us take our doom This said they to the Monument did come Where streight he shewd him by rare Artists made A Lyons head in a Mans bosome laid This no sufficient proof the Lyon said Could we as well as you our stories cut We might and justly put Your lying heads beneath Our conquering foot From partiall Pens all truth hath been for ever shut Where I first drew my breath I heard a Carthaginian at his death The Roman Nation most perfidious call Crying out by treason they contriv'd the fall Of them and their great Captain Haniball MORALL Through a gross Medium by refracted beams Historians friends appear still in extremes The wrong end of the perspective must shew In little the great Actions of their Foe 51 THE ONE AND FIFTIETH FABLE Of the Lyon the Forester and his Daughter WHen they had viewd the wonder and the strife Admir'd of Artists working to the life Then drew the Foresters fair Daughter neer And whisper'd in her swarthie Fathers eare The Lyon starts and feels a suddain wound As when at first his Lyonesse he found And made her pregnant in a shadie wood High with mans flesh and draughts of humane blood To whom the Woodman said Sir since the Sun Mounts our Meridian half his businesse done And your own Court so far be pleas'd to share Part of what 's mine though mean yet wholsome fare Oft humane Princes in poor lodges have Gladly repos'd and low roofs honour gave The King the proffer takes to lowlie rooms Yet daily visited with clensing brooms The Lyon is convaid where he in State At a full board in antient Maple sate Where whom the Father never overcame The Daughter did scorch'd with loves cruell flame The Lyon burns the valiant strong and wise Who Javelins did Dogs Men and Nets despise Trammels of bright Hair took a slender Dart Shot from a Virgins eye transpierc'd his heart The amorous Lyon lays his dreadfull jaws Now in her lap gently with dangerous paws Her fair hand seizeth shrinking up his Nails Fain would but could not tell her what he ails Then staring in her face offers to rise Ambitious of her Lip She frighted flys Whom with a grone he draws by th' Garments back And troubled to the trembling Virgin spake Sweet Creature fear not me A Roman slave Who cur'd my fester'd foot once in my Cave I feasted fourty daies and when that I Was Pris'ner took and he condemn'd to die In a sad Theater where Men sate and laugh'd To see how Beasts the blood of wretches quaff'd I mock'd their expectation and did grace My trembling Surgeon with a dear imbrace The story known to him they pardon gave And honouring me sent to my Royall Cave Dear if you knew me I not dreadfull am How many Ladies have made Lyons tame My Grand-sires Berecinthias Chariot drove Not by Force coupled but Almighty Love We with your smiles are rais'd and when you frown The greatest Monarch valews not his Crown Then to her Father turning thus he said Still holding in his armed foot the Maid Lo I the King of Beasts a suter stand And this thy Daughter for our Queen demand We need not tell you what our Interests are In this great Forest and my power in War To you is known but joynd with such a Bride Our race deriving from the Fathers side Such active Spirits strength and valiant hearts From her woomb taking humane forme and Arts How may we be advanc'd where shall our Sons Find limits for their vast Dominions The Sybils Man-Lyon stil'd the wondrous Birth Must rule the Conquer'd Nations of the Earth The * Alexander the Great Macedonian was a type of this Who sent the Spoyles of Persia to Greece Which to his Father was in sleep reveal'd When his Queens woomb he with a Lyon seald Then said the Man I know great Prince you are In desarts King I know your force in War But all the Laws of Men and Gods forbid That humane Creatures should with Salvage Wed. The Lyon then ready to lash his side Rowsing up anger with grim looks replyd Did not a Queen match with an ugly Bear And in dark Caverns liv'd with him a year Was not the pregnant Lady he being slain By Hunters brought to her own Courts again Did not his Son prove a most valiant King And slew all those were at the murthering Of his Dear Father Orson was no Beast Though like his Sire he had a Hairy Breast Thus having said he cruell Weapons draws Sharp Teeth appear and needle-pointed Claws Now wit assist against the Lyons rage Inflam'd with love what Madman would engage Then said the Forester great Sir sheath your arms If you vast Realms will joyn to humble Farmes My Daughter 's yours my error I confesse For many Salvage Beasts in Marriages With Women have conjoynd the golden Asse As fair a Lady hath as ever was Mastives and pious Virgins wed so rife Ballads in Streets have Sung them Dog and