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.

AESOP'S FABLES.

The Second Part.

FAB. I. Of Juno and the Peacock.

THUS on his Patroness her Bird did call, O thou that Empress art of Heavens White∣hall, Whom all the Gods in their Star-Cham∣ber sate Court and Consult, like Jove, or sullen Fate:

Whom I so oft in Dangers hurry'd by Orion the grand Hector of the Sky, The mighty Dragon, Great and Lesser Bears, And all the Monsters in their several Spheres; Hear my Request, lest wanting your Relief, I suffocate with overcharging Grief.

Then Juno said, you my old Servant are, And long your Business well perform'd with Care; What e're you ask, assure your self of me, If feasible, if in my Power it be, If yet not granted by my Husband Jove, Nor any other Deity above: I owe you for your Service in that Night When all Heavens Houses set not out one Light, The Sky in Black to the Horizon hung, When in a Jealous Fit mad forth I flung,: Hadst thou not heard his Waves my Brother rate, Realms in Commotion forming to a State, We in the Hurly-burly had been dipt, And o're our Stern rebellious Surges shipt; When with a Canceleer thou drew'st to Land, Where his fine Mistress felt my heavy Hand: No more durst she me in my Bed supplant, Nor Jove, though arm'd with Thunder, her Gallant.

Her in good humor finding, the glad Bird Thus his Petition to Heaven's Queen preferr'd:

Now many Years have circling Periods fill'd, Since that the summon'd Gods a Council held, When Jove and you were Crown'd in Starrie Robes, O're the Coelestial and Terrestrial Globes,

Old Saturn fal'n, Cov'nanting Gyants slain, Government chang'd, began your Silver Raign: Then, Madam, I, commanded forth by you, Through Milky Paths your Golden Chariot drew, New Conquests visiting from Sphere to Sphere, In this your Livery, which now I wear, Lac'd with all Colours deck both Earth and Skies, Imbroider'd with an hundred Argus Eyes; Yet I would prouder be of coursest Rags, Than be the scorn of Linets, Stares, and Mags; My ill-set Musick Wrens and Robbins mock, Nay, Buzzards make my Notes their Laughing-stock. Oh grant me Philomels inchanting Voice, That I may You, and Gods, and Men rejoyce.

Then angry Juno, This no farther move, Peculiar Gifts long since were past by Jove▪ Perquisits, Fees, and their Emoluments, And ratified with all the Gods consents: To beg what is anothers Patent wave; They to the Eagle Strength, thee Beauty gave, The Raven Fate, the Crow Ill-luck to tell, Chief Chorister conferr'd on Philomel: Take heed lest I transform you to a Coot, And sure your Livery to your Note and Foot.

MORAL.

Some all Enjoyments slight; what they have not, Though mean the Augmentation, must be got: So those that in Felicity may dwell, In quest of Trifles make their Heaven a Hell.

FAB. II. Of the Ox and Dog in the Manger.

TO day this Ox gave more than ample Proofs Of patient Labor by his gravell'd Hoofs, His Back and Sides pink'd o're with netling Goads, Turning hard Gleab in Ridges wide as Roads; Who, late, and tyr'd, unyoak'd went to his Stall, Not doubting there he should to Supper fall, Seeing full Mangers, and his well-known Place, When up a Fury started in his Face, Jaws dropping Foam, his fierce Eyes darting Flame▪ A cursed Cur, Cromwell his loathed Name; Dutch Cromwell a vile Sooterkin his Sire, The Off-spring of a Stove and smothering Fire; Whom, e're the Nurse or Midwife could attach To stifle, pregnant made his Mothers Brach: She in her Pangs had all the Ufroes help, When her whole Litter prov'd this single Whelp, Who snarling kept the Ox thus at a bay, Not suff'ring him to touch one Lock of Hay.

Then said the troubled Ox, Pray Sir forbear, I know you stand for no Protector here;

[illustration] the ox confronts the dog in the manger, while their owner wields a cudgel.

Fab. 2.

Why then thus drive you me from Cates prepar'd? Who toil, from Victuals should not be debarr'd. Soon as the Dawn vermil'd her paler Brow, I and my Yoaks-mate Harness'd were at Plow, Where Clods and Stones we up in Furrows tore, Fallow had lain at least nine Years before: My Brother, quire wrought out, harrass'd, and tyr'd, Fainting, dropt down, and suddenly expir'd: They swore he fain'd, I sigh'd to see him fall, Yet Rest expected at his Funeral: But then our cruel Goader put me to A double Task, the Work that both should do.

I know you at your Master's Elbow wait, And seldom shift, I'me sure, an empty Plate; Know, in the Hall, Kitchen, and Larder, you, Besides your Vails, take more than what's your Due; How in the Beggars Dole you go a snip, And I have seen you miching after Sheep. Why drive you me then from my well-known Crib, And from what you disdain to touch, thus snib?

Who growling, thus reply'd: Erre, erre, I hate Wretches maintain themselves by Toil and Sweat: My Mother told me once, to her reproach, A Whelp she drew a little Todpoles Coach; No Idlers suffer'd in United Bogs, There they turn Spits, draw Water, Plow with Dogs: Those who are born to beat their Brains and Toil, Their Fortunes despicable are, and vile.

Whilst the poor Ox stood chewing a Reply, Their Master, well observing them, drew nigh, And with a Cudgel spiteful Cromwell bang'd, And after, for like Misdemeanors, hang'd.

MORAL.

Who others drive from that themselves not use, Those Dogs in Doublets, worse than Turks or Jews, Such cross-grain'd Curs, may they in want implore, Finding no Pity, Bread from Door to Door.

[illustration] the leopard, fox and donkey lying on its back, with a dead stag in front of a wood. Another stag is hunted in the background.

Fab. 3.

FAB. III. Of the Leopard, the Fox, and the Ass.

SOon as the Sun, Days glorious Lamp, arose, Nights glittering Guards retir'd to their Repose, The new-made Master of the Royal Game, Lord Leopard, to a Crystal Fountain came, Where he the Fox and Ass at Watering met, Not of his new Employment hearing yet; To whom he said▪ Conges forbear and Caps, I hate all Complements and Formal Fops; You are my Tenants, at this living Spring Let's Tope a while; A Health, here's to the King, Who last Night graciously my Warrant sign'd: You know my Place, but I'll to you be kind, Your former Walks shall all confirmed be, Onely my Secretary pay his Fee: And since the Morning smiles, no sign of change, Let's take the Air, and through the Forest range, And if by chance on a Fat Buck we fall, We'll share alike, and be Hail-fellows all. They take his Word, at the first Motion joyn'd, As if Indentures Tripartite were sign'd; And singling out a well-sed Deer they slew, Expecting, as agreed upon, their Due.

Then spake the Leopard in a rougher style, You Ass, come hither and divide the Spoil; Reynard's a cunning Snap; you may be Just: But ah! in this bad World whom shall we trust? When Beasts call'd Saints, that only have a Form Of Godliness, rage with a Greedy-worm.

The Ass Commission'd thus, as soon as said, The Quarrie out in three Divisions laid, His Honor then beseeching first to chuse. A while he pondering stood, as in a muse; Volleys of Oaths at last a Passage found, That made Earth tremble, and the Groves resound: Thus closing all; Now by the Lion's Head, Thou wert in some malignant City bred, Thus learn'st thou there to weigh out, slice, and mince Thus measur'd they Rebellion 'gainst their Prince, Dividing in the late unnatural Stirs The Lion's Ermin, and his Nobles Furs; Skinners on Stalls, took in their cruel Toils, Hung Panthers Vests, and Leopards gaudy Spoils. Thus raving, at the Innocent he flies: Soon guiltless Blood the salvage Monster dyes.

Then turning to the Fox, bids him divide: At his Friends Fortune strangely terrifi'd, Soon as the Shares he up in one could get, Himself and them casts humbly at his Feet: Who smiling said, The Court you understand, And Great Ones Power well as Law-Cases scan'd: How could you hit, at what he shot so wide?

I took my aim from him, the Fox reply'd;

Here lies the President shall bear your Cause, And fetch you off with Honor and Applause In any Court, prove this a mild Rebuke, And how the sawcie Beast himself mistook.

Then said the Leopard, You to purpose speak, Lay the whole Burthen on the Asses Back; Then shall the Country, and the City too, Bring thee more Work than all Inns can do: For such a Lawyer, active, wise, and stout, That labors well, can bring what's what about, Blanch Crows, turn Cat in Pan a thousand ways, Who will not such to Wealth and Honor raise? But he whoe're to this Fat Buck pretends, Had better, Dam Me, eat his Trotters ends.

MORAL.

'Tis dangerous to deal with Hect••ring Lords, That seldom pay but such as carry Swords; Bonds, Bills, not signifie; when sure's the Debt If due at l'Hombre, or a Game at Beat.

FAB. IV. Of the Fox and the Porcupine.

SIr Reynard's Pregnant Madam now grown big, Long'd to eat Swines Flesh, Bacon, Pork, or Pig, T' inspect the Haslet and the bleeding Heart, Else with her quickning Embryo she must part. Thus hastned forth, to store with fresh Supplies His fainting Wife, a Porcupine he spies; Then joyful, said, What need I farther prog? Yon Urchin, that small Parcel of a Hog Will ease her Fit: But how shall I take in This Armorers Hall, this thwack'd up Magazin? To Storm a Fort so Fortifi'd, decline; When Reynard thus began to undermine.

Oft have I seen you, Sir, and wondred long, How like an Army Forty thousand strong You brandish't Pikes, Shafts ready drawn to shoot, Would dim the Sun, and rout both Horse and Foot; Such moving Towers, that so could Jav'lins spend, The Lion's Army might entrench'd defend.

Had th' Okeland Fleet in every Vessel two Such Engins, Quivers could unload like you, Useless were bouncing Broad-sides, without noise Decks would be clear'd of big-bon'd Belgick Boys.

[illustration] the fox encounters the porcupine under a tree by a road. There are craggy hills in the background.

Fab. 4.

But why where Quiet reigns, in such a Heat Walk you the sultry Streets in Arms compleat? Sweat with a Load would break a Camels Back? When your grand Cutters, and your greatest Heck, On each Punctilio fight as they would Play, And lightly Arm'd with Whittles, Kill and Slay. Divided Parties after a thrown Glass, About a Straw, a Feather, or a Lass, Fiercely engage, and, warm with Gallick Bouls, Tap with Steel Spigots one anothers Souls. Olt as by Night Glass Windows go to wrack, When they the Watch and Constable attack, Though Fractures happen, and Brains beaten out, Th' are not so often Routed, as they Rout.

But the French Ape the Urchin Turk o're-threw, Each loaden with a Magazeen like you; Your Jeffreys mounted with short Swords and Dags, Clear'd the Campagne of Silver-crescent Flags: Wear, Sir, a Vest, like Persons of your Note, A golden Bauldrick over-thwart your Coat, Which from Affronts you better shall secure: This Load once laid aside, you'll ne're endure.

VVhen thus the surly Porcupine replies; I smell a Fox; stand farther I advise! No nearer draw! You like a Bailiff look, And I stand charg'd upon the Taylor's Book.

I that have made of Alleys and By-ways, Maps of this City, and no mean Essays Of Places Privileg'd, each Nook and Lane, A VVar Defensive better to maintain,

Hardly will now into Arrest be gull'd, By Dogs in Doublets to the Counter pull'd: A Red-beard Sergeant, Pewter-button'd too! More cruel are than Devil, Turk, or Jew.

MORAL.

Those subtlest are, best know how to Trepan Into Belief the Apprehensive Man: Yet oft their Labors but small Audits make, Dash'd by some Surly Fool, or gross Mistake.

[illustration] the stork and a fox, dressed as gentlemen, talk by a lake where two swans swim. Trees and a large house are the background.

Fab. 5.

FAB. V. Of the Swan and the Stork.

THat Formal Fowl, that Grand Canary-Bird, Who first in our so late Rebellion stirr'd; Prime Leader of the Hypocritick Crew, Who Swearing hate, as much as telling True; Th' Antimonarchical Republick Stork, Steps forth be-moded, now your only Spark; His Steeple-Hat reduc'd, and treacherous Ruff, To a Low-Crown, short Sword, Vest, Coat, and Muff; Struck into fresh Imployment, new his Place Chang'd, with his Habit, Character, and Face: Who after Scepter-rifling, Wealthy grown, His Nest well Feather'd, Pluming of the Crown; The long-bill'd Bird his old Note changing, sings, I am the King's Canary-Bird! the King's! Who stalking through the Strand, thus to a Swan Meeting by chance, facetiously began.

O my kind Foe, my old Antagonist, We shall no more enter the Wrangling Lift, And there in hot Disputes, and testie Jars, Fight Tooth and Nail, the Stork's and Eagle's Wars: I in those Counter-scussles play'd the Wag, Dang'rous to whisper then, what now I brag;

I sent the King good store of Plate and Coin, From Friends collected, and no small part Mine; And now in Trust am with my Gracious Prince:

But what Preferment, Friend, may yours be since: Your Loyal Pen not only merits Praise, But some Preferment, well as VVind and Bays.

Who thus reply'd, I'm glad you look so brisk; No danger running now the Royal Risk: Your Garb and Weeds are alter'd much! How big Your Storkship looks, Owl'd in a Periwig! But wearing Time makes Alterations strange, And to Extremes Fashions and Humors change.

What Crimes were Love-locks and Long Hair of late▪ When who-e're came before a Magistrate, Proud of exuberant Curles, his Cause, what-e're, Till those he had reform'd, they would not hear. That Frenzie o're, these Persecutors were Themselves not onely for a Cap of Hair, But ranker Harvests reapt from Damsels Heads, Curl'd Tresses flowing to their Girdle-steads: And some believe, E're long, who looks not big Before the Peruqu'd Bench, Wig facing Wig, Shall run th' old Ruffians Risk, his Knights o' th' Post And good Cause larded well with Bribes, be lost.

But as for me, and Swan's Affairs, the Thames Few Signets breeds, low run his famous Streams; Banks once resounding Notes more sweet and higher Than Rome e're boasted, or the Grecian Quire, Ring with Rhyme-dogrel, Travestes so loose, They would not serve a Ballad-gagling Goose.

No Heats of Love, no Points of Honor rage, But soft alternate Whinings cool the Stage; Debosh'd Nocturnals belch'd by toping Owls, Decoy in Flocks both Court and City Fowls, VVhere Hect'ring Castrils 'mongst young Merlins sit, Admiring Non-sense, little, or no VVit.

And you, Sir Stork, that hated once a Play, As Fiends, and Birds of Night to see the Day, Grin at chang'd Scenes, and edifying Jokes, Mongst Knighted Daws, and Parlimental Flocks.

Then said the Stork, Birds of my Coat and Feather, Like Steeple-cocks, turn round with wind and weather; And I that late at Diractories sate, Hearing demurely tedious Pulpit-prate, Am pleas'd with VVit, and Sanctifie as well VVhen pretty Ducklings Dance like Mis or Nell.

I care not, so my self not tumble down, VVho gets the Best, the Copper or the Crown: All VVinds serve us, we Tack to every Port; Committee- Birds Canary now at Court.

Kings Chambers open lie; the Eagle Knights Daws, Rooks, and Owls, 'mongst gentle Falcons, Kites.

MORAL.

Princes should cast a serene Look on all; But if Preferments on the wrong side fall, Those who present them, lesser they should trust: Kings ne're, but Favorites may be unjust.

FAB. VI. Of the Cramm'd Capons and the Lean one.

COck-chickens, Mars his Brood, Birds of the Gam By Decastration freed from Venus Flame, And Duel-heats; no more these little Heeks Spurs yet but burgeon'd use, or tender Beaks, Disputing senseless Jars on slender scores, For Crums, a Barley-Corn, or vain Amours: But penn'd up, live an Abby-Lubber's Life, Where to be Fattest was their onely strife: With Rice and Reasons cramm'd in several Pastes, Large Capons strut with Hogen Mogen Wastes; Whose Leg Pierce Plowman would a Meal afford, Life Brussels Breed, or a Geneva Bird!

Yet one of these, Jean de Capoon, who made Them all the sport, grew pensative and sad; Feasts feed not him, he dwindling pines away, Fearing that Scores would be, and Sawce to pay; This took all Rellish from his Cates and Jokes: When Jack-a-Lent, mop't like a John-a-Nokes, The Corpulent Fraternity thus charg'd:

What ail'st thou, that with us still over-gorg'd, Liv'st at full Pleasure in plenteous Coop, Yet like the Picture dost of Famin droop?

[illustration] a man and woman stand in front of a large building looking at lean and fat hens.

Fab. 6.

Since cur'd of Love, which keeps poor Mortals low, Why lookst thou like a Rook, or Carrion Crow? Thy Mirth, that fed us more than all our Feasts, So inabusive, and such savorie Jests, No clincht Dry-bobs, nor borrow'd Good Wits jump; Lies silenc'd in a Melancholy dump.

Who now grown serious, gravely thus reply'd; The Steward Audits will for us provide: He must be backwards read, if understood; His Treatments signifie your Flesh and Blood: He on our Bodies and Estates will fall, And bring us under Praemunire all. Oft in he peeps, and counts us with his Staft; You may, but I small reason see to laugh: In his sow'r Looks I read some dire Design, Which makes poor John to languish thus, and pine.

Just as he spake, the Major Domo comes, At one breath thus pronouncing all their Dooms. Grannie, these Capons must one Charger fill; That Rascal spare, but all the fat ones kill.

My Lord to morrow a Grand Monsieur Treats, That Dish'd like Larks, on Chapoones Boulie cats: But we must have an Oleo, and a Bisk, For Fin-fan Madam, and fastideous Brisk, Potages, Grounds for Sawce, will cost my Lord What a whole Month would keep a Country Board: Chick-peepers must be had, all sorts of Squabs, For our Dames Gallants, and his Lady-Drabs; They for sweet Change upon each other wink: Whilst Rents comes slowly in, thus flies the Chink.

This said, he Exits, huffing with a Curse, Whilst to make ready hobbles Granny Nurse.

Poor Capon John, though for his Brethren sad, This short Survey of both their Fortunes made.

MORAL.

A Short Life, and a Merry, many cry, Yet curse Rich Wine and Surfeits e're they die. Others Long Poverly spin out till Age, Their Lives whole Business searce worth one Potage.

[illustration] a fox is just visible in a dense wood. In the background, a man on horseback rides in a field.

Fab. 7.

FAB. VII. Of the Fox and Bush.

SWains forth, and Masters, Lords and Tenants, drawn, Fox hall beleaguer'd e're the purpling Dawn; ••esolv'd for Injuries both to Man and Beast, Themselves with Sport and sweet Revenge to Feast.

Reynard Alarum'd, feeling shady Roofs ••aken with Clamors, Dogs, and thundring Hoofs, With mazing Terror struck, Life at the stake, ••o use could of his Quirks and Quidits make; ••e that his Country-Neighbors kept in awe, With Fox-fur only, and the Name of Law;

Court too, so much Power and Interest gain'd, ••hat some said Reynard, not the Lion Reign'd; Who hanging on the King by either Ear, ••ade Isgrim wait, Bruin his Dancing Bear, ••ttending when his Leisure would vouchsafe ••hey, or their Clients might admittance have: Who now from beat-up Quarters takes his flight, ••nd a Course shews them twenty Miles out-right.

