by Daisy Dunn
One of the learned men said: “Let us ask Aesop yet another question: What thing is it that we never see or hear?” And the king said: “I ask you, Aesop, to tell us what thing it is that we never hear or see?” Aesop replied: “Allow me to answer tomorrow.” And when he went to his house, he pretended to write a contract and obligation in which Nectanabo confessed to having received as a loan from King Licurus one thousand silver marks, which he obliged himself to repay at a time already past. And the next morning Aesop took that contract and showed it to the king. After reading it the king marveled and said to his powerful men; “You hear and see that I received some money a while ago which King Licurus of Babylon lent to me.” They said, “We have never heard or seen such a thing.” Then, said Aesop: “If what you say is true, the question is resolved.” The king, hearing this, said: “Happy art thou, Licurus, to possess such a man.” And so he sent the tribute with Aesop. And he, having returned to Babylon, told King Licurus all that he had done in Egypt and then presented the tribute which the king had sent. And for this King Licurus ordered a gold statue of Aesop raised in public.
After a few days, desiring to see Greece, Aesop asked leave of the king, promising to return and spend the rest of his life in Babylon. And thus traveling through the cities of Greece, showing his wisdom through fables, he earned a great reputation and increased in wisdom. Finally Aesop came to a city called Delphi, which was a much honored city and the chief place of the region. As the people heard him and followed him there was no honor they did not do him. And Aesop said to them: “Men of Delphi, you certainly are like a tree that is brought to the sea. The wood, when it is far from the sea, seems a large object, but when it is near it knows itself to be small, just as I was when I was distant from your city: I thought that you were the most excellent of all, but now, being near you, I know you for the least discreet of all.” The people of Delphi, hearing these and similar words, said among themselves; “This fellow is feared and followed in many other towns. If we are not careful, certainly by his fables and stories he will take away and diminish the authority of our city. Therefore let us take counsel concerning this affair.” So they agreed to kill Aesop by a trick, claiming that he was evil and sacrilegious. But on account of the people they did not dare to kill him publicly without reason, so they detained Aesop’s servant, who had to prepare his affairs for his departure. And they placed secretly within his luggage a golden vessel that came from the temple of the sun. Aesop, not knowing the tricks and treason that had been prepared against him, left that place for another, called Focida, and to that place the men of Delphi followed him and there took him prisoner with great clamor. When Aesop asked them why they detained him, they shouted loudly: “O evil one, O villainous, wicked man. Why did you steal from the Temple of Apollo and the Sun?” This Aesop denied freely, maintaining it with a heavy heart. But the men of Delphi, unpacking his luggage, found in it in the golden goblet, and showed it to everyone with great tumult and noise and resolutely dragged him to prison.
Aesop, not yet knowing their deceit and treason, asked them to let him go his way. And they pressed and constrained him more than ever, and kept him in prison more determinedly. Then Aesop, seeing no way to escape and knowing that they had decided to kill him, groaned and complained of his bad fortune. A friend of his, whose name was Demas, coming into the prison and seeing Aesop wailing, said to him: “Why are you moaning in this fashion, Aesop? Be stout-hearted and have hope and console yourself.” But the people of Delphi publicly sentenced him to death as a thief and guilty of sacrilege of the temple. And coming together as one man, they took Aesop out of the prison to throw him over a cliff. Realizing this, Aesop said: “In the days when dumb animals were in agreement, the mouse and the frog made peace and concluded a friendship. The former invited the latter to dinner. And as they were entering a room where there were bread, honey, figs, and other good things to eat, the mouse said to the frog: ‘Choose of this food and eat what suits you best, and you will have a better appetite.’ After they had pleased themselves with those foods, the frog said to the mouse: ‘Since I have had pleasure and joy with you, it is but right that you should see my house and company and should partake of my goods as a friend and brother. But so that you may proceed most surely, tie your foot to mine.’ The mouse believed him and so, with their feet tied, the frog jumped into the river and took the mouse with him, swimming. And the mouse, seeing that he was drowning, said loudly: ‘By your treachery I am killed. Some among the living must avenge me upon you.’ And while they were locked in this struggle, a kite, seeing the mouse in the water, seized both him and the frog and ate them both. And now, without guilt and against justice, I am to die at your hands and am punished. But Babylon and Greece will avenge me upon you who do this evil deed to me.”