Wife Take Sir my Daughter to your Royall Seat Yet one thing for the Damsell I entreat For sweet love grant her this see how she stands Trembling to view your teeth and armed hands Meet her with equall arms that face to face She may as boldly charge with strick't imbrace Then pare and draw them out The Lyon said What ere thou askst I freely give O Maid I will devest my self of all my power And make my Teeth and Claws thy Virgin dowre No sooner said but done with bleeding jaws On tender feet he stands the Woodman draws Then a bright Falchion hanging by his side Which to the Hilts he in his bosome dy'd The Lyon's slain and the Cessation broke When to the dying King the Woodman spoke They that give up their power to foe or friend Let them for Love expect a wofull end They that undoe themselves to purchace Wives Like Indians part with Gold for Beads and Knives Love is a Child and such as Love obey Like Kingdoms fare that Infant Scepters sweigh MORALL The powderd Gallant and the dustie Cloun The horrid Souldier and the subtil Gown Old Young Strong Weak Rich Poor both Fools and Wise Suffer when they with frantick Love advise 52 THE TWO AND FIFTIETH FABLE Of the Forester the Skinner and a Bear THe Lyon slain the greedy Forester Soon strips him of his Robe and Royall fur The Crown and Scepter old Regalities Of many former Princes now are his He takes possession of the Palace which Trophes made proud and spoyls of enemies Rich Where at an Out-crie pretious things are sold At small rates deer to Potentates of old When the same Man that bought the Lyons Skin Thus to the insulting Victor did begin Sir since the Groves are yours and you have won Dark Haunts impenetrable by the Sun The Lyon dead goe and th' ambitious Bear Destroy who now aspires his Masters Chair A Heathen King sent to my Shop this morn To have a Lybian Bears-skin to adorn His spreading shoulders with at
wondrous fortune Erswind stil'd She married Isgrim and if fame be true Him a she Woolf bore to a wandring Jew Who by his humane nature got the hint Of Wolvish discipline in Geneva Print And his mad zeale first made the Forrest blaze This by his howling Rhetorick did raise Arms ' gainst his King did antient right supplant And made Beasts take a beastly Covenant This Urchins calld and stird up senslesse Moles And innocent Sheep inspir'd with Woolvish souls Then Femals like milch Tygers first were seen To rage against the Lyonesse their Queen Steers Colts and Asses did like Panthers stare And Buls horn-mad for Reformation were When Erswind with a blessed Of-spring big Weary with Lamb and Mutton long'd for Pig And thus She howld to move her surly Mate Swines flesh I loath with a Maternall hate Yet for the Of-spring of the Salvage Boar The fat Priests Quarter which I keep in store Which at my lying in I meant should feast My Mother and her Calydonian guest Now I would give to see one Pig depart To eat the Liver and the bleeding Heart When the grim sire reply'd Leave off complaints Afflictions have been wholesome to the Saints But if the Boar her Husband be abroad My mortall Foe by force or pious fraud I le get thee one no scruple is in meat And thou and I abundantly will eat This said he hasts unto the spreading Oke Where lay a pregnant Sow and kindly spoke Sister your Husband hath great service done And by his valour we the victory won But since I hear your Spouse in Countries far Must for small pay attend a lingering War And this your charge is great take friendly helps Some of your Sons I le foster with my Whelps Not in prophaner Arts like Popish Pigs To pettietoe-it on the Organs Jigs When Surplic'd Asses chaunt it to the Lyre Nor they supine shall wallow in the Mire But Pastors be and them I le teach to keep The Sheepish souls of flocks and shear the Sheep They have Prick-ears and as we Teachers wear Howling in hollow trees such is their Hair The Brawny Dame did here break off all speech If you are such a friend Sir I beseech You 'l shew it in your absence nothing more Can me and mine oblige back twentie score That is the greatest favour you can doe You hate all Swine and I abhorre a Jew I hear him whet his tusk the Boar is neer And you have taken a wrong Sow by th' eare Cowring his tail endeavouring to have fled Wings fear not added to his feet but Lead Whom suddainly the angry Boar ore-took Him at whose rage the Lyons partie shook No more resistance than a tender Lamb Made ' gainst this foe whom streight he overcame And with his phang a Window in his side To Flanck from Shoulder rent where as he dy'd The deep Hypocrisie and bloodie ends Writ in his heart were read by foes and friends Soon after that the Boar the Wood enjoy'd And Wolves