For that brief style which some offends.

XI. THE COCK AND THE PEARL.

  A Cock, while scratching all around,
  A Pearl upon the dunghill found:
    “O splendid thing in foul disgrace,
  Had there been any in the place
  That saw and knew thy worth when sold,
  Ere this thou hadst been set in gold.
  But I, who rather would have got
  A corn of barley, heed thee not;
  No service can there render’d be
  From me to you, and you to me.”
    I write this tale to them alone
  To whom in vain my pearls are thrown.

XII. THE BEES AND THE DRONES.

  Up in a lofty oak the Bees
  Had made their honey-combs: but these
  The Drones asserted they had wrought.
  Then to the bar the cause was brought
  Before the wasp, a learned chief,
  Who well might argue either brief,
  As of a middle nature made.
  He therefore to both parties said:
  “You’re not dissimilar in size,
  And each with each your color vies,
  That there’s a doubt concerning both:
  But, lest I err, upon my oath,
  Hives for yourselves directly choose,
  And in the wax the work infuse,
  That, from the flavor and the form,
  We may point out the genuine swarm.”
  The Drones refuse, the Bees agree--
  Then thus did Justice Wasp decree:
  “Who can, and who cannot, is plain,
  So take, ye Bees, your combs again.”
    This narrative had been suppress’d
  Had not the Drones refused the test.

XIII. ESOP PLAYING.

  As Esop was with boys at play,
  And had his nuts as well as they,
  A grave Athenian, passing by,
  Cast on the sage a scornful eye,
  As on a dotard quite bereaved:
  Which, when the moralist perceived,
  (Rather himself a wit profess’d
  Than the poor subject of a jest)
  Into the public way he flung
  A bow that he had just unstrung:
  “There solve, thou conjurer,” he cries,
  “The problem, that before thee lies.”
  The people throng; he racks his brain,
  Nor can the thing enjoin’d explain.
  At last he gives it up--the seer
  Thus then in triumph made it clear:
  “As the tough bow exerts its spring,
  A constant tension breaks the string;
  But if ’tis let at seasons loose,
  You may depend upon its use.”
    Thus recreative sports and play
  Are good upon a holiday,
  And with more spirit they’ll pursue
  The studies which they shall renew.

XIV. THE DOG AND THE LAMB.

  A Dog bespoke a sucking Lamb,
  That used a she-goat as her dam,
  “You little fool, why, how you baa!
  This goat is not your own mamma:”
  Then pointed to a distant mead,
  Where several sheep were put to feed.
  “I ask not,” says the Lamb, “for her
  Who had me first at Nature’s spur,
  And bore me for a time about,
  Then, like a fardel, threw me out;
  But her that is content to bilk
  Her own dear kids, to give me milk.”
  “Yet she that yean’d you sure,” says Tray,
  “Should be preferr’d” --“I tell thee nay--
  Whence could she know that what she hid
  Was black or white?--but grant she did--
  I being thus a male begot
  ’Twas no great favor, since my lot
  Was hour by hour, throughout my life,
  To dread the butcher and his knife.
  Why should I therefore give my voice
  For her who had no pow’r or choice
  In my production, and not cleave
  To her so ready to relieve,
  When she beheld me left alone,
  And has such sweet indulgence shown?”
    Kind deeds parental love proclaim,
  Not mere necessity and name.

XV. THE OWL AND THE GRASSHOPPER.

  Those who will not the forms obey
  To be obliging in their way,
  Must often punishment abide
  For their ill-nature, and their pride.
    A Grasshopper, in rank ill-will,
  Was very loud and very shrill
  Against a sapient Owl’s repose,
  Who was compelled by day to doze
  Within a hollow oak’s retreat,
  As wont by night to quest for meat--
  She is desired to hold her peace.
  But at the word her cries increase;
  Again requested to abate
  Her noise, she’s more importunate.
  The Owl perceiving no redress,
  And that her words were less and less
  Accounted of, no longer pray’d,
  But thus an artifice essay’d:
  “Since ’tis impossible to nod,
  While harping like the Delphian god,
  You charm our ears, stead of a nap,
  A batch of nectar will I tap,
  Which lately from Minerva came;
  Now if you do not scorn the same,
  Together let us bumpers ply.”
  The Grasshopper, extremely dry,
  And, finding she had hit the key
  That gain’d applause, approach’d with glee;
  At which the Owl upon her flew,
  And quick the trembling vixen slew.
    Thus by her death she was adjudged
  To give what in her life she grudged.

XVI. THE TREES PROTECTED.

  The gods took certain trees (th’ affair
  Was some time since) into their care.
  The oak was best approved by Jove,
  The myrtle by the queen of love;
  The god of music and the day
  Vouchsafed to patronise the bay;
  The pine Cybele chanced to please,
  And the tall poplar Hercules.
  Minerva upon this inquired
  Why they all barren trees admired?
  “The cause,” says Jupiter, “is plain,
  Lest we give honour up for gain.”
    “Let every one their fancy suit,
  I choose the olive for its fruit.”
  The sire of gods and men replies,
  “Daughter, thou shalt be reckon’d wise
  By all the world, and justly too;
  For whatsover things we do,
  If not a life of useful days,
  How vain is all pretence to praise!”
    Whate’er experiments you try,
  Have some advantage in your eye.

XVII. JUNO AND THE PEACOCK.

  Her fav’rite bird to Juno came,
  And was in dudgeon at the dame,
  That she had not attuned her throat
  With Philomela’s matchless note;
  “She is the wonder of all ears;
  But when I speak the audience sneers.”
  The goddess to the bird replied,
  (Willing to have him pacified,)
  “You are above the rest endued
  With beauty and with magnitude;
  Your neck the em’rald’s gloss outvies,
  And what a blaze of gemmeous dies
  Shines from the plumage of your tail!”
  “All this dumb show will not avail,”
  Cries he, “if I’m surpass’d in voice.”
  “The fates entirely have the choice
  Of all the lots--fair form is yours;
  The eagle’s strength his prey secures;
  The nightingale can sing an ode;
  The crow and raven may forebode:
  All these in sheer contentment crave
  No other voice than Nature gave.”
    By affectation be not sway’d,
  Where Nature has not lent her aid;
  Nor to that flatt’ring hope attend,
  Which must in disappointment end.

