Like heroes of eternal name,
Whom pocts fing, I fight for fame.
'The butcher's fpirit-ftirring mind
To daily war my youth inclin'd;
He train'd me to heroic deed;
Taught me to conquer, or to bleed.
Cuis'd Dog! the Bull replied; no more
I wonder at thy thirft of gore;
For thou (beneath a butcher train'd,
Whofe hands with cruelty are ftain'd,
His daily murders in thy view)
Muft, like thy tutor, blood purfue.
Take then thy fate. With goring wound,
At once he lifts him from the ground:
Aloft the fprawling hero flies;
Mangled he falls, he howls, and dies.

130. FABLE X. The Elephant and the Bookfeller. THE man who with undaunted toils

Sails unknown feas to unknown foils,
With various wonders feafts his fight:
What franger wonders does he write!
We read, and in defcription view
Creatures which Adam never knew:
For, when we rifk no contradiction,
It prompts the tongue to deal in fiction.
Thofe things that ftartle me or you,
1 grant are ftrange, yet may be true.
Who doubts that Elephants are found
For fcience and for fenfe renown'd?
Borri records their ftrength of parts,
Extent of thought, and skill in arts;
How they perform the law's decrees,
And fave the ftate the hangman's fees:
And how by travel underftand
The language of another land.
Let thole who queftion this report,
To Pliny's ancient page refort:
How learn'd was that fagacious breed!
Who now like them the Greek can read i
As one of thefe, in days of yore,
Rummag'd a fhop of learning o'er;
Not, like our modern dealers, minding
Only the margin's breadth and binding;
A book his curious eye detains,
Where with exactest care and pains
Were ev'ry beaft and bird portray'd,
That e'er the fearch of man furvey'd.
Their natures and their pow'rs were writ
With all the pride of human wit.
The page he with attention spread,
And thus remark'd on what he read :
Man with strong reafon is endow'd;
A beaft fcarce inftinét is allow'd.
But let this author's work be tried;
'Tis plain that neither was his guide.
Can he difcern the different natures,
And weigh the pow'r of other creatures,
Who by the partial work hath fhewn
He knows fo little of his own?
How falfely is the fpaniel drawn!
Did man from him firft learn to fawn?

A dog proficient in the trade!
He the chief flatt'rer nature made!
Go, Man, the ways of counts difcern,
You'll find a fpaniel ftill might learn.
How can the Fox's theft and plunder
Provoke his cenfure or his wonder >
From courtiers' tricks, and lawyers' arts,
The fox might well improve his parts.
The hon, wolf, and tiger's brood,
He curfes for their thift of blood:
But is not man to man a prey?
Beafts kill for hunger, men for pay.

The Bookfeller, who heard him fpeak,
And saw him turn a page of Greek,
Thought, what a genius have I found!
Then thus addrefs'd with bow profound:
Learn'd Sir, if you 'd employ your pen
Against the fenfelets fons of men,
Or write the hiftory of Siam,
No man is better pay than I am;
Or, fince you 're learn'd in Greek, let's fee
Something against the Trinity.

When, wrinkling with a fneer his trunk,
Friend, quoth the Elephant, you 're drunk ;
E'en keep your money, and be wife :
Leave man on man to criticife:
For that you ne'er can want a pen
Among the fenfelefs tons of men,
They unprovok'd will court the fray:
Envy's a fharper fpur than pay.
No author ever fpar'd a brother;
Wits are game-cocks to one another,

131. FABLE XI. The Peacock, the Turkey, and
the Goofe.

IN beauty faults confpicuous grow;
The fmalleft fpeck is feen on fuow.
As near a barn, by hunger led,
A Peacock with the poultry fed;
All view'd him with an envious eye,
And mock'd his gaudy pageantry.
He, confcious of fuperior merit,
Contemns their bafe reviling spirit;
His ftate and dignity allumes,
And to the fun difplays his plumes;
Which, like the heavens' o'er-arching fkies,
Are fpangled with a thousand eyes.
The circling rays, and varied light,
At once confound their dazzled fight:
On ev'ry tongue detraction burns,
And malice prompts their fpleen by turns.
Mark with what infolence and pride
The creature takes his haughty ftride,
The Turkey cries. Can fplecn contain ?
Sure never bird was half fo vain !
But, were intrinfic merit feen,
We Turkeys have the whiter skin.

