FABLE XXXVII.
THE FARMER'S WIFE AND THE RAVEN.
'Why are those tears? why droops your head?
Is then your other husband dead?
Or does a worse disgrace betide?
Hath no one since his death applied?'
'Alas! you know the cause too well:
The salt is spilt, to me it fell.
Then, to contribute to my loss,
My knife and fork were laid across;
On Friday too! the day I dread!
Would I were safe at home in bed!
_10
Last night (I vow to heaven 'tis true)
Bounce from the fire a coffin flew.
Next post some fatal news shall tell,
God send my Cornish friends be well!'
'Unhappy widow, cease thy tears,
Nor feel affliction in thy fears,
Let not thy stomach be suspended;
Eat now, and weep when dinner's ended;
And when the butler clears the table,
For thy desert, I'll read my fable.'
_20
Betwixt her swagging panniers' load
A farmer's wife to market rode,
And, jogging on, with thoughtful care
Summed up the profits of her ware;
When, starting from her silver dream,
Thus far and wide was heard her scream:
'That raven on yon left-hand oak
(Curse on his ill-betiding croak)
Bodes me no good.' No more she said,
When poor blind Ball, with stumbling tread,
_30
Fell prone; o'erturned the pannier lay,
And her mashed eggs bestrewed the way.
She, sprawling in the yellow road,
Railed, swore and cursed: 'Thou croaking toad,
A murrain take thy whoreson throat!
I knew misfortune in the note.'
'Dame,' quoth the raven, 'spare your oaths,
Unclench your fist, and wipe your clothes.
But why on me those curses thrown?
Goody, the fault was all your own;
_40
For had you laid this brittle ware,
On Dun, the old sure-footed mare,
Though all the ravens of the hundred,
With croaking had your tongue out-thundered,
Sure-footed Dun had kept his legs,
And you, good woman, saved your eggs.'
FABLE XXXVIII.
THE TURKEY AND THE ANT.
In other men we faults can spy,
And blame the mote that dims their eye,
Each little speck and blemish find,
To our own stronger errors blind.
A turkey, tired of common food,
Forsook the barn, and sought the wood;
Behind her ran her infant train,
Collecting here and there a grain.
'Draw near, my birds,' the mother cries,
'This hill delicious fare supplies;
_10
Behold, the busy negro race,
See, millions blacken all the place!
Fear not. Like me with freedom eat;
An ant is most delightful meat.
How bless'd, how envied were our life,
Could we but 'scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, cursed man, on turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savoury chine.
_20
From the low peasant to the lord,
The turkey smokes on every board.
Sure men for gluttony are cursed,
Of the seven deadly sins the worst.'
An ant, who climbed beyond his reach,
Thus answered from the neighbouring beech:
'Ere you remark another's sin, 27
Bid thy own conscience look within;
Control thy more voracious bill,
Nor for a breakfast nations kill.'
_30
* * * * *
FABLE XXXIX.
THE FATHER AND JUPITER.
The man to Jove his suit preferred;
He begged a wife. His prayer was heard,
Jove wondered at his bold addressing:
For how precarious is the blessing!
A wife he takes. And now for heirs
Again he worries heaven with prayers.
Jove nods assent. Two hopeful boys
And a fine girl reward his joys.
Now, more solicitous he grew,
And set their future lives in view;
_10
He saw that all respect and duty
Were paid to wealth, to power, and beauty.
'Once more,' he cries, 'accept my prayer;
Make my loved progeny thy care.
Let my first hope, my favourite boy,
All fortune's richest gifts enjoy.
My next with strong ambition fire:
May favour teach him to aspire;
Till he the step of power ascend,
And courtiers to their idol bend.
_20
With every grace, with every charm,
My daughter's perfect features arm.
If heaven approve, a father's bless'd.'
Jove smiles, and grants his full request.
The first, a miser at the heart,
Studious of every griping art,
Heaps hoards on hoards with anxious pain;
And all his life devotes to gain.
He feels no joy, his cares increase,
He neither wakes nor sleeps in peace;
_30
In fancied want (a wretch complete)
He starves, and yet he dares not eat.
The next to sudden honours grew:
The thriving art of Courts he knew:
He reached the height of power and place;
Then fell, the victim of disgrace.
Beauty with early bloom supplies
His daughter's cheek, and points her eyes.
The vain coquette each suit disdains,
And glories in her lover's pains.
_40
With age she fades, each lover flies;
Contemned, forlorn, she pines and dies.
When Jove the father's grief surveyed,
And heard him Heaven and Fate upbraid,
Thus spoke the god: 'By outward show,
Men judge of happiness and woe:
Shall ignorance of good and ill
Dare to direct the eternal will?
