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Or does her harvest store the place,
A treafure for her younger race?
And would the thus my fearch prevent?
I ftand refolv'd, and dare th' event.

Thus faid, he mounts the margin's round,
And pries into the depth profound.
He ftretch'd his neck; and from below
With ftretching neck advanc'd a foe:
With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears,
The foe with ruffled plumes appears:
Threat anfwer'd threat; his fury grew;
Headlong to meet the war he flew;
But when the watry death he found,
He thus lamented as he drown'd:

I ne'er had been in this condition,
But for my mother's prohibition.

§ 143. Fable XXI. The Rat-Catcher and Cats. THE rats by night fuch mischief did,

Betty was ev'ry morning chid:

They undermin'd whole fides of bacon;
Her cheese was fapp'd, her tarts were taken ;
Her paftics, fenc'd with thickest paste,
Were all demolish'd and laid wafte.
She curs'd the Cat for want of duty,
Who left her foes a conftant booty.
An Engineer of noted skill
Engag'd to ftop the growing ill.

From room to room he now furveys

Their haunts, their works, their fecret ways;
Finds where they 'fcape an ambuscade,
And whence the nightly fally's made.

An envious Cat from place to place,
Unfeen, attends his filent pace.
She faw that if his trade went on,
The purring race muft be undone;
So fecretly removes his baits,
And ev'ry stratagem defeats.

Again he fets the poifon'd toils,
And Pufs again the labour foils.

"What foc (to fruftrate my defigns) "My fchemes thus nightly counterminos?" Incens'd, he cries: "this very hour "The wretch fhall bleed beneath my pow'r."

So faid-a pond'rous trap he brought, And in the fact poor Pufs was caught.

66

Smuggler," fays he, "thou fhalt be made "A victim to our lofs of trade."

The captive Cat, with piteous mews,
For pardon, life, and freedom fues.
A fifter of the fcience (pare;
One int'reft is our common care.

"What infolence!" the man replied; "Shall Cats with us the game divide? "Were all your interloping band

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Extinguish'd, or expeil'd the land,
"We Kat-catchers might raise our fees,
"Sole guardians of a nation's cheese !"
A Cat, who faw the lifted knife,
Thus fpoke, and fav'd her fifter's life:

In ev'ry age and clime, we fee
Two of a trade can ne'er agree.
Each hates his neighbour for encroaching;
Squire fignatifes fquir: for poaching;

'Beauties with beauties are in arms,
And fcandal pelts each other's charms;
Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone,
In hope to make the world their own.
But let us limit our defires;
'Not war like beauties, kings, and 'fquires;
'For tho' we both one prey pursue,
'There's game enough for us and you.'

§ 144. Fable XXII. The Goat without a Beard.
'TIS
IS certain that the modifh paffions

Defcend among the crowd, like fashions.
Excufe me then, if pride, conceit

(The manners of the fair and great),

I give to monkeys, asses, hogs,
Fleas, owls, goats, butterflies, and dogs.
I never faid they equal men.
I fay that thefe are proud: what then?

A Goat (as vain as Goat can be)
Affected fingularity.

Whene'er a thymy bank he found,
He roll'd upon the fragrant ground;
And then with fond attention stood,
Pix'd o'er his image in the flood.

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"I hate my frowzy beard," he cries;
My youth is loft in this difguife.

