Advice Agreed by Rats

Translated from Jean de la Fontaine's Fables, Book II, Fable II

A cat, whose name was Rodilard
had crushed the Rats to such degree
that those days one saw few about
because he’d sent so many to the cemetery.
The Rats left—hardly any—afraid to leave their holes
could only find a quarter of former decent meals,
and Rodilard comported himself with that poor people
not as a cat, but as the devil.
One evening when the rogue had wandered
to seek a female far and near,
for the entire soiree he wooed his lady fair
the rest of the Rats arranged an assembly in a corner
about this clear and present threat.
Up front, the Elder, wise old Rat,
suggested they should stick, and sooner the better as well
around Rodilard’s neck a tiny little bell.
That way when he went out to prowl
warned by his steps, they’d seek their holes.
Indeed he knew no other plan.
They all concurred with the great man.
Nothing seemed to them to solve their plight as well.
The difficulty came in how to fix the bell.
“It won’t be me,” one says. “I am not that naive.”
Another: “There’s no way.” And so, having achieved
little, they parted. I’ve counted by the score
Assemblies ending up with nothing more.
Even Assemblies of Canons.

When talk is all a problem needs
men fill the Courts to take that role
but when the focus turns to deeds
strangely you will not meet a soul.

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