Chapter 16

A Bear with whom a Piedmontese Had voyaged from the Polar seas, And by whose strange unwieldy gambols He earned a living in his rambles, One day, upon his hind legs set, Began to dance a minuet. At length, being tired, as well he might, Of standing such a time upright, He to a Monkey near advancing, Exclaimed: "What think you of my dancing?" "Really," he said, "ahem!" (I'm sure This Monkey was a connoisseur) "To praise it, I'd indeed be glad, Only it is so very bad!" "How!" said the Bear, not over pleased, "Surely, your judgment is diseased, Or else you cannot well have seen My elegance of step and mien; Just look again, and say what graces You think are wanting in my paces." "Indeed, his taste is quite amazing," Replied a Pig with rapture gazing; "Bravo! encore! well done! Sir Bear, By heaven, you trip as light as air; I vow that Paris never knew A dancer half so fine as you."

With some confusion, Bruin heard Such praises by a Pig conferred; He communed with himself a while, And muttered thus, in altered style: "I must confess the Monkey's blame Made me feel doubtful of my fame; But since the Pigs their praise concede, My dancing must be bad, indeed!"

The Muff, the Fan, and the Parasol

"It sounds presumptuous and ill To boast of universal skill, But 'tis a scarce less fault, I own, To serve one sort of use alone." An idle Parasol, one day, Within a lady's chamber lay, And having nothing else to do, Addressing his companions two, Reclining near, a Muff and Fan, He thus insultingly began, Using a form of dialect, In which, if Aesop is correct, The Brass and Earthern Jars, of old, Conversed as down the stream they rolled. "Oh! sirs, ye merit mighty praise! Yon Muff may do for wintry days, A corner is your lot in spring; While you, Fan, are a useless thing When cold succeeds to heat; for neither Can change yourself to suit the weather Learn, if you're able to possess, Like me a double usefulness, From winter's rain I help to shun And guard in summer from the sun."

The Duck and the Serpent

A self-conceited Duck, one day, Was waddling from her pond away: "What other race can boast," she cried, "The many gifts to ours allied? Earth--water--air--are all for us. When I am tired of walking thus, I fly, if so I take the whim, Or if it pleases me I swim." A cunning Serpent overheard The boasting of the clumsy bird, And, with contempt and scorn inflamed, Came hissing up, and thus exclaimed: "It strikes me, ma'am, there's small occasion For your just uttered proclamation; These gifts of yours shine rather dim, Since neither like the trout you swim, Nor like the deer, step swift and light, Nor match the eagle in your flight." They err who think that merit clings To knowledge slight of many things; He who his fellows would excel, Whate'er he does should do it well.

The Tea and the Sage

The Tea from China on her way, Met in some sea, or gulf, or bay-- (Would to her log I might refer!) The Sage, who thus accosted her: "Sister--ahoy! ho--whither bound?" "I leave," she said, "my native ground For Europe's markets, where, I'm told, They purchase me by weight of gold." "And I," the Sage replied, "am seeking The route to Canton or to Peking; Your Chinese use me largely in Their cookery and medicine; They know my virtues, nor deny The praise I ask, however high, While Europe scorns me, just indeed, As if I was the vilest weed. Go; and good luck t'ye; know full well That you are sure enough to sell, For nations all, (fools that they are!) Value whatever comes from afar, And give their money nothing loth, For anything of foreign growth."

The Swan and the Linnet

Piqued at the Linnet's song one day, The Swan exclaimed: "Leave off! I say-- Be still, you little noisy thing! What!--dare _you_ challenge me to sing, When there's no voice, however fine, Can match the melody of mine?" (The Linnet warbled on)--"D'ye hear? This impudence may cost you dear; I could with one harmonious note Forever stop your squeaking throat, And, if I do not choose to try, Respect my magnanimity." "I wish," at length the Linnet said, "I wish, to heaven, the proof were made; You cannot imagine how I long To hear that rich and flowing song Which though so sweet, by fame averred, I know not who has ever heard."

The Swan essayed to sing, but--whew! She screeched and squalled a note or two, Until the Linnet, it appears, Took to her wings to save her ears. 'Tis strange when some of learned fame _Will_ prove their title to the name, How often ill-placed praise they mar, And show how ignorant they are.

