5-+Le+Loup+devenu+Berger

LE LOUP DEVENU BERGER
 Un Loup qui commençait d'avoir petite part Aux Brebis de son voisinage, Crut qu'il fallait s'aider de la peau du Renard Et faire un nouveau personnage. Il s'habille en Berger, endosse un hoqueton, Fait sa houlette d'un bâton, Sans oublier la Cornemuse. Pour pousser jusqu'au bout la ruse, Il aurait volontiers écrit sur son chapeau : C'est moi qui suis Guillot, berger de ce troupeau. Sa personne étant ainsi faite Et ses pieds de devant posés sur sa houlette, Guillot le sycophante approche doucement. Guillot le vrai Guillot étendu sur l'herbette, Dormait alors profondément. Son chien dormait aussi, comme aussi sa musette. La plupart des Brebis dormaient pareillement. L'hypocrite les laissa faire, Et pour pouvoir mener vers son fort les Brebis Il voulut ajouter la parole aux habits, Chose qu'il croyait nécessaire. Mais cela gâta son affaire, Il ne put du Pasteur contrefaire la voix. Le ton dont il parla fit retentir les bois, Et découvrit tout le mystère. Chacun se réveille à ce son, Les Brebis, le Chien, le Garçon. Le pauvre Loup, dans cet esclandre, Empêché par son hoqueton, Ne put ni fuir ni se défendre. Toujours par quelque endroit fourbes se laissent prendre. Quiconque est Loup agisse en Loup: C'est le plus certain de beaucoup.

Translation by Marianne Moore:

**THE WOLF PLAYS SHEPHERD**
 A wolf who had not got his share, it would appear, Of sheep pastured near his wood, Said to himself, "I'll play the fox and make guile my care." Assuming a novel attitude, Putting on a shepherd's smock, he then took a cane Or crook, to make the inference plain, And shepherd's pipes to aid the ruse. Glad of any touch that might appear of use, He was all but tempted to print upon his headgear, "This is Giles, the shepherd, whose sheep are grazing near." Demureness concealing his wolfish look, Apart from furred paws crossed on his shepherd's crook, Hairy Hypocrisy crept up in his false gown. Good Giles, the real Giles, lying prone as if sunstruck, Was lost in a dream on the down, His dog muter than the Pan pipes he kept with his flock, And the sheep fast asleep - or say nearly every one. Hypocrite of course took care To lead sheep into his snare imperceptibly And thought that his voice ought to lend his garb verity - Essential to his pseudo-character. But he miscalculated there. He could not counterfeit a shepherd's gentle voice; His kind words, which filled the woods with a raucous noise, Served to involve him in dispair. All woke as if he had fired a gun - Sheep, dog, shepherd, everyone. The poor wolf was in a fine plight, Impeded by his shepherd's gown, Neither able to run away nor fight. A counterfeit's sure to be exposed to the light. A wolf is a wolf in every pulse; No use pretending something else.

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