XVIII. ESOP AND THE IMPORTUNATE FELLOW.

  Esop (no other slave at hand)
  Received himself his lord’s command
  An early supper to provide.
  From house to house he therefore tried
  To beg the favor of a light;
  At length he hit upon the right.
  But as when first he sallied out
  He made his tour quite round about,
  On his return he took a race
  Directly, cross the market-place:
  When thus a talkative buffoon,
  “Esop, what means this light at noon?”
  He answer’d briefly, as he ran,
  “Fellow, I’m looking for a man.”
    Now if this jackanapes had weigh’d
  The true intent of what was said,
  He’d found that Esop had no sense
  Of manhood in impertinence.

XIX. THE ASS AND PRIESTS OF CYBELE.

  The luckless wretch that’s born to woe
  Must all his life affliction know--
  And harder still, his cruel fate
  Will on his very ashes wait.
    Cybele’s priests, in quest of bread,
  An Ass about the village led,
  With things for sale from door to door;
  Till work’d and beaten more and more,
  At length, when the poor creature died,
  They made them drums out of his hide.
  Then question’d “how it came to pass
  They thus could serve their darling Ass?”
  The answer was, “He thought of peace
  In death, and that his toils would cease;
  But see his mis’ry knows no bounds,
  Still with our blows his back resounds.”

BOOK IV.

PROLOGUE.

  To you, who’ve graver things bespoke,
  This seems no better than a joke,
  And light for mere amusement made;
  Yet still we drive the scribbling trade,
  And from the pen our pleasure find,
  When we’ve no greater things to mind.
  Yet if you look with care intense,
  These tales your toil shall recompense;
  Appearance is not always true,
  And thousands err by such a view.
  ’Tis a choice spirit that has pried
  Where clean contrivance chose to hide;
  That this is not at random said,
  I shall produce upon this head
  A fable of an arch device,
  About the Weasel and the Mice.

FABLE I. THE WEAZEL AND MICE.

  A Weasel, worn with years, and lame,
  That could not overtake its game,
  Now with the nimble Mice to deal,
  Disguised herself with barley meal;
  Then negligent her limbs she spread
  In a sly nook, and lay for dead.
  A Mouse that thought she there might feed,
  Leapt up, and perish’d in the deed;
  A second in like manner died;
  A third, and sundry more beside:
  Then comes the brindled Mouse, a chap
  That oft escaped both snare and trap,
  And seeing how the trick was played,
  Thus to his crafty foe he said:--
  “So may’st thou prosper day and night,
  As thou art not an errant bite.”

II. THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.

  An hungry Fox with fierce attack
  Sprang on a Vine, but tumbled back,
  Nor could attain the point in view,
  So near the sky the bunches grew.
  As he went off, “They’re scurvy stuff,”
  Says he, “and not half ripe enough--
  And I’ve more rev’rence for my tripes
  Than to torment them with the gripes.”
    For those this tale is very pat
  Who lessen what they can’t come at.

III. THE HORSE AND BOAR.

  A Wild-Boar wallow’d in the flood,
  And troubled all the stream with mud,
  Just where a horse to drink repair’d--
  He therefore having war declared,
  Sought man’s alliance for the fight,
  And bore upon his back the knight;
  Who being skill’d his darts to throw,
  Despatched the Wild-Boar at a blow.
  Then to the steed the victor said,
  “I’m glad you came to me for aid,
  For taught how useful you can be,
  I’ve got at once a spoil and thee.”
  On which the fields he made him quit,
  To feel the spur and champ the bit.
  Then he his sorrow thus express’d:
  “I needs must have my wrongs redress’d,
  And making tyrant man the judge,
  Must all my life become a drudge.”
    This tale the passionate may warn,
  To bear with any kind of scorn;
  And rather all complaint withdraw
  Than either go to war or law.

IV. ESOP AND THE WILL.

  That one man sometimes is more shrewd
  Than a stupendous multitude,
  To after-times I shall rehearse
  In my concise familiar verse.
    A certain man on his decease,
  Left his three girls so much a-piece:
  The first was beautiful and frail,
  With eyes still hunting for the male;
  The second giv’n to spin and card,
  A country housewife working hard;
  The third but very ill to pass,
  A homely slut, that loved her glass.
  The dying man had left his wife
  Executrix, and for her life
  Sole tenant, if she should fulfil
  These strange provisos of his will:
  “That she should give th’ estate in fee
  In equal portions to the three;
  But in such sort, that this bequest
  Should not be holden or possess’d;
  Then soon as they should be bereav’n
  Of all the substance that was giv’n,
  They must for their good mother’s ease
  Make up an hundred sesterces.”
  This spread through Athens in a trice;
  The prudent widow takes advice.
  But not a lawyer could unfold
  How they should neither have nor hold
  The very things that they were left.
  Besides, when once they were bereft,
  How they from nothing should confer
  The money that was due to her.
    When a long time was spent in vain,
  And no one could the will explain,
  She left the counsellors unfeed,
  And thus of her own self decreed:
  The minstrels, trinkets, plate, and dress,
  She gave the Lady to possess.
  Then Mrs. Notable she stocks
  With all the fields, the kine and flocks:
  The workmen, farm, with a supply
  Of all the tools of husbandry.
  Last, to the Guzzler she consigns
  The cellar stored with good old wines,
  A handsome house to see a friend,
  With pleasant gardens at the end.
  Thus as she strove th’ affair to close,
  By giving each the things they chose,
  And those that knew them every one
  Highly applauded what was done
  Esop arose, and thus address’d
  The crowd that to his presence press’d:
  “O that the dead could yet perceive!
  How would the prudent father grieve,
  That all th’ Athenians had not skill
  Enough to understand his will!”
  Then at their joint request he solved
  That error, which had all involved.
  “The gardens, house, and wine vaults too,
  Give to the spinster as her due;
  The clothes, the jewels, and such ware,
  Be all the tippling lady’s share;
  The fields, the barns, and flocks of sheep,
  Give the gay courtesan to keep.
  Not one will bear the very touch
  Of things that thwart their tastes so much;
  The slut to fill her cellar straight
  Her wardrobe will evacuate;
  The lady soon will sell her farms,
  For garments to set off her charms;
  But she that loves the flocks and kine
  Will alienate her stores of wine,
  Her rustic genius to employ.
  Thus none their portions shall enjoy,
  And from the money each has made
  Their mother shall be duly paid.”
    Thus one man by his wit disclosed
  The point that had so many posed.