as new Malignants be destroyd MORALL Mischiefs best Plots Women too oft have laid And tender Females soonest are betraid Some great Seducers make a timely end But oftner they in bloodie sheets descend 72 THE SEVENTIE SECOND FABLE Of the She Goat and Kid. A She Goat Widowed by Civill War As many other wofull Matrons are Although her sequestration a small fine Had taken off Had little cause to laugh For when she rose she knew not where to dine Which made cold cups be Seasond oft with brine One Son she had now Heir Just of his Fathers Haire Her comfort and her care But what did most extoll this gentle Kid He did All the Commands which his dear Mother bid When to her only hope the Parent said I goe dear Child subsistance must be had Where I for thee will crop the tender Bud And search the ground For Moon-wort rarely found Which from our wounds draws steel stops the blood A Soveraign Med'cine and a dainty food But Kid when I am gone Open the Gate to none To friend nor foe not one The Woolf although the Boar hath brought him low I know His Nature keeps and will no mercy shew Shall I forget how he thy father slew When from the Cambrian Hils a Goatish Crew Of British Long-beards with three Sons he lead He pierc'd his throat And dronk his best blood hot Then on his Bowels and his Liver fed As ill woes me thy haplesse brethren sped When down their arms they threw Quarter being granted too Most barbarously he slew And in his Den their Limbs in pieces tore Nay more With their gnawn bones he pav'd his bloodie flore This said away she speeds The Woolf who long Had watch his time skild in the Goatish tongue On 's loyns the British Captains spoils did guird With his fair horns His horrid Brow adorns Down from his Chin hung a long silver Beard As if the King and Father of the Heard Accoutred thus before At the dull Goatheards dore He oft drank Kiddish gore When thus disguis'd with feigned voice he spoke Unlock Long-beard is here the Father of the Flock I live whom Fame reported dead and bring Good tydings never better was the King The Lyon now is fourty thousand strong Enumerous swarms Both old and young take arms And he will thunder at their Gates ere long Changing their tryumph to a dolefull Song And now the Conquering Boar Of those subu'd before Doth speedie aid implore But the dissenting Brethren in one Fate Too late Shall rue they turnd this Forrest to a State Whom Pan his Parents and his King obey'd Duty Belief and Piety betraid And boulted dores he suddainly unbars The Woolf rush'd in Throwing off his borrowd Skin His eys with rage blazing like ominous Stars Which threaten Earth with Famine Plague and Wars Then on the expected prize With open mouth he flies His jaws sweet purple dies When thus th' Insulter did the Kid upbraid And said Let all thus perish wish the Lyon aid MORALL First Gods commands your Parents next obey A thousand Snares Pride Lust and Avarice lay But other arts now taught in modern Schools Stile all our wise and pious Fathers Fools 73 THE SEVENTIE THIRD FABLE Of the Youngman and the Cat. GRimmalkins Grand-child Tyberts Noble race For Beauty gave no Cattish Damsell place Round was her face Her Eys were Grey as Germans or the Gaul The Stars that fall Through gloomy shade cast no such dazeling light Nor Gloeworms that most glorious are by night Her Bosome soft and white Like down of Silver Swans her Head was small And round as any Ball Daily she wore a party-collourd gown Curiously mix'd with white black grey and brown Stoln from her Mothers Teat a young man bred This Femall up and laid her in his Bed Each Morning fed And Evening with warm strokings from the Cow Would Fish allow But not to wet her tender feet afford She may in pleasant Gardens catch a Bird Or make afeard
and slew him streight Then said the Lyon weeping ore his friend Great are the woes unequall beds attend Therefore I judge thou art more happy dead Than those lye tortur'd in a scornfull bed Where Vulturs on their bleeding hearts are fed MORALL Who dare a combat with the devill trie Are often vanquish'd by a Ladies eye Those that from Schools and hot disputings come Are at a Womans presence strucken dumb 11 THE ELEVENTH FABLE Of the Boare and the Asse THe Asse preferr'd from toyl and tedious roads Labours no more now under packs and loads That Goddesse blind To Asses kind Gave him trapings and a golden sadle With the Horse he prances with the Ape he modes And spends his time in fidle fadle His once short maine is powdred curld and dri'd He wears heart breakers too with ribands tide No more he brays But lowdly neighs Love verses madrigals and fancies To some she Asse his mistresse by her side No hobby horse more