Said Reynard: "'Tis a cruel case
That man will stigmatize my race:
Ah! there are rogues midst men and foxes—
You see that where the parish stocks is.
Still there are honest men and true—
So are there honest foxes too.
You see and know I've no disguise,
And that, like life, I honour prize."
The honest dog threw off distrust,
For talk like that seemed good and just.
On as they went one day with chatter
Of honour and such moral matter,
They heard a tramp. "Are hounds abroad?
I heard a clatter on the road."
"Nay," said the dog: "'tis market-day,
Dame Dobbin now is on her way.
That foot is Dun's, the pyebald mare:
They go to sell their poultry ware."
"Their poultry ware! Why poultry me?
Sir, your remark is very free.
Do I know your Dame Dobbin's farm?
Did I e'er do her hen-roost harm?"
"Why, my good friend, I never meant
To give your spirit discontent.
No lamb—for aught I ever knew—
Could be more innocent than you."
"What do you mean by such a flam?
Why do you talk to me of lamb?
They lost three lambs: you say that I—
I robbed the fold;—you dog, you lie!"
"Knave," said the dog, "your conscience tweaks:
It is the guilty soul that speaks."
So saying, on the fox he flies,
The self-convicted felon dies.
FABLE LII.
Vulture, Sparrow, and Birds.
Ere I begin I must premise
Our ministers are good and wise:
Therefore if tongues malicious fly,
Or what care they, or what care I?