V. THE BATTLE OF THE MICE AND WEASELS.

  The routed Mice upon a day
  Fled from the Weasels in array;
  But in the hurry of the flight,
  What with their weakness and their fright
  Each scarce could get into his cave:
  Howe’er, at last their lives they save.
  But their commanders (who had tied
  Horns to their heads in martial pride,
  Which as a signal they design’d
  For non-commission’d mice to mind)
  Stick in the entrance as they go,
  And there are taken by the foe,
  Who, greedy of the victim, gluts
  With mouse-flesh his ungodly guts.
    Each great and national distress
  Must chiefly mighty men oppress;
  While folks subordinate and poor
  Are by their littleness secure.

VI. PHÆDRUS TO THE CAVILLERS.

  Thou that against my tales inveigh’st,
  As much too pleasant for thy taste;
  Egregious critic, cease to scoff,
  While for a time I play you off,
  And strive to soothe your puny rage.
  As Esop comes upon the stage,
  And dress’d entirely new in Rome,
  Thus enters with the tragic plume.--
  “O that the fair Thessalian pine
  Had never felt the wrath divine,
  And fearless of the axe’s wound,
  Had still the Pelian mountain crown’d!
  That Argus by Palladian aid
  Had ne’er the advent’rous vessel made;
  In which at first, without dismay,
  Death’s bold professors won their way,
  In which th’ inhospitable main
  Was first laid open for the bane
  Of Grecians and barbarians too.
  Which made the proud Æetas rue,
  And whence Medea’s crimes to nought
  The house and reign of Pelias brought.
  She--while in various forms she tries
  Her furious spirit to disguise,
  At one place in her flight bestow’d
  Her brother’s limbs upon the road;
  And at another could betray
  The daughters their own sire to slay.”
    How think you now?--What arrant trash!
  And our assertions much too rash!--
  Since prior to th’ Ægean fleet
  Did Minos piracy defeat,
  And made adventures on the sea.
  How then shall you and I agree?
  Since, stern as Cato’s self, you hate
  All tales alike, both small and great.
    Plague not too much the man of parts;
  For he that does it surely smarts.--
    This threat is to the fools, that squeam
  At every thing of good esteem;
  And that they may to taste pretend,
  Ev’n heaven itself will discommend.

VII. THE VIPER AND THE FILE.

  He that a greater biter bites,
  His folly on himself requites,
  As we shall manifest forthwith.--
    There was a hovel of a smith,
  Where a poor Viper chanced to steal,
  And being greedy of a meal,
  When she had seized upon a file,
  Was answer’d in this rugged style:
  “Why do you think, O stupid snake!
  On me your usual meal to make,
  Who’ve sharper teeth than thine by far,
  And can corrode an iron bar?”

VIII. THE FOX AND THE GOAT.

  A crafty knave will make escape,
  When once he gets into a scrape,
  Still meditating self-defence,
  At any other man’s expense.
    A Fox by some disaster fell
  Into a deep and fenced well:
  A thirsty Goat came down in haste,
  And ask’d about the water’s taste,
  If it was plentiful and sweet?
  At which the Fox, in rank deceit,
  “So great the solace of the run,
  I thought I never should have done.
  Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown.”
  This said, the silly Goat comes down.
  The subtle Fox herself avails,
  And by his horns the mound she scales,
  And leaves the Goat in all the mire,
  To gratify his heart’s desire.

IX. THE TWO BAGS.

  Great Jove, in his paternal care,
  Has giv’n a man two Bags to bear;
  That which his own default contains
  Behind his back unseen remains;
  But that which others’ vice attests
  Swags full in view before our breasts.
    Hence we’re inevitably blind,
  Relating to the Bag behind;
  But when our neighbours misdemean,
  Our censures are exceeding keen.

X. THE SACRILEGIOUS THIEF.

  A villain to Jove’s altar came
  To light his candle in the flame,
  And robb’d the god in dead of night,
  By his own consecrated light:
  Then thus an awful voice was sent,
  As with the sacrilege he went:
  “Though all this gold and silver plate
  As gifts of evil men I hate;
  And their removal from the fane
  Can cause the Deity no pain;
  Yet, caitiff, at th’ appointed time,
  Thy life shall answer for thy crime.
  But, for the future, lest this blaze,
  At which the pious pray and praise,
  Should guide the wicked, I decree
  That no such intercourse there be.”
  Hence to this day all men decline
  To light their candle at the shrine;
  Nor from a candle e’er presume
  The holy light to re-illume.
    How many things are here contain’d,
  By him alone can be explain’d
  Who could this useful tale invent.
  In the first place, herein is meant,
  That they are often most your foes
  Who from your fost’ring hand arose.
  Next, that the harden’d villain’s fate
  Is not from wrath precipitate,
  But rather at a destined hour.
  Lastly, we’re charg’d with all our pow’r,
  To keep ourselves, by care intense,
  From all connexions with offence.

XI. HERCULES AND PLUTUS.

  Wealth by the brave is justly scorn’d,
  Since men are from the truth suborn’d,
  And a full chest perverts their ways
  From giving or deserving praise.
    When Hercules, for matchless worth,
  Was taken up to heav’n from earth,
  As in their turns to all the crowd
  Of gratulating gods he bow’d,
  When Plutus, Fortune’s son, he spies,
  He from his face averts his eyes.
  Jove ask’d the cause of this disgust:
  “I hate him, as he is unjust,
  To wicked men the most inclined,
  And grand corrupter of mankind.”

XII. THE HE-GOATS AND SHE-GOATS.

  When the She-Goats from Jove obtain’d
  A beard, th’ indignant Males complain’d,
  That females by this near approach
  Would on their gravity encroach.
  “Suffer, my sapient friends,” says he,
  “Their eminence in this degree,
  And bear their beard’s most graceful length,
  As they can never have your strength.”
    Warn’d by this little tale, agree
  With men in gen’ral form’d like thee,
  While you by virtue still exceed,
  And in the spirit take the lead.

