The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase · Chapter 34Gay's Fables
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Remote from cities lived a swain, Unvexed with all the cares of gain; His head was silvered o'er with age, And long experience made him sage; In summer's heat, and winter's cold, He fed his flock and penned the fold; His hours in cheerful labour flew, Nor envy nor ambition knew: His wisdom and his honest fame Through all the country raised his name. _10 A deep philosopher (whose rules Of moral life were drawn from schools) The shepherd's homely cottage sought And thus explored his reach of thought: 'Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil? Hast thou old Greece and Rome surveyed, And the vast sense of Plato weighed? Hath Socrates thy soul refined, And hast thou fathomed Tully's mind? _20 Or like the wise Ulysses, thrown By various fates, on realms unknown, Hast thou through many cities strayed, Their customs, laws, and manners weighed?' The shepherd modestly replied, 'I ne'er the paths of learning tried; Nor have I roamed in foreign parts To read mankind, their laws and arts; For man is practised in disguise, He cheats the most discerning eyes; _30 Who by that search shall wiser grow, When we ourselves can never know? The little knowledge I have gained, Was all from simple nature drained; Hence my life's maxims took their rise, Hence grew my settled hate to vice. The daily labours of the bee Awake my soul to industry. Who can observe the careful ant, And not provide for future want? _40 My dog (the trustiest of his kind) With gratitude inflames my mind. I mark his true, his faithful way, And in my service copy Tray. In constancy and nuptial love, I learn my duty from the dove. The hen, who from the chilly air, With pious wing protects her care; And every fowl that flies at large, Instructs me in a parent's charge. _50 From nature too I take my rule, To shun contempt and ridicule. I never, with important air, In conversation overbear. Can grave and formal pass for wise, When men the solemn owl despise? My tongue within my lips I rein; For who talks much, must talk in vain. We from the wordy torrent fly: Who listens to the chattering pye? _60 Nor would I, with felonious flight, By stealth invade my neighbour's right; Rapacious animals we hate: Kites, hawks, and wolves deserve their fate. Do not we just abhorrence find Against the toad and serpent kind? But envy, calumny, and spite, Bear stronger venom in their bite. Thus every object of creation Can furnish hints to contemplation; _70 And from the most minute and mean, A virtuous mind can morals glean.' 'Thy fame is just,' the sage replies; 'Thy virtue proves thee truly wise. Pride often guides the author's pen, Books as affected are as men: But he who studies nature's laws, From certain truth his maxims draws; And those, without our schools, suffice To make men moral, good, and wise.' _80
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Accept, young Prince, the moral lay And in these tales mankind survey; With early virtues plant your breast, The specious arts of vice detest. Princes, like beauties, from their youth Are strangers to the voice of truth; Learn to contemn all praise betimes; For flattery's the nurse of crimes; Friendship by sweet reproof is shown, (A virtue never near a throne); _10 In courts such freedom must offend, There none presumes to be a friend. To those of your exalted station Each courtier is a dedication. Must I too flatter like the rest, And turn my morals to a jest? The Muse disdains to steal from those Who thrive in courts by fulsome prose. But shall I hide your real praise, Or tell you what a nation says? _20 They in your infant bosom trace The virtues of your royal race; In the fair dawning of your mind Discern you generous, mild, and kind; They see you grieve to hear distress, And pant already to redress. Go on, the height of good attain, Nor let a nation hope in vain. For hence we justly may presage The virtues of a riper age. _30 True courage shall your bosom fire, And future actions own you sire. Cowards are cruel, but the brave Love mercy, and delight to save. A tiger roaming for his prey, Sprung on a traveller in the way; The prostrate game a lion spies, And on the greedy tyrant flies; With mingled roar resounds the wood, Their teeth, their claws distil with blood; _40 Till vanquished by the lion's strength, The spotted foe extends his length. The man besought the shaggy lord, And on his knees for life implored. His life the generous hero gave, Together walking to his cave, The lion thus bespoke his guest: 'What hardy beast shall dare contest My matchless strength! you saw the fight, And must attest my power and right. _50 Forced to forego their native home, My starving slaves at distance roam. Within these woods I reign alone, The boundless forest is my own. Bears, wolves, and all the savage brood, Have dyed the regal den with blood. These carcases on either hand, Those bones that whiten all the land, My former deeds and triumphs tell, Beneath these jaws what numbers fell.' _60 'True,' says the man, 'the strength I saw Might well the brutal nation awe: But shall a monarch, brave like you, Place glory in so false a view? Robbers invade their neighbours' right, Be loved: let justice bound your might. Mean are ambitious heroes' boasts Of wasted lands and slaughtered hosts. Pirates their power by murders gain, Wise kings by love and mercy reign. _70 To me your clemency hath shown The virtue worthy of a throne. Heaven gives you power above the rest, Like Heaven to succour the distress'd.' 'The case is plain,' the monarch said; 'False glory hath my youth misled; For beasts of prey, a servile train, Have been the flatterers of my reign. You reason well: yet tell me, friend, Did ever you in courts attend? _80 For all my fawning rogues agree, That human heroes rule like me.'
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A spaniel, bred with all the care That waits upon a favourite heir, Ne'er felt correction's rigid hand; Indulged to disobey command, In pampered ease his hours were spent; He never knew what learning meant. Such forward airs, so pert, so smart, Were sure to win his lady's heart; Each little mischief gained him praise; How pretty were his fawning ways! _10 The wind was south, the morning fair, He ventured forth to take the air. He ranges all the meadow round, And rolls upon the softest ground: When near him a cameleon seen, Was scarce distinguished from the green. 'Dear emblem of the flattering host, What, live with clowns! a genius lost! To cities and the court repair: A fortune cannot fail thee there: _20 Preferment shall thy talents crown, Believe me, friend; I know the town.' 'Sir,' says the sycophant, 'like you, Of old, politer life I knew: Like you, a courtier born and bred; Kings leaned an ear to what I said. My whisper always met success; The ladies praised me for address, I knew to hit each courtier's passion, And flattered every vice in fashion. _30 But Jove, who hates the liar's ways, At once cut short my prosperous days; And, sentenced to retain my nature, Transformed me to this crawling creature. Doomed to a life obscure and mean, I wander in the sylvan scene. For Jove the heart alone regards; He punishes what man rewards. How different is thy case and mine! With men at least you sup and dine; _40 While I, condemned to thinnest fare, Like those I flattered feed on air.'
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Give me a son! The blessing sent, Were ever parents more content? How partial are their doting eyes! No child is half so fair and wise. Waked to the morning's pleasing care, The mother rose, and sought her heir. She saw the nurse, like one possess'd, With wringing hands, and sobbing breast. 'Sure some disaster hath befell: Speak, nurse; I hope the boy is well.' _10 'Dear madam, think not me to blame; Invisible the fairy came: Your precious babe is hence conveyed, And in the place a changeling laid. Where are the father's mouth and nose, The mother's eyes, as black as sloes? See here a shocking awkward creature, That speaks a fool in every feature.' 'The woman's blind,' the mother cries; 'I see wit sparkle in his eyes.' _20 'Lord! madam, what a squinting leer; No doubt the fairy hath been here.' Just as she spoke, a pigmy sprite Pops through the key-hole, swift as light; Perched on the cradle's top he stands, And thus her folly reprimands: 'Whence sprung the vain conceited lie, That we the world with fools supply? What! give our sprightly race away, For the dull helpless sons of clay! _30 Besides, by partial fondness shown, Like you we doat upon our own. Where yet was ever found a mother, Who'd give her booby for another? And should we change for human breed, Well might we pass for fools indeed.'
