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The Wolf And The Shepherds.
By Jean de La Fontaine
[1]
A Wolf, replete
With humanity sweet,
(A trait not much suspected,)
On his cruel deeds,
The fruit of his needs,
Profoundly thus reflected.
'I'm hated,' said he,
'As joint enemy,
By hunters, dogs, and clowns.
They swear I shall die,
And their hue and cry
The very thunder drowns.
'My brethren have fled,
With price on the head,
From England's merry land.
King Edgar came out,
And put them to rout,[2]
With many a deadly band.
'And there's not a squire
But blows up the fire
By hostile proclamation;
Nor a human brat,
Dares cry, but that
Its mother mocks my nation.
'And all for what?
For a sheep with the rot,
Or scabby, mangy ass,
Or some snarling cur,
With less meat than fur,
On which I've broken fast!
'Well, henceforth I'll strive
That nothing alive
Shall die to quench my thirst;
No lambkin shall fall,
Nor puppy, at all,
To glut my maw accurst.
With grass I'll appease,
Or browse on the trees,
Or die of famine first.
'What of carcass warm?
Is it worth the storm
Of universal hate?'
As he spoke these words,
The lords of the herds,
All seated at their bait,
He saw; and observed
The meat which was served
Was nought but roasted lamb!
'O! O!' said the beast,
'Repent of my feast -
All butcher as I am -
On these vermin mean,
Whose guardians e'en
Eat at a rate quadruple! -
Themselves and their dogs,
As greedy as hogs,
And I, a wolf, to scruple!'
'Look out for your wool
I'll not be a fool,
The very pet I'll eat;
The lamb the best-looking,
Without any cooking,
I'll strangle from the teat;
And swallow the dam,
As well as the lamb,
And stop her foolish bleat.
Old Hornie, too, - rot him, -
The sire that begot him
Shall be among my meat!'
Well-reasoning beast!
Were we sent to feast
On creatures wild and tame?
And shall we reduce
The beasts to the use
Of vegetable game?
Shall animals not
Have flesh-hook or pot,
As in the age of gold?
And we claim the right,
In the pride of our might,
Themselves to have and hold?
O shepherds, that keep
Your folds full of sheep,
The wolf was only wrong,
Because, so to speak,
His jaws were too weak
To break your palings strong.
Extra Info:
[1] Founded upon one of Philibert Hegemon's Fables.
[2] King Edgar put them to rout. - The English king Edgar (reigned 959-75) took great pains in hunting and pursuing wolves; "and," says Hume, "when he found that all that escaped him had taken shelter in the mountains and forests of Wales, he changed the tribute of money imposed on the Welsh princes by Athelstan, his predecessor, into an annual tribute of three hundred heads of wolves; which produced such diligence in hunting them, that the animal has been no more seen in this island." - Hume's England, vol. i., p. 99, Bell's edit., 1854.
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