PART II.
PUBLISHED AFTER GAY'S DEATH, BY THE DUKE OF QUEENSBERRY.
FABLE I.
THE DOG AND THE FOX.
TO A LAWYER.
I know you lawyers can with ease
Twist words and meanings as you please;
That language, by your skill made pliant,
Will bend to favour every client;
That 'tis the fee directs the sense,
To make out either side's pretence.
When you peruse the clearest case,
You see it with a double face:
For scepticism's your profession;
You hold there's doubt in all expression.
_10
Hence is the bar with fees supplied,
Hence eloquence takes either side.
Your hand would have but paltry gleaning
Could every man express his meaning.
Who dares presume to pen a deed.
Unless you previously are fee'd?
'Tis drawn; and, to augment the cost,
In dull prolixity engrossed.
And now we're well secured by law,
Till the next brother find a flaw.
_20
Read o'er a will. Was't ever known,
But you could make the will your own;
For when you read,'tis with intent
To find out meanings never meant.
Since things are thus, se defendendo,
I bar fallacious innuendo.
Sagacious Porta's[6] skill could trace
Some beast or bird in every face.
The head, the eye, the nose's shape,
Proved this an owl, and that an ape.
_30
When, in the sketches thus designed,
Resemblance brings some friend to mind,
You show the piece, and give the hint,
And find each feature in the print:
So monstrous like the portrait's found,
All know it, and the laugh goes round.
Like him I draw from general nature;
Is't I or you then fix the satire?
So, sir, I beg you spare your pains
In making comments on my strains.
_40
All private slander I detest,
I judge not of my neighbour's breast:
Party and prejudice I hate,
And write no libels on the state.
Shall not my fable censure vice,
Because a knave is over-nice?
And, lest the guilty hear and dread,
Shall not the decalogue be read?
If I lash vice in general fiction,
Is't I apply, or self-conviction?
_50
Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame,
If men in morals are the same?
I no man call an ape or ass:
Tis his own conscience holds the glass;
Thus void of all offence I write;
Who claims the fable, knows his right.
A shepherd's dog unskilled in sports,
Picked up acquaintance of all sorts:
Among the rest, a fox he knew;
By frequent chat their friendship grew.
_60
Says Reynard—' 'Tis a cruel case,
That man should stigmatise our race,
No doubt, among us rogues you find,
As among dogs, and human kind;
And yet (unknown to me and you)
There may be honest men and true.
Thus slander tries, whate'er it can,
To put us on the foot with man,
Let my own actions recommend;
No prejudice can blind a friend:
_70
You know me free from all disguise;
My honour as my life I prize.'
By talk like this, from all mistrust
The dog was cured, and thought him just.
As on a time the fox held forth
On conscience, honesty, and worth,
Sudden he stopp'd; he cocked his ear;
And dropp'd his brushy tail with fear.
'Bless us! the hunters are abroad—
What's all that clatter on the road?'
_80
'Hold,' says the dog, 'we're safe from harm;
'Twas nothing but a false alarm.
At yonder town, 'tis market day;
Some farmer's wife is on the way;
'Tis so, (I know her pyebald mare)
Dame Dobbins, with her poultry ware.'
Reynard grew huff. Says he, 'This sneer
From you I little thought to hear.
Your meaning in your looks I see;
Pray, what's Dame Dobbins, friend, to me?
_90
Did I e'er make her poultry thinner?
Prove that I owe the Dame a dinner.'
'Friend,' quoth the cur, 'I meant no harm;
Then, why so captious? why so warm?
My words in common acceptation,
Could never give this provocation.
No lamb (for ought I ever knew)
May be more innocent than you.'
At this, galled Reynard winced and swore
Such language ne'er was given before:
_100
'What's lamb to me? the saucy hint—
Show me, base knave, which way you squint,
If t'other night your master lost
Three lambs, am I to pay the cost?
Your vile reflections would imply
That I'm the thief. You dog, you lie.'
'Thou knave, thou fool,' the dog replied,
'The name is just, take either side;
Thy guilt these applications speak;
Sirrah,'tis conscience makes you squeak.'
_110
So saying, on the fox he flies,
The self-convicted felon dies.
* * * * *
FABLE II.
THE VULTURE, THE SPARROW, AND OTHER BIRDS.
TO A FRIEND IN THE COUNTRY.
Ere I begin, I must premise
Our ministers are good and wise;
So, though malicious tongues apply,
Pray what care they, or what care I?
If I am free with courts; be't known,
I ne'er presume to mean our own.
If general morals seem to joke
On ministers, and such like folk,
A captious fool may take offence;
What then? he knows his own pretence.
_10
I meddle with no state affairs,
But spare my jest to save my ears.
Our present schemes are too profound,
For Machiavel himself to sound:
To censure them I've no pretension;
I own they're past my comprehension.
You say your brother wants a place,
('Tis many a younger brother's case,)
And that he very soon intends
To ply the Court, and tease his friends.
_20
If there his merits chance to find
A patriot of an open mind,
Whose constant actions prove him just
To both a king's and people's trust;
May he with gratitude attend,
And owe his rise to such a friend.
You praise his parts, for business fit,
His learning, probity, and wit;
But those alone will never do,
Unless his patron have them too.
_30
I've heard of times (pray God defend us,
We're not so good but He can mend us)
When wicked ministers have trod
On kings and people, law and God;
With arrogance they girt the throne,
And knew no interest but their own.
Then virtue, from preferment barr'd,
Gets nothing but its own reward.
A gang of petty knaves attend 'em,
With proper parts to recommend 'em.
_40
Then if their patron burn with lust,
The first in favour's pimp the first.
His doors are never closed to spies,
Who cheer his heart with double lies;
They flatter him, his foes defame,
So lull the pangs of guilt and shame.
If schemes of lucre haunt his brain,
Projectors swell his greedy train;
Vile brokers ply his private ear
With jobs of plunder for the year;
_50
All consciences must bend and ply;
You must vote on, and not know why:
Through thick and thin you must go on;
One scruple, and your place is gone.
Since plagues like these have cursed a land,
And favourites cannot always stand;
Good courtiers should for change be ready,
And not have principles too steady:
For should a knave engross the power,
(God shield the realm, from that sad hour,)
_60
He must have rogues, or slavish fools:
For what's a knave without his tools?
Wherever those a people drain,
And strut with infamy and gain,
I envy not their guilt and state,
And scorn to share the public hate.
Let their own servile creatures rise
By screening fraud, and venting lies;
Give me, kind heaven, a private station,[7]
A mind serene for contemplation:
_70
Title and profit I resign;
The post of honour shall be mine.
My fable read, their merits view,
Then herd who will with such a crew.
In days of yore (my cautious rhymes
Always except the present times)
A greedy vulture skilled in game,
Inured to guilt, unawed by shame,
Approached the throne in evil hour,
And step by step intrudes to power;
_80
When at the royal eagle's ear,
He longs to ease the monarch's care.
The monarch grants. With pride elate,
Behold him minister of state!
Around him throng the feathered rout;
Friends must be served, and some must out,
Each thinks his own the best pretension;
This asks a place, and that a pension.
The nightingale was set aside,
A forward daw his room supplied.
_90
'This bird,' says he, 'for business fit,
Hath both sagacity and wit.
With all his turns, and shifts, and tricks,
He's docile, and at nothing sticks.
Then, with his neighbours one so free,
At all times will connive at me.'
The hawk had due distinction shown,
For parts and talents like his own.
Thousands of hireling cocks attends him,
As blustering bullies, to defend him.
_100
At once the ravens were discarded,
And magpies with their posts rewarded.
'Those fowls of omen I detest,
That pry into another's nest,
State-lies must lose all good intent;
For they foresee and croak the event.
My friends ne'er think, but talk by rote,
Speak what they're taught, and so to vote.'
'When rogues like these,' a sparrow cries,
'To honours and employments rise,
_110
I court no favour, ask no place;
For such preferment is disgrace.
Within my thatched retreat I find
(What these ne'er feel) true peace of mind.'
* * * * *
FABLE III.
THE BABOON AND THE POULTRY.
TO A LEVEE-HUNTER.
We frequently misplace esteem,
By judging men by what they seem,
To birth, wealth, power, we should allow
Precedence, and our lowest bow.
In that is due distinction shown,
Esteem is virtue's right alone.
With partial eye we're apt to see
The man of noble pedigree.
We're prepossess'd my lord inherits
In some degree his grandsire's merits;
_10
For those we find upon record:
But find him nothing but my lord.
When we with superficial view,
Gaze on the rich, we're dazzled too.
We know that wealth well understood,
Hath frequent power of doing good:
Then fancy that the thing is done,
As if the power and will were one.