Seek virtue; and, of that possess'd,
To Providence resign the rest'
_50
* * * * *
FABLE XL.
THE TWO MONKEYS.
The learned, full of inward pride,
The Fops of outward show deride:
The Fop, with learning at defiance,
Scoffs at the pedant, and the science:
The Don, a formal, solemn strutter,
Despises Monsieur's airs and flutter;
While Monsieur mocks the formal fool,
Who looks, and speaks, and walks by rule.
Britain, a medley of the twain,
As pert as France, as grave as Spain;
_10
In fancy wiser than the rest,
Laughs at them both, of both the jest.
Is not the poet's chiming close
Censured by all the sons of prose?
While bards of quick imagination
Despise the sleepy prose narration.
Men laugh at apes, they men contemn;
For what are we, but apes to them?
Two monkeys went to Southwark fair,
No critics had a sourer air:
_20
They forced their way through draggled folks,
Who gaped to catch jack-pudding's jokes;
Then took their tickets for the show,
And got by chance the foremost row.
To see their grave, observing face,
Provoked a laugh throughout the place.
'Brother,' says Pug, and turned his head,
'The rabble's monstrously ill bred.'
Now through the booth loud hisses ran;
Nor ended till the show began.
_30
The tumbler whirls the flap-flap round,
With somersets he shakes the ground;
The cord beneath the dancer springs;
Aloft in air the vaulter swings;
Distorted now, now prone depends,
Now through his twisted arms ascends:
The crowd, in wonder and delight,
With clapping hands applaud the sight.
With smiles, quoth Pug, 'If pranks like these
The giant apes of reason please,
_40
How would they wonder at our arts!
They must adore us for our parts.
High on the twig I've seen you cling;
Play, twist and turn in airy ring:
How can those clumsy things, like me,
Fly with a bound from tree to tree?
But yet, by this applause, we find
These emulators of our kind
Discern our worth, our parts regard,
Who our mean mimics thus reward.'
_50
'Brother,' the grinning mate replies,
'In this I grant that man is wise.
While good example they pursue,
We must allow some praise is due;
But when they strain beyond their guide,
I laugh to scorn the mimic pride,
For how fantastic is the sight,
To meet men always bolt upright,
Because we sometimes walk on two!
I hate the imitating crew.'
_60
* * * * *
FABLE XLI.
THE OWL AND THE FARMER.
An owl of grave deport and mien,
Who (like the Turk) was seldom seen,
Within a barn had chose his station,
As fit for prey and contemplation.
Upon a beam aloft he sits,
And nods, and seems to think by fits.
So have I seen a man of news,
Or Post-boy, or Gazette peruse;
Smoke, nod, and talk with voice profound,
And fix the fate of Europe round.
_10
Sheaves piled on sheaves, hid all the floor;
At dawn of morn, to view his store
The farmer came. The hooting guest
His self-importance thus express'd:
'Reason in man is mere pretence:
How weak, how shallow is his sense!
To treat with scorn the bird of night,
Declares his folly, or his spite.
Then too, how partial is his praise!
The lark's, the linnet's chirping lays
_20
To his ill-judging ears are fine;
And nightingales are all divine.
But the more knowing feathered race
See wisdom stamped upon my face.
Whene'er to visit light I deign,
What flocks of fowl compose my train!
Like slaves they crowd my flight behind,
And own me of superior kind.'
The farmer laughed, and thus replied:
'Thou dull important lump of pride,
_30
Dar'st thou with that harsh grating tongue,
Depreciate birds of warbling song?
Indulge thy spleen. Know, men and fowl
Regard thee, as thou art an owl.
Besides, proud blockhead, be not vain,
Of what thou call'st thy slaves and train.
Few follow wisdom or her rules;
Fools in derision follow fools.'
* * * * *
FABLE XLII.
THE JUGGLERS.
A juggler long through all the town
Had raised his fortune and renown;
You'd think (so far his art transcends)
The devil at his fingers' ends.
Vice heard his fame, she read his bill;
Convinced of his inferior skill,
She sought his booth, and from the crowd
Defied the man of art aloud:
'Is this, then, he so famed for sleight?
Can this slow bungler cheat your sight!
_10
Dares he with me dispute the prize?
I leave it to impartial eyes.'
Provoked, the juggler cried, ''tis done.
In science I submit to none.'
Thus said, the cups and balls he played;
By turns, this here, that there, conveyed.
The cards, obedient to his words,
Are by a fillip turned to birds.
His little boxes change the grain:
Trick after trick deludes the train.