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As Jupiter's all-seeing eye Surveyed the worlds beneath the sky, From this small speck of earth were sent, Murmurs and sounds of discontent; For every thing alive complained, That he the hardest life sustained. Jove calls his eagle. At the word Before him stands the royal bird. The bird, obedient, from heaven's height, Downward directs his rapid flight; _10 Then cited every living thing, To hear the mandates of his king. 'Ungrateful creatures, whence arise These murmurs which offend the skies? Why this disorder? say the cause: For just are Jove's eternal laws. Let each his discontent reveal; To yon sour dog, I first appeal.' 'Hard is my lot,' the hound replies, 'On what fleet nerves the greyhound flies, _20 While I, with weary step and slow, O'er plains and vales, and mountains go. The morning sees my chase begun, Nor ends it till the setting sun.' 'When,' says the greyhound, 'I pursue, My game is lost, or caught in view; Beyond my sight the prey's secure: The hound is slow, but always sure. And had I his sagacious scent, Jove ne'er had heard my discontent.' _30 The lion craved the fox's art; The fox, the lion's force and heart: The cock implored the pigeon's flight, Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light: The pigeon strength of wing despised, And the cock's matchless valour prized: The fishes wished to graze the plain; The beasts to skim beneath the main. Thus, envious of another's state, Each blamed the partial hand of Fate. _40 The bird of heaven then cried aloud, 'Jove bids disperse the murmuring crowd; The god rejects your idle prayers. Would ye, rebellious mutineers, Entirely change your name and nature, And be the very envied creature? What, silent all, and none consent! Be happy then, and learn content: Nor imitate the restless mind, And proud ambition, of mankind.' _50
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Against an elm a sheep was tied, The butcher's knife in blood was dyed: The patient flock in silent fright, From far beheld the horrid sight. A savage boar, who near them stood, Thus mocked to scorn the fleecy brood. 'All cowards should be served like you. See, see, your murderer is in view: With purple hands and reeking knife, He strips the skin yet warm with life; _10 Your quartered sires, your bleeding dams, The dying bleat of harmless lambs, Call for revenge. O stupid race! The heart that wants revenge is base.' 'I grant.' an ancient ram replies, 'We bear no terror in our eyes; Yet think us not of soul so tame, Which no repeated wrongs inflame; Insensible of every ill, Because we want thy tusks to kill. _20 Know, those who violence pursue, Give to themselves the vengeance due; For in these massacres we find The two chief plagues that waste mankind: Our skin supplies the wrangling bar, It wakes their slumbering sons to war; And well revenge may rest contented, Since drums and parchment were invented.'
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The wind was high, the window shakes, With sudden start the miser wakes; Along the silent room he stalks; Looks back, and trembles as he walks! Each lock and every bolt he tries, In every creek and corner prys, Then opes the chest with treasure stored, And stands in rapture o'er his hoard; But, now with sudden qualms possess'd, He wrings his hands, he beats his breast. _10 By conscience stung, he wildly stares; And thus his guilty soul declares: 'Had the deep earth her stores confined, This heart had known sweet peace of mind. But virtue's sold. Good gods, what price Can recompense the pangs of vice! O bane of good! seducing cheat! Can man, weak man, thy power defeat? Gold banished honour from the mind, And only left the name behind; _20 Gold sowed the world with every ill; Gold taught the murderer's sword to kill: 'Twas gold instructed coward hearts, In treachery's more pernicious arts. Who can recount the mischiefs o'er? Virtue resides on earth no more!' He spoke, and sighed. In angry mood, Plutus, his god, before him stood. The miser, trembling, locked his chest; The vision frowned, and thus address'd: _30 'Whence is this vile ungrateful rant? Each sordid rascal's daily cant. Did I, base wretch, corrupt mankind? The fault's in thy rapacious mind. Because my blessings are abused, Must I be censured, cursed, accused? Even virtue's self by knaves is made A cloak to carry on the trade; And power (when lodged in their possession) Grows tyranny, and rank oppression. _40 Thus, when the villain crams his chest, Gold is the canker of the breast; 'Tis avarice, insolence, and pride, And every shocking vice beside. But when to virtuous hands 'tis given, It blesses, like the dews of heaven: Like Heaven, it hears the orphan's cries, And wipes the tears from widows' eyes; Their crimes on gold shall misers lay, Who pawned their sordid souls for pay? _50 Let bravoes then (when blood is spilt) Upbraid the passive sword with guilt.'
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A lion, tired with state affairs, Quite sick of pomp, and worn with cares, Resolved (remote from noise and strife) In peace to pass his latter life. It was proclaimed; the day was set; Behold the general council met, The fox was viceroy named. The crowd To the new regent humbly bowed. Wolves, bears, and mighty tigers bend, And strive who most shall condescend. _10 He straight assumes a solemn grace, Collects his wisdom in his face. The crowd admire his wit, his sense: Each word hath weight and consequence. The flatterer all his art displays: He who hath power, is sure of praise. A fox stept forth before the rest, And thus the servile throng address'd. 'How vast his talents, born to rule, And trained in virtue's honest school: _20 What clemency his temper sways! How uncorrupt are all his ways! Beneath his conduct and command, Rapine shall cease to waste the land. His brain hath stratagem and art; Prudence and mercy rule his heart; What blessings must attend the nation Under this good administration!' He said. A goose who distant stood, Harangued apart the cackling brood: _30 'W'hene'er I hear a knave commend, He bids me shun his worthy friend. What praise! what mighty commendation! But 'twas a fox who spoke the oration. Foxes this government may prize, As gentle, plentiful, and wise; If they enjoy the sweets, 'tis plain We geese must feel a tyrant reign. What havoc now shall thin our race, When every petty clerk in place, _40 To prove his taste and seem polite, Will feed on geese both noon and night!'
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What whispers must the beauty bear! What hourly nonsense haunts her ear! Where'er her eyes dispense their charms, Impertinence around her swarms. Did not the tender nonsense strike, Contempt and scorn might soon dislike. Forbidding airs might thin the place, The slightest flap a fly can chase. But who can drive the numerous breed? Chase one, another will succeed. _10 Who knows a fool, must know his brother; One fop will recommend another: And with this plague she's rightly curs'd, Because she listened to the first. As Doris, at her toilet's duty, Sat meditating on her beauty, She now was pensive, now was gay, And lolled the sultry hours away. As thus in indolence she lies, A giddy wasp around her flies. _20 He now advances, now retires, Now to her neck and cheek aspires. Her fan in vain defends her charms; Swift he returns, again alarms; For by repulse he bolder grew, Perched on her lip, and sipp'd the dew. She frowns, she frets. 'Good God!' she cries, 'Protect me from these teasing flies! Of all the plagues that heaven hath sent, A wasp is most impertinent.' _30 The hovering insect thus complained: 'Am I then slighted, scorned, disdained? Can such offence your anger wake? 'Twas beauty caused the bold mistake. Those cherry lips that breathe perfume, That cheek so ripe with youthful bloom, Made me with strong desire pursue The fairest peach that ever grew.' 'Strike him not, Jenny,' Doris cries, 'Nor murder wasps like vulgar flies: _40 For though he's free (to do him right) The creature's civil and polite.' In ecstacies away he posts; Where'er he came, the favour boasts; Brags how her sweetest tea he sips, And shows the sugar on his lips. The hint alarmed the forward crew; Sure of success, away they flew. They share the dainties of the day, Round her with airy music play; _50 And now they flutter, now they rest, Now soar again, and skim her breast. Nor were they banished, till she found That wasps have stings, and felt the wound.