proudly dances The warlike Boar who never knew to yeild Who oft with bloud and foame had di'd the field He round be set And in the net Would break through Hounds like tamer Cattell Charge horse and man speare sword and shield This beast th' Asse challengeth to battail Sir I have heard a Souldiers horse well shod His Arms his Sword and Pistoll are his God And you I know Have seen the foe By your buff-jerken and your bristles 'T is like the paths of honour you have trod Where Roses doe not grow but Thistles Fortune hath courted me and I court Fame And though the arms we use are not the same The golden Asse Will trie a passe With your Boarship in a duell 'T is true I nere was tri'd by wild or tame Yet honour I esteem a jewell The warlike Boar viewing the Asse so brave Perceiving yet in him more fool than knave Though sudain rage Bids him engage Yet with an Asse he scorns to meddle As Merchants trafficking through th' azure wave To deal with those bear packs and pedle But to the high-fed beast the Boar thus spoke Thou art not worth my anger nor a stroake Yet I le not stick To give you a kick But for a combat choose a brother And there with equall arms your selves provoke One Asse must alwaies beat another MORALL Let valiant men themselves from Cowards blesse Lest Fortune favouring fools grant them successe Who deal with such oft conscious shame disarms While hope of honour the faint-hearted warms 12 THE TWELFTH FABLE Of the Frogs desiring a King SInce good Frogpadock Jove thou didst translate How have we suffer'd turn'd into a State In severall interests we divided are Small hope is left well grounded peace t' obtain Unlesse again Thou hear our prayer Great King of Kings and we for Kings declare That Supreme power may on the people be Setled 't is true but who that day shall see Men beasts and birds nay Bees their King obey When wealthie Regions factious Counsels steer Destruction's neer Thus night and day Grant us a King a King the Frogs did pray Jove hears and smiles at their vain sute but when The great affairs he saw of Gods and men Vext with their clamoring down a block he threw With a huge fragor circkling billows rowle From pole to pole The people flew And far from such a thundring Prince withdrew At last all calm and silent in great State On silver billows he enthroned sate Admir'd and reverenc'd by every Frog His brow like fate without or frown or smile Struck fear a while Then all the bog Proclame their King and cry Jove save King Log. But when they saw he floated up and down Unactive to establish his new Crown Some of the greatest of them without dread Draw neerer to him now both old and young About him throng On 's Crown they tread And last they play at leap-Frog ore his head Streight they proclame a fast and all repair To vex Heavens King again with tedious prayer This stock this wooden Idoll to remove Send them an active Prince a Monarch stout To lead them out One that did love New realms to conquer and his old improve Jove grants their sute ore them the Stork he puts Streight through the fens the dreadfull Long-shanks struts Devowring Subjects with a greedie maw Again the Frogians with a dolefull croak Heavens King invoke He would withdraw This cruell Prince that made his Will a Law Then th' angry God in thunder answer'd these To change your government great Jove did please And you I gave a peacefull Soveraign Since he dislik'd you by the Stygian lake A vow I make The Stork shall reign And you for evermore repent in vain MORALL No government can th' unsetled vulgar please Whom change delight 's think quiet a disease Now Anarchie and Armies they maintain And wearied are for King and Lords again 13 THE THIRTEENTH FABLE Of the Frog and the Oxe FRom the Hydropick kingdoms of the bog Up to a verdant mead With green Plush Carpets spread Comes a proud Frog Who once did tread Upon the head Of his own gracious Soveraign mild King Log. Whom fat with mighty spoyl Of the rich wooden Isle The Stork persu'd the new Malignant flys And now in shadie Grasse in safety lys Amongst the bellowing Herds and bleating flocks This Frog by chance espies Of a prodigious size A stall-fed Oxe Such chines and thighs Good stomacks prize And bones with marrow big as hollow Okes Wide was his spreading horne As Evening from the Morne When thus the Frog in length not half a span Stuff'd up with envy and self-love began I who once greatest of our Nation seem'd Now standing by this clown Whose flesh might feast a town Am unesteem'd And up and down Hop ' thout renown Though no such bull-calf my dear mother teem'd With wind my sides and back I le swell untill they crack Fancy shall help a revelation now Bids me be