To him much tir'd, his Spirits almost spent, A sheltring Bush her self seems to present; Thorn-Castle, in for safety he retires, Forcing his Passage through a stand of Briers, With some small bussle, and a little scratch, Mastering a surlie and assiduous Watch: Who when Pursuers he no more could hear, His Wits recovering, stupified with Fear, Thus threatned he the Captain of the Fort;

Of your Behaviour I'll inform the Court. How dare you keep a Privy-Couns'lor out, When open lies to Robbers your Redoubt? Town-Bulls and Goats by you unquestion'd, Sin, And make this Brothel-house their constant Inn; To those shun Justice, or the King's Impress, You grant Protection in this dark Recess: But Loyal Subjects, when pursu'd by Foes, Thus to their cruel Mercy you expose.

To whom the Captain of the Castle spake, You are Sir Reynard, if I not mistake; Such Counsellors the Lion may have store: To take the Scepter, you advis'd the Boar, His Brawny Shields with Ermine to infold, And Swinish Temples Crown with Sacred Gold; That Writs and Pleas might run as erst they were, No matter who contaminates the Chair! What Dog, what cursed Cur, or Hell-hound Raign So Lawyers Props and Timber-work remain'd.

Scorn your Threats; and though my Spear fell short, Wish thee all these Javelins in thy Heart.

MORAL.

The Proud and Rich, Death knocking at their Gates, for a Horse will offer their Estates: Fear once o're, they to themselves return, suming soon their former Pride and Scorn.

FAB. VIII. Of the Fox and the Crow.

THis Crow a dainty piece of Cheese had nimm'd Most Authors say, all of New-milk unskimm▪•• But of what kind, or sort, scarce one agrees, Whether our Home-made, or else Forein Cheese: Yet both Sides hearken to a Reverend Bard, Who Cambrian stiles the Theft, so rank and hard, Since it not melted in her Watty Mouth, 'Mongst humid Vapors, and the Wind at South; And Smell, which through the ambient Air convey To Reynard's Nostrils, so quick Passage made; Whose Nose at random mounted, thence he hies, And running, plots how to obtain the Prize: Nor long he for the Crow nor Morsel search'd, But sound her on a Branching Alder pearch'd.

To whom he said, O thou most Heavenly Fair Whose Plumes like Peacocks Trains, or Rainbows Th' Embroider'd Lights and Shadows of thy Win Richer than Coronation Suits of Kings! I thought you Black, when in a Mourning Gown And Vizard-mask you lately came to Town:

[illustration] the fox talks to the crow, who is sitting in a tree, with a large piece of cheese in its beak.

8

But now that Shade and envious Curtain drawn, So Venus glitters ushering in the Dawn.

Ah could you sing! To these add Heavenly Notes, I should procure you both the Houses Votes To be the King's White Crow; He keeps fine Birds, That please him with new Songs, and well-set Words, When he from burthening Care himself unloads: Musick and Beauty conquer Men and Gods.

But, Madam, if at no such Heights you aim At first to soar, yet covetous of Fame, You, I'll my self, and all my Friends engage, To make the Prop and Glory of the Stage, Where in the Comick and the Tragick Scene, You Women shall undo, as well as Men: Those Days you Act, what Worlds will there resort, Both from the Country, City, and the Court?

The fond Bird at the Court and Stages Name, Streight dreamt her self a Beauty of the Game, The Glory of the Scene, the King's White Bird; Why may not she he married to a Lord?

Thus wandring in her own Fools Paradise, Offering to Sing, down drops the savorie Slice, Which Reynard seiz'd, streight swallowing as his own; Then said, Foul Witch, in that French Russet Gown, Thought'st thou thy self the Phoenix? Ugly Toad! More like Old Nick's Niece in that mouldy Hood.

This said, he fleering, leaves her full of woe, Remembring then her self a Carrion Crow.

MORAL.

Flattery wide Doors to Climbing Spirits ••opes, ••ath their Scorn the seem all former Hopes: Dreaming, to Great Preferments they aspire: Awak'd, with Dan, th' are Stabled in the Mire.

[illustration] the young crab and her mother above a beach overlooking a natural harbour or bay. Ships sail in the bay. A harbour town is visible in the background.

Fab 9.

FAB. IX. Of the Crab and her Mother.

HAd ever Hielding Crabat such a Miene? Still hobling side-ward, thy foul Claws turn'd in! Base Maggots in a Magnifying Glass, Mongst Chedar Common-wealths, more comely Pace, Conducting busie Mites from Grange to Grange, Forts raising, or to build their New Exchange.

How wouldst thou of Step-stately Ladies learn To raise a Dust, trailing thy Silken Stern, Couldst thou but get into the City-Vain, To trip up Maiden, or down Mincing-Lane! I might be pleas'd with such a decent Sight, Though Modesty be out of fashion quite.

Thus Beldam Crab her Crablin Daughter chid, Because she hirpl'd as her Mother did.

When thus her ill-pac'd Little-one reply'd; Still you lie Baiting, always Braul and Chide: Examples are best Precepts; Talk's but Talk: Leave finding fault, and shew me how to Walk.

The Mother then, Daughter, y' are very short; Though Blows more fit than Words are to retort,

I'll take Advice: Come, bridle close your Chin, Thrust out your Breast, and keep your Belly in.

When I was Young, and Little, as thou art, I led a Bevie fir'd by Cupid's Dart, From Mountain-seats, to pay accustom'd Scores In Thetis Watry Court to brisk Amours; With steady and Majestick Pace we walk'd, Nor Precipices, Rocks, nor Rivers balk'd, Ne're deviating Step, till in the Main Brisk Males attending us did entertain.

Come, follow me; I once did learn to Dance, Walk'd stately Measures that ne're came from France The Fairy Court admir'd me, and Queen Mab Grew Jealous, though grown now a wither'd Crab: So! to the Right, nor to the Left-hand swerve, But me your Mother punctually observe.

Th' old Beldam thus, Hip-shotten and Bunch-back▪ Deny'd by Nature Amble, Trot, or Rack, Her Daughter taught; to whom at last she said, You tread awry, and I move Retrograde; My Steps like yours, as Coin drops from the Mint, With like Impressions yielding Sand imprint: But if my Observations be true, Court-Madams waddle now like me or you; Who should Exemplars be, give others Rules, Waving Formalities of Boarding-Schools, Taking proud Freedom, scorn restraintive Law, Like Ships in Storms at Anchor rowl and Yaw.

No more 'gainst me and my Behavior Preach; First Learn your self, and then your Daughter teach.

Who best are stor'd with Ignorance and Pride, Most others Imbecilities deride.

MORAL.

Age, Youth instructs, Vices whate're to shun, Whilst Children o're their Parents Footsteps run: Mothers their Daughters in the Oven find Where once they hid: and, Cat will after Kind.

FAB. X. Of the Bald Man and the Fly.

THe Sun and Syrius in Combustion joyn'd, Broyl'd Rivers, and gave fiery Breath to Wind; Whilst sultry Atoms moving from the South, The Air inflam'd, as from an Ovens Mouth; Which Heat on Broody Moisture Insects forms, Buzzing about on Sarc'net Wings in Swarms.

A weary Swain with sweltring Beams grown faint, Ready almost in his own Brine to taint, Down in a Checquering Bower and Fret-work Shade Sate to repose, and by his Bonnet laid, Rubs his high Forehead, where once had been Hair, Now many Lustres Oberon's Bowling Bare; Where 'mongst the fringing Purlues oft Queen Mab, VVith her Gallant Pigwiggen play'd the Drab.

On this strange Spectacle Sir Cranion look'd, As on a Calves-head in the Shambles Cook'd, By Heat, and Drought, and Phaebus busie Raies, Made fit for his impregnating Essaies. The Fly in high Case, novel Beauty warms; They Death and Danger slight, that Cupid arms.

[illustration] a man shelters from bright sunshine in the shade of a tree.

Fab: 10.

The fierce Amour falls on like Mad or Drunk, And eager thrusts in his bane-breathing Trunk.

The Swain at once a tickling felt, and smart, From Poyson of th' injected venom'd Dart; Plotting Revenge, the Fly how to dispatch, At once the Criminal Punish and Attach, He lifts his Hand up softly, with a Rap To dissipate him like a Butcher's Flap; Which coming down swift as the Ax and Lead That falls upon the Malefactor's Head: Yet he on Wings expanded makes Escape, Triumphing at the Bravery of the Rape, And that the Rustick he had so trepann'd, To make him hurt himself with his own Hand.

Then said the Swain, Laugh'st thou that thee I mist, Bruising my Forehead with my falling Fist▪ If I had catch'd thee, I had beat as flat Thy Boneless Body as a limber Groat; Thou that hast drunk my Blood, and pierc'd my Flesh, And thus insult'st, hadst now been made a Mesh.

Who thus reply'd, Such Swains, be who thou wilt, I scorn, not able their bald Crowns to quilt: Old Daws and wrinkled Rooks here sheath their Heads In Life-hair Peruques to their Girdle steads: But you with unthatch'd Sconce, give thanks to Fate, That I have done my Business on your Pate; Be sure your empty Noddle now is sped, You ne're shall want a Maggot in your Head,

There you will find Ingredients, that shall Tickle your addle Brains both Spring and Fall.

MORAL.

When you enrag'd, Revenge for Injuries plot, Take special care your self you Injure not; Lest Scoffers fall on you with less remorse Than those that can with Jeering kill a Horse.

[illustration] a man beats an ox with a cudgel under a tree. In the background, an ox stands with a crowd at an altar in front of a italianate round temple.

Fab 11.

FAB. XI. Of the Rustick and his Ox.

OH most despiteful and unworthy Beast! What, wilt thou never work, yet always Feast? There must be Audits, if you'll nothing do; Or Sweat, or Pay: Why, who are you, Sir? you! Go'st thou not daily to the Eyes in Grass? What, must your Dung for Satisfaction pass? Are not your Mangers stuff'd? brim-full your Cribs? Ill fetch my Pen worths from these Larded Ribs. Thus said the Swain to his Rebellious Ox, Who Butts for Blows returns, and Spurns for Knocks.

Then spake the Beast, Art not asham'd to beat Me for not Working, and our Master Cheat? How can they Service do that want their Pay, Fed with Dank Provender and Musty Hay? Whilst I am sterv'd, like one of Pharoh's Kine, What should my Belly fill, your Coffers line. But this not all the Quarrel, though all truth; Thou rob'st me of my Dowcets in my Youth, Which odious Injury so ill I brook, That now stand by, forsooth, and onely look,

I could well wish, such my Revenge should be, Day through both Sides thy treach'rous Heart may see▪

Brave are those Flames that kindle in the Male, Viewing a beauteous Heifer in the Vale; Sure 'tis a Heavenly War, delightful Rage, When Bulls, spurr'd on by Rivalship, engage! The Herds amazed stand, the Grove resounds, The bellowing Hectors dealing Wounds for Wounds

By this I might have been the Parson's Bull, And like him round, Choice Beauties pick and cull; Had sweet-breath'd Wives, & black-ey'd Concubine And a fair Issue sprung from my own Loyns, Who now thus live a solitary Life, Barr'd from the dear Enjoyments of a Wife.

Then said the Swain, Fond Beast, is that the Cause How many know I, could they find a Clause To be divorc'd, their whole Estates would spend, Who see now of their Miseries no end! Hadst thou a curst Cow, though her Horns were shor•• Evening a Morn she'll gore thee to the Heart, Ne're let thee rest, until Commanding All, She Rule at Rack and Manger in thy Stall. Know thou dull Lump, know inconsiderate Ox, I have a Wise, am Married with a Pox; Who never resting, either Ear alarms With sudden Tempests, and assiduous Storms; At Promises and Marriage-Vows she spurns, To Rogue and Rascal, Lord and Master turns;

As Law and Gospel her own Will translates: Cold Comforts freeze my Bed, and Frost my Cates; That I believe thee happier in thy Stall, Than I with such a Partner in my Hall.

Once I her Baitings not so well could brook, Long-suffering Patience over-power'd, I struck; My Hand rais'd high, and with a knotty Crab, At once to Humble and Chastise the Drab: Tipsied with Ale, slipp'ry the Floor, I fell, And streight the Devil my Wife mounts Michael: Ne're lay faln Husband so be-Belzebub'd; My Cheeks she Rubrick'd, and my Temples drubb'd My Head new moulding, pummell'd into Pap: Mobbled nine days in my Considering-Cap, Before my Eyes beheld the blessed Day, Mourning in Black and Blue, on Flocks I lay; Thus sighing oft, I better ten to one, Though Arm'd with Ale, had let the Fiend alone: Whilst Skimmington my nearest Neighbor strode A manag'd Coll-staff, and in Penance rode. But one not serves your turn, a single Spouse, One Devil is too little for your House, You for a Legion are. Ah! hadst thou half Of mine, and shar'dst my Miseries, sensless Calf, Thou smarting, worse than bitten by a Gad, Wouldst, bellowing, thy Country fly Horn mad. But since such Paradoxes you dispute, Art such a Rebell, and a Fool to boot, I'll beat new Principles into thy Pate, Shall from course Flesh thy duller Soul translate;

Since Decastration will not mend thy Head, Death shall, much better than my Marriage-bed.

MORAL.

Dull are intestine Wars, and Civil Strife, To loud Divisions betwixt Man and Wife; Gentle Usurpers, mild the Tyrants Rod, To a Smock-rampant, and to be Hen-trod.

[illustration] the grasshopper petitions the ant, surrounded by smaller ants in front of a hollow treetrunk.

12

FAB. XII. Of the Ant and the Grashopper.

THe King of Ant-hill, and Pismirian Lords, Each mounted on their own peculiar Hoards, Sate so distinguish'd, Earls, Marquees, and Dukes: And not by Blazonry in Heralds Books, Where Worthy Sires produce less Worthy Sons, Such as long Patience teach unwearied Duns, At base Mechanicks sawciness admire, Just Debts beseeching, Ruin'd by the Fire; Who scorn all Principles accounted Just, ••ndulging Sloth, Pride, Ignorance, and Lust. But these advanc'd by Industry and Care, Were to themselves both Ancestor and Heir; Their Purchase for th' ensuing Winters Store, ••ntitled them to Honors less or more.

An Envoy from the Grashopperian States, Thus had Conven'd these Petty Potentates, When to the Monarch, and his small Devan, Thus humbly their Ambassador began.

Anthillian Sovereign, and Emettian Peers, Enrich'd with Wealth from Ceres Golden Ears; Who in these Penetralia's under Ground Not hear rough Winter-flaws nor Storms resound,

Nor Prices minding of rais'd Wood and Coals, Sit warm, and feasting, cocker up your Souls: Live happy still, and be for ever blest, So you will pitty a poor State distrest, Who had, while Summer lasted, plenteous Boards, Meads, Flowrie Vallies, of their own accords Serv'd up choice Cates; but when the Sun declin'd, And Days did up in shorter Periods wind, Ushering cold Blasts, and bleak Autumnal Showers, Which Trees disrob'd of Leaves, Fields of their Flow∣ers▪ Winters approach threatning to ruin all, Discharg'd upon us Jove's cold Arsenal; All Forage thus destroy'd, all Green below Left naked, Penanc'd in cold Sheets of Snow; All sorts of Herbage, Fruit whatever, Corn, Are in by Peasants or your People born: Assistance from your Granaries we crave, Let not a Nation perish, you may save; For which next Harvest they will make return, Our lusty Long-shanks shall help in your Corn: Thus grateful they propose to pay their Score, And double by their Pains your next Years Store.

When the Anthillian Heroe thus reply'd, In Summer we 'gainst Winter-storms provide: How could you golden Harvest idly spend? Could you believe those Joys would never end?

Who thus return'd; Sir, we were over-reach'd, By one to us New-fangled Doctrine teach'd, Holding forth, Phoebus our Protector would Translate us from all Hunger, Thirst, and Cold,

To Aegypt, and the fruitful Banks of Nile, To endless Feastings, without Care or Toil. So we him treated, and in Sunshine sung, Living as Merry as the Day was long, Expecting when a Western Wind would rise, Should bear us to our promis'd Paradise: But when the Time and long'd-for Hour was come, That we believ'd should be the Day of Doom, No Storm appear'd, no thick condensed Crack, With Thunder rose, Heavens Turrets to attack; But prov'd all Fair, so universal Clear, That Day stands Crown'd the Glory of the Year: Nor more our false Enthusiast we beheld, Who us to this sad Embassie compell'd.

When thus the King to the starv'd Envoy said, We know no Manufacture, use no Trade, In Spring we Sowe not, nor in Winter Reap, Yet stuff'd our Granges are, our Markets cheap; Rather than we would Prince implore, or State, Or hang poor Clients at an Emperor's Gate, I and my swarthy Legions should not spare Alcinous Fruit, but Camps re-victual there, Hort-yards o're-run; our Bowels never yearn At havock made, minding our own Concern; Choice Plants & Flowers destroy, we ne're make halt, Unless we Scalding Water feel, or Salt.

Say to your Lords, I not deplore their Chance; You that in Summer Sung, in Winter Dance; So fill your Bellies, so your Bodies arm, 'Gainst Wants approaching, and th' ensuing Storm.

Begone, who to Phanaticks Credit give, Fifth-Monarchy People I shall ne're relieve; Besides, you term your selves a State Distrest, Antimonarchal Locusts I detest.

MORAL.

Some always Feast, make Court, Sing, Play, and Dan•••• And never fear the Turns of fickle Chance: Provide for Age, whilst Young get Lands and Money, Lest Old and Poor, the Dogs do piss upon ye.

[illustration] Two foxes sit, forepaws raised, watching the conversation between the ox and the steer in a cattle-field by small farmhouses.

13

FAB. XIII. Of the Ox and Steer.

THus to a Labouring Ox turn'd out to feed, Himself recruiting in a Verdant Mead, In Railery a well-fed Bullock said, Welcom, old Uncle, you drive on your Trade; Whilst I in sweetest Grass keep Fat and Plump, Your Ribs like Billows threat your Rocky Rump: Why waste you thus your self, and health destroy, Sweating for that which others must enjoy? Fill up your hollow Flanks, and craggy Chine; Feast all the Evening, all the Morning Dine; Powder your Hair sullied with Sweat and Dust, Nor more with Back and Belly run a Trust; And though unfit to get your self an Heir, Keep Company with Heifers fat and fair; Them, and their Town-Bulls, bellowing Hectors, treat, So your Executors what-e're defeat: And me 'mongst Madam white-fac'd Calves invite, Spending your Lives remainder in Delight.

When gravely thus the sober Ox reply'd; Thus the Industrious, Idle Beasts deride: Each guzling Bulchin, Baffle headed Calf, At all Endeavors whatsoever laugh;

Business they hate, pursuing no Design, But what concerns the Belly, or the Groyn: Rather than I my precious Time would waste, And winged Minutes spur, that fly too fast, Lead to Spring-Garden, Mulberry Shades, and Parks, Vizard-mask'd Heifers, and their pye-bald Sparks, Proud giggling Females still unveil'd attend, And be on Duty, my Estate to spend, I would endure both stinging Flies and Goads, And Yoak'd, hot Summers draw in dusty Roads.

Whilst gravely thus discours'd the Lab'ring Ox, The Lion's Purveyors, the Wolf and Fox, The Prey surveying, to each other spake;

Leave that lean Sterveling, the fat Bullock take, He will become the Boyler and the Spit, Or Barrell'd, help to furnish out the Fleet.