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Seek you to train your fav'rite boy? Each caution, every care employ: And ere you venture to confide, Let his preceptor's heart be tried: Weigh well his manners, life, and scope; On these depends thy future hope. As on a time, in peaceful reign, A bull enjoyed the flowery plain, A mastiff passed; inflamed with ire, His eye-balls shot indignant fire; _10 He foamed, he raged with thirst of blood Spurning the ground the monarch stood, And roared aloud, 'Suspend the fight; In a whole skin go sleep to-night: Or tell me, ere the battle rage, What wrongs provoke thee to engage? Is it ambition fires thy breast, Or avarice that ne'er can rest? From these alone unjustly springs The world-destroying wrath of kings.' _20 The surly mastiff thus returns: 'Within my bosom glory burns. Like heroes of eternal name, Whom poets sing, I fight for fame. The butcher's spirit-stirring mind To daily war my youth inclined; He trained me to heroic deed; Taught me to conquer, or to bleed.' 'Cursed dog,' the bull replied, 'no more I wonder at thy thirst of gore; _30 For thou, beneath a butcher trained, Whose hands with cruelty are stained; His daily murders in thy view, Must, like thy tutor, blood pursue. Take then thy fate.' With goring wound, At once he lifts him from the ground; Aloft the sprawling hero flies, Mangled he falls, he howls, and dies.
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The man who, with undaunted toils, Sails unknown seas to unknown soils, With various wonders feasts his sight: What stranger wonders does he write! We read, and in description view Creatures which Adam never knew: For, when we risk no contradiction, It prompts the tongue to deal in fiction. Those things that startle me or you, I grant are strange; yet may be true. _10 Who doubts that elephants are found For science and for sense renowned? Borri records their strength of parts, Extent of thought, and skill in arts; How they perform the law's decrees, And save the state the hangman's fees; And how by travel understand The language of another land. Let those, who question this report, To Pliny's ancient page resort; _20 How learn'd was that sagacious breed! Who now (like them) the Greek can read! As one of these, in days of yore, Rummaged a shop of learning o'er; Not, like our modern dealers, minding Only the margin's breadth and binding; A book his curious eye detains, Where, with exactest care and pains, Were every beast and bird portrayed, That e'er the search of man surveyed, _30 Their natures and their powers were writ, With all the pride of human wit. The page he with attention spread, And thus remarked on what he read: 'Man with strong reason is endowed; A beast scarce instinct is allowed. But let this author's worth be tried, 'Tis plain that neither was his guide. Can he discern the different natures, And weigh the power of other creatures _40 Who by the partial work hath shown He knows so little of his own? How falsely is the spaniel drawn! Did man from him first learn to fawn? A dog proficient in the trade! He the chief flatterer nature made! Go, man, the ways of courts discern, You'll find a spaniel still might learn. How can the fox's theft and plunder Provoke his censure or his wonder; _50 From courtiers' tricks, and lawyers' arts, The fox might well improve his parts. The lion, wolf, and tiger's brood, He curses, for their thirst of blood: But is not man to man a prey? Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay.' The bookseller, who heard him speak, And saw him turn a page of Greek, Thought, what a genius have I found! Then thus addressed with bow profound: _60 'Learn'd sir, if you'd employ your pen Against the senseless sons of men, Or write the history of Siam, [2] No man is better pay than I am; Or, since you're learn'd in Greek, let's see Something against the Trinity.' When wrinkling with a sneer his trunk, 'Friend,' quoth the elephant, 'you're drunk; E'en keep your money and be wise: Leave man on man to criticise; _70 For that you ne'er can want a pen Among the senseless sons of men. They unprovoked will court the fray: Envy's a sharper spur than pay. No author ever spared a brother; Wits are game-cocks to one another.'
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In beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow. As near a barn, by hunger led, A peacock with the poultry fed; All viewed him with an envious eye, And mocked his gaudy pageantry. He, conscious of superior merit, Contemns their base reviling spirit; His state and dignity assumes, And to the sun displays his plumes; _10 Which, like the heaven's o'er-arching skies, Are spangled with a thousand eyes. The circling rays, and varied light, At once confound their dazzled sight: On every tongue detraction burns, And malice prompts their spleen by turns. 'Mark, with what insolence and pride The creature takes his haughty stride!' The turkey cries. 'Can spleen contain? Sure never bird was half so vain! _20 But were intrinsic merit seen, We turkeys have the whiter skin.' From tongue to tongue they caught abuse; And next was heard the hissing goose: 'What hideous legs! what filthy claws! I scorn to censure little flaws! Then what a horrid squalling throat! Even owls are frighted at the note.' 'True; those are faults,' the peacock cries; 'My scream, my shanks you may despise: _30 But such blind critics rail in vain: What, overlook my radiant train! Know, did my legs (your scorn and sport) The turkey or the goose support, And did ye scream with harsher sound, Those faults in you had ne'er been found! To all apparent beauties blind, Each blemish strikes an envious mind.' Thus in assemblies have I seen A nymph of brightest charms and mien, _40 Wake envy in each ugly face; And buzzing scandal fills the place.
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As Cupid in Cythera's grove Employed the lesser powers of love; Some shape the bow, or fit the string; Some give the taper shaft its wing, Or turn the polished quiver's mould, Or head the dart with tempered gold. Amidst their toil and various care, Thus Hymen, with assuming air, Addressed the god: 'Thou purblind chit, Of awkward and ill-judging wit, _10 If matches are not better made, At once I must forswear my trade. You send me such ill-coupled folks, That 'tis a shame to sell them yokes. They squabble for a pin, a feather, And wonder how they came together. The husband's sullen, dogged, shy; The wife grows flippant in reply: He loves command and due restriction, And she as well likes contradiction: _20 She never slavishly submits; She'll have her will, or have her fits. He this way tugs, she t'other draws: The man grows jealous, and with cause. Nothing can save him but divorce; And here the wife complies of course.' 'When,' says the boy, 'had I to do With either your affairs or you? I never idly spent my darts; You trade in mercenary hearts. _30 For settlements the lawyer's fee'd; Is my hand witness to the deed? If they like cat and dog agree, Go, rail at Plutus, not at me.' Plutus appeared, and said, ''Tis true, In marriage gold is all their view: They seek not beauty, wit, or sense; And love is seldom the pretence. All offer incense at my shrine, And I alone the bargain sign. _40 How can Belinda blame her fate? She only asked a great estate. Doris was rich enough, 'tis true; Her lord must give her title too: And every man, or rich or poor, A fortune asks, and asks no more.' Av'rice, whatever shape it bears, Must still be coupled with its cares.
