THE HIND AND THE PANTHER TRANSVERSED To the Story of The Country-Mouse and the City-Mouse. Much Malice mingled with a little Wit. Hind. Pan. Nec vult Panthera domari. Quae Genus. LONDON: Printed for W. Davis, MDCLXXXVII. PREFACE. THE Favourers of the Hind and Panther will be apt to say in its Defence, That the best things are capable of being turned to Ridicule; that Homer has been Burlesqueed, and Virgil Travested without suffering any thing in their Reputation from that Buffonery; and that in like manner, the Hind and the Panther may be an exact Poem, though 'tis the Subject of our Raillery: But there is this difference, that those Authors are wrested from their true Sense, and this naturally falls into Ridicule; there is nothing Represented here as monstrous and unnatural, which is not equally so in the Original. First as to the General Design, Is it not as easy to imagine two Mice bilking Coachmen, and supping at the Devil; as to suppose a Hind entertaining the Panther at a Hermit's Cell, discussing the greatest Mysteries of Religion, and telling you her son Rodriguez writ very good Spanish? What can be more improbable and contradictory to the Rules and Examples of all Fables, and to the very design and use of them? They were first begun and raised to the highest Perfection in the Eastern Countries; where they wrote in Signs and spoke in Parables, and delivered the most useful Precepts in delightful stories; which for their Aptness were entertaining to the most judicious, and led the vulgar into understanding by surprising them with their Novelty, and fixing their Attention. All their Fables carry a double meaning; the Story is one and entire; the Characters the same throughout, not broken or changed, and always conformable to the Nature of the Creatures they introduce. They never tell you that the Dog which snapped at a shadow, lost his Troop of Horse, that would be unintelligible; a piece of Flesh is proper for him to drop, and the Reader will apply it to mankind; they would not say that the Daw who was so proud of her borrowed Plumes looked very ridiculous when Rodriguez came and took away all the book but the 17th, 24th, and 25th Chapters, which she stole from him: But this is his new way of telling a story, and confounding the Moral and the Fable together. Before the Word was written, said the Hind, Our Saviour Preached the Faith to all Mankind. What relation has the Hind to our Saviour? or what notion have we of a Panther's Bible? If you say he means the Church, how does the Church feed on Lawns, or range in the Forest? Let it be always a Church, or always the clovenfooted Beast, for we cannot bear his shifting the scene every Line. If it is absurd in Comedies to make a Peasant talk in the strain of a Hero, or a Country Wench use the language of the Court; how monstrous is it to make a Priest of a Hind, and a Parson of a Panther? To hring 'em in disputing with all the Formalities and Terms of the School? Though as to the Arguments themselves, those, we confess, are suited to the Capacity of the Beasts, and if we would suppose a Hind expressing herself about these Matters, she would talk at that Rate. As to the Absurdity of his expressions, there is nothing wrested to make 'em ridiculous, the terms are sometimes altered to make the Blunder more visible; Knowledge misunderstood is not at all better sense than Undetstanding misunderstood, though 'tis confessed the Author can play with words so well, that this and twenty such will pass off at a slight reading. There are other mistakes which could not be brought in▪ for they were too gross for Bays himself to commit. 'Tis hard to conceive how any man could censure the Turks for Gluttony, a People that debauch in Coffee, are voluptuous in a mess of Rice, and keep the strictest Lent, without the Pleasures of a Carnival to encourage them. But 'tis almost impossible to think that any man who had not renounced his Senses, should read Duncomb for Allen: He had been told that Mr. Allen had written a Discourse of Humility; Difference betwixt a Protestant and Socinian, p. 62. to which he wisely answers, That that magnified Piece of Duncombs was Translated from the Spanish of Rodriguez, and to set it beyond dispute, Page 92. makes the infallible Guide affirm the same thing. There are few mistakes, but one may imagine how a Man fell into them, and at lest what he aimed at; but what likeness is there between Duncomb and Allen? do they so much as Rhyme? We may have this comfort under the severity of his satire, to see his Abilities equally lessened with his Opinion of us; and that he could not be a fit Champion against the Panther till he had laid aside all his judgement. But we must applaud his Obedience to his new Mother Hind; Page 90. she Disciplined him severely, she commanded him it seems, to Sacrifice his darling Fame, and to do it effectually he published this learned Piece. This is the favourable Construction we would put on his faults, though he takes care to inform us, Pref. that it was done from no Imposition, but out of a natural Propensity he has to Malice, and a particular Inclination of doing Mischief. What else could provoke him to Libel the Court, Page 87. Blaspheme Kings, abuse the whole Scotch Nation, rail at the greatest Part of his own, and lay all the Indignities imaginable on the only established Religion? And we must now Congratulate him this Felicity, that there is no Sect or Denomination of Christians, whom he has not abused. Thus far his Arms have with Success been crowned. Let Turks, Jews and Infidels, look to themselves, he has already begun the War upon them. When once a Conqueror grows thus dreadful, 'tis the Interest of all his Neighbours to oppose him, for there is no Alliance to be made with one that will face about, and destroy his Friends, and like a second Almanzor, change sides merely to keep his hand