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THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
BERNARD MANDEVILLE
AESOP DRESS'D
OR A
COLLECTION
OF
FABLES
_WRIT IN FAMILIAR VERSE_
(1704)
_INTRODUCTION_
BY
JOHN S. SHEA
PUBLICATION NUMBER 120
WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES
1966
GENERAL EDITORS
Earl Miner, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Lawrence Clark Powell, _Wm. Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
ADVISORY EDITORS
Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_
John Butt, _University of Edinburgh_
James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_
Ralph Cohen, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_
Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_
Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_
Everett T. Moore, _University of California, Los Angeles_
James Sutherland, _University College, London_
H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
Edna C. Davis, _Wm. Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
INTRODUCTION
Bernard Mandeville's first extant book in English, _Some Fables after
the Easie and Familiar Method of Monsieur de la Fontaine_, was published
in 1703; it reappeared with additional fables in 1704 as _Aesop
Dress'd_.[1] Neither title reveals that, except for two original fables
by Mandeville, the book consists entirely of verse translations from the
twelve books of La Fontaine's _Fables_ (1668-1694). It is the first
book-length translation from these poems into English.
The only previous translations from _Fables_ into English verse appear
to have been those made ten years earlier by John Dennis. _Miscellanies
in Verse and Prose_ (1693) was a curious volume of Pindaric odes,
imitations of Horace, Juvenal, and Boileau, and letters that the young
Dennis had written during his travels in France and Italy, including the
well-known account of the "delightful horrour" and "terrible Joy" that
he had experienced while crossing the Alps; there were, finally, ten
fables in octosyllabic couplets--all of them translations from La
Fontaine. A word about Dennis's fables may help to put Mandeville's into
perspective.
Their resemblance to the French originals is slight. Not La Fontaine,
but Samuel Butler, presides over Dennis's fables; indeed, when Dennis
discusses them in the Preface to _Miscellanies_, he fails to mention La
Fontaine, although he devotes a large proportion of his remarks to a
defense of Butler's burlesque verse, which he acknowledges as his
model.[2] Many people were writing Hudibrastics in the 1680's and
1690's: the propensity of Butler's couplet for arousing laughter had
made it a fad.[3] With its jog-trot meter, insinuating swiftness, and
jarring double and triple rhymes, the Hudibrastic couplet was ideally
suited to the mockery performed by low burlesque. All burlesque works by
an incongruity between subject and style; the particular function of low
burlesque is to debase an elevated subject by treating it in an
undignified manner.[4] So it was that Butler, with the assistance of a
crazy style, had exploited the gap between the high pretensions and the
ridiculous performances of a Puritan knight and his squire.
But of the hordes of scribblers that followed in the wake of _Hudibras_,
scarcely any possessed Butler's sense of satiric propriety. Where his
success had been founded on the discrepancy between subject and style
that is essential to burlesque, they employed his style with no regard
for its suitability to their subjects. Ordinary narrative poems with no
satiric intent were decked in Hudibrastic couplets for the sake of a
superficial cleverness.[5] Dennis followed the fashion. His ten
verse-fables are filled with outrageous Butlerisms:
Isgrim had all the Winter far'd
So very ill, his looks Men scar'd.
He had (poor Dog!) got an evil habit,
Of going to Bed with the Devil a bit,
So that he had contracted a meen,
Which truly represented Famine.
* * * * *
At sight of Steed that's one huge bit of Fat,
Hight Isgrim's heart for joy went pit a pat.
* * * * *
Had I not known thy Self and Kindred,
Ev'n I my self should have been in dread.
* * * * *
The _Crane's_ arrival was opportune,
Order'd for _Isgrim's_ good by fortune.[6]
Whatever the intentions of the poet, it seems to be the property of the
Hudibrastic couplet inevitably to denigrate its subject. While it is
probable that Dennis intended his fables to be clever and modish, and
nothing more, they turn out to be travesties of La Fontaine.
Dennis was attempting to impose on the animal fable an alien style. From
Aesop to Thurber, the chief strength of the fabulist has been his
humility: by selecting animal stories as the guise for his moral
lessons, he has hoped to disarm his readers into accepting the truth.
