The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase Part 24

To power he rose. Again the sprite Besets him, morning, noon, and night!

Talks of ambition's tottering seat, How envy persecutes the great, Of rival hate, of treacherous friends, And what disgrace his fall attends.

The Court he quits to fly from Care, And seeks the peace of rural air: _50 His groves, his fields, amused his hours; He pruned his trees, he raised his flowers.

But Care again his steps pursues; Warns him of blasts, of blighting dews, Of plund'ring insects, snails, and rains, And droughts that starved the laboured plains.

Abroad, at home, the spectre's there: In vain we seek to fly from Care.

At length he thus the ghost address'd: 'Since thou must be my constant guest, _60 Be kind, and follow me no more; For Care by right should go before.'

FABLE x.x.xII.

THE TWO OWLS AND THE SPARROW.

Two formal owls together sat, Conferring thus in solemn chat: 'How is the modern taste decayed!

Where's the respect to wisdom paid?

Our worth the Grecian sages knew; They gave our sires the honour due; They weighed the dignity of fowls, And pried into the depth of owls.

Athens, the seat of learned fame, With general voice revered our name; _10 On merit, t.i.tle was conferred, And all adored the Athenian bird.'

'Brother, you reason well,' replies The solemn mate, with half-shut eyes; 'Right. Athens was the seat of learning, And truly wisdom is discerning.

Besides, on Pallas' helm we sit, The type and ornament of wit: But now, alas! we're quite neglected, And a pert sparrow's more respected.'

_20 A sparrow, who was lodged beside, O'erhears them soothe each other's pride, And thus he nimbly vents his heat: 'Who meets a fool must find conceit.

I grant, you were at Athens graced, And on Minerva's helm were placed; But every bird that wings the sky, Except an owl, can tell you why.

From hence they taught their schools to know How false we judge by outward show; _30 That we should never looks esteem, Since fools as wise as you might seem.

Would ye contempt and scorn avoid, Let your vain-glory be destroyed: Humble your arrogance of thought, Pursue the ways by Nature taught; So shall you find delicious fare, And grateful farmers praise your care: So shall sleek mice your chase reward, And no keen cat find more regard.'

_40

FABLE x.x.xIII.

THE COURTIER AND PROTEUS.

Whene'er a courtier's out of place The country shelters his disgrace; Where, doomed to exercise and health, His house and gardens own his wealth, He builds new schemes in hopes to gain The plunder of another reign; Like Philip's son, would fain be doing, And sighs for other realms to ruin.

As one of these (without his wand) Pensive, along the winding strand _10 Employed the solitary hour, In projects to regain his power; The waves in spreading circles ran, Proteus arose, and thus began: 'Came you from Court? For in your mien A self-important air is seen.

He frankly owned his friends had tricked him And how he fell his party's victim.

'Know,' says the G.o.d, 'by matchless skill I change to every shape at will; _20 But yet I'm told, at Court you see Those who presume to rival me.'

Thus said. A snake with hideous trail, Proteus extends his scaly mail.

'Know,' says the man, 'though proud in place, All courtiers are of reptile race.

Like you, they take that dreadful form, Bask in the sun, and fly the storm; With malice hiss, with envy gloat, And for convenience change their coat; _30 With new-got l.u.s.tre rear their head, Though on a dunghill born and bred.'

Sudden the G.o.d a lion stands; He shakes his mane, he spurns the sands; Now a fierce lynx, with fiery glare, A wolf, an a.s.s, a fox, a bear.

'Had I ne'er lived at Court,' he cries, 'Such transformation might surprise; But there, in quest of daily game, Each able courtier acts the same.

_40 Wolves, lions, lynxes, while in place, Their friends and fellows are their chase.

They play the bear's and fox's part; Now rob by force, now steal with art.

They sometimes in the senate bray; Or, changed again to beasts of prey, Down from the lion to the ape, Practise the frauds of every shape.'

So said, upon the G.o.d he flies, In cords the struggling captive ties.

_50 'Now, Proteus, now, (to truth compelled) Speak, and confess thy art excelled.