Thus oft the cheated crowd adore
The thriving knaves that keep them poor.
_20
The cringing train of power survey:
What creatures are so low as they!
With what obsequiousness they bend!
To what vile actions condescend!
Their rise is on their meanness built,
And flattery is their smallest guilt.
What homage, rev'rence, adoration,
In every age, in every nation,
Have sycophants to power addressed!
No matter who the power possessed.
_30
Let ministers be what they will,
You find their levees always fill.
Even those who have perplexed a state,
Whose actions claim contempt and hate,
Had wretches to applaud their schemes,
Though more absurd than madmen's dreams.
When barbarous Moloch was invoked,
The blood of infants only smoked!
But here (unless all history lies)
Whole realms have been a sacrifice.
_40
Look through all Courts—'Tis power we find,
The general idol of mankind,
There worshipped under every shape;
Alike the lion, fox, and ape
Are followed by time-serving slaves,
Rich prostitutes, and needy knaves.
Who, then, shall glory in his post?
How frail his pride, how vain his boast!
The followers of his prosperous hour
Are as unstable as his power.
_50
Power by the breath of flattery nursed,
The more it swells, is nearer burst.
The bubble breaks, the gewgaw ends,
And in a dirty tear descends.
Once on a time, an ancient maid,
By wishes and by time decayed,
To cure the pangs of restless thought,
In birds and beasts amusement sought:
Dogs, parrots, apes, her hours employed;
With these alone she talked and toyed.
_60
A huge baboon her fancy took,
(Almost a man in size and look,)
He fingered everything he found,
And mimicked all the servants round.
Then, too, his parts and ready wit
Showed him for every business fit.
With all these talents, 'twas but just
That pug should hold a place of trust:
So to her fav'rite was assigned
The charge of all her feathered kind.
_70
'Twas his to tend 'em eve and morn,
And portion out their daily corn.
Behold him now with haughty stride,
Assume a ministerial pride.
The morning rose. In hope of picking,
Swans, turkeys, peacocks, ducks and chicken,
Fowls of all ranks surround his hut,
To worship his important strut.
The minister appears. The crowd
Now here, now there, obsequious bowed.
_80
This praised his parts, and that his face,
T'other his dignity in place.
From bill to bill the flattery ran:
He hears and bears it like a man:
For, when we flatter self-conceit,
We but his sentiments repeat.
If we're too scrupulously just,
What profit's in a place of trust?
The common practice of the great,
Is to secure a snug retreat.
_90
So pug began to turn his brain
(Like other folks in place) on gain.
An apple-woman's stall was near,
Well stocked with fruits through all the year;
Here every day he crammed his guts,
Hence were his hoards of pears and nuts;
For 'twas agreed (in way of trade)
His payments should in corn be made.
The stock of grain was quickly spent,
And no account which way it went.
_100
Then, too, the poultry's starved condition
Caused speculations of suspicion.
The facts were proved beyond dispute;
Pug must refund his hoards of fruit:
And, though then minister in chief,
Was branded as a public thief.
Disgraced, despised, confined to chains,
He nothing but his pride retains.
A goose passed by; he knew the face,
Seen every levee while in place.
_110
'What, no respect! no reverence shown?
How saucy are these creatures grown!
Not two days since,' says he, 'you bowed
The lowest of my fawning crowd.'
'Proud fool,' replies the goose,''tis true,
Thy corn a fluttering levee drew!
For that I joined the hungry train,
And sold thee flattery for thy grain.
But then, as now, conceited ape,
We saw thee in thy proper shape.'
_120
* * * * *
FABLE IV.
THE ANT IN OFFICE.
TO A FRIEND.
You tell me, that you apprehend
My verse may touchy folks offend.
In prudence too you think my rhymes
Should never squint at courtiers' crimes:
For though nor this, nor that is meant,
Can we another's thoughts prevent?
You ask me if I ever knew
Court chaplains thus the lawn pursue.
I meddle not with gown or lawn;
Poets, I grant, to rise must fawn.
_10
They know great ears are over-nice,
And never shock their patron's vice.
But I this hackney path despise;
'Tis my ambition not to rise.
If I must prostitute the Muse,
The base conditions I refuse.
I neither flatter nor defame,
Yet own I would bring guilt to shame.
If I corruption's hand expose,
I make corrupted men my foes.
_20
What then? I hate the paltry tribe;
Be virtue mine; be theirs the bribe.
I no man's property invade;
Corruption's yet no lawful trade.
Nor would it mighty ills produce,
Could I shame bribery out of use,
I know 'twould cramp most politicians,
Were they tied down to these conditions.
'Twould stint their power, their riches bound,
And make their parts seem less profound.
_30
Were they denied their proper tools,
How could they lead their knaves and fools?
Were this the case, let's take a view,
What dreadful mischiefs would ensue;
Though it might aggrandise the state,
Could private luxury dine on plate?
Kings might indeed their friends reward,
But ministers find less regard.
Informers, sycophants, and spies,
Would not augment the year's supplies.
_40
Perhaps, too, take away this prop,
An annual job or two might drop.
Besides, if pensions were denied,
Could avarice support its pride?
It might even ministers confound,
And yet the state be safe and sound.
I care not though 'tis understood
I only mean my country's good:
And (let who will my freedom blame)
I wish all courtiers did the same.
_50
Nay, though some folks the less might get,
I wish the nation out of debt.
I put no private man's ambition
With public good in competition:
Rather than have our law defaced,
I'd vote a minister disgraced.
I strike at vice, be't where it will;
And what if great folks take it ill?
I hope corruption, bribery, pension,
One may with detestation mention:
_60
Think you the law (let who will take it)
Can scandalum magnatum make it?
I vent no slander, owe no grudge,
Nor of another's conscience judge:
At him, or him, I take no aim,
Yet dare against all vice declaim.
Shall I not censure breach of trust,
Because knaves know themselves unjust?
That steward, whose account is clear,
Demands his honour may appear:
_70
His actions never shun the light,
He is, and would be proved upright.
But then you think my fable bears
Allusion, too, to state affairs.
I grant it does: and who's so great,
That has the privilege to cheat?
If, then, in any future reign
(For ministers may thirst for gain;)
Corrupted hands defraud the nation,
I bar no reader's application.
_80
An ant there was, whose forward prate
Controlled all matters in debate;
Whether he knew the thing or no,
His tongue eternally would go.
For he had impudence at will,
And boasted universal skill.
Ambition was his point in view;
Thus, by degrees, to power he grew.
Behold him now his drift attain:
He's made chief treasurer of the grain.
_90
But as their ancient laws are just,
And punish breach of public trust,
'Tis ordered (lest wrong application
Should starve that wise industrious nation)
That all accounts be stated clear,
Their stock, and what defrayed the year:
That auditors should these inspect, 97
And public rapine thus be checked.
For this the solemn day was set,
The auditors in council met.
_100
The granary-keeper must explain,
And balance his account of grain.
He brought (since he could not refuse 'em)
Some scraps of paper to amuse 'em.
An honest pismire, warm with zeal,
In justice to the public weal,
Thus spoke: 'The nation's hoard is low,
From whence doth this profusion flow?
I know our annual funds' amount.
Why such expense, and where's the account?'
_110
With wonted arrogance and pride,
The ant in office thus replied:
'Consider, sirs, were secrets told,
How could the best-schemed projects hold?
Should we state-mysteries disclose,
'Twould lay us open to our foes.
My duty and my well-known zeal
Bid me our present schemes conceal.
But on my honour, all the expense
(Though vast) was for the swarm's defence.
_120
They passed the account as fair and just,
And voted him implicit trust.
Next year again the granary drained,
He thus his innocence maintained:
'Think how our present matters stand,
What dangers threat from every hand;
What hosts of turkeys stroll for food,
No farmer's wife but hath her brood.
Consider, when invasion's near,
Intelligence must cost us dear;
_130
And, in this ticklish situation,
A secret told betrays the nation.
But, on my honour, all the expense
(Though vast) was for the swarm's defence.'
Again, without examination,
They thanked his sage administration.
The year revolves. The treasure spent,
Again in secret service went.
His honour too again was pledged,
To satisfy the charge alleged.
_140
When thus, with panic shame possessed,
An auditor his friends addressed:
'What are we? Ministerial tools.
We little knaves are greater fools.
At last this secret is explored;
'Tis our corruption thins the hoard.
For every grain we touched, at least
A thousand his own heaps increased.
Then for his kin, and favourite spies,
A hundred hardly could suffice.
_150
Thus, for a paltry sneaking bribe,
We cheat ourselves, and all the tribe;
For all the magazine contains,
Grows from our annual toil and pains.'
They vote the account shall be inspected;
The cunning plunderer is detected;
The fraud is sentenced; and his hoard,
As due, to public use restored.