in ure. This Heroic temper of his, has created him some Enemies, that did by no means affect Hostility; and he may observe this Candour in the Management, that none of his Works are concerned in these Papers, but his last Piece; and I believe he is sensible this is a favour. I was not ambitious of Laughing at any Persuasion, or making Religion the Subject of such a Trifle; so that no man is here concerned, but the Author himself, and nothing ridiculed but his way of arguing. But, Gentlemen, if you won't take it so, you must grant my Excuse is more reasonable than our Author's to the Dissenters. THE HIND AND THE PANTHER, Transversed to the Story of the Country and the City-Mouse. Bays. johnson. Smith. johnson. HAH! my old friend Mr. Bayes, what lucky chance has thrown me upon you? Dear Rogue let me embrace thee. Bays. Hold, at your peril, Sir, stand off and come not within my Sword's point, for if you are not come over to the Royal party, Pref. p. 1. I expect neither fair war, nor fair quarter from you. john's. How, draw upon your friend? and assault your old Acquaintance? O' my conscience my intentions were Honourable. Bays. Conscience! Ay, ay, I know the deceit of that word well enough, Pref. ib. let me have the marks of your Conscience before I trust it, for if it be not of the same stamp with mine, Gad I may be knocked down for all your fair promises. Smith. Nay, prithee Bays, what damned Villainy hast thou been about that thou'rt under these apprehensions? upon my Honour I'm thy friend; yet thou lookest as sneaking and frighted as a dog that has been worrying sheep. Bays. Pref. ib. Ay Sir, The Nation is in too high a ferment for me to expect any mercy, or egad, to trust any body. Smith. But why this to us, my old friend, who you know never trouble our heads with National concerns till the third bottle has taught us as much of Politics, as the next does of Religion? Bays. Ah Gentlemen, leave this profaneness, I am altered since you saw me, and cannot bear this loose talk now; Mr. johnson, you are a man of Parts, let me desire you to read the Guide of Controversy; and Mr. Smith, I would recommend to you the Considerations on the Council of Trent, Page 5. and so Gentlemen your humble Servant.— Good life be now my Task. john's. Nay Faith, we want part so: believe us we are both your Friends; let us step to the Rose for one quarter of an hour, and talk over old Stories. Bays. I ever took you to be men of Honour, and for your sakes I will transgress as far as one Pint. john's. Well, Mr. Bayes, many a merry bout have we had in this House, and shall have again, I hope: Come, what Wine are you for? Bays. Gentlemen, do you as you please, for my part he shall bring me a single Pint of any thing. Smith. How so, Mr. Bayes, have you lost your palate? you have been more curious. Bays. True, I have so, but senses must be starved that the soul may be gratified. Page 21. Men of your Kidney make the senses the supreme judge, and therefore bribe 'em high, but we have laid both the use and pleasure of 'em aside. Smith. What, is not there good eating and drinking on both sides? you make the separation greater than I thought it. Bays. No, no, whenever you see a fat Rosy-coloured fellow, Ibid. take it from me, he is either a Protestant or a Turk. john's. At that rate, Mr. Bayes, one might suspect your conversion; methinks thou hast as much the face of an Heretic as ever I saw. Bays. Such was I, Page 5. such by nature still I am. But I hope ere long I shall have drawn this pampered Paunch fitter for the strait gate. Smith. Sure, Sir, you are in ill hands, your Confessor gives you more severe rules than he practices; for not long ago a Fat Friar was thought a true Character. Bays. Things were misrepresented to me: I confess I have been unfortunate in some of my Writings: but since you have put me upon that subject, I'll show you a thing I have in my Pocket shall wipe off all that, or I am mistaken. Smith. Come, now thou art like thyself again. Here's the King's Health to thee— Communicate. Bays. Well, Gentlemen, here it is, and I'll be bold to say, the exactest Piece the world ever saw, a Non Pareillo I'faith. But I must bespeak your pardons if it reflects any thing upon your persuasion. joh. Use your Liberty, Sir, you know we are no Bigots. Bays. Why then you shall see me lay the Reformation on its back, egad, and justify our Religion by way of Fable. john's. An apt contrivance indeed! what do you make a Fable of your Religion? Bays. Ay egad, and without Morals too; for I tread in no man's steps; and to show you how far I can outdo any thing that ever was writ in this kind, I have taken Horace's design, but egad, have so outdone him, you shall be ashamed for your old friend. You remember in him the Story of the Country-Mouse, and the City-Mouse; what a plain simple thing it is, it has no more life and spirit in it, egad, than a Hobby-horse; and his Mice talk so meanly, such common stuff, so like mere Mice, that I wonder it has pleased the world so long. But now will I undeceive Mankind, and teach 'em to heighten, and elevate a Fable. I'll bring you in the very same Mice disputing the depth of Philosophy, searching into the fundamentals of Religion, quoting Texts, Fathers, Councils, and all that, egad, as you shall see either of 'em could easily make an Ass of a Country Vicar. Now whereas Horace keeps to the dry naked story, I have more copiousness than to do that, egad. Here, I draw you general Characters, and describe all the beasts of the Creation; there, I launch out into long Digressions, and leave my Mice for twenty Pages together; then I fall into Raptures, and make the finest Soliloquies, as would ravish you. Won't this do, think you? john's. Faith, Sir, I don't well conceive you; all this about two Mice? Bays. Ay, why not? is it not great and Heroical? but come, you'll understand it better when