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As a young stag the thicket pass'd, The branches held his antlers fast; A clown, who saw the captive hung, Across the horns his halter flung. Now safely hampered in the cord, He bore the present to his lord. His lord was pleased; as was the clown, When he was tipp'd with half-a-crown. The stag was brought before his wife; The tender lady begged his life. _10 'How sleek's the skin! how speck'd like ermine! Sure never creature was so charming!' At first within the yard confined, He flies and hides from all mankind; Now bolder grown, with fixed amaze, And distant awe, presumes to gaze; Munches the linen on the lines, And on a hood or apron dines: He steals my little master's bread, Follows the servants to be fed: _20 Nearer and nearer now he stands, To feel the praise of patting hands; Examines every fist for meat, And though repulsed, disdains retreat: Attacks again with levelled horns; And man, that was his terror, scorns. Such is the country maiden's fright, When first a red-coat is in sight; Behind the door she hides her face; Next time at distance eyes the lace; _30 She now can all his terrors stand, Nor from his squeeze withdraws her hand. She plays familiar in his arms, And every soldier hath his charms. From tent to tent she spreads her flame; For custom conquers fear and shame.
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A Monkey, to reform the times, Resolved to visit foreign climes: For men in distant regions roam To bring politer manners home, So forth he fares, all toil defies: Misfortune serves to make us wise. At length the treach'rous snare was laid; Poor Pug was caught, to town conveyed, There sold. How envied was his doom, Made captive in a lady's room! _10 Proud as a lover of his chains, He day by day her favour gains. Whene'er the duty of the day The toilet calls; with mimic play He twirls her knot, he cracks her fan, Like any other gentleman. In visits too his parts and wit, When jests grew dull, were sure to hit. Proud with applause, he thought his mind In every courtly art refined; _20 Like Orpheus burnt with public zeal, To civilise the monkey weal: So watched occasion, broke his chain, And sought his native woods again. The hairy sylvans round him press, Astonished at his strut and dress. Some praise his sleeve; and others gloat Upon his rich embroidered coat; His dapper periwig commending, With the black tail behind depending; _30 His powdered back, above, below, Like hoary frost, or fleecy snow; But all with envy and desire, His fluttering shoulder-knot admire. 'Hear and improve,' he pertly cries; 'I come to make a nation wise. Weigh your own words; support your place, The next in rank to human race. In cities long I passed my days, Conversed with men, and learnt their ways. _40 Their dress, their courtly manners see; Reform your state and copy me. Seek ye to thrive? in flattery deal; Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal. Seem only to regard your friends, But use them for your private ends. Stint not to truth the flow of wit; Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit. Bend all your force to spatter merit; Scandal is conversation's spirit. _50 Boldly to everything attend, And men your talents shall commend. I knew the great. Observe me right; So shall you grow like man polite.' He spoke and bowed. With muttering jaws The wondering circle grinned applause. Now, warm with malice, envy, spite, Their most obliging friends they bite; And fond to copy human ways, Practise new mischiefs all their days. _60 Thus the dull lad, too tall for school, With travel finishes the fool; Studious of every coxcomb's airs, He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears; O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts, For vice is fitted to his parts.
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The sage, awaked at early day, Through the deep forest took his way; Drawn by the music of the groves, Along the winding gloom he roves: From tree to tree, the warbling throats Prolong the sweet alternate notes. But where he pass'd, he terror threw, The song broke short, the warblers flew; The thrushes chattered with affright, And nightingales abhorred his sight; _10 All animals before him ran, To shun the hateful sight of man. 'Whence is this dread of every creature? Fly they our figure or our nature?' As thus he walked in musing thought, His ear imperfect accents caught; With cautious step he nearer drew, By the thick shade concealed from view. High on the branch a pheasant stood, Around her all her listening brood; _20 Proud of the blessings of her nest, She thus a mother's care expressed: 'No dangers here shall circumvent, Within the woods enjoy content. Sooner the hawk or vulture trust, Than man; of animals the worst: In him ingratitude you find, A vice peculiar to the kind. The sheep whose annual fleece is dyed, To guard his health, and serve his pride, _30 Forced from his fold and native plain, Is in the cruel shambles slain. The swarms, who, with industrious skill, His hives with wax and honey fill, In vain whole summer days employed, Their stores are sold, their race destroyed. What tribute from the goose is paid! Does not her wing all science aid! Does it not lovers' hearts explain, And drudge to raise the merchant's gain? _40 What now rewards this general use? He takes the quills, and eats the goose. Man then avoid, detest his ways; So safety shall prolong your days. When services are thus acquitted, Be sure we pheasants must be spitted.'
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A pin, who long had served a beauty, Proficient in the toilet's duty, Had formed her sleeve, confined her hair, Or given her knot a smarter air, Now nearest to her heart was placed, Now in her mantua's tail disgraced: But could she partial fortune blame, Who saw her lovers served the same? At length from all her honours cast; Through various turns of life she pass'd; _10 Now glittered on a tailor's arm; Now kept a beggar's infant warm; Now, ranged within a miser's coat, Contributes to his yearly groat; Now, raised again from low approach, She visits in the doctor's coach; Here, there, by various fortune toss'd, At last in Gresham Hall[3] was lost. Charmed with the wonders of the show, On every side, above, below, _20 She now of this or that enquires, What least was understood admires. 'Tis plain, each thing so struck her mind. Her head's of virtuoso kind. 'And pray what's this, and this, dear sir?' 'A needle,' says the interpreter. She knew the name. And thus the fool Addressed her as a tailor's tool: 'A needle with that filthy stone, Quite idle, all with rust o'ergrown! _30 You better might employ your parts, And aid the sempstress in her arts. But tell me how the friendship grew Between that paltry flint and you?' 'Friend,' says the needle, 'cease to blame; I follow real worth and fame. Know'st thou the loadstone's power and art, That virtue virtues can impart? Of all his talents I partake, Who then can such a friend forsake? _40 'Tis I directs the pilot's hand To shun the rocks and treacherous sand: By me the distant world is known, And either India is our own. Had I with milliners been bred, What had I been? the guide of thread, And drudged as vulgar needles do, Of no more consequence than you.'
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A wolf, with hunger fierce and bold, Ravaged the plains, and thinned the fold: Deep in the wood secure he lay, The thefts of night regaled the day. In vain the shepherd's wakeful care Had spread the toils, and watched the snare: In vain the dog pursued his pace, The fleeter robber mocked the chase. As Lightfoot ranged the forest round, By chance his foe's retreat he found. _10 'Let us awhile the war suspend, And reason as from friend to friend.' 'A truce?' replies the wolf. 'Tis done. The dog the parley thus begun: 'How can that strong intrepid mind Attack a weak defenceless kind? Those jaws should prey on nobler food, And drink the boar's and lion's blood; Great souls with generous pity melt, Which coward tyrants never felt. _20 How harmless is our fleecy care! Be brave, and let thy mercy spare.' 'Friend,' says the wolf, 'the matter weigh; Nature designed us beasts of prey; As such when hunger finds a treat, 'Tis necessary wolves should eat. If mindful of the bleating weal, Thy bosom burn with real zeal; Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech; To him repeat the moving speech; _30 A wolf eats sheep but now and then, Ten thousands are devoured by men. An open foe may prove a curse, But a pretended friend is worse.'