* * * * *
FABLE V.
THE BEAR IN A BOAT.
TO A COXCOMB.
That man must daily wiser grow,
Whose search is bent himself to know;
Impartially he weighs his scope,
And on firm reason founds his hope;
He tries his strength before the race,
And never seeks his own disgrace;
He knows the compass, sail, and oar,
Or never launches from the shore;
Before he builds, computes the cost;
And in no proud pursuit is lost:
_10
He learns the bounds of human sense,
And safely walks within the fence.
Thus, conscious of his own defect,
Are pride and self-importance check'd.
If then, self-knowledge to pursue,
Direct our life in every view,
Of all the fools that pride can boast,
A coxcomb claims distinction most.
Coxcombs are of all ranks and kind:
They're not to sex or age confined,
_20
Or rich, or poor, or great, or small;
And vanity besets them all.
By ignorance is pride increased:
Those most assume who know the least;
Their own false balance gives them weight,
But every other finds them light.
Not that all coxcombs' follies strike,
And draw our ridicule alike;
To different merits each pretends.
This in love-vanity transcends;
_30
That smitten with his face and shape,
By dress distinguishes the ape;
T'other with learning crams his shelf,
Knows books, and all things but himself.
All these are fools of low condition,
Compared with coxcombs of ambition.
For those, puffed up with flattery, dare
Assume a nation's various care.
They ne'er the grossest praise mistrust,
Their sycophants seem hardly just;
_40
For these, in part alone, attest
The flattery their own thoughts suggest.
In this wide sphere a coxcomb's shown
In other realms beside his own:
The self-deemed Machiavel at large
By turns controls in every charge.
Does commerce suffer in her rights?
'Tis he directs the naval flights.
What sailor dares dispute his skill?
He'll be an admiral when he will.
_50
Now meddling in the soldier's trade,
Troops must be hired, and levies made.
He gives ambassadors their cue,
His cobbled treaties to renew;
And annual taxes must suffice
The current blunders to disguise
When his crude schemes in air are lost,
And millions scarce defray the cost,
His arrogance (nought undismayed)
Trusting in self-sufficient aid,
_60
On other rocks misguides the realm,
And thinks a pilot at the helm.
He ne'er suspects his want of skill,
But blunders on from ill to ill;
And, when he fails of all intent,
Blames only unforeseen event.
Lest you mistake the application,
The fable calls me to relation.
A bear of shag and manners rough,
At climbing trees expert enough;
_70
For dextrously, and safe from harm,
Year after year he robbed the swarm.
Thus thriving on industrious toil,
He gloried in his pilfered spoil.
This trick so swelled him with conceit,
He thought no enterprise too great.
Alike in sciences and arts,
He boasted universal parts;
Pragmatic, busy, bustling, bold,
His arrogance was uncontrolled:
_80
And thus he made his party good,
And grew dictator of the wood.
The beasts with admiration stare,
And think him a prodigious bear.
Were any common booty got,
'Twas his each portion to allot:
For why, he found there might be picking,
Even in the carving of a chicken.
Intruding thus, he by degrees
Claimed too the butcher's larger fees.
_90
And now his over-weening pride
In every province will preside.
No talk too difficult was found:
His blundering nose misleads the hound.
In stratagem and subtle arts,
He overrules the fox's parts.
It chanced, as, on a certain day,
Along the bank he took his way,
A boat, with rudder, sail, and oar,
At anchor floated near the shore.
_100
He stopp'd, and turning to his train,
Thus pertly vents his vaunting strain:
'What blundering puppies are mankind,
In every science always blind!
I mock the pedantry of schools.
What are their compasses and rules?
From me that helm shall conduct learn.
And man his ignorance discern.'
So saying, with audacious pride,
He gains the boat, and climbs the side.
_110
The beasts astonished, lined the strand,
The anchor's weighed, he drives from land:
The slack sail shifts from side to side;
The boat untrimmed admits the tide,
Borne down, adrift, at random toss'd,
His oar breaks short, the rudder's lost.
The bear, presuming in his skill,
Is here and there officious still;
Till striking on the dangerous sands,
Aground the shattered vessel stands.
_120
To see the bungler thus distress'd,
The very fishes sneer and jest.
Even gudgeons join in ridicule,
To mortify the meddling fool.
The clamorous watermen appear;
Threats, curses, oaths, insult his ear:
Seized, thrashed, and chained, he's dragged to land;
Derision shouts along the strand.
* * * * *
FABLE VI.
THE SQUIRE AND HIS CUR.
TO A COUNTRY GENTLEMAN.
The man of pure and simple heart
Through life disdains a double part.
He never needs the screen of lies
His inward bosom to disguise.
In vain malicious tongues assail;
Let envy snarl, let slander rail,
From virtue's shield (secure from wound)
Their blunted, venomed shafts rebound.
So shines his light before mankind,
His actions prove his honest mind.
_10
If in his country's cause he rise,
Debating senates to advise,
Unbribed, unawed, he dares impart
The honest dictates of his heart.
No ministerial frown he fears,
But in his virtue perseveres.
But would you play the politician,
Whose heart's averse to intuition,
Your lips at all times, nay, your reason
Must be controlled by place and season.
_20
What statesman could his power support
Were lying tongues forbid the court?
Did princely ears to truth attend,
What minister could gain his end?
How could he raise his tools to place,
And how his honest foes disgrace?
That politician tops his part,
Who readily can lie with art:
The man's proficient in his trade;
His power is strong, his fortune's made.
_30
By that the interest of the throne
Is made subservient to his own:
By that have kings of old, deluded,
All their own friends for his excluded.
By that, his selfish schemes pursuing,
He thrives upon the public ruin.
Antiochus,[8] with hardy pace,
Provoked the dangers of the chase;
And, lost from all his menial train,
Traversed the wood and pathless plain.
_40
A cottage lodged the royal guest!
The Parthian clown brought forth his best.
The king, unknown, his feast enjoyed,
And various chat the hours employed.
From wine what sudden friendship springs!
Frankly they talked of courts and kings.
'We country-folks,' the clown replies,
'Could ope our gracious monarch's eyes.
The king, (as all our neighbours say,)
Might he (God bless him) have his way,
_50
Is sound at heart, and means our good,
And he would do it, if he could.
If truth in courts were not forbid,
Nor kings nor subjects would be rid.
Were he in power, we need not doubt him:
But that transferred to those about him,
On them he throws the regal cares:
And what mind they? Their own affairs.
If such rapacious hands he trust,
The best of men may seem unjust.
_60
From kings to cobblers 'tis the same:
Bad servants wound their master's fame.
In this our neighbours all agree:
Would the king knew as much as we.'
Here he stopp'd short. Repose they sought,
The peasant slept, the monarch thought.
The courtiers learned, at early dawn,
Where their lost sovereign was withdrawn.
The guards' approach our host alarms,
With gaudy coats the cottage swarms.
_70
The crown and purple robes they bring,
And prostrate fall before the king.
The clown was called, the royal guest
By due reward his thanks express'd.
The king then, turning to the crowd,
Who fawningly before him bow'd,
Thus spoke: 'Since, bent on private gain,
Your counsels first misled my reign,
Taught and informed by you alone,
No truth the royal ear hath known,
_80
Till here conversing. Hence, ye crew,
For now I know myself and you.'
Whene'er the royal ear's engross'd,
State-lies but little genius cost.
The favourite then securely robs,
And gleans a nation by his jobs.
Franker and bolder grown in ill,
He daily poisons dares instil;
And, as his present views suggest,
Inflames or soothes the royal breast.
_90
Thus wicked ministers oppress,
When oft the monarch means redress.
Would kings their private subjects hear,
A minister must talk with fear.
If honesty opposed his views,
He dared not innocence excuse.
'Twould keep him in such narrow bound,
He could not right and wrong confound.
Happy were kings, could they disclose
Their real friends and real foes!
_100
Were both themselves and subjects known,
A monarch's will might be his own.
Had he the use of ears and eyes,
Knaves would no more be counted wise.
But then a minister might lose
(Hard case!) his own ambitious views.
When such as these have vexed a state,
Pursued by universal hate,
Their false support at once hath failed,
And persevering truth prevailed.
_110
Exposed their train of fraud is seen;
Truth will at last remove the screen.
A country squire, by whim directed,
The true stanch dogs of chase neglected.
Beneath his board no hound was fed,
His hand ne'er stroked the spaniel's head.
A snappish cur, alone caress'd,
By lies had banished all the rest.
Yap had his ear; and defamation
Gave him full scope of conversation.
_120
His sycophants must be preferr'd,
Room must be made for all his herd:
Wherefore, to bring his schemes about,
Old faithful servants all must out.