XIII. THE PILOT AND SAILORS.

  On hearing a poor man lament
  His worldly thoughts in discontent,
  Esop this tale began to write,
  For consolation and delight.
    The ship by furious tempests toss’d,
  The Mariners gave all for lost;
  But midst their tears and dread, the scene
  Is changed at once, and all serene.
  The wind is fair, the vessel speeds,
  The Sailors’ boist’rous joy exceeds:
  The Pilot then, by peril wise,
  Was prompted to philosophise.
  “’Tis right to put a due restraint
  On joy, and to retard complaint,
  Because alternate hope and fright
  Make up our lives of black and white.”

XIV. THE MAN AND THE ADDER.

  He, that malicious men relieves,
  His folly in a season grieves.
  A Man, against himself humane,
  Took up an Adder, that had lain
  And stiffen’d in the frosty air,
  And in his bosom placed with care,
  Where she with speed recov’ring breath,
  Her benefactor stung to death.
  Another Adder near the place,
  On asking why she was so base,
  Was told, “’Tis others to dissuade
  From giving wickedness their aid.”

XV. THE FOX AND THE DRAGON.

  A Fox was throwing up the soil,
  And while with his assiduous toil
  He burrow’d deep into the ground,
  A Dragon in his den he found,
  A-watching hidden treasure there,
  Whom seeing, Renard speaks him fair:
  “First, for your pardon I apply
  For breaking on your privacy;
  Then, as you very plainly see
  That gold is of no use to me,
  Your gentle leave let me obtain
  To ask you, what can be the gain
  Of all this care, and what the fruit,
  That you should not with sleep recruit
  Your spirits, but your life consume
  Thus in an everlasting gloom?”
  “’Tis not my profit here to stay,”
  He cries; “but I must Jove obey.”
  “What! will you therefore nothing take
  Yourself, nor others welcome make?”
  “Ev’n so the fates decree:” --“Then, sir,
  Have patience, whilst I do aver
  That he who like affections knows
  Is born with all the gods his foes.
  Since to that place you needs must speed,
  Where all your ancestors precede,
  Why in the blindness of your heart
  Do you torment your noble part?”
    All this to thee do I indite,
  Thou grudging churl, thy heir’s delight,
  Who robb’st the gods of incense due,
  Thyself of food and raiment too;
  Who hear’st the harp with sullen mien,
  To whom the piper gives the spleen;
  Who’rt full of heavy groans and sighs
  When in their price provisions rise;
  Who with thy frauds heaven’s patience tire
  To make thy heap a little higher,
  And, lest death thank thee, in thy will
  Hast tax’d the undertaker’s bill.

XVI. PHÆDRUS, ON HIS FABLES.

  What certain envious hearts intend
  I very clearly comprehend,
  Let them dissemble e’er so much.--
  When they perceive the master’s touch,
  And find ’tis likely to endure,
  They’ll say ’tis Esop to be sure--
  But what appears of mean design,
  At any rate they’ll vouch for mine.
  These in a word I would refute:
  Whether of great or no repute,
  What sprung from Esop’s fertile thought
  This hand has to perfection brought;
  But waiving things to our distaste,
  Let’s to the destined period haste.

XVII. THE SHIPWRECK OF SIMONIDES.

  A man, whose learned worth is known,
  Has always riches of his own.
    Simonides, who was the head
  Of lyric bards, yet wrote for bread,
  His circuit took through every town
  In Asia of the first renown,
  The praise of heroes to rehearse,
  Who gave him money for his verse.
  When by this trade much wealth was earn’d,
  Homewards by shipping he return’d
  (A Cean born, as some suppose):
  On board he went, a tempest rose,
  Which shook th’ old ship to that degree,
  She founder’d soon as out at sea.
  Some purses, some their jewels tie
  About them for a sure supply;
  But one more curious, ask’d the seer,
  “Poet, have you got nothing here?”
  “My all,” says he, “is what I am.”--
  On this some few for safety swam
  (For most o’erburden’d by their goods,
  Were smother’d in the whelming floods).
  The spoilers came, the wealth demand,
  And leave them naked on the strand.
  It happen’d for the shipwreck’d crew
  An ancient city was in view,
  By name Clazomena, in which
  There lived a scholar learn’d and rich,
  Who often read, his cares to ease,
  The verses of Simonides,
  And was a vast admirer grown
  Of this great poet, though unknown.
  Him by his converse when he traced,
  He with much heartiness embraced,
  And soon equipp’d the bard anew,
  With servants, clothes, and money too,
  The rest benevolence implored,
  With case depicted on a board:
  Which when Simonides espied,
  “I plainly told you all,” he cried,
  “That all my wealth was in myself;
  As for your chattels and your pelf,
  On which ye did so much depend,
  They’re come to nothing in the end.”

XVIII. THE MOUNTAIN IN LABOR.

  The Mountain labor’d, groaning loud,
  On which a num’rous gaping crowd
  Of noodles came to see the sight,
  When, lo! a mouse was brought to light!
    This tale’s for men of swagg’ring cast,
  Whose threats, voluminous and vast,
  With all their verse and all their prose,
  Can make but little on’t, God knows.

XIX. THE ANT AND THE FLY.

  An Ant and Fly had sharp dispute
  Which creature was of most repute;
  When thus began the flaunting Fly:
  “Are you so laudible as I?
  I, ere the sacrifice is carved,
  Precede the gods; first come, first served--
  Before the altar take my place,
  And in all temples show my face,
  Whene’er I please I set me down
  Upon the head that wears a crown.
  I with impunity can taste
  The kiss of matrons fair and chaste.
  And pleasure without labor claim--
  Say, trollop, canst thou do the same?”
    “The feasts of gods are glorious fare.
  No doubt, to those who’re welcome there;
  But not for such detested things.--
  You talk of matron’s lips and kings;
  I, who with wakeful care and pains
  Against the winter hoard my grains,
  Thee feeding upon ordure view.--
  The altars you frequent, ’tis true;
  But still are driv’n away from thence,
  And elsewhere, as of much offence.
  A life of toil you will not lead,
  And so have nothing when you need.
  Besides all this, you talk with pride
  Of things that modesty should hide.
  You plague me here, while days increase,
  But when the winter comes you cease.
  Me, when the cold thy life bereaves,
  A plenteous magazine receives.
  I think I need no more advance
  To cure you of your arrogance.”
    The tenor of this tale infers
  Two very diff’rent characters;
  Of men self-praised and falsely vain,
  And men of real worth in grain.