great as th' of-spring of the Cow Thus having said on his design he falls And both with wind and pride He swels his back and side To his son then calls And said My hide Now grows as wide As that in thongs once measur'd Carthage walls Nor on a larger Chine Did valiant Ajax dine When him the Grecian Generall did invite Unfoyld by Hector in a single fight Then spake his son Father you strive in vain To me you not appear So big as his crop'd eare Ah doe not strain The wind I feare Your sides will tear And though your soul may a new body gain A father I shall lack Should you bear on your back A Castle and inspire an Elephant The Mouse your deadly foe you shall not want Thus the wise son to his fond father spoke While he did strive in vain Four winds to entertain In one small nook Regions where rain And hail remain Must in his bosome be as prisoners took At last he grew as full As Toads live in a scull When at a mighty
rupture enters death And air confind now flys with vitall breath Then spake the son over his gasping sire Hadst thou contented been With this thy little Inn Not aiming higher Here thou hadst seen Good days agen But thou like Icarus didst too much aspire On thy Kings neck hast trod Now th' Oxe th' Egyptian God Strov'st to be like so the proud Angels fell And though in Heaven not knew when they were well MORALL To strive what seems impossible to get A Supererogation is of wit Not follie now when every day we see What men thought once impossible to be 14 15 THE FOURTEENTH FABLE Of the Woolf and the Lamb. IT fortun'd the fierce Woolf and tender Lamb Vex'd with high noon and Phaebus scorching flame To quench their thirst to one cool river came To whom the Woolf betwixt his draughts with slow Yet rancourous speech thus spake How dar'st thou blow My drink and with thy feet up gravell throw Son of a rotten Sire how durst thou slave To cruell man who with thy fleece doth save Himself from cold fowl this cleer silver wave The Lamb astonish'd struck with suddain fear To see his glowing eys and brizly hair Said Sir be patient and your anger spare I humbly crave your pardon that so neer And at one time with you I water here Yet under favour still your stream is cleer I am beneath Sir if you please to note And from your mouth to mine the waters float It passeth yours before it touch my throat The fell Woolf grind his eys like firebrands glow Oh cursed race he said to mine a foe Still plotting harmlesse Wolves to overthrow Thy father mother sacrilegious Lamb And all thy bleating kindred from the damne Stile themselves guiltlesse but I guilty am And none dare say you in Wolves habit come And tear dead bodies from the new built tombe And poor Woolves then for your offences doome Dogs once our brethren cursed Curs you lead Against our race who now will heare us plead When you 'r the cause of all the blood is shed Now by our King Lycaons crown I swear So wrong'd by that rebellious Jupiter Affronted thus no longer I le forbear Thus having said at the poor Lamb he flys His cruell teeth a purple river dies While warm blood spurtles in his face and eys MORALL They that have power to doe may when they will Pick quarrels and pretending justice kill Who hunt for blood and spoyl need not invent New crimes but lay their own on th' innocent 16 THE FIFTEENTH FABLE Of the Woolf and the Crane BUt while the Woolf devour'd the innocent Lamb Raising her voice and eys to heaven the damne Implor'd revenge Pan from the shepherds coat To Menalus heard and fixd a bone in 's throat He wonders what obstructs who warder stood Stopping so old a thorough-fare of blood What shall he doe or where now find a cure Great was the danger nor could he indure The pain while he ore hill and dale did passe To native realms where his own Surgeon was When on a rising banck hard by he spi'd Beline the Ram he could but be deni'd And though his teeth blushd with the purple gore Of his dear son slain neer his mothers dore Yet he would trie in some mischances foes Will with our friends commiserate our woes Upon this score he went and thus bespoak The King and horned father of the flock Sir may your wives be numerous and bear Twins alwaies and be pregnant twice a year And may your beauteous son who on youn banck Conferr'd with me where we together drank Be golden fleec'd and when his horns grow large To thousand Yews a husbands love discharge 'T is true our nations long at ods have been Yet why should publick jars raise private spleen Let there my Lord no personall difference be Or strive we let us strive in Courtesie Favours may purchace love love peace may win Quarrels may end since once they did begin Suspecting plots his Bell wise Beline