AESOP In Select FABLES.  
VIZ. 

I. At Tunbridge.  
II. At .  
III. At Epsom.  
iv At Whitehall.  
V From Tunbridge.  
VI At Amsterdam.    
WITH A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Bow-Steeple DRAGON, And the Exchange GRASSHOPPER.  
LONDON, Printed and are to be Sold by most Booksellers in London and Westminster, 1698.   

To the Reader.  
RIding, of late, to take a little Are, and crossing by some chance the Tunbridge-Road, it was my fortune to find a parcel of Papers, which were doubtless dropped by some unwary Passenger, who had made more Haste than good Speed; and taking them up, I found they were the following Fables: which, I imagine, some Young Gentleman of Wit and Leisure, had diverted himself in composing, whilst he was obliged to drink the Waters. The Entertainment they gave me and my Friends, made me think of making them Public; and considering the Nature of them, and that they were very fairly Written, it is not at all unlikely that the Author had designed them for the Press himself. There are but two little Reasons to the contrary, which may be also soon answered; First, That they are too small to make a Book; the Second, That some of the Fables are too bold, and might expose the Author to some Danger or Displeasure. As to the first Objection, Whoever would be sure of Pleasing must not be tedious; it happens but to a few great Books to be read through; and many good Authors have defeated their own purpose of instructing the World, by frightening the Reader with Three or four hundred Pages: But besides, the Nature of such a Work as this, requires that the Reader be never cloyed, but always kept in good Humour and good Appetite, which a long work could hardly do; and 10 or 12 Morals are enough to amuse the Mind, and keep it exercised a good while. But, after all, it may be there were many Fables more intended to follow these and then I have nothing to say, but that these were all I found, and thought they were too many to be lost to the Public. To the other Objection, the Author having nothing to answer; for they are published, if not without his Will, yet without his Knowledge. But should it be granted that one or two Fables are a little too old and angry, yet since there is some Foundation for such sort of Muttering and Complaints from whence can our Rulers learn these Truths more inoffencively, than from such little Stories? They will not, perhaps, attend so easily to wise and good Men as they will to Foxes and Asses; and wise and good Men will not, it may be, dare to tell those Truths these Beasts deliver, which yet our Governors should know.  
I will not altogether excuse the Exaggeration of Matters in the Twelfth Fable; for tho' our Bargain be dear enough; yet I can't tell what we should have done without it; and Things, I hope will mend upon our hands, in good time.   

AESOP AT TUNBRIDGE.  

FAB. I. Fair Warning.  
IN Aesop's new-made World of Wit,  
Where Beasts could talk, and read, and writ  
And say and do as he saw fit:  
A certain Fellow thought himself abused,  
And represented by an Ass;  
And Aesop to the Judge accused  
That he defamed was.  
Friend, quoth the Judge, how do you know  
Whether you are defamed or no?  
How can you prove that he must mean  
You, rather than another Man?  
Sir, quoth the Man, it needs must be,  
All Circumstances so agree,  
And all the Neighbours say 'tis Me.  
That's somewhat, quoth the Judge, indeed,  
But let this Matter pass;  
Since 'twas not Aesop, 'tis agreed,  
But Application made the Ass.   

FAB. II. The Cock and Pearl.  
A Dunghill Cock was raking in the Ground,  
And flirted up a Pearl;  
I would, quoth he, thou hadst been found  
By some great Lord or Earl.  
Myself a single Barleycorn  
Would, surely, rather find:  
We Creatures that are dull, Earthborn,  
Things only useful mind.  
Whilst they who are divinely Wise,  
And do from Jove proceed,  
Thy lovely orient Lustre prize.  
And for thy Beauty trade.   

FAB. III. Of the Horse and Ass.  

A Horse and Ass were journeying on their way;  
The Horse was only harnessed, light, and gay;  
The Ass was heavy loaden, and lagged behind,  
And thus, at length, bespoke his Friend.  
Companion, take some pity on my State,  
And case me but of half my Weight.  
Half will to you no burden be,  
And yet a mighty help to me.  
The Horse laughed loud, and shook his Head,  
And wantonly curvetting said;  
Signior, we Horses never choose  
The Burdens that we can refuse;  
And should such Jest upon me pass,  
Methinks I should be but an Ass.  
The Ass quite spent, and vexed to be denied,  
Sunk down beneath his Weight, and died.  
The Master coming up, took off the Sack,  
And threw it on the Horse's Back:  
And having flaid his Ass, he threw  
The filthy Hide upon him too.  
At which the Horse, thus sadly humbled, cried.  
(Letting some Tears for Grief and Anger fall)  
Whether 'twere Cruelty, or Pride,  
That I so fair Request denied.  
I am justly served, and made to carry all.   

The Asses of the South and East  
Desire the Horses of the North and West,  
That, as to Parliament they Trot,  
This Fable may not be forgot.    

FAB. iv Of the judgement of the Ape.  
A Wolf complained that he had lost a Lamb,  
And straight impleads a Fox of no good Fame,  
(Who had a Lamb) that he had stolen the same;  
An Ape was to decide the Cause,  
Having some knowledge in the Laws.  
No Council was by either feed,  
Each would his Cause, in Person, plead;  
And so they did, with mighty heat;  
The Judge himself did almost sweat,  
To hear the force of their Debate.  
How they accuse, and how defend,  
How they replied, joined and rejoined.  
At length in pity to the Court,  
The Judge was fain to cut them short;  
And thus determined— Sirs, in troth,  
The Labm belongs to neither of you both.  
You, Mr. Wolf, have, doubtless, lost no Lamb;  
And, Renard, you as surely stole that same;  
But not from him, if Justice might prevail,  
You should be both condemned to Fine and Jail.  
So two great Lords for an Estate may fight,  
Which does to neither appertain, by Right.   

FAB. V Of the Horse and Man.  
A Fierce wild Boar, of monstrous size and force,  
Did once, in early days, affront a Horse.  
Who meditating Vengeance, found his Will  
To hurt, much greater than his Power and Skill;  
And therefore, chafed and resolute, he ran  
To the next House, and thus applied to Man.  
I come, Superior Power, whom Jove hath made  
His Substitute on Earth, to seek thy Aid,  
Against a sordid Brute, who injures me,  
And likewise speaks contemptibly of Thee.  
Jove, whom thou namest (said Man) was to thee kind,  
And sent thee where thou shalt Assistance find.  
But this injurious Boar will never meet  
Our Arms upon the Plain, but trusts his Feet.  
But shall his Feet then his Protection be,  
Since Swiftness is the Gift of Jove to thee?  
(Mark it, my Friend, this Insolence  
Deprives us or our common Sense.)  
This doubtless he forgot; so will not we.  
You, for Convenience, will a while submit  
To be directed with a Bridle and Bit;  
And take me on your Back, till we shall see  
This your outrageous Enemy.  
Up, said the Horse then, let us never rest,  
Till we have found this cursed Beast.  
Away then to the Woods they flew,  
The Horse his Haunts and Coverts knew,  
And there his Foe, the dextrous Warrior slew.  
This done, they jocund homewards make,  
And thus the Horse the Man bespoke.  
Now, Sir, accept my Thanks for what is past,  
I to my wont Fields, and Friends must: haste.  
Hold, quoth the Man, we part none quite so soon:  
Your Business is, but Mine is not yet done.  
Some Service there remains, due to the Aid.  
I lent you, which must be repaid.  
This said, he light, and tied him to a Rack;  
Where the poor Creature, thus with Sorrow spoke.  
'Slight was the Injury of the Boar,  
And might, perhaps, have been no more:  
But now I'm utterly undone,  
My Ease and Liberty are gone.  
Sweet is Revenge, just in the Taste,  
But surely Bitterness at last.  
Let other Creatures warning take,  
What Bargains they in Passion make.  
Let Nations also take good care,  
That they with many Hardships bear,  
Rather than seek Redress abroad;  
Which is but adding to their Load.   

FAB. VI The Bargain.  
TWO Welshmen Partners in a Cow  
Resolved to sell her dear;  
And laid their Heads together, how  
To do't at Ludlow Fair.  
It was a sultry Summer's Day,  
When out they drove the Beast;  
And having got about half way,  
They sat them down to rest.  
The Cow, a Creature of no Breeding,  
(The place with Grass being stored)  
Fed by; and whilst she was a feeding.  
Let fall a mighty T—  
Roger, quoth Hugh, I tell thee what,  
Two Words and I have done;  
If thou wilt fairly Eat up that,  
The Cow is all thy own.  
'Tis done, quoth Roger, 'tis agreed,  
And to't he went a pace;  
He seemed so eager set, 'tis said,  
That he forgot his Grace.  
He laboured with his wooden Spoon,  
And up he stopped the stuff;  
Till, by the time that half was done,  
He felt he had enough.  
He felt; but scorning to go back.  
Would look as if he wanted more;  
And seemed to make a fresh Attack,  
With as much Vigour as before,  
But stopping short a while, he cried,  
How fares it, Neighbour Hugh?  
I hope, by this, you're satisfied,  
Who's Master of the Cow.  
Ay, ay, quoth Hugh (the Devil choke thee.  
For nothing else can do't,)  
I'm satisfied that thou hast broke me,  
Unless thou wilt give out.  
Give out? quoth Roger, that were fine;  
Why, what have I been doing?  
But yet I tell thee, Friend of mine,  
I shall not seek thy Ruin.  
My Heart now turns against such Gains;  
I know th' art piteous Poor.  
Eat thou the half that still remains,  
And 'tis as 'twas before.  
God's Blessing on thy Heart, quoth Hugh?  
That Proffer none can gainsay;  
With that, he readily fell to,  
And Eat his share o'th' tansy.  
Well now, quoth Hodge, weare even, no doubt,  
And neither side much Winner.  
So had we been, quoth Hugh, without  
This damned confounded Dinner.  
Let this, both to our Wars and Peace  
Be honestly applied;  
France and th' Allies have done no less,  
That what these Welshmen did.   

FAB. VII. The Frogs Concern.  
TWO fierce young Bulls within th● Marshes strove,  
For the Reward of Empire and of Love;  
Which should the fairest Heifer gain,  
And which should govern all the Plain.  
This, when a Frog hard by perceived,  
He sighed, and sobbed, and sorely grieved.  
He hung his Head, and made great moan,  
As though he had lost his Wife or Son.  
At which a neighbour Frog admired,  
And kindly of the Cause enquired;  
Which when he knew, he said in haste,  
And Gossip, is this all at last?  
If this and that great Loggerheaded Bull  
Will try the Thickness of each others Scull.  
Even let them do, as fit they see:  
But what is that to You and Me?  
If that, replied the other, were all indeed,  
We should about this Matter be agreed,  
I should not care a single Groat,  
To see them tore each others Throat;  
But, Friend, the Creatures of such Might,  
Can nevet meet in Field to Fight,  
But in the Fury of their full Career,  
Both you and I endangered are;  
And all our kindred Tribes below,  
In hazard of their Lives must go.  
When Bulls rush on, or when retreat for Breath,  
They'll tread a hundred of us little Folks to death.  
If Kings would fight themselves alone,  
Their People still secure,  
No mortal Man would part 'em sure,  
But let them even fight on.  
But when the Suhjects Blood is spilt,  
And their Estates are drained,  
To justify a Prince's Gild,  
Or have his Vanity maintained;  
When they must pay for all at last,  
That Lust, Ambition, or Revenge lay waste;  
The poorest Man alive may fear,  
And pray against the Miseries of War.   

FAB. VIII. Of a Man and his Ass.  
A Wretched Churl was travelling with his Ass,  
Beneath two Panniers Load oppressed;  
And hearing Noise behind, cried to the Beast,  
Fly, my Friend Roger, fly apace;  
Else I'm undone, and all my Market's naught;  
And thou thyself will by the Rogues be caught.  
Caught? quoth the Beast, what if I be?  
What will it signify to me?  
My Panniers are so full, they'll hold no more;  
I carry Two and cannot carry Four.  
'Twixt Rogues and You, I can no difference make,  
They are all Rogues to me, who break my Back.  
Fly, fly from France, our Statesmen cry,  
And Slavery's cursed Yoke;  
Whilst with out Ancient Liberty,  
Our very Backs are broke.  
France is a Thief; but France can do no more,  
Than keep the Panniers on me had before.   

FAB. IX. Of a Wolf.  
A Wolf retiring from Whitehall,  
Where he had Statesman been,  
Built for himself a Box so small,  
That few could be received within.  
The Country all admired at this,  
And could not at the Reason guests,  
Why one so Wealthy and so Great,  
Should cage himself at such a rate.  
Till at the last a Fox came by,  
A Courtier also, sleek and sly.  
And thus in earnest and in jest,  
His Reason gave amongst the rest.  
Perhaps my Lord Commissioner intends.  
Here to receive only his honest Friends.   

FAB X. The Plaintiff and Defendant.  
TWO Travellers an Oyster found,  
Dropped from some Pannier down;  
Each stooped, and took it from the Ground,  
And claimed it as his own.  
Since both can't have it all, said one,  
Even let it parted be.  
No, says the other, all or none,  
But all belongs to me.  
One Sergeant Law, by chance came by,  
And he must end the Strife:  
Which thing he did immediately,  
With his deciding Knife.  
He took the Fish, arid cut it up;  
(This Cause he opened well)  
And fairly did the Oyster sup.  
And gave to each a Shell.  
And if hereafter Causes rise,  
Where People can't agree,  
I know, quoth he, you'll be so wise  
To refer them still to me.  
My Name is Law, my Chambers are  
At some of the Inns of Court,  
Or Serjeant's, or Westminster,  
Where all for Help resort.  
Sir, quo, the Men, trust us for that,  
We shall not fail to tell,  
'Twas Law that did the Oyster ear,  
And left to Us the Shell.   

FAB. XI. Of the Pigeons.  
THE Hawks were once at mortal Jars,  
Which came at length to Civil Wars.  
The Pigeons they stood looking on,  
And, full of Pity, made great moan;  
To see how bloodily they fought,  
And each the others Ruin sought.  
And never would these Creatures cease,  
Till they had mediated a Peace.  
The Hawks did easily consent,  
So Peace was made, and home they went,  
Where when they came and wanted Prey,  
And how to pass their time away;  
They fairly made one general Swoop.  
And eat their Mediator up.  
Two lucky Pigeons were not there,  
And so escaped the Massacre.  
Of which the One to th' Other said,  
How came our Kindred all so mad?  
Parting of Hawks! Hawks ever should  
Be gorged with one another's Blood.  
The Wicked have a natural Rage,  
(A thirst of Violence to assuage.)  
Which if not on the Wicked spent,  
Will fall upon the Innocent.  
So the poor Hugonots of France.  
And Vaudois full as poor.  
Prayed loudly, in their Innocence,  
That God would Peace restore.  
Peace was restored; but Peace to them  
No Safety did restore  
Their Hawks employed their Power and Time  
Much worse than e'er before.  
And thou, O Church of England Dove,  
 not upon thy Peace;  
That may, than War, more fatal prove,  
Both to thy Wealth and Ease.   

FAB. XII. The Farmer and the Hare.  

A Hare did once into a Garden get  
Belonging to a Farm;  
Where she began to throw up Earth, and eat,  
And do some little Harm.  
The Farmer coursed her round and round,  
But got her not away;  
Puss took a liking to the Ground,  
And there resolved to stay.  
Well, quoth the Fellow, in a Fret,  
Since you are grown so bold,  
I shall some more Assistance get,  
And drive you from your Hold.  
And straight he sends to a young Squire,  
That he, by break of Day,  
Would with his Pack of Hounds, repair  
And sport himseif that way.  
The Squire, as asked, attended came,  
With Folks, and Horse, and Hounds,  
And in pursuance of the Game,  
Road over all the Grounds.  
They leapt the Ditches, broke the Hedges down,  
And made most fearful Waste;  
They trampled all the Garden round,  
And killed poor Puss at last.  
At this the Farmer tore his Hair,  
And swore most bloodily,  
Zounds! What confounded work is here?  
And what a Fool am I?  
Not fifty Hares, in fifty Days,  
Had so much Mischief done,  
As this good Squire (whom I must praise  
And thank) hath wrought in One.   