_20
He shakes his bag, he shows all fair;
His fingers spreads, and nothing there;
Then bids it rain with showers of gold,
And now his ivory eggs are told.
But when from thence the hen he draws,
Amazed spectators hum applause.
Vice now stept forth, and took the place
With all the forms of his grimace.
'This magic looking-glass,' she cries,
(There, hand it round) 'will charm your eyes.'
_30
Each eager eye the sight desired,
And every man himself admired.
Next to a senator addressing:
'See this bank-note; observe the blessing,
Breathe on the bill.' Heigh, pass! 'Tis gone.
Upon his lips a padlock shone.
A second puff the magic broke,
The padlock vanished, and he spoke.
Twelve bottles ranged upon the board,
All full, with heady liquor stored,
_40
By clean conveyance disappear,
And now two bloody swords are there.
A purse she to a thief exposed,
At once his ready fingers closed;
He opes his fist, the treasure's fled;
He sees a halter in its stead.
She bids ambition hold a wand;
He grasps a hatchet in his hand.
A box of charity she shows,
'Blow here;' and a churchwarden blows,
_50
'Tis vanished with conveyance neat,
And on the table smokes a treat.
She shakes the dice, the boards she knocks,
And from all pockets fills her box.
She next a meagre rake address'd:
'This picture see; her shape, her breast!
What youth, and what inviting eyes!
Hold her, and have her.' With surprise,
His hand exposed a box of pills,
And a loud laugh proclaimed his ills.
_60
A counter, in a miser's hand,
Grew twenty guineas at command.
She bids his heir the sum retain,
And 'tis a counter now again.
A guinea with her touch you see
Take every shape, but charity;
And not one thing you saw, or drew,
But changed from what was first in view.
The juggler now in grief of heart,
With this submission owned her art:
_70
'Can I such matchless sleight withstand?
How practice hath improved your hand!
But now and then I cheat the throng;
You every day, and all day long.'
* * * * *
FABLE XLIII.
THE COUNCIL OF HORSES.
Upon a time a neighing steed,
Who grazed among a numerous breed,
With mutiny had fired the train,
And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concerned the state
The council met in grand debate.
A colt, whose eye-balls flamed with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stept forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng addressed:
_10
'Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemned to slavery and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain,
Because our sires have borne the chain?
Consider, friends, your strength and might;
'Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we designed for daily toil,
To drag the ploughshare through, the soil,
_20
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier's load?
How feeble are the two-legged kind!
What force is in our nerves combined!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens! Reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy disdain.
_30
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famished growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.'
A general nod approved the cause,
And all the circle neighed applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanced before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
_40
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain:
'When I had health and strength, like you,
The toils of servitude I knew;
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year's increase
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains.
_50
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain;
We share the toil, and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
_60
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heaven assigned.'
The tumult ceased. The colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.
* * * * *
FABLE XLIV.
THE HOUND AND THE HUNTSMAN.
Impertinence at first is borne
With heedless slight, or smiles of scorn;
Teased into wrath, what patience bears
The noisy fool who perseveres?
The morning wakes, the huntsman sounds,
At once rush forth the joyful hounds.
They seek the wood with eager pace,
Through bush, through brier, explore the chase.
Now scattered wide, they try the plain,
And snuff the dewy turf in vain.
_10
What care, what industry, what pains!
What universal silence reigns.
Ringwood, a dog of little fame,
Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
At once displays his babbling throat;
The pack, regardless of the note,
Pursue the scent; with louder strain
He still persists to vex the train.
The huntsman to the clamour flies;
The smacking lash he smartly plies.
_20
His ribs all welked, with howling tone
The puppy thus expressed his moan:
'I know the music of my tongue
Long since the pack with envy stung.
What will not spite? These bitter smarts
I owe to my superior parts.'
'When puppies prate,' the huntsman cried,
'They show both ignorance and pride:
Fools may our scorn, not envy raise,
For envy is a kind of praise.
_30
Had not thy forward noisy tongue
Proclaimed thee always in the wrong,
Thou might'st have mingled with the rest,
And ne'er thy foolish nose confess'd.
But fools, to talking ever prone,
Are sure to make their follies known.'
* * * * *
FABLE XLV.
THE POET AND THE ROSE.
I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.
Thus prudes, by characters o'erthrown,
Imagine that they raise their own.
Thus scribblers, covetous of praise,
Think slander can transplant the bays.
Beauties and bards have equal pride,
With both all rivals are decried.
Who praises Lesbia's eyes and feature,
Must call her sister, awkward creature;
_10
For the kind flattery's sure to charm,
When we some other nymph disarm.