The cur on every creature flew,
(As other great men's puppies do,)
Unless due court to him were shown,
And both their face and business known,
No honest tongue an audience found:
He worried all the tenants round;
_130
For why, he lived in constant fear,
Lest truth, by chance, should interfere.
If any stranger dare intrude,
The noisy cur his heels pursued.
Now fierce with rage, now struck with dread,
At once he snarled, bit, and fled.
Aloof he bays, with bristling hair,
And thus in secret growls his fear:
'Who knows but truth, in this disguise,
May frustrate my best-guarded lies?
_140
Should she (thus masked) admittance find,
That very hour my ruin's signed.'
Now, in his howl's continued sound,
Their words were lost, their voice was drown'd.
Ever in awe of honest tongues,
Thus every day he strained his lungs.
It happened, in ill-omened hour,
That Yap, unmindful of his power,
Forsook his post, to love inclined;
A favourite bitch was in the wind.
_150
By her seduced, in amorous play,
They frisked the joyous hours away.
Thus, by untimely love pursuing,
Like Antony, he sought his ruin.
For now the squire, unvexed with noise,
An honest neighbour's chat enjoys.
'Be free,' says he, 'your mind impart;
I love a friendly open heart.
Methinks my tenants shun my gate;
Why such a stranger grown of late?
_160
Pray tell me what offence they find:
'Tis plain they're not so well inclined.'
'Turn off your cur,' the farmer cries,
'Who feeds your ear with daily lies.
His snarling insolence offends; 165
'Tis he that keeps you from your friends.
Were but that saucy puppy check'd,
You'd find again the same respect.
Hear only him, he'll swear it too,
That all our hatred is to you.
_170
But learn from us your true estate;
'Tis that cursed cur alone we hate.'
The squire heard truth. Now Yap rushed in;
The wide hall echoes with his din:
Yet truth prevailed; and with disgrace,
The dog was cudgelled out of place.
* * * * *
FABLE VII.
THE COUNTRYMAN AND JUPITER.
TO MYSELF.
Have you a friend (look round and spy)
So fond, so prepossessed as I?
Your faults, so obvious to mankind,
My partial eyes could never find.
When by the breath of fortune blown,
Your airy castles were o'erthrown;
Have I been over-prone to blame,
Or mortified your hours with shame?
Was I e'er known to damp your spirit,
Or twit you with the want of merit?
_10
'Tis not so strange, that Fortune's frown
Still perseveres to keep you down.
Look round, and see what others do.
Would you be rich and honest too?
Have you (like those she raised to place)
Been opportunely mean and base?
Have you (as times required) resigned
Truth, honour, virtue, peace of mind?
If these are scruples, give her o'er;
Write, practise morals, and be poor.
_20
The gifts of fortune truly rate;
Then tell me what would mend your state.
If happiness on wealth were built,
Rich rogues might comfort find in guilt;
As grows the miser's hoarded store,
His fears, his wants, increase the more.
Think, Gay, (what ne'er may be the case,)
Should fortune take you into grace,
Would that your happiness augment?
What can she give beyond content?
_30
Suppose yourself a wealthy heir,
With a vast annual income clear!
In all the affluence you possess,
You might not feel one care the less.
Might you not then (like others) find
With change of fortune, change of mind?
Perhaps, profuse beyond all rule,
You might start out a glaring fool;
Your luxury might break all bounds;
Plate, table, horses, stewards, hounds,
_40
Might swell your debts: then, lust of play
No regal income can defray.
Sunk is all credit, writs assail,
And doom your future life to jail.
Or were you dignified with power,
Would that avert one pensive hour?
You might give avarice its swing,
Defraud a nation, blind a king:
Then, from the hirelings in your cause,
Though daily fed with false applause,
_50
Could it a real joy impart?
Great guilt knew never joy at heart.
Is happiness your point in view?
(I mean the intrinsic and the true)
She nor in camps or courts resides,
Nor in the humble cottage hides;
Yet found alike in every sphere;
Who finds content, will find her there.
O'erspent with toil, beneath the shade,
A peasant rested on his spade.
_60
'Good gods!' he cries, ''tis hard to bear
This load of life from year to year.
Soon as the morning streaks the skies,
Industrious labour bids me rise;
With sweat I earn my homely fare,
And every day renews my care.'
Jove heard the discontented strain,
And thus rebuked the murmuring swain:
'Speak out your wants then, honest friend:
Unjust complaints the gods offend.
_70
If you repine at partial fate,
Instruct me what could mend your state.
Mankind in every station see.
What wish you? Tell me what you'd be.'
So said, upborne upon a cloud,
The clown surveyed the anxious crowd.
'Yon face of care,' says Jove, 'behold,
His bulky bags are filled with gold.
See with what joy he counts it o'er!
That sum to-day hath swelled his store.'
_80
'Were I that man,' the peasant cried,
'What blessing could I ask beside?'
'Hold,' says the god; 'first learn to know
True happiness from outward show.
This optic glass of intuition——
Here, take it, view his true condition.'
He looked, and saw the miser's breast,
A troubled ocean, ne'er at rest;
Want ever stares him in the face,
And fear anticipates disgrace:
_90
With conscious guilt he saw him start;
Extortion gnaws his throbbing heart;
And never, or in thought or dream,
His breast admits one happy gleam.
'May Jove,' he cries, 'reject my prayer,
And guard my life from guilt and care.
My soul abhors that wretch's fate.
O keep me in my humble state!
But see, amidst a gaudy crowd,
Yon minister, so gay and proud,
_100
On him what happiness attends,
Who thus rewards his grateful friends!'
'First take the glass,' the god replies:
'Man views the world with partial eyes.'
'Good gods!' exclaims the startled wight,
'Defend me from this hideous sight!
Corruption, with corrosive smart,
Lies cankering on his guilty heart:
I see him, with polluted hand,
Spread the contagion o'er the land,
_110
Now avarice with insatiate jaws,
Now rapine with her harpy claws
His bosom tears. His conscious breast
Groans, with a load of crimes oppress'd.
See him, mad and drunk with power,
Stand tottering on ambition's tower.
Sometimes, in speeches vain and proud,
His boasts insult the nether crowd;
Now, seized with giddiness and fear,
He trembles lest his fall is near.
_120
'Was ever wretch like this?' he cries;
'Such misery in such disguise!
The change, O Jove, I disavow;
Still be my lot the spade and plough.'
He next, confirmed by speculation,
Rejects the lawyer's occupation;
For he the statesman seemed in part,
And bore similitude of heart.
Nor did the soldier's trade inflame
His hopes with thirst of spoil and fame,
_130
The miseries of war he mourned;
Whole nations into deserts turned.
By these have laws and rights been braved;
By these were free-born men enslaved:
When battles and invasion cease,
Why swarm they in a land of peace?
'Such change,' says he, 'may I decline;
The scythe and civil arms be mine!'
Thus, weighing life in each condition,
The clown withdrew his rash petition.
_140
When thus the god: 'How mortals err!
If you true happiness prefer,
'Tis to no rank of life confined,
But dwells in every honest mind.
Be justice then your sole pursuit:
Plant virtue, and content's the fruit.'
So Jove, to gratify the clown,
Where first he found him set him down.
* * * * *
FABLE VIII.
THE MAN, THE CAT, THE DOG, AND THE FLY.
TO MY NATIVE COUNTRY.
Hail, happy land, whose fertile grounds
The liquid fence of Neptune bounds;
By bounteous Nature set apart,
The seat of industry and art!
O Britain! chosen port of trade,
May luxury ne'er thy sons invade;
May never minister (intent
His private treasures to augment)
Corrupt thy state. If jealous foes
Thy rights of commerce dare oppose,
_10
Shall not thy fleets their rapine awe?
Who is't prescribes the ocean law?
Whenever neighbouring states contend,
'Tis thine to be the general friend.
What is't, who rules in other lands?
On trade alone thy glory stands.
That benefit is unconfined,
Diffusing good among mankind:
That first gave lustre to thy reigns,
And scattered plenty o'er thy plains:
_20
'Tis that alone thy wealth supplies,
And draws all Europe's envious eyes.
Be commerce then thy sole design;
Keep that, and all the world is thine.
When naval traffic ploughs the main,
Who shares not in the merchant's gain?
'Tis that supports the regal state,
And makes the farmer's heart elate:
The numerous flocks, that clothe the land,
Can scarce supply the loom's demand;
_30
Prolific culture glads the fields,
And the bare heath a harvest yields.
Nature expects mankind should share
The duties of the public care.
Who's born for sloth?[9] To some we find
The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd.