If our Deliverance from the Frights  
Of standing Army near,  
And silly superstitious Rites,  
Worth Forty Millions were;  
Then have we wisely broke our Mounds,  
That our Defences were,  
Wisely called in our Neighbour's Hounds,  
And killed the desperate Hare.  
But if, with all this vast Expense,  
Besides a Sea of Blood  
Spilt in the Church and State's Defence,  
Our Matters stand much as they stood.  
Then have we done a World of ill,  
With endless Cost and Pains,  
A little hurtful Hare to kill;  
And well deserve the Brains.    

FAB. XIII. Paetry its Cure.  

A Youth of pregnant Parts and Wit,  
And thirsty after Fame,  
Was musing long which way to get  
An everlasting Name.  
And having heard of Poetry,  
And its Immortal Praise;  
He thought the way to Fame must lie  
By courting of the Bays.  
He heard how many a noble Town  
Laid Claim to Homer's Birth,  
To purchase from it a Renown,  
Above the rest of th' Earth.  
This kindled in his generous Mind  
A strong and noble Fire:  
He seemed for nothing else designed,  
Can nothing else desire.  
The Father finding this intent  
Ill with his state agreed,  
That, living, wanted Six per Cent.  
Much more than Fame when dead:  
Resolved to try to cure his Mind,  
And change his vain Designs,  
And could no fit Method find,  
Than sending him these Lines:   

Seven wealthy Towns contend for HOMER Dead,  
Through which the Living HOMER begged his Bread.     

AESOP AT .   

To the Reader.  
AND why not  as good as Tunbridge? and Epsom as either of both? I know the Virtues of none of our Mineral Waters, yet find that none of 'em all are sufficient to purge the Heads of the Jacobites: Perhaps you'll say, that's no fault of the Water, but of the Head, having no Brains to work upon. If this be the case, I can't help it; could I furnish Brains, I should e'er now have made a better provision for myself. And for the Jacobites want of Brains, that's an advantage to the Commonwealth, considering the ill use they would put 'em to; furnished with that Commodity, they would become as mischievous as a Monkey in a Glass Shop, or a Madman with a Sword in his Hand. Were their wit answerable to their malice, what an abominable spot of Work would they make? We should have a fine Kettle of Fish on't I'll warrant you. 'Tis a wonderful comfort, good Reader, that cursed Cows have short Horns, otherwise the Government would be most damnably gored. But really a Jacobite is a most inoffensive Creature, as harmless as a little. Devil of Two years Old, he'll do you no more hurt than he can; and if he does you any good, he'll be extremely sorry for't. He's very well read in the noble Histories, Parismus, Reynard the Fox, and Tom Thumb; and this qualification introduces him inio the worshipful Club at Epsom or Tunbridge, where they make Plots, and such pretty Plots too as were never known, hanging being the end of some, and nothing the end of of others; but their last Plot was the finest thing, a very high Kick, Mr. Reader, a Fable Plot, where Birds and Beasts speak as much Sense as any Jacobite of 'em all; and the end of this Plot was Morals. The Jacobites never yet had any Morals in the beginning, middle, nor end of their Lives; and this happening now is very extraordinary; I am afraid they are going to wind up their Bottom, and are in the same condition the Devil was in when he turned Monk. So much for their Fables; now, Reader go on, and thou'lt find that I writ Fables too, only with this difference, mine are for the Government theirs against it; theirs writ by a Club, mine by myself: they have bad ever since Perkins and Friend were hanged to write theirs, I only one Day. Now whether thou likest my Fables or no I can't tell, nor do I care; Fables I will write for all thee, or any body else, and so farewell.   

AESOP AT .  

FAB. I. Fair Warning.  
A Certain Poet in Lampoon  
Abused the Fop, the Beau, Buffoon,  
All sorts of great and little Knaves,  
Would make Kings Beasts, and People Slaves.  
The Court condemned his Lines to Fire,  
And with the Offspring would the Sire.  
The Poet is in Limbo taken,  
And hard it is to save his Bacon.  
The Judge doth rail, the Courtiers bawl,  
And quite alive is grown Whitehall.  
The Poet to appease the Storm,  
Said he, my Lords, I meant no harm;  
Here's no man named, no scandal mag',  
And all the rest not worth a Rag.  
Up stood a Lord, looked mighty big,  
With Sense scarce half so long as Wig:  
And by your leave good Master Poet,  
For this wise Board's resolved to know it,  
Who 'tis you mean by Fools and Knaves,  
And beastly Kings and abject Slaves?  
My Lord, he said none in his Wits.  
But thinks, I mean, each Knave it hits.   

FAB II. The Fox and the Poultry.  

AN aged Fox that ravaged Woods and Plains,  
Dread Foe to Cocks and Hens, and Country Swains;  
The most Tyrannic Reynard e'er was known,  
Since Beasts bore rule, and hectored on a Throne.  
He neither young nor old, when hungry spared;  
Alike the Lambkins and the Hen-roost fared.  
But Age retards at last his hasty flight,  
He plunders not so much by day, non ravages by night;  
Grown weak and Feeble, Wit must now supply  
His want of Strength—  
No kind good-natured Fox will bring him Food,  
He must share the Fortune of the Wood  
One day, as hungry Reynard sat alone,  
His empty Guts and Fortune did bemoan;  
Said he, I'll try what aged Craft can do.  
New Methods find, a new Device pursue:  
Hard by a Tarbox lay, some careless Swain  
Had left when he kept Sheep upon the Plain.  
Projecting Reynard with a diligent care  
Bedawbs his Belly, Sides and Back with Tat  
Than to a Ditch he goes, where t'other day  
He did a Hen and all her Chickens slay;  
Their Feathers still lay scattered on the Ground,  
In which the Fox did wallow, tumble round.  
The Feathers sticking still as he did roll,  
Made him resemble much a larger Fowl.  
And thus transformed into a new disguise,  
Unto a neighbouring Hen-roost straight he hies:  
And just beneath the Roost his station took,  
And looking on the Perch, the Poultry thus bespoke.   

Kind gentle Cocks and Hens I am  
No more your Foe:  
What once I did, is now my shame,  
And for the future I the same  
No more will do.   

I come not as an Enemy  
Your Lives to take,  
But would with you'in Friendship be,  
As you may judge if you but see  
The Clothes upon my Back.   

Come down, than Friends, a lasting Truce  
'Twixt you and I;  
I'll neither Cocks nor Hens abuse;  
Let us shake hands as Lovers use,  
Be Friends until we die.   

No, quoth the Cock, you will as much devour  
As e'er you did, were but it in your power:  
Your vain pretence of Kindness we abhor,  
And from our Perch we will not downward stir:  
've changed you Coat, but have not changed your Name;  
If that were altered too, your Nature is the same.   

In vain do those, who heretofore  
Our Liberties betrayed  
Unto a wild Despetick Power,  
And levelly all our Fences laid:   

In vain they talk of Property,  
Or think to be believed;  
Their Actions give their Tongue the lie:  
Who can be thus deceived;  
Their vain pretence of public Good  
Is for sinister Ends;  
And who the Devil, when understood '  
Would be such Villains Friends?  
They'd feed the Flock, only to steal the Fleece;  
When the Fox preaches, then beware the Geese.    

FAB. III. The Poor Man and the Devil.  

ALab'ring Swain had been at work,  
And all his Limbs had tired,  
By using Shovel, and the Fork,  
To rest at Night retired.   

So sweet's the sleep of Country Swains,  
Such undisturbed Repose  
Accompanies their daily pains,  
That Peace about them flows.   

No dismal Visions do affright,  
No Dreams do e'er approach;  
Within the Curtains of the Night  
They sleep as sound as any Roach,   

But now the Swain, in dead of night.  
An airy Phantom saw;  
A cloven-footed hideous Spirit  
Him out of Bed did draw:   

And led him to an Orchard fair,  
Where pointing to a Tree,  
Beneath that Stock, he said, is there  
A Fund of Gold for thee,   

But how, replied the fleepy Swain,  
Shall I this Treasure find,  
Or know that selfsame Tree again  
No mark being left behind?   

Then quoth the Devil, shit near the place,  
And thus upon my word,  
To morrow when thou viewst the Grass,  
Thou't know it by the T—   

Thus did the Swain; when he awoke,  
And raised his drowsy Head,  
He found not as the Devil spoke,  
But found a T— in Bed.   

Thus sleeping Jacks do dream and snore,  
And please their foolish mind,  
In thinking what they were before,  
And what henceforth they'll find.  
But if they would right measures take,  
And governed be by Wit;  
When once their Reason does awake,  
They'll find their Cause beshit.    

FAB. iv The Fox and Grapes.  

1.  
A Fox espied a bunch of Grapes,  
Most beauteous in their Nature;  
He grinned like any Jackanapes,  
And all his Teeth did water.   

2.  
He strived to reach'em, but in vain;  
He leapt and sprang as high  
As any Beast of Reynard's strain,  
But could not reach them nigh.   

3.  
He said, 'tis true, they do look fair,  
Yet sour are, I Know;  
So let'em hang, even as they are,  
I'll march, and let 'em grow.   

Thus Rebels do by Governments  
They cannot undermine;  
They let the King, the God alone,  
Tho not adore His Shrine.   

'tis well their hands are made so short,  
That they can reach no higher,  
Else we should all be burned for't,  
They'd set the World on fire.    

FAB. V The Fool's Concern.  

TWO Fools were born, and might live free.  
And struggled much for Slavery:  
One praised a Goal 'bove an Estate,  
And swore no Windows like a Grate.  
One liked the Fashions Frenchmen use;  
But above all of Wooden Shoes:  
Envied the Music of his Betters,  
Th' harmonious noise of jingling Fetters.  
Whilst they at one another grumbled,  
One on a pair of Fetters stumbled;  
Near which another pair did shine,  
Tho not so big, nor half so fine.  
The Fools begin a new Contest,  
Not which of them should have the best,  
But which the biggest Chain should wear.  
A Country Fellow being near,  
Said he, the thing is quickly done,  
Join both the Fetters into one,  
And let each Man put in a Foot,  
The Devil take't if this done't do't.   

If England still is in extremes,  
And will not yet be saved,  
Call in the French, and late King James,  
And your complete enslaved.    

FAB. VI The Farmer and the Badger.  

A Badger once did ravage all the Fields  
Belonging to a Farm;  
Dug up the Earth, and spoiled all that it yields,  
And did a wondrous harm.   

The Farmer hallooed on his Dog,  
Thinking thereby to quell her;  
But being bred to hunt the Hog,  
He knew not how to kill her.   

The Farmer sends for a young Squire  
To come with all his Hounds;  
His and their Aid he does require,  
To beat her from her Mounds.   

The Squire came with all his Hounds,  
The Badger did pursue;  
He ravaged all the Farmer's Grounds,  
And killed the Badger too   

Some little mischief true he did,  
In beating down the Corn,  
And breaking Hedges as he rid:  
So small a loss was born.   

For, says the Farmer, now my Sheep  
May more securely graze;  
My Poultry may the Hen-roost keep,  
I'm better than I was.   

If our deliverance from our Foes,  
And Popish Tyranny,  
Bened worth the Money has been rose,  
'Tis pity we are free,   

'Tis certain wisely we have done,  
To keep the Nation safe,  
In giving part as we have done,  
To save the better half.    

FAB. VII. The Cure of Malcontents.  

A Son unto his Father wrote,  
That he would him advise,  
How men might be to reason brought,  
That never were born wise:   

How a tumultuous brood of Fools,  
that never are content,  
Might once be polished into Tools,  
And fit for Government:   

How those who for many Years  
Have longed for Slavery,  
At once might lose their Ass' Ears,  
And cover to be free.   

The Father mildly told the Son,  
In the Attempt he'd falter:  
No Cure upon them could be done,  
But by a hempen Halter.    

FAB. VIII: The Ravens and Crows.  

A Lusty Horse, nor long ago,  
Would snuffle, snort and kick,  
Curvet and prance, as others do,  
Was fallen wondrous sick.   

'Twas far from any House or Town,  
No Doctor could be got;  
So the poor Beast must die alone,  
And without burial rot.   

He restless lay upon the Ground,  
And turned from side to side:  
His Groans the neighbouring Woods resound,  
Where Birds of prey reside.   

No sooner did they hear the noise,  
But from the Woods they flew,  
Whole Troops of Ravens, and the Crows,  
And round the Horse they drew.   

At length a Raven of renown,  
Strutting like Prince of Conde;  
As black as any Parson's Gown  
He wears upon a Sunday:   

Gets on a Molehill, looked around,  
And thus bespoke the Crows;  
We're ancient Friends, and without ground  
We will not now be Foes.   

You know, by Contract, we're to have  
The Carrion of this Place;  
And you the other side did crave,  
Such our Agreement was,   

No, quoth the Crows, this very place,  
To us is free as Air;  
And how dare you with such a face,  
Oppose such numbers here?   

Ay, quoth the Raven, then we'll try  
To whom it doth belong;  
But first let the poor Creature die,  
Then see who's right or wrong.   

Both sides resolved to fight so out,  
Each does advantage take;  
They march, and march and march about,  
And each one whets his Beak.   

They view the Ground, and mark the Came  
And the Approaches form;  
Contrive the easiest methods from;  
They may the carcase storm.   

Mean time the Horse lies dangerouS ill,  
Yet shites, and farts, and groans;  
Good signs, they say, in Physic skill,  
And stretching of the Bones.   

The Horse (though helpless) by degrees,  
Began to gather strength;  
At first he rises on his Knees,  
And on his Legs at length.   

The Birds of prey were all surprised,  
And all away they flew;  
The battle's thus on both sides lost,  
And all the Carrion too.   

Thus some, whom neither Peace nor Ware  
Can satisfy, still hope for Jars;  
That by great Princes falling out,  
They may their Business bring about.   

And Wonders must be done and said,  
When once the King of Spain is dead;  
But he, like Horse, prevents the fight,  
And is resolved to live in spite.    

FAB. III. The Parson and Whig.  
A Jolly Whit upon the Road,  
As People say, met Man of God;  
A First-rate Clergyman was he.  
And of Bell-swagger's Family:  
Are School the lash did oft-endure,  
And was dragged uo by Dr. Cluer.  
So bravely mounted was the Parson,  
That better Steed no Man laid Arse on:  
Stopping the Whig, he bid him stand,  
And give the Church the better hand:  
Thou look'st like some dissenting Prig.  
Good morrow, Parson, quoth the Whig.  
Pray, why that, Sir, upon my Coat?  
Quoth Whig, I value not a Groat  
Thy Coat, nor Church, nor Common-pray'r  
Nor all Ash-wednesday Curses there:  
Yet to the Church I can be civil;  
But stopped by Priest, it is the Devil.  
Quoth Parson, if thou'lt hold a Parley,  
At yonder Town's good Juice of Barley  
Thy looks, I'm sure, will never fail.  
For by thy Nose thou lov'st good Ale;  
And there in a reformed Cup,  
This Difference we will make up.  
With all my heart, said Whig, I'll do't;  
And so away they both did troth.  
As Parson near the Road did look,  
He found a Common-prayer Book.  
Half cried the Whig; no, said the Priest,  
This does belong to me at least:  
Half, had been thine, had it been Rivo●,  
But this is mine, Jure Divino.  
The Whig insisted on his half:  
The Book was good, and bound in Calf,  
Would Money fetch; rather than fail,  
He'd have it melted down in Ale,  
Quoth Priest, that is profanely spoke;  
Nothing's ill said, that's not ill took:  
I know not, Sir, but it may be  
'Gainst Act of Uniformity,  
Which I remember, does declare,  
That we should read, not drink the Prayer.  
This Book was bought, I must confess,  
With Mammon of Unrigteousness.  
And if we sell it on this score,  
It is but what it was before.  
'Twill make us drink, and sing and roar.  
No longer now with difference clogged,  
The Priest and Whig together jogged:  
To Alehouse come, they both alight,  
And ere they entered went to shit;  
For Guts o'reloaded sometimes burst,  
The way to fills to empty first;  
They passed the Glass in Bumpers big,  
And ●ere's t'ye Priest, and bere's tye Whigh.  
The Hostess scarce could get a sup,  
So fast they drank the Liquor up,  
She's forced to tap another Tub,  
The Passive Ale did often venture,  
At non-resisting Mouth, did enter;  
So quick it passed about, that all  
The ready Rino's drowned in Ale;  
No Juice remained within the Glass,  
And eke the Pot full empty was.  
Now good reserve of Prayer-Book,  
From underneath the Gown was took:  
To work again in Liquor stout,  
They Orthodoxly drink about:  
At every tiff is gulpt at once  
A learned Collect or Response.  
Two Glasses in a hand they seize on,  
Which go for first and second Lesson.  
The Ale doth in right Channel go,  
Modo Ecclesiastico.  
All's fairly done, without a Trick,  
No man is here a Schismatic.  
The drinking Orders all observe;  
And not one bit from Canon swerve;  
And drinking Articles would sign,  
Tho they were more than Thirty nine.  
Now, said the Priest, the Book is gone,  
I've a good mind to pawn my Gown.  
Ay, do, said Whig, thy Cassock too,  
And Cirsingle; if that won't do,  
Rather than leave thee in the lurch.  
I'll help thee pawn the very Church,  
And sell the Bells, Communion Plate,  
There is no Sacrilege in that.  
Says Hostess now the Tub's on stoop;  
If it will afford another Cup,  
It shall be mine, since you this day  
Have taught me how to brew and pray.  
Thus two good Friends were forced to part,  
Like Thief from Priest in Tyburn Car●:  
'Twas want of Liquor, not of Will,  
Or else they had been at it still.  
How much Religion is abused;  
How little Honesty is used,  
By those who do profess the same;  
How much the Sacred Name  
Is every where profaned,  
How deeply stained,  
The Parson 's Gown,  
A Friend to none,  
But to himself alone.  
Lord I how we heard'em cant, and pray, and whine,  
And preach up Monarchy of Right Divine.  
Why did they so?  
It was their Interest so to do.  
When Right divine new Clergymen did seek,  
Seized on the Church, and made the Tithe-pig squeak;  
Passive Obedience now was preached no more;  
Instead of which the Church's Canons roar,  
Reached with Complaints the Belgic Shoar,  
The Norther Lion o'er the Seas did pass,  
And scared away the Church's Ass;  
The Church, by whose advice he ruin'd was.  
They'll make, and govern Kings, but none obey,  
But where their Interest leads the way  
Interest, for which they'd pawn their very God,  
Their Church, their Principles: 'tis very odd,  
A King should trust men will be bribed with Gold,  
And not be heedful when another's sold.    

