Analysis of The Eel Pie

La Fontaine 1621 (Château-Thierry, Champagne) – 1695 (Neuilly-sur-Seine, Île-de-France)



HOWEVER exquisite we BEAUTY find,
It satiates sense, and palls upon the mind:
Brown bread as well as white must be for me;
My motto ever is--VARIETY.

THAT brisk brunette, with languid, sleepy eye,
Delights my fancy; Can you tell me why?
The reason 's plain enough:--she 's something new.
The other mistress, long within my view,
Though lily fair, with seraph features blessed,
No more emotion raises in my breast;
Her heart assents, while mine reluctant proves;
Whence this diversity that in us moves?
From hence it rises, to be plain and free,
My motto ever is--VARIETY.

THE same in other words, I've often said;
'Tis right, at times, disguise with care to spread.
The maxim's good, and with it I agree:
My motto ever is--VARIETY.

A CERTAIN spouse the same devise had got,
Whose wife by all was thought a handsome lot.
His love, howe'er, was over very soon;
It lasted only through the honeymoon;
Possession had his passion quite destroyed;
In Hymen's bands too oft the lover 's cloyed.

ONE, 'mong his valets, had a pretty wife;
The master was himself quite full of life,
And soon the charmer to his wishes drew,
With which the husband discontented grew,
And having caught them in the very fact,
He rang his mate the changes for the act;
Sad names he called her, howsoever just,
A silly blockhead! thus to raise a dust,
For what, in ev'ry town 's so common found;
May we worse fortune never meet around!

HE made the paramour a grave harangue
Don't others give, said he, the poignant pang;
But ev'ry one allow to keep his own,
As God and reason oft to man have shown,
And recommended fully to observe;
You from it surely have not cause to swerve;
You cannot plead that you for beauty pine
You've one at home who far surpasses mine;
No longer give yourself such trouble, pray:
You, to my help-mate, too much honour pay;
Such marked attentions she can ne'er require
Let each of us, alone his own admire.
To others' WELLs you never ought to go,
While your's with sweets is found to overflow;
I willingly appeal to connoisseurs;
If heav'n had blessed me with such bliss as your's,
That when I please, your lady I could take,
I would not for a queen such charms forsake.
But since we can't prevent what now is known,
I wish, good sir, contented with your own,
(And 'tis, I hope, without offence I speak,)
You'll favours from my wife no longer seek.

THE master, neither no nor yes replied,
But orders gave, his man they should provide;
For dinner ev'ry day, what pleased his taste,
A pie of eels, which near him should be placed.

HIS appetite at first was wond'rous great;
Again, the second time, as much he ate;
But when the third appeared, he felt disgust,
And not another morsel down could thrust.
The valet fain would try a diff'rent dish;
'Twas not allowed;--you've got, said they, your wish;
'Tis pie alone; you like it best you know,
And no objection you must dare to show.

I'M surfeited, cried he, 'tis far too much:
Pie ev'ry day! and nothing else to touch!
Not e'en a roasted eel, or stewed, or fried!
Dry bread I'd rather you'd for me provide.
Of your's allow me some at any rate,
Pies, (devil take them!) thoroughly I hate;
They'll follow me to Paradise I fear,
Or further yet;--Heav'n keep me from such cheer!

THEIR noisy mirth the master thither drew,
Who much desired the frolick to pursue;
My friend, said he, I greatly feel surprise,
That you so soon are weary grown of pies;
Have I not heard you frequently declare,
Eel-pie 's of all, the most delicious fare?
Quite fickle, certainly, must be your taste;
Can any thing in me so strange be traced?
When I exchange a food which you admire;
You blame and say, I never ought to tire;
You do the very same; in truth, my friend,
No mark of folly 'tis, you may depend,
In lord or squire, or citizen or clown,
To change the bread that's white for bit of brown:
With more experience, you'll with me agree,--
My motto ever is--VARIETY.

WHEN thus the master had himself expressed,
The valet presently was less distressed;
Some arguments, howe'er, at first he used;
For, after all--are fully we excused,
When we our pleasure solely have in view;
Without regarding what's to others due?
I relish change; well, take it; but 'tis best,
To gain the belles with love of gold possessed;
And that appears to me the proper plan;
In truth, our lover very soon began
To practise this advice;--his voice and way
Could angel-sweetness instantly convey.

HIS words were always gi


Scheme aabB ccddeeffbB ggbB hhiixa jjddkkllmm nnooppqqrrstuuxfvvooww xxyy zzll1 1 uu 2 2 xxzz3 3 dd4 4 5 5 yyts6 6 7 7 bb ee8 8 ddee9 9 rr x
Poetic Form
Metre 101001101 111010101 1111111111 1101010100 1101110101 0111011111 010110111101 0101010111 110111101 1101010011 011110101 1101001011 1111011101 1101010100 0101011101 1111011111 011011101 1101010100 0101010111 1111110101 1110110101 110101010 0101110101 0111101011 111110101 0101011111 0101011101 110100101 0101100101 1111010101 1111011 010111101 1101111101 1111010101 11010101 1101110101 111011111 1101011111 001010101 1111011111 1101111101 1111110101 1101011101 111111111 1101011110 1111011101 1101110111 111111110 110001101 1111111111 1111110111 1111011101 1111011111 1111010111 011101111 111111101 0101011101 1101111101 110111111 0111111111 11011111 0101011111 1101011101 0101010111 0011110111 1101111111 1101111111 0101011111 11111111 111010111 11101011111 1111011101 1101111101 1101110011 110111011 1101111111 110101011 1101001101 1111110101 1111110111 1111110001 11111010101 1101001111 1101011111 1101011101 11011101110 1101010111 1111011101 0111110011 1101111111 11010011101 1101010100 1101010101 0011001101 1100101111 1101110101 111010100101 0101011101 1101111111 1101111101 0101110101 01101010101 111011101 1101010001 11011
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,310
Words 804
Sentences 29
Stanzas 12
Stanza Lengths 4, 10, 4, 6, 10, 22, 4, 8, 8, 16, 12, 1
Lines Amount 105
Letters per line (avg) 32
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 282
Words per stanza (avg) 66
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:10 min read
65

La Fontaine

Jean de La Fontaine was a French fabulist and one of the most widely read French poets of the 17th century. more…

All La Fontaine poems | La Fontaine Books

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