As in the cool of early day
A poet sought the sweets of May,
The garden's fragrant breath ascends,
And every stalk with odour bends.
A rose he plucked, he gazed, admired,
Thus singing as the muse inspired:
'Go, rose, my Chloe's bosom grace;
How happy should I prove,
_20
Might I supply that envied place
With never fading love!
There, phoenix-like, beneath her eye,
Involved in fragrance, burn and die!
Know, hapless flower, that thou shalt find
More fragrant roses there;
I see thy withering head reclined
With envy and despair!
One common fate we both must prove;
You die with envy, I with love.'
_30
'Spare your comparisons,' replied
An angry rose, who grew beside.
'Of all mankind, you should not flout us;
What can a poet do without us!
In every love-song roses bloom;
We lend you colour and perfume.
Does it to Chloe's charms conduce,
To found her praise on our abuse?
Must we, to flatter her, be made
To wither, envy, pine and fade?'
_40
* * * * *
FABLE XLVI.
THE CUR, THE HORSE, AND THE SHEPHERD'S DOG.
The lad of all-sufficient merit,
With modesty ne'er damps his spirit;
Presuming on his own deserts,
On all alike his tongue exerts;
His noisy jokes at random throws,
And pertly spatters friends and foes;
In wit and war the bully race
Contribute to their own disgrace.
Too late the forward youth shall find
That jokes are sometimes paid in kind;
_10
Or if they canker in the breast,
He makes a foe who makes a jest.
A village-cur, of snappish race,
The pertest puppy of the place,
Imagined that his treble throat
Was blest with music's sweetest note:
In the mid road he basking lay,
The yelping nuisance of the way;
For not a creature passed along,
But had a sample of his song.
_20
Soon as the trotting steed he hears,
He starts, he cocks his dapper ears;
Away he scours, assaults his hoof;
Now near him snarls, now barks aloof;
With shrill impertinence attends;
Nor leaves him till the village ends.
It chanced, upon his evil day,
A pad came pacing down the way:
The cur, with never-ceasing tongue,
Upon the passing traveller sprung.
_30
The horse, from scorn provoked to ire,
Flung backward; rolling in the mire,
The puppy howled, and bleeding lay;
The pad in peace pursued the way.
A shepherd's dog, who saw the deed,
Detesting the vexatious breed,
Bespoke him thus: 'When coxcombs prate,
They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate;
Thy teasing tongue had judgment tied,
Thou hadst not, like a puppy, died.'
_40
* * * * *
FABLE XLVII.
THE COURT OF DEATH.
Death, on a solemn night of state,
In all his pomp of terror sate:
The attendants of his gloomy reign,
Diseases dire, a ghastly train!
Crowd the vast court. With hollow tone,
A voice thus thundered from the throne:
'This night our minister we name,
Let every servant speak his claim;
Merit shall bear this ebon wand;'
All, at the word, stretch'd forth their hand.
_10
Fever, with burning heat possess'd,
Advanced, and for the wand address'd:
'I to the weekly bills appeal,
Let those express my fervent zeal;
On every slight occasion near,
With violence I persevere.'
Next Gout appears with limping pace,
Pleads how he shifts from place to place,
From head to foot how swift he flies, 19
And every joint and sinew plies;
_20
Still working when he seems suppress'd,
A most tenacious stubborn guest.
A haggard spectre from the crew
Crawls forth, and thus asserts his due:
'Tis I who taint the sweetest joy,
And in the shape of love destroy:
My shanks, sunk eyes, and noseless face,
Prove my pretension to the place.'
Stone urged his ever-growing force.
And, next, Consumption's meagre corse,
_30
With feeble voice, that scarce was heard,
Broke with short coughs, his suit preferred:
'Let none object my ling'ring way,
I gain, like Fabius, by delay;
Fatigue and weaken every foe
By long attack, secure, though slow.'
Plague represents his rapid power,
Who thinned a nation in an hour.
All spoke their claim, and hoped the wand.
Now expectation hushed the band,
_40
When thus the monarch from the throne:
'Merit was ever modest known,
What, no physician speak his right!
None here! but fees their toils requite.
Let then Intemperance take the wand,
Who fills with gold their zealous hand.
You, Fever, Gout, and all the rest,
(Whom wary men, as foes, detest,)
Forego your claim; no more pretend:
Intemperance is esteemed a friend;
_50
He shares their mirth, their social joys,
And, as a courted guest, destroys.
The charge on him must justly fall,
Who finds employment for you all.'
* * * * *
FABLE XLVIII.
THE GARDENER AND THE HOG.