rung When troops of Rams to guard his person throng Then said Your businesse Sir be brief and know It must be lawfull that I grant a foe When with dejected look thus Isgrim spake A bone sticks crosse my throat some pity take And draw it forth and when the silver Moon Makes low-browd night faintly resemble noon The Goddess I le beseech you never may Want Grasse in Summer nor in Winter Hay No floods in Autumn no destructive cold Send scabs nor rots depopulate your fold And She will hearken to our pious race Oft when She swounds and notes of tinckling brasse Cannot recall nor colour her pale lips Our cries have rescu'd from a dark Eclipse Then Beline said Impudent Woolf be gone Who knows but late thou hast some murther done And this a judgment due to thy desert On paine of death our quarters leave depart Thus to the shaggie Goat he did complain To the swift Dear and the dull Oxe in vain They all refuse and say no punishment On ravening Wolves can be unjustly sent When stalking through the Marsh he meets the Crane Low-Country people know no God but gain To whom the Woolf thrice Congeeing began May your plum'd Phalanx passe the Ocean To Northern Regions safe and landing there May all the Pigmie kingdoms shake with fear And may you Conqueror ore the dwarfish ranks Triumph on Strymon or Caysters bancks But to your friend be kind and draw a bone Sticks in his throat ingratefull i 'm to none Then I le a Trout present thee sweet and good Cleans'd in a silver stream and free from mud If that not satisfie most noble Crane To please thy Pallat this whole Fen I le drain He undertakes the cure nor pluck'd he oft With his long bill but Isgrim's well and cough'd The Bird demands his pay the Woolf at that With a sowr smile repli'd Sir Crane for what For plucking out a bone are thy demands Thou might'st have stretch'd fool on these yellow sands Vent'ring thy long bill in my throat thy head I freely gave thank me thou art not dead Or come and draw another out though loath I shall reward thee nobly then for both When to himself the griev'd Crane mourning said Great favours thus are by th' ingratefull paid MORALL So Merchants having scap'd a dangerous Sea Mocks to their Saints for promis'd offerings pay But some more impious having touch'd dry land Think they performe to let their Statues stand THE SIXTEENTH FABLE Of the Husband-man and the Serpent WHen a cold storm confirm'd the trembling bogs And drove to warmer springs the naked Frogs With 's prong on 's back a simple farmer Boldly goes Through frost and snows Ice on 's beard fire in 's nose A freeze jerkin all his armour To feed Sheep and Cattell fodder Where by chance he found Frozen to the ground Stretch'd at length a dying Adder The cruell Serpent under deaths arrest Strange but the Fable hath sufficient test He takes and in his bosome
crime to pennance here I came Your Sute we grant but as our custome nine Potentates I invite To Sup with me this night So intimate but you with us shall dine Then in their presence lasting Peace I le sign This known nine chosen march through narrow Ports And winding passes forth With many Mice of worth There the fond vulgar in great troups resorts Expecting Banquets in the Cattish Courts No sooner in but stern Pusse shuts the Dore Stops all the chincks and holes Then terror strikes their souls And to a Fury she 's transform'd once more Best strews the room with mangled limbs and gore Which to the Senate a new lesson reads Fair words and simpering looks Are still deceivers hooks None that is wise outward comportment heeds Mortals their face declares not but their deeds MORALL Treaties are full of fraud if rising States Would joyn with Princes and make Kings their mates Let them beware how they confirm the League Monarchs still jealous for small cause Reneage 76 THE SEVENTIE SIXTH FABLE Of the Fox and the Lyon OH all you Gods and Goddesses that dwell In Heaven Earth in Heaven Earth Sea Hell If all your power conjoynd can one protect Save the poor Fox Nor prayer reject What is it I behold His shaggie locks Are prest with shining Gold It is the Lyon See! his spreading Robe Covers at least half the terrestriall Globe Terror of Beasts and Man Whose hard teeth can Crack brazen bones of the Leviathan Help help if me he not in peeces tears I shall in sunder shake with my own fears At first the Fox thus trembled to behold The Scepter'd Lyon Arm'd and Crown'd with Gold But when the King the second time he saw Hunting in green Not so much awe Did in his looks appear Lesse Majesty in 's Mein Then Reynard drew more neer But the third day the bold beast had the face To come up close and cry'd Jove save your grace At last so neer did stand