XX. THE ESCAPE OF SIMONIDES.

  Th’ attention letters can engage,
  Ev’n from a base degen’rate age,
  I’ve shown before; and now shall show
  Their lustre in another view,
  And tell a memorable tale,
  How much they can with heav’n prevail.
    Simonides, the very same
  We lately had a call to name,
  Agreed for such a sum to blaze
  A certain famous champion’s praise.
  He therefore a retirement sought,
  But found the theme on which he wrote
  So scanty, he was forced to use
  Th’ accustom’d license of the muse,
  And introduced and praise bestow’d
  On Leda’s sons to raise his ode;
  With these the rather making free,
  As heroes in the same degree.
  He warranted his work, and yet
  Could but one third of payment get.
  Upon demanding all the due,
  “Let them,” says he, “pay t’other two,
  Who take two places in the song;
  But lest you think I do you wrong
  And part in dudgeon--I invite
  Your company to sup this night,
  For then my friends and kin I see,
  ’Mongst which I choose to reckon thee.”
  Choused and chagrined, yet shunning blame,
  He promised, set the hour, and came;
  As fearful lest a favour spurn’d
  Should to an open breach be turn’d.
  The splendid banquet shone with plate,
  And preparations full of state
  Made the glad house with clamors roar--
  When on a sudden at the door
  Two youths, with sweat and dust besmear’d,
  Above the human form appear’d,
  And charged forthwith a little scout
  To bid Simonides come out,
  That ’twas his int’rest not to stay.--
  The slave, in trouble and dismay,
  Roused from his seat the feasting bard,
  Who scarce had stirr’d a single yard
  Before the room at once fell in,
  And crush’d the champion and his kin.
  No youths before the door are found.--
  The thing soon spread the country round;
  And when each circumstance was weigh’d,
  They knew the gods that visit made,
  And saved the poet’s life in lieu
  Of those two-thirds which yet were due.

EPILOGUE TO EUTYCHUS.

  I yet have stock in hand to spare,
  And could write on--but will forbear--
  First, lest I tire a friend, whose state
  And avocations are so great:
  And then, if other pens should try
  This moral scheme as well as I,
  They may have something to pursue:--
  Yet if the spacious field we view,
  More men are wanting for the plan,
  Rather than matter for the man.
  Now for that prize I make my plea
  You promised to my brevity.
  Keep your kind word; for life, my friend,
  Is daily nearer to its end;
  And I shall share your love the less
  The longer you your hand repress:
  The sooner you the boon insure,
  The more the tenure must endure;
  And if I quick possession take,
  The greater profit must I make,
  While yet declining age subsists,
  A room for friendly aid exists.
  Anon with tasteless years grown weak,
  In vain benevolence will seek
  To do me good--when Death at hand
  Shall come and urge his last demand.
  ’Tis folly, you’ll be apt to say,
  A thousand times to beg and pray
  Of one with so much worth and sense,
  Whose gen’rous bounty is propense.
  If e’er a miscreant succeeds,
  By fair confession of his deeds,
  An innocent offender’s case
  Is far more worthy of your grace.
  You for example sake begin,
  Then others to the lure you’ll win,
  And in rotation more and more
  Will soon communicate their store.
  Consider in your mind how far
  At stake your word and honour are;
  And let your closing the debate
  By what I may congratulate.
  I have been guilty of excess
  Beyond my thought in this address
  But ’tis not easy to refrain
  A spirit work’d up to disdain
  By wretches insolent and vile,
  With a clear conscience all the while.
  You’ll ask me, sir, at whom I hint--
  In time they may appear in print.
  But give me leave to cite a phrase
  I met with in my boyish days.
  “’Tis dangerous for the mean and low
  Too plain their grievances to show.”
  This is advice I shall retain
  While life and sanity remain.

BOOK V.

PROLOGUE, TO PARTICULO

  When I resolved my hand to stay
  For this, that others might have play,
  On reconsidering of my part
  I soon recanted in my heart:
  For if a rival should arise,
  How can he possibly devise
  The things that I have let alone,
  Since each man’s fancy is his own,
  And likewise colouring of the piece?--
  It was not therefore mere caprice,
  But strong reflection made me write:
  Wherefore since you in tales delight,
  Which I, in justice, after all,
  Not Esop’s, but Esopian call;
  Since he invented but a few;
  I more, and some entirely new,
  Keeping indeed the ancient style,
  With fresh materials all the while.
  As at your leisure you peruse
  The fourth collection of my muse,
  That you may not be at a stand,
  A fifth shall shortly come to hand;
  ’Gainst which, if as against the rest,
  Malignant cavillers protest,
  Let them carp on, and make it plain
  They carp at what they can’t attain.
  My fame’s secure, since I can show
  How men of eminence like you,
  My little book transcribe and quote,
  As like to live of classic note.
  It is th’ ambition of my pen
  To win th’ applause of learned men.

I. DEMETRIUS AND MENANDER.

  If Esop’s name at any time
  I bring into this measured rhyme,
  To whom I’ve paid whate’er I owe,
  Let all men by these presents know,
  I with th’ old fabulist make free,
  To strengthen my authority.
  As certain sculptors of the age,
  The more attention to engage,
  And raise their price, the curious please,
  By forging of Praxiteles;
  And in like manner they purloin
  A Myro to their silver coin.
  ’Tis thus our fables we can smoke,
  As pictures for their age bespoke:
  For biting envy, in disgust
  To new improvements, favors rust;
  But now a tale comes in of course,
  Which these assertions will enforce.
    Demetrius, who was justly call’d
  The tyrant, got himself install’d,
  And held o’er Athens impious sway.
  The crowd, as ever is the way,
  Came, eager rushing far and wide,
  And, “Fortunate event!” they cried.
  The nobles came, the throne address’d:
  The hand by which they were oppress’d
  They meekly kiss’d, with inward stings
  Of anguish for the face of things.
  The idlers also, with the tribe
  Of those who to themselves prescribe
  Their ease and pleasure, in the end
  Came sneaking, lest they should offend.
  Amongst this troop Menander hies,
  So famous for his comedies.
  (Him, though he was not known by sight,
  The tyrant read with great delight,
  Struck with the genius of the bard.)
  In flowing robes bedaub’d with nard,
  And saunt’ring tread he came along,
  Whom, at the bottom of the throng,
  When Phalereus beheld, he said:
  “How dares that fribble show his head
  In this our presence?” he was told--
  “It is Menander you behold.”
  Then, changed at once from fierce to bland,
  He call’d, and took him by the hand.

