"Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame If men in morals are the same?

I no man call or ape or a.s.s; 'Tis his own conscience holds the gla.s.s.

Thus void of all offence I write; Who claims the fable, knows his right."

JOHN GAY

FABLES OF GAY AND COWPER

The Monkey Who Had Seen the World

A Monkey, to reform the times, Resolved to visit foreign climes; For men in distant regions roam, To bring politer manners home.

So forth he fares, all toil defies; Misfortune serves to make us wise.

At length the treacherous snare was laid; Poor Pug was caught, to town conveyed; There sold. How envied was his doom, Made captive in a lady's room!

Proud as a lover of his chains, He day by day her favour gains.

Whene'er the duty of the day The toilette calls, with mimic play He twirls her knot, he cracks her fan, Like any other gentleman.

In visits, too, his parts and wit, When jests grew dull, were sure to hit.

Proud with applause, he thought his mind In every courtly art refined; Like Orpheus, burned with public zeal To civilize the monkey weal: So watched occasion, broke his chain, And sought his native woods again.

The hairy sylvans round him press Astonished at his strut and dress.

Some praise his sleeve, and others gloat Upon his rich embroidered coat; His dapper periwig commending, With the black tail behind depending; His powdered back above, below, Like h.o.a.ry frost or fleecy snow: But all, with envy and desire, His fluttering shoulder-knot admire.

"Hear and improve," he pertly cries, "I come to make a nation wise.

Weigh your own worth, support your place, The next in rank to human race.

In cities long I pa.s.sed my days, Conversed with men, and learned their ways, Their dress, their courtly manners see; Reform your state, and copy me.

Seek ye to thrive? in flatt'ry deal; Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.

Seem only to regard your friends, But use them for your private ends.

Stint not to truth the flow of wit; Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit.

Bend all your force to spatter merit; Scandal is conversation's spirit.

Boldly to everything pretend, And men your talents shall commend.

I know the Great. Observe me right, So shall you grow like man polite."

He spoke and bowed. With mutt'ring jaws The wond'ring circle grinned applause.

Now, warmed with malice, envy, spite, Their most obliging friends they bite; And, fond to copy human ways, Practise new mischiefs all their days.

Thus the dull lad, too tall for school.

With travel finishes the fool: Studious of every c.o.xcomb's airs, He gambles, dresses, drinks, and swears; O'er looks with scorn all virtuous arts, For vice is fitted to his parts.

JOHN GAY

The Shepherd's Dog and the Wolf

A Wolf, with hunger fierce and bold, Ravag'd the plains, and thinn'd the fold: Deep in the wood secure he lay, The thefts of night regal'd the day.

In vain the shepherd's wakeful care Had spread the toils, and watch'd the snare; In vain the Dog pursued his pace, The fleeter robber mock'd the chase.

As Lightfoot rang'd the forest round, By chance his foe's retreat he found.

"Let us a while the war suspend, And reason as from friend to friend."

"A truce?" replies the Wolf. "'Tis done."

The Dog the parley thus begun.

"How can that strong intrepid mind Attack a weak defenceless kind?

Those jaws should prey on n.o.bler food, And drink the boar's and lion's blood, Great souls with generous pity melt, Which coward tyrants never felt.

How harmless is our fleecy care!

Be brave, and let thy mercy spare."

"Friend," says the Wolf, "the matter weigh; Nature designed us beasts of prey; As such, when hunger finds a treat, 'Tis necessary Wolves should eat.

If mindful of the bleating weal, Thy bosom burn with real zeal, Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech; To him repeat the moving speech: A Wolf eats sheep but now and then; Ten thousands are devoured by men.

An open foe may prove a curse, But a pretended friend is worse."

JOHN GAY

The Rat-catcher and Cats

The rats by night such mischief did, Betty was ev'ry morning chid.

They undermin'd whole sides of bacon, Her cheese was sapp'd, her tarts were taken.

Her pasties, fenc'd with thickest paste, Were all demolish'd, and laid waste.

She curs'd the cat for want of duty, Who left her foes a constant booty.

An Engineer, of noted skill, Engag'd to stop the growing ill.

From room to room he now surveys Their haunts, their works, their secret ways; Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade.

And whence the nightly sally's made.

An envious Cat from place to place, Unseen, attends his silent pace.

She saw, that if his trade went on, The purring race must be undone; So, secretly removes his baits, And ev'ry stratagem defeats.

Again he sets the poisoned toils, And Puss again the labour foils.

"What foe, to frustrate my designs, My schemes thus nightly countermines?"

Incens'd, he cries: "This very hour This wretch shall bleed beneath my power."

So said, a ponderous trap he brought, And in the fact poor Puss was caught.

"Smuggler," says he, "thou shalt be made A victim to our loss of trade."

The captive Cat, with piteous mews, For pardon, life, and freedom sues.

"A sister of the science spare; One int'rest is our common care."

"What insolence!" the man replies; "Shall Cats with us the game divide?

Were all your interloping band Extinguished, or expell'd the land, We Rat-catchers might raise our fees.

Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!"

A Cat, who saw the lifted knife, Thus spoke and sav'd her sister's life.

"In ev'ry age and clime we see Two of a trade can ne'er agree.

Each hates his neighbour for encroaching; 'Squire stigmatizes 'squire for poaching; Beauties with beauties are in arms.

And scandal pelts each other's charms; Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone, In hope to make the world their own.

But let us limit our desires; Not war like beauties, kings, and 'squires!

For though we both one prey pursue, There's game enough for us and you."

JOHN GAY

The Farmer's Wife and the Raven

Between her swaggering pannier's load A Farmer's Wife to market rode, And jogging on, with thoughtful care, Summed up the profits of her ware; When, starting from her silver dream, Thus far and wide was heard her scream: "That Raven on yon left-hand oak (Curse on his ill-betiding croak) Bodes me no good." No more she said, When poor blind Ball, with stumbling head, Fell p.r.o.ne; o'erturned the panniers lay, And her mashed eggs bestrewed the way.

She, sprawling on the yellow road, Railed, cursed, and swore: "Thou croaking toad, A murrain take thy noisy throat!

I knew misfortune in the note."

"Dame," quoth the Raven, "spare your oaths, Unclench your fist and wipe your clothes.

But why on me those curses thrown?

Goody, the fault was all your own; For had you laid this brittle ware On Dun, the old sure-footed mare, Though all the Ravens of the hundred With croaking had your tongue out-thundered, Sure-footed Dun had kept her legs, And you, good woman, saved your eggs."

JOHN GAY