Le Charlatan Bilingue Français/Anglais

Le Charlatan

Le monde n’a jamais manqué de charlatans:
Cette science, de tout temps,
Fut en professeurs très-fertile.
Tantôt l’un en théâtre affronte l’Achéron,
Et l’autre affiche par la ville
Qu’il est un passe-Cicéron.

Un des derniers se vantait d’être
En éloquence si grand maître,
Qu’il rendrait disert un badaud,
Un manant, un rustre, un lourdaud;
Oui, messieurs, un lourdaud, un animal, un âne:
Que l’on m’amène un âne, un âne renforcé,
Je le rendrai maître passé,
Et veux qu’il porte la soutane.
Le prince sut la chose; il manda le rhéteur.
J’ai, dit-il, en mon écurie
Un fort beau roussin d’Arcadie;
J’en voudrais faire un orateur.
Sire, vous pouvez tout, reprit d’abord notre homme.
On lui donna certaine somme.
Il devait au bout de dix ans
Mettre son âne sur les bancs;
Sinon il consentait d’être en place publique
Guindé la hart au col, étranglé court et net,
Ayant au dos sa rhétorique,
Et les oreilles d’un baudet.
Quelqu’un des courtisans lui dit qu’à la potence
Il voulait l’aller voir, et que, pour un pendu,
Il aurait bonne grâce et beaucoup de prestance:
Surtout qu’il se souvînt de faire à l’assistance
Un discours où son art fût au long étendu;
Un discours pathétique, et dont le formulaire
Servît à certains Cicérons
Vulgairement nommés larrons.
L’autre reprit: Avant l’affaire,
Le roi, l’âne, ou moi, nous mourrons.
Il avait raison. C’est folie
De compter sur dix ans de vie.
Soyons bien buvants, bien mangeants,
Nous devons à la mort de trois l’un en dix ans.

The Charlatan

The world has never lack’d its charlatans,
More than themselves have lack’d their plans.
One sees them on the stage at tricks
Which mock the claims of sullen Styx.
What talents in the streets they post!
One of them used to boast
Such mastership of eloquence
That he could make the greatest dunce
Another Tully Cicero
In all the arts that lawyers know.
‘Ay, sirs, a dunce, a country clown,
The greatest blockhead of your town,–
Nay more, an animal, an ass,–
The stupidest that nibbles grass,–
Needs only through my course to pass,
And he shall wear the gown
With credit, honour, and renown.’
The prince heard of it, call’d the man, thus spake:
‘My stable holds a steed
Of the Arcadian breed,
Of which an orator I wish to make.’
‘Well, sire, you can,’
Replied our man.
At once his majesty
Paid the tuition fee.
Ten years must roll, and then the learned ass
Should his examination pass,
According to the rules
Adopted in the schools;
If not, his teacher was to tread the air,
With halter’d neck, above the public square,–
His rhetoric bound on his back,
And on his head the ears of jack.
A courtier told the rhetorician,
With bows and terms polite,
He would not miss the sight
Of that last pendent exhibition;
For that his grace and dignity
Would well become such high degree;
And, on the point of being hung,
He would bethink him of his tongue,
And show the glory of his art,–
The power to melt the hardest heart,–
And wage a war with time
By periods sublime–
A pattern speech for orators thus leaving,
Whose work is vulgarly call’d thieving.
‘Ah!’ was the charlatan’s reply,
‘Ere that, the king, the ass, or I,
Shall, one or other of us, die.’
And reason good had he;
We count on life most foolishly,
Though hale and hearty we may be.
In each ten years, death cuts down one in three.