"Did not the females know my vigour,
"Well might they loath this rev'rend figure."
Refolv'd to fmooth his fhaggy face,

He fought the barber of the place.
A flippant monkey, fpruce and finart,
Hard by profefs 'd the dapper art;
His pole with pewter bafons hung;
Black rotten teeth in order ftrung;
Rang'd cups that in the window stood,
Lin'd with red rags, to look like blood,
Did well his threefold trade explain;
Who fhav'd, drew teeth, and breath'd a vein,
The Goat he welcomes with an air,

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And feats him in his wooden chair:
Mouth, nofe, and cheek, the lather hides;
Light, smooth, and fwift, the razor glides,
I hope your cuftom, Sir,' favs pug;
Sure never face was half fo fmug.'
The Goat, impatient for applause,
Swift to the neighb'ring hill withdraws;
The fhaggy people grinn'd and star'd :

Heighday! what's here, without a beard?
Say, brother, whence the dire difgrace?
'What envious hand hath robb'd your face ?1
When thus the fop, with imiles of fcorn:
"Are beards by civil nations worn?
E'en Mufcovites have mow'd their chins,
Shall we, like formal Capuchins,
Stubborn in pride, retain the mode,
And bear about the hairy load?
Whene'er we through the village ftray,
Are we not mock'd along the way,
Infulted with loud fhouts of fcoin,
By boys our beards difgrac'd and torn?"
Were
ere you no more with Goats to dwell,
Brother, I grant you reafon well,'
Replies a bearded chief. Befide,
If boys can mortify thy pride,

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How

How wilt thou ftand the ridicule
Of our whole flock? Affected fool!
Coxcombs diftinguish'd from the rest,
To all but coxcombs are a jeft.'

145. Fable XXIII. The OldWoman and her Cats.
WHO friendship with a knave hath made,
Is judg'd a partner in the trade.
The matron who conducts abroad
A willing nymph, is thought a bawd;
And if a modeft girl is scen
With one who cures a lover's fpleen,
We guess her not extremely nice,
And only with to know her price.
'Tis thus that on the choice of friends
Our good or evil name depends.

A wrinkled Hag, of wicked fame,
Befide a little fmoky flame

Sat hov'ring, pinch'd with age and frost:
Her thrivell 'd hands, with veins embofs'd,
Upon her knees her weight fuftains,
While palfy thook her crazy brains:
She mumbles forth her backward pray'rs,
An untam'd fcold of fourfcore years.
About her fwarm'd a num'rous brood
Of Cats, who lank with hunger mew'd.
Teaz'd with their cries, her choler grew;
And thus fhe fputter'd: Hence, ye crew!
Fool that I was, to entertain

Such imps, fuch fiends, a hellish train!
Had ye been never hous'd and nurs'd,
I for a witch had ne'er been curs'd.
To you I owe that crowds of boys
Worry me with eternal noife;
Straws laid acrofs my pace retard;

His now-forgotten friend, a Snail,
Beneath his houfe, with flimy trail,
Crawls o'er the grafs; whom when he fpies,
In wrath he to the gard'ner cries:

"What means yon peafant's daily toil,
From choking weeds to rid the foil?
Why wake you to the morning's care?
Why with new arts correct the year?
Why glows the peach with crimson hue?
And why the plum's inviting blue?
Were they to feaft his tafte defign'd,
That vermin of voracious kind?
Crush then the flow, the pilf ring race;
So purge thy garden from difgrace."

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What arrogance!' the Snail replied;
How infolent is upftart pride!

'd;

Hadft thou not thus, with infult vain,
Provok'd my patience to complain,
I had conceal'd thy meaner birth,
Nor trac'd thee to the fcum of earth.
For fcarce nine funs have wak'd the hours,
To fwell the fruit and paint the flow'rs,
Since I thy humbler life furvey'd,
In bafe and fordid guise array'
A hideous infect, vile, unclean,
You dragg'd a flow and noifome train;
And from your fpider-bowels drew
Foul film, and fpun the dirty clue.
I own my humble life, good friend;
Snail was I born, and Snail fhall end.
And what's a Butterfly? At best
He's but a caterpillar dreft;
And all thy race (a num'rous feed)
Shall prove of caterpillar breed.'

§ 147. Fable XXV. The Scold and the Parrot.

The horse-fhoe's nail'd (each threshold's guard); THE hufband thus reprov'd his wife:

The stunted broom the wenches hide,
For fear that I should up and ride;
They ftick with pins my bleeding feat,
And bid me fhew my fecret teat.'

