FABLE OF THE CIGALE AND THE ANT 9 



fable is further emphasised. After five or six weeks of 

 gaiety, the songstress falls from the tree, exhausted by the 

 fever of life. The sun shrivels her body ; the feet of the 

 passers-by crush it. A bandit always in search of booty, 

 the Ant discovers the remains. She divides the rich find, 

 dissects it, and cuts it up into tiny fragments, which go 

 to swell her stock of provisions. It is not uncommon to 

 see a dying Cigale, whose wings are still trembling in the 

 dust, drawn and quartered by a gang of knackers. Her 

 body is black with them. After this instance of 

 cannibalism the truth of the relations between the two 

 insects is obvious. 



Antiquity held the Cigale in high esteem. The Greek 

 Beranger, Anacreon, devoted an ode to her, in which 

 his praise of her is singularly exaggerated. ^' Thou art 

 almost like unto the Gods," he says. The reasons which 

 he has given for this apotheosis are none of the best. 

 They consist in these three privileges : y/jyevik, airadrig, 

 avaijuLoaapice ; born of the earth, insensible to pain, 

 bloodless. We will not reproach the poet for these 

 mistakes ; they were then generally believed, and were 

 perpetuated long afterwards, until the exploring eye of 

 scientific observation was directed upon them. And in 

 minor poetry, whose principal merit lies in rhythm and 

 harmony, we must not look at things too closely. 



Even in our days, the Provencal poets, who know the 

 Cigale as Anacreon never did, are scarcely more careful 

 of the truth in celebrating the insect which they have 

 taken for their emblem. A friend of mine, an eager 

 observer and a scrupulous realist, does not deserve this 

 reproach. He gives me permission to take from his 

 pigeon-holes the following Provencal poem, in which the 