This said, the Steer they to a Covert drew, And in the Lion's Name Arresting, slew.

Then Praise-Jove Bare bones spake, Thou maist be glad Poor pay no Poll-money, nor Royal-Aid, No Subsidies, their no Lands raise no Tax, I shall be still the same, a Labouring Ox: So long as they can thus count up these Ribs, I shall in safety be at empty Cribs.

MORAL.

One mounted on the Wings of Youth and Wealth, Ne're dreams of Poverty, or Less of Health; Who whilst he dallying lies in Fortunes Lap, The Strumpet gives her Young Gallant a Clap.

[illustration] the lion stands under a rocky outcrop from where the goat looks down on him.

14

FAB. XIV. Of the Lion and the Kid.

THe Lion clemb'd with Hunger, choak'd with Thirst, (Of all Diseases empty Boards the worst.) On a steep Summit jutting o're the Woulds, Cropping Heath-buds, and Briers, a Kid beholds.

To whom the Monarch said, My pretty Kid, Come hither, I'm your King! Do as I bid: Survey Our Plenties, see a glorious Sight, To which my little Subject I invite; Here Flow'ry Meads, Shades are, and Golden Plains, Here Vineyards full of Walks, and winding Lanes; Harsh Juniper forsake, and Bramble Boughs, And here on tender Vines soft Branches brouse.

Why stand'st thou frighted? why look'st thou so pale? To see my shaggy Main and bushie Tail? 'Mongst Calves and Colts, if not a Council-day, Tir'd with State-works, I for diversion play; The Crown-Affairs, and serious Business sours, Not sweetned by some Recreating Hours: He is no King that at his leisure wants His Drolls, Buffoons, and sawning Sycophants, Rich Wine, sweet Musick, choice of beauteous Dames, To kindle, and to quench Loves pleasing Flames.

I once made Captive, driven from my Crown, Was as a Wonder shew'd from Town to Town; A Lamb and I Companions there did play, To fresh Spectators the whole Summers day; He my sharp Teeth not fear'd, nor griping Paws, Would run his Head into my open Jaws: Come, leave that barren Kock, and hungry Air, And to my Palace in yon Wood repair.

Grim Sir! be you the King? The Kid replies; Though you speak mildly, dreadful are your Eyes! Should I your Favorite be, and very near, I still should tremble when you, Sir, appear! Princes, as well as Courtiers, now, they say, Sign Debts, make Grants, Promise, and seldom Pay; They talk abroad, Exchequers are lock'd up, At Court no Tables, scarce a Cheering Cup: Rather than to Necessities aspire, I'll tarry here, and feed on humble Brier.

Who well are setled, though in mean Estate, Their chang'd Condition may repent too late.

MORAL.

Better be Captain in the smallest Fort, Than be Commanded in a Princes Court: Yet the Ambitious, that Preferment prize. Run through the meanest Offices to Rise.

[illustration] the satyr converses with the sword's hilt. In the background, figures (human or satyr) bath in a stream under trees near a farmstead.

15

FAB. XV. Of the Satyr and the Sword.

A Satyr passant by a Forest side, A Sword 'mongst checkring Foliage espy'd: First startled at the dreadful Blade and Hilt, With Antique Figures Hatch'd, and rarely Gilt, Off discompos'd he drew; then undismay'd, Lost Spirits recovering, thus th' Admirer said.

Wonder whate're! since I did ne're behold Such dazling Silver, nor such lightning Gold! Thy Country, Name, and Character impart, That thee I Value may at thy Desert.

The Pommel then, cast like a Heroe's Head, From Brazen Lips with Gold enamell'd, said;

You see a Sword, an Instrument of Death! This shining Coat of Steel is Hector's Sheath, Whose Soul through several Transmigrations past, Lies penn'd up in this Cut-throat Inn at last.

When first within this Iron Cage confin'd, I in a Monarch's Hand in Battel shin'd, Pruning rank Rebels with a tender Edge, That choak'd Prerogative with Privilege;

Mildly he us'd me, lopping Weeds with care, Though stubborn Traytors, they his Subjects were: When fickle Fortune, who Dethrones or Crowns, Kings topsie-turvies, and advanceth Clowns, With a damn'd Oath, and Covenanting Kirk, Out-weigh'd the Right, and setled a bad Work; Of Royal Ermins did the Meek disrobe, Seiz'd Sword, and Scepter, and Terrestrial Globe, Whilst Deluges of Tears his Pious Soul In briny Billows wafted to the Pole.

Then Guarded I a one Nights upstart Gourds, Parliament Govern'd without King or Lords: Me from that Throng a Copper Captain gain'd, Who Ruld in Purple of Three Realms distain'd: This bloody Monster, greedy of bad Fame, Only of Kingship wanting but the Name, Resolv'd to be a Monarch; when kind Fate, Lest he should ancient Thrones contaminare, To Seats of Furies with a Tempest hurl'd This Demi-Fiend, and Troubler of the World. Then Change of Government each minute spawn'd, Me shuffling here and there, from Hand to Hand; When from the Rising Sun, and Glorious Right, A guilty Flyer dropt me in his Flight.

Art thou that Hector, said the Satyr, who So oft the Greeks in that long War o'rethrew, By Prowess purchasing immortal Fame? We hear that many now go by your Name,

That in the Suburbs exercise their Rage, The Taverns, and the Ord'naries, the Stage: Be they like you, when you embodied were, Routing whole Squadrons with your single Spear? If so, why thus prepare we 'gainst the tall Batavians, and their Amadis de Gaule? Had there been two such Hectors, Stories say, Troy might have stood, and flourish'd to this day.

Then said the Sword, Those Hectors that are there Ne're saw a Field, never in Battel were; They arm'd by Bacchus, use for Warlike Tools Edg'd Pots and Bottles, Trenchers, Chairs, and Stools: One like me living, one so strong and stout, Would thousands of such shadow-Hectors rout. But here wants Time these Braggarts to unmask, Their Characters would more than Volumes ask: But now take Pitty, if thou hast esteem For the true Hector, him enclos'd redeem; My Brazen Head hath spoke, Time will be past, This Day for my Redemption is the last: Thou Demi-Deity me elsewhere dispose; He that is more than Man, than Man more knows.

Then said the Satyr, True, I have a Spell Shall free thee, if thou Prisoner wert in Hell▪ But first I'll sweat this Blade, soften the Edge, And at the Point purge a Steel-powder Seege, Then Vomiting, eject thee at the Hilt, Go after to the Devil, if thou wilt.

This said, he hastens home, and kept his Word, Making the Sensitive a Sensless Sword.

MORAL.

Princes to Laws and Policie may trust, Be Merciful, Religious, Wise, and Just: But Swords must stubborn Subjects keep in awe, All other Ties not valu'd at a Straw.

[illustration] a young man in Roman dress wields a cudgel indoors next to a broken statue's legs on a pedestal. The rest of the statue lies in pieces at his feet. In the background, through the open doorway, a crowd of cloaked people is visible.

16

FAB. XVI. Of the Heathen and his Idol.

O Thou whom 'mongst our Lars and Houshold-gods My Ancestors transported through the Floods, From burning Troy, and setled here to be Happy in their Posterity, and thee! Yet now with contrite Heart and blubber'd Eyes, Though daily I Invoke and Sacrifice, No Means neglected, doing what I can, Want comes upon me like an Armed Man; And the poor Remnant of my torn Estate, One in Rebellion with the King of late, Calls his Inheritance, lays Claim unto; Which if he carry, me must quite undo.

Yet my Wife Father made a fair Accord, He Purchas'd what was gotten by the Sword; But scrupling Lawyers have enough pickt out To put my Title and his Sale in doubt: Yet I my Counsel have, and Witness Feed, To Plead and Swear th' irrevocable Deed: But ah! my Wants will sterve my Cause; All's lost! None gratis damn themselves, not Knights o' th' Bost: Help now, or never; Help else comes too late, And I must Alms crave at anothers Gate.

Thus Pray'd the Superstitious, when a Nod Blind Zeal presents from his consenting God.

Now joyning Issue, they to Hearing came, Great Concourse thither drawn by pratling Fame, Juries impannell'd, Witness sworn, and all Suppos'd the Plaintiff's Cause would to the Wall; When his grave Counsel drew their latter Card, And one short Proof a well-pack'd Business marr'd. Faln from his Hopes, thus thrown down in a trice, Undone for ever, ne're again to rise, He from the Court went sweating in a Rage, On his damn'd God his Fury to asswage; When thus upon him the Incensed fell:

If I had serv'd the Gods, the Devil in Hell, With half that Zeal and Fervor thee I serv'd, He would not thus have left me to besterv'd, Turn'd out of all, naked a begging go; Furies may melt, Stocks no Compassion know.

VVhat made my Ignorant Parents thee implore, And with such Reverential Awe adore? VVhose deaf Ears Marble are, whose Bowels Rock, A Humane shape, but Headed like a Shock.

But Dogs-face, now thy weakness I'll detect, And this foul Form of Godliness dissect; Beaten to Powder, thee I'll level lay, For my Undoing, and this dismal Day.

This said, he takes him, Pedestal and all, And with strange Fury hurls against the VVall, In pieces dash'd like brittle Glass, then trod To Mortar scatter'd Fragments of his God:

When a New Light the dusty Mists unfold; Out of the Head and Ruptur'd Belly Gold Reverberating, rung the Idol's Knell, And Lightnings 'midst a Rubbish Tempest fell: Whilst through a Cloud of Witnesses he spies Gems, Jewels, Ingots, a no little Prize! Which he at first an idle Vision thought; But feeling what he found, and never sought, So huge a Treasure, such prodigious Store, That those that thirst for Gold could ask no more, Smiling, he said, Ah miserable Hound! Why didst thou thus conceal what I have found? Wouldst not to thy Devoted, torn with Want, And greedy Lawyers, one small Penny grant? The Tythe of this had my undoing Cause Brought off, and me, with Honor and Applause: But thus recruited, I'll recover Cost, And all my Land in Forma Pauperis lost.

MORAL.

Madness oft helps the Desperate, sometimes Chance; Others Debauchery and Full Cups advance: Some dive the Seas, search Mines, Coffers to load; These Sell their King, and That Betrays his God.

FAB. XVII. Of Phoebus, the Covetous, and Envious Man

SUmmon'd by Jove to his Great Council, all The Gods assembling in Heavens Starry Hall, In Crystal Nieches order'd Places take; When thus the Sire in nipping Language spake.

Coelestials, Convocated here you sit, Enacting Things nor handsom, just, nor fit; You Private Picks and Self-concerns debate, Whilst Fallow lies the Grand Affairs of State: And if by chance some wholesom Laws we make, Such care you of the Execution take, That Man our Chief Authority contemns, Looking on Gods as Poets idle Dreams; That now their Crimes reach such a Brazen Height, Unmask'd Day sees the darkest Deeds of Night: Nay more, on us each Malefactor pins His venial, greater, and more hainous Sins: Mars protects Murther, and Rebellious Swarms Influenc'd by him, 'gainst Princes take up Arms: On Bacchus lay they the Abuse of Grapes; And Venus Pillows all their loose Escapes:

[illustration] Aureoled Phoebus presents his riddle to two bearded men in long robes. Jupiter (or Jove) and other gods look on from a cloud.

17

The City-Cheat, and High-way Robber too, Hermes, they boast their Signatures from you: With Lampoons, Phoebus, and Burlesque reproach; And Juno, for Dame Haughties Golden Coach: Neither scape I, that Heaven and Earth Command, When surly People are to be trepann'd; Clandestine Plots for open Actions ripe, Striking at Kings, that are of Gods the Type, When down must come Religion, and all Laws, In my Name Arm they, and attest their Cause. Therefore let Phoebus take a strict Review, And make Report, if what we hear be true: Mercy we rather would than Wrath employ, Not drown bad Cities, nor with Fire destroy.

The God thus order'd, leaves his shining Robe, Vested in Clouds, and makes the Terrene Globe Swifter than Thought, swift as the quickest Eyes, Through Empires, Kingdoms, and Republicks flies; Saw the Seven Deadly Champions Flags unfurl'd, And open Vice Encampt about the World; Finding Crimes much alike, as on a Stage, Here act they Comick Shifts, there Tragick Rage: Though he no Gyants found, 'gainst Heaven to fight, Nor Rig out fifty Chambermaids a Night; Nor Blazing Comets, Drinkers that could swill Whole Oceans off, and yet be Thirsty still; Yet All Well-wishers were, did what they could, And each where swarm'd Offenders, Young and Old.

An accurate Survey thus having made Of Men and Manners, to himself he said, Why should I more incensed Jove provoke? I'll turn this serious Business to a Joke; No end of Crimes, Offenders every where, And several Laws sufficiently severe: From two comes yonder, Humane Creatures scarce, Matter of Moment shall become a Farce; That spiteful Dog, and avaricious Chuff, Shall make for Laughter Argument enough.

To whom he said, Accept from Heaven a Grant, That you nor yours hereafter never want: But he that first implores, be sure to crave Whole Mines of Gold, since 'tis but Ask, and Have: He whoe're second begs, Jove will not grutch Sums doubled; his Enjoyments twice as much.

This Riddle put the Wretches to a stand, That he should Happiest be, did last Demand! The Avaricious judg'd himself accurst To lose a Moiety by begging first; When double Mischief th' Envious thus designs, Jove take this Eye, and keep thy promis'd Mines; Then of his Purchase let the Greedy boast, When I but One, and he Both Eyes hath lost.

Then Phoebus said, This seems a subtle Plot, To be both Losers, when both might have got:

By this you each had Myriads enjoy'd; This Spiteful Wretch hath all your Hopes destroy'd, Since here Jove's Grant, and my Commission ends: Kindness, not Harm, to Mortals he intends.

This said, he scales Coelestial Aboads, And told this pleasant Story to the gods.

MORAL.

Foul Avarice with Gold and Silver nurs'd, Cries still More yet, and never quencheth Thirst▪ The Envious Wretch, whose Eye makes others smart, Feels hungry Adders baiting on his Heart.

FAB. XVIII. Of Jupiter and the Bee.

THe Gods thus put upon a Merry Pin, Wav'd pruning Vices, and vain Cure of Sin, Remembring they themselves had often swerv'd, And for like Crimes just Punishment deserv'd:

When Jove thus spake, Lay by the Earths Affairs, Man little for our Acts and Statutes cares; Princes Edicts not Executed, they Like Cobwebs force, and make their King's High-way. Bring Nectral Goblets swoln above the edge; Hang Business, let us Gods each other Pledge.

This said, Coelestial Tables streight were spread, Nectar their Tope, Ambrosia their Bread.

When the Hyblean Monarch, King of Bees, A Honey-comb thus Jove upon his Knees Humbly presents; Take, Emperor of the Skies, A Nations Work, the load of many Thighs; Extracted Quintessence from various Flowers Which deck May's Bosom, big with April Showers: Their King Grand-Bee the Offering, soon as said, In humble posture at Jove's Footstool laid.

Who thus reply'd, I well resent your Gift; Who for himself, an Infant, could not shift,

[illustration] Jupiter (or Jove) sits with other gods at a table with a honeycomb in a cloud above a rural scene, with two beehives and bees in flight.

18

Left in a Cretan Cave hemm'd in with Woods, Obscur'd from Mortals and Immortal Gods, When I for Milk, the Teat long wanting, cry'd, With sweeter Food your Grandsires me supply'd; Betwixt my thirsty Lips they Honey stiv'd, Which my faint Spirits, nigh yielding up, retriv'd; Starving I scap'd, condemned to be slain, And then a Cast-away, in Heaven now Raign.

This said, he bids streight Ganymed infuse Amongst Coelestial, this Terrestrial Juyce; Who sweet Tears crushing from the yielding Wax, Of rougher Nectar, pleasing Liquor makes: Whilst silver Foam margents the sparkling Cup, Jove he presents, Jove turns the Bottom up:

Thus saying, Since I Rul'd all beneath the Cope, I never tasted more delicious Tope; Then bids him round to all the Table skink: Both Gods and Goddesses much praise the Drink.

But when that Bacchus saw the Liquor foam, Firment, he cries, Molossus, or else Stome; Poor and Rich Widows smile, or mourn in Black, Praising or cursing Medicated Sack, Or balder'd Gallick Wines, that took away Their poyson'd Husbands in a Drinking-day: But if that you shall countenance such Trash, Gods be Exemplars, tipling Balderdash, Who me will Worship, and pure Wine Adore, Or eat salt Pilchers on my Altars more?

Then Jove reply'd, Business when we Carowse! What, Bacchus, break the Orders of the House!

Your Grievances whate're you must report, When we Sit fasting in a frequent Court.

Then to the Honey-bird he turning, spake; But I this Gift of your so kindly take, That you must ask what may your State improve, And testifie Our Gratitude and Love.

When King Hive said, O Jove, if thou hast Grace For Insects (though Bees boast Coelestial Race) Let not base Villagers our Stocks destroy, And what you so are pleas'd to like, enjoy; Who drown whole Nations, or with stifling Smoke Establish'd Kingdoms in a Minute choke, Sweet Treasure seize, laid up in Waxen Forts: Let deadly Poyson arm our little Darts, That if the Skin we pierce, no Scorpions bite Shall sooner kill, nor sharpest Aconite.

Then Jove reply'd, You know not what you ask; Your Malice to our Minion you unmask: Fool! should I grant what Man would so annoy, You and your Progeny soon they would destroy. Therefore whoe're shall Waspish thrust his Sting In Humane Flesh, a Peasant, or a King, Disarm'd, shall turn a Drone, nor more shall toyl, But in Rebellion live upon the Spoil.

MORAL.

A handsom Treat, a Bottle of good Wine, May more prevail than Jewels, Plate, or Coin: To flowing Bowls your Business well apply'd, Your Suit is bad if then you be deny'd.

[illustration] a man in farmer's dress holding an egg talks to his goose. A large farmhouse is in the background.

19

FAB. XIX. Of the Covetous Man and his Goose.

THat Greedy-worm who stood in his own light, And first let th' Envious ask to wreak his Spite, Had now a Business faln into his Lap, That he to Fortune ought t' have veil'd his Cap, Had he been thankful; but Bad Natures will Ne're return Good for Good, though Ill for Ill. This answer'd all he of the Gods could beg, Each day his Goose laid him a Golden Egg: Most strange! yet true, though scarce believ'd when told, The Yolk not onely, but the White was Gold. Fearing his Precious Bird, now in her Prime, Might Old grow barren, and he lose his time, Nor of the Blessing present Profit make, His Opportunity he now will take To swell his Bags, Improvements to enlarge; When thus he gives his Golden Bird a Charge:

You daily me a handsom Egg produce, For Beauty valued, else of little Use; Though Cressus such bright Images ador'd, Yet he to Iron bended, and the Sword; Ah! of this gaudy Toy, to quench their Thirst, Make Man unhappy, and the World accurst.

But to the Point; though at my own Barn-door You Diet have, yet run you on the score; Contrary to our Covenant, oft you get Into my Corn, and spoil whole Fields of Wheat; There you not onely Feast, but undertake For others, which no little Havock make: But howsoe're, to balance all Accounts, Since not your Wages to so much amounts, Double your Task, lay me two Eggs a day, So will the Surplus justed Audits pay.

