Le Singe.

 

Il est un Singe dans Paris
A qui l'on avait donné femme.
Singe en effet d'aucuns maris,
Il la battait : la pauvre Dame
En a tant soupiré qu'enfin elle n'est plus.
Leur fils se plaint d'étrange sorte,
Il éclate en cris superflus :
Le père en rit ;
sa femme est morte.
Il a déjà d'autres amours
Que l'on croit qu'il battra toujours.
Il hante la taverne et souvent il s'enivre.
N'attendez rien de bon du Peuple imitateur,
Qu'il soit Singe ou qu'il fasse un Livre :
La pire espèce, c'est l'Auteur.

 

 

The Fox and the Turckeys.

 

Against a robber fox, a tree
Some turkeys served as citadel.
That villain, much provoked to see
Each standing there as sentinel,
Cried out, 'Such witless birds
At me stretch out their necks, and gobble!
No, by the powers! I'll give them trouble.'
He verified his words.
The moon, that shined full on the oak,
Seem'd then to help the turkey folk.
But fox, in arts of siege well versed,
Ransack'd his bag of tricks accursed.
He feign'd himself about to climb;
Walk'd on his hinder legs sublime;
Then death most aptly counterfeited,
And seem'd anon resuscitated.
A practiser of wizard arts
Could not have fill'd so many parts.
In moonlight he contrived to raise
His tail, and make it seem a blaze:
And countless other tricks like that.
Meanwhile, no turkey slept or sat.
Their constant vigilance at length,
As hoped the fox, wore out their strength.
Bewilder'd by the rigs he run,
They lost their balance one by one.
As Renard slew, he laid aside,
Till nearly half of them had died;
Then proudly to his larder bore,
And laid them up, an ample store.

A foe, by being over-heeded,
Has often in his plan succeeded.

IX - Lo Scimmiotto.

 

IX - Lo Scimmiotto

Un Scimmiotto di Parigi
prese moglie; ma il carattere
bestial del bestïone
fe' morir la buona scimmia
sotto i colpi del bastone.

Mentre i figli al triste fato
della madre versan lagrime,
il marito innalza grida
che diresti ch'egli rida.
E già cotto innamorato
d'altre scimmie
un'eguale cortesia
lor prepara di bastone,
mentre affoga la passione
dentro i fiaschi all'osteria.

O sia scimmia o sia scrittore
(e quest'ultimo è peggiore)
Dio ti salvi dalla greggia
della gente che scimmieggia.