you hear it; and pray be as severe as you can, egad I defy all Critics. Thus it begins. Pag. 1. A milk-white Mouse immortal and unchanged, Fed on soft Cheese, and o'er the Dairy ranged; Without, unspotted; innocent within, She feared no danger, for she knew no Ginn. john's. Methinks Mr. Bayes, soft Cheese is a little too corpse Diet for an immortal Mouse; were there any necessity for her eating, you should have consulted Homer for some Celestial Provision. Bays. Faith, Gentlemen, I did so; but indeed I have not the Latin one, which I have marked by me, and could not readily find it in the Original. Yet had She oft been scared by bloody Claws Pag. 1. Of winged Owls, and stern Grimalkins Paws Aimed at her destined Head, which made her fly, Pag 2. Tho She was doomed to Death, and sated not to die. Smith. How came She that feared no danger in the line before, to be scared in this, Mr. Bayes? Bays. Why then you may have it chased if you will; for I hope a Man may run away without being afraid; mayn't he? john's. But pray give me leave; how was She doomed to Death, if She was fated not to die; are not doom and fate, much the same thing? Bays. Nay Gentlemen, if you question my skill in the Language, I'm your humble Servant▪ the Rogues the Critics, that will allow me nothing else, give me that; sure I that made the Word, know best what I meant by it: I assure you, doomed and fated, are quite different things. Smith. Faith, Mr. Bayes, if you were doomed to be hanged, whatever you were fated to, 'twould give you but small comfort. Bays. Never trouble your head with that, Mr. Smith, mind the business in hand. Not so her young; their Linsy-woolsy line, Pag. 2. Was Hero's make, half humane, half Divine. Smith. Certainly these Hero's, half Humane, half Divine, have very little of the Mouse their Mother. Bays. Gadsokers! Mr. johnson, does your Friend think I mean nothing but a Mouse, by all this? I tell thee, Man, I mean a Church, and these young Gentlemen her Sons, signify Priests, Martyrs and Confessors, that were hanged in Oats' Plot. There's an excellent Latin Sentence, which I had a mind to bring in, Sanguis Martyrum semen Ecclesiae, and I think I have not wronged it in the Translation. Of these a slaughtered Army lay in Blood, Pag. 2. Whose sanguine Seed increased the sacred Brood; She multiplied by these, now ranged alone, Pag. 3. And wandered in the Kingdoms once her own. Smith. Was She alone when the sacred Brood was increased. Bays. Why thy Head's running on the Mouse again; but I hope a Church may be alone, though the Members be increased, mayn't it? john's. Certainly Mr. Bayes, a Church which is a difusive Body of Men, can much less be said to be alone. Bays. But are you really of that Opinion? Take it from me, Mr. johnson, you are wrong; however to oblige you, I'll clap in some Simile or other, about the Children of Israel, and it shall do. Smith. Will you pardon me one word more, Mr. Bayes? What could the Mouse (for I suppose you mean her now) do more than range in the Kingdoms, when they were her own? Bays. Do? why She reigned; had a Diadem, Sceptre and Ball, till they deposed her. Smith. Now her Sons are so increased, She may try t'other pull for't. Bays. I gad, and so She may before I have done with Her; it has cost me some pains to clear Her Title. Well, but Mum for that, Mr. Smith. The common Hunt, She timorously passed by, For they made tame, Pag. 3. disdained Her company; They grinned, She in a fright tripped o'er the Green, For She was loved, wherever She was seen. john's. Well said little Bays, I'faith the Critic must have a great deal of leisure, that attacks those Verses. Bays. I gad, I'll warrant him, who ere he is, offendet solido; but I go on. The Independent Beast. Pag. 3. Smith. Who is that Mr. Bayes? Bays. Why a Bear: Pox, is not that obvious enough? In groans Her hate expressed. Which I gad, is very natural to that Animal. Well! there's for the Independent: Now the Quaker; what do you think I call him? Smith. Why, A Bull, for aught I know. Bays. A Bull! O Lord! A Bull! no, no, a Hare, a quaking Hare.— Armarillis, because She wears Armour, 'tis the same Figure; and I am proud to say it, Mr. johnson, no man knows how to pun in Heroics but myself. Well, you shall hear. She thought, and reason good, the quaking Hare Her cruel Foe, because She would not swear, Pag. 3. And had professed neutrality. john's. A shrewd Reason that, Mr. Bays; but what Wars were there? Bays. Wars! why there had been bloody Wars, though they were pretty well reconciled now. Yet to bring in two or three such fine things as these, I don't tell you the Lion's Peace was proclaimed till fifty pages after, though 'twas really done before I had finished my Poem. Pag. 3. Next Her, the Buffoon Ape his body bend, And paid at Church a Courtier's compliment. That gaul's somewhere; I gad I can't leave it off, though I were cudgeled every day for it. Pag. 4. The-brisled Baptist Boar, impure as he. Smith. As who? Bays. As the Courtier, let 'em e'en take it as they will, I gad, I seldom come amongst amongst. Pag. 10. Was whitened with the foam of Sanctity. The Wolf with Belly-gaunt his rough crest rears, And pricks up.— Now in one word will I abuse the whole Party most damnably— and pricks up.