Then said the Dame, Your Judgment, Sir, consult; Lay not on me a duplicated Mulct: Forc'd Embryos may your Golden Mine consume, And Births imperfect perish in the Womb.

At these Words Avarice and Choler mix'd, The Hinges of Right Reason quite unfix'd; When thus her Death resolving on, he said,

I shall be happy, and for ever made! 'Tis beyond Scruple, past uncertain Hope, She hath the Stone, th' Elixir in her Crop, Or else it lodgeth in her Heart or Soal: Fly Lymbecks! fly, lent Fires, and Beechen Coal! Whole Years of Toil, Tryals of Skill and Wit, To make the Med'cine for Projection fit! O're is that Voyage, past those dangerous Seas, And we arriv'd in the Hesperides: Nor need we mix with Copper, Ste••l, or Brass, Cooperate with a stiff unyielding Mass: But on green Corn, like this despiteful Bird, Who Wheat-blade-milk converts to glittering Curd;

So at one touch Fitches and Fields of Tares Shall Metal shine, and wave with Golden Ears.

This said, he kills the Goose, and then dissects; (From a bad Cause but follow sad Effects.) Inspection through her panting Entrails made, He found no Indian Mines, nor Guiney Trade: He, his Enjoyments lost, and hop'd for Pelf, Though dear, a Halter bought, and hang'd himself.

MORAL.

O're-weening Hopes are Portals to Despair; Who climb a Precipice, let them beware; Higher they mount, the lower is their Fall: Some catch at Heaven and Hell, the Devil and All.

FAB. XX. Of the Sheep and the Butcher.

WEthers a dozen, all of special Note, Each in a Golden Fleece, or Silver Coat, Fed in one Stall, rich in their numerous Flocks, Free from Incursions of the Wolf and Fox; Where they long prospering, securely dwelt, And never Frown of fickle Fortune felt: Whom from their Golden Dream a Butcher wakes, And a fat Brother from Sheep-College takes.

Much at this unexpected Chance dismay'd, In frequent Council, thus Bell-wether said!

How are we faln, whom Pride and Riches swell'd Who such a Consternation e're beheld! We in Gold Tunicks and strip'd Silver Vests For Nuptials fitted, look like Funeral Guests; With our Surprizal struck, each Face did show Vaunt A Map of Misery and ensuing Woe: Where's former Strength and Courage, where ou•• No Fortune could the Sheepish Nation daunt: But now our Business mind, no time neglect, We must be sudden, stout, and circumspect, Apparent Danger's near; by one consen. Our Ruin by Defensive Arms prevent.

[illustration] a garlanded ram stands on a mound in an open-sided barn looking down on a garlanded flock. In the background, a man in farmer's dress puts a garland on a sheep.

What Fool on us imbodied once dares fall? VVhose Heads may batter down a Brazen VVall? But if you suffer thus the subtle Foe To seise us single, and unquestion'd go; Thus unarray'd let him the Fattest cull, And at once strip us both of Skin and Wooll, We Inch by Inch shall like a Taper melt, Lost in Destruction, e're one Blow be dealt: Wars are begun, and yet no VVar proclaim'd; No Trumpet sounding, why should we be blam'd To take up Arms, and so revenge our VVrong? Surprizal makes us Forty thousand strong. In Belin's Name, next entring, him Arrest, And beat the Breath out of his wicked Breast; This bloody Butcher kill, and then sit down In Peace, and once more Masters of your own.

This said, a byass'd Brother rising spoke, And thus in pieces his grave Counsel took:

VVe may your Courage, not your Prudence praise, VVould us persuade a dangerous VVar to raise Upon such slender grounds, before we know If this Invasion be, or he a Foe: Under Attainder, and to Prison led, Must we him rescue, Private Quarrels wed? Engage Republick on so slight a score? Be all undone, rather than one grow poor? A Province seiz'd, the Fact will never reach To make upon the Empires Peace a Breach: VVhilst you enjoy whate're makes Mortals blest, To help a Neighbor ne're your selves molest:

Some with their Blood may water Fleur-de-Liece, Others re-gild pale-growing Golden-Fleece; But who e're takes up Arms, the Die once thrown, May call their proper Goods no more their own; Let their Allies and Friends the better get, United States may in a Province set.

But to the Point: The Foe you would surprize, He watches with his own, not others Eyes; His Preparations he will never slack, But still be ready at the first Attack; Not Sloth nor Avarice shall e're abuse, Being a Master of his own Reviews: So fall on when you please, you soon shall fell 'Gainst your unpractic'd Arms, his ready Steell; Though twelve to one, he in prepared Bowls VVill cool this Fever in your purple Souls; So in one Action we shall perish all. The worst that may betide, fall what may fall! VVe shall have time, whilst us he singly takes; Each posting Minute Alterations makes; VVhilst present Junctures may our Cause advance; Wonders the Bosom fill of Time and Chance; And this encroaching Tyrant may, perhaps, On false Pretensions Levying VVar, relapse: Therefore be patient, Live whilst live we may, Nor to a desperate hazard All betray.

This Counsel taking, they despise the first. And none there contradicting, chose the worst; VVhen in the Slaughterer comes, just as before, And their full Dozen shrunk to Half a score:

So daily picks and culls, making no Noise Till of twice Six, remains not any Choice, Only his Orator, whom forth he draws, Last to Reward, who so Preach'd up his Cause: VVho not suspected Cutting of his Throat, But to be Duke and Peer made of the Coat,

False and Ambitious Counsellors, then said he, May they be paid their Punishment like me.

MORAL.

Few Publick Spirits, Common Counsels find; These fathom Wants, Those Private Interest blind: Most for the Present, and their own Affairs, Sudden Calamities seizeth unawares.

FAB. XXI. Of the Wolf and the Fox.

A River by a Thunder-Tempest swell'd, VVould not in Bounds of Modesty be held, But with an Inroad o're-runs bordering Strands; Retreat then sounding, Plashes leaves, and Ponds: 'Mongst which a tardie Salmon Reynard spies, And without Net or Angle makes his Prize.

The Wolf hard by, observ'd the lucky Hit, And thus puts in to share the dainty Bit:

Halves, half I cry! what you seiz'd first I saw, And claim the Moiety by Partners Law: In happy time this Creature-comfort came, My queasie Stomach checks at Kid or Lamb, Tasteless seems Humane Blood; I from a Drab Last Night made seizure of a tender Squab, Thought on the Infant, warm, my self to treat, And scarce the Liver and the Heart could eat.

Come, let's to Breakfast, and at Night with me You shall Co-partner of my Fortune be; I at Hogs-Norton, twinkling of a Jig On prophane Organs, took a Popish Pig, I'll only Feast you with that single Dish, By that time well we shall digest our Fish.

[illustration] the wolf approaches the fox who has a fish. In the background, the fox talks to an assortment of other animals in a stone building, and the wolf is set upon by villagers with sticks by a bridge.

Then Reynard thus; Whate'r this Lenten Fare, For a small purchase I release my share; My peevish Madam ready to cry out, Nothing will serve her but a Salmon-trout; Which brought not when expected, she will rise, Bedung my Face, and Urine in my Eyes.

But learn to Fish, I'll soon your Wolfship teach, Both for your self and Friends, enough to catch; Bring yonder Basket tackled to that Rope, Which you shall satisfie beyond your Hope: That Wicker laden will be such a Heap, Shall Markers make so much now risen, Cheap.

This said, Isgrim, though surly, draws the Tools, Which tying to his Stern, thus Reynard fools: Now to the River bring the fastned Pail, Which I'll so settle that you shall not fail; But you by no means till I give the Word, Must not look back, nor your Drag-Net be stirr'd.

The greedy Wolf, this said, obeys Command, And as the Fox directed, takes his Stand, Whilst he the Wicker with huge Pibbles thwacks, Until the circling sallow-belly cracks: This done, he calls; Now please your Wolfship pull! Well you are hansel'd, your new Engin's full, The River's drain'd, What Fish, how fat, and fain! Now I demand with you a Partners share; Put all your Strength, your Cordage strong, and Dock So well united, may remove a Rock.

This said, glad Isgrim gives a lusty Hale, Until he tenter'd out both Rope and Tail;

But fast the Work stood fix'd, nor more would jog Than stubborn Rock, or a perverser Log:

When Reynard calls, I see we need some help, I'll fetch my eldest Son, an able Whelp, Who joyn'd with you, the Task shall undertake; But till we come, by no means, Sir, look back. The Wolf persuaded, Fox bears home his Trout, Then mustering thus the Villages about,

Swains, Come away, and Arm with speed; the Wol•• Your Flocks Devourer, that all-swallowing Gulph, Now drains your River; and what havock there May Sheep-skin Doublets make, that never Swear! Pure Zeal-pretenders! to your grief you know: Now, now aveng'd be on the Common Foe.

Streight from the neighboring Dorps bold Rustic•••• throng, And like a gather'd Tempest, Old and Young Upon his Quarters falling, him assail With Bats, and Staves, and Stones as thick as Hail: No way to save himself, of Life no hope, He quits his Rudder fastned to the Rope; To neerest Coverts bare-breech'd Isgrim flies, Whilst mingled Shouts and Clamors scale the Skies.

MORAL.

Those that at Private, or at Publick Feasts, Use to invite themselves 'mongst Bidden Guests, Often upon them such Affronts are put, They had been better at the Three-peny Cut.

FAB. XXII. 2. Of the same Wolf and Fox.

GLad of the Mercy, and Escape so fair, Though with no little smart, and Gascoins bare, Whilst he lay licking whole his scarce no Stump, Rusticks in Triumph bearing round the Rump, Thus Isgrim did his Bosom disembogue;

How shall I be reveng'd upon this Rogue? Who me in danger put, and utter shame, To be thus despicable as I am: Where shall I wander now? where shew my Face? Bearing about the brand of my Disgrace? How shall I be disguis'd, or which way drest, Unless I wear a Tunick and a Vest? I that abhorr'd all Fashions whate're, Now, Must bid to those my dogging Modes adieu: I'll lay my Vizard by, a Hector turn, And my too Formal Sanctity adjourn, Fall on this subtle Fox where-e're we meet: No, 'twill not do; Wit must encounter Wit. Thus Clad, I'll to the Court; the Lion's sick: Mint on my Brains, and shew him Trick for Trick.

This said, he lays aside his formal shape, His Sheep skin Cloke, and Mutton-Velvet Cape, Puts on a Vest, that Cover'd his Disgrace, And with a Peruke owl'd his Wolfish Face; Low-crown'd his Hat, not the same Beast he show'd, Lo forth he walks, a New Old A-la-mode:

Entring the Court, he in the Royal Hall, The King and Queen saw, sitting at a Ball; Dancing Baboons, and Singing Parachitts, The Lion eas'd in Melancholy Fits; Up in a Bower his Cats and Fiddles stood, The Band twice twelve, made Galiards in the Blood.

The Pastime over, Isgrim did appear, And going forth, desir'd his Royal Ear, He his old Counsellor, though disguis'd, not balks, But a Turn with him in the Gallery walks: Then he himself applying, from his Forge, New Anvil'd Spleen and Malice did disgorge.

I from a populous City came of late, Where all Diseases sell at any Rate, Who Golden Showers pour in a Danae's Lap, Only to purchase a sufficient Clap: Small-pox is little valu'd, lesser Swine, All seek the best, they barter may for Coyn;

About your Health inquisitive, I found Those that keep Patients sick, could make them sound. At Spring and Fall their Bloods did so ferment, To pay them twice a Year their constant Rent;

I 'mongst those Doctors met a Reverend Sage, And told him your Distemper, Sir, and Age, Not only trusting Practise, down he took From Shelves with Learning loaden, an old Book, The Text and stuff'd up Margins long survey'd, And thus from Galen's Observations, said;

The Person disaffected, vext with Fumes, Vertiginous, Vapors, and distilling Rheums, Must Purge, must Diet, and must Issues make: But Old, take care lest any Cold he take: Get him warm Furs, his Garments Line and Face, Nothing more soveraign than a Foxes Case; That only will, if Rich, soader all flaws Of Wintry Age, and quite remove the Cause.

Then said the Lion, A Fox Skin so good Youth to renew, and circulate the Blood! King Craft, and gravest Counsellors alledge That Foxes Tails best Royal Ermin edge.

Then Isgrim said, Sir Reynard now gone down, That in late Turmoils fought against your Crown, And Knighted since by You, get him to Court, And your dear Life to lengthen, cut his short.

The Lion likes th' Advice, and Orders straight That on Emergencies, Affairs of State, He should attend the King, whom more to blind, His Gracious Letter he both Seal'd and Sign'd;

Nor Common Messenger, nor usual Post, Were sent, by which the Business might be lost; But a swift Tyger, that like Lightning flew.

The Work thus perfected, the King withdrew; And Isgrim, joyful of his well-play'd Part, Goes to his Lodgings with a Merry Heart.

MORAL.

He that receives a Wrong, should bear it too: Are they too Subtle, or too Strong for you? Better sit down, Loss and Affronts digest, Than rising, tread upon a Serpents Nest.

FAB. XXIII. 3. Of the same Wolf and Fox.

THis Closet-secret, the whole Juncto two, Early next morning sly Sir Reynard knew, His Pensioners, Intelligencers there, Pick'd out each Whisper from the King's own Ear; Such as their Prince and Country, such as would Their Wives! their Wives & Children sell for Gold: Who Publick Spirits count both weak and base; Let Private Interest, Self-concern take place: What care they if whole Kingdoms sink or swim, So they buoy up, and float above the brim.

Startled at first, a consternating Cold Agu'd his Joynts, attaqu'd Lifes warmer Hold: Soon as his better Spirits clear'd the Damp, And Sparks of Courage lightned Reasons Lamp, Then Reynard spake, Be circumspect and quick, Mischief prevent, and shew him Trick for Trick: To Cure the Lion, must I be uncas'd? You may be met with, Wolf, for all your haste.

This said, he all bemires his Back and Head, In Carrion rolls, where Rooks and Ravens fed: So to Court goes, so Ann'd with this Disguise And noysom Stench, to play his Master-Prize:

And soon he came where the Old Lion sate; Bemelanchollied and Disconsolate.

But when he saw Sir Reynard there, he said; Cousin! draw near, to see you I am glad; You must for me a Business undertake, Concerns my Life, and Crown! why draw'st thou back? Come near, and me your King Advice afford, The Work's too knotty for our Council Board: They only follow Sport, Eat, Drink, and Droll, Scarce one a Learned or a Knowing Soul.

Then Reynard said, Ah my most Gracious Liege! I thus bespatter'd with foul Dung and Siege, Sir, ought not in your Royal Presence stand, But that I bring you from a Forein Land, Fair Overtures of Health, nay certain Cure, For lingring Sickness worse than Calenture; What Comfort boasts the Emperor of the World? Whose Cheeks bear pale Distempers, Flags unfurl'd When Hypochondriack Fumes, more strong than Spell Or Pulpits, Conjure up ten thousand Hells, Legions of Devils, and as many Saints, Breathing Rebellion, Oaths, and Covenants; Tortur'd with Fancy worse than his Disease, He lives or dies, as Court Physicians please.

Observing, Sir, that all in Physick dealt, Oftner our Purses than our Pulses felt; And whensoever double Fees not drop, They leave their Patient then in little hope; Galenick this, Chymistrie that pretends, Their chiefest Learning Greek and Latin ends:

So I at last, a great Magician found, That only dealt with Spirits under Ground; By me importun'd much, he call'd from Rest, Old Aesop, that renown'd Mythologist; Who first to Business found the nearest way, What in long Sermons Orators could say Of State-Affairs, of Moral, or Divine, His Cock and Bull contracts all in a Line. Whose pale Shade told me, vain were Medicines all, You might, perhaps, linger a Spring and Fall; But you your Course must finish e'r the Sun Could through th' Ecliptick annual Periods run.

I grieving much, straight made this sad Reply; Ah! must my dear and Royal Master die? When thus he spake in few and pithy words, One only Medicine the whole World affords, Whose Soveraign Power can o'r his Fits prevail; And that's a Wolf, a Wolf without a Tail; Whose brisly Skin must gird him Back and Side, This in seven days will cure, if well apply'd.

This said, the Vision fled the dazling Light, Since when I neither rested Day, nor Night, To bring from Shadows, and the Gates of Hell, What us must Happy make, and You, Sir, Well. My Haste and your Necessity, hath made Me venture in your Presence, thus bewray'd.

Who's there? the King said: On your Lives not fail, But fetch me straight a Wolf without a Tail.

When one reply'd, Isgrim late come to Court, A Rudder wants, or else 'tis wondrous short:

To hide his Wants, thus he himself hath drest, His Sheep-skin Cloke turn'd to a Coat and Vest.

Ha! said the Monarch; Bid him hither straight: No sooner enter'd, but he met his Fate. The Lion throws him Back upon the Floor, And off his Skin, and out his Bowels tore.

No sooner Reynard saw thus Isgrim stripp'd, But to Fox-hall the sly Insulter slipp'd.

MORAL.

Not he who First, but Last, the King's Ear gets, At subtle Plots and Counterminings beats: Yet they who Foremost Charge, cry Traytor First, Play a Fore-game, and seldom get the worst.

[illustration] the laden camel walks under a tree with the fly on his back. In the background the camel looks up at Mercury (or Hermes) in winged sandals and helmet, caduceus in hand, descending from a cloud where Jupiter (or Jove) sits, crowned, trident in hand, next to an eagle.

FAB. XXIV. Of the Camel and the Fly.

THat Emblem of Impertinence, the Fly, Mounted upon a Camel Steeple-high, Because the laden Monster slowly went, Her petulant Humor stirr'd up, did ferment, Who pitch'd upon a Turbant o're a Pack, In a high Chafe thus arrogantly spake:

Why, Bunch-back, creep'st thou in so smooth a Road? Am I so great a Lady? such a Load? This Tiffany Whisk, and Sarc'net Cloke of mine Ne're Navel-gall'd, nor broke a Horses Chine: Haste, thou dull Lump of Flesh, why dost not go? This Morning is Sir Cranion Wedded know, To Madam Lady-Bird, more Fair and Gay Than May her self, and all the Flowers in May; There will be painted Flies of all Degrees, Prime Courtiers, and the King himself of Bees; Gnats, Humbles, Hornets, twenty four his Band, Hybleans Consort ready at Command; Who late Presented Jove a Honey-comb, Sent with Gifts loaden, and great Honors home, His Waxen Realms to strengthen and advance, Above the Power of Change, or fickle Chance:

The Married Pair present their Royal Guest A stately Masque, after a sumptuous Feast; And I my self, whose Name you needs must know, Dame Gadfly, am Invited to the Show: Had I a Switch or Spur, I'd pay your Coat, That thus with calling make so hoarse my Throat.

The Camel hearing from his Fardle come Vexatious Buzzes, and so loud a Hum, Thought that some Spirit Ranted in the Sky; But when he saw there but Summer Fly,

Why Madam Gad? why all this stir? he said; My Master, for your Place you never paid: If I could reach thee with my Train or Teeth, I'd make thee far unfit to Roast, or Seeth; You that so poor and proud are, one small Lash, Would turn thee, Boneless Nothing, to a Hash.

MORAL.

The noise of wrangling Gamesters at their Games, Makes Heavenly Musick to your All-tongu'd Dames: Eccho a Voice without a Body, strange! Let Silent Women 'mongst such Wonders range.