II. THE THIEF AND THE TRAVELLERS.

  Two men equipp’d were on their way;
  One fearful; one without dismay,
  An able fencer. As they went,
  A robber came with black intent;
  Demanding, upon pain of death,
  Their gold and silver in a breath.
  At which the man of spirit drew,
  And instantly disarm’d and slew
  The Thief, his honor to maintain.
  Soon as the rogue was fairly slain,
  The tim’rous chap began to puff,
  And drew his sword, and stripp’d in buff--
  “Leave me alone with him! stand back!
  I’ll teach him whom he should attack.”
  Then he who fought, “I wish, my friend,
  But now you’d had such words to lend;
  I might have been confirm’d the more,
  Supposing truth to all you swore;
  Then put your weapon in the sheath,
  And keep your tongue within your teeth,
  Though you may play an actor’s part
  On them who do not know your heart.
  I, who have seen this very day
  How lustily you ran away,
  Experience when one comes to blows
  How far your resolution goes.”
    This narrative to those I tell
  Who stand their ground when all is well;
  But in the hour of pressing need
  Abash’d, most shamefully recede.

III. THE BALD MAN AND THE FLY.

  As on his head she chanced to sit,
  A Man’s bald pate a Gadfly bit;
  He, prompt to crush the little foe,
  Dealt on himself a grievous blow:
  At which the Fly, deriding said,
  “You that would strike an insect dead
  For one slight sting, in wrath so strict,
  What punishment will you inflict
  Upon yourself, who was so blunt
  To do yourself this gross affront?”--
  “O,” says the party, “as for me,
  I with myself can soon agree.
  The spirit of th’ intention’s all;
  But thou, detested cannibal!
  Blood-sucker! to have thee secured
  More would I gladly have endured.”
    What by this moral tale is meant
  Is--those who wrong not with intent
  Are venial; but to those that do
  Severity, I think, is due.

IV. THE MAN AND THE ASS.

  A certain Man, when he had made
  A sacrifice, for special aid
  To Hercules, and kill’d a swine,
  Did for his Ass’s share assign
  All the remainder of the corn;
  But he, rejecting it with scorn,
  Thus said: “I gladly would partake--
  But apprehend that life’s at stake;
  For he you fatted up and fed
  With store of this, is stuck and dead.”
    Struck with the import of this tale,
  I have succeeded to prevail
  Upon my passions, and abstain,
  From peril of immod’rate gain.
  But, you will say, those that have come
  Unjustly by a handsome sum,
  Upon the pillage still subsist--
  Why, if we reckon up the list,
  You’ll find by far the major part
  Have been conducted in the cart:
  Temerity for some may do,
  But many more their rashness rue.

V. THE BUFFOON AND COUNTRY-FELLOW.

  In ev’ry age, in each profession,
  Men err the most by prepossession;
  But when the thing is clearly shown,
  Is fairly urged, and fully known,
  We soon applaud what we deride,
  And penitence succeeds to pride.
    A certain noble, on a day,
  Having a mind to show away,
  Invited by reward the mimes
  And play’rs and tumblers of the times,
  And built a large commodious stage
  For the choice spirits of the age:
  But, above all, amongst the rest
  There came a genius who profess’d
  To have a curious trick in store
  That never was perform’d before.
  Through all the town this soon got air,
  And the whole house was like a fair;
  But soon his entry as he made,
  Without a prompter or parade,
  ’Twas all expectance and suspense,
  And silence gagg’d the audience.
  He, stooping down and looking big,
  So wondrous well took off a pig,
  All swore ’twas serious, and no joke,
  For that, or underneath his cloak
  He had concealed some grunting elf,
  Or was a real hog himself.
  A search was made--no pig was found--
  With thund’ring claps the seats resound,
  And pit, and box, and gall’ries roar
  With-- “O rare! bravo!” and “encore.”
  Old Roger Grouse, a country clown,
  Who yet knew something of the town,
  Beheld the mimic of his whim,
  And on the morrow challenged him
  Declaring to each beau and belle
  That he this grunter would excel.
  The morrow came--the crowd was greater--
  But prejudice and rank ill-nature
  Usurp’d the minds of men and wenches,
  Who came to hiss and break the benches.
  The mimic took his usual station,
  And squeak’d with general approbation;
  Again “Encore! encore!” they cry--
  “’Tis quite the thing, ’tis very high.”
  Old Grouse conceal’d, amidst this racket,
  A real pig beneath his jacket--
  Then forth he came, and with his nail
  He pinch’d the urchin by the tail.
  The tortured pig, from out his throat,
  Produced the genuine nat’ral note.
  All bellow’d out ’twas very sad!
  Sure never stuff was half so bad.
  “That like a pig!” each cried in scoff;
  “Pshaw! nonsense! blockhead! off! off! off!”
  The mimic was extoll’d, and Grouse
  Was hiss’d, and catcall’d from the house.
  “Soft ye, a word before I go,”
  Quoth honest Hodge; and stooping low,
  Produced the pig, and thus aloud
  Bespoke the stupid partial crowd:
  “Behold, and learn from this poor cratur,
  How much you critics know of natur!”

TO PARTICULO

    As yet my muse is not to seek,
  But can from fresh materials speak;
  And our poetic fountain springs
  With rich variety of things.
  But you’re for sallies short and sweet;
  Long tales their purposes defeat.
  Wherefore, thou worthiest, best of men
  Particulo, for whom my pen
  Immortal honour will insure,
  Long as a rev’rence shall endure
  For Roman learning--if this strain
  Cannot your approbation gain,
  Yet, yet my brevity admire,
  Which may the more to praise aspire,
  The more our poets now-a-days
  Are tedious in their lifeless lays.