A gard'ner, of peculiar taste,
On a young hog his favour placed;
Who fed not with the common herd;
His tray was to the hall preferred.
He wallowed underneath the board,
Or in his master's chamber snored;
Who fondly stroked him every day,
And taught him all the puppy's play;
Where'er he went, the grunting friend
Ne'er failed his pleasure to attend.
_10
As on a time, the loving pair
Walked forth to tend the garden's care,
The master thus address'd the swine:
'My house, my garden, all is thine.
On turnips feast whene'er you please,
And riot in my beans and peas;
If the potato's taste delights,
Or the red carrot's sweet invites,
Indulge thy morn and evening hours,
But let due care regard my flowers:
_20
My tulips are my garden's pride,
What vast expense those beds supplied!'
The hog by chance one morning roamed,
Where with new ale the vessels foamed.
He munches now the steaming grains,
Now with full swill the liquor drains.
Intoxicating fumes arise; 27
He reels, he rolls his winking eyes;
Then stagg'ring through the garden scours,
And treads down painted ranks of flowers.
_30
With delving snout he turns the soil,
And cools his palate with the spoil.
The master came, the ruin spied,
'Villain, suspend thy rage,' he cried.
'Hast thou, thou most ungrateful sot,
My charge, my only charge forgot?
What, all my flowers!' No more he said,
But gazed, and sighed, and hung his head.
The hog with stutt'ring speech returns:
'Explain, sir, why your anger burns.
_40
See there, untouched, your tulips strown,
For I devoured the roots alone.'
At this the gard'ner's passion grows;
From oaths and threats he fell to blows.
The stubborn brute the blow sustains;
Assaults his leg, and tears the veins.
Ah! foolish swain, too late you find
That sties were for such friends designed!
Homeward he limps with painful pace,
Reflecting thus on past disgrace:
_50
Who cherishes a brutal mate
Shall mourn the folly soon or late.
* * * * *
FABLE XLIX.
THE MAN AND THE FLEA.
Whether on earth, in air, or main,
Sure everything alive is vain!
Does not the hawk all fowls survey,
As destined only for his prey?
And do not tyrants, prouder things,
Think men were born for slaves to kings?
When the crab views the pearly strands,
Or Tagus, bright with golden sands;
Or crawls beside the coral grove,
And hears the ocean roll above;
_10
'Nature is too profuse,' says he,
'Who gave all these to pleasure me!'
When bordering pinks and roses bloom,
And every garden breathes perfume;
When peaches glow with sunny dyes,
Like Laura's cheek, when blushes rise;
When with huge figs the branches bend,
When clusters from the vine depend;
The snail looks round on flower and tree,
And cries, 'All these were made for me!'
_20
'What dignity's in human nature!'
Says man, the most conceited creature,
As from a cliff he cast his eye,
And viewed the sea and arched sky;
The sun was sunk beneath the main,
The moon and all the starry train
Hung the vast vault of heaven. The man
His contemplation thus began:
'When I behold this glorious show,
And the wide watery world below,
_30
The scaly people of the main,
The beasts that range the wood or plain,
The winged inhabitants of air,
The day, the night, the various year,
And know all these by heaven design'd
As gifts to pleasure human kind;
I cannot raise my worth too high;
Of what vast consequence am I!'
'Not of the importance you suppose,'
Replies a flea upon his nose.
_40
'Be humble, learn thyself to scan;
Know, pride was never made for man.
'Tis vanity that swells thy mind.
What, heaven and earth for thee designed!
For thee, made only for our need,
That more important fleas might feed.'
* * * * *
FABLE L.
THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.
Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.
The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.
A hare, who in a civil way,
Complied with everything, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain.
_10
Her care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.
As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
_20
Till fainting in the public way,
Half-dead with fear, she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the horse appeared in view!
'Let me,' says she, 'your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight;
To friendship every burden's light.'
The horse replied—'Poor honest puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus;
_30
Be comforted, relief is near;
For all your friends are in the rear.'
She next the stately bull implored;
And thus replied the mighty lord—
'Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offence, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a favourite cow
Expects me near yon barley mow:
_40
And when a lady's in the case,
You know all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But see, the goat is just behind.'
The goat remarked her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye;
'My back,' says she, 'may do you harm;
The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm.'
The sheep was feeble, and complained
His sides a load of wool sustained:
_50
Said he was slow, confessed his fears;
For hounds cat sheep, as well as hares.
She now the trotting calf addressed,
To save from death a friend distressed.
'Shall I,' says he, 'of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler passed you by;
How strong are those! how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
_60
Excuse me then. You know my heart,
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu!
For see the hounds are just in view.'
* * * * *