AESOP AT EPSOM.   

To his Excellency Charles Montague, Esq; one of the Lord's Justices for the Administration of public Affairs during the King's Absence, first Lord Commissioner of the Treasury, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and one of His Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council.  
SIR,  
THo' a Present of Fables to Your Excellency the imitable Author of the Country-Mouse, and City-Mouse, may at this time seem improper: Yet a Present of Loyalty to the same Government, which You have been so studious and successful in the Preservation of, cannot but carry its Acceptance with it. That Liberty which Your Excellency gave the World so sweet a taste of in Your most incomparable Fable, and which afterwards You was so instrumental in continuing to us, is in part the Subject of these. And as Aesop at Tunbridge, by feigned and surreptitious Fables, seems to bewail the change of the late Government, so Aesop at Epsom with real and genuine resoyceth at the Establishment of this. Sir, Your Execellency's great Example has such a prevailing influence, as to make the meanest Subject solicitous for the Public Good, and to see that Revolution become the subject of satire, which has given such opportunities for Henegyrick, (and whose Royal Author has had such immortal Commendations from Your Excellency's the best of Pens) could not but add very much to my Resentments in the following Papers. But, Sir, to give no further interruption to a Gentleman whose very Leisure is employed for the public Safety, I shall not encroach upon Your time any further than to beg Your Acceptance of this poor Entertainment, which, shall make me add to my Endeavours of appoving myself in a more substantial way,  
Sir, Your Excellency's most Obedient Servant.   

AESOP AT EPSOM.  

FAB. I. Of the Fox and the Stork.  
A Subtle Fox, well practised in design,  
Invites a Stork, that He with him will dine  
A match, says Stork, Sir Reynard it's agreed,  
And home he goes, and much resolved to feed.  
Nothing will serve, but that He's sure the Beast.  
Will soon repent He'd brought him for a Guest,  
His Stomach was so empty, and so great,  
Zounds! He himself should finish all the treat.  
Fox smiles, and in his Cubs the Dinner bring,  
Soop, and Pottage, a Banquet for a King.  
Fall on, my guest, said Fox, and down he pour's  
The liquid Feast which He himself devours.  
Dear Stork, He cries, 'Slife. Child, why dost not Peck,  
The Stork he stretches, and extends his neck.  
But nothing can get up within his Bill,  
Whilst Reynard licks it up, and Eats his fill;  
At length perceiving how he had been served,  
He homeward Stalks, or he must else have Straved,  
But Mindful of the Fox his empty Treat,  
Sends to Invite Him to a dish of Meat.  
The Fox not thinking Storks had had the sense  
To mind affronts, or take the least offence.  
Took him at's word, and said, Sir Stork content,  
I'll see what House you keep, and Home wi'him went.  
The Table Spread, and every thing complete,  
That might put Fox in mind He was to eat:  
Two Servant Storks upon the Table placed  
A Narrow long-necked Glass which held the Feast;  
Lampreys and Eels within it might be seen,  
The Glass was so transparent and so clean,  
When Stork, Sans ceremony, Sir, begin,  
You see your Entertainment here, within,  
I'll show the way; and in his Beak he thrust  
Whilst Reynard tried in vain, add trying cursed.  
Lord, said the Stork, are you a Beast of thought,  
And yet no Broth, or Soop, or Pottage brought?  
I'd even fetch some, and fill the Vessel up,  
You then, although You could not eat, might sup.  

MORAL  
The Application soon is made  
By any that's a Reader,  
One in his turn the Fool has played,  
And whose turn's now consider:  
The Tunbridge Aesop first has given  
The Town a Dish of Meat,  
And faith, to make the Tallies ever,  
Epsom should also treat.    

FAB. II. Of the Lamb and the Wolf.  
A Wolf as he looked our for prey,  
And went in search of food,  
Perceived a Lamb and Goat in's way  
Come jogging on the Road.  
Mutton he loved, but did not dare  
Fasten on that he spied,  
Whilst Hircus with his Horns was there,  
And thus to part them tried.  
Home from this Beast for shame, Sir Lamb.  
It grieves my very Soul,  
To see you leave a Noble Dam,  
And walk with Goat so foul.  
A Goat! fie on't, the very worst  
Of all the Brutal Race;  
A stinking Animal and cursed,  
The Woods, and Fields disgrace.  
Hark you, said Lamb; I plainly know  
Whom you your Tricks would put on,  
And what you mean by gaping so,  
Poor Wolf! he wants some Mutton.  
I'thank you for th' Advice you lend,  
And wonder not you should  
Like me much better than my Friend,  
Since I am much better Food.  

MORAL.  
So when the Wars broke out at first,  
And France prepared for fight,  
Lord! how her Mighty Monarch cursed  
The Dutch and us uniting!  
Per Dieu, said he, the British Race  
Of Heroes once the Chief  
Join with a Land so cursed Base,  
And ask of them relief!  
But had his Aim succcessful been  
And us from them removed,  
We then the sad Effects had seen.  
And Fables moral proved.    

FAB. III. Of the Sun and the Northwind.  

BEtwixt the Sun and Wind, arose  
A Quarrer, like to end in Blows,  
If both of 'em had not rather chose  
A fitting Mediator.   

It seems that this Contention grew  
From which was Strongest of Two.  
And down their Wagers straight they threw  
Thus to decide the matter.   

By chance a Traveller came by,  
And both with one united cry,  
On him let us our Forces try  
To finish the Dispute:   

He that the first a Way could find  
To make him leave his Cloak behind  
Should win; it's dine, agreed, said Wind.  
Said Sun, content, I'll do't.   

When Boreas summoned every Blast,  
And at him all his fury cast,  
But flinging round his Cloak, he passed  
And forwarded his Journey:   

Sol smiles, and gathering all his Rays,  
Sure of the Conquest and the Bays,  
I'll make you quit your Cloak, he says,  
Or else, by God, I'll burn ye.   

Strait Passenger began to swear,  
Enraged and troubled with the Heat,  
And in a most confounded Pett,  
At last fling off the Garment   

Boreas, said Sol, See yonder Cloak,  
The Wagers won and thou art broke,  
And up in haste the Stakes he took,  
And that was all the harm in't.   

MORAL.  
Thus blust'ring Kings like Boreas often fail;  
Whilst others like the Conquering Sun prevail;  
Numbers may fright and dismal Fancies raise,  
But what can Numbers in improper Ways?  
Whilst at Campeign extended Armies shine,  
And France her infant Prints fight, and dine;  
Whilst Boufflers treats the Ladies with a Song,  
And Duke de Berry learns the Spanish Tongue,  
A Prince at Cell, who Seemingly appears  
Thoughtless of Arms since now released from Wars:  
Amidst his Sports, shall-fit Expedients find  
To cheat the dangers by their Arms designed:  
And one poor Hunting Matcl. perhaps may break:  
The Measures which their famed Encampments take.    

FAB. iv Of the Trumpeter.  
A Trumpeter in time of War  
Was in the Battle taken;  
And Dead almost with very fear.  
Tried thus to save his Bacon.  
Dear Sirs, if guiltless Actions save,  
Or Innocence secures,  
From you the grant of Life I crave,  
Who ne'er, endangered yours.  
Nor Sword, nor Musket have I born,  
Or any other Weapon worn  
Than what is in my hand:  
This Trumpet never gave a wound,  
Or uttered any thing but empty sound,  
And that too by command.  
Off with the Dog, and fetch the Rope,  
Said Enemy, and tie him up,  
A Villain! never spare him.  
Zounds! That same Instrument is worse  
Than Sword, and Gun, and every Curse;  
And 've most cause to fear him,  
Since from his blasts, those wounds at first proceed,  
By which so many Thousands of us bleed.  

MORAL.  
So cries an Author who has spent his spleen,  
What harm can silly Fables mean?  
Or how can Faction takes its birth,  
From a few Tales, and unprovoking Mirth?  
They may perhaps delight,  
But rest assured they'll never Fight,  
The Beast I-treat of cannot Plot  
Or traffic in Sedition: what of that?  
When if he railed like O— 'tis, like S— Fought,  
Cursed like a Man at Sam's, like M— thought,  
All joined together ne'er was able  
To show the malice of one single Fable.    

FAB. V Of the Apple and the Horse-Turd.  
AN Apple falling from a Tree  
Which near a River stood,  
With Horse Turd in his Company  
Was sailing down the Flood.  
When Turd ambitious to discourse  
A thing so much above it,  
Would into Conversation force  
As down the River drove it,  
Lord! Madam, what a pleasant Stream  
Is this in which we ride?  
Sister! How we Two Apples swim?  
The foul Sirrev'rence cried.  

MORAL.  
A Threadbare Wriner who perchance  
Has not one Farthing paid,  
To carry on the War with France,  
Towards the Royal Aid.  
Cries, Damn this cursed confounded Peace,  
It Forty Millions cost,  
And we could not procure our Ease  
Till All our Wealth was lost.    

FAB. VI of the Covetous and the Envious Man.  
TWO men to Jove their Prayers made  
For some kind Earthly Blessing,  
One never satisfied with what he had,  
Tho' rich beyond Expressing.  
Th' other was envious, nor cared  
What mischief e'er befell Him,  
So that his Comrade was not spared,  
And what should kill him, kill him:  
Jove Teaz'd with their Petitions, sent  
His Son Appolo to 'em,  
To try to give'em both content,  
And know what service. He could do'em.  
Ask, said Apollo, Friends what 'ere  
You want th'out further trouble,  
And what is asked from either prayer  
Tother shall have it double.  
With that, the parsimonious Cuff  
For Wealth did loudly call,  
Which downward fell but ne'er enough  
For his desires could fall.  
Still as he asked, the Richesse came,  
And doubled on the other,  
Tho' still his prayer was the same  
Which still enriched his Brother,  
Next in his turn, Sir Envy kneeled.  
And with a bale-ful Eye,  
Dear Phoebus to my prayer yield  
And barken to my cry,  
Now oh! just now thou Power divine  
This favour let me find,  
Put out this single Eye of mine,  
That his may both be blind.   

FAB. VII. Of the Beaver, and the Hunters.  
A Beaver being close pursued  
By Hunters, Horse, and Hounds;  
And neither safe, within the Wood,  
Nor in the open Grounds,  
I know full well (and stepped aside)  
The reasons why I'm chased, he cried.  
And much lament the, Cause.  
My Stones are what they want, and I  
Must either part with them, or die,  
And glut the Beagles jaws:  
With that, though he was loath to part  
With things as precious as his heart,  
Or with a quiet mind  
Surrender up the pride of all his kind,  
Yet life was sweet, and uttering forth some groans,  
Off went his dear beloved Stones,  
Which in the Hunter's way  
The Melancholy Beast did lay.  
Call in the Hounds, the fierce Pursuers said,  
've caught the Game, and have our Markets made;  
And taking up the Prize they went  
All homeward with content.  
Whlist the Enervate Beast returned,  
To graze in quiet on the plain:  
And never after this Misfortune mourned,  
Or fled from Hunters or from Hounds again.  

MORAL.  
If a certain great Prince had but done as this Beast,  
And instead of each Stone gotten rid of each Priest,  
He had still been King, whom his People had blessed.  
But since He bade rather keep in with Ned Petre  
And likes Friars, and Monks for his company fit:  
Let him now keep his Stones, for there's none but has cannoneer.    

FAB. VIII. The Lion and the Fox.  
A Fox, a Lion's Chaplain, when  
The Beasts began to cry,  
And gather round their Monarch's Den  
For Ancient Liberty;  
Said, may it please my sovereign, Lord,  
Your subjects are your Slaves,  
And if they dare to speak a word,  
Your Throat may be their Graves.  
With that the Monarch Wisely smiled  
At good Sir Crapes advice,  
And said, go fetch your youngest Child,  
My Stomach's something nice.  
Sir, said the Fox, Your in the wrong,  
I must your pardon crave,  
Parson's alone to Jove belong,  
And no Controulers have.  

MORAL.  
So in late times the Pulpits rung,  
With Passive Nonresistance,  
And all the burden of their Song  
Was Duty and Asstance:  
Life, Wealth, and every thing was due  
To Him, who o'er us ruled,  
And Whilst that Cant they would pursue,  
We'd all of's Even been fooled,  
Had not their Church's Lands been thought  
Belonging to the Throne:  
And made 'em change their former note,  
And what they said disown.    

FAB. IX. Of jupiter and the Monkey.  
JOVE was desirous once to know  
What Animal did bear  
The handsomest Offspring, or could show  
A little one most fair.  
He summoned every living thing  
Unto a certain place,  
To come before him, and to bring  
A Pattern of its Race.  
Forth with each Female creature came,  
Which Air, or Sea, or Earth,  
Can for its proper Tenant claim,  
And each produced a Sample of its Birth.  
When as the Powerful God was just  
Deciding the dispute,  
Up to the Throne a Monkey thrust,  
A most deformed Brute!  
And with, her Young one in her hand  
(Whilst All the Company smiled)  
Vouchsafe great Jove to understand  
Mine is the finest Child:  
Please you my Liege to view this face,  
How regular and sweet!  
How well proportioned every grace!  
And how exact the features meet?  
Surely my Lord can ne'er refuse  
My Child and Me the Bays.  
When Jove for laughing could not choose:  
And all of 'em went their ways.  

MORAL.  
So Young Aesop from Bath, or Old Aesop from Whitehall,  
May amuse Town, and Country with a fabulous recital,  
And in love with themselves think their own things the best,  
Whilst the Clergy, they laugh at, escape the dull Jest:  
And all the success of each Fable and Story  
Is to lay down their own Faults like the Monkey before ye.    