— I gad, I am sure you'll Laugh— his predestinating Ears. Prithee Mr. johnson, remember little Bays, when next you see a Presbyterian, and take notice if he has not Predestination in the shape of his Ear: I have studied men so long. I'll undertake to know an Arminian, by the setting of his Wig. His predestinating Ears. I gad there's ne'er a Presbyterian shall dare to show his Head without a Border: I'll put 'em to that expense. Smith. Pray Mr. Bays, if any of 'em should come over to the Royal Party, would their Ears alter? Bays. Would they? Ay, I gad, they would shed their Fanatical Lugs, and have just such well-turned Ears as I have; mind this Ear, this is a true Roman Ear, mine are much changed for the better within this two years. Smith. Then if ever the Party should chance to fail, you might lose 'em, for what may change, may fall. Bays. Mind, mind— These fiery Zuinglius, Pag. 11. meager Calvin bred. Smith. Those I suppose are some Outlandish Beasts, Mr. Bayes. Bays. Beasts; a good Mistake! Why they were the chief Reformers, but here I put 'em in so bad Company because they were Enemies to my Mouse, and anon when I am warmed, Pag. 39 egad you shall hear me call 'em Doctors, Captains, Horses and Horsemen in the very same Breath. You shall hear how I go on now, Or else reforming Corah spawned this Class, Pag. 11. When opening Earth made way for all to pass. john. For all, Mr. Bayes? Bays. Yes, They were all lost there, but some of 'em were thrown up again at the Leman-Lake: as a Catholic Queen sunk at Charing-Cross, and rose again at Queenhith. The Fox and he came shuffled in the dark, Pag. 11. If ever they were stowed in Noah's Ark. Here I put a Quaere, Whether there were any Socinians before the Flood, which I'm not very well satisfied in? I have been lately apt to believe that the World was drowned for that Heresy; which among Friends made me leave it. Quickened with Fire below, Pag. 12. these Monsters breed In Fenny Holland, and in Fruitful Tweed. Now to write something new and out of the way, to elevate and surprise, and all that, I fetch, you see this Quickening Fire from the Bottom of Boggs and Rivers. john. Why, Faith, that's as ingenious a Contrivance as the Virtuoso's making a Burning-Glass of Ice. Bays. Why was there ever any such thing? Let me perish if ever I heard of it. The Fancy was sheer new to me; and I thought no Man had reconciled those Elements but myself. Well Gentlemen! Thus far I have followed Antiquity, and as Homer has numbered his Ships, so I have ranged my Beasts. Here is my Boar and my Bear, and my Fox, and my Wolf, and the rest of 'em all against my poor Mouse. Now what do you think I do with all these? Smith. Faith I don't know, I suppose you make 'em fight. Bays. Fight! egad I'd as soon make 'em Dance. No, I do no earthly thing with 'em, nothing at all, I'gad: I think they have played their Parts sufficiently already; I have walked 'em out, showed 'em to the Company, and raised your Expectation. And now whilst you hope to see 'em bated, and are dreaming of Blood and battles, they sculk off, and you hear no more of 'em. Smith. Why, Faith, Mr. Bayes, now you have been at such expense in setting forth their Characters, it had been too much to have gone through with 'em. Bays. egad so it had: And then I'll tell you another thing, 'tis not every one that reads a Poem through. And therefore I fill the first part with Flowers, Figures, fine Language, and all that; and then egad sink by degrees, till at last I write but little better than other People. And whereas most Authors creep servilely after the Old Fellows, and strive to grow upon their Readers; I take another Course, I bring in all my Characters together, and let 'em see I could go on with 'em; but egad, I won't. john. Could go on with 'em Mr. Bayes! there's no Body doubts that; You have a most particular Genius that way. Bays. Oh! Dear Sir, You are mighty obliging: But I must needs say at a Fable or an Emblem I think no Man comes near me, indeed I have studied it more than any Man. Did you ever take notice, Mr. johnson, of a little thing that has taken mightily about Town, a Cat with a Top-knot? john. Faith, Sir, 'tis mighty pretty, I saw it at the Coffeehouse. Bays. 'Tis a Trifle hardly worth owning; I was t'other Day at Will's throwing out something of that Nature; and egad, the hint was taken, and out came that Picture; indeed the poor Fellow was so civil to present me with a dozen of 'em for my Friends, I think I have one here in my Pocket; would you please to accept it Mr johnson? john. Really 'tis very ingenious. Bays. Oh Lord! Nothing at all, I could design twenty of 'em in an Hour, if I had but witty Fellows about me to draw 'em. I was proffered a Pension to go into Holland, and contrive their Emblems. But hang 'em they are dull Rogues, and would spoil my Invention. But come, gentlemans, let us return to our Business, and here I'll give you a delicate description of a Man. Smith. But how does that come in? Bays. Come in? very naturally. I was talking of a Wolf and that supposes a Wood, and then I clap an Epithet to't, and call it a Celtic Wood: Now when I was there, I could not help thinking of the French Persecution, and egad from all these Thoughts I took occasion to rail at the French King, and show that he was not of the same make with other Men, which thus I prove. Pag. 15. The Divine Blacksmith in th' Abyss of Light, Yawning and lolling with a careless beat, Struck out the mute Creation at a Heat. But he worked hard to Hammer out our Souls, He blew the Bellows, and stirred up the Coals; Long time he thought and could not on a sudden Pag. 16. Knead up with unskimed Milk this reasoning Pudding: Tender, and mild within its Bag it lay Confessing still the softness of its Clay, And kind as Milkmaids on their Wedding-Day. Till Pride of Empire, Lust, and hot Desire Did over-boile him, like too great a Fire, And understanding grown, misunderstood, Burned Him to th' Pot, and soured his curdled Blood. john. But sure this is a little profane, Mr. Bayes. Bays. Not at all: does not Virgil bring in his God Vulcan working at the Anvil? john. Ay Sir, but never thought his Hands the fittest to make a Pudding. Bays. Why do you imagine Him an Earthly dirty Blacksmith? 