* * * * *
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.'
* * * * *