A Miller , his Son , and their Ass. A FABLE Translated from Monsieur de la Fontaine . THO' to Antiquity the Praise we yield Of pleasing Arts ; and Fable's earli'st Field Own to be fruitful Greece ; yet not so clean Those Ears were reap'd , but still there's some to glean : And from the Lands of vast Invention come Daily new Authors , with Discov'ries home . This curious Piece , which I shall now impart , Fell from Malherbe , a Master in his Art , To Racan , fill'd with like poetick Fire , Both tuneful Servants of Apollo's Choir , Rivals and Heirs to the Horatian Lyre : Who meeting him , one Day , free and alone , ( For still their Thoughts were to each other known ) Thus ask'd his Aid — Some useful Counsel give , Thou who , by living long , hast learnt to live ; Whose Observation nothing can escape ; Tell me , how I my course of Life shall shape : To something I wou'd fix ere't be too late . You know my Birth , my Talents , my Estate : Shall I with these content , all Search resign , And to the Country my Desires consine ? Or in the Court , or Camp , advancement gain ? The World's a mixture of Delight and Pain : Tho' rough it seems , there's Pleasure in the Wars , And Hymen's Joys are not without their Cares . I need not ask , to what my Genius tends , But wou'd content the World , the Court , my Friends . Please all the World ( in haste ) Malherbe replies ? How vain th' Attempt will prove in him , that tries , Learn from a Fable , I have somewhere found , Before I answer all that you propound . A Miller and his Son ( the Father old , The Boy about some fifteen Years had told ) Design'd their Ass to sell , and for the Fair , Some distance off , accordingly prepare . But lest she in the walk should lose her Flesh , And not appear , for Sale , so full and fresh , Her Feet together ty'd ; between them two They heav'd her up ; and on the Rusticks go : Till those , who met them bearing thus the Ass , Cry'd , Are these Fools about to act a Farce ? Surely the Beast ( howe'er it seem to be ) Is not the greatest Ass of all the Three . The Miller in their Mirth his Folly finds , And down he sets her , and again unbinds ; And tho' her grumbling shew'd , she lik'd much more The lazy way , she travell'd in before , He minds her not ; but up the Boy he sets Upon her Back , and on the Crupper gets . Thus on they jog , when of Three Men that pass'd . The eldest thinking Age to be disgrac'd , Call'd to the Youth , ho ! you , young Man for shame ! Come down , lest Passengers your Manners blame , And say , it ill becomes your tender Years To ride before a Grandsire with grey Hairs . Truly , the Gentlemen are in the right , The Miller cries , and makes the Boy alight ; Then forward slides himself into his place , And with a Mind content , renews his pace : But much he had not gain'd upon his way , Before a Troop of Damsels , neat and gay , ( Partial to Youth ) to one another cry'd , See , how with walking by that Dotard's side , The Boy is tir'd ; whilst with a Prelate's state He rides alone , and dangling in the Seat , Hangs like a Calf thrown up , across the Beast . The Miller , thinking to have spoil'd that Jest , Reply'd , he was too Old for Veal to pass , But after more on him , and on his Ass , He stands convinc'd , and takes his Son again To ride at ease himself , still next the Mane . Yet ere he'd thirty Paces borne the Lad , The next they met , cry'd — Are these Fellows mad Have they no Pity thus t'o'erload the Jade ! Sure , at the Fair , they for her Skin may trade . See , how's she spent , and sinks beneath their strokes The Miller , whom this most of all provokes , Swears by his Cap , he shews his want of Brains , Who thus to please the World , bestows his Pains Howe'er we'll try , if this way't may be done ; And off he comes , and fetches down his Son . Behind they walk , and now the Creature drive , But cou'd no better in their Purpose thrive ; Nor scape a Fellow's Censure , whom they meet , That cries , to spare the Ass they break their Feet ; And whilst unladen at her ease she goes , Trudge in the Dirt , and batter out their Shooes ; As if to burthen her they were afraid , And Men for Beasts , not Beasts for Men were made . The Proverb right , the Cart before the Horse . The Miller , finding things grow worse and worse , Cries out , I am an Ass , it is agreed , And so are all , who wou'd in this succeed . Hereafter , tho' Reproof or Praise I find , I'll neither heed , but follow my own Mind , Take my own Counsel , how my Beast to sell . This he resolv'd , and did it , and did well . For you , Sir , Follow Love , the Court , the War ; Obtain the Crosier , or the City's Furr ; Live single all your Days , or take a Wife ; Trust me , a Consure waits each state of Life .