VI. THE TWO BALD MEN.

  As on his way a Bald-pate went,
  He found a comb by accident;
  Another, with a head as bare,
  Pursued, and hollow’d for a share.
  The first produced the prize, and cried,
  “Good Providence was on our side;
  But by the strange caprice of Fate,
  We’re to no purpose fortunate;
  And, as the proverb says, have found
  A hobnail, for a hundred pound.”
    They by this tale may be relieved
  Whose sanguine hopes have been deceived.

VII. PRINCE THE PIPER.

  A little, friv’lous, abject mind,
  Pleased with the rabble, puff’d with wind,
  When once, as fast as pride presumes,
  Itself with vanity it plumes,
  Is by fond lightness brought with ease
  To any ridicule you please.
    One Prince, a piper to the play,
  Was rather noted in his way,
  As call’d upon to show his art,
  Whene’er Bathyllus did his part.
  He being at a certain fair,
  (I do not well remember where,)
  While they pull’d down the booth in haste,
  Not taking heed, his leg displaced,
  He from the scaffold fell so hard--
  (Would he his pipes had rather marr’d!
  Though they, poor fellow! were to him
  As dear almost as life and limb).
  Borne by the kind officious crowd,
  Home he’s conducted, groaning loud.
  Some months elapsed before he found
  Himself recover’d of his wound:
  Meantime, according to their way,
  The droll frequenters of the play
  Had a great miss of him, whose touch
  The dancers’ spirits raised so much.
  A certain man of high renown
  Was just preparing for the town
  Some games the mob to entertain,
  When Prince began to walk again;
  Whom, what with bribes and pray’rs, his grace
  Prevail’d upon to show his face
  In this performance, by all means--
  And while he waits behind the scenes,
  A rumour through the house is spread,
  By certain, that “the piper’s dead.”
  Others cried out, “The man is here,
  And will immediately appear.”
  The curtain draws, the lightnings flash,
  The gods speak out their usual trash.
  An ode, not to the Piper known,
  Was to the chorus leader shown,
  Which he was order’d to repeat,
  And which was closed with this conceit--
  “Receive with joy, O loyal Rome,
  Thy Prince just rescued from his tomb.”
  They all at once stand up and clap,
  At which my most facetious chap
  Kisses his hand, and scrapes and bows
  To his good patrons in the house.
  First the equestrian order smoke
  The fool’s mistake, and high in joke,
  Command the song to be encored;
  Which ended, flat upon the board
  The Piper falls, the knights acclaim;
  The people think that Prince’s aim
  Is for a crown of bays at least.
  Now all the seats perceived the jest,
  And with his bandage white as snow,
  White frock, white pumps, a perfect beauty
  Proud of the feats he had achieved,
  And these high honours he received,
  With one unanimous huzza, Poor
  Prince was kick’d out of the play.

VIII. OPPORTUNITY.

  Bald, naked, of a human shape,
  With fleet wings ready to escape,
  Upon a razor’s edge his toes,
  And lock that on his forehead grows--
  Him hold, when seized, for goodness’ sake,
  For Jove himself cannot retake
  The fugitive when once he’s gone.
  The picture that we here have drawn
  Is Opportunity so brief.--
    The ancients, in a bas-relief,
  Thus made an effigy of Time,
  That every one might use their prime;
  Nor e’er impede, by dull delay,
  Th’ effectual business of to-day.

IX. THE BULL AND THE CALF.

  A Bull was struggling to secure
  His passage at a narrow door,
  And scarce could reach the rack of hay,
  His horns so much were in his way.
  A Calf officious, fain would show
  How he might twist himself and go.
  “Hold thou thy prate; all this,” says he,
  “Ere thou wert calved was known to me.”
    He, that a wiser man by half
  Would teach, may think himself this Calf.

X. THE OLD DOG AND THE HUNTSMAN.

  A Dog, that time and often tried,
  His master always satisfied;
  And whensoever he assail’d,
  Against the forest-beasts prevail’d
  Both by activity and strength,
  Through years began to flag at length.
  One day, when hounded at a boar,
  His ear he seized, as heretofore;
  But with his teeth, decay’d and old,
  Could not succeed to keep his hold.
  At which the huntsman, much concern’d,
  The vet’ran huff’d, who thus return’d:
  “My resolution and my aim,
  Though not my strength, are still the same;
  For what I am if I am chid,
  Praise what I was, and what I did.”
    Philetus, you the drift perceive
  Of this, with which I take my leave.

THE END.

  LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
  STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

Errata (noted by transcriber)

Inconsistencies in fable numbering are described at the beginning of the
Table of Contents. All footnotes (Fn.), Æsopian Fables (AF) and New
Fables (NF) are in Riley only.

“Invisible” means that there is an appropriately sized blank space in
the text, but the letter itself is absent.

  Fn. I.26  The “lagena,” or “lagona,” was a long-necked bottle
    [_standard spelling is “lagoena” or “lagœna”_]
  Fn. II.6  she is called “anus,” “an Old Woman,”
    [_The Latin language had two unrelated words spelled “anus”. The
    one referenced here is “anūs” with long final U._]
  Fn. V.7  the word “tibia,” which signifies the main bone of the leg
    [_Not an error: until recently, English “leg” often had the
    narrower meaning of “lower leg”._]

Errors and inconsistencies:

RILEY

  Fn. III.2  The “feriæ imperativæ” were appointed to be held  [feræ]
  Fn. III.22  to cut short any disagreable question
    [_spelling unchanged_]
  III.XIX  If the inquisitive fellow reflected  [inquistive]
  Fn. IV.27  riches were more commonly buried in the earth  [duried]
  V.V  excites their applause, and awakens  [awaken]
  NF IX  as {well he might}
    [_“as // as” at page break, italicized as shown_]
  NF XXIX  when can no longer escape the dogs
    [_text unchanged: probable missing word “when he can...”_
    _missing space “longerescape”_]
  NF Fn. 22: This pun upon the resemblance  [resesemblance]
  AF VI  while meditating the destruction others.
    [_text unchanged: probable missing word “destruction of others”_]
  AF XV  The King, as soon as he aware of this
    [_text unchanged: missing verb in “he ... aware”_]
  AF XXVI  the attack of the Hawk when he comes  [cames]
  AF XXVIII  dragging forth from her hole  [her her]