"To hear you prate would vex a faint:
Who hath most reafon of complaint?"
Replies a Cat. "Let's come to proof:
Had we ne'er starv'd beneath your roof,
We had, like others of our race,
In credit liv'd, as beafts of chace.
'Tis infamy to ferve a hag;

Cats are thought imps, her broom a nag;
And boys againft our lives combine,
Becaufe 'tis faid your cats have nine."

$146. Fable XXIV, The Butterfly and Snail.

ALL upftarts infolent in place

Remind us of their vulgar race.
As, in the funshine of the morn,
A Butterfly but newly born
Sat proudly perking on a rofe,
With pert conceit his bofom glows;
His wings, all glorious to behold,
Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold,
Wide he difplays; the fpangled dew
Refefis his eyes, and various hue.

"Who deals in flander lives in ftrife.
Art thou the herald of disgrace,
Denouncing war to all thy race?
Can nothing quell thy thunder's rage,
Which fpares no friend, nor fex, nor age?
That vixen tongue of yours, my dear,
Alarms our neighbours far and near.
Good Gods! 'tis like a rolling river,
That murm'ring flows, and flows for ever!
Ne'er tir'd, perpetual difcord fowing!
Like fame, it gathers ftrength by going."

Heighday the flippant tongue replies,
How folemn is the fool, how wife!
Is nature's choiceft gift debarr'd?
Nay, frown not, for I will be heard.
Women of late are finely ridden;
A Parrot's privilege forbidden!
You praife his talk, his fqualling fong;
But wives are always in the wrong.'

Now reputations flew in pieces,
Of mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces:
She ran the Parrot's language o'er,
Bawd, huffy, drunkard, flattern, whore;
On all the fex fhe vents her fury;
Tries and condemns without a jury.
At once the torrent of her words
Alarm'd cat, monkey, dogs, and birds;

Al

All join their forces to confound her;
Pufs fpits, the monkey chatters round her;
The yelping cur her heels affaults;
The magpye blabs out all her faults;
Poll, in the uproar, from his cage,
With this rebuke out-fcream'd her rage:
"A Parrot is for talking priz'd,
But prattling women are defpis'd.
She who attacks another's honour
Draws ev'ry living thing upon her.
Think, Madam, when you ftretch your lungs,
That all your neighbours too have tongues.
One flander mufi ten thoufand get;
The world with int'reft pays the debt.”

148. Fable XXVI. The Cur and the Maftiff. SNEAKING Cur, the master's spy, Rewarded for his daily lye,

A

With fecret jealoufics and fears
Set all together by the ears.
Poor Pufs to-day was in difgrace,
Another cat fupplied her place;

The Hound was beat, the Maftiff chid;
The Monkey was the room forbid :
Each to his dearest friend grew fhy,
And none could tell the reason why.

A plan to rob the houfe was laid:
The thief with love feduc'd the maid;
Cajol'd the Cur, and ftrok'd his head,
And bought his fecrecy with bread.
He next the Maftiff's honour tried;
Whofe honeft jaws the bribe defied.
He ftretch'd his hand to proffer more;
The furly dog his fingers tore.

Swift ran the Cur; with indignation
The mafter took his information.
Hang him, the villain's curft, he cries;
And round his neck the halter ties.

The Dog his humble fuit preferr'd,
And begg'd in justice to be heard.
The mafter fat. On either hand
The cited Dogs confronting stand.
The Cur the bloody tale relates,
And, like a lawyer, aggravates.
Judge not unheard, the Maftiff cried,
But weigh the caufe of either fide.
Think not that treach'ry can be juft;
Take not informers words on truft.
They ope their hand to ev'ry pay,
And you and me by turns betray.

He fpoke; and all the truth appear'd:
The Cur was hang'd, the Maftiff clear'd.