FAB. XXV. 2. Of the same Camel and Fly.

DAme Gad-Fly now that such a puther kept, Returning home, on the same Camel slept; Weary with Dancing at the Bridal, where So many Flesh-Flies and hot Courtiers were; The laden Beast through beaten Tracts jog'd on, Till both his Journey and the Day were done. The Fly warm sitting in bright Phoebus Beams, Pav'd all her Passage with delightful Dreams; Whilst through deep Ways on went the burthen'd Slug His Reins and Harness ratling, she sat snug: But when the Sun behind th' opacous Globe Suffer'd Eclipse, Cold pierc'd her slender Robe; At which she waking, Brussles up her Tail, Then lighting pearch'd upon the neighboring Pale; With Curtsies after Curtsies, Lady Gad, Thus to the Camel, oft repeating, said:

Sir, I'll no farther trouble you to Night, I in compassion of your Burthen light, My many Thanks, I ne'r so easie rode, You must be weary sure, with such a Load! I slept all Day, those sleep sit heavier far, than those that wake, and talk, and jocund are;

Your Humble Servant; thousand Kiss-hands; pray Make use of my House, when you come that way.

The Camel then; Pox on thee, art thou there? Did ever any such a Gossip hear? Excusive Complements vex ten times more Than all your petulant ranting Talk before: Begone, else something on thee I'll bestow You'll thank me for, since you I nothing owe: I feel no Lady's weight, th' are all so light, But Words may load me, that a Ship would freight; The Hills and Dales I past, Plashes and Banks, Not so much tir'd me, as your vexing Thanks:

Strange Trouble are your Complemental Gnats, That neither Money, Manners have, nor Sprats.

MORAL.

Poor and Low Breeding makes Phanatick Elves Competitors with Kings conceit themselves: Porters may think they bear a Kingdoms weight, And are the onely Atlasses of State.

FAB. XXVI. 3. Of the same Camel and Jupiter.

OUr Camel, he that bore Dame Fly of late, Had got a Maggot now in his own Pate; Long fed in Pasture, and at plenteous Stalls, Fat, in a fit of Melancholy falls: Prick'd up with Provender, and swelling Pride, To Jove thus sadly he himself apply'd.

O thou that Rul'st the low and upper World! Where nightly thy bright Ensigns fly unfurl'd, On me, a wretched Beast, take some Remorse, That undervalued am beneath a Horse. I am become to all the Field a Scorn: What Taste hath tender Grass, or purest Corn? What all my Ease? what my continued Feasts? Imbitter'd still with Jeers, and biting Jests? They say, I bear a Fardle on my Back, And onely need behind a Pedlar's Pack; Tell me, betwixt my Belly and my Brains A Gutter falls, as deep as two Long-lanes, To set out my Deformity and Want. Honor and Arms upon my Temples plant; Adorn my Frontispiece with stately Horns, Not with Ram Belin's, but the Unicorn's;

Then I shall keep Monkeys and Apes in awe, And from his Perch bring down the jeering Daw; Then I shall be a stately Beast indeed, And all those Scoffers at my Pleasure Feed.

Then Jove said, smiling at his fond Request, Thou mak'st thy self the same deformed Beast, By your Petition, and as foolish too, As when in Lampoons they decypher you. Horns on that Head already rais'd so high! Sure thou hast some Design upon the Sky, To strike down Constellations in their March, Unhinge our Throne on Heavens supremest Arch, Storm our Twelve Houses, Watches rout, and Wards, Eternal Centries, and Nocturnal Guards: Since thou for Arms, and such Additions pray'st, I'll take from thee those Ornaments thou hast.

Hermes, straight fetch, said Jove, yon Monster's Ears, And in our Hall 'mongst Crests and Hoods of Bears, Mongst other Forfeitures to us that fall On like occasions, nail them to the Wall.

This said, the God descends through crystal Spheres, And with a Blast of Lightning crops his Ears: Heavens Court the Camel oft in vain implor'd, But they the Gates of Hearing ne're restor'd.

MORAL.

Should Princes grant whate're their Subjects ask, They soon would put them to a second Task, That Gracious they all Patents would Repeal: The Giddy Vulgar know not when th' are well.

[illustration] the crow drops a pebble into the pitcher next to a well. In the background, the crow perches on the lamb's back, while a large bird flies away with the lamb in its talons.

FAB. XXVII. Of the Lamb and the Crow.

A Petulant Crow with Carrion Banquets gorg'd, And noysom Offals, to Bears College Barg'd, Look'd round, a soft and steadier Seat to find, Than a rough Branch, that danc'd with every Wind:

Spying a Lamb, said she, No further search, On yon soft Couch, that Silken Fleece, I'll perch: Her short Result put streight in Act, she came, And Quarters settles on the harmless Lamb; Who when he felt a Burthen on his Back, And hovering saw one lighted, all in Black, Supposing some great Lady there had been, That onely Rested, not took up her Inn, He patiently endur'd: but when she staid As in her Lodgings, thus the Sutl'rer said.

Madam, whate're you are, I not inquire, But wish to Privacy you would retire; Though soft the Palat, yet you Curtains want, Unfit to Duel with a Brisk Gallant: Need you a moving Brother? Call a Coach, There's all Conveniency, and less Reproach: Be what you will, Court-Dame, Goddess, or Nymph, I would not bear your Bed, and be your Pimp.

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Then said the Crow, Why how now sawcie Jack! Thinkst thou a Strumpet sits upon thy Back? Were I a Pleasure-Lady, here I'd sleep, And this Place as my own Apartment keep.

The Lamb reply'd, Lady, I am content, If you will pay my Master Chamber-Rent; He hath a thousand Tricks, a thousand ways, To lose you in Laws intricating Maze; A Lawyer, who his Neighbors keeps in awe, Will Sue them for the turning of a Straw; A heinous Trespass o're his Hedge to peep: Lady, agree with him before you sleep.

Then she reply'd, Your Master I will match; E're he proceed, he first must me attach: But e're Dog-Sergeants come, I'll take my Flight Where never Under-Shrieve shall on me light: Disturb no more, nor keep me from Repose, Lest I in stead of Parlying, fall to Blows.

MORAL.

Proud and Poor Tenants hard are off to claw, Possession being Eleven Points of the Law: Are we not able Tyrants to Supplant? Better with Patience Suffer, than to Rant.

FAB. XXVIII. Of the Crow and the Pitcher.

THe Crow this said, indulging wholesom Rest, Her Station kept, soul Banquets to digest; When her from Sleep a hot Alarum wak'd; Cates which in Dog-days Phoebus stew'd and bak'd Strange Insurrection, in her Bowels nurs'd, Turning high Surfeit into raging Thirst: Then looking round, she on the neighboring Bank A Pitcher spies, well-shoulder'd in the Flank; Who streight o'rejoy'd, forsakes her Landlord Lamb, And to this Cistern for Refreshment came.

The Pot then smiling, said, Your Hopes are vain, A Bucket wants my Treasury to drain; You from my well-neal'd Margents may survey How on my Water Beams reflecting play; But down your Throat one Drop shall ne're distil, A Swan's Neck wanting, or the Crane's long Bill.

The thirsty Crow, this said, thrust down her Nib, A Dry-Bob finding, for expected Bib; Jeer'd and defeated, now she must asswage Not onely burning Thirst, but burning Rage:

Her Brains she romag'd, her Invention stirr'd, Fancy presents whate're she saw or heard: To mind then calling an Athenian Owl, That kept hard by a Philosophick School, Who much insisted on three Elements, And how the Liquid yield unto the Dense, Water shuts Air out, but a Turf or Stone Makes that to swell, and break its Spherick Cone.

True, said the Bird, were you as deep as Hell, I'll Conjure up your Liquor with this Spell; Then labour'd she to vindicate her Cause, With Pebbles stuff'd her Bill and griping Claws; To and again with Stones then trudging hops, And till she saw moist Margents, never stops; Then pearching on the baffled Pitchers Brim, Exhausted Liquor stretch'd her Bellys Rim.

Sure Dame, you are no Witch, the Crow then said, Although so Eloquent a Speech you made: You bad at Business are, though good at Words; You thought like Pitchers were Aetherial Birds: Dull Earthen Clod, that standst like john-a-Dreams, O're Rocks and Mountains Art will carry Streams; Against the Austrian Eagles, Storks and Cranes Dry Land to Sea turn'd, Seas to ample Plains, Us'd Water as they listed; now enrag'd, Both Armies are midst Standing Corn engag'd; Flag-ships soon after, on the self-same Spot, Draw up bold Squadrons plying Cannon-shot.

You that so Wise were in your own Conceit, To me now, as a Mistress, stand in Debt; But since no Credit get we by a Fool, I'll thus at once begin, and break up School.

MORAL.

What unto some Impossible appears, Time, Industry, a Purse, and Conduct, clears: Wares River, Building Pauls, and such like Works, Lay under Jeers, and scribling Poets Jerks.

FAB. XXIX. Of the Wind and an Earthen Vessel.

TO a grand Bottle neiling in the Sun, Thus Boreas in huffing Terms begun: What art thou, bullie Monster? thou that hast Such a prodigious Hogen Mogen Waste! As if design'd to empty brimming Quarts, And when Cork'd up, a Bundle be of — Great King of Belly-Gods, I shake to think What thou wilt be, fill'd up with Barmie Drink! What Face is that which on thy Stomach seems To dare the Sun midst all his glaring Beams? Art thou Long-Parliament without a Head? And that th' old Speaker on thy Girdle-stead? Must in that Womb a House of Commons sit? Frothing and fuming, there their Venom spit? Which open'd, bouncing Votes asperse the Sky, King, Lords bespattering, and whoe're stand by. When Copper reign'd, Malt-worms the Helm did steer, And Nations Rul'd with cut-throat stinging Geer; What from so base a Vessel can we hope Must firment? giddy and mad-headed Tope.

[illustration] Boreas, the north wind, blows on a pitcher, shattering it, as it dries on a bench. The potter, running from his workshop, loses his hat. In the foreground, more vessels are drying on a bench.

Then spake the Jugg; Know, Fool, I am not built For Dagger-ale, and Commoners, a Tilt; Which mild at first, turn Vinegar grown old, Too sharp for Peers, and with their King too bold.

A Merry Boy, the Merriest of the Three, Bespoke, my Predecessor failing, me: Though China Ware, so stands our brittle Fate, That we come broken home, early or late; I must supply his Major-Generals Place, Who after Treatments, and a pittanc'd Grace, All took away, Women, weak Vessels, gone, Cries, Battel bid, those that remain fall on; Bottles forlorn, all French, first sury stands Bravely a while; Short Work make many Hands: Soon routed comes the Main, a stronger Dosse, Surrounding me, my Guard Long-beardle Grosse:

Here Cavaliers true Valor shew indeed, I and my Adamantine Squadrons bleed; Me to a Supernaculum they drain, Then triumph o're the Numbers of the Slain.

But who art thou that makst with me so bold? I hear a Voyce, and feel back-biting Cold; Though in the Sun my Face and Belly bake, Thou makst my Neck and tender Shoulders ake: Yet thou no Sinews, Muscles hast thou none, But vapour'st onely in a Hect'ring Tone; I, th' early Product of this single Day, Have Substance, and a Body, though of Clay; If thou dar'st cope, here I shall stand thy shock, As Waves disperse thee beating gainst a Rock;

Thy muster'd Attoms I'll so disunite, In routed Eddies they themselves shall fight.

When Boreas angry, thus began to huff; Know Dust, know empty Pride, and brittle Stuff, I am a King, with me my fourteen Sons, All Princes, Govern Artick Regions; Seven Eurus Race, seven Zephyres. Daughters Wed, I onely cold lie in a Single Bed, Residing much in Caledonian Coasts Espous'd to Winter, and eternal Frosts:

Great Power I o're those barren Confines vaunt; Invincible Necessity and Want, Joyn'd with my starving Blasts, first sign'd th' Intreague Of their so late dire Covenanting League; Thence march'd we on, with Sword, and Book, & Gun, I Charg'd the South with Snow, with Clouds the Sun, Till Southern Yeomen, holp by Northern Lowns, Trampled on Scutcheons, Crosiers, and Crowns, And topsie-turvie turn'd, in quest of Spoils, Three famous Kingdoms, and two fertile Isles; But thee I for thy sawciness will tear, That such Affronters may of Kings beware.

This said, the angry Prince, lest Breath should fail, Charg'd with Small shot, a Shower of battering Hail, And the o'reweening Vessel at the first In thousand Shards and useless Splinters burst; Pots, Pans, and Pipkins no small Sufferers were, Company their Crime, and onely being there: The Potter wondring at the sudden Clap, Lost in the hurley-burley Storm, his Cap.

Recovering Breath, thus Conquering Boreas said, Conceited Fools such Objects should be made.

MORAL.

Princes should not, till they are Setled in Kingdoms regain'd, a Forein War begin: Great is the Work old Ruins to Repair, And fix 'gainst sudden Gusts their Tottering Chair.

FAB. XXX. Of the Painter and the Devil.

AS in deep Extasie upon a Piece Must Modern Latium stain, and Ancient Greece; The Story various, many Figures in't, A Painter sate; 'mongst which, the Ftend in Print, As most concern'd, must take a special Place, In his own Colours, and true Devils Face: Yet to be Horrid, as the common Guise, Horns, spirie Flames, Fire in his glaring Eyes, His gaping Jaws wyre-drawn from Ear to Ear, Serpents contorted, mix'd with Elf-lockt Hair, Would not stand well: A Devil of the Times, A Demure Fiend, that holds forth Godly Crimes; That Smiling Stabbs, Cheating with Yea and Nay, A handsom Goblin for a Holy-day, He now must Draw: At last he falls to Paint What well might stand for Satan, or a Saint; A China Cacademon, the Fore-ground Fills with bold Shadows, like a Statue, round:

Which whilst he Finish'd, heightning touch by touch, Till, as he fancied, he had Pourtray'd such; Whilst his new Idol he licks o're and o're, A Person enters he ne're saw before:

[illustration] a young artist, surrounded by his tools and with other pictures on the wall, paints a portrait of a bewigged gentleman.

After some Formal Conges, Cap and Knee,

Let me, he said, Sir no Disturbance be; Pray keep your Place: A Virtuose I am, And your Admirer, hither sent by Fame: Though in this Town I long have frequent been, And me perhaps in Publick you have seen, Leading a Troop, or in the Pulpit, where You seldom Visits make; or if you e're To the Long-Parliament had your self addrest, Where nothing past without my Worships Teste, We might have ben acquainted, there I cou'd Have don a Person of your Worth some good; So I till now no means could find to own You, Honou'd Sir, nor make my self thus known.

Whilst th' Artist Eye scarce from his Work did stir, Answering to all, Ah Sir, Your Servant Sir, He thus went on; This Figure newly drawn, Which now you seem so much intent upon, Shews rarely well; you with no sparing Hands Here dropt your Skill: How boldly off it stands! Pray let me ask you, Sir, without offence, Are you acquainted with his Excellence, Or late from the Low-Countries got his Sketch? Howe're, the World the Work shall never match: Or should this be a Fancy all your own, Proving so like that Prince, to me well known, His Sitting spar'd, some means, Sir, might be made, That you may double be, and trebly paid.

Who scarce by th' Artist minded, thus went on, Attention rowsing in a lowder Tone:

Sir, Sir, look up, here stands he whom you paint, Monsieur Deveil, the old Low-Country Saint; In my own likeness thus my self I show, That you may such a Friend in Person know. At this the Painter starts up from his Place, On's Picture stares, then in the Devil's Face: To him affrighted, Hogen Mogen said, Be not so discompos'd, be not afraid; What see you here? no Tempest on my Brow, But all serene, just as you paint me now! There stands my Self, each Lineament as well As if the Picture had been drawn in Hell; And we have several Famous Painters there, 'Mongst whom e're long, You, Sir, expected are; Where we mad Devils, merry Boys, and Wags, Change Fire-brands, mounted on Infernal Hags; And when grown weary of those rougher Sports, We Antiques Dance beyond all Masques in Courts, And have our Poets in their several Desks, Writing Lampoons, Plays Riming, and Bourlesks; We act Ragooe there, Sandie, Tegue, and Thump, And merry are, as when you burnt the Rump. You by this Face my Character may find, These your own Lines are Tables of my Mind, Slight Fire-side Stories, and such idle Dreams: When we are pleas'd, we are in the Extreams. For me so well thus Pencill'd Fiend and fair, I would not Gold present, encreasing Care, Ask something may about your Heart sit warm, Against all Fears and Jealousies to Arm;

Bethink your self of some Rich Jewel, will Keep sweet Contentment in your Bosom still.

The Artist, though much troubled and dismaid, Thought if the Fiend for him a Favor had, He should uncivil be to slight his Grant, Though (thanks to God) he knew no Personal Want.

Then romaging his Brains, he cries, My Wife, O gracious Devil, dearer than my Life, Make her my onely Comfort, Joy of Joys, Else all this Worlds Felicities are Toys. Ah! out of your abundant Goodness grant That none in her Embraces me supplant.

The Fiend reply'd, You know not what you ask; To Translate Kingdoms is an easier Task! I that have plaid the Fiend since two years old, Studied this Point as much as Devil could, Ransack'd the Elements, Earth, Sea, and Hell, Could ne're find such a Charm, nor binding Spell, Nor Locks, nor Keys, nor Adamantine Wall, But when they sweeten once, they break through all.

Yet take this Ring, and put it on; so long As this you wear, none shall you ever wrong; This you of Fears and Jealousies will cure, And your fair Wife for your own Use secure, Safe from all loose Escapes, and wanton Pranks.

He on his Knees giving old Satan Thanks, The flattering Dream and Golden Devil fled, And he lay waking with his Wife in Bed:

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The meaning of the Vision soon he found, His Finger with encircling Hymen crown'd.

MORAL.

Fond Jealousie, a Passion all Extremes, Makes us believe vain Thoughts and idle Dreams: Wives may be True or False to Husbands Beds, But Fancied Horns put Devils in their Heads.

[illustration] Cupid drops flower blossoms as confetti on a couple at their marriage feast. Ladies sit nearby at a table with a small meal, while a lutanist plays a lute or theorbo behind them. In the background, an old man lies on sacks in an open barn.

FAB. XXXI. Of the Rustick and the Flea.

BLood-sucker! thou that thus hast broken in; Committing Burglary upon my Skin, When pleasant Sleep descending from the Pole, Refresh'd with soft Lethaean Dew my Soul; What saist thou Wretch? what Rhet'rick can prevail, That forfeit Life thou payst not on the Nail? Confess and Hang, such Favor I'll not grudge, That am your Executioner and Judge; To an arrested Flea our Yeoman said: When thus the Pris'ner at the Bar did Plead.

Great King of Creatures, pitty my Mishap, Pitty one faln in thy tormenting Trap; Let my sad Story melt thy yielding Soul, To grant a Pardon, or else take Paroll: Thy Prisoner from a Prison scap'd so late, Yet feels the Pressures of that heavy Fate, Where I lay shackled in a ponderous Chain, That did a Hundred Golden Links contain: Throngs from the Town and Country, nay, the Court, To see my cruel Sufferings made their Sport.