The men of Delphi, hearing this, had no wish to let Aesop go, but rather struggled to carry him to the cliff from which they meant to throw him. But Aesop, struggling, fled from their hands and repaired to the Temple of Apollo and climbed up the altar. But it did him no good, for those of Delphi by force and cruelty took him from there with great wrath, determination, roughness, and beatings and carried him off to throw him over the cliff. Now Aesop, seeing himself thus carried off dishonorably, said to them: “Citizens of Delphi, look upon this your god. Although his dwelling is small, you do not wish to dishonor it, but look with shame and moderation toward Apollo, to whom I had resorted when you dragged me forth.” But they, not heeding his words, with great zeal carried him off to death. And Aesop, seeing his end near, said very quickly: “Evil and cruel men, since I cannot make you understand my counsels, at least listen carefully to this story: A woman had a mad virgin for a daughter, and she continually begged the gods to give her daughter some brains. The mother offered this prayer many times and even in public that her mad daughter might recover her mind. And a few days later, being in a village where she had gone with her mother, the daughter went out of the house and saw how a village boy wished to have indecent carnal knowledge of a she-ass. The girl came up to the boy and asked, ‘What are you doing, good fellow?’ And he replied: ‘I am giving some brains to this she-ass.’ The mad girl, remembering her mother’s words, said: ‘Oh, good lad, I wish you would give me some brains also, and if you do so, you will not labor in vain, for my mother will be very grateful to you.’ The country boy left the she-ass and violated and corrupted the virgin. And she, thus corrupted and happy, ran to her mother saying: ‘Rejoice, mother, for on account of your prayers I have been given brains.’ The mother replied: ‘And thus the gods have answered my prayers, or what is this?’ The daughter answered: ‘Just now a boy put a rather long thing with balls hanging below it into my stomach, taking it out and returning it quickly. I received it gladly for certain, and thus he gave me brains, and I feel it so in my heart.’ Then said the mother: ‘Woe to you, my daughter, rather you have lost the few brains you had.’
“Similarly I urge you to hear another fable in this manner: A farmer, as he was growing old in the country and had never seen a city, and desiring to see one, asked his relatives to take him to the city. They put the old man in a cart pulled by two yoked asses, and they said: ‘Now spur them and by themselves they will take you to the city.’ But as the old man was going toward the city, a whirlwind came up suddenly so that the sky was dark, and the asses, wandering from the road, took him to a high and dangerous place. The old man, seeing he was in danger of death, called upon Jupiter, saying: ‘O Jupiter, how did I offend your temples and majesty that I thus perish miserably? For would that I were dragged and killed or cast down from a cliff by valuable and excellent horses rather than by such vile asses.’ “And so,” said Aesop, “I am not tormented by distinguished and illustrious men, but by useless and perverse servants am I killed.”
Reaching the place where he was to be thrown over, he spoke to them again in this way: “A man, being obsessed by love of his daughter, sent his wife to town, and he had the daughter in the house, whom he violated and ravi
shed. The daughter said to him: ‘You are doing forbidden and ugly things. I had rather suffer this crime and evil from a hundred others than from you alone.’ “And so,” said Aesop, “wicked and perverse men of Delphi, I would prefer to besiege all of Cicilia and suffer all the perils of the sea rather than die thus wrongly at your hands. I beg you and your gods, and your land, and I admonish all of you to hear me who am dying unjustly that you may receive from them other, more just vengeance in the form of torments and penalties.” But, unwilling to hear anything, the men of Delphi had him thrown over a steep cliff, and thus ended the life of the harassed Aesop.
After Aesop’s death, pestilence and hunger and a great furor and madness of heart fell upon those of Delphi, concerning which they asked advice of Apollo; and the reply came that they should build an oratory for Aesop to placate and appease the gods. Thus, with compunction and repentance in their hearts for having killed Aesop unjustly, they built a temple to him. By this means the princes of Greece and the important persons and presidents of the provinces heard of Aesop’s death. Coming to Delphi and having made diligent inquiry and learned the truth, they summoned to justice and suitably punished those who had caused his death. Thus they avenged Aesop’s death. Here concludes the life of Aesop.
THE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE
Battle of Frogs and Mice
Anon.
Translated by Joel P. Christensen and Erik Robinson, 2018
In antiquity, this story was often attributed to Homer. Although the poem is almost certainly not Homeric, its origins remain unclear, with some dating it to the fifth century BC and others to the early Roman Empire. The inspiration for the tale is Aesop’s fable of the mouse and the frog (see previous story). A frog, the fable goes, promised to teach a mouse to swim by binding his leg to his. Sadly, the mouse drowned, and in his dying breath threatened to take revenge on the frog from beyond the grave. True to his word, a bird swooped down and snatched the dead mouse before gobbling up the frog still tethered to his corpse. The author of the Battle of Frogs and Mice clearly knew Aesop’s fable but decided to take it in his own direction.
Once upon a time, a thirsty mouse escaped the weasel’s danger
and then lowered his greedy chin down to a pond
to take pleasure in the honey-sweet water. A pond-loving frog,
a big-talker, saw him and uttered something like this:
“Friend, who are you? From where have you come to our shore?
Who sired you?
Tell me everything truly so I don’t think you’re a liar.
If I consider you a worthy friend, I’ll take you home,
where I will give you many fine gifts of friendship.
I am King Bellowmouth and I am honored
throughout the pond as leader of frogs for all days.
My father Mudman raised me up after he had sex
with Watermistress along the banks of the Eridanus.
I see that you are noble and brave beyond the rest,
and also a scepter-bearing king and a warrior in battles.
Come closer and tell me of your lineage.”
