Aesop Dress'd; Or a collection of Fables Part 10

_The Lyon grown old._

A Valiant Lyon, now grown old, His Limbs and Jaws benumb'd and cold, Lay thinking on his Royal Bed, With scarce a Tooth in all his Head: And Claws worn to the Stumps with Tearing: (But every thing's the worse for wearing) And whilst he labour'd to repent, Complaining of his Youth mispent, His Rebel Subjects paid no more, That Honour, which they gave before, But treat him with Contempt and Scorn: The Bull does push him with his Horn, The Horse affronts him with his Heels: No Tongue can tell what grief he feels From these insulting Enemies.

In comes the a.s.s; but when he sees, That Coward too forget his Duty, He dying said, _Tu quoque Brute?_

_The two Physicians._

Two graduate Physicians, Of many Years Experience, With Coaches to proclaim their Skill, Are sent for to a Man that's ill.

One feels his Pulse and gives him over: But th' other says he may recover; I have great hopes, we'll give him some Of my _Ant.i.thanatic.u.m_.

No, cries the first, he is too weak; Yes truly Sir, I'm very sick, Replies the Patient; down they sate, And enter'd in a deep Debate: One quotes four Words of _Arabick_, Th' other an Aphorism in _Greek_.

They're very hot, and every one Sticks to his own Opinion.

The Upshot was, they writ a Bill, Which neither lik'd of very well: They visit him some Days, and vent Many a learned Argument; But as his Life went on full Speed, He could not stay till they agreed, And so march'd off; and when he's dead, Both still are in the right; one said, I told you so, his very Eye Prognosticated he would dye: And th' other cry'd, had I been believ'd, I'm very sure, he would have liv'd.

_Love and Folly._

The charming G.o.d, that with his Bow, So many Thousand Years ago, Came to that troublesome Employ, He serves in still, is but a Boy: His Art is so mysterious, That to explain his business, His Tackle, Arrows, Quiver, Taper, Would take up several Reams of Paper; Which being more than I've a mind To fill; I'll only, since he is blind, Tell you which way he lost his sight, With what came on't, and so good Night.

Folly and Love took one another Aside, as Boys will run together, And crept into a Nook of Heaven, To play at Seven or Eleven; And here good People, Gamesters may Behold what mischief comes from Play: There 'rose a quarrel about the Main, Its Eight says Love, and thought 'twas plain; Quoth Folly, but I'm sure 'tis Nine, You Little Cheat, the Game is mine: At last Words growing very high, Love gives his angry Foe the Lie; Then up starts Folly, flings the Dice At Love, and beats out both his Eyes.

_Venus_ would be reveng'd, bawl'd out, And shed so many Tears about The Peepers of her little Son, That she was like to have spoil'd her own.

She would have Justice done, she swore, Call'd Folly Rogue and Son 'f a Wh.o.r.e: How did you do't; I'll make you dance?

Indeed said Folly, 'twas by chance.

Cry'd _Cupid_, you're a punning Cur, And sn.o.bb'd. In comes the Thunderer, With all the G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, To sit upon the Business, Between Love and the Boy at Bar.

The Cuckold and the G.o.d of War Were very hot, they'd have him dye; But when _Minerva_ ask'd him, Why?

They said, because----Be free from rage, Ye G.o.ds, said _Themis_, mind his Age, And then the Council seem'd to incline To make him only pay a Fine To Love. But the injur'd Mother cries, That won't do, I'll have both his Eyes, _Secundum legem Talionis_, He shall pay _Corpore non bonis_.

_Apollo_ bids her to be civil.

T'have two blind Boys would be the Devil, Said _Juno_, and this gave the hint To _Jove_, t'inflinct a Punishment, That might ease Love; what must he do?

He could not walk alone; and so 'Twas fixed by all the G.o.ds above, That Folly should be guide to Love.

_A She-Goat, a Sheep and a Sow._

A She-Goat that gave exc'lent Milk, A Sheep, whose Fleece was soft as Silk, And a fat Sow went to the Fair In the same Cart, not to take th' Air, Or to see Shows; but, as I am told, Downright in order to be sold; All the way long the Sow did squawl, And scream enough to deafen 'em all; Had she been follow'd by six score Butchers, she could have done no more: The other Creatures wonder'd at her, And could not dream what was the matter; They thought it must proceed from fear; And yet perceived no danger near; The Carter told her, What d'ye mean?

Who gives you reason to complain?

Your Cries have stunn'd us; what d'ye make This horrid Noise for? prithee take Example by your Company, Be silent or talk civilly.

Look on that Sheep, he thinks you're mad; Has he spoke one Word good or bad?

