"Here this case for six months has been pending,
And yet, as far as I can see,

We might as well the first day have been spending,
Meanwhile the honey's every chance of spoiling.
This turmoil in!

It's time the judge should hasten in the matter,
Has he not cleanly licked the platter?
With all these questionings and contradictions,
This mass of rubbish and of fictions!
Come, let us work, these drones and we,
And then perchance, it may be, you will see
Which can build best, with all this luscious juice,
The cells to hold it!" This the drones refuse,
Which showed that, notwithstanding their pretension,
The art of building passed their comprehension !
The wasp adjudged the honey to the bees:

Please God, all suits were rectified like these !
And we pursued the method of the Turk
When common sense in lieu of codes might work,
For then we should not have so much to spend ;
But now each lawyer eats us and devours,
And undermines us by the length of hours;
In fact they manage this way, in the end:
The judge obtains the oyster for his share,
Only the shells for the poor suitors are!

Fable 22.-Le Chêne et le Roseau.

Le chêne un jour dit au roseau :

Vous avez bien sujet d'accuser la nature;
Un roitelet pour vous est un pesant fardeau ;
Le moindre vent qui d'aventure

Fait rider la face de l'eau

Vous oblige à baisser la tête; Cependant que mon front au Caucase pareil, Non content d'arrêter les rayons du soleil, Brave l'effort de la tempête.

Tout vous est aquilon; tout me semble zéphir. Encore si vous naissiez à l'abri du feuillage

Dont je couvre le voisinage,

Vous n'auriez pas tant à souffrir;
Je vous défendrais de l'orage:

Mais vous naissez le plus souvent

Sur les humides bords des royaumes du vent.
La nature envers vous me semble bien injuste.
Votre comparaison, lui répondit l'arbuste,
Part d'un bon naturel: mais quittez ce souci;

Fable 22.-The Oak and the Reed.

An oak one day was saying to a reed,
"You're right to be with Nature much offended!
A wren for you is quite a load indeed!
And the least wind that blows,

And only wrinkles on the waters shows,
Obliges you to have your head quite bended;
While my bold front, like Caucasus so high,
Not only can the sun's rays modify,

But bears the brunt of what the storms can try ;
The tempest which in every breath you see,
The same a gentle zephyr blows for me!
Had you been born beneath the ample shade,
With which I cover all the neighbourhood,
I might a shelter from the wind have made,
And what you suffer might have been withstood;
Instead of that, one may you mostly find
Born on the moist banks of the land of wind!
Nature towards you has unjustly dealt."

"Your comparison is good-natured," said the reed;

Les vents me sont moins qu'à vous redoutables : Je plie et ne romps pas. Vous avez jusqu'ici Contre leurs coups épouvantables

Résisté sans courber le dos :

Mais attendons la fin. Comme il disait ces mots,
Du bout de l'horison accourt avec furie
Le plus terrible des enfants

Que le Nord eût porté jusques-là dans ses flancs.
L'arbre tient bon; le roseau plie;

Le vent redouble ses efforts;

Et fait si bien qu'il déracine

Celui de qui la tête au ciel était voisine,

Et dont les pieds touchaient à l'empire des morts.

"For me to be concerned you have no need!
By me the winds are less than by you felt;
I bend but break not: you, up to this stage,
Have borne up bravely 'gainst its mighty rage,
But let us 'bide the end!" No sooner said
Than the most fearful infant that was bred

In the North's loins burst on each speaker's head:
From the horizon's edge, a tempest dread!

The tree held on erect; the reed bent low;
The wind redoubled its fell energy:

At last uproots him who could boast to show

A head whose height was even with the sky,

And feet which touched the realm where dead men lie