Then Crumbthief answered and spoke:
“Why do you seek out my lineage? It’s known
to all men, gods and flying things in the sky.
I am known as Crumbthief. I am the son
of great-hearted Bread nibbler and my mother Mill-licker,
who was daughter of King Hamnibbler.
She birthed me in a hidey-hole and nourished me with food
like figs and nuts and all kinds of choice sweets.
How could you make me your friend when our nature is so different?
Your life is in the water—but it is my custom
to nibble away at the foods of men. And I never miss out
on thrice-kneaded bread in the well-rounded basket.
Nor does a long-robed flat cake dressed out with plenty sesame and cheese
ever escape me. Neither does a ham-slice, a white-robed liver
nor just-curdled cheese from sweet-milk,
nor the holy honey-cake which even the gods desire,
nor the things cooks carve out for mortals’ feasts
when they season the dishes with every kind of spice.
I have never fled the dread song of war
but instead I head straight into the danger and join the forefighters.
I don’t fear people, even though they have such great size;
no, I run up to their beds and bite the tip of their fingers.
Then I take their ham and no pain overtakes the man,
no one wakes from sleep when I bite him.
But I do really fear two things over the whole earth:
the hawk and the weasel who bring me great grief
and also the grievous mousetrap where a deceptive fate awaits me.
But I fear the weasel more than anything, that beast who is best
at ferreting a hole-dweller out of his hole.
I don’t eat radishes, cabbage, and pumpkins;
and I don’t munch on pale beets or parsley.
Such things are the delicacies of pond-dwellers like you.”
Grinning at this, Bellowmouth responded:
“Friend, you brag too much about your belly. We also
have many marvels to see in the pond and on the shore.
Zeus gave the frogs an amphibious realm
to dance upon the earth or cover our bodies in water
and to inhabit homes divided doubly in parts.
If you wish to learn about these things too, it’s simple.
Climb on my back, hold on tight so you don’t slip
and then you can come happily to my home.”
Thus he spoke and offered up his back. Crumbthief hopped on quickly,
holding his hands around Bellowmouth’s delicate neck with a light embrace.
At first he was rejoicing as he looked upon the neighboring harbors
and delighted in Bellowmouth’s swimming. But, then, when he was
splashed by the roiling waves, he poured forth a flood of tears
and reproached his useless decision. He tore at his hairs,
squeezed his feet around his stomach and his heart
shook at the novelty and he wished to get back to land.
He wailed dreadfully under the oppression of chilling fear.
First, he set his tail into the water as though guiding a rudder,
and prayed to the gods to make it to the shore.
He was splashed again by the murky water, and kept shouting out for help.
Then he made a speech like this as he proclaimed:
“Didn’t the bull carry his cargo of love in this way
when he led Europa over the waves to Krete?
Such is the way this frog set out and led a mouse to his house
after raising his pale body on the white wave.”
Suddenly, a water snake appeared, a bitter sight to both,
holding his throat up straight out of the water.
When he saw him, Bellowmouth went under water, considering not
what sort of friend he was about to abandon to death.
He submerged in the depth of the pond, and avoided black death.
But the mouse, as he was let go, fell backward into the water,
clenched his hands, and squeaked as he was dying.
Several times he went down below the water, and several times
he kicked and came back up. But it was not possible to ward off fate.
His wet hair put more weight on him,
and dying in the water, he shouted out these words:
“You won’t evade the gods in doing these deceitful things,
tossing me shipwrecked from your body as if off a crag.
You rotten bastard, you were not better than me upon land
at fighting or wrestling or running, so you brought me to the water
and hurled me into it! God has an eye for vengeance.
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You will not avoid paying a penalty and
righteous payback to the host of mice who honor me.”
As he said this, he gasped in the water. And Platelicker
saw him as he sat upon the luxuriant banks.
Then he wailed terribly, ran, and informed the mice.
A dread wrath fell upon them as they learned his fate,
and they ordered their heralds to summon their kin
to the assembly at the home of Breadmuncher at dawn.
He was father of pitiful Crumbthief who floated on the pond
as a corpse facing upward, no longer struggling
on the banks but raised up in the middle of the sea.
And so they came hurrying at dawn and among them first
Breadmuncher rose enraged over his son to make this speech:
“Friends, even if I alone suffered these many evils from the frogs,
it would still be a vile crime against us all.
I am wretched because I have lost three children:
a most hateful weasel snatched up the first and killed him
as she dragged him from his hole.
Harsh men dragged the second to his doom
once they designed a wooded trick with their newfangled arts—
that thing they call the trap, the destroyer of mice.
[A mouse-eating great beast made my first son into dinner
as he chanced upon him spinning on his fat heel.]
The third was beloved to me and his prized mother,
Bellowmouth drowned him once he dragged him to the deep.
Come, let us arm ourselves and go out to face them
once we’ve arrayed our bodies in our well-worked arms.”
In saying this, he persuaded everyone to arm themselves;
and so, Ares who loves war armed them.