The Wolf and the Dog
When I was very young, and I could not tie my shoelaces, sometimes I would ask my dad to tie them for me, in French ''attacher". And my father would reply: "Attac, dit le loup?". I did not understand why he was saying that until I read this fable.
Le Loup et le Chien
Un loup n’avait que les os et la peau,
Tant les chiens faisaient bonne garde.
Ce loup rencontre un dogue aussi puissant
que beau,
Gras, poli1, qui s’était fourvoyé
par mégarde.
L’attaquer, le mettre en quartiers,
Sire loup l’eût fait volontiers :
Mais il fallait livrer bataille ;
Et le mâtin était de taille
À se défendre hardiment.
Le loup donc l’aborde humblement,
Entre en propos, et lui fait compliment
Sur son embonpoint, qu’il admire.
Il ne tiendra qu’à vous, beau sire,
D’être aussi gras que moi, lui repartit le chien.
Quittez les bois, vous ferez bien :
Vos pareils y sont misérables,
Cancres, hères et pauvres diables,
Dont la condition est de mourir de faim.
Car, quoi ! rien d’assuré !
point de franche lippée !
Tout à la pointe de l’épée !
Suivez-moi, vous aurez un bien meilleur destin.
Le loup reprit : Que me faudra-t-il faire ?
Presque rien, dit le chien :
donner la chasse aux gens
Portants bâtons, et mendiants ;
Flatter ceux du logis, à son maître complaire ;
Moyennant quoi votre salaire
Sera force reliefs2 de toutes les façons,
Os de poulets, os de pigeons ;
Sans parler de mainte caresse.
Le loup déjà se forge une félicité
Qui le fait pleurer de tendresse.
Chemin faisant il vit le cou du chien pelé.
Qu’est-ce là ? lui dit-il. — Rien.
— Quoi ! rien ! — Peu de chose. —
Mais encor ? — Le collier dont je suis attaché
De ce que vous voyez est peut-être la cause.
Attaché ! dit le loup : vous ne courez donc pas
Où vous voulez ? — Pas toujours ;
mais qu’importe ?
Il importe si bien, que de tous vos repas
Je ne veux en aucune sorte,
Et ne voudrais pas même à ce prix d’un trésor.
Cela dit, maître loup s’enfuit, et court encor.
- Ici le mot 'poli' signifie luisant de graisse.
- Débris de viandes provenant d’un repas.
The Wolf and the Dog
A wolf was only bones and skin,
As so many dogs were keeping watch.
This wolf meets a mastiff as powerful
as it was beautiful,
Bold, glistening with grease, who had mistakenly
gone astray.
To attack it, to quarter it,
Sir wolf would have done it willingly:
But the battle had to be fought;
And the mastiff was big enough
To defend himself boldly.
So the wolf approaches him humbly,
Comes in about, and compliments him
On his portliness, which he admires.
It's up to you, handsome sir,
To be as fat as me, replied the dog.
Leave the woods, you'll do well:
Your kind are miserable there,
Dunces, wretches, and poor devils,
Whose condition is to starve to death.
Because, what! nothing guaranteed! no easy meals!
All at the point of the sword!
Follow me, you will have a much better fate.
The wolf replied: What shall I do?
Almost nothing, said the dog:
chasing people
Bearing staff, and beggars;
Flattering the family, pleasing the master;
For that your salary
Will be many meat scraps,
Chicken bones, pigeon bones;
Not to mention many caresses.
The wolf already feels very happy
Which makes him cry with tenderness.
On the way, he saw the dog's neck peeled.
What's that? he asked him. - Nothing.
— What ! nothing! — Nothing much. —
But still? — The necklace I'm attached to
Is the cause of what you see.
Attached ! said the wolf: so you don't run
Where you want? - Not always; but does it matter?
It matters so much, that of all your meals
I do not want in any way,
And wouldn't even want a treasure at that price.
That said, master wolf fled, and is still running.
Previous fable: The Crow and the Fox
Next fable: The City Rat and the Country Rat
La Fontaine's Biography, part 2.
Madame de la Sablière took him home and took care of his existence. Indeed, his inertia and lack of foresight were such that, without the care that she took of him, he would have found himself a prey to every need. Madame de la Sablière rendered him the greatest service in this regard by welcoming him into her home and providing for all his needs for twenty years: they were the happiest of his life.
She had just dismissed all her servants at once. The gratitude and friendship of our poet for this amiable lady were boundless, he immortalized her in his masterpieces.
It has been noticed that Louis XIV did not bestow his blessings on La Fontaine as on the other geniuses who illustrated his reign. This prince did not sufficiently appreciate the genre in which this charming storyteller excelled: he treated the fables of La Fontaine much like the pictures of Teniers.
The benefactress of the child poet being dead, he went to see M. d'Hervart, his friend, who met him: "I learned," he said to him, "the misfortune that has befallen you; you were staying with Madame de la Sablière; she is not anymore. Please come and live at my house." "I was going there," replied the poet. This touching abandonment of trust is a worthy tribute to generous friendship.
He died in Paris on April 15, 1695. He had been a member of the French Academy since 1684.
Among the immortal works that remain to us of this inimitable man, we must place first his Fables, which everyone knows and knew how to appreciate. What ease! what vivacity, what delicacy at the same time, and what naivety! for he united these two qualities to a superior degree, and it is this mixture that produces the prodigy. He is truly the poet of nature, especially in his fables, they seem to have fallen from his pen.