Æsopicks: or, A second collection of fables, paraphras'd in verse, adorn'd with sculpture, and illustrated with annotations. / By John Ogilby, esq; his Majesty's cosmographer, geographick printer, and master of revels in the kingdom of Ireland.

FAB. XLVI. Of the Fox and the Eagle.

SO fair the Morning, that you could not spy The smallest More in Heaven's great Crystal Ey•• And such the Halcyon, that in Phoebus Rays Light Attoms danc'd no Laborynthian Hays; Whilst the plum'd Quire to audit Winter Scores, And long neglected Love, call brisk Amours; Earth clad in Green, bids February flie, The warm Sun's gallant now in Gemini. When thus Sir Reynard's Heir, that hopeful Spark, His Mother cogs to wanton in the Park.

Give me, dear Mammy, leave a while to play On yonder Mantlings, this inviting day: How finely shines the Sun? how clear and warm? And I'll a Chicken from that neighboring Farm Perhaps convey, bearing a-pick a-pack, Like Daddie with a Gander on his Back.

Then she reply'd, Go Reynie, but beware L••st th' Eagle thee a further Voyage bear; I saw her truss a Lamb, so long did mark Her flying, that she lessned to a Lark; Thee it she light on, and thy little Prize, She'll carry to her Castle in the Skies,

[illustration] an eagle, with eaglets in her aerie, carries a foxcub in her beak. The fox's mother climbs the tree with a torch or firebrand in her mouth to set fire to the nest. In the background, the eagle snatches the foxcub while the mother fox runs after her.

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••here Chick and you she will together dress, ••••d her expecting Aiery so Caress. This said, the Wanton leaves their shadie Court, ••ution forgot, and onely follows Sport; Whom soon Mount-Eagle, more than Steeple high, ••••w, and descending from the Liquid Skie, ••iz'd on the heedless Cub, and thence conveys ••o Feast her Young, through Airs untracted Ways: ••he Bussle hearing, out Dame Ermelin flies, ••hus th' Eagle courting to forsake her Prize.

A Mother hear, since you a Mother are; ••ex not a frantick Female to Despair: ••y Son deliver, wave whate're your Claim, ••nd I'll present you with a tender Lamb, ••r else a Tortoise in the Shell I'll dress, ••hall better thee and thy fair Young Catess.

She neither her Complaints nor Proffers minds, ••ut to her Cedar Court out-strips the Winds, Where for their Shares her sharp-set Aiery gapes, ••oung Reynie wondring at their Indian Shapes.

But she, Mount-Eagle finding no remorse, Sudden resolves upon a desperate Course, And from th' High-Altar at Devotion stole A smoking Fire-brand, tipp'd with blazing Cole, Thence, wing'd with Rage, like Draco Volans, flies, And th' Eagles Palace grapples in the Skies:

Thus proffering Terms, Give me my Son, or Fire Shall make thy Lofty Seat a Funeral Pyre, Thy Off-spring and their Nest to Ashes burn, And if thou stay'st, thy Bones with them in-Urn.

Startled to see a blazing Weapon shine, Aloud she crys, Thy Off-spring I resign; Ask what thou wilt, and Articles prepare, And I will Sign them, whatsoe're they are: And who so long despis'd both Men and Gods, Shall pay thee Homage at thy own Aboads.

Dispatch then, Ermelin cries: She, soon as said, Young Reynie in his Mothers Bosom laid; Who joyful, told her he had been so far, That he had catch'd, almost, a Blazing-Star.

MORAL.

The Greedy onely his own Interest minds, Complaints lull him asleep, like murmuring Winds: Oft highest Spirits, when you put them to't, Fall prostitute as humbly at your Foot.