The Flint and the Steel

The Flint, with language harsh and high, Accused the Steel of cruelty In striking her with all his might, Whene'er he wanted fire and light. The Steel the imputation spurned, And with such warmth the contest burned That both, at last, agreed to slip Their contract of companionship. "Good-by then, madame," said the one; "And since my company you shun, And to continue with me, doubt, We'll see what use you are without." "About as much as you will be, Good sir," she answered, "without me."

FABLES OF GAY, COWPER, AND OTHERS

"Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame If men in morals are the same? I no man call or ape or ass; 'Tis his own conscience holds the glass. Thus void of all offence I write; Who claims the fable, knows his right."

JOHN GAY

FABLES OF GAY AND COWPER

The Monkey Who Had Seen the World

A Monkey, to reform the times, Resolved to visit foreign climes; For men in distant regions roam, To bring politer manners home. So forth he fares, all toil defies; Misfortune serves to make us wise. At length the treacherous snare was laid; Poor Pug was caught, to town conveyed; There sold. 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 toilette calls, with mimic play He twirls her knot, he cracks her fan, Like any other gentleman. In visits, too, his parts and wit, When jests grew dull, were sure to hit. Proud with applause, he thought his mind In every courtly art refined; Like Orpheus, burned with public zeal To civilize the monkey weal: So watched occasion, broke his chain, And sought his native woods again. The hairy sylvans round him press Astonished at his strut and dress. Some praise his sleeve, and others gloat Upon his rich embroidered coat; His dapper periwig commending, With the black tail behind depending; His powdered back above, below, Like hoary frost or fleecy snow: But all, with envy and desire, His fluttering shoulder-knot admire. "Hear and improve," he pertly cries, "I come to make a nation wise. Weigh your own worth, support your place, The next in rank to human race. In cities long I passed my days, Conversed with men, and learned their ways, Their dress, their courtly manners see; Reform your state, and copy me. Seek ye to thrive? in flatt'ry deal; Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal. Seem only to regard your friends, But use them for your private ends. Stint not to truth the flow of wit; Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit. Bend all your force to spatter merit; Scandal is conversation's spirit. Boldly to everything pretend, And men your talents shall commend. I know the Great. Observe me right, So shall you grow like man polite." He spoke and bowed. With mutt'ring jaws The wond'ring circle grinned applause. Now, warmed with malice, envy, spite, Their most obliging friends they bite; And, fond to copy human ways, Practise new mischiefs all their days. Thus the dull lad, too tall for school. With travel finishes the fool: Studious of every coxcomb's airs, He gambles, dresses, drinks, and swears; O'er looks with scorn all virtuous arts, For vice is fitted to his parts.

JOHN GAY

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 secure he lay, The thefts of night regal'd the day. In vain the shepherd's wakeful care Had spread the toils, and watch'd the snare; In vain the Dog pursued his pace, The fleeter robber mock'd the chase. As Lightfoot rang'd the forest round, By chance his foe's retreat he found. "Let us a while the war suspend, And reason as from friend to friend." "A truce?" replies the Wolf. "'Tis done." The Dog the parley thus begun. "How can that strong intrepid mind Attack a weak defenceless kind? Those jaws should prey on nobler food, And drink the boar's and lion's blood, Great souls with generous pity melt, Which coward tyrants never felt. How harmless is our fleecy care! Be brave, and let thy mercy spare." "Friend," says the Wolf, "the matter weigh; Nature designed us beasts of prey; As such, when hunger finds a treat, 'Tis necessary Wolves should eat. If mindful of the bleating weal, Thy bosom burn with real zeal, Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech; To him repeat the moving speech: A Wolf eats sheep but now and then; Ten thousands are devoured by men. An open foe may prove a curse, But a pretended friend is worse."