Some at the sounding anvil glow;
Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw;
Some, studious of the wind and tide,
From pole to pole our commerce guide:
_40
Some (taught by industry) impart
With hands and feet the works of art;
While some, of genius more refined,
With head and tongue assist mankind:
Each, aiming at one common end,
Proves to the whole a needful friend.
Thus, born each other's useful aid,
By turns are obligations paid.
The monarch, when his table's spread,
Is to the clown obliged for bread;
_50
And when in all his glory dress'd,
Owes to the loom his royal vest.
Do not the mason's toil and care
Protect him from the inclement air?
Does not the cutler's art supply
The ornament that guards his thigh?
All these, in duty to the throne,
Their common obligations own.
'Tis he (his own and people's cause)
Protects their properties and laws.
_60
Thus they their honest toil employ,
And with content their fruits enjoy.
In every rank, or great or small,
'Tis industry supports us all.
The animals by want oppressed,
To man their services addressed;
While each pursued their selfish good,
They hungered for precarious food.
Their hours with anxious cares were vex'd;
One day they fed, and starved the next.
_70
They saw that plenty, sure and rife,
Was found alone in social life;
That mutual industry professed,
The various wants of man redressed.
The cat, half-famished, lean and weak,
Demands the privilege to speak.
'Well, puss,' says man, 'and what can you
To benefit the public do?'
The cat replies: 'These teeth, these claws,
With vigilance shall serve the cause.
_80
The mouse destroyed by my pursuit,
No longer shall your feasts pollute;
Nor rats, from nightly ambuscade,
With wasteful teeth your stores invade.'
'I grant,' says man, 'to general use
Your parts and talents may conduce;
For rats and mice purloin our grain,
And threshers whirl the flail in vain:
Thus shall the cat, a foe to spoil,
Protect the farmer's honest toil,'
_90
Then, turning to the dog, he cried,
'Well, sir; be next your merits tried.'
'Sir,' says the dog, 'by self-applause
We seem to own a friendless cause.
Ask those who know me, if distrust
E'er found me treacherous or unjust?
Did I e'er faith or friendship break?
Ask all those creatures; let them speak.
My vigilance and trusty zeal
Perhaps might serve the public weal.
_100
Might not your flocks in safety feed,
Were I to guard the fleecy breed?
Did I the nightly watches keep,
Could thieves invade you while you sleep?'
The man replies: ''Tis just and right;
Rewards such service should requite.
So rare, in property, we find
Trust uncorrupt among mankind,
That, taken, in a public view,
The first distinction is your due.
_110
Such merits all reward transcend:
Be then my comrade and my friend.'
Addressing now the fly: 'From you
What public service can accrue?'
'From me!' the flutt'ring insect said;
'I thought you knew me better bred.
Sir, I'm a gentleman. Is't fit
That I to industry submit?
Let mean mechanics, to be fed
By business earn ignoble bread.
_120
Lost in excess of daily joys,
No thought, no care my life annoys,
At noon (the lady's matin hour)
I sip the tea's delicious flower.
On cakes luxuriously I dine,
And drink the fragrance of the vine.
Studious of elegance and ease,
Myself alone I seek to please.'
The man his pert conceit derides,
And thus the useless coxcomb chides:
_130
'Hence, from that peach, that downy seat,
No idle fool deserves to eat.
Could you have sapped the blushing rind,
And on that pulp ambrosial dined,
Had not some hand with skill and toil,
To raise the tree, prepared the soil?
Consider, sot, what would ensue,
Were all such worthless things as you.
You'd soon be forced (by hunger stung)
To make your dirty meals on dung;
_140
On which such despicable need,
Unpitied, is reduced to feed;
Besides, vain selfish insect, learn
(If you can right and wrong discern)
That he who, with industrious zeal,
Contributes to the public weal,
By adding to the common good,
His own hath rightly understood.'
So saying, with a sudden blow,
He laid the noxious vagrant low.
_150
Crushed in his luxury and pride,
The spunger on the public died.
* * * * *
FABLE IX.
THE JACKALL, LEOPARD, AND OTHER BEASTS
TO A MODERN POLITICIAN.
I grant corruption sways mankind;
That interest too perverts the mind;
That bribes have blinded common sense,
Foiled reason, truth, and eloquence:
I grant you too, our present crimes
Can equal those of former times.
Against plain facts shall I engage,
To vindicate our righteous age?
I know, that in a modern fist,
Bribes in full energy subsist.
_10
Since then these arguments prevail,
And itching palms are still so frail,
Hence politicians, you suggest,
Should drive the nail that goes the best;
That it shows parts and penetration,
To ply men with the right temptation.
To this I humbly must dissent;
Premising no reflection's meant.
Does justice or the client's sense
Teach lawyers either side's defence?
_20
The fee gives eloquence its spirit;
That only is the client's merit.
Does art, wit, wisdom, or address,
Obtain the prostitute's caress?
The guinea (as in other trades)
From every hand alike persuades.
Man, Scripture says, is prone to evil,
But does that vindicate the devil?
Besides, the more mankind are prone,
The less the devil's parts are shown.
_30
Corruption's not of modern date;
It hath been tried in every state.
Great knaves of old their power have fenced,
By places, pensions, bribes, dispensed;
By these they gloried in success,
And impudently dared oppress;
By these despoticly they swayed,
And slaves extolled the hand that paid;
Nor parts, nor genius were employed,
By these alone were realms destroyed.
_40
Now see these wretches in disgrace,
Stripp'd of their treasures, power, and place;
View them abandoned and forlorn,
Exposed to just reproach and scorn.
What now is all your pride, your boast?
Where are your slaves, your flattering host?
What tongues now feed you with applause?
Where are the champions of your cause?
Now even that very fawning train
Which shared the gleanings of your gain,
_50
Press foremost who shall first accuse
Your selfish jobs, your paltry views,
Your narrow schemes, your breach of trust,
And want of talents to be just.
What fools were these amidst their power!
How thoughtless of their adverse hour!
What friends were made? A hireling herd,
For temporary votes preferr'd.
Was it, these sycophants to get,
Your bounty swelled a nation's debt?
_60
You're bit. For these, like Swiss attend;
No longer pay, no longer friend.
The lion is, beyond dispute,
Allowed the most majestic brute;
His valour and his generous mind
Prove him superior of his kind.
Yet to jackals (as 'tis averred)
Some lions have their power transferred;
As if the parts of pimps and spies
To govern forests could suffice.
_70
Once, studious of his private good,
A proud jackal oppressed the wood;
To cram his own insatiate jaws, 73
Invaded property and laws;
The forest groans with discontent,
Fresh wrongs the general hate foment,
The spreading murmurs reached his ear;
His secret hours were vexed with fear.
Night after night he weighs the case,
And feels the terrors of disgrace.
_80
'By friends,' says he, 'I'll guard my seat,
By those malicious tongues defeat:
I'll strengthen power by new allies,
And all my clamorous foes despise.'
To make the generous beasts his friends,
He cringes, fawns, and condescends;
But those repulsed his abject court,
And scorned oppression to support.
Friends must be had. He can't subsist.
Bribes shall new proselytes inlist.
_90
But these nought weighed in honest paws;
For bribes confess a wicked cause:
Yet think not every paw withstands
What had prevailed in human hands.
A tempting turnip's silver skin
Drew a base hog through thick and thin:
Bought with a stag's delicious haunch,
The mercenary wolf was stanch:
The convert fox grew warm and hearty,
A pullet gained him to the party;
_100
The golden pippin in his fist,
A chattering monkey joined the list.
But soon exposed to public hate,
The favourite's fall redressed the state.
The leopard, vindicating right,
Had brought his secret frauds to light,
As rats, before the mansion falls,
Desert late hospitable walls,
In shoals the servile creatures run,
To bow before the rising sun.
_110
The hog with warmth expressed his zeal,
And was for hanging those that steal;
But hoped, though low, the public hoard
Might half a turnip still afford.
Since saving measures were profess'd,
A lamb's head was the wolf's request.
The fox submitted if to touch
A gosling would be deemed too much.
The monkey thought his grin and chatter,
Might ask a nut or some such matter.
_120
'Ye hirelings, hence,' the leopard cries;
'Your venal conscience I despise.
He who the public good intends,
By bribes needs never purchase friends.
Who acts this just, this open part,
Is propp'd by every honest heart.
Corruption now too late hath showed,
That bribes are always ill-bestowed,
By you your bubbled master's taught,
Time-serving tools, not friends, are bought.'
_130
* * * * *
FABLE X.
THE DEGENERATE BEES.
TO THE REVEREND DR SWIFT, DEAN OF ST PATRICK'S.
Though Courts the practice disallow,
A friend at all times I'll avow.
In politics I know 'tis wrong:
A friendship may be kept too long;
And what they call the prudent part,
Is to wear interest next the heart,
As the times take a different face,
Old friendships should to new give place.