From tongue to tongue they caught abuse;
And next was heard the hiffing Geofe:
What hideous legs! what filthy claws!

i fcorn to cenfure little flaws.
Then what a hor: id fqualling throat!
Ev'n owls are frighted at the notę.

True-thofe are faults, the Peacock cries;
My fcream, my faanks, you may defpife:
But fuch blind critics rail in vain :
What! overlook my radiant train!
Know, did my legs (your fcorn and fport)
The Turkey or the Goofe fupport,
And did ye fcream with harfher found,
Thofe faults in you had ne'er been found!
To all apparent beautics blind,

Each blemish ftrikes an envious mind.
Thus in affemblies have I feen

A nymph of brighteft charms and mien
Wake envy in each ugly face;
And buzzing scandal fills the place,

132. FABLE XII. Cupid, Hymen, and Plutus.

AS Cupid in Cythera's grove

Employ'd the leffer pow'rs of love;
Same fhape the bow, or fit the ftring;
Some give the taper fhaft its wing,
Or turn the polifh'd quiver's mould,
Or head the darts with temper'd gold.
Amidst their toil and various care,
Thus Hymen, with affuming air,
Addrefs'd the God: Thou purblind chit,
Of awkward and ill-judging wit,
If matches are not better made,
At once I must forfwear my trade.
You fend me fuch ill-coupled folks,
That 'tis a fhame to fell them yokes;
They fquabble for a pin, a feather,
And wonder how they came together.
The husband's fullen, dogged, fhy;
The wife grows flippant in reply;
He loves command and due reftriction,
And fhe as well likes contradiction:
She never flavishly fubmits;

She'll have her will, or have her fits:
He this way tugs, she t' other draws;
The man grows jealous, and with caufe:
Nothing can fave him but divorce;
And here the wife complies of course.
When, fays the boy, had I to do
With either your affairs or you?
I never idly fpent my darts;
You trade in mercenary hearts.
For fettlements the lawyer's feed;
Is my hand witness to the deed?
If they like cat and dog agree,
Go rail at Plutus, not at me.
Plutus appear'd, and faid-'Tis true,
In marriage gold is all their view;
They feek no beauty, wit, or fenfe;
And love is feldom the pretence.
All offer incenfe at my fhrine,
And I alone the bargain fign.
How can Belinda blame her fate?
She only afk'd a great estate.
Doris was rich enough, 'tis true;
Her lord must give her title too:
And ev'ry man, or rich or poor,
A fortune afks, and afks no more.

Av'rice, whatever shape it bears, Muft ftill be coupled with its cares.

133. PABLE XIII. The Tame Stag Sa young Stag the thicket pafs'd, The branches held his antlers fast; A clown, who faw the captive hung, Across the horns his halter flung.

Now fafely hamper'd in the cord,
He bore the prefent to his lord.
His lord was pleas'd; as was the clown,
When he was tipp'd with half-a-crown.
The Stag was brought before his wife;
The tender lady begg'd his life.
How fleck's the fkin! how fpeck'd like ermines
Sure never creature was fo charming!

At first, within the vard confin'd,
He flies, and hides from all mankind;
Now, bolder grown, with fix'd amaze,
And diftant awe, prefumes to gaze :
Munches the linen on the lines,
And on a hood or apron dines;
He fteals my little matter's bread,
Follows the fervants to be fed :
Nearer and nearer now he stands,
To feel the praife of patting hands;
Examines every fift for meat,
And, though repuls'd, difdains retreat;
Attacks again with levell'd horns;
And man, that was his terror, fcorns.

Such is the country maiden's fright,
When firft a red-coat is in fight;
Behind the door fhe hides her face;
Next time at diftance eyes the lace;
She now can all his terrors ftand,
Nor from his fqueeze withdraws her hand.
She plays familiar in his arms,
And ev'ry foldier hath his charms.
From tent to tent the spreads her flame;
For cuftom conquers fear and thame.

§ 134. FABLE XÎv. The Monkey who bad feen

A

the World.

MONKEY, to reform the times,
Refolv'd to vifit foreign climes:
For men in diftant regions roam
To bring politer manners home.
So forth he fares, all toil defics;
Misfortune ferves to make us wife.