* * * * *
Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view. The traveller leaping o'er those bounds, The credit of his book confounds. Who with his tongue hath armies routed, Makes even his real courage doubted: But flattery never seems absurd; The flattered always take your word: Impossibilities seem just; They take the strongest praise on trust. _10 Hyperboles, though ne'er so great, Will still come short of self-conceit. So very like a painter drew, That every eye the picture knew; He hit complexion, feature, air, So just, the life itself was there. No flattery with his colours laid, To bloom restored the faded maid; He gave each muscle all its strength, The mouth, the chin, the nose's length. _20 His honest pencil touched with truth, And marked the date of age and youth. He lost his friends, his practice failed; Truth should not always be revealed; In dusty piles his pictures lay, For no one sent the second pay. Two busts, fraught with every grace A Venus' and Apollo's face, He placed in view; resolved to please, Whoever sat, he drew from these, _30 From these corrected every feature, And spirited each awkward creature. All things were set; the hour was come, His pallet ready o'er his thumb, My lord appeared; and seated right In proper attitude and light, The painter looked, he sketched the piece, Then dipp'd his pencil, talked of Greece, Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air; 'Those eyes, my lord, the spirit there _40 Might well a Raphael's hand require, To give them all the native fire; The features fraught with sense and wit, You'll grant are very hard to hit; But yet with patience you shall view As much as paint and art can do. Observe the work.' My lord replied: 'Till now I thought my mouth was wide; Besides, my mouth is somewhat long; Dear sir, for me, 'tis far too young.' _50 'Oh! pardon me,' the artist cried, 'In this, the painters must decide. The piece even common eyes must strike, I warrant it extremely like.' My lord examined it anew; No looking-glass seemed half so true. A lady came, with borrowed grace He from his Venus formed her face. Her lover praised the painter's art; So like the picture in his heart! _60 To every age some charm he lent; Even beauties were almost content. Through all the town his art they praised; His custom grew, his price was raised. Had he the real likeness shown, Would any man the picture own? But when thus happily he wrought, Each found the likeness in his thought.
* * * * *
How fond are men of rule and place, Who court it from the mean and base! These cannot bear an equal nigh, But from superior merit fly. They love the cellar's vulgar joke, And lose their hours in ale and smoke. There o'er some petty club preside; So poor, so paltry is their pride! Nay, even with fools whole nights will sit, In hopes to be supreme in wit. _10 If these can read, to these I write, To set their worth in truest light. A lion-cub, of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts Of vulgar and ignoble beasts; With asses all his time he spent, Their club's perpetual president. He caught their manners, looks, and airs; An ass in every thing, but ears! _20 If e'er his highness meant a joke, They grinned applause before he spoke; But at each word what shouts of praise! Good gods! how natural he brays! Elate with flattery and conceit, He seeks his royal sire's retreat; Forward, and fond to show his parts, His highness brays; the lion starts. 'Puppy, that cursed vociferation Betrays thy life and conversation: _30
Coxcombs, an ever-noisy race, Are trumpets of their own disgrace.' 'Why so severe?' the cub replies; 'Our senate always held me wise.' 'How weak is pride!' returns the sire; 'All fools are vain, when fools admire! But know what stupid asses prize, Lions and noble beasts despise.'
* * * * *
Restrain your child; you'll soon believe The text which says, we sprung from Eve. As an old hen led forth her train, And seemed to peck to shew the grain; She raked the chaff, she scratched the ground, And gleaned the spacious yard around. A giddy chick, to try her wings, On the well's narrow margin springs, And prone she drops. The mother's breast All day with sorrow was possess'd. _10 A cock she met; her son she knew; And in her heart affection grew. 'My son,' says she, 'I grant your years Have reached beyond a mother's cares; I see you vig'rous, strong, and bold; I hear with joy your triumphs told. Tis not from cocks thy fate I dread; But let thy ever-wary tread Avoid yon well; that fatal place Is sure perdition to our race. _20 Print this my counsel on thy breast; To the just gods I leave the rest.' He thanked her care; yet day by day His bosom burned to disobey; And every time the well he saw, Scorned in his heart the foolish law: Near and more near each day he drew, And longed to try the dangerous view. 'Why was this idle charge?' he cries; 'Let courage female fears despise. _30 Or did she doubt my heart was brave, And therefore this injunction gave? Or does her harvest store the place, A treasure for her younger race? And would she thus my search prevent? I stand resolved, and dare the event.' Thus said. He mounts the margin's round, And pries into the depth profound. He stretched his neck; and from below With stretching neck advanced a foe: _40 With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears, The foe with ruffled plumes appears: Threat answered threat, his fury grew, Headlong to meet the war he flew, But when the watery death he found, He thus lamented as he drowned: 'I ne'er had been in this condition, But for my mother's prohibition.'
* * * * *
The rats by night such mischief did, Betty was every morning chid. They undermined whole sides of bacon, Her cheese was sapped, her tarts were taken. Her pasties, fenced with thickest paste, Were all demolished, and laid waste. She cursed the cat for want of duty, Who left her foes a constant booty. An engineer, of noted skill, Engaged to stop the growing ill. _10 From room to room he now surveys Their haunts, their works, their secret ways; Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade, And whence the nightly sally's made. An envious cat from place to place, Unseen, attends his silent pace. She saw, that if his trade went on, The purring race must be undone; So, secretly removes his baits, And every stratagem defeats. _20 Again he sets the poisoned toils, And puss again the labour foils. 'What foe (to frustrate my designs) My schemes thus nightly countermines?' Incensed, he cries: 'this very hour This wretch shall bleed beneath my power.' So said. A pond'rous trap he brought, And in the fact poor puss was caught. 'Smuggler,' says he, 'thou shalt be made A victim to our loss of trade.' _30 The captive cat, with piteous mews, For pardon, life, and freedom sues: 'A sister of the science spare; One interest is our common care.' 'What insolence!' the man replied; 'Shall cats with us the game divide? Were all your interloping band Extinguished, of expelled the land, We rat-catchers might raise our fees, Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!' _40 A cat, who saw the lifted knife, Thus spoke, and saved her sister's life: 'In every age and clime we see, Two of a trade can ne'er agree. Each hates his neighbour for encroaching; Squire stigmatises squire for poaching; Beauties with beauties are in arms, And scandal pelts each other's charms; Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone, In hope to make the world their own. _50 But let us limit our desires; Nor war like beauties, kings, and squires! For though we both one prey pursue, There's game enough for us and you.'