Use strength, surprise, or what you will, The courtier finds evasions still: Not to be bound by any ties, And never forced to leave his lies.'

FABLE x.x.xIV.

THE MASTIFFS.

Those who in quarrels interpose, Must often wipe a b.l.o.o.d.y nose.

A mastiff, of true English blood, Loved fighting better than his food.

When dogs were snarling for a bone, He longed to make the war his own, And often found (when two contend) To interpose obtained his end; He gloried in his limping pace; The scars of honour seamed his face; _10 In every limb a gash appears, And frequent fights retrenched his ears.

As, on a time, he heard from far Two dogs engaged in noisy war, Away he scours and lays about him, Resolved no fray should be without him.

Forth from his yard a tanner flies, And to the bold intruder cries: 'A cudgel shall correct your manners, Whence sprung this cursed hate to tanners?

_20 While on my dog you vent your spite, Sirrah! 'tis me you dare not bite.'

To see the battle thus perplexed, With equal rage a butcher vexed, Hoa.r.s.e-screaming from the circled crowd, To the cursed mastiff cries aloud: 'Both Hockley-hole and Mary-bone The combats of my dog have known.

He ne'er, like bullies coward-hearted, Attacks in public, to be parted.

_30 Think not, rash fool, to share his fame: Be his the honour, or the shame.'

Thus said, they swore, and raved like thunder; Then dragged their fastened dogs asunder; While clubs and kicks from every side Rebounded from the mastiff's hide.

All reeking now with sweat and blood, Awhile the parted warriors stood, Then poured upon the meddling foe; Who, worried, howled and sprawled below.

_40 He rose; and limping from the fray, By both sides mangled, sneaked away.

FABLE x.x.xV.

THE BARLEY-MOW AND THE DUNGHILL.

How many saucy airs we meet From Temple Bar to Aldgate Street!

Proud rogues, who shared the South-Sea prey, And sprung like mushrooms in a day!

They think it mean, to condescend To know a brother or a friend; They blush to hear their mother's name, And by their pride expose their shame.

As cross his yard, at early day, A careful farmer took his way, _10 He stopped, and leaning on his fork, Observed the flail's incessant work.

In thought he measured all his store, His geese, his hogs, he numbered o'er; In fancy weighed the fleeces shorn, And multiplied the next year's corn.

A Barley-mow, which stood beside, Thus to its musing master cried: 'Say, good sir, is it fit or right To treat me with neglect and slight?

_20 Me, who contribute to your cheer, And raise your mirth with ale and beer?

Why thus insulted, thus disgraced, And that vile dunghill near me placed?

Are those poor sweepings of a groom, That filthy sight, that nauseous fume, Meet objects here? Command it hence: A thing so mean must give offence'

The humble dunghill thus replied: 'Thy master hears, and mocks thy pride: _30 Insult not thus the meek and low; In me thy benefactor know; My warm a.s.sistance gave thee birth, Or thou hadst perished low in earth; But upstarts, to support their station, Cancel at once all obligation.'

FABLE x.x.xVI.

PYTHAGORAS AND THE COUNTRYMAN.

Pythag'ras rose at early dawn, By soaring meditation drawn, To breathe the fragrance of the day, Through flowery fields he took his way.

In musing contemplation warm, His steps misled him to a farm, Where, on the ladder's topmost round, A peasant stood; the hammer's sound Shook the weak barn. 'Say, friend, what care Calls for thy honest labour there?'

_10 The clown, with surly voice replies, 'Vengeance aloud for justice cries.

This kite, by daily rapine fed, My hens' annoy, my turkeys' dread, At length his forfeit life has paid; See on the wall his wings displayed, Here nailed, a terror to his kind, My fowls shall future safety find; My yard the thriving poultry feed, And my barn's refuse fat the breed.'

_20 'Friend,' says the sage, 'the doom is wise; For public good the murderer dies.

But if these tyrants of the air Demand a sentence so severe, Think how the glutton man devours; What b.l.o.o.d.y feasts regale his hours!