FAB. X. Of the Hares and the Frogs.  
A Time was fixed when Hares should meet,  
And for dispatch of Business fit,  
Without the least delays,  
To remedy their present State,  
Or else anticipate their Fate,  
By proper means and ways.  
Straight every Puss the Form forsook,  
Which He or She for shelter took,  
And hastened to the place  
Which by appointment was designed,  
To heal the mischiefs of their Kind  
Or make extinct their Race.  
The SPEAKER chose, and Members placed,  
The House resolved itself at last  
Into a grand Committee:  
But what a pother, Lord! they kept?  
One sighed, another trembling wept,  
'Twould move us all to pity.  
At length a Chief of high Rnown,  
And Ranger of some mighty Down,  
First asked the Hous's leave:  
And then stood up, whilst all the rest  
With sorrows, and with grief oppressed  
Can nothing else but grieve.  
Brethren, said he, a wretched Race,  
Whom Men and Dogs, and eagle's chase,  
The Sport of the Creation,  
In vain we're thinking to redress  
Our Grievances, or make 'em less,  
While in this living Station.  
Hounds will for ever be pursuing,  
And Hunters meditating ruin,  
Whilst we must still be flying;  
We'd better (Friends) if I might give  
Advice, this moment cease to live,  
Then always be a dying.  
Tho' Death is not a thing which fuits  
With constitutions of such Bruits  
As Hares are of, 'tis certain:  
Yet they resolved, with much ado,  
To bid the Groves, and Hills adieu,  
Tho not ' thou't tears at parting.  
By chance there was a River near  
The place, where these Assemblers were  
Debating how to die,  
Wherefore to put off all delays,  
They fixed in that to end their days  
The sooner, 'cause so nigh,  
But, Lord! how Puss would backward shrink,  
When almost at the very brink,  
And sigh she was so near!  
Then tell her Beads, and wish some Saint  
Would help her from this damned restraint,  
And ease her of her fear!  
At last the leading Hares were come,  
Prepared and ready for their Doom,  
And at the Flood arriving,  
A Frog or two into it skipped,  
Which made 'em look before they leaped,  
And think of longer living.  
Hark ye (said Puss who bore the sway)  
Fair and softly wins the Day,  
There's no such need to die yet;  
I'll Home again, and e'em submit  
To what my Destiny thinks fit,  
And keep my Form in quiet.  
Troth Sirs, the Fate of Frogs is worse  
Than ours, which we at present curse,  
And are so much afraid at;  
For me who fear most things beside  
Are feared by them, and that's my Pride  
Since these are us dismayed at.  
Sirs, it would be a pretty: Jest,  
If since our life is not the best  
It should be made our loathing.  
Faith tho' I cannot be the Chief,  
I have this comfort and relief,  
I'm better far than nothing.  

MORAL.  
Hence let the Male contented mind  
Instructive Lessons draw;  
Not be uneasy, when confined  
Within the bounds of Law.  
What tho' his Purse is something drained,  
For Peace he ne'er desired,  
And has in pair that Prince maintained  
Who might have all required?  
A Neighbouring King's best Subjects paid  
Thrice more than William's worst,  
And without Money Laws obeyed,  
When his with Money cursed.  
If therefore he like Hare should grieve  
Since small respect we show Him,  
Like Hare in Fable let him live  
Since he has Frogs below him.     

OLD AESOP At WHITEHAL, etc.   

The PREFACE.  
IT is now the Mode, it seems, for Brutes to turn Politicians; and if we may give Credit to some late Authors, their Houses of Parliament assembled at Tunbridge and . The Lion who by Prescription hath been owned for King, Nemine Gontradicente, pleads it as his Privilege to summon them to his Banqueting-house at Whitehal; whence all the Three sttaes may by a short and easy Walk arrive together at Westminster, and there consult for the Common Good. He carries a bundle of Arrows in his Hand, with this Motto over them, Concordia resparvae crescunt, discordia maxima dilabuntur.  
If there be no Mysteries in Christianity, it seems there are some in Policy; when Jacobites and Commonwealths men, who have mutually branded one another with the harshest Names that Malice and Rancour could invent, should now unite in a Design against the present Government, as a common Centre. If it be so, (which Old AESOP is very unwilling to believe,) he hath given Commission to his Beasts, in the following Fables, to declare the first to be (what they always were) Knaves, and the latter (which he is sure they will be loath to be accounted) Fools. If the Reflections seem too Satyrical, they may consider that it comes from Beasts like themselves. And so Aesop bids them Farewell, but to take Care not to divide the prey till it is caught.  
Whitehal, Septemb. 22. 1698.   

THE SUMMONS.  
THE, Jackall did the King of Brutes inform  
That some designed to mine, and some to storm  
His Royal Fort. At which, with generous Rage  
The Kingly Beast, their Malice to assuage,  
Sends forth his Summons, That they should appear  
At Brutus' Whitehal, from Quarters far and near,  
There to consult; and if they found that any  
Better deserved the Sway among the Many  
Than Leo did, he would the Crown forswear  
And never henceforth any Sceptre bear:  
But at the same time givesed as his Advice,  
It's better to fill Bag one time than thrice,  
Or Three times three. It's better under one,  
Than many Masters, to lament and groan.   

Old AESOP AT WHITEHAL, GIVING Advice to the Young AESOP'S AT Tunbridge and .  

FAB. I. The Tortoise and Frogs.  
A Heavy Tortoise seeing Frogs  
Nimbly leap in Pools and Bogs,  
Blessed their limber Hams, that they  
Can so bravely frisk and play;  
Cursed the hard and heavy Pack  
That Nature laid on his own Back:  
He could neither Skip nor Dance,  
Nor caper A-la-mode de France.  
But as soons he saw the Stork  
Can the Frogs from Puddle fork,  
And that for all their nimble Heels  
They became a Prey to Eels;  
Then he quickly changed his Note,  
And for's own Coat of Mail gave Vote;  
Thanked his Stars that he was free  
From Storks and suchlike Tyranny,  
By being armed Capapee.  

MORAL.  
Did but see through  Sway  
How feeble Subjects are a Prey  
To th' Sovereign's arbitrary Will,  
Who can at's Pleasure save and kill;  
Did we feel th' Effects of's Sword and Flames  
Saw Virgins ravished, heard the Cries of Dames;  
When Soldiers sack their Towns, destroy their Men,  
Cut off their Children, scarce spare One in Ten;  
Can we but see Rome's Priests converting France  
With Arguments from Gun, Sword, Spear, and Lance;  
And then reflect that this had been our Doom,  
Can James the Just have paid his Vons to Rome,  
We would not grumble at the Tax we pay  
To keep such Monstrous Tyranny away,  
But should, that William might live ever pray.    

FAB. II. Of the other Members conspiring against the Belly.  
ONce on a Time the Hands and Feet,  
With Back, and Loins, and Bum did meet  
In a Rebellious Consult, where  
The B—ch as Speaker took the Chair,  
And with an uncouth-hollow sound  
The following Treason did propound:  
Brethren, quoth he, you know the Head  
Makes us toil and sweat for Bread,  
Yet nothing to our Lot doth fall,  
But idle Gut consumes it all.  
My Friends, if you'll be ruled by me,  
We will shake off this Tyranny.  
If Head and Belly will have Meat,  
Let them toil for't with Hands and Feet.  
Agreed, says Back, I vow and swear,  
For them I'll no more Burdens bear.  
Content, says Bum, if it be your Will;  
For I love dearly to sit still.  
Says Feet, I'll no more Errands run.  
The Loins say, Brethren, it is done.  
The Hands vow they would work no more,  
And wish they'd been as wise before.  
The Members thus in Holy League  
Did bless themselves for this Intrigue.  
But suddenly the Hands grew weak,  
The Feet grew numb, the Loins did shake,  
The Back was feeble, the Bum grew poor:  
And Breech the Chairman loud did roar,  
Pray cram the Gut, and we'll rebel no more.  

MORAL.  
It's hoped this will not be forgot  
By those who formed the Tunbridge Plot;  
Old Aesop was a Man of Sense,  
Such Doctrines never did dispense,  
That People should refuse Support,  
And pine themselves to starve the Court.    

FAB. III. The Hermit and the Soldier.  
A Pious Hermit seeing a Man of Blood  
Come strutting through his solitary Wood,  
Accosts him thus: Dear Brother, why do you  
In Human Blood and Gore your Hands imbrue?  
Leave off that Trade, be ' Partner in my Cell,  
Read, pray, and think, and save your Soul from Hell.  
The Soldier looked stern,  
But at last did reply,  
I am wiling to learn,  
And G— zds I'll comply.  
We Men of the Sword  
Are not worth a T— d,  
But are basely kept under,  
Nor have Pay, nor have Plunder.  
A plague on the Peace  
Which makes our Gain cease:  
And seeing it is so,  
With the Hermit I'll go,  
Till the Drums beat again, and the Trumpets do blow.  

MORAL.  
Just so the Jacks their desperate Cause forsake,  
And to the side o'th' Commonwealth betake;  
Since their own King has played the Foot, and's gone,  
Ours to molest they turn up every Stone.  
The Church, the Church, is ready to fire,  
Is all their Outcry: Brethren, save the Choir,  
Take care o'th'th' Steeple, Chancel, Surplice, Crape,  
The Church of England Dov's in danger of a Rape,  
No thanks to them she did from Father Peter's escape:  
Yet when their Prince, and's Priests shall venture over,  
Theyll swear she is no  nor Turtle Lover,  
But did to others her fair Breasts discover;  
Then they will be for Commonwealth no more,  
But screw Prerogative high as before,  
Huff like N— S— r, crackle like B— S—wer.    

FAB. iv The Ass in the Lion's Skin.  
A Certain Ass being struck with Shame  
Of's native Slavery, and his Name,  
Made shift to steal a Lion's Skin,  
And boldly stalked about therein;  
Shook off his innate sluggish Pace,  
And did assume an awful Face,  
As if he had been of Lybian Breeed,  
And from the Bastinado freed.  
But's cursed Ears, and Cathedral Note,  
To his great Grief, revealed the Plot;  
For when he did attempt to roar,  
He could not do't, but brayed just as before.  

MORAL.  
Thus Nonresistance thinkest not Sin  
To put on a true Patriot's Skin,  
And plead for Liberty and Laws,  
And easy Tax. But mark, the Cause;  
He would the Government disable,  
And lose the Ship for want, of Cable,  
And by this means it comes to pass,  
We know the old Passive Obedience Ass.    

FAB. V The Wolf and Hedgehog.  
A Greedy Wolf that ravaged Hills and Plains,  
Devoured the Flocks, and beggared all the Swains,  
Triumphed and skipped. But Plenty, causing waste,  
At length he knew not where, to break his Fast;  
But in his Range meets with a Porcupine,  
A curious Bit to make, Lycaon dine:  
His eager Chaps would fain been at the Prey,  
But the armed Hedgehog held him at a Bay.  
Hungry Lycaon seeing this, cries out,  
My little Brother, how comes this about?  
Have you forgot the late concluded Peace,  
That you do still your Armour wear,  
As if there were new Cause of Fear?  
Lay by your Darts, and let War cease,  
You cannot think that I will break the League.  
And Brother-Brutes surprise by false Intrigue.  
Nay, Hay, says Hedgehog, Brother, I don't say  
That you will me or other Brutes betray;  
But ne'ertheless it doth appear,  
While you have Tusks, there's Cause of Fear:  
Let me first draw your Teeth, and Sans Delay,  
I'll throw my Quiver, and my Darts away.  

MORAL.  
Thus crafty Jacks do plead our Cause,  
Armed Troops in Time of Peace, subvert our Laws:  
Lay down your Arms and then we swear,  
That our brave Prince will soon appear;  
Lafoy Hogue you know is very near.  
But since Van Trump, and bold De Rutter,  
With Ball and Powder made such splutter,  
He's as much afraid of Sword and Bomb,  
As was his Grandsire in his Grandame's Womb.  
Disband your Troops therefore we pray,  
The Nation cannot bear your Pay.  
Then come the Wolves over from Campeigne,  
And carry all, the Sheep away;  
Then will our Prince, like Mars in warlike Guise,  
Encamp at Hounslow to shoot Butterflies.  
No Man can say that he will break the Law,  
Or us by Standing-Armies over-awe;  
Since it is clear, as e'er was Light of Sun,  
His Army never stood but always run.  
Let no foul Tongue our Valorious Prince disgrace,  
For he in Person always won the Race:  
The Boyn's fair Flood, and Sarum's spacious Plain,  
Will this great Truth far evermore maintain.    

FAB. VI The Fox caught in a Trap.  

A Certain Fox being caught in Trap,  
Did lose his Tail by the Mishap.  
And cried Alas!  
For, his Disgrace,  
He could not show Face,  
Nor follow the Chase:  
But yet, says he, tho' Reynards do beguile  
The other Brutes by some fly Trick and Wile;  
I do not know that Foxes are exempted  
From being fooled too, if they're fitly tempted.  
Then let me go try,  
And briskly apply  
My Wits, to deceive,  
And make Foxes believe,  
That the Burden of their Tail,  
In Rain, Snow or Hail,  
Is intolerably grievous,  
And in Hunting Mischievous.  
If by this Means I can but prevail,  
To have every Fox cut off his own Tail,  
Then none of 'em at me will mock, scoff or rail.  
Away Reynard goes,  
His design to propose.  
Says Fathers and Mothers,  
Dear Sisters and Brothers,  
Don't flout, jeer and mock,  
At my mangled Dock:  
You know that your Tails,  
But little avails,  
When you leap over Pales,  
To catch Sheep and Fowls;  
Then do not like Owls,  
Thus burden your Back,  
By a thing you might lack.  
How brisk and how fine  
Am I without mine?   

The rest perceiving what his Motive was;  
Told him good Brother this will never pass.  
When we're hunted by Dogs,  
O'er Hills, and through Bogs.  
On our Tails we do Piss,  
And their Chaps do not miss.  
And this was the cause made the Proverb prevail,  
He hath got a flap with the Fox's Tail,  
Then cease Brother Fox,  
If we mangle our Docks.  
As you do propose,  
We're exposed to our Foes.   

MORAL.  
Thus the cursed Crew who have themselves undone,  
And from their Reason, Sense, and Interest run,  
Would gladly have us caught in that same Trap;  
I'll Men would fain have Brethren in mishap.    

FAB. VII. The Fox Preaching to the Sheep.  

A Ravening Wolf the Sheep-Cotes did invade,  
And there set up his Butcher's Shambles;  
Where without trouble of Preambles,  
He killed whatever came to hand.  
A sturdy Mastiff by the Farmer laid  
In the same Fold, preserved the Sheep,  
So that in Safety they could sleep,  
And feed, with quite in their Masters Land.  
The Fox who used with Wolf to diet,  
And on the tender Lambs to riot;  
Perceiving this,  
Says Monsieur Wolf, I am not able  
To live at such an ill-spread Table.  
Were it amiss,  
That I should go and tell the Sheep,  
The Mastiff Dog that doth them keep  
Lives on their Blood;  
That he and's Master every Day,  
With joint consent divide the Prey,  
And make the Sheep their Food.  
Wolf answers, Reynard, that is good,  
Go tell the Sheep that they should cease  
To clothe their Master with their Fleece;  
Except he will his Dog remove,  
For such a Guard they do not love  
In time of Peace.   

The Fox gets in amongst the Flock,  
And with sly Oratry thus spoke.  
Good Men of Mutton.  
What do ye with this Mastiff Dog,  
He is a mercenary Rogue  
Not worth a Button?  
For on pretnce of keeping guard,  
Your Flesh and Bones are his Reward:  
Get him cashiered.  
The Wolf and I have sworn the Peace,  
And our Hostilities must cease,  
Naughts to be feared  
By him, his Master in disguise  
Means o'er the Flocks to Tyrannize  
On my Salvation.  
As I'm a true Son of the Church,  
I would not leave you in the Lurch,  
Of such Damnation.   

The bleating Herd began ro grumble,  
For Raynard's Logic, made them stumble,  
And thus they said:  
In Faith the Wolf and Fox we see  
Are Enemies to Tyranny;  
Their Council ought to be obeyed.  
Since Ned the Wolf, and Bat the Fox,  
Are our good Friends, than what a Pox  
Should we be plagued with Curs.   

We will no more our Fleeces yield,  
Nor have our Lambs tore from the Field,  
Let's to our Zeal add Spurs:  
And for our Spokesman choose a Ram,  
Or sturdy Goat to Swear and Damn.  
And ' curse Dissenters.  
Our greatest Dangers from the Whigs,  
And cause they will not pay Tithe Pigs,  
The Wolf and Fox on them shall have Debentures.  
Content says Fox, and there's my Hand,  
I'll publish this in Woolfish-land;  
Farewell dear Sheep.  
The Wolf and I will guard your Coats,  
And pull out the Dissenters Throats;  
But unto you our promise keep.  
The Flock by Renyard thus persuaded,  
That Dog and Farmer them invaded,  
Strait left the Fido.  
Did through the Hills and Valleys stray,  
And from their Guard did run away;  
Left him to starve for want of pay:  
But mark the end.  
The Wolf and Fox, having prevailed  
The scattered Flocks strait they assailed,  
And did them all in pieces rend.   