He kist his hand Soon after did the Royall eare command In which he said Custome makes mortals bold To play with that they durst not once behold MORALL Who hate to draw a Sword and Guns abhor Custom hath made most valiant Men-of-War Love's Novice so trembling fresh beauty storms Which soon lyes ruffled in his conquering arms 77 THE SEVENTIE SEVENTH FABLE Of the Lark and her Young IT is the sweet and early chanting Lark That to the Heavenly Quiresters is Clark And mounts the Skie as freely as a spark Yet she in haughty Towres not builds her Nest Nor on the tops of lofty Cedars dwels Which are with all the roring winds opprest That Northern witches conjure up with spels But in Corn Fields her habitations found Flanckt round with earth six inches under ground From whence she issuing to her young ones spake Notice be sure of what you hear to take And strickt acoount at my returning make When thus the Landlord to his Heir begun This Wheat is ripe we must have down this Corn Goe and invite my friends with rising Sun To reap it and at night it shall be Born At this sad news the Larks astonish'd were And told their Mother struck with mighty fear Then said th' old Bird If for his friends he look He may be but I shall not be mistook This Corn need fear no danger of the hook Giving like charge out the next morn she flies While th' old-Man long did friends in vain expect At last he said grown with experience wise Son call our Kindred since our friends neglect Those from our own loyns sprung will not forget That we to morrow may cut down this Wheat Th' affrighted Birds this to their Mother told Who cheer'd them thus Kindred too oft prove cold This Corn will stand and we shall keep our Hold. The second morn made bright the Hemisphere When of the Consanguineous none were seen Then said the Father to the Son I fear We shall not be beholding to our kin Stand to me Boy to morrow thou and I Will reap this Corn Cosens and Friends desie With these the Birds their Mother did acquaint When with a sigh she said We time shall want For we to morow must new regions plant They that with care to their own businesse look Are in the readiest way to have it done But who shall trust to Friends or Kindreds hook Shall find it at a stand or backward run As when the arme against the stream is slack The Boat in the swift Chanell hurries back MORALL Intelligence best moves affairs by which Both Kings and Common-wealths grow great and rich But who their businesse would have follow'd must More to themselves than any other trust 78 THE SEVENTIE EIGHTH FABLE Of the Hauke and the Nightingale WHen the triumphant Sun in his Caroach Cut from an entire Topaz made approach To the great tract betwixt the Golden horns Of the Celestiall Bull When the Ambrosian tresses of fair morns With liquid Pearl were full Then Philomel did from her Nest depart With a sad Omen and a heavy heart To trie neglected Art By the Grove side she on a Haw-thorne bough Sung her first Song and paid her yearly vow Lovers that heard her ere the Cuckows voice Rejoyce Since Valentine chose but she confirms the choice While thus she chants a sharp thorn at her breast A prying Swain who late had found her Nest Came secretly and in her absence stole From thence the Callow young A freshs wound anguish in a wounded Soul What Pen can say or Tongue He to his City Landlord bears the prize But she sends loud Complaints to Marble Skies And moves the Deities Which as relentlesse as their Statues were A Bird of War pickeering through the air A fierce Hauke sent who while she did in vain Complain Siez'd and poor Philomel must now be slain Though great her woe was and she much did grieve Yet at Pale deaths approach she fain would live And from the proud Foe thus begs quarter then This little body spare What is to thee a Nightingale or Wren A Mouthfull but of air Take some large Bird and Fat on whom is Meat Behold on every Tree and Bush they seat And spare me I intreat With frowning look the Faulcon then replies Thus Counsell Daws no Hauk is so unwise When in their pownces they have seiz'd a prey That they Let it in hope of better fly away MORALL A small Estate and sure is better far Than fortunes that in expectations are What we possesse we have fancie may feed The mind but not supply the present need 79 THE SEVENTIE NINTH FABLE Of the Husbandman and the Stork THere was a greedy Villager took pain To Plow deep wrinckles on a Virgin plain Where his strong Steers broke such obdurate glebes As might have danc'd into the Wals of Thebes Instead of stones Harder than Pyrrha's moystned Mothers bones This Swain while he did whet his blunted Share Often to Ceres and Superior Gods Did make