The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase - Part 29
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Part 29

'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 grat.i.tude 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 G.o.d defend us, We're not so good but He can mend us) When wicked ministers have trod On kings and people, law and G.o.d; 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 l.u.s.t, 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, (G.o.d 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 t.i.tle 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 c.o.c.ks attends him, As bl.u.s.tering 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 n.o.ble 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 prost.i.tutes, 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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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 a.s.signed 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, a.s.sume a ministerial pride.

The morning rose. In hope of picking, Swans, turkeys, peac.o.c.ks, 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.