I know too you have many foes,
That owning you is sharing those,
_10
That every knave in every station,
Of high and low denomination,
For what you speak, and what you write,
Dread you at once, and bear you spite.
Such freedoms in your works are shown
They can't enjoy what's not their own;
All dunces too, in church and state,
In frothy nonsense show their hate;
With all the petty scribbling crew,
(And those pert sots are not a few,)
_20
'Gainst you and Pope their envy spurt,
The booksellers alone are hurt.
Good gods! by what a powerful race
(For blockheads may have power and place)
Are scandals raised and libels writ!
To prove your honesty and wit!
Think with yourself: Those worthy men,
You know, have suffered by your pen.
From them you've nothing but your due.
From thence, 'tis plain, your friends are few.
_30
Except myself, I know of none,
Besides the wise and good alone.
To set the case in fairer light,
My fable shall the rest recite;
Which (though unlike our present state)
I for the moral's sake relate.
A bee of cunning, not of parts,
Luxurious, negligent of arts,
Rapacious, arrogant, and vain,
Greedy of power, but more of gain,
_40
Corruption sowed throughout the hive,
By petty rogues the great ones thrive.
As power and wealth his views supplied,
'Twas seen in over-bearing pride.
With him loud impudence had merit;
The bee of conscience wanted spirit;
And those who followed honour's rules,
Were laughed to scorn for squeamish fools,
Wealth claimed distinction, favour, grace;
And poverty alone was base.
_50
He treated industry with slight,
Unless he found his profit by't.
Eights, laws, and liberties gave way,
To bring his selfish schemes in play.
The swarm forgot the common toil,
To share the gleanings of his spoil.
'While vulgar souls of narrow parts,
Waste life in low mechanic arts,
Let us,' says he, 'to genius born,
The drudgery of our fathers scorn.
_60
The wasp and drone, you must agree,
Live with more elegance than we.
Like gentlemen they sport and play;
No business interrupts the day;
Their hours to luxury they give,
And nobly on their neighbours live.'
A stubborn bee, among the swarm,
With honest indignation warm,
Thus from his cell with zeal replied:
'I slight thy frowns, and hate thy pride.
_70
The laws our native rights protect;
Offending thee, I those respect.
Shall luxury corrupt the hive,
And none against the torrent strive?
Exert the honour of your race;
He builds his rise on your disgrace.
'Tis industry our state maintains:
'Twas honest toils and honest gains
That raised our sires to power and fame.
Be virtuous; save yourselves from shame.
_80
Know, that in selfish ends pursuing,
You scramble for the public ruin.'
He spoke; and from his cell dismissed,
Was insolently scoffed and hissed.
With him a friend or two resigned,
Disdaining the degenerate kind.
'These drones,' says he, 'these insects vile,
(I treat them in their proper style,)
May for a time oppress the state,
They own our virtue by their hate;
_90
By that our merits they reveal,
And recommend our public zeal;
Disgraced by this corrupted crew,
We're honoured by the virtuous few.'
* * * * *
FABLE XI.
THE PACK-HORSE AND THE CARRIER.
TO A YOUNG NOBLEMAN.
Begin, my lord, in early youth,
To suffer, nay, encourage truth:
And blame me not for disrespect,
If I the flatterer's style reject;
With that, by menial tongues supplied,
You're daily cocker'd up in pride.
The tree's distinguished by the fruit,
Be virtue then your sole pursuit;
Set your great ancestors in view,
Like them deserve the title too;
_10
Like them ignoble actions scorn:
Let virtue prove you greatly born.
Though with less plate their sideboard shone,
Their conscience always was their own;
They ne'er at levees meanly fawned,
Nor was their honour yearly pawned;
Their hands, by no corruption stained,
The ministerial bribe disdained;
They served the crown with loyal zeal;
Yet, jealous of the public weal,
_20
They stood the bulwark of our laws,
And wore at heart their country's cause;
By neither place or pension bought,
They spoke and voted as they thought.
Thus did your sires adorn their seat;
And such alone are truly great.
If you the paths of learning slight,
You're but a dunce in stronger light;
In foremost rank the coward placed,
Is more conspicuously disgraced.
_30
If you to serve a paltry end,
To knavish jobs can condescend,
We pay you the contempt that's due;
In that you have precedence too.
Whence had you this illustrious name?
From virtue and unblemished fame.
By birth the name alone descends;
Your honour on yourself depends:
Think not your coronet can hide
Assuming ignorance and pride.
_40
Learning by study must be won,
'Twas ne'er entailed from son to son.
Superior worth your rank requires;
For that mankind reveres your sires;
If you degenerate from your race,
Their merits heighten your disgrace.
A carrier, every night and morn,
Would see his horses eat their corn:
This sunk the hostler's vails, 'tis true;
But then his horses had their due.
_50
Were we so cautious in all cases,
Small gain would rise from greater places.
The manger now had all its measure;
He heard the grinding teeth with pleasure;
When all at once confusion rung;
They snorted, jostled, bit, and flung:
A pack-horse turned his head aside,
Foaming, his eye-balls swelled with pride.
'Good gods!' says he, 'how hard's my lot!
Is then my high descent forgot?
_60
Reduced to drudgery and disgrace,
(A life unworthy of my race,)
Must I too bear the vile attacks
Of rugged scrubs, and vulgar hacks?
See scurvy Roan, that brute ill-bred,
Dares from the manger thrust my head!
Shall I, who boast a noble line,
On offals of these creatures dine?
Kicked by old Ball! so mean a foe!
My honour suffers by the blow.
_70
Newmarket speaks my grandsire's fame,
All jockies still revere his name:
There yearly are his triumphs told,
There all his massy plates enrolled.
Whene'er led forth upon the plain,
You saw him with a livery train;
Returning too with laurels crowned,
You heard the drums and trumpets sound.
Let it then, sir, be understood,
Respect's my due; for I have blood.'
_80
'Vain-glorious fool!' the carrier cried,
'Respect was never paid to pride.
Know, 'twas thy giddy wilful heart
Reduced thee to this slavish part.
Did not thy headstrong youth disdain
To learn the conduct of the rein?
Thus coxcombs, blind to real merit,
In vicious frolics fancy spirit.
What is't to me by whom begot?
Thou restive, pert, conceited sot.
_90
Your sires I reverence; 'tis their due:
But, worthless fool, what's that to you?
Ask all the carriers on the road,
They'll say thy keeping's ill bestowed.
Then vaunt no more thy noble race,
That neither mends thy strength or pace.
What profits me thy boast of blood?
An ass hath more intrinsic good.
By outward show let's not be cheated;
An ass should like an ass be treated.'
_100
* * * * *
FABLE XII.
PAN AND FORTUNE.
TO A YOUNG HEIR.
Soon as your father's death was known,
(As if the estate had been their own)
The gamesters outwardly express'd
The decent joy within your breast.
So lavish in your praise they grew,
As spoke their certain hopes in you.
One counts your income of the year,
How much in ready money clear.
'No house,' says he, 'is more complete;
The garden's elegant and great.
_10
How fine the park around it lies!
The timber's of a noble size!
Then count his jewels and his plate.
Besides, 'tis no entailed estate.
If cash run low, his lands in fee
Are, or for sale, or mortgage free.'
Thus they, before you threw the main,
Seem to anticipate their gain.
Would you, when thieves were known abroad,
Bring forth your treasures in the road?
_20
Would not the fool abet the stealth,
Who rashly thus exposed his wealth?
Yet this you do, whene'er you play
Among the gentlemen of prey.
Could fools to keep their own contrive,
On what, on whom could gamesters thrive?
Is it in charity you game,
To save your worthy gang from shame?
Unless you furnished daily bread,
Which way could idleness be fed?
_30
Could these professors of deceit
Within the law no longer cheat,
They must run bolder risks for prey,
And strip the traveller on the way.
Thus in your annual rents they share,
And 'scape the noose from year to year.
Consider, ere you make the bet,
That sum might cross your tailor's debt.
When you the pilfering rattle shake,
Is not your honour too at stake?
_40
Must you not by mean lies evade
To-morrow's duns from every trade?
By promises so often paid,
Is yet your tailor's bill defrayed?
Must you not pitifully fawn,
To have your butcher's writ withdrawn?
This must be done. In debts of play
Your honour suffers no delay:
And not this year's and next year's rent
The sons of rapine can content.
_50
Look round. The wrecks of play behold,
Estates dismembered, mortgaged, sold!
Their owners, not to jails confined,
Show equal poverty of mind.
Some, who the spoil of knaves were made,
Too late attempt to learn their trade.
Some, for the folly of one hour,
Become the dirty tools of power,
And, with the mercenary list,
Upon court-charity subsist.
