The Moral.
At Lyons Courts, in case of Treason,
I rather trust my Heels, than Reason.
The Rat and the Frog.
A Graceless Rat, in special case,
Kept neither Lent nor Holidays;
But lov'd his Gut beyond his Soul,
And look'd as slick as any Mole:
Who one day having time to spare,
Went to the Marshes for some Air;
There meets a Frog, not over fat,
Who says, your Servant Mr. Rat;
And seemingly with much good Nature,
Invites the Stranger o'er the Water:
Says he, I live in yonder Fens,
Go with me I'll treat you like a Prince.
The Rat who had a mind before
To ramble, need t've heard no more;
But yet the Frog made a whole Lecture
On Country Bagnios, and their Structure,
The Voyage, and the Recreation
He'd find in his amphibious Nation;
Their Manners, and a hundred things,
Of which in Winter Evenings,
He'd tell fine Stories ten Years after,
By Fire sides in Praise of Water:
And, since he always liv'd a Shore,
There's nothing could refresh him more.
These Reasons pleas'd his Ratship so,
That he was raving mad to go.
But as your pamper'd Folks are fearful,
He said, one cannot be too careful;
'Tis true I swim, but not like you,
And Cramps, or other things, you know,
Might happen: If I could but have
Some small Assistance.——Says the Knave,
Prithee be quiet, to prevent
All harm, I've an expedient,
That has a thousand times been tried.
Then took a bit of Rush and tied
One of the Fore feet of the Rat
To his Hind leg, and out they set.
But O thou wicked World! how evil
Are all our Hearts! this croaking Devil
Swum to the deep; where, when he got him,
He strove to pull him to the bottom;
And thought it was a lucky hit,
To meet with such a dainty bit;
Good wholesome Meat, and so went on.
The Rat, who felt he was undone,
Cry'd out, and foul'd himself for fear, }
And, tho' sometimes in half a Year, }
The Varlet never said a Prayer; }
Yet (as the Proverb tells us, he
That cannot pray, must go to Sea.)
So now, with all the Sugar Words,
A frighted Coward's Heart affords;
He call'd the Gods, and coax'd the Frog;
But, No: That false hard-hearted Dog
Is deaf to all his Protestations,
And violates the Law of Nations.
One lugs and labours like a Horse,
Th' other resists with all his Force.
The Frog's for going down; the Rat,
If 't pleased the Gods, would rather not.
And, whilst they're struggling different ways,
A Kite, that hover'd o'er the Place,
Saw what our Gentry was about,
Would fain have seen the Battle out;
If 't had been safe; but being loth
To lose his Stomack, took 'em both:
And, doubly blessed beyond his wish,
Supp'd like a Lord, on Flesh and Fish.
The Moral.
He, that's entangled in a Plot,
For want of Strength, is often caught:
And in his Practices detected
By Accidents, he ne'er suspected.
What cares a Frog for Kites, in Water?
But Villany rewards its Author.
The Cat and an old Rat.
I've heard, and if it be a Lie,
You have it e'en as cheap as I;
That a huge Cat of mighty Name,
A second Rodilard for Fame,
The Alexander of the Cats;
An Attila, a scourge to Rats,
Had brought such horrid devastation,
And Mischief on the latter Nation;
'Twas thought he would depopulate
The World, and swallow every Rat.
The long Tailed Gentry, far and near,
Are all possess'd with so much fear,
That there's not one in six Miles round,
That dares to venture above ground;
Their bloody minded Enemy
Is sorry, that they're grown so shy.
In vain he watch'd, and lurk'd about,
The De'l a bit as one came out.
Says he, the Scoundrels are alive,
I hear 'em stir, and must contrive
To draw 'em out; for, where they dwell,
I'm sure, they're uncomatable.
At that he gets upon a Shelf,
And to a String he hangs himself
By one Foot, dangling with his Head
Downward, as if he had been dead.
The Rats all thought, he had been taken
At stealing Cheese, or gnawing Bacon;
Perhaps he might have foul'd the Bed,
Murder'd a Bird; or, that he had
Committed any other Evil,
By instigation of the Devil,
Or his own more malicious Nature;
For which they'd hang'd the wicked Creature.
The Prisoners, who wanted Bread
Thank'd Heaven, and were very glad.
They show their Snouts, and now begin
To peep out and pop back again;
Till growing bold they leave their home,
And scamper up and down the Room.
Down comes the treacherous Malefactor,
Who rais'd to Life without a Doctor.
Fell with such rage about their House
Each Blow kill'd either Rat or Mouse;
Some made Resistance, but in vain,
The Ground is cover'd with the slain,
Such Execution did his Claw,
But when the cunning Warrior saw,
The nimble ones go off in Sholes,
And get within their crooked Holes,
He call'd to 'em, for all your haste,
I know, you'll come to me at last.
This trick you never knew before,
But I can shew you hundred more.
He'd kill'd enough to live upon
Some few Days; but when that was gone,
He kept his Word, and wheedled 'em
With quite another Stratagem.
He jump'd into a Tub of Flower,
And there stood powd'ring half an hour,
'Till thinking he was dawbd enough,
He walks into an open trough
Where lying snug as white as Snow,
And roul'd up like a piece of Dough,
He waits the Starvlings coming to'm,
And now and then he pick'd up some.
But an old Rat, who full of Scars,
Had lost his Tail in former Wars;
Standing at th' Entrance of the Cave,
Call'd to our Cat. You, Mr. Knave,
Your Hanging or your Flower won't do,
I know your Tricks as well as you.
You was a Cat, and are so still:
Change to what form or shape you will:
Nay be a Log, I wont come nigh't.
Says th' other, Faith he's in the right.
And wisely knows, distrust to be
The Mother of Security.