A Person of Quality dream’d one Night that he saw a _Lion_ Kill his only
Son: Who was, it seems, a Generous Cavalier, and a Great Lover of the
Chace. This Fancy ran in the Father’s Head, to that Degree, that he Built
his Son a House of Pleasure, on purpose to keep him out of Harms Way; and
spar’d neither Art nor Cost to make it a Delicious Retreat. This House,
in short, was to be the Young Man’s Prison, and the Father made himself
his Keeper. There were a World of Paintings Every where up and down, and
among the Rest, there was the Picture of a _Lion_; which stirred the
Blood of the Young Man for the Dream sake, and to think that he should
now be a Slave for the Fancy of such a Beast. In this Indignation he made
a Blow at the Picture; but Striking his Fist upon the Point of a Nail in
the Wall, His Hand Cancerated; he fell into a Fever, and soon after Dy’d
on’t: So that all the Father’s Precaution could not Secure the Son from
the Fatality of Dying by a _Lion_.
The MORAL.
_A Body may as well lay too Little as too Much Stress upon a Dream; for
some Dreams are Monitory, as Others are only Complexional; but upon the
Main, the Less we Heed them the Better; for when that Freak has once
taken Possession of a Fantastical Head, the Distemper is Incurable._