MORAL.  
It's hoped the Sheep of North and West,  
Who to the Parliament make haste,  
The Moral will teach;  
Which is no more  
Than the Proverb of Yore.  
Let the Geese look to't when the Fox doth preach.    

FAB. VII. The Fable of the Sponge.  
A Certain Brewer whose Liquor of Life,  
Did frequently amongst his Servants raise strife,  
Resolved to abridge them, giving each Man his share,  
Enough to suffice but nothing to spare:  
But the Servants resolving they would not be stinted,  
Put their Wits on the Rack, and this Device minted.  
They got Gloves of Sponge which they thrust in the Liquor,  
And squeezing them often spent their Nasters' Stock quicker:  
Which the Brewer understanding, he seized on the Sponges;  
Made his Servants repay him, and with Actions them swinges:  
Till he had squeezed back his own, and taught them to be true,  
To leave off their sly Cheats, and be content with their Due.  

MORAL.  
Those that misapply the Treasure of the Nation,  
Ought thus to be squeezed till they make reparation:  
We may Tax, and pay on, and the King still be poor.  
If the Hands of his Servants be pitched as before.  
It's the Interest of the Nation, our Senate understands,  
That those who touch Cash should have clean washen hands.    

FAB. IX. The Trumpeter.  
A Trumpeter, who by his Fatal Sounds,  
Provoked Mankind to mutual Blood and Wounds;  
Being ta'en in Field did for his Life implore:  
I sound the Charge said he, but do no more.  
The Conqueror grew enraged at this Defence;  
Replies, base Villain, I'll Dispatch thee hence,  
Down to the Stygian Shades; dost thou not know  
That he who counsels Murder, gives the blow.  

MORAL.  
The Fable hits those who in former Reigns,  
For love of Faction, or for love of Gains,  
Did teach our Monarches a Despotic Sway,  
And damned the People that would not obey:  
These were the Firebrands of the Church and State,  
And did more Mischief than Jack Straw or Kett:  
They caused the Wa●, and that brought on the Tax,  
Then let the weight of't fall on their own Backs;  
Why should the People's Blood and Treasure pay  
To rescue that which Priesecraft did betray,  
The Priests advanced the Popeling to the Throne;  
The Priests again did force him to be gone;  
And now the Priests, like Turncoats, as before,  
Choose Jacks for Senate with Canonic Roar:  
And Church's danger slily would infer,  
From our great King who bravely rescued her.    

FAB. X. The Lion and the Ass.  
IT once came to pass,  
That the Lion and the Ass,  
Did meet in a great Consultation;  
When the King of the Brutes,  
To the dullest of Mutes,  
Did seriously make Application.  
True Roger, quoth he,  
Do but hearken to me,  
And I swear I will heighten thy Fortune.  
Thou art now a dull Beast,  
But I'll make the High Priest,  
And the rest shall no more dare thee sport on.  
Good Sovereign say on,  
Quoth Roger anon,  
For I am quite weary of Slavery:  
I swear by St. Peter  
If you'll give me a Mitre  
I'll serve you, be't Roguery or Knavery.  
I thank you, says Lion,  
Thy word I'll rely on;  
The Service that I then command thee,  
Is to teach that I must govern,  
Like an Absolute Sovereign,  
And that those will be damned that withstand me.  
Agreed, says the Ass,  
I will bring it to pass,  
And have passive Obedience in fashion;  
They shall all be called Traitors,  
And Monarchy-haters,  
From the Pulpits and Desks of the Nation.  
But it happened that the King,  
Harped on another String,  
And invaded the Rights of the Asses.  
Then Roger turned tail,  
'Gainst his Sovereign did rail,  
In his Preachments, his Prayers and Glasses.  

MORAL.  
Thus Tyrant Princes did make use of Priests,  
Their Subjects to transform from Men to Beasts.  
The time's well known, you need not ask me when,  
But e'er from Beasts they turn to Men again,  
The Priests must be reformed; such Reformation  
Is th' only Remedy can save the Nation.     

AESOP Returned from TUNBRIDGE.   

THE PREFACE.  
AESOP, it seems, has been a little disturbed of late, and it has been argued Pro & Con, amongst the Virtuosos, whether his Indisposition was the effect of Tunbridge Waters, or Company. He himself has absolved the Waters, and condemned the Company, which has obliged 'em in their own Justification to send him to Bedlam to have his own Brains set right, for endeavouring to rectify theirs.  
Since his Retirement two more have started up from  and Whitehal, that, like the two Demerrius' in Muscovy, need only be seen to discover the Imposture. But to avoid the Fate of their Predecessors of Tunbridge, they have taken Measures very different from his, and to save Dr. Tie— n the trouble of Purging their Brains, have agreed to carry none about 'em.  
Upon these comes yet another; whether with better Title than the former, is a question, Reader, we leave thee to decide. Only I shall take the liberty to give thee some Hints, for the better Information of thy Judgement. First then as to his Person, it has resemblance enough to Old Aesop's (or the Pisture of him, at least, at Planudes, and others, have drawn it) that had he left any Legitimate Issue behind him, Ours might very well plead his Figure in evidence of his Descent from the Old Beau of Samos; and the Posture and Condition of their Intellects, make out the Relation betwixt him and the Bully of Tunbridge. For this confesses himself out of his Wits when he writ, and tother, by universal Consent, mad to Write what he writ.  
But let me whisper one thing in thy Ear, upon condition of secrecy, if thou wilt give me thy Word and Honour not to disclose it to any Body, I'll assure thee they were both Mad, and so much the fit for the Task they have undertaken. For who the De— l but a Madman would venture to write Truth at this time of Day? To deal frankly, the Old Fellow before 'em was much such another sort of Spark. He either had, or thought he had Wit, which is much at one to an Author, and could never leave showing his Brains, till a parcel of Blockheads knocked 'em out. He took his Hint from the Women of his Time, who did as they do now, every one that could be convinced by her Glass, that she was no Beauty, set up for a Wit; and if she could not please People with her Face, could vex 'em with her Tongue, which was equivalent as to point of Self-satisfaction. For let either Vanity or Malice be gratified, and we are well enough. But as I was saying, Aesop imitated the Women in that Piece of Cunning; for 'tis apparent he could not the Men, for they have ned learned that Craft yet to Piece out the Defects of their Persons with a Superfluity of Understanding. But every Humpbacked, Hard-faced Scarecrow is dressed up in a Lac'd-Coat and a Long Wig, to set off its Deformity, and make it more gloriously Ridiculous; and the fine empty Thing, that Nature made, as the Chinese do their Baubles, for the Ornament of a Drawing-Room, is perpetually endeavouring to squeeze itself into the Press, and labouring in Dull Madrigal, or Scurvy Lampoon, to expose it's own want of Wit, and its Friend's, and not content with the Reputation of a Fool amongst its Acquaintance, must publish it in Print to the World.  
But what's all this, Reader, to thee and I, that be sure have more Wit? These Aesop's are Perilous Bold Fellows, and have Plaguy Tongues: But what of that? Let the Beast that is galled, wince; and let thee and I laugh to see 'em kick and sling like Ralpho's Ass with a Thistle under his Tail, 'tis nothing to us, that have (as I said before) Wit, then to come within the reach of one's Tongue, or tother's Heels: And so I take my leave of thee.   

AESOP Returned from TUNBRIDGE.  

FAB. I. Aesop sent to Bedlam.  
AESOP o'ercome with Wind and Spleen,  
At Tunbridge sought relief;  
In hopes that change of Air, and Scene,  
Might ease him of his Grief.  
But there such Shoals of Fools he met,  
And Knaves twice dipped in Grain;  
Not the famed Waters they were at,  
Could e'er take out the Stain.  
In vain a Friend among the Youth  
He sought all Tunbridge round;  
Till sneaking Solitary Truth  
He in a Corner found.  
Thus met, they readily agree,  
And did strange Tales devise,  
Labouring to make those Coxcombs see,  
That would put out their Eyes.  
Till nettled at their just Reproof,  
The Knaves and Fools combine;  
And him, and his Companion both  
To a dark Room confine.  
Next Stage, they knew not why nor how,  
For London they were bound:  
Where both of 'em together now,  
In Bedlam may be found.  
In vain we strive men's Error to correct,  
Or point out Follies, which themselves neglect.  
Fools are a stubborn Race, and hard to break  
Wisdom's the only Gift they scorn to take;  
And he that shows his Brains to such a Rout,  
Takes a fair way to have 'em beaten out.  
Wise Men in them alone mistake their Tools,  
Knaves only have the skill to manage Fools.  
Let empty Fops be proud of their Mishaps,  
For he that takes it off, deserves the Cap.   

FAB. II. The Wolf and Porcupine.  
A Hungry Wolf, that longed to Dine  
Upon a well fed Porcupine,  
Found he had need of all his Skill.  
To taste the Flesh, and scape the Quill:  
And therefore slily thus addressed,  
In Fawning Terms, the wary Beast.  
What is it Neighbour that you fear?  
What Enemy? what danger's near?  
What means this Magazine of Arms,  
When Treaties signed secure from Harms?  
When all Hostilities must cease,  
Why such a Guard in Times of Peace?  
Why will you now in Safety beat  
The Burden, and Expense of War?  
To whom the crafty Beast replied,  
These are not for Defence but Pride.  
For truly, Neighbour, as you say,  
They're useless at this time of Day,  
And I should be of your belief,  
Could I but see you draw your Teeth.  
Fr—ce is the wheedling Wolf, 'tis plain,  
That gapes for lucious Bit;  
And we know who's the Porcupine,  
But that she wants the Wit.  
What need of Fleets, or Armies now,  
That once were E—d's B●ast?  
Fr—ce to our Articles will bow,  
And guard the Spanish Coast.  
Let us disarm our Men of War,  
Since she such store equips;  
She'll save us that Expense and Care,  
And Convoy home our Ships.  
The Preparations at Campeign,  
And Breast, secure our Ports,  
They'll spare us Fifty Thousand Men,  
To Garrison our Forts.   

FAB. III. The Fox and Grapes.  
UPON a lusty Bunch of Grapes,  
A liquorish Fox had fixed his Eyes,  
Who licking of his watering Chaps,  
A thousand Tricks to reach it tries.  
But all his Wiles in vain assayed,  
Out of all hopes of getting nigh,  
What Fool for Unripe Trash, he said,  
Would risk his Neek to climb so high?  
That charming Fruit, (I dare allege)  
That looks so tempting and so fair,  
Will set some Coxcomb's Teeth on edge,  
Or draw some Fool into a Snare.  
Ambitious Men that miss their Aim,  
At least affect to be thought Wise,  
And court the Popular Esteem,  
By seeming honours to despise.  
Those whom the Mob their Patriots call,  
Factions and Jealousies foment;  
Masking with Common Good their Gall,  
And Public Zeal their Discontent,  
To busy Courts at first they throng,  
Till vexed, and hopeless to prevail,  
Or share in doing of the Wrong,  
In Senate's th'at Corruption rail,  
Courtier or Patriot by turns,  
The Hypocrite our Patience tries;  
Disgraced, our Grievances he mourns,  
Or laughs in place at Jealousies.   

FAB. iv The Priest and Pears.  

A Wanton Sloven of a Priest,  
Invited to a Bridal Feast,  
Under a Hedge upon the Ground,  
A Hoard of Mellow Pears had found.  
These were, quoth he, to hungry Sinner,  
That had no hopes of Wedding-Dinner,  
Brave tempting Morsels, a rich Prize,  
Which at this juncture I despise,  
Now to more Rarities engaged,  
Than e'er in Noah's Ark were caged;  
Fish, Fowl, Fruit, Sweetmeats to excite,  
And rouse a Foundered Appetite;  
Therefore sweet Pears this time, adieu,  
My Stomach will not stoop to you.  
Yet  we part we'll have a Jest,  
Then scornfully he on 'em Pist,  
And cried, who  these Pears shall eat,  
He shall have Sauce as well as Meat.  
This done, impatient of delay,  
He jocundly pursued his Way,  
Most happy in Imagination,  
Chewing the Cud of Expectation.  
Till to a Brook approaching nigh,  
By Rains late fallen swelled so high,  
That 'twas impossible to pass;  
His rumbling Stomach called him Ass.  
And bid him Ford, or Swim the Flood,  
And make his vapring Promise good,  
Or, spite of all his Scoffs and Jeers,  
He, Sauce and all, should eat the Pears.   

The Priest, who Belly dearly loved,  
At this Reproach was strangely moved;  
Yet his unhappy case was such,  
He hated Danger full as much.  
At Disappointment sore dejected,  
He sadly on the Pears reflected:  
He was by Word and Honour bound  
To stand to't, and maintain his ground.  
And now the Pears so lovely grew,  
That Water from both ends they drew.  
He therefore all his cunning Bent,  
To find out some Expedient,  
To prove himself this once mistaken,  
And save his Credit and his Bacon.  
Inward he turned his sullen Looks,  
And rummaging o'er all his Books,  
He met an ancient Convocation,  
That funished him with an Evasion.  
Quoth he, they could not be my due,  
Nor might I seize 'em till I knew,  
And Providence had time to prove,  
This heap of Pears was Treasure trouve;  
But now I plainly understand,  
They truly are a Deodand;  
And he that Abdicates 'em here,  
Has lost all Title to one Pear.  
And I should be a Fool no doubt,  
Should I stand any longer out.  
As for the Slain I cast on these,  
Myself can wipe it off with ease.    

FAB. V The Ass and Spaniel.  

A Weary Ass under his Pack,  
Stood tied up to an empty Rack,  
And spied a Spaniel brisk, and gay,  
As in his Master's lap he lay,  
That frisked about, and had the grace  
To climb his Shoulders, lick his Face,  
was always plentifully fed,  
And from his hand received his Bread.  
Hard difference betwixt, quoth he.  
That happy, idle Cur, and Me.  
He daily is with Dainties served,  
While I, that drudge for all, am starved.  
But since he thrives so well by Play,  
I'll try my Fortune the same way.  
Thus having formed his Resolution,  
He waits a time for Execution.  
Which found, erecting Tail, and Ears,  
On Hinder-feets himself he rears,  
His Fore-feets on his Master lays,  
And with his Tongue besmears his Face.  
The Man, who guessed not his intent.  
Nor dreamt of such a Compliment,  
Surprised, and vexed, and half afraid,  
To Servants calls aloud for aid,  
To help him to correct th' Offence,  
And sore chastise this Insolence.  
And since Ass was so rampant grown  
He bids 'em take his Commons down;  
And henceforth bare Subsistance pay  
Of half Allowance  day.   

The Ass thus mortified, and sore,  
Vexed for his Bones, but Belly more,  
Cried, What a stupid  am I,  
My Talon thus to misapply?  
Who only for a Drudge am fit,  
And yet must set up for a Wit.  
Art may refine, and finish Nature's Fool,  
But no Buffoon succeeds, that goes by Rule;  
For Fooling prettily's a Gift of Nature's,  
That sits but aukwardly on Imitators.  
The lively, airy Marmouset, as soon  
May be out-frolickt by the grave Baboon,  
As Nature by dull Mimics of the Town.  
If Squirrel D D—y frisk on his Beholders,  
Must the Ass Gilled— n ramp upon their Shoulders,  
If Congreve flattered M—nt— gue before,  
Must be by Gilled— n too be slavered o'er?  
No wonder Sots, when we this Clod caress,  
Presume to claim the Deuce of neat Address.  
Such Poets should at Westminster untruss,  
And there receive the meed of Chaerilus;  
Yet I could spare the Sot, whoever repines.  
Could he like him produce but seven good Lines.  
But he expects Rewards, to blaze our Shame,  
For daring to buffoon a mighty Name.  
Let others judge, if he deserves the Rod,  
Who treats his Patron worse even than his God.  
What other Names will this vile Wretch blaspheme?  
For 'tis a Libel to be praised by him.  
But he now feels the Fate he does deserve,  
And knows already what it is to starve.  
Henceforth, ye Great, tender your Reputations,  
Your Honours suffer by such Dedications  
With Justice we may pay for Kneller 's hand,  
But who at Charges would on Sign-posts stand?  
If then the Author's dull to such degree,  
How stupid must the Sol that pays him be?    

FAB. VI The Grasshopper and the Ant.  

A Grasshopper once thus accosted an Ant.  
You know, Sir, what we Men of Quality want,  
'Tis the Favour to lend me some Grains of your Store,  
For, Faith, at this minute, I am very poor.   