_60
You'll find at last this maxim true,
Fools are the game which knaves pursue.
The forest (a whole century's shade)
Must be one wasteful ruin made.
No mercy's shewn to age or kind;
The general massacre is signed.
The park too shares the dreadful fate,
For duns grow louder at the gate,
Stern clowns, obedient to the squire,
(What will not barbarous hands for hire?)
_70
With brawny arms repeat the stroke.
Fallen are the elm and reverend oak.
Through the long wood loud axes sound,
And echo groans with every wound.
To see the desolation spread,
Pan drops a tear, and hangs his head:
His bosom now with fury burns:
Beneath his hoof the dice he spurns.
Cards, too, in peevish passion torn,
The sport of whirling winds are borne.
_80
'To snails inveterate hate I bear,
Who spoil the verdure of the year;
The caterpillar I detest,
The blooming spring's voracious pest;
The locust too, whose ravenous band
Spreads sudden famine o'er the land.
But what are these? The dice's throw
At once hath laid a forest low.
The cards are dealt, the bet is made,
And the wide park hath lost its shade.
_90
Thus is my kingdom's pride defaced,
And all its ancient glories waste.
All this,' he cries, 'is Fortune's doing:
'Tis thus she meditates my ruin.
By Fortune, that false, fickle jade,
More havoc in one hour is made,
Than all the hungry insect race,
Combined, can in an age deface.'
Fortune, by chance, who near him pass'd,
O'erheard the vile aspersion cast.
_100
'Why, Pan,' says she, 'what's all this rant?
'Tis every country-bubble's cant;
Am I the patroness of vice?
Is't I who cog or palm the dice?
Did I the shuffling art reveal, 105
To mark the cards, or range the deal?
In all the employments men pursue,
I mind the least what gamesters do.
There may (if computation's just)
One now and then my conduct trust:
_110
I blame the fool, for what can I,
When ninety-nine my power defy?
These trust alone their fingers' ends,
And not one stake on me depends.
Whene'er the gaming board is set,
Two classes of mankind are met:
But if we count the greedy race,
The knaves fill up the greater space.
'Tis a gross error, held in schools,
That Fortune always favours fools.
_120
In play it never bears dispute;
That doctrine these felled oaks confute.
Then why to me such rancour show?
'Tis folly, Pan, that is thy foe.
By me his late estate he won,
But he by folly was undone.'
* * * * *
FABLE XIII.
PLUTUS, CUPID, AND TIME.
Of all the burdens man must bear,
Time seems most galling and severe:
Beneath this grievous load oppressed,
We daily meet some friend distressed.
'What can one do? I rose at nine.
'Tis full six hours before we dine:
Six hours! no earthly thing to do!
Would I had dozed in bed till two.'
A pamphlet is before him spread,
And almost half a page is read;
_10
Tired with the study of the day,
The fluttering sheets are tossed away.
He opes his snuff-box, hums an air,
Then yawns, and stretches in his chair.
'Not twenty, by the minute hand!
Good gods:' says he, 'my watch must stand!
How muddling 'tis on books to pore!
I thought I'd read an hour or more,
The morning, of all hours, I hate.
One can't contrive to rise too late.'
_20
To make the minutes faster run,
Then too his tiresome self to shun,
To the next coffee-house he speeds,
Takes up the news, some scraps he reads.
Sauntering, from chair to chair he trails;
Now drinks his tea, now bites his nails.
He spies a partner of his woe;
By chat afflictions lighter grow;
Each other's grievances they share,
And thus their dreadful hours compare.
_30
Says Tom, 'Since all men must confess,
That time lies heavy more or less;
Why should it be so hard to get
Till two, a party at piquet?
Play might relieve the lagging morn:
By cards long wintry nights are borne:
Does not quadrille amuse the fair,
Night after night, throughout the year?
Vapours and spleen forgot, at play
They cheat uncounted hours away.'
_40
'My case,' says Will, 'then must be hard
By want of skill from play debarred.
Courtiers kill time by various ways;
Dependence wears out half their days.
How happy these, whose time ne'er stands!
Attendance takes it off their hands.
Were it not for this cursed shower
The park had whiled away an hour.
At Court, without or place or view,
I daily lose an hour or two;
_50
It fully answers my design,
When I have picked up friends to dine,
The tavern makes our burden light;
Wine puts our time and care to flight.
At six (hard case!) they call to pay.
Where can one go? I hate the play.
From six till ten! Unless in sleep,
One cannot spend the hours so cheap.
The comedy's no sooner done,
But some assembly is begun;
_60
Loit'ring from room to room I stray;
Converse, but nothing hear or say:
Quite tired, from fair to fair I roam.
So soon: I dread the thoughts of home.
From thence, to quicken slow-paced night,
Again my tavern-friends invite:
Here too our early mornings pass,
Till drowsy sleep retards the glass.'
Thus they their wretched life bemoan,
And make each other's case their own.
_70
Consider, friends, no hour rolls on,
But something of your grief is gone.
Were you to schemes of business bred,
Did you the paths of learning tread.
Your hours, your days, would fly too fast;
You'd then regret the minute past,
Time's fugitive and light as wind!
'Tis indolence that clogs your mind!
That load from off your spirits shake;
You'll own and grieve for your mistake;
_80
A while your thoughtless spleen suspend,
Then read, and (if you can) attend.
As Plutus, to divert his care,
Walked forth one morn to take the air,
Cupid o'ertook his strutting pace,
Each stared upon the stranger's face,
Till recollection set them right;
For each knew t'other but by sight.
After some complimental talk,
Time met them, bowed, and joined their walk.
_90
Their chat on various subjects ran,
But most, what each had done for man.
Plutus assumes a haughty air,
Just like our purse-proud fellows here.
'Let kings,' says he, 'let cobblers tell,
Whose gifts among mankind excel.
Consider Courts: what draws their train?
Think you 'tis loyalty or gain?
That statesman hath the strongest hold,
Whose tool of politics is gold.
_100
By that, in former reigns, 'tis said,
The knave in power hath senates led.
By that alone he swayed debates,
Enriched himself and beggared states.
Forego your boast. You must conclude,
That's most esteemed that's most pursued.
Think too, in what a woful plight
That wretch must live whose pocket's light.
Are not his hours by want depress'd?
Penurious care corrodes his breast.
_110
Without respect, or love, or friends,
His solitary day descends.'
'You might,' says Cupid, 'doubt my parts,
My knowledge too in human hearts,
Should I the power of gold dispute,
Which great examples might confute.
I know, when nothing else prevails,
Persuasive money seldom fails;
That beauty too (like other wares)
Its price, as well as conscience, bears.
_120
Then marriage (as of late profess'd)
Is but a money-job at best.
Consent, compliance may be sold:
But love's beyond the price of gold.
Smugglers there are, who by retail,
Expose what they call love, to sale,
Such bargains are an arrant cheat:
You purchase flattery and deceit.
Those who true love have ever tried,
(The common cares of life supplied,)
_130
No wants endure, no wishes make,
But every real joy partake,
All comfort on themselves depends;
They want nor power, nor wealth, nor friends.
Love then hath every bliss in store:
'Tis friendship, and 'tis something more.
Each other every wish they give,
Not to know love, is not to live.'
'Or love, or money,' Time replied,
'Were men the question to decide,
_140
Would bear the prize: on both intent,
My boon's neglected or misspent.
'Tis I who measure vital space,
And deal out years to human race.
Though little prized, and seldom sought,
Without me love and gold are nought.
How does the miser time employ?
Did I e'er see him life enjoy?
By me forsook, the hoards he won,
Are scattered by his lavish son.
_150
By me all useful arts are gained;
Wealth, learning, wisdom is attained.
Who then would think (since such, my power)
That e'er I knew an idle hour?
So subtle and so swift I fly,
Love's not more fugitive than I.
Who hath not heard coquettes complain
Of days, months, years, misspent in vain?
For time misused they pine and waste,
And love's sweet pleasures never taste.
_160
Those who direct their time aright,
If love or wealth their hopes excite,
In each pursuit fit hours employed,
And both by Time have been enjoyed.
How heedless then are mortals grown!
How little is their interest known?
In every view they ought to mind me;
For when once lost they never find me.'
He spoke. The gods no more contest,
And his superior gift confess'd;
_170
That time when (truly understood)
Is the most precious earthly good.
* * * * *
FABLE XIV.
THE OWL, THE SWAN, THE COCK, THE SPIDER, THE ASS, AND THE FARMER.
TO A MOTHER.
Conversing with your sprightly boys,
Your eyes have spoke the mother's joys.
With what delight I've heard you quote
Their sayings in imperfect note!
I grant, in body and in mind,
Nature appears profusely kind.