SMART

  I.XXVI  In a tall flagon, finely minced,  [Ina tall]
  II.Prol.  I shall abide by Esop’s plan:  [my]
  II.Epil.  Him setting on th’ eternal base,  [th’ the eternal]
  --  That they might teach to all mankind  [makind]
  III.Prol.  From worldly cares you must estrange  [wordly]
  --  With Æsop for my master still;
  --  Inventing more than Æsop knew;
    [_anomalous spelling unchanged in both]
  --  To my own hindrence did I try.  [_spelling unchanged_]
  III.VII  Warn’d by our council, oft beware
    [_text unchanged: error for “counsel”?_]
  IV.I  FABLE I. THE WEAZEL AND MICE.  [_spelling unchanged_]
  IV.XIX  And men of real worth in  grain.
    [_text unchanged: probable missing word “in the grain”_]
  IV.Epi.  This moral scheme as well as I  [morals cheme]

Missing or incorrect footnote tags:

  III.Prol.  TO EUTYCHUS.[1]
  --  Anacharsis of Scythia[10] could
  IV.VI  (whose History is painted in {our} taverns[12])
    [_printed “1” for “2”_]
  V.I  Demetrius,[2] who was called Phalereus
    [_printed “1” for “2”_]
  New Fables: BY SOME ATTRIBUTED TO PHÆDRUS.[1]
  NF.XXI  If at any time[17] sustenance is wanting

Incorrect punctuation or capitalization:

RILEY

  I.I  “Indeed,” answered the Lamb,  [’ for ”]
  Fn. I.12  _This new cause of astonishment_)--Ver. 8. Never
    [_anomalous -- after line number_]
  I.XXV  he drank and ran away.”  [, for .]
  Fn. III.13  _Falernian Lees_  [_body text has lower-case “lees”_]
  Fn. III.14  _O, delicious fragrance_
    [_body text has no comma after “O”_]
  Fn. IV.4  to defray the expenses of the worship.  [, for .]
  --  B. iv., l. 350, vol. i., p. 149  [vol. .i,]
  IV.XVII  not able to keep their stomachs in order.  [order..]
  IV.XIX  who rob the Gods of their incense, yourself of food
    [_printed “your-/yourself” at line break_]
  Fn. V.13  signifying to make the best of an opportunity.
    [_superfluous ” at end_]
  Fn. V.15  _Philetus._)  [_anomalous ._]
  Fn. NF.4  the word “menda,” a blemish.
    [_superfluous ” at end: blemish.”_]
  Fn. NF.23  by the name of ψυχή  [ψύχη]

SMART

  I.VIII  And now, forsooth, you’d bring your bill!”  [’ for ”]
  III.V  Pray get on faster with the cart
    [_superfluous “ at beginning (top of page)]
  IV.XX  How much they can with heav’n prevail.  [, for .]
  V.Prol.  And likewise colouring of the piece?--
    [_superfluous close quote: piece?”--]

Mechanical Errors:

RILEY

  I.XIV  {in consideration of} a stated reward.  [_d. invisible_]
  I.XV  feeding an Ass in a meadow  [_i of “in” invisible_]
  II.Epil.  a book of jests partly from the works of Æsop.
    [_f of “of” invisible_]
  AF.XXVIII  dance in the winter  [_d invisible_]

SMART

  I.XX  But proves destructive in the end  [_B invisible_]
  III.VII  “My dears,” he says, “ye may not pass
    [_line-final s missing or invisible_]
  III.VIII  “I wish,” says he, “with all my soul
    [_line-final l missing or invisible_]
  III.XIX  Cybele’s priests, in quest of bread,
    [_s of “quest” invisible_]

Missing or invisible punctuation:

  _Unless otherwise noted, the quotation mark “ or ” is missing._

RILEY

  I.II  continue to endure your bad fortune.’”  [_inner ’ missing_]
  I.III  to feel {the additional pang} of this repulse.”
  I.X  have stolen what you so speciously deny.”
  I.XI  I should have fled in alarm like {the rest}.”
  Fn I.12  heard the voice of an ass in the forests before.
    [_final . missing_]
  I.XXIII  that you may not profit by my neglect.”
  I.XXVII  have suddenly coveted regal wealth.”
  I.XXIX  to be defiled with {such} dastardly blood.”
  I.XXX  “and they are of a different kind
  II.V  manumission stands at a much higher price with me.”
  Fn II.5  Vera, inquit----”
  Fn II.12  Whatever violence and unscrupulousness attack, comes.
    [_final . missing_]
  Fn III.15 manumitted, as generally supposed, by Augustus
    [_second , missing_]
  III.VII  “how is it that you are so sleek?
  IV.XVIII  “That people may learn not to assist the wicked.”[26]
  IV.XXIV  my kinsmen, in the number of whom I reckon you.”
  Fn V.12  which was worshipped with Divine honors.
    [_final . missing_]
  V.X  you blame me that I am not {what I was}.”
  NF XXIV  dropped the prey from her mouth unenjoyed.
    [_final . missing_]
  NF XXV  you would have suffered for it.”
  NF XXVII  never done any injury to this field.”
  NF XXIII  and your harmless life.”
  NF XXX  by fixing your sting in him.”
  AF XIII  how much more beauteous you would be.”

SMART

_In titles, the final . is missing or invisible._

  I.XI  “How did my music-piece go off?”  [_close quote missing_]
  I.XVI  THE SHEEP, THE STAG, AND THE WOLF.
  I.XXI  “But to be trampled on by thee
  I.XXX  THE KITE AND THE DOVES.
  III.XII  THE BEES AND THE DRONES.
  III.XVII  But when I speak the audience sneers.”
  IV.IV  Enough to understand his will!”
  IV.VI  The daughters their own sire to slay.”
  IV.VIII  Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown.”
  IV.X  THE SACRILEGIOUS THIEF.
  IV.XX  THE ESCAPE OF SIMONIDES.