Let us not force our talent,
For we would do nothing with grace:
Never can a boor, whatever he may do,
Pass for a gallant man.
Few people, whom Heaven cherishes and favors,
Have the gift of pleasing as an innate part of life.
This is a quality that must be left to them,
Lest we resemble the Donkey of the Fable,
Who, to make himself more likable
And dearer to his master, went to caress him.
“How is it,” he said to himself,
“That this Dog, because he is cute,
Should live as an equal companion
With the Master and the Mistress;
While I receive blows from a stick?
What does he do?” “He gives his paw;
Then immediately he is kissed:
If I must do the same to be pampered,
It is not very difficult.”
With this admirable thought,
Seeing his Master in high spirits, he approaches clumsily,
Lifts a worn-out hoof,
And brings it to his chin quite affectionately,
Not without accompanying, for greater ornament,
This bold action with his graceful song.
“Oh! Oh! What a caress! And what a melody!”
The Master said at once. “Ho there, Martin Stick!”
Martin Stick runs up; the Donkey changes his tune.
Thus ends the comedy.

Jean de La Fontaine