This Summer's Expenses have drawn me so low,  
I can scarce in the Park make my Figure, I vow.  
This comes on't, replied the frugal grave Citt,  
When Extravagance only's the measure of Wit.  
Had your Parents but bred you to Business, your Parts  
Might have got an Estate, now you have your Deserts.   

Says the Grasshopper, what would you have me to do,  
I'm not made for Work, besides I'm a Bean;  
I Sing, and I Dance, and all the fine Wether.  
I'm at Epsom or Tunbridge, or Bath, choose you whether  
Ask all the Beau Monde, and the Ladies if e'er  
They had Music, or Ball, if I was not there.  
ev'ry Evening I my Compliment made.  
And treated with many a fine Serenade.   

'Tis pity the Ladies, quoth Ant, not to rally,  
Don't commiserate one, Sir, of your belle taillè,  
Your Youth, nor Estate neither of 'em can tarry,  
Look Sharp, Sir, about for a Fortune, and Marry,  
For trading so dead, and our Taxes so hard,  
Not a Farthing can out of our Business be spared  
But comfort! The Fleet, or King's-Bench, if you ask it,  
Will find you a Lodging, and Meat from the Basket.   

MORAL.  
Fops that would starve far want of Sense,  
Petticoat Refugees,  
Ought much to thank that Providence,  
Which made 'em Women please.  
Swarms that had Rotten in Jayl.  
Yet want Sense to pay  
Thanks to that Smock that was their Bail,  
But throwed like a Rag away.  
Yet luckless thousands still contrive  
To spread like Butterflies,  
That like Beau Atkinson must live,  
Or like Beau Norton die,    

FAB. VII. The Ass and jupiter.  
A Gardener had a lazy Ass  
That hated a hard working place,  
And offered his Petition  
To Jove, with many a Sigh, and Groan,  
Which moved him by continued moan  
To pity his Condition,  
Jove, when his unjust prayer had heard,  
Next to a Potter him preferred;  
At which in Consternation,  
The Ass once more in doleful Dumps,  
Falling again upon his Stump,  
Renews his Supplication.  
Grant me my Suit once more, Great Jove  
Says he, I'll ask no third remove,  
From any third Disaster;  
What e'er you order, I'm content  
To undergo the Punishment  
Of any other Master.  
Oh! could You but this Grace afford!  
The God strait took him at his word,  
And placed him with a Tanner;  
The Ass grown wise, when 'twas too late,  
Bewails his Folly, and his Fate,  
In lamentable manner.  
What with the Gardener did I lack,  
My Bellyful, at ease my Back?  
The Potter gave me: quarter.  
But this third Service I am in,  
Will strip me of my very Skin,  
And make me Folly's Martyr.  
A murmuring Mind is ne'er content,  
With any sort of Government;  
And Princes strive in vain to please,  
Such restless Spirits as know no ease.  
When Taxes make Malcontent,  
Whom Wealth, and Power, made Insolent;  
What Measures must a Ruler take,  
To spare his Back, and save his Neck?  
In vain they kick at Slavery,  
Who grudge the charge of being free.   

FAB. VIII. The Owl and Bat.  

A Fierce dispute 'twixt Birds of Night  
Arose about their Gifts, and Light;  
The Owl and Bat aloud contended,  
Which was by Nature best befriended,  
Wrangling with clamorous Contest  
Which saw the clearest, and the best;  
Till from high Words, and angry Speeches,  
They came to Personal Reproaches.   

Quoth Madge, insulting o'er the Bat.  
What would this Flittermouse be at?  
Thou Mongrel Vermine art at most,  
And but half Bird thyself canst boast.   

The Bat replied with indignation,  
Make to yourself the Application;  
You're some Beast's Bastard it appears,  
As I'll demonstrate by your Ears.  
But what is this to our Dispute,  
If I am Vermine, you're a Brute.   

Then let's agree, the Owl replied,  
And by the Sun our Cause betrayed.  
A Nightingale that hard by sate,  
Thus undertook to Arbitrate:  
How shall the Sun decide your Case,  
When neither can endure his Face?  
've said enough of Bats and Owls,  
To prove both purblind Knaves and Fools.  
The Bats, and Owls, of Pinner's-Hall,   

This Fable may apply;  
These Night-Birds representing all  
The Pastors, and their Fry.  
If any would know, whom they fit,  
Their Contraversies read;  
And see how oft the Sticks are split,  
To break each other's Head,  
But let 'em not the Truth come near,  
Nor venture into Light;  
For He that does barefaced appear,  
Will show a Hypocrite.  
While they against each other bawl,  
They the whole World convince.  
And plainly show their wa●t to all  
Of Faith, as well as Sense.    

FAB. IX. Sharpers and Cullies.  
TWo Sharpers once to Gaming fell,  
In a large Company;  
And managed their Intrigue so well,  
They drew in Standards by.  
They wrangled, quarrelled, and called names,  
And played with so much heat;  
That no one jealous of a shame,  
Suspected 'twas a Cheat,  
But when the Gamesters numerous grew,  
And store of Cullies came;  
Each from the other took his cue,  
To manage right his Game.  
A long time doubtful was the Scale,  
The odds uncertain were;  
For they do all by turns prevail.  
And none great losers are.  
Till ev'ry one at length was dipped,  
And mighty sums were laid;  
The wink, one of the Jugglers tipped,  
And so the Cheat betrayed.  
But this discovery came to late,  
For now the Game was won;  
An empty Pocket was their Fate,  
And all the Fools undone.  
Ex— B-nk, and the Exchange,  
East-Indians Old and New,  
And all the World this very Game,  
Too busily pursue.  
Notes, Bills and Stock, and Actions fall,  
Or without Reason rise;  
Just as the Jugglers at Wh—hal,  
Or M—cer's Chapel please.  
The great One's have Shame fall out,  
To draw the Lesser in;  
But the true Quarrel is, not who,  
But how much each shall win.  
And when the small One's give their Voice,  
Who shall be most Empowr'd;  
They have but Liberty of Choice,  
By whom they'll be devoured.   

FAB. X. The Wolf and Dog.  
A Half famished Wolf met a jolly fat Dog,  
That was let out for Air, and freed from th' Clog.  
Quoth Isgrim, Friend Towzer, thou hast what I lack,  
How comest thou by all this good Flesh on thy back?  
Says Towzer, I lodge, and am fed at Wh—hal,  
I live like a Prince, and do nothing but bawl.  
You live like a Felon, by paltry Sheep-stealing,  
But if you'll be ruled, and use double-dealing,  
I'll help you to mighty Preferment at C—rt.  
And you shall pay nothing, but Flattery for't.  
Quoth Isgrim, I like the Conditions so well,  
I long till I'm there, for I soon should excel;  
I can cringe like a Beau, and humour My Lord,  
And praise ev'ry foppish Nonsensical word.  
'Tis enough, says the Cur; so onward they jogged.  
Till Towzer, who often was collared and clogged,  
Like a Cur of good Manners in bowing betrayed  
The Ring on his Neck, which the Collar had made.  
Says the crafty fly Wolf, in that Circle some Spell  
I suppose is contained, by which you live well.  
'Tis only, says Towzer, ne'er mind it I pray,  
Some lose hair my Collar has fretted away.  
Says Isgrim, I own you, Sir, thanks for this gra●e,  
But if there's a Collar, that altars the case.  
I'll purchase my Place by by no such submission,  
But forage the Woods, and not alter Condition.  
The Wealth, and the Power of great Places please all,  
Who would shun the Fatigue, they're encumbered withal.  
They would have the Profit without the Attendance,  
And shift of the burden of slavish dependence.  
But here they may see by the Wolf, and the Dog,  
They that will have the Fat, must submit to the Clog.   

FAB. XI. False Piety.  

A Sick Man lay at point of Death,  
Just ready to resign his Breath.  
Hard by the Bed his tender Wife  
Stood, weeping, with Outrageous Grief;  
Waiting the Moment that should six,  
And make her his Executrix.  
She wrung her Hands, and tore her Hair,  
And put up many a fervent Prayer.   

Will Cruel Death, she raving cried,  
No other Way be satisfied?  
Oh! will ye on no Terms relent?  
Will he take no Equivalent?  
So far below thee Life I prise,  
I'll be thy willing Sacrifice.  
Remorseless Death, attend my Call,  
Who thy devoted Victim fall.   

All this, Death was at hand, and heard;  
Obeyed the Summons, and appeared.  
The Wife, who thought of nothing less,  
Confounded at his Readiness.  
Surprised, amazed, and Terrified,  
Strait snatched the Candle up, and cried;  
Pray, let me light you, Sir; I know  
Your Errand, and will wait on you.  
My Husband's Time; alas! is come,  
And he lies ready in the Room:  
His Doctors too have done you Wrong,  
To keep him from you, here, thus long.   

MORAL.  
Where Interest rules, and Profit lies at Stake,  
All sorts of People large Professions make.  
But, as in Trade, when Men on Credit buy,  
The Wise sispect their Pay that bid too high:  
So in all Obligations that include  
More than a Favour's worth in Gratitude,  
False we conclude, or rash the Vows they make;  
And only upon Force their Words we take.  
So have we known, not many Ages since,  
By Sham-Caresses, a deluded Prince  
Indulge his Foes; and to their Measures yield,  
Woe did his Ruin on his Favour build.  
We know, when Words were wanting to express  
The Timpany of Zeal in each Address,  
The Trifles Blood and Treasure, to a Drop,  
Devoted were, and daily offered up:  
The crowded Gazettes did a loud proclaim  
The hollow Promises, that thronging came  
But when his Wants their real Aid required,  
And he their boasted Services desired,  
Th' Ungrateful Viper's lusty grown, and strong,  
The Bosom, in Return, that warmed 'em, stung;  
Happy was he that first could get away,  
And him, they promised to support, betray.    

FAB. XII. The Wolf turned Preacher.  
A Wolf, whom Health and Strength had left,  
Was fallen into Want;  
Unable to subsist on Theft,  
Resolved to be a Saint.  
In a short Cloak, and little Band,  
The New-converted Preacher,  
By Means of Formal Tone, and Cant,  
Was grown a famous Teacher.  
Shoals of the Mob he daily caught,  
With Sin-confounding Texts, Sirs:  
No precious, painful Brother taught  
More Edifying Lectures.  
At length a Rakehell of the Wood,  
That had found out his Haunt,  
Cried, Thou wilt make, Old Ne'er be Good,  
The Devil of a Saint.  
Come, lay the Masquerade aside,  
And let your Comrade know  
What Roguery you hid,  
That's worth Transforming so.  
Oh! quoth the Old Apostate Wolf,  
Thy lewd Dicentious Ear  
Is scarce yet sanctified enough,  
These precious Truths to hear.  
Like you I ranged at large; and none  
More rampant was, while young:  
But now my Teeth and heels are gone,  
I For age with my Tongue.  
I wheedle, flatter, cant, and pray;  
Dissemble, fawn, and lie:  
The silly Rout think all I say  
Mere Gospel-Verity.  
To me all trust; both Young, and Old;  
Smooth Kids, and tender Lambs:  
I have the Culling of the Fold,  
And milking of the Dams.  
You may perchance a Lamb surprise;  
But if you should be seen,  
The parish, with their Curs, would rise,  
And strip you of your Skin.  

MORAL.  
Let empty Fops of Playhouse Conquest vaunt,  
And toast the Lass that did the Favour grant:  
Beau's may by vain, and feigned Intrigues recite;  
But the true Lecher, is, the Hypocrite.  
And B— g-ss, in his Tub, debauches more  
Than ever Meggs did on that Spot before.  
The godly have the Gifts, the Wicked want;  
For Scandal only's sinful in a Saint.  
Thy Maids their brawny Pastour's Silence trust;  
And make them Heroes in Records of Lust.  
For this Moor-Feilds and Tunbridge must be prized;  
But Cr— o, B—ll and Wallis Canonised.    

FAB. XIII. The satire and the Traveller.  

I.  
TO his poor Cell a satire led  
A Traveller, with Cold half dead;  
And with great Kindness treated:  
A Fire, Nose-high, he made him strait;  
Showed him his Elbow-Chair of State,  
And near the Chimney seated.   

II.  
His tingling Hands the Stranger blows;  
At which the satire wondering, rose,  
And humbly asked the Reason.  
Sir, quoth the Man, I mean no Harm;  
I only do't, my Hands to warm,  
In this Cold, Frosty Season.   

III.  
The satire gave him, from the Pot,  
A mess of Porridge, piping hot:  
The Man blowed o'er his Grewel.  
What's that for, Friend? the satire cried.  
To cool my Broth, his Guest replied:  
And Truth, Sir, is a Jewel.   

iv  
How! quoth his Host; Then is it so?  
And can you Contradictions blow?  
Turn out, and leave my Cottage.  
This honest Mansion ne'er shall hold  
Such Rascals as blow Hot and Cold:  
The Devil must find you Pottage.   

MORAL.  
The C—'s desired, that in their next Choice.  
They'd be pleased, from this Fable, to take good Advice:  
For a man that two Churches at once has in view,  
sham's both in their turns, and to neither is true.     

AESOP AT AMSTERDAM.   

Epistle Dedicatory, TO Old AESOP at Whitehal, etc.  
FATHER,  
WHERE the Devil have you been all this while? It is now ever since the fifty fourth Olympiad you died at Delphos, and to arise again at Whitehal is very remarkable. I am now apt to believe the Doctrine of Transmigration, and that your Soul having past the Habitations of the Bodies of the Horse, the Ass, and other Beasts, you're now informing the Body of a Courtier. Good Dad! done't come too near me, you stink most damnably of Sulphur, I'm almost suffocated. You have been lamentably paid off in t'other Country; your Clothes are horridly bedaubed with liquid Bitumen, Links, Flambeaux and Card-matches; you make a very indifferent Figure indeed Father. What Country you have been in I can't tell, but by your new Fables I find you have lived under a Monarchical Government, and are mightily in love with it, as are my Two elder Brothers of Tunbridge and ; but you youngest Son, my Right Worshipful self, begs your Pardon if he don't jump with you and the rest of his Brethren in their Notions of Government. You can't tell, Father, what a lamentable spot of work you have made with the Fables you wrote the first time you lived; the sour Pedagogues have made the blind Cheeks of many a Boy as raw as a piece of Beef, because they could not understand 'em; nay I have been persecuted myself upon the same account. Besides, Sir, your Fables have been the foundation of abundance of Lies; your Book serves instead of a Charter to the Mythologists of all Ages; you stand in competition even with the Devil himself, which shall be the reputed Father of Liars. And one would think after you had slept so many Years, your Consultation with your Pillow might have afforded you better Thoughts. 'Tis pity, Father, you and I should fall out after so long absence; but you ought to allow us that live upon the surface of the Terrestrial Globe, to see farther than you, who have been so many Years embowelled in the Caverns of the Earth: Indeed, Father, I would advise you to return home again unless you had brought better Notions with you from t'other Country; for those possessed with your Notions here, we esteem either Stupid or Mad. Now being in this place, Father, and breathing in a free Air, I can talk of nothing but Freedom, Liberty and Property, I hope, if it does offend the Assertors of Tyranny, they'll consider I am in a common Asylum, and out of their reach.  
AMSTERDAM   

AESOP AT AMSTERDAM.  

FAB. I. The Summons.  
THE mighty Puss, not long since ruled the State,  
Beneath a lonesom Furzbush purring sat;  
Stroked her long Smellers, and rejoiced to see  
Her awful Picture in her Progeny:  
Mean while her Kitlings dance before her face,  
And toss, like trembling Mice, the Roots of Grass.  
Not one amongst 'em but a Claw does wear,  
Fit a Monarchic Tyrant Rat to tear.  
The Good old Cause informed the Mother's Breast,  
Darts through their Eyes, is by their mein expressed.  
Such, such the ancient Race of Heroes were,  
Who did their Rights before their Lives prefer.  
She calls one to her, of the eldest brood;  
Dost know, said she, how drowned in native Blood  
My Country lies? how the wild Boars invade  
The Land, and desert have my Country laid?  
'Tis true, I once did ease 'em of their Pain;  
But they, like Fools, embraced again the Chain;  
Wear those dull Fetters I so kindly broke,  
And halt, like Slaves, beneath the servile Yoke.  
Once more I'll try, if my Advice may prove  
Successful, once exert my ancient Love;  
Summon the Slaves to meet at Whitehal Gate,  
Beneath the Scaffold where I whilom sat,  
And punish Tyranny, the worst of Crimes;  
A just example unto future Times.  
Young Puss the Message takes, and bids fair warning  
To all the Slaves t'appear the next Morning.   