Trust not to that. Act you your part;
Imprint just morals on their heart,
Impartially their talents scan:
Just education forms the man.
_10
Perhaps (their genius yet unknown)
Each lot of life's already thrown;
That this shall plead, the next shall fight,
The last assert the church's right.
I censure not the fond intent;
But how precarious is the event!
By talents misapplied and cross'd,
Consider, all your sons are lost.
One day (the tale's by Martial penned)
A father thus addressed his friend:
_20
'To train my boy, and call forth sense,
You know I've stuck at no expense;
I've tried him in the several arts,
(The lad no doubt hath latent parts,)
Yet trying all, he nothing knows;
But, crab-like, rather backward goes.
Teach me what yet remains undone;
'Tis your advice shall fix my son.'
'Sir,' says the friend, 'I've weighed the matter;
Excuse me, for I scorn to flatter:
_30
Make him (nor think his genius checked)
A herald or an architect.'
Perhaps (as commonly 'tis known)
He heard the advice, and took his own.
The boy wants wit; he's sent to school,
Where learning but improves the fool:
The college next must give him parts,
And cram him with the liberal arts.
Whether he blunders at the bar,
Or owes his infamy to war;
_40
Or if by licence or degree
The sexton shares the doctor's fee:
Or from the pulpit by the hour
He weekly floods of nonsense pour;
We find (the intent of nature foiled)
A tailor or a butcher spoiled.
Thus ministers have royal boons
Conferred on blockheads and buffoons:
In spite of nature, merit, wit,
Their friends for every post were fit.
_50
But now let every Muse confess
That merit finds its due success.
The examples of our days regard;
Where's virtue seen without reward?
Distinguished and in place you find
Desert and worth of every kind.
Survey the reverend bench, and see,
Religion, learning, piety:
The patron, ere he recommends,
Sees his own image in his friends.
_60
Is honesty disgraced and poor?
What is't to us what was before?
We all of times corrupt have heard,
When paltry minions were preferred;
When all great offices by dozens,
Were filled by brothers, sons, and cousins.
What matter ignorance and pride?
The man was happily allied.
Provided that his clerk was good,
What though he nothing understood?
_70
In church and state, the sorry race
Grew more conspicuous fools in place.
Such heads, as then a treaty made,
Had bungled in the cobbler's trade.
Consider, patrons, that such elves,
Expose your folly with themselves.
'Tis yours, as 'tis the parent's care,
To fix each genius in its sphere.
Your partial hand can wealth dispense,
But never give a blockhead sense.
_80
An owl of magisterial air,
Of solemn voice, of brow austere,
Assumed the pride of human race,
And bore his wisdom in his face;
Not to depreciate learned eyes,
I've seen a pedant look as wise.
Within a barn, from noise retired,
He scorned the world, himself admired;
And, like an ancient sage, concealed
The follies public life revealed.
_90
Philosophers of old, he read,
Their country's youth to science bred,
Their manners formed for every station,
And destined each his occupation.
When Xenophon, by numbers braved,
Retreated, and a people saved,
That laurel was not all his own;
The plant by Socrates was sown;
To Aristotle's greater name
The Macedonian[10] owed his fame.
_100
The Athenian bird, with pride replete,
Their talents equalled in conceit;
And, copying the Socratic rule,
Set up for master of a school.
Dogmatic jargon learnt by heart,
Trite sentences, hard terms of art,
To vulgar ears seemed so profound,
They fancied learning in the sound.
The school had fame: the crowded place
With pupils swarmed of every race.
_110
With these the swan's maternal care
Had sent her scarce-fledged cygnet heir:
The hen (though fond and loath to part)
Here lodged the darling of her heart:
The spider, of mechanic kind,
Aspired to science more refined:
The ass learnt metaphors and tropes,
But most on music fixed his hopes.
The pupils now advanced in age,
Were called to tread life's busy stage.
_120
And to the master 'twas submitted,
That each might to his part be fitted.
'The swan,' says he, 'in arms shall shine:
The soldier's glorious toil be thine.
The cock shall mighty wealth attain:
Go, seek it on the stormy main.
The Court shall be the spider's sphere:
Power, fortune, shall reward him there.
In music's art the ass's fame
Shall emulate Corelli's[1] name.
_130
Each took the part that he advised,
And all were equally despised;
A farmer, at his folly moved,
The dull preceptor thus reproved:
'Blockhead,' says he, 'by what you've done,
One would have thought 'em each your son:
For parents, to their offspring blind,
Consult, nor parts, nor turn of mind;
But even in infancy decree
What this, what t'other son should be.
_140
Had you with judgment weighed the case,
Their genius thus had fixed their place:
The swan had learnt the sailor's art;
The cock had played the soldier's part;
The spider in the weaver's trade
With credit had a fortune made;
But for the fool, in every class
The blockhead had appeared an ass.'
* * * * *
FABLE XV.
THE COOK-MAID, THE TURNSPIT, AND THE OX.
TO A POOR MAN.
Consider man in every sphere,
Then tell me is your lot severe?
'Tis murmur, discontent, distrust,
That makes you wretched. God is just.
I grant, that hunger must be fed,
That toil too earns thy daily bread.
What then? Thy wants are seen and known,
But every mortal feels his own.
We're born a restless, needy crew:
Show me the happier man than you.
_10
Adam, though blest above his kind,
For want of social woman pined,
Eve's wants the subtle serpent saw,
Her fickle taste transgressed the law:
Thus fell our sires; and their disgrace
The curse entailed on human race.
When Philip's son, by glory led,
Had o'er the globe his empire spread;
When altars to his name were dressed,
That he was man, his tears confessed.
_20
The hopes of avarice are check'd:
The proud man always wants respect.
What various wants on power attend!
Ambition never gains its end.
Who hath not heard the rich complain
Of surfeits and corporeal pain?
He, barred from every use of wealth,
Envies the ploughman's strength and health.
Another in a beauteous wife
Finds all the miseries of life:
_30
Domestic jars and jealous fear
Embitter all his days with care.
This wants an heir, the line is lost:
Why was that vain entail engross'd?
Canst thou discern another's mind?
Why is't you envy? Envy's blind.
Tell Envy, when she would annoy,
That thousands want what you enjoy.
'The dinner must be dished at one.
Where's this vexatious turnspit gone?
_40
Unless the skulking cur is caught,
The sirloin's spoiled, and I'm in fault.'
Thus said: (for sure you'll think it fit
That I the cook-maid's oaths omit)
With all the fury of a cook,
Her cooler kitchen Nan forsook.
The broomstick o'er her head she waves;
She sweats, she stamps, she puffs, she raves.
The sneaking cur before her flies:
She whistles, calls; fair speech she tries.
_50
These nought avail. Her choler burns;
The fist and cudgel threat by turns;
With hasty stride she presses near;
He slinks aloof, and howls with fear.
'Was ever cur so cursed!' he cried,
'What star did at my birth preside?
Am I for life by compact bound
To tread the wheel's eternal round?
Inglorious task! Of all our race
No slave is half so mean and base.
_60
Had fate a kinder lot assigned,
And formed me of the lap-dog kind,
I then, in higher life employed,
Had indolence and ease enjoyed;
And, like a gentleman, caress'd,
Had been the lady's favourite guest.
Or were I sprung from spaniel line,
Was his sagacious nostril mine,
By me, their never-erring guide,
From wood and plain their feasts supplied
_70
Knights, squires, attendant on my pace,
Had shared the pleasures of the chase.
Endued with native strength and fire,
Why called I not the lion sire?
A lion! such mean views I scorn.
Why was I not of woman born?
Who dares with reason's power contend?
On man we brutal slaves depend:
To him all creatures tribute pays,
And luxury employs his days.'
_80
An ox by chance o'erheard his moan,
And thus rebuked the lazy drone:
'Dare you at partial fate repine?
How kind's your lot compared with mine!
Decreed to toil, the barbarous knife
Hath severed me from social life;
Urged by the stimulating goad,
I drag the cumbrous waggon's load:
'Tis mine to tame the stubborn plain,
Break the stiff soil, and house the grain;
_90
Yet I without a murmur bear
The various labours of the year.
But then consider, that one day,
(Perhaps the hour's not far away,)
You, by the duties of your post,
Shall turn the spit when I'm the roast:
And for reward shall share the feast;
I mean, shall pick my bones at least.'
''Till now,' the astonished cur replies,
'I looked on all with envious eyes.
_100
How false we judge by what appears!
All creatures feel their several cares.
If thus yon mighty beast complains,
Perhaps man knows superior pains.
Let envy then no more torment:
Think on the ox, and learn content.'
Thus said: close following at her heel,
With cheerful heart he mounts the wheel.