The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase Part 25

O impudence of power and might, Thus to condemn a hawk or kite, When thou, perhaps, carniv'rous sinner, Hadst pullets yesterday for dinner!'

_30 'Hold,' cried the clown, with pa.s.sion heated, 'Shall kites and men alike be treated?

When Heaven the world with creatures stored, Man was ordained their sovereign lord.'

'Thus tyrants boast,' the sage replied, 'Whose murders spring from power and pride.

Own then this man-like kite is slain Thy greater luxury to sustain; For "Petty rogues submit to fate, That great ones may enjoy their state."'[5]

_40

FABLE x.x.xVII.

THE FARMER'S WIFE AND THE RAVEN.

'Why are those tears? why droops your head?

Is then your other husband dead?

Or does a worse disgrace betide?

Hath no one since his death applied?'

'Alas! you know the cause too well: The salt is spilt, to me it fell.

Then, to contribute to my loss, My knife and fork were laid across; On Friday too! the day I dread!

Would I were safe at home in bed!

_10 Last night (I vow to heaven 'tis true) Bounce from the fire a coffin flew.

Next post some fatal news shall tell, G.o.d send my Cornish friends be well!'

'Unhappy widow, cease thy tears, Nor feel affliction in thy fears, Let not thy stomach be suspended; Eat now, and weep when dinner's ended; And when the butler clears the table, For thy desert, I'll read my fable.'

_20 Betwixt her swagging panniers' 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 tread, _30 Fell p.r.o.ne; o'erturned the pannier lay, And her mashed eggs bestrewed the way.

She, sprawling in the yellow road, Railed, swore and cursed: 'Thou croaking toad, A murrain take thy wh.o.r.eson 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; _40 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 his legs, And you, good woman, saved your eggs.'

FABLE x.x.xVIII.

THE TURKEY AND THE ANT.

In other men we faults can spy, And blame the mote that dims their eye, Each little speck and blemish find, To our own stronger errors blind.

A turkey, tired of common food, Forsook the barn, and sought the wood; Behind her ran her infant train, Collecting here and there a grain.

'Draw near, my birds,' the mother cries, 'This hill delicious fare supplies; _10 Behold, the busy negro race, See, millions blacken all the place!

Fear not. Like me with freedom eat; An ant is most delightful meat.

How bless'd, how envied were our life, Could we but 'scape the poulterer's knife!

But man, cursed man, on turkeys preys, And Christmas shortens all our days: Sometimes with oysters we combine, Sometimes a.s.sist the savoury chine.

_20 From the low peasant to the lord, The turkey smokes on every board.

Sure men for gluttony are cursed, Of the seven deadly sins the worst.'

An ant, who climbed beyond his reach, Thus answered from the neighbouring beech: 'Ere you remark another's sin, 27 Bid thy own conscience look within; Control thy more voracious bill, Nor for a breakfast nations kill.'

_30

FABLE x.x.xIX.

THE FATHER AND JUPITER.

The man to Jove his suit preferred; He begged a wife. His prayer was heard, Jove wondered at his bold addressing: For how precarious is the blessing!

A wife he takes. And now for heirs Again he worries heaven with prayers.

Jove nods a.s.sent. Two hopeful boys And a fine girl reward his joys.

Now, more solicitous he grew, And set their future lives in view; _10 He saw that all respect and duty Were paid to wealth, to power, and beauty.

'Once more,' he cries, 'accept my prayer; Make my loved progeny thy care.

Let my first hope, my favourite boy, All fortune's richest gifts enjoy.

My next with strong ambition fire: May favour teach him to aspire; Till he the step of power ascend, And courtiers to their idol bend.

_20 With every grace, with every charm, My daughter's perfect features arm.

If heaven approve, a father's bless'd.'

Jove smiles, and grants his full request.

The first, a miser at the heart, Studious of every griping art, Heaps h.o.a.rds on h.o.a.rds with anxious pain; And all his life devotes to gain.

He feels no joy, his cares increase, He neither wakes nor sleeps in peace; _30 In fancied want (a wretch complete) He starves, and yet he dares not eat.

The next to sudden honours grew: The thriving art of Courts he knew: He reached the height of power and place; Then fell, the victim of disgrace.

Beauty with early bloom supplies His daughter's cheek, and points her eyes.

The vain coquette each suit disdains, And glories in her lover's pains.

_40 With age she fades, each lover flies; Contemned, forlorn, she pines and dies.

When Jove the father's grief surveyed, And heard him Heaven and Fate upbraid, Thus spoke the G.o.d: 'By outward show, Men judge of happiness and woe: Shall ignorance of good and ill Dare to direct the eternal will?

Seek virtue; and, of that possess'd, To Providence resign the rest'

_50

FABLE XL.

THE TWO MONKEYS.

The learned, full of inward pride, The Fops of outward show deride: The Fop, with learning at defiance, Scoffs at the pedant, and the science: The Don, a formal, solemn strutter, Despises Monsieur's airs and flutter; While Monsieur mocks the formal fool, Who looks, and speaks, and walks by rule.

Britain, a medley of the twain, As pert as France, as grave as Spain; _10 In fancy wiser than the rest, Laughs at them both, of both the jest.

Is not the poet's chiming close Censured by all the sons of prose?

While bards of quick imagination Despise the sleepy prose narration.

Men laugh at apes, they men contemn; For what are we, but apes to them?

Two monkeys went to Southwark fair, No critics had a sourer air: _20 They forced their way through draggled folks, Who gaped to catch jack-pudding's jokes; Then took their tickets for the show, And got by chance the foremost row.

To see their grave, observing face, Provoked a laugh throughout the place.

'Brother,' says Pug, and turned his head, 'The rabble's monstrously ill bred.'

Now through the booth loud hisses ran; Nor ended till the show began.

_30 The tumbler whirls the flap-flap round, With somersets he shakes the ground; The cord beneath the dancer springs; Aloft in air the vaulter swings; Distorted now, now p.r.o.ne depends, Now through his twisted arms ascends: The crowd, in wonder and delight, With clapping hands applaud the sight.

With smiles, quoth Pug, 'If pranks like these The giant apes of reason please, _40 How would they wonder at our arts!

They must adore us for our parts.

High on the twig I've seen you cling; Play, twist and turn in airy ring: How can those clumsy things, like me, Fly with a bound from tree to tree?

But yet, by this applause, we find These emulators of our kind Discern our worth, our parts regard, Who our mean mimics thus reward.'

_50 'Brother,' the grinning mate replies, 'In this I grant that man is wise.

While good example they pursue, We must allow some praise is due; But when they strain beyond their guide, I laugh to scorn the mimic pride, For how fantastic is the sight, To meet men always bolt upright, Because we sometimes walk on two!

I hate the imitating crew.'