'Gad you make it profane indeed. I'll tell you there's as much difference betwixt 'em, egad as betwixt my Man and Milton's. But now, Gentlemen, the Plot thickens, here comes my t'other Mouse, the City Mouse. Pag. 19 A spotted Mouse, the prettiest next the White, Ah! were her Spots washed out, as pretty quite, Pag. 23. With Phylacteries on her Forehead spread, Pag. 22. Crozier in Hand, and Mitre on her Head. Three Steeples Argent on her Sable Shield. Pag. 84. Lived in the City, and disdained the Field. john. This is a glorious Mouse indeed! but, as you have dressed her, we don't know whether she be jew, Papist or Protestant. Bays. Let me embrace you, Mr. johnson, for that; you take it right. She is a mere Babel of Religions, and therefore she's a spotted Mouse here, and will be a Mule presently. But to go on. This Princess— Smith. What Princess, Mr. Bayes? Bays. Why this Mouse, for I forgot to tell you, an Old Lion made a left Hand Marriage with her Mother, Pag. 20. and begot on her Body Elizabeth Schism, who was married to Timothy Sacrilege, and had Issue Graceless Heresy. Who all give the same Coat with their Mother, Three Steeples Argent, as I told you before. This Princess though estranged from what was best, Was least Deformed, because Reformed the least. Pag. 23. There's De and Re as good egad as ever was. She in a Masquerade of Mirth and Love, Pag. 22. Mistook the Bliss of Heaven for Bacchinals above, And grubbed the Thorns beneath our tender Feet, To make the Paths of Paradise more sweet. There's a Jolly Mouse for you, let me see any Body else that can show you such another. Here now have I one damnable severe reflecting Line, but I want a Rhyme to it, can you help me Mr. johnson. She— Humbly content to be despised at Home, john. Which is too narrow Infamy for some. Bays. Sir, I thank you, now I can go on with it. Pag. 63. Whose Merits are diffused from Pole to Pole, Where Winds can carry, and where Waves can roll. john. But does not this reflect upon some of your Friends, Mr. Bayes? Bays. 'Tis no matter for that, let me alone to bring myself off. I'll tell you, lately I writ a damned Libel on a whole Party, sheer Point and satire all through, egad. Called 'em Rogues, Dogs, and all the Names I could think of, but with an exceeding deal of Wit; that I must needs say. Now it happened before I could finish this Peice, the Scheme of Affairs was altered, and those People were no longer Beasts: Here was a Plunge now: Should I lose my Labour, or Libel my Friend? 'Tis not every Body's Talon to find a Salvo for this: But what do me I but write a smooth delicate Preface, wherein I tell them that the satire was not intended to them, and this did the Business. Smith. But if it was not intended to them against whom it was writ, certainly it had no meaning at all. Bays. Poh! There's the Trick on't. Poor Fools, they took it, and were satisfied: And yet it mauled 'em damnably egad. Smith. Why Faith, Mr. Bayes, there's this very Contrivance in the Preface to Dear joys jests. Bays. What a Devil do you think that I'd steal from such an Author? Or ever read it? Smith. I can't tell, but you sometimes read as bad. I have heard you quote Reynard the Fox. Bays. Why there's it now; take it from me, Mr. Smith, there is as good Morality, and as found Precepts, in the delectable History of Reynard the Fox, as in any Book I know, except Seneca. Pray tell me where in any other Author could I have found so pretty a Name for a Wolf as Isgrim? But prithee, Mr. Smith, give me no more trouble, and let me go on with my Mouse. One Evening, Pag. 29. when she went away from Court, Levees and Couchees passed without resort. There's Court Language for you; nothing gives a Verse so fine a turn as an Air of good Breeding. Smith. But methinks the Levees and Couchees of a Mouse are too great, especially when she is walking from Court to the cooler Shades. Bays. egad now have you forgot what I told you that she was a Princess. But pray mind; here the two Mice meet. She met the Country Mouse, Pag. 16. whose fearful Face Beheld from far the common watering Place, Nor durst approach— Smith. Methinks, Mr. Bayes, this Mouse is strangely altered, since she feared no Danger. Bays. Godsokers! Why no more she does not yet fear either Man or Beast: But, poor Creature, she's afraid of the Water, for she could not swim, as you see by this. Nor durst approach, Pag. 30. till with an awful Roar The Sovereign Lion had her fear no more. But besides, 'tis above thirty Pages off that I told you she feared no Danger; and egad if you will have no variation of the Character, you must have the same thing over and over again; 'tis the Beauty of Writing to strike you still with something new. Well, but to proceed. But when she had this sweetest Mouse in view, Pag. 30. Good Lord, how she admired her Heavenly Hue! Here now to show you I am Master of all Styles, I let myself down from the Majesty of Virgil, to the Sweetness of Ovid. Good Lord, how she admired her Heavenly Hue! What more easy and familiar! I writ this Line for the Ladies: The little Rogues will be so fond of me to find I can yet be so tender. I hate such a rough unhewen Fellow as Milton, that a Man must sweat to read Him; egad you may run over this and be almost asleep. Th' Immortal Mouse who saw the Viceroy come So far to see Her, did invite her Home. There's a pretty Name now for the Spotted Mouse, the Viceroy! Smith. But pray why d'ye call her so? Bays. Why! Because it sounds prettily: I'll call her the Crown-General presently if I've a mind to it. Pag. 55. Well. — did invite her Home To smoak a Pipe, and o'er a sober Pot Discourse of Oats and Bedloe, and the Plot. Pag. 31. She made a Courtesy, like a Civil Dame, And, Pag. 32. being much a Gentlewoman, came Well, Gentlemen, here's my first part finished, and I think T have kept my Word with you, and given it the Majestic turn of Heroic Poesy. The rest being matter of Dispute, I had not such frequent occasion for the magnificence of Verse, though egad they speak very well. And I have heard Men, and considerable Men too, talk the very same things, a great deal worse. john. Nay, without