, and there's no doubt;
+ A hundred ducats give, and--ALL will out;
+ Let him but have a handsome sum in view,
+ And any thing you wish, be sure he'll do;
+ You then can manage ev'ry way so well,
+ That, at the place assigned to meet his belle,
+ You'll take this truant husband by surprise;--
+ Permit me in this nice affair to advise.
+
+ THE lady has agreed, you will remark,
+ That in a room where ev'ry part is dark,
+ (Perhaps to 'scape the keeper's prying sight,
+ Or shame directs exclusion of the light,)
+ She will receive your gay inconstant spouse;
+ Now, take her place; the case deceit allows;
+ Make Jack your friend; nor haggle at the price;
+ A hundred ducats give, is my advice;
+ He'll place you in the room where darkness reigns;
+ Think not too fast, nor suffer heavy chains;
+ Do what you wish, and utter not a word;
+ To speak, assuredly would be absurd;
+ 'Twould spoil the whole; destroy the project quite;
+ Attend, and see if all things be not right.
+
+ THE project pleased Catella to the soul;
+ Her wrath, no longer able to controul,
+ She Richard stopt; enough, enough, she cried;
+ I fully understand:--leave me to guide;
+ I'll play the fellow and his wanton lass
+ A pretty trick-shall all their art surpass,
+ Unless the string gives way and spoils my scheme;
+ What, take me for a nincompoop?--they dream.
+
+ THIS said, she sought excuse to get away,
+ And went in quest of Jack without delay.
+ The keeper, howsoe'er, a hint had got;
+ Minutolo had schooled him for the plot;
+ Oft cash does wonders, and, if such the case
+ In France or Britain, when conferred a grace,
+ The bribe is taken, and the truth abused,
+ In Italy it will not be refused;
+ There this sole quiver Cupid useful finds,--
+
+ A purse well stored--all binds, gunlocks, or blinds:
+ Jack took the pelf from Richard and the dame;
+ Had Satan offered--'twould have been the same.
+ In short, Minutolo had full success,
+ All came about, and marked the spark's address.
+
+ THE lady had at first some warm dispute
+ To many questions Jack was even mute;
+ But when he saw the golden charms unmasked,
+ Far more he promised than Catella asked.
+
+ THE time of rendezvous arrived, our spark
+ To Jack's repaired, and found the room quite dark;
+ So well arranged, no crevice could he find,
+ Through which the light might hurt what he designed.
+
+ NOT long he waited, ere our jealous dame,
+ Who longed to find her faithless husband, came,
+ Most thoroughly prepared his ears to greet.
+ Jack brought the couple presently to meet.
+ The lady found, howe'er, not what she sought:
+ No guilty spouse, nor Mrs. Simon caught;
+ But wily Richard, who, without alarms,
+ In silence took Catella in his arms.
+ What further passed between the easy pair,
+ Think what you will, I mean not to declare;
+ The lover certainly received delight
+ The lady showed no terror nor affright;
+ On neither side a syllable was dropt
+ With care Minutolo his laughter stopt;
+ Though difficult, our spark succeeded well;
+ No words of mine can Richard's pleasure tell.
+ His fav'rite beauteous belle he now possessed,
+ And triumphed where so oft he'd been repressed,
+ Yet fondly hoped her pardon he should get,
+ Since they together had so gaily met.
+
+ AT length, the fair could no longer contain:
+ Vile wretch, she cried, I've borne too much 'tis plain;
+ I'm not the fav'rite whom thou had'st in view:
+ To tear thy eyes out justly were thy due,
+ 'Tis this, indeed, that makes thee silent keep,
+ Each morn feign sickness, and pretend to sleep,
+ Thyself reserving doubtless for amours:--
+ Speak, villain! say, of charms have I less stores?
+ Or what has Mrs. Simon more than I?
+ A wanton wench, in tricks so wondrous sly!
+ Where my love less? though truly now I hate;
+ Would that I'd seen thee hung, thou wretch ingrate!