Me when my Master had with no small pains Truss'd like a Murderer, up to hang in Chains, He tuter'd to such Activeness and Strength, That Laden I leap'd ninety times my length: Wondring Spectators hem the Tables round, Whilst to the Roof in gemmell'd Gold I bound.

Yet I some Pleasures' midst these Tortures got, On Vermil Cheeks I oft became a Spot; Oft in admiring Ladies Bosoms Top'd, But never more to purchase Freedom hop'd: Me and my Treasure up my Master locks In utter Darkness, in a Silver Box; When o're and o're my lofty Tricks were shown, In such a doleful Dungeon lay I thrown, I, my Jayl open, with no little pains Unyok'd my curbing Links and bridling Chains; At last far off from my deserted Box, I in this Covert hid, your sheltring Flocks: Three Days and Nights I kept that Wollen Hold, Till overcome by Hunger, Thirst, and Cold, I in dark silence neer your Person crept, Feeling your Warmth, hearing you soundly slept. There craving Cerberus had a little Sop, Not much above a quarter of a Drop, Which from your Purple Isle, your Crimson Sea, Could not be mist, yet sav'd a wandring Flea; This all my Crime, A poor Night-walking Thief, Rather than die, made bold with your Relief: Take pity, Sir, since you my Story know, And Life thus forfeited on me bestow.

Then said the Swain, Thou Fables dost devise, Hast hope to save thy Life by telling Lies? Thou wak'st me from a Dream, beshrew thee for't, Loss of the Golden Vision breaks my Heart. To my own Smoky Roofs flung in a trice, From Seats of Bliss, and Joys of Paradise; Such an America, a New-found World, Our gentlest Calms seem ruffled, harsh, and curl'd, To their Screnes; all our Delights, annoys; Felicities of Princes, irksom Toys.

There I beheld Dames never to be match'd, Beauties like Stars, not Painted nor be-patch'd; Nor proudly waddled, but like Clouds did march, With Pace Majestick, through Heavens Crystal Arch:

'Mongst these, a Lady, one most Heavenly Fair, Said, Chear up Friend, no more now toil or care; Spirits no more pour out in briny Sweat, Early and late the Bread of Sorrow cat: But here for ever sport in shady Bowers, Shortning with various Joys the tardie Hours; A thousand Years in Pleasure at the height, Shall like your Lovers Minutes take their flight; Such Venus after-games we here shall play, And ne're be weary, never feel decay.

I ventur'd fair then for a gentle Touch, To Do—what any could, they would as much: When me of all my Hopes thou didst bereave, And with one Pinch awaking, undeceive; Thou rob'dst me, Villain of a Heavenly Wife, And hast confest, so forfeited thy Life.

This said, he squeez'd from him the Blood he go Leaving on either Nail a Purple Spot.

MORAL.

Night-walking Jades, whilst they Embrace, they Rob; The sweet Dream flying, leaves an empty Fob: Most steal for Want; for Pleasure few, or Spite; Yet some in Frolicks do the Gallows right.

[illustration] a bird lies dead on a coffin on a hilltop above the sea. The eagle hovers over it with the oyster in its beak. In the background ships sail on the sea by a coastal town.

FAB. XXXII. Of the Eagle, Oyster, Hare, and Daw.

A Huge Drag-Oyster, Prince of all the Bed, 'Mongst others born to Market, almost dead, The Trotter from his many hundreds drops In a High-way, hedg'd by a sheltering Cops: Kemlin the Hare this Monster heard fall down, And saw full Dorsors jogging to the Town, Whom drawing near, admiring she beholds One like no Bird nor Beast, in Woods or Woalds! Curious, her Foot, just as the Oyster gasp'd, She vent'ring in, the two-leav'd Volume clasp'd; Thrice try'd she how to make the Monster gape, As oft, if with her Clog she might escape; But all in vain, the Remora stuck fast, And her to Parley thus enforc'd at last.

Whate're thou art, Sea-wonder, Bird, or Beast! The first that e're I ventur'd on, to Feast, Free my grip'd Foot: You are a Stranger sure! And under Fortunes Frown, not here secure; And I'll to th' Ocean, if you Water lack, With a strong Convoy bear you on my Back, See you in safety setled there my self, In the deep Streams, or bedded on a Shelf:

Deluded with false Hopes, the Oyster gapes, And thence, this said, ingrateful Kemlin scapes; No more her Promise nor Engagement minds, But to the Hills out-strips the Western Winds.

The Eagle look'd upon them all the while, In one Dish plotting both to reconcile, Lest this should also scape, the Monarch stoop'd, Made seizure of the Prey so strongly coop'd, Invested with a rough and double Shell, Hard as the Adamantine Gates of Hell.

He whets his Beak, his hooked Talons grinds, Charg'd often, and as oft Repulses finds; Three times she opening Out-works, put him to't, Once by his Beak, twice hanging by his Foot: But whilst the panting King Cessation made, His wide Mouth opening, thus the Oyster said.

This Fortress onely Steel or Fire must win, Your Bill and Claws I value not a Pin; Who first to Storm my rough-cast Out-works dar'd, A King, the valiant'st Man alive, declar'd, His Knife then slipping, I but rac'd his Skin, And this Great Champion dy'd of a Gangrene.

The Daw observing from Heavens Crystal Vaults How much in vain were all his strong Assaults, Thus to his Master said; The wish'd-for Prize Bear to the Middle-Region of the Skies, Then drop th' obdurate on you harder Rock, So you your Siege shall finish at one shock.

The Counsel pleas'd, the Eagle in a trice Scal'd Galleries stor'd with Rain, Snow, Hail, and Ice;

There perpendicular takes steady aim, And on hard Marble down the Oyster came, The breaches clattering like a Thunder-crack, The Fort lay open for the least Attack; In leaps the Daw, and streight to Plunder falls, There leaving fractur'd Shells and broken Walls.

Then said the King, Though vex'd, I needs must laugh, Thus to be cheated by a cozening Chough: But if I ever catch the Rook at Court, I'll keep him in my Kitchen fasting sor't; There he shall starve, or, e're he get one Bit, Petition to be beaten with the Spit.

MORAL.

Who deal with Princes, drive a subtle Trade, When large Bills swell, for worthless Trifles made: Who make such Audits mount a thousand ways, The King's too hard for them, he never pays.

FAB. XXXII. Of the Cedar and the Shrub.

A Cedar whose tall Branches did extend To kiss the Sky, and Roots to Hell descend, Puff'd up with Pride, swoln with vain Folly big, Owl'd with a Bush and staring Periwig, Which Madam May curl'd for his Summer Cap, To drop off with the first Autumnal Clap, Thus proudly spake unto a neighboring Shrub:

Thou inconsiderate ill-manner'd Grub, When I vouchsafe to look thus down on thee, Scorn'st thou to stoop, and bow that Wooden Knee? When by my Kindness thou art happy made, From Wind and Sun protected by my Shade!

Knowst thou not me, whose Arms build Tow'rs and Towns, Whose Knees make floating Cities on the Downs? The strongest Marble Arch, without my Wood, Ne're stood the Violence of a second Flood; If my huge Branches strengthen not the Frame, Down comes the Structure, like a Millers Dam: Nay more, on me the Royal Eagle Builds; The Lion and his Train that range the Fields, When Boreas huffs, or scorching Phaebus burns, My Leafy Shadow to his Palace turns:

[illustration] Three men fell a large tree, one with an axe, the other two guiding its direction with a rope.

The Mexicans, as flying Fame reports, Not onely of, but in me build their Courts.

The vain Tree boasting thus, no end had made, But that the Ax unto the Root was laid; Then boystrous Blows resound, and thundring Strokes, Such bring proud Cedars low, and sturdy Okes.

The Bush then seeing how her palsied Crown Sunk by Degrees, just ready to drop down, Spake to the Dying, at her latest Gasp, In Deaths Convulsions trembling like an Asp.

Hadst thou been Mean as I, th' hadst scap'd all Tax, Nor hadst thou been condemned to the Ax; Thou that so late contemn'st an Heuricane, Charg'd with Hail-shot, and Deluges of Rain, Those Covenanting Brethren Thirty two, Winds that not onely Threaten, but can Do, That Spring and Fall, each Change of Weather fly, Not only to the ruin of the Sky, But in their rage whate're Monarchick, bear O're Sea and Land, and sweep them through the Air▪ Your Parts and Riches, that you so did crack, Though Tempests could not, lay you on your Back; I Arm'd with Poverty, thus Mean and Low, Defie the Hatchet, and all Winds that blow.

MORAL.

Who have whate're their Wishes could devise, Should ne're the poor and abject'st Worm despise; When altering Time, and sickle Fortunes frown Brings oft the Proudest in a Moment down.

FAB. XXXIV. Of the Rustick and the Wolf.

A Testy Swain, when Beatings not avail'd, His Ox with Execrations thus assail'd; Legion, ten thousand Devils on thee fall, And eat thy Quarters up, Atch-bones and all; Like Summer-flies upon thee feasting sit, Not leaving Poor and Serving-Fiends a Bit:

But if for Beasts such Spirits little care, Turks, Heathens, Jews, and Sectaries their Fare Who living Rebels swallow'd at a Gulph Once Three and twenty thousand, take him Wolf; Thou that now haunt'st these Downs, let Isgrim's Cub Powder thee up, a Dish for Belzebub; Or let thy Wife, with Salt and Pepper strow'd, In Collers roll the up, Beef a-la-mode.

The Patrezaring Wolf, who lay in wait, Hearing the Rustick rail at such a rate, Himself discovering, thus puts in his Claim:

I take you at your Word, Sir, here I am; Swains, such as you, are punctual and just, Keep Promise, and prove Faithful to their Trust; When the Nobless, and Peerage of the Land, Never pay Debts, and rarely clear a Bond:

[illustration] a man leading an ox and plough threatens a wolf with his staff. In the background, wolves in men's clothes converse, the farmer threatens the wolf with his knife, and the dog jumps down from a well where the wolf is trapped.

Nay, Citizens, and those of primer Rank, Whose Credits stand unquestion'd as the Bank, Crack unexpected, and not then prove sound, When Nine-pence for a Noble they Compound: Deliver up your Grant, the Bullock pay, And I'll discharge you to this present Day.

Then said the Swain, What Bullock? who are you? That talk'st of Grants, and mak'st so much ado? Art thou his Son that sav'd Sir Reynard's Skin? Puppy, begon, I owe thee not a Pin.

The Wolf reply'd, Think not to put me off, My Due demanding, with a slighting Scoff: Though you your racking Landlords so do pay, Put Nine Months off beyond their Quarter-day, I look you should be punctual; this my Steer Deliver streight, or it will cost thee dear.

Who thus return'd, Fond Isgrim, prate no more, I gave this Bullock to the Devil before, The first Grant stands; but two besides you yet Put earlier Titles in, my Pot, and Spit.

This said, he calls his Dog behind the Hedge, Who, little thought on, rais'd his formal Siege; Thence in disorder the raw Soldier scudds, To sheltring Quarters in th' adjacent Woods.

Young Isgrim worsted by a Bumkin Blade, At first thus broken setting up his Trade, His Reputation crack'd, so much o're-match'd, Labors his Brains, and all Occasions watch'd His Credit to redeem, obtain his Right, Or try his Fortune in a Single Fight.

At last the Rustick and his Ox he found, Fallow converting into Furrow-ground; To whom he said, Unconscionable Clown, To hold me from my Right, and what's my Own, Whilst I, my Wife, and Children, almost sterve: Ah Heavens! what Punishment do they deserve, Who care not whom they Rob, nor how they Cheat, Widows and Orphans Goods, like Morsels, eat; Resolve whate're they gather so to keep, Yet as supinely as poor Poets sleep? But now thou shalt no longer me evade, Spite of thy Dog, and Devil, I'll be paid. In quiet then deliver up this Steer, Take my Acquittance, and your Audit's clear.

The Swain observ'd how sharp-set Isgrim look'd, Ready to eat him and his Ox uncook'd: Absent his Dog, in danger of his Life, Streight Arms he disconceals, and draws his Knife, Putting himself in posture of Defence:

Then said, Come on, your Martial Suit commence; With this I'll trounce your Tripes, your Gullet rip, Inspect thy Bowels, and thy Body strip; Thy Head cut off, I'll carry to the Kirk, The Parish pays me for so good a Work.

The Wolf, startled at Kirk, and much dismay'd At his bright Arms, and bold Defiance, said,

Short as you are, as Confident I am Thee to subdue, as if a Kid or Lamb, Trusting my Strength, my Courage, and my Cause: But my Humanity puts in a Clause.

My Mother was a Caledonian Dame, Lay-Elder-like, War-Wolf my Grandsire came, And 'midst Devotion mingled Venus Work, As she at Prayers lay groveling in the Kirk, 'Midst Groans and feign'd Contrition, her embrac'd, And pregnant swell'd her then no little Waste: Some few Months after she had play'd the Rig, With Wolvish Seed, and Calvinism big, With that fermenting Covenant enrag'd, Against th' Episcopacy she engag'd, Threw the first Stone, and after that, her Chair, Lawn-sleeves upbraiding, and New Common-Prayer: The Signal given, with a hideous Yell The Commers, that sold Cabages and Kell, Thunder at once, Stools, Cushions, Stones, and Mire, Distain'd the Maggie's Pontifick Attire: My Grannie so begun those fatal Broils Inflam'd three Kingdoms, and two spacious Isles:

Therefore since you and I may be ally'd, By Arbitration let the Case be try'd: Wars doubtful are, and long expensive Laws; Let him who first we meet decide the Cause, And to his Judgment promise both to stand. On this th' Agreed, and Seal'd a Counter-bond.

MORAL.

Who ventures on a Foe, and then falls back, Makes like a Pistol without Ball, a Crack: When to take up the Business, Friends he moves, Braggart himself both Fool and Coward proves.

FAB. XXXV. 2. Of the Rustick and the Wolf.

NOr long with Talk did they the Time beguile, When busie Reynard whips me o're the Stile, Whose Sire th' old Fox bred with much Care and Cost Up to the Law, nor his Endeavors lost; Lucrative Studies, early he, and late, To Master strove, whence Wealth grows spite of Fate, If they to Pleading come, will Sweat, and Trudge: When both thus said, Behold an able Judge.

So after Conges, to their Work they fell, And each their Tale to best advantage tell.

Then said the Fox, To this you'l both abide? I, I, at once the Swain and Wolf reply'd.

Then first apart he with the Rustick goes, And thus affrights; Your Case, Sir, fouly shows: You have confest, primo Leonis, th' Act Casts you, 'gainst those with Evil Spirits Contract; You to the Devil made a Deed of Gift: If such Work once we Lawyers come to sift, You are undone, your Life in danger too; Witches have burnt for doing less than you; Victims to promise, execrations Charms, The Bullock falls to him that first informs:

Not Friends at Court would fetch you off, nor Gold, Should any lay on this Advantage hold.

The nettled Swain, with many ill-made Legs, Of his Furr'd Foxship kind Assistance begs; Whatever Goods and Lands, though ne're so Rich, Let him dispose, e're suffer for a Witch.

Who thus reply'd; To make your Business mine, Your Purse must stretch, whatever I design; A Counsellor or two we first must make, Each may a dozen of your Capons take; These in the Breach must stand, make good the Gap, And may, perhaps, your Cause e're Hearing stop. The Bullock send unto the Lion's Guard, So get your Pardon, and be never Heard: Me a fat Goose, some Chickens for my Wife, And we, I warrant, soon shall hush all strife.

This to perform, himself the Rustick ty'd: When cunning Reynard thus young Isgrim ply'd;

So please your Wolfship, you were much to blame, To lay your Title in the Devil's Name, For the foul Fiend; Ah Heavens! Appearance make! Your wary Sire did never so mistake, Though he did often Satan well advise, And could out-lie the Father of all Lies: Whene're to canvasing your Besiness comes, One Load of Fagots will prove both your Dooms. Your own Confessions (Ah! not me employ) The Plaintiff and Defendant will destroy. But more than this, your loud Contest I find, And wrangling in such Passion, taking Wind,

A Bird hath carried, and no false Report, To the King's Ear, and to his hungry Court: There, Tables down, they empty lye, and watch, Like greedy Fish, whatever Prey to catch; I saw them bussle, cringe, and making Legs; This urges Service, that his Promise begs: Be sudden, Sir, else soon you'l say, I fear, You had a fair Estate, and once you Were. With Sheep, and fatted Lambs, Peace-offerings make What's all your Worth, when Life lies at the Stake A Drolling Favorite, and less serious Peer, Shall, brib'd, although accus'd of Treason, clear. My Uncle, now in old Lord Isgrim's Place, Shall, with a Present, gain the Lion's Grace. Send all to me, and I'll your Gifts dispose, Confirm your Friends, and molifie your Foes.

The Wolf thus nettled, said, All this I'll do, Whate're 'twill cost me, I'll my Pardon sue.

Thus subtle Reynard ended their Debates, Sharing no little Part of their Estates.

MORAL.

Business to Lawyers Arbitration put, Whoever Shuffles, they the first will Cut, Go on each side a Snip, nor care two Pins, So they fill up their Mouths, which Party Wins.

[illustration] an eagle hovers overhead while a jackdaw, trapped in the fleece of a sheep's back, is mocked by small boys. In the background is a field of sheep, a small wood and a large castle.

FAB. XXXVI. Of the Eagle and the Chough.

THe Royal Eagle down like Lightning came, And truss'd in griping Sears a tender Lamb; Then to a Cedars Crown that kiss'd the Skies, To his expecting Aery bears the Prize.

This slight a Chough with admiration saw, Who long had been a Student in the Law:

Then said, Why toil we thus at Inns of Courts, Sweating at Breviates, Cases, and Reports? Drain Ployden, Dyar, Littleton, and Cokes, About a Jack-a Styles and John-a-Nokes? Attend seven Years e're call'd unto the Bar, When Sutes no Fortunes raise, like Chance of War? We a long Life may spend, and sweating trudge, To be a Tell-clock, or a gowty Judge; Make Term by Term the Hall with Pleadings ring; When one Field, one short Battel, Crowns a King. We spin out Causes, Clients to beguile: One Lucky Hit concludes the Soldiers Toil. We onely Fleecers be; this Eagle came, And made one Business both of Fleece and Lamb. Litigious Fools Estates we oft impair, Get for our selves, perhaps, the better share;

But if in Military Power they fall, Their Lands are swallowd, Moveables and all.

Law and the Gown farewell; I'll now turn Blade. Design he puts in Action, soon as said, And with a lofty Flight cuts ambient Skies, Thence stooping, a fat Weather makes his Prize: Then with his Load thinking to cleave the Clouds, He found himself entrapp'd in Woollen Shrowds; His Claws and Shanks entangled stuck so deep, That he lay Pris'ner to his Captive Sheep; As casie he might raise this pondrous Work, As bear to Heaven a Covenanting Kirk.

The fond Bird snapp'd thus in a Fleecie Gin, The more he labors, sticks the faster in; The Wooll like Quick-sands working, deeper drew About his Claws the intricated Clew.

A Swain observing his ambitious Flight, A Gowned Lawyer now turn'd Errant Knight, Thus smiling said, Welcom from Inns of Court, Since you take pleasure in Wars cruel Sport, I'll bring you to a Regiment of Wags, Who from the Fair, mounted on Hobby-Nags, With Treble Fiddle, Tabers, Pipes, and Drums, All Merry Boys, and each his Rattle, comes. He gives him to the Childish Troop, this said; They lay by Nifels, and their trifling Trade, And streight the Fondlings seizing, pull and hale, His Wings they clip, and mutilate his Tail; And thronging round, they question, ask his Name, His Nation, Parents, Age, and whence he came?