JOHN GAY

The Rat-catcher and Cats

The rats by night such mischief did, Betty was ev'ry morning chid. They undermin'd whole sides of bacon, Her cheese was sapp'd, her tarts were taken. Her pasties, fenc'd with thickest paste, Were all demolish'd, and laid waste. She curs'd the cat for want of duty, Who left her foes a constant booty. An Engineer, of noted skill, Engag'd to stop the growing ill. From room to room he now surveys Their haunts, their works, their secret ways; Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade. And whence the nightly sally's made. An envious Cat from place to place, Unseen, attends his silent pace. She saw, that if his trade went on, The purring race must be undone; So, secretly removes his baits, And ev'ry stratagem defeats. Again he sets the poisoned toils, And Puss again the labour foils. "What foe, to frustrate my designs, My schemes thus nightly countermines?" Incens'd, he cries: "This very hour This wretch shall bleed beneath my power." So said, a ponderous trap he brought, And in the fact poor Puss was caught. "Smuggler," says he, "thou shalt be made A victim to our loss of trade." The captive Cat, with piteous mews, For pardon, life, and freedom sues. "A sister of the science spare; One int'rest is our common care." "What insolence!" the man replies; "Shall Cats with us the game divide? Were all your interloping band Extinguished, or expell'd the land, We Rat-catchers might raise our fees. Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!" A Cat, who saw the lifted knife, Thus spoke and sav'd her sister's life. "In ev'ry age and clime we see Two of a trade can ne'er agree. Each hates his neighbour for encroaching; 'Squire stigmatizes 'squire for poaching; Beauties with beauties are in arms. And scandal pelts each other's charms; Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone, In hope to make the world their own. But let us limit our desires; Not war like beauties, kings, and 'squires! For though we both one prey pursue, There's game enough for us and you."

JOHN GAY

The Farmer's Wife and the Raven

Between her swaggering pannier's 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 head, Fell prone; o'erturned the panniers lay, And her mashed eggs bestrewed the way. She, sprawling on the yellow road, Railed, cursed, and swore: "Thou croaking toad, A murrain take thy noisy 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; 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 her legs, And you, good woman, saved your eggs."

JOHN GAY

The Council of Horses

Upon a time, a neighing steed, Who grazed among a numerous breed, With mutiny had fired the train, And spread dissension through the plain. On matters that concerned the state The Council met in grand debate. A Colt, whose eyeballs flamed with ire, Elate with strength and youthful fire, In haste stepped forth before the rest, And thus the listening throng addressed:

"Good gods! how abject is our race, Condemned to slavery and disgrace! Shall we our servitude retain Because our sires have borne the chain? Consider, friends, your strength and might; 'Tis conquest to assert your right. How cumb'rous is the gilded coach! The pride of man is our reproach. Were we designed for daily toil; To drag the ploughshare through the soil; To sweat in harness through the road; To groan beneath the carrier's load? How feeble are the two-legged kind! What force is in our nerves combined! Shall, then, our nobler jaws submit To foam, and champ the galling bit? Shall haughty man my back bestride? Shall the sharp spur provoke my side? Forbid it, heavens! Reject the rein; Your shame, your infamy, disdain. Let him the lion first control, And still the tiger's famished growl; Let us, like them, our freedom claim, And make him tremble at our name."

A general nod approved the cause, And all the circle neighed applause, When, lo! with grave and solemn face, A Steed advanced before the race, With age and long experience wise; Around he cast his thoughtful eyes, And to the murmurs of the train Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain: "When I had health and strength like you, The toils of servitude I knew; Now grateful man rewards my pains, And gives me all these wide domains. At will I crop the year's increase; My latter life is rest and peace. I grant, to man we lend our pains, And aid him to correct the plains; But doth he not divide the care Through all the labours of the year? How many thousand structures rise To fence us from inclement skies! For us he bears the sultry day, And stores up all our winter's hay: He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain, We share the toil and share the grain. Since every creature was decreed To aid each other's mutual need, Appease your discontented mind, And act the part by Heaven assigned." The tumult ceased. The colt submitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

JOHN GAY

The Hare and Many Friends

Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame; The child whom many fathers share Hath seldom known a father's care. 'Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare, who in a civil way Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the bestial train Who haunt the wood or graze the plain; Her care was never to offend, And every creature was her friend. As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath; She hears the near advance of death; She doubles to mislead the Hound, And measures back her mazy round, Till, fainting in the public way, Half dead with fear she gasping lay. What transport in her bosom grew When first the Horse appeared in view! "Let me," says she, "your back ascend. And owe my safety to a friend. You know my feet betray my flight; To friendship every burden's light," The Horse replied, "Poor honest Puss, It grieves my heart to see you thus: Be comforted, relief is near, For all your friends are in the rear." She next the stately Bull implored; And thus replied the mighty lord: "Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well, I may without offence pretend To take the freedom of a friend. Love calls me hence; a fav'rite Cow Expects me near the barley-mow, And when a lady's in the case You know all other things give place. To leave you thus might seem unkind; But see, the Goat is just behind." The Goat remarked her pulse was high, Her languid head, her heavy eye. "My back," says she, "may do you harm. The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm." The Sheep was feeble, and complained His sides a load of wool sustained: Said he was slow, confessed his fears; For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares. She now the trotting Calf addressed To save from death a friend distressed. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler passed you by-- How strong are those; how weak am I! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offence; Excuse me, then; you know my heart, But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu! For see, the Hounds are just in view."