At length the treach'rous fuare was laid;
Poor Pug was caught, to town convey'd,
There fold. 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 toilet calls, with mimic play
He twirls her knots, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.
In vifits too his parts and wit,
When jefts grew dull, were fure to hit.
Proud with applaufe, he thought his mind
In ev'ry courtly art refin'd;

Like

A needle with that filthy ftone, Quite idle, all with ruft o'ergrown! You better might employ your parts, And aid the fempftrels in her arts. But tell me how the friendship grew Between that paltry fiint and you.

Friend, fays the Needle, ceafe to blame; I follow real worth and fame.

Know'st thou the loadsione's pow'r and art,
That virtue virtues can impart ?
Of all his talents I partake;
How can I fuch a friend for fake!
'Tis I direct the pilot's hand

To fhun the rocks and treach'rous fand;
By me the diftant world is known,
And either India is our own.
Had I with milliners been bred,
What had I been? the guide of thread,
And drudg'd as vulgar needles do,
Of no more confequence than you.

$137. FABLE XVII. 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 fecure he lay;
The thefts of night regal'd the day.
In vain the fhepherd's wakeful care

Had fpread the toils, and watch'd the fnare;
In vain the Dog purfued his pace;
The fleeter robber mock'd the chace.
As Lightfoot rang'd the foreft round,
By chance his foe's retreat he found.
A truce, replies the Wolf. 'Tis done.
The Dog the parley thus begun:
How can that ftrong intrepid mind
Attack a weak defencelefs kind?
Thofe jaws fhould prey on nobler food,
And drink the boar's and lion's blood;
Great fouls with gen'rous pity melt,
Which coward tyrants never felt.
How harmless is our flcecy care!
Be brave, and let thy mercy fpare.
Friend, fays the Wolf, the inatter weigh;
Nature defign'd us beafts of prey;
As fuch, when hunger finds a treat,
Tis neceffary Wolves fhould eat.
If, mindful of the bleating weal.
Thy bofom burn with real zeal,
Hence, and thy tyrant lord befecch;
To him repeat the moving speech:
A Wolf eats fheep but now and then ;
Ten thoufands are devour'd by men.
An open foe may prove a curfe;
But a pretended friend is worse.

Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes ev'n his real courage doubted :
But flatt'ry never feems abfurd,
The flatter'd always take your word:
Impoflibilities feem juft;

They take the strongest praife on trust.
Hyperboles, tho' ne'er fo great,
Will ftill come fhort of felf-conceit.

So very like a painter drew,
That ev'ry eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So juft, the life itself was there.
No flatt'ry with his colours laid,
To bloom reftor'd the faded maid;
He gave each mufcle all its ftrength;
The mouth, the chin, the nofe's length
His honeft pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He loft his friends, his practice fail'd;
Truth fhould not always be reveal'd;
In dufty piles his pictures lay,
For no one fent the fecond pay.
Two buftos, fraught with ev'ry grace,
A Venus' and Apollo's face,
He plac'd in view; refolv'd to please
Whoever fat, he drew from thefe;
From these corrected ev'ry feature,
And fpirited each awkward creature.

All things were fet; the hour was come,
His pallet ready o'er his thumb,
My Lord appear'd; and, feated iight
In proper attitude and light,

The painter look'd, he fketch'd the piece,
Then dipp'd his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air;
Thofe eyes, my Lord, the spirit there
Might well a Raphael's hand require,
To give them all the native fire;
The features fraught with fenfe and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit ;
But yet with patience you fhall view
As much as paint and art can do.
Obferve the work. My Lord replied,
Till now I thought my mouth was wide;
Befides, my note is fomewhat long;
Dear Sir, for me 'tis far too young.

Oh pardon me! the artist cried,
In this the painters must decide.
The piece even common eyes must strike;
I warrant it extremely like.

My Lord examin'd it anew;
No looking-glafs feem'd half fo true.

A Lady came; with borrow'd grace
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!
To ev'ry age fome charm he lent;

nobody and every body.

LEST men fufpect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view.

The trav'ller leaping o'er those bounds, "The credit of his book confounds.

Thro' all the town his art they prais'd; His cuftom grew, his price was rais'd. Had he the real likeness fhewn, Would any man the picture own? But when thus happily he wrought, Each found the likenefs in his thought.

§ 130

§ 139. HOW fond are men of rule and place,

FABEE XIX. The Lion and the Cub.