VVho sighing, thus reply'd; I, now your Sport, VVas bred a Lawyer at the Inns of Court; Thence, like the soaring Eagle, thought to flie From Chamber-work, to Practise in the Skie: But I now finding how I was mistook, Confess my self a Temple-garden Rook.

MORAL.

Those who Experience, Strength, or Courage lack, Taking a Tartar, may themselves attack: But to be Sport for Boys and loytering Jacks, Little of an Infernal Torture lacks.

FAB. XXXVII. Of the Tyger and the Fox.

WHen Hunting Nimrods first began to shoot, And at strange distance aiming, execute; Before in Squadrons able Bow-men stood, Dimming Noon Sun-beams with a Feather'd Wood, Against Wild Beasts they practice new-found Skill, And Quadrupeds felt onely biting Steel: When in the Forest this dire Work began, What God they knew not, or more cruel Man Them thus afflicted; out they could not start, But here a Heifer drops, and there a Hart.

No Foe in sight; but loe! th' Infernal Hag Tisiphone, or else some direr Plague, Brought a Destruction not to be controll'd, None sparing, neither Sex, nor Young, nor Old: So durst they not from sheltring Coverts draw, But there lay pining with an empty Maw.

When a bold Tyger thus inquir'd the Cause; You Forest-Rangers now who know no Laws, But your own Wills, who Pleasure onely serve, What makes you thus pent up to lie and sterve? Or what Scorbutick Humor stops your Blood, That thus you languish here, and seek no Food?

[illustration] a fox looks on a tiger, shot with an arrow, lying in a rocky landscape. The archer stands partially concealed behind a tree.

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When one reply'd, We dare not take the Field, Unless protected with a Tortoise Shield: Clouds that with Jove's Artillery assail, Lightning and Thunder, Wind, Snow, Rain, and Hail, Ne're us surpriz'd, shelter'd in Dens and Holes; Now not a black Patch seen 'twixt either Poles, Some God from clear Expansions Bolts lets flie, Unwing'd with warning Tempest, so we die: Or if we scape hurt by unseen Serenes, The Wound not mortal, perish of Gangrenes; And if we fall where shot, the Lords of Lands Make us their Prize, and seize for Deodands: So we resolve to spend here latest Breath, Since of all Deaths the worst is sudden Death.

Then said the Tyger, Man o're Beasts hath odds, As much as over Men Immortal Gods; But be it Humane, Heavenly Power, or Hells, That kills at once, and works such Miracles, I'll venture a Discovery to make, And good or bad whate're my Fortune take.

This said, the Bold and Nimble waves Disputes, And Reason baffled, from the Covert shoots: No sooner forth, an Archer him discern'd, Stalking and gazing, as not much concern'd; His Tackle ready, close in Ambuscade, Drawing his Shaft, thus he to Phoebus pray'd.

Grant that you Monster with the haughty Garb May receive Sentence from this deadly Barb; Give Pride a fall; this Arrow in his Breast, Make me the Master of his curious Vest,

Which prizing next to Royal Ermin, shall Hang a gay Trophic up in Skinners Hall.

Whilst he at Fears and Vulgar Errors laught, Apollo grants, and he dismist the Shaft; Making no obstacle, a Rib it broke, And through his Bowels fixt upon an Oke.

He felt strange Agonies through every Part, And Deaths Convulsions shake his trembling Hear Strikes, tears, and flings, till almost out of breath, Th' arrested Patient falls, expecting Death: At his last gasp, whilst yielding up his Soul, Spake thus slie Reynard, peeping from his Hole:

You that but now to venture were so hot, What? Sink you at a Privateer's first Shot? A close Back-biter, that can well defame, You ne're shall see, and he ne're miss his Aim: You are a Courtier in the Lion's Woods, There you may find many such Robin Hoods, That from the King's own Ear their Aim shall take, And though in Favor, an Example make.

MORAL.

Back-biters oft infuse such lasting Stains, That blemish Heirs in after Princes Reigns: A stand rous Tongue, although upon no ground, For ever may fair Reputation wound.

[illustration] a crowned eagle with sceptre in its talon stands on a pedestal in an archway surrounded by other birds of prey with pikes and spears in their talons. Other birds look up at them from below.

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FAB. XXXVIII. Of the Eagle and other Birds.

ATyrant Eagle, that had dispossest His Royal Master, and enjoy'd his Nest, Which more to Feather, he a thousand ways, And griping Counsel, studies how to raise:

His pack'•• up Parliaments gave what he would, Enough to build him Forts and Ships of Gold; Yet though all sorts of Birds were plum'd and pill'd, His Clemm'd Exchequers Belly never fill'd; Loan, Taxes, Pole, his Custom and Excise, Lost in their Ri••••••s, yield scarce no Supplies; Collectors and Receivers, Rooks and Kites, Snip Pounds to Pence, and Shillings into Mites: The Tyrant by Necessity put to't, Monopolies and Projects sets afoot.

At last Religion cloaks his impious Aims, So he an Annual Holy-day Proclaims To Aquila his Grandsire, who now bears Joves punishing Thunder in his hooked Sears. At last the Day of Solemnization came, From all Parts gathering Birds both Wild and Tame; Peacocks and Geese, Turkies, Wild-ducks, and Cranes The Decoy-Temple throng, with several Trains:

They look'd that Griffons there they should behold, And Flying Horses, Wing'd with Angel-Gold! There Birds of Paradise! There, would appear Phoenix, scarce seen once in five hundred year! But, ah! In stead of Gaudy, Armed Birds, Bed-Chamber Harpies, Kites, and Craven Lords, A Guard with griping Tallons ready stood, Those fatal Vespers to conclude in Blood: Whilst all with sudden Consternations shake, Thus the Usurper in rough Language spake.

We with our urgent Wants, and rising Charge, Oft mildly have acquainted you at large, Supposing well Our Aims you understood, Not Private seeking, but the Publick Good: But be it what it will, no more now shall Our Will and Pleasure question'd be at all; Since Fate hath put me in the Royal Chair, Of blasted Reputation I'll beware; No more I'll wheedle now, cajole, or beg, Make my own Subjects, for my Right, a Leg: But those who boldly oft did me oppose, Proscrib'd, shall all now suffer here as Foes; I'll make this day prime Offerings of their Blood, To Aquilla, Our Grandsire, and Our God.

This said, his Guard at once upon them falls, Turning expected Feasts to Funerals: In Heaps lay Massacred the Fat and Tame, The Rich were Criminals, and most to blame, The Eagle glad his cruel Project took, Unto his bloody Murtherers thus spoke.

Who would be Absolute, a Real King, By Fear must down Seditious Subjects bring: Who goes about a Crimson Deed by Ha'ves, If one 'mongst thousands his sond Mercy saves, That proves his Ruin, by imperfect Work. Off the Prime Heads at once of Poppies jerk, Then Rule alone: Howe're, a Tyrant's brave, Descending all in Scarlet to the Grave.

MORAL.

Kings, as inclin'd, on several Hinges move; This scorns the Peoples Hate, that courts their Love: But who with general liking quiet Reigns, A skilful Riders Reputation gains.

FAB. XXXIX Of the Pedlar and his Ass.

MUst I be always at this heavy pass, Still the Sides tawing of a stubborn Ass? Will you not mend your Pace, so light your Load, Such pleasant Weather, and so fair a Road? Thus to his restie Beast the Master said, Whilst tabring on his Coat the Cudgel plaid: But he the Storm with surly patience stood, As if a Sea-wash'd Rock, or made of Wood; Nor more would from his Resolution budge, Then the severest Sentence-passing Judge. Since Blows could not his tender Conscience force, He thus assaies him with a milder Course.

Jog Assinego, step by step, make proof Of this smooth Tract, with your imprinting Hoof; Here are no Plashes, Clods, nor lumpy Clay, Here, had we time, us two at Dice might play: No more I'll wreak my Anger on thy Ribs, But my self feed thee at replenish'd Cribs, And like a Lord, although an Ass, attend, And Filly-foal shall be thy Bosom-friend.

Not so the Polish Chapman and his Mag Rais'd vast Estates, a Callowray their Nag,

[illustration] a man threatens his laden donkey, collapsed on the road under a tree, with a stick. In the background is a large house.

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Still chearful bore his Wealth-encreasing Pack, Till he march'd forth a General from a Jack.

When thus grown desperate, spake the moody Beast, Thee, and thy Fairs and Markets, I detest; After so many Stripes, that me wouldst sooth, To settle early in thy Cheating Booth: Last night your Guz'ling got into your Pate, And I must suffer, cause you rose so late. My Father told me, dying, whom you made Like me, your Slave, like me, your Pack-horse Jade, You more by favoring of that Rebel Scot, Than by your Pedling, this your Fortune got: You with seditious Pamphlets stuff'd your Load, Long e're Mercuriusses appear'd abroad, Before Fame plum'd on Paper Wings could flie, Plain Truth trod under by proud Madam Lie, Fill'd the illiterate Dorps and Country Towns With Cleaver's works, with Subtcliff's, Dod's, & Brown's; On every Shelf and Cup-boards-head they lay, Opening to grand Rebellion the way. My hapless Father, at his latest Breath, Laid to your Loads and Cruelty his Death; I suffering thus like him, resolve so too, And dying here, my Murther lay on you.

This said, no longer he sustains his Load, But stretch'd himself athwart the beaten Road.

When to the Desperate, thus th•• Inrag'd replies; Wilt thou lye here, not do thy Work, nor rise? If to the Devil thou intend'st to go, I'll find thee Tortures worse than those below;

Thy endless Beatings shall fill all Parts with din, I'll in twelve Tabers cantle out thy Skin; At Childrens Feasts, at Puppet-plays, and Fairs, Those restless Furies, Puddings, Apes, and Hares, Shall Taw thy Hide, and with perpetual noise, Call to lewd Shews, light Girls, and loytring Boys: Perpetual Bastings, always to be slamm'd, If thou so well approv'st, Die and be damn'd.

The Ass then in a melanenoly vein, Splenetick fumes suggesting Hell and Pain, Dire Tortures after Death! began to think, No lucid Intervals, no Meat nor Drink! But always Furies labouring on his Pelt! Better that Hell wherein he living dwelt, Where he 'mongst Toil and blows might rest and feed: Then rising, he out-went an Asses speed.

MORAL.

Such Criminals whom soft nor threatning Words Will make confess, cock'd Pistols, nor drawn Swords; Tell them of Tortures, and Infernal Flames, That brings all out, and greatest Monsters tames.

[illustration] the king of the apes, crowned and in human dress, holds his son up on a hilltop for Jupiter's (or Jove's) blessing. His ape-soldiers crowd behind him, holding pikes. In the valley beneath the apes, an assortment of other animals look up at the apes.

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FAB. XL. Of Jupiter and the Ape.

TRansform'd to Wolves by Jove, Lycaon's Race: Once more themselves transform to Babes of Grace; The brisly Beast a Sheep-skin Tunick clouds, And they, though living, walk in Woollen Shrouds: Thus carrying on a damnable Design, Not Heaven to take by Storm, but undermine; Monarchick Power up Root and Branch they'l grub; Thundring from Hell, the Pulpit, and the Tub, Heavens Gates not battering, thus they will unhinge, To satiate both their Avarice and Revenge; And Lords of the Ascendant, swallow down Bright Constellations, Jewels of the Crown, Level Revenues, share his Starry Robes, Joyning Coelestial and Terrestrial Globes.

Which Jove perceiving, soon remembred well How on his Palace Earth-born Bumkins fell, Those ranting Tytanois in hurley-burley, (Like ruder Sea-men after Pay grown surley) Strove Heavens Twelve Houses down at once to tear, Crying They all Light Venus Mansions were.

Then said Great Jove, Wolves threaten my Aboads, Their Faction powerful grown 'mongst favoring Gods: What shall I do? And Man's deceitful Stock, Though me with loaden Altars they invoke, Yet in the Giants War not one did list, Nor Us in that great Exigence assist: Well, I with Beasts will fight the Bestial Foe; Commissioning our Quadrupeds below.

This said, he musters up both Wild and Tame; All free from this so dire Infection came:

'Mongst these, the King of Apeland did engage, Attended with a Gallick Equipage, Trunk-hos'd Baboons, and Livery'd Drills, Lacqueis, Which Jove himself took pleasure on to gaze: When drawing neer, with John-an-Apes his Son, Thrice Congeing, to the Thunderer thus begun.

Though in our Kingdom Pulpit-Wolves we have, Hyena's, such as make the Vulgar rave; Yet by our Care not far their Poyson taints, Within our Walls preach no dissembling Saints; Free from the Witchcraft of their powerful Charms, I'll forty thousand thee present in Arms, 'Gainst all the World my Army I'll maintain To march up Hill, and so come down again.

But for this Service one small Boon I beg, Behold my Son, thus mounted on one Leg, Which if that Miracles not yet are ceas'd, Stands th' onely Wonder betwixt Man and Beast!

Should I his Qualities but reckon, they Would take up the whole Business of the day; Therefore, great King of Kings, on him bestow Some Grant that may your signal Favors show.

Then Jove reply'd; To give shall be my task; And you to find, what's worth your while to ask, Present me your desires, what you would have? As ready I'm to grant, as you to crave.

Nor long consulting th' Apeland Monarch stays; But thus upon his Knee Jove humbly prays:

Since you are pleas'd my Off-spring to advance, Make him a King, a good King John of France: E're Rolls of Fate (some say) are quite unfurl'd, An Apish Prince may Rule the VVestern VVorld; I beg this, Sir, upon our Injuries score, Forces to Land upon the British Shore, My Brother, and his Uncle, to redeem From Paris-garden, one I much esteem, VVhom now at Pension amongst nasty Bears, A guarded Jerkin without Breeches wears, There making Pastime on a gall'd Horse back, And though a Prince at home, they call him Jack.

To be the King of France, said angry Jove! On such a high Concern no further move; The French King might have past, he not unfit To Rule that Nation by his Parts and VVit:

But since he after such Preferment gapes, To be a Monarch, though a Jack-an-Apes, Your Brother and his Uncle never shall From Paris-Garden be releas'd at all; But when his Master please, shew Tricks, and Dance, To meanest Subjects of the King of France.

MORAL.

Clandestine Plots more dangerous are by far; Than all Hostilities of open War: Let your Petitions modest be, and fit, And ten to one if any thing you get.

[illustration] Mercury (or Hermes), with winged sandals and helmet, and caduceus, returns a hatchet to the carpenter, kneeling beneath a tree. In the background is a Pantheon (or round temple) on a hill, and a group of people outside a smaller building.

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FAB. XLI. Of the Carpenter and Mercury.

THis Artist, who no small Task undertook, No petty Tenements, nor paltry Nook, Nor for some Trees contracted, but whole VVoods, To build a stately Temple for the Gods, A huge Pantheon, where they all must stand That e're were worshipp'd yet in any Land, And empty Nieches left for many more, New Lights might move hereafter to implore. Each where the Groves resound with boystrous strokes, And falls of groaning Pines, and dying Okes; His VVork he plies, so that in Ranks and Files Thick stands a Forest in congested Piles.

This Alteration setled Eagles felt, VVho had in Cedar Courts three Ages dwelt, Supposing the Estate for ever theirs, At least, long Leases for themselves and Heirs: 'Mongst these, he on a special Tree did look, Perinsuled with an incircling Brook; 'Mongst spreading Boughs, that dangled o're the stream, He fancied one would make a fitting Beam, VVhich striding, while he Sprigs and Foliage tops, Busie to clear the VVork, his Hatchet drops

'Mongst troubled VVaters, hard to be regain'd, Deep with a Shower, dark with fermented Sand: Then the Coelestials all he did implore, His Ax, employ'd for them, they would restore.

VVhen Hermes, whom this Artist late had Carv'd, And much for such a Master-piece deserv'd, VVhich in his Shop shew'd like an unlick'd Bear, But an eighth VVonder mounted in the Air, VVith his Caduceus, standing on one Leg, Appearing, said, In a good Hour you beg, You building are the Gods a stately Fane, VVho work for them, they hear, when they complain

VVho thus reply'd; My Ax, whilst here I lopt Boughs for their Service, in the River dropt; Lately new edg'd, and fitted to my Hands, VVhich whilst I want, a Turret tottering stands.

This said, the God descends, and in a Thought Him from deep Streams a Golden Hatchet brought, Asking if that were his; which when he spy'd, That's none of mine, I dropt none such he cry'd; I ne're had any Ax shin'd half so bright; For service mine, more than for shew and sight.

Thence Hermes diving, brings another Bait, Both Helve and Hatchet all of massie Plate. That neither, cries the Artist, that's not mine.

Finding no Fraud to answer his Design, Hermes well-pleas'd, presents him with his own, Dipt thrice in Styx, Stick-free 'gainst Steel and Stone, More worth than thrice its weight in solid Gold, VVhose Edge should never blunt, never grow old.

Whilst he gives thanks, commixt with Vows & Pray'rs, The disappearing God to Heaven repairs.

MORAL.

Artists whose Square a Leather Apron girds, Articles bind not, Promises, nor Words: Their worthy Company small Musters makes, That for their own, would leave a Golden Ax.

FAB. XLII. 2. Of the same Carpenter and Mercury.

WHilst pratling Fame this to his Servants told, Their Master had refus'd an Ax of Gold; Amongst these, one, who, 'midst their emptying Pots, Drew on wet Tables Ichnographick Plots, Models, and Forms; this heard, his Fancy racks, How to be Master of a Golden Ax: Hot on his new-laid Project, thence he slips, And on the same Tree mounted, hews, and chips; Then (as design'd) straining a Branch to lop, Down lets his Hatchet in the Water drop, And to the Gods conceives these feigned Prayers:

You Powers that pittying look on Mens Affairs, And the most abject help when they implore, My Hatchet, ah! my Hatchet me restore; Which wanting, I shall ne're perform my Work, Though but to build a Caledonian Kirk.

Hermes the Hypocrite's Petition heard, And above Waves with a bright Ax appeared, And thus, who durst trepan the Gods, trepann'd; If this be yours, this Hatchet, ease my Hand, Which I'm not able longer up to hold, Although a Deity, all of massie Gold;

Stoop, stoop, Friend, quickly, and receive your own. Which said, the Wretch streight bending, tumbled down, And at Shades grasping, fell into the Stream, Where soon he waken'd from his Golden Dream; Thence scrabling out, safe on the River side, He at his Girdle his own Hatchet spy'd, And at the Transformation wondring stood, The Helve turn'd Marble, and the Steel grown Wood: When thus he said, A very fine Exploit, To get a Golden Ax not worth a Doit.

MORAL.

Artists that Toil, hard Livings wring from Sweat, Strangely affect what's purchas'd by a Cheat: Who Courts or Churches Build, or else Repair, Of such John Joyners let them take some care.

FAB. XLIII. Of the Dog and Wolf.

THis Dog with care attends his Masters Flocks, Protecting from the Wolf and subtle Fox, Long winter nights would walk his Rounds, & watch'd, For Trust and Assiduity unmatch'd: Yet for perpetual Vigils, constant Guards, Blows and long Lents were onely his Rewards, Who for such Pains Encouragement deserv'd, Neglected went, clemm'd up, and almost sterv'd.