JOHN GAY

The Nightingale and the Glowworm

A Nightingale, that all day long Had cheered the village with his song, Nor had at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the Glowworm by his spark; So stepping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The Worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent: "Did you admire my lamp," quoth he, "As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song; For, 'twas the self-same Power Divine Taught you to sing and me to shine; That you with music, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night." The Songster heard his short oration, And warbling out his approbation. Released him, as my story tells, And found a supper somewhere else. Hence, jarring sectaries may learn Their real interest to discern, That brother should not war with brother, And worry and devour each other; But sing and shine by sweet consent, Until life's poor transient night is spent. Respecting in each other's case. The gifts of Nature and of Grace.

Those Christians best deserve the name Who studiously make peace their aim; Peace both the duty and the prize Of him that creeps and him that flies.

WILLIAM COWPER

The Raven

A Raven, while with glossy breast Her new-laid eggs she fondly pressed, And on her wickerwork high mounted, Her chickens prematurely counted, (A fault philosophers might blame If quite exempted from the same). Enjoyed at ease the genial day; 'Twas April, as the bumpkins say; The legislature called it May. But suddenly a wind, as high As ever swept a winter sky, Shook the young leaves about her ears And filled her with a thousand fears, Lest the rude blast should snap the bough, And spread her golden hopes below. But just at eve the blowing weather Changed, and her fears were hushed together: "And now," quoth poor unthinking Ralph,[1] "'Tis over, and the brood is safe." (For Ravens, though, as birds of omen, They teach both conjurers and old women To tell us what is to befall, Can't prophesy themselves at all.) The morning came, when Neighbour Hodge, Who long had marked her airy lodge, And destined all the treasure there A gift to his expecting fair, Climbed, like a squirrel to his dray, And bore the worthless prize away.

Moral

'Tis Providence alone secures, In every change, both mine and yours: Safety consists not in escape From dangers of a frightful shape; An earthquake may be bid to spare The man that's strangled by a hair. Fate steals along with silent tread Found oftenest in what least we dread, Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow.

WILLIAM COWPER

[1]Pronounced Rafe.

Pairing Time Anticipated

I shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau If birds confabulate or no; 'Tis clear that they were always able To hold discourse, at least in fable; And e'en the child who knows no better Than to interpret by the letter A story of a cock and bull Must have a most uncommon skull. It chanced then on a winter day, But warm and bright and calm as May, The Birds conceiving a design To forestall sweet Saint Valentine, In many an orchard, copse and grove, Assembled on affairs of love, And with much twitter, and much chatter, Began to agitate the matter. At length a Bullfinch, who could boast More years and wisdom than the most, Entreated, opening wide his beak, A moment's liberty to speak; And silence publicly enjoined, Delivered, briefly, thus his mind-- "My friends! Be cautious how ye treat The subject upon which we meet; I fear we shall have winter yet."

A Finch, whose tongue knew no control, With golden wing and satin poll, A last year's bird who ne'er had tried What marriage means, thus pert replied: "Methinks the gentleman," quoth she, "Opposite in the appletree, By his good will would keep us single, Until yonder heavens and earth shall mingle, Or (which is likelier to befall) Until death exterminate us all. I marry without more ado, My dear Dick Redcap; what say you?"

Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling; With many a strut and many a sidling, Attested, glad, his approbation Of an immediate conjugation. Their sentiments so well expressed Influenced mightily the rest; All paired, and each pair built a nest.

But though the birds were thus in haste, The leaves came on not quite so fast, And Destiny, that sometimes bears An aspect stern on man's affairs, Not altogether smiled on theirs. The wind, of late breathed gently forth, Now shifted east and east by north; Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know, Could shelter them from rain or snow; Stepping into their nests, they paddled, Themselves were chilled, their eggs were addled, Soon every father-bird and mother Grew quarrelsome and pecked each other, Parted without the least regret, Except that they had ever met, And learned in future to be wiser Than to neglect a good adviser.

WILLIAM COWPER

The Poet, the Oyster, and Sensitive Plant