FAB. II. The Interview.  

THE Morning come, the Slaves await,  
And flock like Bees 'bout Whitehal Gate.  
Some yoked, like Country Hogs appear;  
Others confounded Fetters wear,  
And some most horrid Burdens bear.  
Thus loaded, thus enslaved, oppressed;  
Nature, 'tis strange, don't call for rest:  
Tho legs are galled, and shoulders sore,  
The bulky Slaves still crave for more:  
And not an Idiot of the Town  
Has sense to lay his Burden down.  
Straight Puss in majesty appears,  
Mounting the Scaffold, pricks her Ears,  
Shakes her Majestic Head, aloud  
She thus bespoke the numerous Crowd.   

I have deserted long the nauseous Town,  
Mourning my Country's Ruin, and my own  
Exposed to Tyranny, whilst Beasts of prey  
Ravage my Fields, and steal my Lambs away.  
My Freeborn Subjects now are forced to bear  
Loads, which more fit for backs of Camels are;  
You well deserve the Fetters you do wear.  
You under heavy iron Shakels pine,  
Whose Fathers did in glorious Armour shine,  
Through fields of Blood to Freedom cut their way,  
And taught the proudest Tyrants to obey;  
By me supported, potent Tyrants fell  
A Sacrifice to their just Cause and Hell;  
No more, no more their sacred Lineage stain,  
No more their Name in your cursed Race profane.  
Let not their Offspring such Alliance have,  
Shackles were ne'er the Trophies of the Brave;  
They could wide Conquests, and just Honours boast,  
But you, dull Slaves! have all your Freedom lost.  
Where e'er a Tyrant raised his impious Head,  
Strait their bold Hands struck the damned Monst'r dead  
Had you a spark of ancient Honour left,  
You should not long be of thy Aid bereft;  
My Claws are hard and sharp as e'er they were,  
As fit a Tyrant and his Rats to tear.  
The Villains that support a Tyrant Crown,  
This angry Tail will horridly sweep down;  
Shake off your Fetters once, and you shall see,  
I'll once more save you from cursed Slavery.   

She said, and away galloped amain,  
But in hopes they their Sense would recover again;  
For a Doctor will never the Fatigue endure.  
To heal such dull Blockheads, that don't love the Cure.    

FAB. III. The Frogs Concern.  
A Generous Race of croaking Frogs,  
Which lay entrenched betwixt two Bogs.  
Who as the morning Sun did shine,  
Daily increased their stock divine;  
Just as the Solar Influence burned,  
Prolific spawn to Life was turned,  
Until the young ones had at length  
An equal Vigour, equal Strength.  
So numerous at length they prove,  
They supplicate mighty Jove;  
A King and Governor they crave,  
As other Beasts and Infects have:  
But Jove allowed all Mortal Elves,  
To choose a Monarch for themselves.  
The Croaking Elders now consult  
About a King, and the Result  
Was, that a neighbouring Log should be  
Executor of Monarchy.  
About the Log their Heads they raise,  
In sounds uncouth they croak his Praise:  
At length some crawl upon his Top,  
And frisk about, and croak and hop:  
Says one Frog, Here's fine business done,  
Was e'er a King thus trampled one?  
'Troth, says another ancient Frog,  
We'll ne'er be governed by a Log;  
The heat at length so far arose,  
They did the Loggerhead depose.  
To new Election they proceed,  
And to their Hearts content succeed;  
A neighbouring Stork at length they chose,  
Which should their Heats and Feuds compose:  
He took upon him the Command  
Of all the People in Frogland;  
But he as t'other 'fore had done,  
Made it an Arbitrary Throne;  
Up from the Mud the Frogs would pick,  
And squeeze their Corpse within his Beak,  
One Frog much wiser than the rest,  
To these about him thus addressed:  
Good Friends, this is confounded work;  
Shall we be governed by a Stork;  
To have our Bones in pieces torn,  
Our young ones eat just as they're born?  
As if Kings only had a Power  
To ruin Subjects and devour;  
I think 'tis just to choose again:  
The brood of Frogs all croaked, Amen.  
The next they chose was a dull Ass,  
Which proved as bad as t'other was;  
For tho' he was not so malicious,  
His folly made him as pernicious;  
Stumbling on Empire, oft he stood  
Upon his Subjects choak's in Mud:  
Whole beds of Spawn he did destroy,  
At every flounce did Frogs annoy.  
The Devil's in't, said one, for we  
In choosing Kings still wretched be.  
Thus often we have chose a King,  
And still have found it the same thing.   

FAB. iv The Kees and the Hornet.  
A Hive of Bees had plundered every Field,  
And every Herb dees Wax or Honey yield:  
Large Troops of Winged force they daily arm,  
Large as the Flocks that about Hybla swarm;  
From distant Fields did every Evening come,  
Loaden with Sweets and wholesome Honey home:  
Blest with abundant Wealth the Sworm does thrive  
Beneath the Blessings of a well-stocked Hive.  
But Wealth and Luxury together go,  
And Bees, when rich, do vain and wanton grow;  
Pampered with Food, they loathe their happy Face,  
And Changelings like, attempt to change their State.  
Large Herds they saw, as they abroad did rove,  
Governed by Monarches, by the leave of Jove.  
They Jupiter invoke, that also he  
Would please to favour them with Monarchy.  
Jove from Olympus nodding gave consent,  
And straight the Bees to an Election went.  
An overgrown Hornet in an Oaken-Tree,  
Was what they choose, and must their sovereign be:  
For Bulk and Valour was elected King,  
The greatest Warrior ever drew a Sting.  
His Paunch more Honey still did bear away  
Then ten strong Bees could gather in a Day.  
But what was worse, he often would invite  
His Family to dine and sup at Night:  
His numerous favourites did devour more  
Than his small Regions ever saw before;  
His lazy Drones did more Provision spoil,  
Than is the product of a Summer's toil.  
The Bees thus robbed of all their Honey, grieve;  
'Tis Winter too, they know not how to live.  
Their Monarch goes to rob another Swarm,  
And there remain till Summer's heat shall warm.  
The Bees bereaved of all their Nourishment,  
Their Wax decayed, and all their Honey spent;  
Around their Hive their Obsequies they sing,  
Lament their Fortune, and they curse their King.   

FAB. V The Lion and Fox.  
A Youthful Lion in the Wood,  
Of Bulk and Nature strong;  
Still used to ravening and to blood,  
And came to Empire young:  
He too, as other Monarch's use,  
New Methods did pursue:  
His Father's favourites did refuse;  
And chose a set of new.  
He having loved, and used to gore;  
An arbitrary sway,  
A base, a wild Despotic Power  
His Subjects must obey.  
But want of Brains do still attend  
Unlimited Command:  
And therefore he would have some Friend  
Might Business understand.  
There was a cunning Fox lived near,  
For many years had killed  
The neighbouring Lambs and Poultry there,  
With Bones his Kennel filled.  
He summoned Reynard to appear,  
Next Night, at Council Board.  
Which Reynard did, and when was there,  
Looked grave as any Lord.  
The Lion told him he must be  
The chief Support of State.  
At which kind Reynard bowed his Knee,  
And wished him better Fate.  
O, says the Lion, thou art skilled  
In Arbitrary Sway:  
Thou many Beasts and Fowls hast killed,  
To govern knowst the way.  
Ask and I'll give thee any thing,  
Is in my Power to give:  
Thou shalt be next unto the King  
As long as I do live.  
Quoth Reynard, make me then the Priest,  
I'll make all Beasts your Slaves:  
The Body You, I Soul at least,  
Wi'll tyrannize by halves.  
Thus Fate did Men to thraldom bring,  
Oppressed just like a Beast;  
Rod, spurred, and whipped by such a King,  
And ●ke so lewd a Priest.   

FAB. VI The Weesil, Rats and Mice.  
A Mighty Weesil of Renown,  
Well versed in things of State,  
Was chosen King all o'er the Town,  
Of all the Mice and Rats.  
His Coronation Day was come,  
And all the Grandees meet  
The Weesil in a gaudy Room,  
And bow beneath his Feet.  
His Chair of State was Rind of Cheese,  
And o'er his Royal Head  
Some Bacon swered in goodly guise,  
Like Canopy was spread.  
At length he walks and struts about,  
Like any Lord or Duke;  
Sometimes he does one Subject flout,  
And sometimes one rebuke.  
He calls an aged Rat aside,  
And asked him his advice,  
Whether a Project mayn't be tried  
To eat up all the Mice.  
Ay, quoth the Rat, your Majesty  
May be well satisfied.  
Mice haters are of Monarchy,  
And Regal State deride.  
The Rats and Weesils now devour  
The Mice in piteous sort,  
They die the Cellars with their Gore,  
And with their Bones they sport.  
At length the Mice are all destroyed,  
The Weesils and the Rats  
Would other Food find out abroad,  
But that they feared the Cats.  
The Weesils now together plot,  
How they the Rats may eat;  
Provision must be daily got,  
Kings must have sumptuous Meat.  
The Rats now all do go to pot:  
Some Baked, some Boiled, some Roasted;  
'Tis hoped they had not then forgot  
How they the Mice accosted.  
Thus some Men oft by Tyrant Power.  
Their Kindred, Subject Slaves devour,  
Do all the Villainies are done  
To prop a beastly Tyrant Throne;  
Tho' others Blood the Tyrant filled,  
They must at length to's Fury yield;  
Nought stops a Tyrant's Course but Decollation,  
Or else a modern Abdication.   

FAB. VII. Lubberland.  
A Land there is, as Maps do tell,  
(Tho' they describe it not right well)  
Nor near the Hot nor Frigid Zone,  
But Latitude of fifty one;  
In Nature's plenty does abound,  
With Fruits and Flocks is amply crowned:  
The Natives never are content  
But with tyrannic Government;  
They Men resemble by their Faces,  
But by their Backs resemble Asses  
For each is born with a great pack,  
A warlike Saddle on his Back,  
Which does adorn the parts are upper.  
On neither parts they wear a Crupper.  
Their Kings, as 'tis decreed by Jove,  
Do always jump down from above.  
Armed Capapee with Boots and Spurs,  
Just fit to mount such servile Curs:  
With Hunting-Whips they daily maul'em  
And with long rolled Spurs do gall 'em.  
He only is the great Bravado,  
Has most the Regal Bastinado.  
They leap and jump, and frisk and skip,  
And sing the Praises of the Whip:  
They bear the Lash without bogging,  
Extol the Royal Art of flogging.  
With Blanket-Coat and wooden-Shoes,  
The Man the Camel scarce out does.  
Whilst Freemen feed on Dainties fine,  
These do on Bread and Garlic dine;  
And if they spend a Sous in Wine,  
The Health drank round must always be;  
Their Kings applauded Tyranny;  
Still let 'em be cursed Slaves for me.   

FAB. VIII. Hawk and Birds.  

I.  
A Hawk, that of Yore  
Had long weltered in Gore,  
And many a Sparrow had killed;  
By the Birds she was told,  
Now he was grown old,  
He his number of Sins had fullfiled.   

II.  
No, said the old Hawk  
My Actions to balk  
If you shall but once thus combino,  
The Gods will avenge,  
My Cause will revenge,  
I may murder ye Jure Divino.   

III.  
The Gods, said the Birds,  
We'll not take their words;  
If 've begin you an Absolute Power,  
've begin us a part,  
Is not worth a Fart,  
While you have a Right to devour.   

iv  
The Birds all agreed,  
And thus 'twas decreed,  
That Slaves they no longer would be;  
They throttled their King,  
Then sweetly did sing  
The Praises of free Liberty.    

FAB. IX. The Owl and the Mice.  
THE harmless Mice by Tyranny oppressed,  
And by the Owls vast insolence distressed,  
Came to a consult, where they did debate  
Of Means to save their yet declining State.  
Up stands a Mouse of generous noble Blood,  
Free from the Fears of the more slavish Brood;  
Says he, my Project, Sirs, I hope will take,  
We'll tie a Bell about the Owls damned Neck:  
Thus when the Tyrant's Bell does ever toll  
Each Mouse secures himself within his hole.  
At which a Mouse for Courage famed, arose,  
And did as follows to the rest propose;  
Brethren, says he, this Enterprise is vain,  
There is no end of this Tyrannic Reign,  
As long as Owl, or any of his kind,  
Shall here Dominion and an Empire find:  
You may hang Bells about his Neck, but then  
He pecks it off, and turns an Owl again.  
Let's try for once, since our Condition's so,  
What bold Micean Potentates can do.  
The only way to guard our Empire well,  
Is both to rid out selves of Owl and Bell.  
Thus we our State and Freedom shall repair,  
And live as our Forefathers were.   

FAB. X. Neptune and the Fishes.  
NEptune the God of the Tempestuous Deep,  
When's Brother Boreas hushed the Storms asleep;  
Upon a Rock erected had his Throne,  
His Chair of State was carved out of the Stone;  
On either hand the lovely Mermaids sat,  
The glittering Pageants of the Monarch's State;  
The golden Tresses which their Heads adorn.  
Died with the yellow glittering of the Morn.  
He shook his Trident when both far and near  
His Guard du Corpse of Tritons shook for fear;  
One he commanded straight to go and tell.  
All Clans of Fish beneath the Surface dwell,  
That to his Court they presently repair,  
Away the Triton flounced as swift as Air,  
The scaly Tribes in endless numbers flock  
And rendevouz before the Royal Rock;  
Neptune in State unto the brink did go,  
An viewed the numerous Shoals of Fish below:  
Then pointing to the Mermaids, thus he said,  
See there the lovely work the Gods have made,  
By them and Nature destined for my own,  
The just Supporters of my virtuous Throne.  
My Pleasure is, that every sort of Fish,  
For them do every Day provide a Dish.  
The best and wholesom'st Fish of every sort,  
And bring them every Day unto the Court.  
Each Fish beneath the Surface downward darts,  
But glide along with very heavy Hearts;  
In vain, says one, the heavenly Sun does burn,  
Warm the vast Deep, and Spawn to Fishes turn:  
The Gods its seem thus Neptune has empowered,  
And we are born only to be devoured;  
Our Offspring still must pay their Parents Scores,  
Made for a Tyrant's Food, and Bawds and's Whores  
When vast lascivious Paunches spend always,  
More than the numerous Shoals of Fish can raise.  
No more, said he, by my consent, we'll own  
A Tyrant's Empire, but abjure his Throne;  
The watery Tribes the Motion did approve,  
And to his Station every one did move.   

FAB. XI. The Asylum.  
THE Princes once did all combine,  
The People's Liberty to mine;  
Would make 'em right or wrong obey  
An absolute Despotic Sway:  
One Method, was to make us poor,  
By loading Taxes more and more;  
For when to Poverty Men fall,  
They easily are brought to thrall:  
And when their Spirit's sunk and gone,  
Tyrants may lay vast Burdens on.  
This did in some, in all it could  
Not do: Some Men had better Blood,  
And tho' they could not mend their Fate  
They murmured at the Tyrant's hate;  
Which so incensed the Tyrant's Ire,  
Some they condemned to ravenous fire;  
Some were to slavish Galleys sent,  
Others in Fetters did lament.  
Some Men were strangled in their Beds,  
Others were hanged, some lost their Heads;  
Some whipped till bleeding Backs were killed,  
The Lands with Tyranny were filled;  
But those whom better luck and hap  
Did favour with a wished escape,  
A City on Batavian Shoar,  
Did shelter from the Ills before;  
Where native Liberty does thrive,  
And no cursed Tyranny can live.  
Long live great City, Favourite of Heaven,  
And never want those Blessings thou hast given.    

A Dialogue between Bow-Steeple DRAGON, AND THE Exchange GRASSHOPPER.   