To whom, thus Isgrim at a Parley spake; You that such Pains for Blows and Hunger take, Adventuring Life so oft, and nothing spare, But Bare-bones to be call'd for all your Care; I wonder at, and pitty, though a Foe, Others that serve your Master are not so; His Auditors, and those that bear the Bag, Their Sides are larded, their stuff'd Bellys sag; Who set his Lands, and Tenements demise. Their Cheeks and Noses Bow-dy'd Searlet dyes.

Who thus reply'd; I'm but his Shepherd's Dog: Spaniels and Foysting-hounds, that lie and cog, Filling his Ears with Tales and idle Prate, Pick up their Crums, when out soon me they rate:

[illustration] the dog and wolf confront each other. In the background, in front of a large house, shepherds guard a flock of sheep, and the dog catches the wolf by the leg as the wolf runs away with a lamb in its mouth.

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He values more a Fool, or sawcie Knave, Than one whose Wisdom might a City save: Our Lord great Places holds, hath store of Lands, Of which, no more than I, he understands; He knows not what his Rents are, what his Books, Nor Business, onely after Pleasure looks; Let them with Forty Pieces stuff his Fob, To lose at Gaming, or rig forth some Drab, His work there ends, that done, concludes all Cares, Both of the Publick, and his own Affairs; Let Ships and Cities be consum'd in Flame, All's one to him, his Principles the same.

Then Isgrim said, Once take a Foes advice; Would you new sheath'd, and fat be in a trice? Fancy me yonder Lamb, I'll ask no more, Ne're to your Belly after run ascore: And this the means; I'll seize your Cur-ships Gift, Follow you me, I know you fierce and swift; When you are neer, just catching at my Throat, Feigning, fall down, and let me take my Lot: This will your Master, and the rest observe, And for their own ends you no more shall sterve.

The Common Foe and a false Servant joyn'd, Put straight in Act what well they had design'd; Whilst all beheld how Isgrim seiz'd the Lamb, And Hylax after, like a Tempest, came, The tender Prey was ready to regain, He seeming faints, nor could his Speed maintain; The Wolf his Prize to sheltring Coverts bore; The Dog is worth his Weight in Gold, they swore,

And without question had the Loss regain'd, Had he for Service better been maintain'd: Both Town and Country then of him took care, And each-where Treated, he grew Fat and Fair.

MORAL.

'Tis hard to Cark all Day, to Care and Moil, And find at Night our Labor for our Toil; When by some Trick in Trade, or new Trepan, Up from a Broker starts an Alderman.

[illustration] the starving wolf petitions the ennobled dog, now in human dress. In the background, wolves attack the dog to eat the meat hung in the pantry while a man threatens them with sticks.

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FAB. XLIV. 2. Of the same Dog and Wolf.

HIs Curship Hylax, now grown sleek and plump, Dog in a Doublet with a Velvet Jump, Rais'd by his Master's Lord's especial Grace, From Turn-spit, to the Major-Domo's Place, Had both the Kitchin, Pantry, Larder, all That were below-stairs ready at his call; Spaniels, nay Mastives, veil'd to him their Caps, And Foisting-hounds, though in their Ladies Laps; Who late some Scruples taking 'bove his Dose, A large Potation, and a short Repose, Walk'd forth this Morning, better to repair His queasie Stomach with refreshing Air:

Where under harder Planets Isgrim sate, Repining at inexorable Fate. Soon as the Wolf his old Acquaintance spy'd, Craving an Alms, thus he himself apply'd:

Take pitty, Sir; behold my sordid Coat, My clemm'd up Belly, and my rivell'd Throat; Since you that tender Bit on me bestow'd, I never tasted Flesh, nor drank warm Blood; Ah! with sweet Creature-comforts me supply, That once more I may eat before I die.

I wave all former Merits, neither hint Counsel, that since hath prov'd to you a Mint, That well your Back hath cloth'd, your Purse well Ah! let my Wants your soft Compassion find.

Dog Steward then reply'd, Isgrim, 'tis true, To rob my Master I conspir'd with you, And I so well did your first Lesson learn, I onely studied since my own Concern; By which I rais'd my self in little space Up from a Scullion, to the Caterer's Place:

A Basket in my Mouth, a Bill that bid The Butcher furnish me with Veal or Kid, Beef, Lamb, or Mutton, which I day by day Brought to the Cook, ne're asking what's to pay: But once as I went luggering home my Load, I saw two Mastiffs fighting in the Road; Straight to be Stickler, down my Charge I set, When the great Battel prov'd an arrant Cheat, And they to plundring of my Basket fell: I thought I might put in my Claim as well; So we together did divide the Spoil. My Lord saw this, and laughing all the while, Tickled with Mischief, and my ready Wit, Since me to make his Steward hath thought fit; And I'm no more a down-right Shepherd's Cur, But as you see; Your humble Servant, Sir, Confesseth that you rais'd me, nor shall scorn, As Courtiers use, to make a kind Return: I'll put you on a handsom Project shall Once more your Belly fill, fall what may fall.

Soon as grown dark, you to our Larder may Find by a new-made Breach, an eade way; There you may Wants supply, there highly Feast, Which I could wish you may as well digest.

This said, the joyful Wolf did thence depart; And home went Hylax, Treachery in his Heart.

MORAL.

Who get Advancement by Sinister ends, Prove seldom to thir Raisers Cordial Friends: The Debt too great to pay, some State-trick must, By Ruin or Disgrace, Accounts adjust.

FAB. XLV. 3. Of the same Dog and Wolf.

SOon as Sun-setting rais'd Nights Sable Flags, And Stars drest up, laid by their muffling Bags, Forth Isgrim did from dark Recesses steal, Venturing sweet Life against one plenteous Meal; Through Shades and Silence the old Robber drew, Where Breaches lay exros'd to open view: Low and neglected Out-works soon he mounts, The Wealthy Plunder all his own accounts.

Fierce, on cold Lamb and Mutton first he falls; Next, breaches makes in Ven'son Pasty Walls; Then up and down pickeering, tears and eats, Making a Massacre of broken Meats. Rich Wine in open Bottles last he marks, Whose windy Ferment had blown up their Corks, Th' uneven Floor turning to Pools and Isles; He French and Spanish Difference reconciles: Fear of Surprisal vanquished with Wine, He calls the Vault his Castle, cries, All's mine; Plots the false Steward (though his Friend) to kill, There fix his Throne, and Govern in that Cell: Tuning his Pipes, then he began to sing The Ballad of Lycaon, once a King;

How he with Humane Dishes Jove did Feast, Mans Flesh treated his Coelestial Guest; ••••rbage for Beasts, Beasts Men, Man Angels Food; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••hat best with them agreed, might please a God. ••••t he as him, and such choice Banquets storms, ••••d for his Kindness, to a Wolf transforms, ••••osing each Stanza with Phanatick Rage, ••ould Jove more than Gygantick Stirs engage, ••••on to his Seat restore again, ••••d injur'd Saints, Wolves turn'd to Men, should Raign. Such dire Notes Isgrim sung, while down he trowls, ••••ter his savory Morsels, cheering Bowls. Dog Steward, that well his Voice, though singing, knew, ••••om Ambuscade out with a Party drew, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lock'd Doors entring, they beset the Breach, ••rying the Wolf another Song they'l teach; Who seeing he must perish on the Spot, ••••z'd his false Friend, the Steward, by the Throat; ••hough all to loose him did what-e're they could, With deadly Wounds, the Wolf still kept his hold: So grapled, they in Death's Convulsion lay, ••nd dead, were thrown out on the King's High-way.

MORAL.

Feign'd Friends, who best may Villanies complot, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their Designs miscarry on the Spot: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dram this of the Deadly Bottle gets, ••hich for his dangerous Compeer he sets.

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.

FAB. XLVII. 2. Of the Fox and the Eagle.

MAdam Mount-Eagle forc'd to stoop thus low, As if some Dunghil Bird, or Carrion Crow, To Reynard's Wife on base Conditions yield, No Battel, yet she Mistress of the Field; Thus storming said, What will of me become? Abroad a Laughing-stock, and jeer'd at home! Drest in Lampoons 'mongst Common-Garden Birds! Fools Bolts will fly, and Asses biting Guirds; Me they'l Burlesque with such Rhyme-doggerel Pens, Make Griflons Robbins, Royal Eagles Wrens: Blood must more easie move this grating Hinge, No Salve for Reputation like Revenge.

To Merlin then, her trusty Page, she spake; From me to Reynard's Wife a Visit make, Say, I my self on her would willing wait, But I my Charge attend early and late; Hither if leisure grant her leave to walk, W•• better may of kind Concernments talk.

The Long-wing'd on his Message flies with speed, And told Dame Ermelin what his Lady bid;

Though full of Thoughts, invited thus, she came, And sate as other Madams, by Madam.

Then spake the Eagle, a Branch higher perch'd, A Female difference not at first well search'd, May seem to heal under a formal Skin, When the clos'd Orifice ulcerates within.

Then spake the Eagle, a Branch higher perch'd, A Female difference not at first well search'd, May seem to heal under a formal Skin, When the clos'd Orifice ulcerates within.

Therefore my Lord, and yours, now both from ho•••• I have aparted a convenient Room, Which, please you to accept, and Rent-free too, The Friendship to confirm 'twixt me and you; Since we live single, keep a slender Train, You Chamber'd in the Cedar may remain, Where we may visit one another oft: Unplyant Grudges Frequency makes soft.

Whom Profit blinds, perceive no reaching Drift: She streight accepts the cunning Eagle's Gift, Her self and all her little ones removes, From sure Foundations, to deceitful Groves.

When going early forth (her usual guise,) Markets to make, in manner of Reprise, Mount-Eagle skilful at Dame Ermelins Trade, A Tragick Scene in her short absence play'd, Enters new Lodgings, on her Children falls, Makes bloody Banquets with their Funerals, Serves the whole Brood to her expecting Young, And Feasted, down their Bones and Offals slung:

Then boasting said, I'm now reveng'd to th' height, Let Parrots prate, and idle Goose quills write.

MORAL.

In War to Conquer, be at Court preferr'd, Your Love-suit kindly by your Mistress heard, Shipwrack to scape, these much Contentment bring; But sweet Revenge of Joy's the onely King.

FAB. XLVIII. 3. Of the Fox and the Eagle.

MEan while Dame Ermelin following her Trade A Stubble Goose her own by Purchase made Claim putting in by Seizure, thwart her Back She threw her Booty like a Pedlar's Pack, Thence speeding home her little ones to Treat; Where soon as enter'd, down her Fardel set, Them by their Names she calls, Squire, Sly, and Shir••▪ To Breakfast, here's good Cheer, no picking Work: Missing her Cubs within, her Round she w••nt, But them nor heard, nor saw, nor found by scent:

Then thus she cries. Some cursed Cavalier Hath with his Blood-hounds ransacking been here, Who of my Children hath made Meat for Dogs, Or Captive led, condemn'd to Chains and Clogs. How like his Father, Squire, my eldest Cub, Would Preach in Pulpit, or Hold forth in Tub, From tender-consciene'd Geese removing Doubt, Would Orthodox and Refractory rout! How would my second with drawn Pizzle lie, Rook an old Rook, a Carrion Crow, or Pye! The third for Policy and Valor might, Ah! had he liv'd, been, like his Sire, a Knight.

This heard Mount-Eagle, and her Doubts to clear, Said, Moan no longer, your three Sons are here; And as she spake, down a pick'd Carcass slung, Thus her upbraiding with a bitter Tongue.

Another Firebrand, noysom scented Brache, If thou canst find one, from the Altar snatch: Christian Religion cuts off Heathen Rites, Now each-where shines the Gospel with New Lights; In stead of Hecatombs that Jove Carest, Stisling with Smoke the Mansions of the Blest, Onely a Comrite Heart they offer up, And their Libation a Communion Cup.

Then full of Grief and Rage, replies the Fox, Thou maist be met with, Kite, for all thy Mocks: This said, to former Dwellings she retreats, And there long mourning, neither drinks nor eats.

Soon after, in an unconverted Town, (Change of Religion by Degrees march'd down From populous Cities, introduc'd by Arms, To Pagan Bumkins, Villages, and Farms) At Bacchus Festivals a Goat they paid, The Vive-destrover on his Altar laid; And whilst with Rural Ditties they advanc'd, Mongst oyl'd Borrachios leap'd, and fell, and danc'd, Mount-Eagle stoops like Lightning from the Pole, And snatch'd a Morsel on a hissing Cole, Which bearing to her Nest, the Cinder catch'd, Her Palace smokes, with Reeds and Stubble thatch'd: No hope left now to quench the rising Flame, Shricking aloud, at last th' affrighted Dame,

E're sprinkling Sparks had sing'd her callow Young, She on the Ground, like ripe Fruit falling, flung; Which Ermelin spying, streight upon them falls, And slaughtering, thus unto their Mother calls.

Robber and Murtheress, thou that hast thy Tower Above the reach of Beasts, or Humane Power; Yet Divine Justice conquers all these Odds: Judgment, though late, comes certain from the Gods.

MORAL.

The fiercest Tyrants, though they Guarded are With all the Strength and Policy of War, That Fortune scorn, that Heaven and Hell dare fight, Oft lose themselves by one small Oversight.

[illustration] Men with sticks argue over a panther in a trap. In the background, on one hill shepherds kneel before a big cat and its army, and on another, a big cat kneels before shepherds.

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FAB. XLIX. Of the Panther and Rusticks.

A Foreign Panther faln into a Pit, Vain finding Strength, Activity, and Wit, Lay patient at the mercy of those Swains, Gather'd in Throngs from the Adjacent Plains, Admiring his rich Coat, and dappled Vest; To whom thus humbly made he his Request.

You harmless Shepherds, you who here reside, Free from Contention, Avarice, and Pride; You who enjoy long Lives and lasting Healths, From Changes free of Crowns and Commonwealths, Who old feel no decay, but Strength still keep, Dying in extreme Age, as faln asleep; You who so blest are, pity my sad Case, And free me from these Gyves and doleful Place.

The giddie Rout this said, divided are: The breach of Hospitality beware, Be kind to Strangers, these cry, since the Gods, Like Pilgrims, visit oft poor Swains Aboads.

Whilst others bawl, No Hospitable breach; Streight as our Prisoner him let us impeach, Take forfeit Life, divide his gaudy Spoils; We not for Friends pitch here intrapping Toils.

Discording Clamors clash, loud Shouts and Cries Of siding Parties battel in the Skies; To Animosity Contention grows, And soon the Storm had melted into Blows, But that a Father, who in former Stirs Had felt the Miseries of Civil Wars, To silence did the frantick Rout beseech, Then gravely makes this reconciling Speech.

You that are Friends and Brethren, ah! forbear; Raise not on slender grounds intestine War; But let a middle course all difference wave, Let us this Stranger neither kill nor save; Be what he will, thus faln into our Gin, Let him get out himself, as he got in: If he scape, so; if perish in our Toils, We guiltless are, and yet obtain his Spoils.

All pleas'd with this Perswasion, thence depart, Leaving the Panther with a heavy Heart.

MORAL.

Fly Golden Means, when the Extremes are good; Grant General Pardons, or else lavish Blood: Oft lukewarm Counsels, neither harsh, nor mild, The Subtlest to their Ruins have beguil'd.

FAB. L. 2. Of the Panther and Rusticks.

WHo from the bottom thus of deep Despair, And hard embraces of a cruel Snare, No less then Death expecting, down he lies In woful posture, closing his own Eyes; When through dark Shades a tender Virgin stole, And him enfranchis'd from that dismal Hole.

As one who had been rais'd up by a Spell, From Death, and Adamantine Gates of Hell, So joy'd he, viewing the Aetherial Sky, His kind and fair Deliverer standing by:

And thus he said; To thee who me hast sav'd, And for my Freedom thus thy self behav'd, Advent'ring forth in such a Night, so dark, When all Heavens Canopy not shews one Spark, What shall I say, or how return, since short Are all acknowledgements to thy Desert? Soft Operations of a tender Breast Are 'bove Rewards, and not to be exprest; Untainted Plains breed Innocence like you, Spotless their Cheeks, spotless their Bosoms too. But go with me to Court; who me redeem'd There shall take Place, be like my self esteem'd;

On you the King shall smile, and my dear Spouse Shall wait upon, though of the Lion's House; Be safe and happy there▪ for I, e're long, These Plains shall visit Forty thousand strong; On those would neither Evil do, nor Good, For luke-warm Counsel shall pay reeking Blood.

Then she reply'd, If so resolv'd you are, My Parents, Me, and my Relations spare; But if you love your Life, no longer stay, The East grows Purple with the rising Day; If early Rusticks find us lingring here, We both shall pay for our Neglect too dear.

This said, they part: To Arden he repairs, To move the Lion in these Grand Affairs; Nor fell he in his Expectation short, No sooner being arrived at the Court, His Cause being heard, the King Assistance grants, And whate're else supplies an Armies Wants: Which soon Array'd, he march'd to fertile Plains, With Fire and Sword chastizing surley Swains: Alarum'd thus, they in distracted Swarms, Not knowing how to fly, or take up Arms, Meet and conclude down at his Feet to fall, And not by vain Resistance venture All; The Maid that help'd their General from the Pit, As th' onely Mediator they thought fit.

The Embassy she willing undertook: Oft Conquerors are conquer'd by a Look: With her a Train of Rural Beauties march'd, Not by rough Winds impeach'd, nor Phoebus parch'd:

Faces who never Vizard-mask had on, Yet scorn'd all Weathers, and defi'd the Sun. Attended thus, up draws she to the Van, And thus to plead her Countries Cause began:

Here, Sir, you are, and Forty thousand strong, Us to destroy, that never did you wrong; You sell into a Pit, catch'd in a Hay, For hu••gry Courtiers made, and Beasts of Prey, By whom we suffer'd much, and do so still; Your Life we spar'd, though we such Vermin kill: But when Invasion calls, th' ambitious Prince On slight Foundations builds a fair Pretence. Take pity, Sir, your Arms not here employ, Let not the greedy Soldier all destroy: Though strangely barbarous many were to you, Yet, Sir, your Party more were than a few; What, must your Friends and Foes together fall? In one Calamity thus suffer all! Call you to mind those left you in the Pit, And such who had Compassion forget?

His Eye then fixing on th' imploring Maid, He knew her streight, and rising up, thus said;

Art thou here me releas'd in dead of Night, Broughtst me to live, and view Aethereal Light? That Life call thine, dear Virgin, thou didst save, Ask what thou wilt, thou needst but ask and have.

Then she: Since such your favours you not scant, A General Pardon and Oblivion grant, Let not tumultuous passions take their swinge, But feast on Mercy higher than Revenge.

Then he reply'd; Here falls my Wrath and Splee Them I indulge, and You proclaim their Queen; They shall for thee a Royal Seat erect, And pay due Homage too, with all respect; And when thou dost Espouse some Noble Swain, Thou in thy Pallace, and not he shall Raign.

Then march'd the Panther off in fair array, When he had Crown'd her Lady of the May.

MORAL.

Foul Hags may raise a War, the horrid Work Begun with Stools and Cushions in the Kirk: But never Conjure down, when Beauties charms Makes angry Mars lay down late took up Arms.