No: He is wise.----The Devil he is, Replies the Sow, could he but guess, Whither you carry us, or why; I'm sure he'd bawl as loud as I: He's used to Shears, and so the Fool Thinks only that you'll take his Wool; And this good Lady with the Beard Has no great Cause to be afear'd; She's daily milk'd and does depend on't, you'll drain her Dug, and there's an end on't: And 't maybe so, or 't may be not: But, wou'd you have me such a sot, Who 'm good for nothing, whilst I've Breath, To be afraid of less than Death?

The Moral.

_Upon my Word 'twas shrewdly said, Of one that was no better bred: Yes all this sad complaints and fear Are for the Thing she's forced to bear: And tho' she knew, she was to dye, She could not change her destiny.

Therefore I think, where all is lost, He, that sees farthest, suffers most._

_The Dog and the a.s.s._

Help one another is, no doubt, A Law we can't live well without: Yet one Day, (and how't came to pa.s.s I don't know) 't happen'd that an a.s.s, Who's otherwise an honest Creature, Of no uncharitable Nature, Did slight it: A large Dog and he Were travelling in Company, Without a thought of Strife or Care, Followed by him whose Goods they were; And coming to some curious Gra.s.s, The latter went to sleep; his a.s.s, Who was a Lover of good Pasture, Made better use on't than his Master, And fell a feeding heartily: But the poor Dog stood starving by, And said, Much good may do thy heart, Dear fellow Traveller; thou art My loving Friend.--But Mr. _Gray_, My Meat is in your Panier, pray, Stoop down, and let me take out some, I han't eat since we came from home; He gets no Answer, asks again, But No, th' _Arcadian_ Gentleman Thought every Word a mouthful lost, And would say nothing to his cost, So held his Tongue a while; at last He told him, Friend, I am in haste, And, when I stoop my Back, it akes; Have patience till your Master wakes, It won't be long, and then you'll get Your Belly full, if he thinks fit.

Just then a Wolf came from the Wood, And they have Appet.i.tes as good As any; Grizz'l at a distance Hears him, and asks the Dog's a.s.sistance; But he don't budge, and serves him right; Says he, I never us'd to fight Without a cause for fighting's sake; Stay till your Master is awake; Hear what he says, it won't be long; Sir Wolf won't offer any wrong; And if you fear his Teeth or Claws, Knock but his Brains out, break his Jaws, And lay him sprawling on the Ground; You're newly Shod, and Iron bound; And whilst this fine Discourse went on, Poor Grizzle's business was done.

The Moral.

_None can live happily together, Without a.s.sisting one another._

_The Fox and Wolf._

The Fox went on the search one Night, The Moon had hung out all her light; He sees her Image in a Well; But what it was he could not tell; Gets on the Bricks to look at ease: At last concludes it is a Cheese: One Bucket's down, the other up, He jumps in that which was a-top, And coming to the Water, sees How little Skill he had in Cheese.

Poor Ren, remov'd from all Acquaintance, Sits in the Bucket of Repentance; And when the Rascal ought to have laid The fault upon himself, it's said, He blam'd his Stars, tho' I b'lieve rather He curst the Moon, and all fair Weather.

Well, there he sat, and wish'd, no doubt on't, For half his Tail that he was out on't: Sometimes he rav'd and talk'd like mad, } And every thing came in his Head, } That to his purpose could be said. } Happy are those that don't love Cheese; We may go downward when we please, But to come back again, _hoc opus_, All tricks are vain; my only hope is, That Somebody as wise as I, Hits on my Whim, or else I die.

Two Days are past; poor Animal, Sees n.o.body come near the Well; And now old Time had in one Place, Cut a good piece of _Cynthia's_ Face; For as he does all things, he eats her, And takes a slice, where'er he meets her: _Volpone_ spies it, and it grieved him, To see that spoil'd which had deceiv'd him, Thinking his case was desperate: When on the third Night pretty late, A Wolf who could not sleep, because He felt an itching in his Jaws, Look'd into it; What are you there?

Says Ren; pray see what I got here; It is a groaning Cheese, 'twas made From _Io's_ Milk, and _Faunus_ had The ordering of it, 'twould have been Kept for Dame _Juno's_ Lying in, But she miscarry'd: I took off This Corner; still there's Meat enough For two or three, I thought on you, Wish'd I might see you, and to shew, How I esteem, love, and adore ye, That Bucket's left on purpose for ye.

The silly Wolf believes, gets in, And draws _Volpene_ up again.

The Moral.

_Don't blame the stupid Animal, You credit things less probable; And most Men easily give ear, To what they either wish or fear._

_FINIS._

THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

_WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY_

University of California, Los Angeles