doubt, Mr. Bayes, they have received no small advantage from the smoothness of your numbers. Bays. Ay, ay, I can do't, if I list: though you must not think I have been so dull as to mind these things myself, but 'tis the advantage of our Coffee-house, that from their talk one may write a very good polemical discourse, without ever troubling ones head with the Books of Controversy. For I can take the slightest of their Arguments, and clap 'em pertly into four Verses, which shall stare any London Divine in the face. Indeed your knotty Reasonings with a long train of Majors and Minors, and the Devil and all, are too barbarous for my stile; but' i gad I can flourish better with one of these twinkling Arguments, than the best of 'em can fight with t'other. But we return to our Mouse, and now I've brought 'em together, let 'em' en speak for themselves, which they will do extremely well, or I'm mistaken: and pray observe, gentlemans, if in one you don't find all the delicacy of a luxurious City-Mouse, and in the other all the plain simplicity of a sober serious Matron. Dame, Pag. 32. said the Lady of the Spotted Muff, Methinks your Tiff is sour, your Cates mere stuff. There did not I tell you she'd be nice? Your Pipe's so foul, that I disdain to smoke; And the Weed worse than e'er Tom. I— s took. Smith. I did not hear she had a Spotted Muff before. Bays. Why no more she has not now: but she has a Skin that might make a Spotted Muff. There's a pretty Figure now unknown to the Ancients. Leave, leave ( † Poeta Loquitur. she's earnest you see) this hoary Shed and lonely Hills, And eat with me at Groleau's, smoke at Will's. What Wretch would nibble on a Hanging-shelf, When at Pontack's he may Regale himself? Or to the House of cleanly Rhenish go; Or that at Charing-Cross, or that in Channel-Row? Do you mark me now? I would by this represent the vanity of a Town-Fop, who pretends to be acquainted at all those good Houses, though perhaps he ne'er was in 'em. But hark! she goes on. Come, at a Crown a Head ourselves we'll treat, Champain our Liquor, and Ragousts our Meat. Then hand in hand we'll go to Court, dear Cousin, To visit Bishop Martin, and King Buz. With Evening Wheels we'll drive about the Park, Finish at Locket's, and reel home i'th' Dark. Break clattering Windows, and demolish Doors Pag. 63. Of English Manufactures— Pimps, and Whores. john. Methinks a Pimp or a Whore, is an odd sort of a Manufacture, Mr. Bayes. Bays. I call 'em so, to give the Parliament a hint not to suffer so many of 'em to be exported, to the decay of Trade at home. With these Allurements Spotted did invite From Hermit's Cell, the Female Proselyte. Oh! with what ease we follow such a Guide, Where Souls are starved, and Senses gratified. Now would not you think she's going? but I gad, you're mistaken; you shall hear a long Argument about Infallibility, before she stirs yet. Pag. 69. But here the White, by observation wise, Who long on Heaven had fixed her prying Eyes, With thoughtful Countenance, and grave Remark, Said, or my Judgement fails me, or 'tis dark. Lest therefore we should stray, and not go right, Through the brown horror of the starless Night. Hast thou Infallibility, Pag. 37. that Wight? Sternly the Savage grinned, and thus replied: That Mice may err, was never yet denied. That I deny, said the immortal Dame, There is a Guide— Gad I've forgot his Name, Pag. 37. Who lives in Heaven or Rome, the Lord knows where, Had we but him, Sweetheart, we could not err. But hark you, Spotted Mouse, Loquitur. Sister, this is but a Whim; For still we want a Guide to find out Him. Here you see I don't trouble myself to keep on the Narration, but write white Speaks or dapple Speaks by the side. But when I get any noble thought which I envy a Mouse should say, I clap it down in my own Person with a Poeta Loquitur; Pag. 69. which, take notice, is a surer sign of a sine thing in my Writings, than a Hand in the Margin anywhere else. Well now says White, What need we find Him, we have certain proof That he is somewhere, Dame, and that's enough: For if there is a Guide that knows the way, Although we know not him, we cannot stray. That's true, I Gad: Well said White. You see her Adversary has nothing to say for herself, and therefore to confirm the Victory, she shall make a Simile. Smith. Why then I find Similes are as good after Victory, as after a Surprise. Bays. Every Jot, I Gad, or rather better. Well, she can do it two ways, Pag. 37. either about Emission or Reception of Light, or else about Epsom-waters, but I think the last is most familiar; therefore speak, my pretty one. As though 'tis controverted in the School, If Waters pass by Urine or by Stool. Shall we who are Philosophers, thence gather From this dissension that they work by neither. And I Gad, she's in the right on't; but mind now, she comes upon her swop! All this I did, your Arguments to try. And I Gad, if they had been never so good, this next Line confutes 'em. Pag. 54. Hear, and be dumb, thou Wretch, that Guide am I. There's a Surprise for you now! How sneakingly t'other looks? Was not that pretty now, to make her ask for a Guide first, and then tell her she was one? Who could have thought that this little Mouse had the Pope and a whole General Council in her Belly? Now Dapple had nothing to say to this; and therefore you'll see she grows peevish. Come leave your Cracking tricks, and as they say, Pag. 101. Use not, that Barber that trims time, delay Which I gad is new, and my own. I've Eyes as well as you to find the way. Then on they jogged, and since an hour of talk Might cut a Banter on the tedious walk; As I remember said the sober Mouse, I've heard much talk of the Wit's Coffeehouse. Thither, says Brindle, thou shalt go, and see Priests sipping Coffee▪ Sparks and Poet's Tea; Here rugged Frieze, there Quality well dressed, These bafling the