Who court it from the mean and bafe!
These cannot bear an equal nigh,
But from fuperior merit fly.
They love the cellar's vulgar joke,
And lofe their hours in ale and fimoke,
There o'er fome petty club prefide;
So poor, fo paltry is their pride!
Nay, ev'n with fools whole nights will fit,
In hopes to be fupreme in wit.
If these can read, to thele I write,
To fet their worth in trueft light.
A Lion-cub, of fordid mind,
Avoided all the lion kind;
Fond of applaufe he fought the feasts
Of vulgar and ignoble beafts;
With affes all his time he fpent;
Their club's perpetual prefident.
He caught their manners, looks, and airs;
An afs in ev'ry thing but ears!
If e'er his highness meant a joke,
They grinn'd applaufe before he fpoke;
But at each word what shouts of praife!
Good gods! how natural he brays!

Elate with flatt'ry and conceit,
He feeks his royal fire's retreat ;
Forward, and fond to fhew his parts,
His highness brays; the Lion farts:
Puppy! that curs'd vociferation
Betrays thy life and converfation:
Coxcombs, an ever-noify race,
Are trumpets of their own difgrace.
Why fo fevere the Cub replies;
Our fenate always held me wife.

How weak is pride! returns the fire;
All fools are vain when fools admire!
But know, what ftupid affes prize,
Lions and noble beafts defpife.

§ 140. FABLE XX. The Old Hen and the Cock.
RESTRAIN your child; you'll foon believe
The text which fays, We fprung from Eve.'
As an old Hen led forth her train,
And feem'd to peck to fhew the grain;
She rak'd the chaff, the feratch'd the ground,
And glean'd the fpacious yard around.
A giddy chick, to try her wings,
On the well's narrow margin fprings,

And prone the drops. The mother's breaft
All day with forrow was poffeft.

A Cock the met; her fon the knew,
And in her heart affection grev.

My fon, fays fhe, I grant your years
Have reach'd beyond a mother's cares.
I fee you vig'rous, ftrong, and bold;
I hear with joy your triumphs told.
'Tis not from Cocks thy fate I dread;
But let thy ever-wary tread
Avoid yon well; the fatal place
Is fure perdition to our race.
Print this my counfel on thy breaft;
To the just gods I leave the reft.

He thank'd her care; yet day by day
His bofom burn'd to difobey;

And ev'ry time the well he faw,
Scorn'd in his heart the foolish law:
Near and more near cach day he drew,
And long'd to try the dang'rous view.

Why was this idle charge? he cries ;
Let courage female fears despise.
Or did the doubt my heart was brave,
And therefore this injunction gave?
Or does her harveft fiore the place,
A treasure for her
younger race?
And would the thus my fearch prevent?
I ftand refolv'd, and dare th' event.

Thus faid, he mounts the margin's round,
And pries into the depth profound.
He ftretch'd his neck; and from below
With ftretching neck advanc'd a foc :
With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears,
The foe with ruffled plumes appears:
Threat answer'd threat; his fury grew;
Headlong to meet the war he flew;
But when the wat'ry death he found,
He thus lamented as he drown'd:

I ne'er had been in this condition,
But for my mother's prohibition.

§ 141. FABLE XXI. The Rat-Catcher and Cais. THE rats by night fuch mischief did,

Betty was ev'ry morning chid:
They undermin'd whole fides of bacon;
Her chefe was fapp'd, her tarts were taken;
Her paftics, fenc'd with thickeft paste,
Were all demolish'd and laid wafte.
She curs'd the Cat for want of duty,
Who left her focs a conftant booty.
An Engineer of noted skill
Engag'd to ftop the growing ill.

From room to room he now furveys
Their haunts, their works, their fecret ways;
Finds where they feape an ambufcade,
And whence the nightly fally's made.

An envious Cat from place to place,
Unfeen, attends his filent pace.
She faw that, if his trade went on,
The purring race must be undone;
So fecretly removes his baits,
And ev'ry ftratagem defeats.

Again he fets the poifoa'd toils,
And Pufs again the labour foils.

"What foe (to fruftrate my designs) My fchemes thus nightly countermines?' Incens'd, he cries: "this very hour

"The wretch fhall bleed beneath my pow'r."
So faid-a pond'rous trap he brought,
And in the fact poer Pufs was caught.
"Smuggler," fays he, " thou shalt be made
"A victim to our lofs of trade."

The captive Cat, with pitcous mews,
For pardon, life, and freedom fues.
A fifter of the fcience fpare;
One int'reft is our common care.
"What infolence!" the man replied;
Shall Cats with us the game divide?

"Were