Ecclesia & Factio. A DIALOGUE, etc.  Dragon. 
TEll me, proud Insect, since thou canst not Fly,  
By what assistance thou art Hopped so high:  
The busy swarms of Gnats and Wasps around  
With Hum, and Buz, thy Revelations sound,  
And cry in thee (alone) their happiness is found.  
Me they Despise, and thee they Praise aloud,  
Admire thee, and Adore thee as a God:  
Misled by false Enthusiastic Light,  
've raised thee now to a Destructive height,  
Who restless strivest, by thy accustomed ways,  
To slain those Glories, which thou ne'er couldst raise;  
And like your Dam (the Babylonian Beast)  
Cry down those Truths (by which Mankind are Blest)  
Which Reason, well as Faith, makes manifest.  Grasshopper. 
Thy Scaly Body, and Aspiring Wings,  
Thy furious Talons, and thy frightful Stings,  
Makes thee seem Monstrous to our milder Flock,  
Who Dreaded once, but now Disdains thy Yoke:  
You'd bind our Souls, b'Omnipotence made free,  
And Rob us of that heaven-born Liberty,  
To which we have a Right, as clear as thee  
My Sons thou wouldst unreasonably confine  
To worship God, within no Walls but thine,  
As if the Prayers, from other Temples sent,  
Of sighing Souls, who faithfully Repent,  
Were Scorned, and by repulsion backward driven,  
Vanished in Air, and reached no Ear of Heaven.  
Where is its Goodness? What avails its Grace,  
If our sincere Repentance wants access,  
Through heavens respect to either Time, or Place?  
Those measures but our own Projections be,  
Unminded of the Great Eternity,  
Whose Love Divine moves round the Sinful Ball,  
To Bless each wretch, who on his Mercies call,  
Without regard to Place, no matter where,  
If the Heart's Contrite, and the Mind Sincere.  
Our Humble Guide the great Example yields,  
Who Prayed and Preached in Gardens, Mounts, and Fields.  
Temples but Sacred from their use became,  
Our Piety makes any House the same:  
Where e'er we in th' Almighty's Name repair,  
Omnipotence hath promised to be there.  
Besides—  
Our Prayers (by which all-pity'ng Heaven we move,  
To grant us His estimable Love,  
When with true Zeal our Pious Souls are warmed)  
Makes the Place Holy, wheresoever performed.  Dragon. 

Thou knowst I'm founded on a fateless Rock,  
Freed from the danger of an envious shock,  
Scripture's my Bass, Immovable I stand,  
Guarded by Lawful Power, on every hand.  
Established by a National Consent,  
Preach Faith, and Charity, do Ills prevent;  
And for the Truths I Teach am made Predominant.  
Steadfast and Pure, from Innovations free,  
Preserved entire from Mutability;  
Safe from your Pride, and Envy, Armed with Law,  
To humble stiff, Precisians, who withdraw  
From my Communion, Conscious to agree  
With Heads uncovered, or a bended Knee,  
And think a Bow a rank Idolatry.  
Religion, like a Prince, tho' ne'er so Pure,  
By Power to Punish, must be made secure,  
Or else your Saints, to Reformation given,  
Would quickly cut Ten Thousand Paths to Heaven.  
Can I from Factious Insolence be free,  
And live unstained, without an Enemy,  
(But that, till thou art crushed, can never be)  
Then Church, and State might happily Unite,  
To Mankind's Safety, and to Heaven's Delight;  
But you, by Pride, are swelled to such a Rage,  
(Fed by Vice of a Corrupted Age)  
That now you strike, with Envy, at my Power,  
And aim'st above my Sacred Head to tower:  
But all in vain—  
For that Blessed Edifice can never drop,  
Which, when assailed, good Heaven is still the prop.   

You urge a Barn, or Stable, where you Meet,  
A Field, a Coffeehouse, Dancing-School, or Street,  
Are fit for Heavenly Worship, and for Prayer  
Sacred, as unpoluted Temples are  
Rare Arrogance indeed, so vilely prone,  
To justify Irreverence to a Godhead done.  
A Room where Men their common Lusts pursue,  
Drink Swear, Lie, Cheat, all Worldly-business do,  
In Christian Reason, is a hopeful Place  
To beg God's Presence, or exprect His Grace;  
Whilst His own House, for Holy use ordained,  
To Him Erected, by our Sins unstained,  
Shall be Despised, and Unregarded stand,  
A useless Fabric, in an Impious Land:  
Yet dost thou grumble in oppressive Tones,  
And rail at me for Persecutions.   

If you, through studied Prejudice, retire  
From what the Laws of God, and Man require,  
A Legal Force may justly then be used;  
Such Factious Serpents may in time be bruised:  
My power's from God, and in his Word declare,  
To those who to my Laws bear no regard,  
heavens Punishments are just, as to the Good Reward   

The Scriptures whatsoe'er I Teach contain,  
What's Easie I Recite, and what's Hard Explain:  
Virtue commend to Practice, Sin reprove,  
Excite to Faith, Hope, Charity, and Love:  
Obedience, Loyalty, Repentance, Prayer,  
The use of what we Spend, or what we Spare.  
Truth I advance, and what is False suppress,  
You can no more than these I do no less.  
Then tell me what strange Fever in the Head,  
At first those Superstitious Frenzies bred?  
From whence you raise the causeless Discontent,  
Which makes you from my Temples thus Dissent?   Grasshopper. 
Superfluous Rites there are, which you maintain,  
And hold as Decencies, which I think Vain.  
Look back upon your boasted Pedigree,  
One part derived of Rome's Idolatry,  
From whose fantastic Customs you have drawn,  
Square Caps, low Bows, your Surpliss, and your Lawn.  
Proud Lazy Prelates; with Pluralities,  
Who speak but by their hare-brained Deputies,  
Whose Junior Years no Truths obscure can reach;  
And seldom are so Wise,, as those they Teach.  
Your Mass-like Service, with your noisy Toots,  
Of hum drum Organs, Fiddle Faddles and Flutes,  
Your high flown Doctrines to advance a State  
And please it, till Unlawfully made Great,  
Then turn your Holy Flat'ries to its Fate.  
These I dislike, from these (in chief) Dissent,  
As quite repugnant to the Lord's intent.  
These are the sumptuous Trappings of the Whore,  
The Marks and Patches which she always wore.  
These are her studied, and prevailing Charms,  
Which but the loser part of Fancy warms,  
And draws unwary Youth to her Adulterous Arms.  Dragon. 

External Order first informs our Sense,  
And raises in us a due Reverence,  
Either towards Place, or Person, where we see  
Concurrent parts, in Noble Form, agree,  
And tend to a peculiar Harmony.  
Or why did the Creator shape the World  
From a dark Mass, together rudely hurled?  
But that in ev'y part, Mankind should see,  
The strokes of an All-powerful Deity.  
From whence the light of Faith does first arise,  
And makes our Reason subject to our Eyes,  
For every wondrous work of Heaven we see,  
Gives fresh Assurance of Eternity;  
And by its Graceful Order strikes an Awe,  
Humbles our Souls, and does Obedience draw,  
By Natural means, to Heaven, and Nature's Law:  
Therefore, such decent Rites do I dispense,  
As best shall Humble, and Affect the Sense;  
And in my Sons beget a Graceful Reverence.  
How Insolent it looks? How Evil bred,  
T' approach God's Presence with a covered Head;  
Yet to a Great-man Couch, with Hat in Hand,  
And bare, before the Wealthy Idol, stand.  
Or at Devotion so neglectful be,  
As quite abandon all Humility;  
And rather than to bended Knees submit,  
In disrespectful Postures, Lolling sit.   

Next, with Church Government you disagree,  
And causelessly condemn our Hierarchy:  
Rail at my Bishops, angry at their State,  
And Envy them; whose Merit made them Great;  
The Learned and Pious Characters they wear,  
Hath raised them to the Dignities they bear.  
Unstained their Lives, they are as Guardians chose,  
To save the Church from Error, and from Foes:  
Without whose Conduct, and Authority,  
Religions Pristine state can never be  
Kept from Erroneous Innovations free,  
But stand exposed to every abuse.  
That each Fanatic whimsy shall produce.  
Then sure such Men, who by a painful Life,  
(Through Grace) to Knowledge more sublimed arrive;  
And with the piercing Eyes of Reason, see  
Through all the Mysteries of Divinity,  
Justly deserve a Spiritual advance,  
Above an unlearned or a half-learned Dunce;  
Whose rolling Eyes, feigned Looks, and yawning Jaws,  
Can nothing utter, but with Hums, and Haughs;  
Inspired with Ignorance, than roars aloud  
Audacious Nonsense, to a Brainless Crowd  
'Tis these, who from their Cradle are misled,  
And backward taught, to Factious Pulpits bred,  
Who, with impetious vi'lence, headlong run,  
Pursuing Ills, their Rebel Sires begun.  
Thus in their Frahers' Faults they persevere,  
And, by Instinct of Nature, envious Dunces are;  
These, through their barren Ignorance, exclaim  
Against all Order, and the Church defame.  
Pelting with Factious, and Calumnious Lies,  
That Sacred Power to which they cannot rise:  
Spurning at all Ecclesiastic Pomp,  
True Zealous Sons of the detested Rump,  
Waiting the lucky Minute to be turned up Trump.   Grasshopper. 
These bad Aspersions from afar you fetch,  
Serve, but as Bullets, to enlarge the Breach.  
Why so Disturbed, so Scornful, and so High?  
You re but a Wether cock as well as I.  
Boast of fixed Fundamenrals, yet I find.  
For Interest, you can Turn with every Wind.  
Where's Right Divine, your Passive, and your Non,  
The Bubble's once blown up, now, poh, they're gone,  
Where is your Loyalty, so subtly shown,  
Sometimes to th' Prince and sometimes to the Throne,  
Sometimes to both, sometimes to ne'er a one,  
Thus is it Logically placed behind  
So many School boys Quirks, 'tis hard to find,  
When the great Change (by heavens permition tried)  
Your Church's Doctrine, and her Clergies Pride.  
Some Conscientious Fools, 'tis true, turned out,  
But all the Wiser Shepherds faced about;  
And, like good Men, could blacken and upbraid  
That sinking Power, for which before they Prayed.  Dragon. 

Scandal (as you are wont) I know you choose,  
As the best Weapon, of Offence to use,  
Whether, on search, it True, or False be found,  
No matter which, if you can make it wound.  
But know my Armour's tempered against Fate;  
And much to hard, for you to penetrate:  
The Iron Walls, my treasured Truths defend,  
Reverb'rate all the poisonous Balls you send.  
You charge me with the want of Loyalty,  
That am the chief support of Monarchy:  
By my High Priest the Holy oil's applied  
By me Kings Reign, are Crowned, and Sanctified;  
I am on Earth their Safety a●● to Heaven their Guide.  
By me the Factious Falsehoods are suppressed,  
Scattered by restless Rebels, to molest.  
The happy quiet of a Peaceful Reign,  
Which Traitors Envy, and blind Fools Disdain.  
Duty to Kings I to the Public teach,  
To Loyalty Excite, Persuade, Beseech,  
That all things to the Throne be easy made,  
And him thereon be Rev'renced, and Obeyed.  
What are all these, but Marks of Loyalty,  
Religious Graces, manifest in me,  
Virtues, I find, too bright for thy dull Eyes to see.  
But pray your Reasons to the World impart,  
Why now you from your old Opinion start.  
In happy days, when Charles the Sceptre swayed,  
When base Designs, by you know who, were laid,  
Then all your Awkard, Canting Brood professed  
'Twas Damnable, the Bread of Life to Taste,  
Within my Sacred Temple-Walls, but now,  
What then you held so Dangerous, you Allow.  
If Once 'twas an Offence so great, we know  
(As you maintained, full Twenty Years ago)  
'Tis now the same, and Ever will be so.  
Why do the Grandees of your Leering Tribe,  
(Who from rank Dugs their prejudice imbibe)  
So curb their Malice, as conform of late,  
And with my Flocks they Envy, Congregate.  
Oft on a Sabbath's Morning have I seen  
Rich Awful Zealots of a bulkey Mein,  
Cheat Heaven, and dissemble with the State,  
To be by Flattery, and Deceit made Great;  
Visit my Temples, seem devout as Saints;  
And for their Interest, turn base Sycophants;  
Thus with my Worship, through design, agree,  
And only Mimic, what they hate to be,  
To climb unfairly to Authority.  
Then, by their own Corrupted Whimsies led,  
Where the Frape meet, and common Ills are bred;  
There hear the Church, from whence they came Lampooned.  
And true Religion, by an Ape Buffooned;  
Who o'er his Cushion, full of Yawn, and Hum,  
Stands Gaping like the Bear that beats the Drum.  
Thus is the Afternoon at Meeting spent,  
The Morning in the Church, at Sacrament:  
Rare pious Christians, full of Faith and Grace,  
To thus with Heaven, dissemble for a Place;  
And pawn their Souls to purchase Sword or Mace.   

If I am Right, and from Mistakes most free,  
Why do they not Conform entire to me;  
If your dark System, they believe most true,  
Why not alone Communicate with you?  
Those who for Interest, carry fair with both,  
Are just to neither, by their Faith and Troth:  
But plunged between two Crimes, to Greatness bend,  
Err with the Wrong, and from the Right Dissent.   Grasshopper. 
If you make Laws to eclipse my purer light.  
And rob my Sons, of what's their native Right,  
The fault's not theirs, 'tis you incur the blame,  
The Cunning's on their side, on yours the shame.  
Why not by Birth, and Christian Knowledge free  
To Riches, Honour, and Authority?  
Why must these Worldly Comforts rest in you;  
Or your Sons count all Power and Place their due?  
Why may not mine as well assist the State,  
And in as great Attempts prove fortunate?  
If you such Laws procure such Power possess,  
As prove a hindrance to our happiness,  
How can you justly blame us to evade,  
And leap o'er all the Stumbling-blocks 've laid?  
If you such bats to our Preferments make,  
As Oaths, and Sacraments, for your own Interest sake,  
It is no crime in us, the same to break or take.  
If you, attempt, through Pride, to keep us low,  
And we through Cunning, your designs overthrow  
Call it not Cozening Heaven, but out-witting you.  Dragon. 

No Laws can such lose Principles restrain,  
No force can bind you, but a Golden Chain.  
Interest I find is the prevailing tye,  
Makes you Approve, Conform, Dissent, Deny,  
Oppose the Right, or the Wrong Justify.  
Interest, from me first made you Separate,  
And become Rival to the Church and State  
Interest disposed you to Intestine Jars,  
Improved to Bloody, and Domestic Wars;  
Wherein being flattered with unjust success,  
Trampled on Merit, spit in Virtue's Face;  
Riffled the Throne, and stained the Judgement seat.  
With Crimes too black, and dreadful to repeat;  
As if to you, Omnipotence had given,  
A Sanguine not a Milky way to Heaven.   

Still are your Thoughts by a wild Ambition tossed,  
Aiming to gain that Power, you justly lost:  
At all Elections, busy are your Brood,  
Heaving and shoving 'gainst the Public Good.  
On all Promotions, Zealously intent,  
Squeeze, Bawl, and Jostle, till their Breathes are spent;  
Kick, Cuff, and Scandal (heedless of the Laws)  
Tongues, Feet, and Arms, all working for the Cause;  
To raise some Meager Darlings of their own,  
Faction in whose penurious looks is shown:  
Rich by mere Chance, or Fraud, not Great by merit grown.  
Who can Lie, Cant, Dissemble, or Forswear,  
Declaim against, or hear the Common-Prayer;  
Through all Opinions halt, to Lamely reach the Chair.  
Who can his Conscience, to his Interest mould,  
Run with the Court, or with the City hold.  
And without shame, can true Reflections Face,  
Or bear all Scandal, with a comely Grace.  
And will his Power beyond just bounds extend,  
To injure Foes, or to advance a Friend;  
Or any thing will do to serve a Factious End.  
These are the worthy Dolts, your Sons advance,  
By their false Poles, and double Diligence.  
These are the Men of merit, they provide,  
To Row, and Toe, against the Wind and Tide;  
Who in Tempestuous Discords, they create,  
Sail quite repugnant to the Church and State:  
Yet to such outward Godliness seem bend,  
To Church they'll come, tho' in their Heart's Dissent  
But for no Faith, will either Hang or Starve,  
Both God and Mammon, for advancement serve;  
Thus seasonably comply, or in fit times can swerve.   

If such unsteady Rovers bear Command,  
Whilst Men of worth, shall unregarded stand,  
By Law, and Nature Qualified for Trust,  
To something fixed, and known in all things Just.  
If Men like these, shall be by Fraud put by,  
And yield their Rights to the Pedantic Fry;  
England must soon from all her Greatness fall,  
And mourn her Ancient Glories Funeral.  
Which Heaven prevent—  
And (that she may once more her Grandeur boast)  
Retrieve her Virtues, now so nearly lost;  
And from all Factious Quarrels, and Despites,  
Preserve the King, Church, Nation, and our Rights:  
That in one Faith, we may United be,  
And accord sweetly, in just Harmony.   
FINIS.