Grand-Seigniour; those the Test▪ And hear shrewd guesses made, and reasons given, That humane Laws were never made in Heaven. Pag. 111. But above all, what shall oblige thy sight, And fill thy Eyeballs with a vast delight; Is the Poetic judge of sacred Wit, Who does i' th' Darkness of his Glory sit. And as the Moon who first receives the light, Pag. 28. With which she makes these neither Regions bright; So does he shine, reflecting from a far, The Rays he borrowed from a better Star: For rules which from Corneille and Rapine slow, Admired by all the scribbling Herd below. From French Tradition while he does dispense, Unerring Truths, 'tis Schism, a damned offence, To question his, or trust your private sense. Ha! Is not that right, Mr. johnson? Gad forgive me he is fast a sleep! Oh the damned stupidity of this Age! a sleep! Well, Sir, Since you're so drowsy, your humble Servant. john's. Nay, Pray Mr. Bayes, Faith I heard you all the while. The white Mouse. Bays. The white Mouse! ay, ay, I thought how you heard me. Your Servant, Sir, your Servant. john. Nay, Dear Bays, Faith I beg thy Pardon, I was up late last Night, Prithee lend me a little Snuff, and go on. Bays. Go on! Pox I don't know where I was, well I'll begin. Here, mind, now they are both come to Town. But now at Peccadille they arrive, And taking Coach, towards Temple-Bar they drive; But at St. Clement's Church, eat out the Back; And slipping through the Palsgrave, bilked poor Hack. There's the Vtile which ought to be in all Poetry, Many a young Templar will save his shilling by this Stratagem of my Mice. Smith. Why, will any young Templar eat out the back of a Coach? Bays. No, I gad, but you'll grant it is mighty natural for a Mouse. Thence to the Devil, and asked if Chanticleer, Pag. 133. Of Clergy kind, or Counsellor Chough was there; Or Mr. Dove, a Pigeon of Renown, Pag. 126. By his high crop, and corny Gizzard known, Pag. 130. Or Sister Partlet, with the Hooded head; No, Sir. She's hooted hence, said Will, and fled. Why so? Because she would not pray a Bed. john. aside. ' 'Sdeath! Who can keep awake at such stuff? Pray, Mr. Bayes, lend me your Box again. Bays. Mr. johnson, How d'ye like that Box? Pray take notice of it, 'twas given me by a person of Honour for looking over a Paper of Verses; and indeed I put in all the lines that were worth any thing in the whole Poem. Well, but where were we? Oh! Here they are, just going up stairs into the Apollo; from whence my White takes occasion to talk very well of Tradition. Thus to the place where johnson sat we climb, Leaning on the same Rail that guided him; And whilst we thus on equal helps rely, Our Wit must be as true, our thoughts as high. Pag. 45. For as an Author happily compares Tradition to a well-sixt pair of Stairs, So this the Scala Sancta we believe, By which his Traditive Genius we receive. Thus every step I take my Spirits soar, And I grow more a Wit, and more, and more. There's humour! Is not that the liveliest Image in the World of a mouse's going up a pair of Stairs. More a Wit, and more and more? Smith. Mr. Bays, I beg your Pardon heartily, I must be rude, I have a particular Engagement at this time, and I see you are not near an end yet. Bays. Godsokers! Sure you won't serve me so: All my finest Descriptions and best Discourse is yet to come. Smith. Troth, Sir, if 'twere not an Extraordinary concern I could not leave you. Bays. Well; but you shall take a little more, and here I'll pass over two dainty Episodes of Swallows, Swifts, Chickens, and Buzzards. john's. I know not why they should come in, except to make yours the longest Fable that ever was told. Bays. Why, the excellence of a Fable is in the length of it. AEsop indeed, like a Slave as he was, made little, short, simple stories, with a dry Moral at the end of 'em; and could not form any noble design. But here I give you Fable upon Fable; and after you are satisfied with Beasts in the first course, serve you up a delicate Dish of Fowl for the second; now I was at all this pains to abuse one particular person; for I gad I'll tell you what a trick he served me. Varillas. I was once translating a very good French Author, but being something long about it, as you know a Man is not always in the Humour; What does this jack do, but put's out an Answer to my Friend before I had half finished the Translation: so there was three whole Months lost upon his Account. But I think I have my revenge on him sufficiently, for I let all the World know, Pag. 137. that he is a tall, broad-backed, lusty fellow, of a brown Complexion, fair Behaviour, a Fluent Tongue, and taking amongst the Women; and to top it all that he's much a Scholar, more a Wit, and owns but two Sacraments. Don't you think this Fellow will hang himself? But besides, I have so nicked his Character in a Name as will make you split. I call him— I gad I won't tell you unless you remember what I said of him. Smith. Why that he was much a Scholar, and more a Wit— Bayes. Right; and his name is Buzzard, ha! ha! ha. john's. Very proper indeed, Sir. Bays. Nay, I have a farther fetch in it yet than perhaps you imagine; for his true name begins with a B, which makes me slily contrive him this, to begin with the same Letter: There's a pretty device, Mr. johnson; I learned it, I must needs confess, from that ingenious sport, I love my Love with an A, because she's Amiable; and if you could but get a knot of merry Fellows together, you should see how little Bays would top 'em all at it, I gad. Smith. Well, but good Faith, Mr. Bayes, I must leave you, I am half an hour past my time. Bays. Well, I've done, I've done. Here are eight hundred Verses upon a rainy Night, and a Birds-Nest; and here's three hundred more, Translated from two Paris Gazettes, in which the Spotted Mouse gives an account of the Treaty of Peace between the Czars of Muscovy, and the Emperor, which