§ 149. Fable XXVII. The Sick Man and the Angel.
IS
there no hope the Sick Man faid;

The filent doctor fhook his head,
And took his leave with figns of forrow,
Defpairing of his fee to-morrow.

When thus the Man, with gasping breath:
I feel the chilling wound of death,
Since I muft bid the world adieu,
Let me my former life review.

I grant, my bargains well were made,
But all men over-reach in tradę ;

'Tis felf-defence in each profeffion :
Sure felf-defence is no tranfgreffion.
The little portion in my hands,
By good fecurity on lands,
Is well increas'd. If, unawares,
My juftice to myself and heirs
Hath let my debtor rot in jail,
For want of good fufficient bail;
If I by writ, or bond, or deed,
Reduc'd a family to need,

My will hath made the world amends;
My hope on charity depends.
When I am number'd with the dead,
And all my pious gifts are read,

By heaven and earth 'twill then be known,
My charities were amply fhewn.

An Angel came. Ah friend! he cried,
No more in flatt'ring hope confide.
Can thy good deeds in former times
Outweigh the balance of thy crimes?
What widow or what orphan prays
To crown thy life with length of days?
A pious action's in thy pow'r,
Embrace with joy the happy hour.
Now, while you draw the vital air,
Prove your intention is fincere.
This inftant give a hundred pound;
Your neighbours want, and you abound.

But why fuch hafte? the Sick Man whines;
Who knows as yet what Heaven designs è
Perhaps I may recover ftill;
That fum and more are in my will.

Fool! fays the Vifion, now 'tis plain,
Your life, your foul, your heaven was gain.
From ev'ry fide, with all your might,
You fcrap'd, and scrap'd beyond your right;
And after death would fain atone,

By giving what is not your own.

While there is life there's hope, he cried; Then why fuch haste? So groan'd and died.

§ 150. Fable XXVIII. The Perfian, the Sun. and the Cloud.

there a bard whom genius fires,
Whofe ev'ry thought the God infpires!
When Envy reads the nervous lines,
She frets, the rails, the raves, the pines,
Her hiffing fnakes with venom fwell,
She calls her venal train from hell:
The fervile fiends her nod obey,
And all Curl's authors are in pay.
Fame calls up calumny and fpite;
Thus fhadow owes its birth to light.

As proftrate to the God of day,
With heart devout, a Perfian lay,
His invocation thus begun :

Parent of light, all-fceing Sun!
Prolific beam, whofe rays difpenfe
The various gifts of Providence!
Accept our praife, our daily pray 'r,
Smile on our fields, and bless the year!

A Cloud, who mock'd his grateful tongue,

The day with fudden darkness hung;

With pride and envy fwell'd aloud,

A voice thus thunder'd from the Cloud:
Weak is this gaudy God of thine,
Whom I at will forbid to shine.
Shall I nor vows nor incense know?
Where praife is due, the praise bestow.
With fervent zeal the Perfian mov'd,
Thus the proud calumny reprov'd:
It was that God, who claims my pray❜r,
Who gave thee birth, and rais'd thee there;
When o'er his beams the veil is thrown,
Thy fubftance is but plainer shown.
A paffing gale, a puff of wind,
De's thy thickeft troops combin'd.
The gale arofe; the vapour, toft
(The fport of winds) in air, was loft.
The glorious orb the day refines;
Thus envy breaks, thus merit fhines.

Whatever hen-rooft is decreas'd,
We fhall be thought to fhare the feast.
The change fhall never be believ'd;
A loft good name is ne'er retriev'd.
Nay, then, replies the feeble Fox,
(But, hark! I hear a hen that clocks)
Go, but be moderate in your food;
A chicken too might do me good.

§ 152. Fable XXX. The Setting Dog and the Partridge.