* * * * *
'Tis certain, that the modish passions Descend among the crowd, like fashions. Excuse me then, if pride, conceit, (The manners of the fair and great) I give to monkeys, asses, dogs, Fleas, owls, goats, butterflies, and hogs. I say that these are proud. What then? I never said they equal men. A goat (as vain as goat can be) Affected singularity. _10 Whene'er a thymy bank he found, He rolled upon the fragrant ground; And then with fond attention stood, Fixed o'er his image in the flood. 'I hate my frowsy beard,' he cries; 'My youth is lost in this disguise. Did not the females know my vigour, Well might they loathe this reverend figure.' Resolved to smoothe his shaggy face, He sought the barber of the place. _20 A flippant monkey, spruce and smart, Hard by, professed the dapper art; His pole with pewter basins hung, Black rotten teeth in order strung, Ranged cups that in the window stood, Lined with red rags, to look like blood, Did well his threefold trade explain, Who shaved, drew teeth, and breathed a vein. The goat he welcomes with an air, And seats him in his wooden chair: _30 Mouth, nose, and cheek the lather hides: Light, smooth, and swift the razor glides. 'I hope your custom, sir,' says pug. 'Sure never face was half so smug.' The goat, impatient for applause, Swift to the neighbouring hill withdraws: The shaggy people grinned and stared. 'Heyday! what's here? without a beard! Say, brother, whence the dire disgrace? What envious hand hath robbed your face?' _40 When thus the fop with smiles of scorn: 'Are beards by civil nations worn? Even Muscovites have mowed their chins. Shall we, like formal Capuchins, Stubborn in pride, retain the mode, And bear about the hairy load? Whene'er we through the village stray, Are we not mocked along the way; Insulted with loud shouts of scorn, By boys our beards disgraced and torn?' _50 'Were you no more with goats to dwell, Brother, I grant you reason well,' Replies a bearded chief. 'Beside, If boys can mortify thy pride, How wilt thou stand the ridicule Of our whole flock? Affected fool! Coxcombs, distinguished from the rest, To all but coxcombs are a jest.'
* * * * *
Who friendship with a knave hath made, Is judged a partner in the trade. The matron who conducts abroad A willing nymph, is thought a bawd; And if a modest girl is seen With one who cures a lover's spleen, We guess her not extremely nice, And only wish to know her price. 'Tis thus that on the choice of friends Our good or evil name depends. _10 A wrinkled hag, of wicked fame, Beside a little smoky flame Sate hovering, pinched with age and frost; Her shrivelled hands, with veins embossed, Upon her knees her weight sustains, While palsy shook her crazy brains: She mumbles forth her backward prayers, An untamed scold of fourscore years. About her swarmed a numerous brood Of cats, who, lank with hunger, mewed. _20 Teased with their cries, her choler grew, And thus she sputtered: 'Hence, ye crew. Fool that I was, to entertain Such imps, such fiends, a hellish train! Had ye been never housed and nursed, I, for a witch had ne'er been cursed. To you I owe, that crowds of boys Worry me with eternal noise; Straws laid across, my pace retard, The horse-shoe's nailed (each threshold's guard), _30 The stunted broom the wenches hide, For fear that I should up and ride; They stick with pins my bleeding seat, And bid me show my secret teat.' 'To hear you prate would vex a saint; Who hath most reason of complaint?' Replies a cat. 'Let's come to proof. Had we ne'er starved beneath your roof, We had, like others of our race, In credit lived as beasts of chase. _40 'Tis infamy to serve a hag; Cats are thought imps, her broom a nag; And boys against our lives combine, Because, 'tis said, you cats have nine.'
* * * * *
All upstarts insolent in place, Remind us of their vulgar race. As, in the sunshine of the morn, A butterfly (but newly born) Sat proudly perking on a rose; With pert conceit his bosom glows; His wings (all-glorious to behold) Bedropp'd with azure, jet, and gold, Wide he displays; the spangled dew Reflects his eyes, and various hue. _10 His now-forgotten friend, a snail, Beneath his house, with slimy trail Crawls o'er the grass; whom when he spies, In wrath he to the gard'ner cries: 'What means yon peasant's daily toil, From choking weeds to rid the soil? Why wake you to the morning's care, Why with new arts correct the year, Why glows the peach with crimson hue, And why the plum's inviting blue; _20 Were they to feast his taste design'd, That vermin of voracious kind? Crush then the slow, the pilfering race; So purge thy garden from disgrace.' 'What arrogance!' the snail replied; 'How insolent is upstart pride! Hadst thou not thus with insult vain, Provoked my patience to complain, I had concealed thy meaner birth, Nor traced thee to the scum of earth. _30 For scarce nine suns have waked the hours, To swell the fruit, and paint the flowers, Since I thy humbler life surveyed, In base, in sordid guise arrayed; A hideous insect, vile, unclean, You dragged a slow and noisome train; And from your spider-bowels drew Foul film, and spun the dirty clew. I own my humble life, good friend; Snail was I born, and snail shall end. _40 And what's a butterfly? At best, He's but a caterpillar, dress'd; And all thy race (a numerous seed) Shall prove of caterpillar breed.'
* * * * *
The husband thus reproved his wife: 'Who deals in slander, lives in strife. Art thou the herald of disgrace, Denouncing war to all thy race? Can nothing quell thy thunder's rage, Which spares no friend, nor sex, nor age? That vixen tongue of yours, my dear, Alarms our neighbours far and near. Good gods! 'tis like a rolling river, That murmuring flows, and flows for ever! _10 Ne'er tired, perpetual discord sowing! Like fame, it gathers strength by going.' 'Heyday!' the flippant tongue replies, How solemn is the fool, how wise! Is nature's choicest gift debarred? Nay, frown not; for I will be heard. Women of late are finely ridden, A parrot's privilege forbidden! You praise his talk, his squalling song; But wives are always in the wrong.' _20 Now reputations flew in pieces, Of mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces. She ran the parrot's language o'er, Bawd, hussy, drunkard, slattern, whore; On all the sex she vents her fury, Tries and condemns without a jury. At once the torrent of her words Alarmed cat, monkey, dogs, and birds: All join their forces to confound her; Puss spits, the monkey chatters round her; _30 The yelping cur her heels assaults; The magpie blabs out all her faults; Poll, in the uproar, from his cage, With this rebuke out-screamed her rage: 'A parrot is for talking prized, But prattling women are despised. She who attacks another's honour, Draws every living thing upon her. Think, madam, when you stretch your lungs, That all your neighbours too have tongues. _40 One slander must ten thousand get, The world with interest pays the debt.'
* * * * *
A sneaking cur, the master's spy, Rewarded for his daily lie, With secret jealousies and fears Set all together by the ears. Poor puss to-day was in disgrace, Another cat supplied her place; The hound was beat, the mastiff chid, The monkey was the room forbid; Each to his dearest friend grew shy, And none could tell the reason why. _10 A plan to rob the house was laid, The thief with love seduced the maid; Cajoled the cur, and stroked his head, And bought his secrecy with bread. He next the mastiff's honour tried, Whose honest jaws the bribe defied. He stretched his hand to proffer more; The surly dog his fingers tore. Swift ran the cur; with indignation The master took his information. _20 'Hang him, the villain's cursed,' he cries; And round his neck the halter ties. The dog his humble suit preferred, And begged in justice to be heard. The master sat. On either hand The cited dogs confronting stand; The cur the bloody tale relates, And, like a lawyer, aggravates. 'Judge not unheard,' the mastiff cried, 'But weigh the cause on either side. _30 Think not that treachery can be just, Take not informers' words on trust. They ope their hand to every pay, And you and me by turns betray.' He spoke. And all the truth appeared, The cur was hanged, the mastiff cleared.
