[240]
Marie de France lived probably in the latter part of the twelfth century and was one of the most striking figures in Middle English literature. She seems to have been born in France, lived much in England, translated from the Anglo-Norman dialect into French, and is spoken of as the first French poet. One of her three works, and the most extensive, is a collection of 103 fables, which she says she translated from the English of King Alfred. Her original, whatever it may have been, is lost. One of her fables, in a translation by Professor W. W. Skeat, is given below. It contains the germ of Chaucer's "Nun's Priest's Tale," in The Canterbury Tales.
THE COCK AND THE FOX
MARIE DE FRANCE
A Cock our story tells of, who
High on a trash hill stood and crew.
A Fox, attracted, straight drew nigh,
And spake soft words of flattery.
"Dear Sir!" said he, "your look's divine;
I never saw a bird so fine!
I never heard a voice so clear
Except your father's—ah! poor dear!
His voice rang clearly, loudly—but
Most clearly when his eyes were shut!"
"The same with me!" the Cock replies,
And flaps his wings, and shuts his eyes.
Each note rings clearer than the last—
The Fox starts up and holds him fast;
Toward the wood he hies apace.
But as he crossed an open space,
The shepherds spy him; off they fly;
The dogs give chase with hue and cry.
The Fox still holds the Cock, though fear
Suggests his case is growing queer.
"Tush!" cries the Cock, "cry out, to grieve 'em,
'The cock is mine! I'll never leave him!'"
The Fox attempts, in scorn, to shout,
And opes his mouth; the Cock slips out,
And in a trice has gained a tree.
Too late the Fox begins to see
How well the Cock his game has played;
For once his tricks have been repaid.
In angry language, uncontrolled,
He 'gins to curse the mouth that's bold
To speak, when it should silent be.
"Well," says the Cock, "the same with me;
I curse the eyes that go to sleep
Just when they ought sharp watch to keep
Lest evil to their lord befall."
Thus fools contrariously do all;
They chatter when they should be dumb,
And, when they ought to speak, are mum.
[241]
The following is Wright's translation of the first fable in La Fontaine's collection. Rousseau, objecting to fables in general, singled out this particular one as an example of their bad effects on children, and echoes of his voice are still in evidence. It would, he said, give children a lesson in inhumanity. "You believe you are making an example of the grasshopper, but they will choose the ant . . . they will take the more pleasant part, which is a very natural thing." Another observer said: "As for me, I love neither grasshopper nor ant, neither avarice nor prodigality, neither the miserly people who lend nor the spendthrifts who borrow." These statements represent complex, analytic points of view which are probably outside the range of most children. They will see the grasshopper simply as a type of thorough shiftlessness and the ant as a type of forethought, although La Fontaine does suggest that the ant might on general principles be a little less "tight-fisted." The lesson that idleness is the mother of want, the necessity of looking ahead, of providing for the future, of laying up for a rainy day—these are certainly common-sense conclusions and the only ones the story itself will suggest to the child.
THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE ANT
LA FONTAINE
A grasshopper gay
Sang the summer away,
And found herself poor
By the winter's first roar.
Of meat or of bread,
Not a morsel she had!
So a begging she went,
To her neighbor the ant,
For the loan of some wheat,
Which would serve her to eat,
Till the season came round.
"I will pay you," she saith,
"On an animal's faith,
Double weight in the pound
Ere the harvest be bound."
The ant is a friend
(And here she might mend)
Little given to lend.
"How spent you the summer?"
Quoth she, looking shame
At the borrowing dame.
"Night and day to each comer
I sang, if you please."
"You sang! I'm at ease;
For 'tis plain at a glance,
Now, ma'am, you must dance."