THE ranging Dog the stubble tries,

And fearches ev'ry breeze that flies;
The fcent grows warm; with cautious fear
He creeps, and points the covey near;
The men, in filence, far behind,
Confcious of game, the net unbind.
A Partridge, with experience wife,
The fraudful preparation spies:

$151. Fable XXIX. The Fox at the point of She mocks their toils, alarms her brood;

Death.

AFOX in life's extreme decay,

Weak, fick, and faint, expiring lay;
All appetite had left his maw,
And age difarm'd his mumbling jaw.
His num'rous race around him stand,
To learn their dying fire's command:
He rais'd his head with whining moan,
And thus was heard the feeble tone :
Ah, fons! from evil ways depart;
My crimes lie heavy on my heart.
See, fee, the murder'd geefe appear!
Why are thofe bleeding turkeys there?
Why all around this cackling train,
Who haunt my ears for chickens flain ›
The hungry Foxes round them ftar'd,
And for the promis'd feaft prepar'd.

Where, Sir, is all this dainty cheer?
Nor turkey, goofe, nor hen is here.
Thefe are the phantoms of your orain,
And your fons lick their lips in vain.

O gluttons! fays the drooping fire,
Reftrain inordinate defire.

Your liquorifh tafte you fhall deplore,
When of confcience is no more,
peace
Does not the hound betray our pace,
And gins and guns deftroy our race?

Thieves dread the fearching eye of pow'r,
And never feel the quiet hour.

Old

age (which few of us fhall know)

Now puts a period to my woe.
Would you true happiness attain,
Let honefty your paffions rein;
So live in credit and efteem,
And the good name you loft, redeem.
The counfel's good, a Fox replies,
Could we perform what you advife.
Think what our ancestors have done;
A line of thieves from fon to fon :
To us defcends the long difgrace;
And infamy hath mark'd our race.
Though we, like harmless fheep, fhould feed,
Hereft in thought, in word, and deed;

The covey fprings, and feeks the wood;
But ere her certain wing she tries,
Thus to the creeping Spaniel cries:

Thou fawning flave to man's deceit,
Thou pimp of lux'ry, fneaking cheat,
Of thy whole fpecies thou difgrace;
Dogs fhall difown thee of their race!
For if I judge their native parts,
They're born with open honeft hearts;
And ere they ferv'd man's wicked ends,
Were gen'rous foes, or real friends.

When thus the Dog, with fcornful fmile: Secure of wing, thou dar'ft revilc. Clowns are to polifh'd manners blind; How ign'rant is the ruftic mind! My worth fagacious courtiers fee, And to preferment rife, like me. The thriving pimp, who beauty fets, Hath oft enhanc'd a nation's debts: Friend fets his friend, without regard; And minifters his fkill reward: Thus train'd by man, I learnt his ways, And growing favour feafts my days.

I might have guefs'd, the Partridge faid, The place where you were train'd and fed, Servants are apt, and in a trice

Ape to a hair their mafter's vice.

You came from court, you fay? adieu!
She faid, and to the covey flew.

§ 153. Fable XXXI. The Univerjal Apparition. RAKE, by ev'ry paffion rul'd,

A
With ev'ry vice his youth had cool'd;
Difeafe his tainted blood affaris;
His fpirits droop, his vigour fails:
With fecret ills at home he pines,
And, like infirm old age, declines.

As twing'd with pain he penfive fits;
And raves, and prays, and fwears by fits;
A ghaftly phantom, lean and wan,
Before him rofe, and thus began:

My name, perhaps, hath reach'd your car; Attend, and be advis'd by Care.

Nor

Nor love, nor honour, wealth, nor pow'r,
Can give the heart a cheerful hour
When health is loft. Be timely wife:
With health all tafte of pleasure flies.

Thus faid, the phantom difappears;
The wary counsel wak'd his fears;
He now from all excefs abftains;
With phyfic purifies his veins;
And, to procure a sober life,
Refolves to venture on a wife.