* * * * *
'Is there no hope?' the sick man said. The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow. When thus the man with gasping breath; 'I feel the chilling wound of death: Since I must bid the world adieu, Let me my former life review. I grant, my bargains well were made, But all men over-reach in trade; _10
'Tis self-defence in each profession, Sure self-defence is no transgression. The little portion in my hands, By good security on lands, Is well increased. If unawares, My justice to myself and heirs, Hath let my debtor rot in jail, For want of good sufficient bail; If I by writ, or bond, or deed, Reduced a family to need, _20 My will hath made the world amends; My hope on charity depends. When I am numbered with the dead, And all my pious gifts are read, By heaven and earth 'twill then be known My charities were amply shown' An angel came. 'Ah, friend!' he cried, 'No more in flattering hope confide. Can thy good deeds in former times Outweigh the balance of thy crimes? _30 What widow or what orphan prays To crown thy life with length of days? A pious action's in thy power, Embrace with joy the happy hour. Now, while you draw the vital air, Prove your intention is sincere. This instant give a hundred pound; Your neighbours want, and you abound.' 'But why such haste?' the sick man whines; 'Who knows as yet what Heaven designs? _40 Perhaps I may recover still; That sum and more are in my will? 'Fool,' says the vision, 'now 'tis plain, Your life, your soul, your heaven was gain, From every side, with all your might, You scraped, and scraped beyond your right; And after death would fain atone, By giving what is not your own.' 'While there is life, there's hope,' he cried; 'Then why such haste?' so groaned and died. _50
* * * * *
Is there a bard whom genius fires, Whose every thought the god inspires? When Envy reads the nervous lines, She frets, she rails, she raves, she pines; Her hissing snakes with venom swell; She calls her venal train from hell: The servile fiends her nod obey, And all Curl's[4] authors are in pay, Fame calls up calumny and spite. Thus shadow owes its birth to light. _10 As prostrate to the god of day, With heart devout, a Persian lay, His invocation thus begun: 'Parent of light, all-seeing Sun, Prolific beam, whose rays dispense The various gifts of providence, Accept our praise, our daily prayer, Smile on our fields, and bless the year.' A cloud, who mocked his grateful tongue, The day with sudden darkness hung; _20 With pride and envy swelled, aloud A voice thus thundered from the cloud: 'Weak is this gaudy god of thine, Whom I at will forbid to shine. Shall I nor vows, nor incense know? Where praise is due, the praise bestow.' With fervent zeal the Persian moved, Thus the proud calumny reproved: 'It was that god, who claims my prayer, Who gave thee birth, and raised thee there; _30 When o'er his beams the veil is thrown, Thy substance is but plainer shown. A passing gale, a puff of wind Dispels thy thickest troops combined.' The gale arose; the vapour toss'd (The sport of winds) in air was lost; The glorious orb the day refines. Thus envy breaks, thus merit shines.
* * * * *
A fox, in life's extreme decay, Weak, sick, and faint, expiring lay; All appetite had left his maw, And age disarmed his mumbling jaw. His numerous race around him stand To learn their dying sire's command: He raised his head with whining moan, And thus was heard the feeble tone: 'Ah, sons! from evil ways depart: My crimes lie heavy on my heart. _10 See, see, the murdered geese appear! Why are those bleeding turkeys here? Why all around this cackling train, Who haunt my ears for chicken slain? The hungry foxes round them stared, And for the promised feast prepared. 'Where, sir, is all this dainty cheer? Nor turkey, goose, nor hen is here. These are the phantoms of your brain, And your sons lick their lips in vain.' _20 'O gluttons!' says the drooping sire, 'Restrain inordinate desire. Your liqu'rish taste you shall deplore, When peace of conscience is no more. Does not the hound betray our pace, And gins and guns destroy our race? Thieves dread the searching eye of power, And never feel the quiet hour. Old age (which few of us shall know) Now puts a period to my woe. _30 Would you true happiness attain, Let honesty your passions rein; So live in credit and esteem, And the good name you lost, redeem.' 'The counsel's good,' a fox replies, 'Could we perform what you advise. Think what our ancestors have done; A line of thieves from son to son: To us descends the long disgrace, And infamy hath marked our race. _40 Though we, like harmless sheep, should feed, Honest in thought, in word, and deed; Whatever henroost is decreased, We shall be thought to share the feast. The change shall never be believed, A lost good name is ne'er retrieved.' 'Nay, then,' replies the feeble fox, '(But hark! I hear a hen that clocks) Go, but be moderate in your food; A chicken too might do me good.'
* * * * *
The ranging dog the stubble tries, And searches every breeze that flies; The scent grows warm; with cautious fear He creeps, and points the covey near; The men, in silence, far behind, Conscious of game, the net unbind. A partridge, with experience wise, The fraudful preparation spies: She mocks their toils, alarms her brood; The covey springs, and seeks the wood; _10 But ere her certain wing she tries, Thus to the creeping spaniel cries: 'Thou fawning slave to man's deceit, Thou pimp of luxury, sneaking cheat, Of thy whole species thou disgrace, Dogs shall disown thee of their race! For if I judge their native parts, They're born with open, honest hearts; And, ere they serve man's wicked ends, Were generous foes, or real friends.' _20 When thus the dog, with scornful smile: 'Secure of wing, thou dar'st revile. Clowns are to polished manners blind, How ignorant is the rustic mind! My worth, sagacious courtiers see, And to preferment rise, like me. The thriving pimp, who beauty sets, Hath oft enhanced a nation's debts: Friend sets his friend, without regard; And ministers his skill reward: _30 Thus trained by man, I learnt his ways, And growing favour feasts my days.' 'I might have guessed,' the partridge said, 'The place where you were trained and fed; Servants are apt, and in a trice Ape to a hair their master's vice. You came from court, you say. Adieu,' She said, and to the covey flew.
* * * * *
A rake, by every passion ruled, With every vice his youth had cooled; Disease his tainted blood assails; His spirits droop, his vigour fails; With secret ills at home he pines, And, like infirm old age, declines. As, twinged with pain, he pensive sits, And raves, and prays, and swears by fits, A ghastly phantom, lean and wan, Before him rose, and thus began: _10 'My name, perhaps, hath reached your ear; Attend, and be advised by Care. Nor love, nor honour, wealth, nor power, Can give the heart a cheerful hour, When health is lost. Be timely wise: With health all taste of pleasure flies.' Thus said, the phantom disappears. The wary counsel waked his fears: He now from all excess abstains, With physic purifies his veins; _20 And, to procure a sober life, Resolves to venture on a wife. But now again the sprite ascends, Where'er he walks his ear attends; Insinuates that beauty's frail, That perseverance must prevail; With jealousies his brain inflames, And whispers all her lovers' names. In other hours she represents His household charge, his annual rents, _30 Increasing debts, perplexing duns, And nothing for his younger sons. Straight all his thought to gain he turns, And with the thirst of lucre burns. But when possessed of fortune's store, The spectre haunts him more and more; Sets want and misery in view, Bold thieves, and all the murd'ring crew, Alarms him with eternal frights, Infests his dream, or wakes his nights. _40 How shall he chase this hideous guest? Power may perhaps protect his rest. To power he rose. Again the sprite Besets him, morning, noon, and night! Talks of ambition's tottering seat, How envy persecutes the great, Of rival hate, of treacherous friends, And what disgrace his fall attends. The Court he quits to fly from Care, And seeks the peace of rural air: _50 His groves, his fields, amused his hours; He pruned his trees, he raised his flowers. But Care again his steps pursues; Warns him of blasts, of blighting dews, Of plund'ring insects, snails, and rains, And droughts that starved the laboured plains. Abroad, at home, the spectre's there: In vain we seek to fly from Care. At length he thus the ghost address'd: 'Since thou must be my constant guest, _60 Be kind, and follow me no more; For Care by right should go before.'