is a piece of News. White does not believe, and this is her Answer. I am resolved you shall hear it, for in it I have taken occasion to prove Oral Tradition better than Scripture. Now you must know, 'tis sincerely my Opinion, that it had been better for the World, if we ne'er had any Bibles at all. ere that Gazet was printed, said the White, Our Robin told another story quite; This Oral Truth more safely I believed, My Ears cannot, your Eyes may be deceived. By word of Mouth unerring Maxims slow, And Preaching's best, if understood, or no. Words I confess bound by, Pag. 3. and trip so light, We have not time to take a steady sight; Yet sleeting thus are plainer than when Writ, To long Examination they submit. Hard things— Mr. Smith, if these two lines don't recompense your stay, ne'er trust john Bays again. Hard things at the first Blush are clear and full, God mends at second thoughts, but Man grows dull. I gad I judge of all Men by myself, 'tis so with me, I never strove to be very exact in any thing but I spoiled it. Smith. But allowing your Character to be true, is it not a little too severe? Bays. 'Tis no matter for that, these general reflections are daring, and savour most of a noble Genius, that spares neither Friend nor Foe. john. Are you never afraid of a drubbing for that daring of your noble Genius? Bays. Afraid! Why Lord you make so much of a beating, I' gad 'tis no more to me than a Flea biting. No, No, if I can but be witty upon 'em, let 'em en lay on, I Faith, I'll ne'er balk my fancy to save my Carcase. Well, but we must dispatch, Mr. Smith. Thus did they merrily carouse all day, And like the gaudy fly their Wings display; And sip the sweets, and bask in great Apollo's ray. Well there's an end of the Entertainment; and Mr. Smith, if your affairs would have permitted, you would have heard the best Bill of Fare that ever was served up in Heroics: but here follows a dispute shall recommend itself, I'll say nothing for it. For Dapple, who you must know was a Protestant, all this while trusts her own Judgement, and foolishly dislikes the Wine; upon which our Innocent does so run her down, that she has not one word to say for herself, but what I put in her Mouth; and I gad, you may imagine they won't be very good ones, for she has disobliged me, like an Ingrate. Sirrah, says Brindle, Thou hast brought us Wine, Sour to my taste, and to my Eyes unfine. Says Will, all Gentlemen like it, ah! says White, What is approved by them, must needs be right. Pag. 38. 'Tis true, I thought it bad, but if the House Commend it, I submit, a private Mouse. Mind that, mind the Decorum, and Defference, which our Mouse pays to the Company. Nor to their Catholic consent oppose My erring Judgement, and reforming Nose. Ah! ah! there she has nicked her, that's up to the Hilts, I gad, and you shall see Dapple resents it. Why, what a Devil shan't I trust my Eyes? Must I drink Stum because the Rascal lies? And palms upon us Catholic consent, To give sophisticated Brewing vent. Says White, Pag. 5. What ancient Evidence can sway, If you must Argue thus and not obey? Drawer's must be trusted, through whose hands conveyed, You take the Liquor, or you spoil the Trade. For sure those Honest Fellows have no knack Of putting off stumed Claret for Pontack. How long, alas! would the poor Vintner last, If all that drink must judge, and every Guest Be allowed to have an understanding Taste? Thus she: Nor could the Panther well enlarge, With weak defence, against so strong a Charge. There I call her a Panther, because she's spotted, which is such a blot to the Reformation, as I warrant 'em they will never claw off, I Gad. But with a weary Yawn that showed her pride, Said, Spotless was a Villain, and she lied. White saw her cankered Malice at that word, And said her Prayers, and drew her Delphic Sword. Tother cried Murder, and her Rage restrained: And thus her passive Character maintained. But now alas— Mr. johnson, pray mind me this; Mr. Smith, I'll ask you to stay no longer, for this that follows is so engaging; hear me but two Lines, I Gad, and go away afterwards if you can. But now, alas, I grieve, I grieve to tell What sad mischance these pretty things befell These Birds of Beasts— There's a tender Expression, Birds of Beasts: 'tis the greatest Affront that you can put upon any Bird, to call it, Pag. 129. Beast of a Bird: and a Beast is so fond of being called a Bird, as you can't imagine. These Birds of Beasts, these learned reasoning Mice, Were separated, banished in a trice. Who would be learned for their sakes, who wise? Ay, who indeed? There's a Patho's, I Gad, Gentlemen, if that won't move you, nothing will, I can assure you: But here's the sad thing I was afraid of. The Constable alarmed by this noise, Entered the Room, directed by the voice, Pag. 135. And speaking to the Watch, with head aside, Said, Desperate Cures must be to desperate Ills applied. These Gentlemen, for so their Fate decrees, Pag. 115. Can ne'er enjoy at once the But and Peace. Pag. 144. When each have separated Interests of their own, Two Mice are one too many for a Town. By Schism they are torn; and therefore, Brother, Look you to one, and I'll secure the tother. Now whither Dapple did to Bridewell go, Pag. 98. Or in the Stocks all night her Finger blow, Or in the Compter lay, concerns not us to know. But the immortal Matron, spotless White, Forgetting Dapple's Rudeness, Malice, Spite, Looked kindly back, and wept, and said, Good Night. Pag. 145. Ten thousand Watchmen waited on this Mouse, With Bills, and Halberds, to her Countryhouse. This last Contrivance I had from a judicious Author, that makes Ten thousand Angels wait upon his Hind, and she asleep too, I Gad.— john. Come, let's see what we have to pay. Bays. What a Pox, are you in such haste? You han't told me how you like it. john. Oh, extremely well. Here, Drawer. FINIS.