But now again the Sprite afcends;
Where'er he walks his ear attends :
Infinuates that beauty's frail;
That perfeverance must prevail;
With jealoufies his brain inflames,
And whispers all her lovers names.
In other hours the reprefents
His houfehold charge, his annual rents,
Increasing debts, perplexing duns,
And nothing for his younger fons.

Straight all his thought to gain he turns,
And with the thirft of lucre burns.
But, when poffeft of fortune's ftore,
The Spectre haunts him more and more:
Sets want and mifery in view,
Bold thieves, and all the murd'ring crew;
Alarms him with eternal frights,
Infefts his dream, or wakes his nights.
How fhall he chafe this hideous gueft?
Pow'r may perhaps protect his reft.
To pow'r he rofe: again the Sprite
Befets him morning, noon, and night;
Talks of Ambition's tott'ring feat,
How Envy perfecutes the great;
Of rival hate, of treach'rous friends,
And what difgrace his fall attends.

The court he quits, to fly from Care,
And fecks the peace of rural air:
His groves, his fields, amus'd his hours;
He prun'd his trees, he rais'd his flow`rs.
But Care again his fteps purfues;
Warns him of blafts, of blighting dews,
Of plund'ring infects, fnails, and rains,
And droughts that starv'd the labour'd plains.
Abroad, at home, the Spectre's there :
In vain we feck to fly from Care.
At length he thus the Ghoft addrefs'd:
Since thou must be my conftant guest,
Be kind, and follow me no more;
For Care by right should go before.

On merit title was conferr'd,
And all ador'd th' Athenian bird.

Brother, you reafon well, replies
The folemn mate, with half-fhut eyes;
Right-Athens was the feat of learning;
And truly wifdom is discerning.
Befides, on Pallas' helm we fit,
The type and ornament of wit;
But now, alas! we're quite neglected;
And a pert Sparrow's more refpected!

A Sparrow, who was lodg'd befide,
O'erhears them footh each other's pride,
And thus he nimbly vents his heat:

Who meets a fool muft find conceit.
I grant, you were at Athens grac'd,
And on Minerva's helm were plac'd:
But ev'ry bird that wings the sky,
Except an Owl, can tell you why.
From hence they taught their fchools to know
How falfe we judge by outward show;
That we fhould never looks efteem,
Since fools as wife as you might feem.
Would ye contempt and fcorn avoid,
Let your vain glory be deftroy'd:
Humble your arrogance of thought;
Purfue the ways by Nature taught:
So fhall you find delicious fare,
And grateful farmers praise your care ;
So fhall fleek mice your chace reward,
And no keen cat find more regard.

§ 155. Fable XXXIII. The Courtier and Proteus.
WHENE'ER a courtier's out of place,
The country shelters his difgrace;
Where, doom'd to exercife and health,
His house and gardens own his wealth,
He builds new fchemes, in hope to gain
The plunder of another reign:
Like Philip's fon, would fain be doing,
And fighs for other realms to ruin.

As one of thefe (without his wand)
Penfive, along the winding ftrand
Employ'd the folitary hour,
In projects to regain his pow'r;
The waves in fpreading circles ran,
Proteus arofe, and thus began :

Came you from court? for in your mien
A felf-important air is feen.

He frankly own'd his friends had trick'd him And how he fell his party's victim.

Know, fays the God, by matchlefs skill, I change to ev'ry fhape at will;

§ 154. Fable XXXII. The Two Owls and the But yet I'm told, at court you see

TW

Sparrow.

WO formal Owls together fat,
Conferring thus in folemn chat:

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Thofe who prefume to rival me.

Thus faid-a fnake, with hideous trail,
Proteus extends his fcaly mail.

Know, fays the man, though proud in place,
All courtiers are of reptile race.

Like you, they take that dreadful form,
Bafk in the fun, and fly the ftorm;
With malice hifs, with envy glote,
And for convenience change their coat;
With new-got luftre rear their head,
Though on a dunghill born and bred.

Sudden

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