* * * * *
Two formal owls together sat, Conferring thus in solemn chat: 'How is the modern taste decayed! Where's the respect to wisdom paid? Our worth the Grecian sages knew; They gave our sires the honour due; They weighed the dignity of fowls, And pried into the depth of owls. Athens, the seat of learned fame, With general voice revered our name; _10 On merit, title was conferred, And all adored the Athenian bird.' 'Brother, you reason well,' replies The solemn mate, with half-shut eyes; 'Right. Athens was the seat of learning, And truly wisdom is discerning. Besides, on Pallas' helm we sit, The type and ornament of wit: But now, alas! we're quite neglected, And a pert sparrow's more respected.' _20 A sparrow, who was lodged beside, O'erhears them soothe each other's pride, And thus he nimbly vents his heat: 'Who meets a fool must find conceit. I grant, you were at Athens graced, And on Minerva's helm were placed; But every bird that wings the sky, Except an owl, can tell you why. From hence they taught their schools to know How false we judge by outward show; _30 That we should never looks esteem, Since fools as wise as you might seem. Would ye contempt and scorn avoid, Let your vain-glory be destroyed: Humble your arrogance of thought, Pursue the ways by Nature taught; So shall you find delicious fare, And grateful farmers praise your care: So shall sleek mice your chase reward, And no keen cat find more regard.' _40
* * * * *
Whene'er a courtier's out of place The country shelters his disgrace; Where, doomed to exercise and health, His house and gardens own his wealth, He builds new schemes in hopes to gain The plunder of another reign; Like Philip's son, would fain be doing, And sighs for other realms to ruin. As one of these (without his wand) Pensive, along the winding strand _10 Employed the solitary hour, In projects to regain his power; The waves in spreading circles ran, Proteus arose, and thus began: 'Came you from Court? For in your mien A self-important air is seen. He frankly owned his friends had tricked him And how he fell his party's victim. 'Know,' says the god, 'by matchless skill I change to every shape at will; _20 But yet I'm told, at Court you see Those who presume to rival me.' Thus said. A snake with hideous trail, Proteus extends his scaly mail. 'Know,' says the man, 'though proud in place, All courtiers are of reptile race. Like you, they take that dreadful form, Bask in the sun, and fly the storm; With malice hiss, with envy gloat, And for convenience change their coat; _30 With new-got lustre rear their head, Though on a dunghill born and bred.' Sudden the god a lion stands; He shakes his mane, he spurns the sands; Now a fierce lynx, with fiery glare, A wolf, an ass, a fox, a bear. 'Had I ne'er lived at Court,' he cries, 'Such transformation might surprise; But there, in quest of daily game, Each able courtier acts the same. _40 Wolves, lions, lynxes, while in place, Their friends and fellows are their chase. They play the bear's and fox's part; Now rob by force, now steal with art. They sometimes in the senate bray; Or, changed again to beasts of prey, Down from the lion to the ape, Practise the frauds of every shape.' So said, upon the god he flies, In cords the struggling captive ties. _50 'Now, Proteus, now, (to truth compelled) Speak, and confess thy art excelled. Use strength, surprise, or what you will, The courtier finds evasions still: Not to be bound by any ties, And never forced to leave his lies.'
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Those who in quarrels interpose, Must often wipe a bloody nose. A mastiff, of true English blood, Loved fighting better than his food. When dogs were snarling for a bone, He longed to make the war his own, And often found (when two contend) To interpose obtained his end; He gloried in his limping pace; The scars of honour seamed his face; _10 In every limb a gash appears, And frequent fights retrenched his ears. As, on a time, he heard from far Two dogs engaged in noisy war, Away he scours and lays about him, Resolved no fray should be without him. Forth from his yard a tanner flies, And to the bold intruder cries: 'A cudgel shall correct your manners, Whence sprung this cursed hate to tanners? _20 While on my dog you vent your spite, Sirrah! 'tis me you dare not bite.' To see the battle thus perplexed, With equal rage a butcher vexed, Hoarse-screaming from the circled crowd, To the cursed mastiff cries aloud: 'Both Hockley-hole and Mary-bone The combats of my dog have known. He ne'er, like bullies coward-hearted, Attacks in public, to be parted. _30 Think not, rash fool, to share his fame: Be his the honour, or the shame.' Thus said, they swore, and raved like thunder; Then dragged their fastened dogs asunder; While clubs and kicks from every side Rebounded from the mastiff's hide. All reeking now with sweat and blood, Awhile the parted warriors stood, Then poured upon the meddling foe; Who, worried, howled and sprawled below. _40 He rose; and limping from the fray, By both sides mangled, sneaked away.
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How many saucy airs we meet From Temple Bar to Aldgate Street! Proud rogues, who shared the South-Sea prey, And sprung like mushrooms in a day! They think it mean, to condescend To know a brother or a friend; They blush to hear their mother's name, And by their pride expose their shame. As cross his yard, at early day, A careful farmer took his way, _10 He stopped, and leaning on his fork, Observed the flail's incessant work. In thought he measured all his store, His geese, his hogs, he numbered o'er; In fancy weighed the fleeces shorn, And multiplied the next year's corn. A Barley-mow, which stood beside, Thus to its musing master cried: 'Say, good sir, is it fit or right To treat me with neglect and slight? _20 Me, who contribute to your cheer, And raise your mirth with ale and beer? Why thus insulted, thus disgraced, And that vile dunghill near me placed? Are those poor sweepings of a groom, That filthy sight, that nauseous fume, Meet objects here? Command it hence: A thing so mean must give offence' The humble dunghill thus replied: 'Thy master hears, and mocks thy pride: _30 Insult not thus the meek and low; In me thy benefactor know; My warm assistance gave thee birth, Or thou hadst perished low in earth; But upstarts, to support their station, Cancel at once all obligation.'
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Pythag'ras rose at early dawn, By soaring meditation drawn, To breathe the fragrance of the day, Through flowery fields he took his way. In musing contemplation warm, His steps misled him to a farm, Where, on the ladder's topmost round, A peasant stood; the hammer's sound Shook the weak barn. 'Say, friend, what care Calls for thy honest labour there?' _10 The clown, with surly voice replies, 'Vengeance aloud for justice cries. This kite, by daily rapine fed, My hens' annoy, my turkeys' dread, At length his forfeit life has paid; See on the wall his wings displayed, Here nailed, a terror to his kind, My fowls shall future safety find; My yard the thriving poultry feed, And my barn's refuse fat the breed.' _20 'Friend,' says the sage, 'the doom is wise; For public good the murderer dies. But if these tyrants of the air Demand a sentence so severe, Think how the glutton man devours; What bloody feasts regale his hours! O impudence of power and might, Thus to condemn a hawk or kite, When thou, perhaps, carniv'rous sinner, Hadst pullets yesterday for dinner!' _30 'Hold,' cried the clown, with passion heated, 'Shall kites and men alike be treated? When Heaven the world with creatures stored, Man was ordained their sovereign lord.' 'Thus tyrants boast,' the sage replied, 'Whose murders spring from power and pride. Own then this man-like kite is slain Thy greater luxury to sustain; For "Petty rogues submit to fate, That great ones may enjoy their state."'[5] _40