+
+ MINUTOLO, while thus Catella spoke,
+ Caressed her much, but silence never broke;
+ A kiss e'en tried to gain, without success;
+ She struggled, and refused to acquiesce;
+ Begone! said she, nor treat me like a child;
+ Stand off!--away!--thy taction is defiled;
+ My tears express an injured woman's grief;
+ No more thy wife I'll be, but seek relief;
+ Return my fortune--go:--thy mistress seek;
+ To be so constant:--How was I so weak?
+ It surely would be nothing more than right,
+ Were Richard I to see this very night,
+ Who adoration constantly has paid:--
+ You much deserve to be a cuckold made;
+ I'm half inclined, I vow, to do the worst.
+ At this our arch gallant with laughter burst.
+ What impudence!--You mock me too? she cried
+ Let's see, with blushes if his face be dyed?
+ When from his arms she sprang, a window sought;
+ The shutters ope'd, and then a view she caught;
+ Minutolo, her lover! * * * what surprise!
+ Pale, faint, she instant grew, and closed her eyes:
+ Who would have thought, said she, thou wert so base?
+ I'm lost! * * * for ever sunk in dire disgrace!
+
+ WHO'LL, know it? Richard earnestly replied;
+ In Jack's concealment we may both confide;
+ Excuse the trick I've played and ne'er repine;
+ Address, force, treachery, in love combine;
+ All are permitted when intrigue 's the word;
+ To hold the contrary were quite absurd.
+ Till stratagem was used I naught could gain,
+ But looks and darts from eyes, for all my pain.
+ I've paid myself;--Would you have done it?--No;
+ 'Tis all as might be wished;--come, smiles bestow;
+ I'm satisfied, the fault was not with you.
+ In this, to make you wretched, naught I view;
+ Why sigh and groan?--What numbers could I name,
+ Who would be happy to be served the same.
+
+ HIS reas'ning yet could not the belle appease;
+ She wept, and sought by tears her mind to ease;
+ Affliction highly added to her charms;
+ Minutolo still gave her new alarms;
+ He took her hand, which she at once withdrew:
+ Away, she cried; no longer me pursue;
+ Be satisfied; you surely don't desire
+ That I assistance from the house require,
+ Or rouse the neighbours with my plaintive cries
+ I'll ev'ry thing declare without disguise.
+
+ SUCH folly don't commit, replied the spark;
+ Your wisest plan is nothing to remark:
+ The world at present is become so vile,
+ If you the truth divulge, they'll only smile;
+ Not one a word of treachery would believe,
+ But think you came--and money to receive:
+ Suppose, besides, it reached your husband's ears;
+ Th' effect has reason to excite your fears;
+ 'Twould give displeasure and occasion strife:
+ Would you in duels wish to risk his life?
+ Whatever makes you with him disagree,
+ At all events, I'm full as bad as he.
+
+ THESE reasons with Catella greatly weighed
+ Since things, continued he, are thus displayed;
+ And cannot be repaired, console your mind;
+ A perfect being never was designed.
+ If, howsoe'er you will * * * but say no more;
+ Such thoughts for ever banish, I implore.
+ 'Mid all my perseverance, zeal, and art,
+ I nothing got but frowns that pierced the heart:
+ 'Twill now on you depend if pleasure prove
+ This day imperfect, ere from hence we move.
+ What more remains to do? the worst is past;
+ 'Tis step the first that costs, however classed.
+
+ So well Minutolo preferred his suit,
+ The lady with him more would not dispute,
+ With downcast eyes she listened to his prayer,
+ And looked disposed to tranquilize his care;
+ From easy freedom soon he 'gan to soar;
+ A smile received:--a kiss bestowed and more:
+ At length, the lady passed resistance by,
+ And all conceded, e'en without a sigh.
+
+ OUR hero felt a thousand times more blessed
+ Than when he first the beauteous fair caressed;
+ For when a flame reciprocal is raised,
+ The bliss redoubles, and by all is praised.
+
+ THUS Richard pleasantly employed his time,
+ Contented lived, concentring joys sublime.
+ A sample, now, we have given of his pow'rs,
+ And who would wish for more delightful hours?
+ O grant, kind heav'n! that I the like may meet,
+ And ever prove so wary and discreet.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+In childhood FEAR 's the lesson first we know!
+Who knows too much, oft shows a want of sense
+
+
+
+
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