This strategy would seem to rule out the style of low burlesque, for the
impulse to this style--a dignified subject to be mocked out of its
dignity--does not exist in the animal fable. In particular the _Fables_
of La Fontaine, perhaps the most graceful, concise, and witty ever
written, do not respond well to the ferocious manner of Dennis. Dennis
translating La Fontaine resembles a bull in a china shop.
While Mandeville is no gazelle either, he has better manners than
Dennis. The Butlerisms are still present, but they are not everywhere
and they are not so grotesque. The difference between Dennis and
Mandeville may be merely the interval of ten years, during which the
influence of Butler had faded; but this seems unlikely, since Bond cites
many examples of the continuing vogue of _Hudibras_, even well into the
1730's.[7] A more probable explanation for the difference is that,
whereas Dennis was an avowed imitator of Butler who happened to be
translating the _Fables_ of La Fontaine, Mandeville seems to have been
in this work chiefly a translator of La Fontaine who was, incidentally,
writing at a time when the impulse to copy Butler's superficial
qualities was almost irresistible. The total number of Hudibrastic
couplets in _Aesop Dress'd_ comes to only a handful:
They'll give you a hundred Niceties,
As Chicken Bones, boyl'd Loins of Mutton,
As good as ever Tooth was put in....
* * * * *
And therefore let my Lord _Abdomen_
Say what he will, we'll work for no Man.
* * * * *
A Cat, whose Sirname pretty hard was,
One Captain _Felis Rodilardus_....
* * * * *
Before the Reign of Buxom Dido,
When Beasts could Speak as well as I do....
* * * * *
The Truth is, it would be a hard Case,
If all this should not mend one's Carcass.[8]
Even these few unmistakable instances are less distracting than the ones
in Dennis. Mandeville's verse is much like his prose: straightforward,
downright, even in tone. Here are the first ten lines of Mandeville's
"The Fox and Wolf":
The Fox went on the search one Night,
The Moon had hung out all her light;
He sees her image in a Well;
But what it was he could not tell;
Gets on the Bricks to look at ease:
At last concludes it is a Cheese:
One Bucket's down, the other up,
He jumps in that which was a-top,
And coming to the Water, sees
How little Skill he had in Cheese.
La Fontaine has this:
... Un soir il [le loup] apercut
La lune au fond d'un puits: l'orbiculaire image
Lui parut un ample fromage.
Deux seaux alternativement
Puisoient le liquide element:
Notre Renard, presse par une faim canine,
S'accommode en celui qu'au haut de la machine
L'autre seau tenoit suspendu.
Voila l'animal descendu,
Tire d'erreur, mais fort en peine,
Et voyant sa perte prochaine....
Dennis had inserted these lines in the pseudo-erudite Butlerian manner:
The two large Buckets which were there,
Like _Pollux_ and like _Castor_ were.
How so pray? For 'tis devilish odd,
To liken a Bucket to a God;
When one came up from towards the Center,
That in our upper world strait went there.
These drew up turns the liquid Element,
Into one got _Renard_, and towards Hell he went.[9]
Nearly all Mandeville's translations are, like "The Fox and Wolf,"
longer than their originals. The added length is partly explained by
meter: Mandeville's octosyllabic line is less capacious, as a rule, than
La Fontaine's flexible one. Thus, even though "The Wolf and the Lamb"
moves with a speed comparable to "Le Loup et l'Agneau," Mandeville takes
34 lines to La Fontaine's 29.[10] More often, Mandeville's translations
are longer than their originals because Mandeville is not able to match
La Fontaine's wit and point. "La Lice et sa Compagne," an exercise in
light-footed elegance, begins this way:
Une Lice etant sur son terme,
Et ne sachant ou mettre un fardeau si pressant,
Fait si bien qu'a la fin sa Compagne consent
De lui preter sa hutte, ou la Lice s'enferme.
In translating, Mandeville expands these four lines to ten without
special gain:
A Bitch, who hardly had a day
To reckon, knew not where to lay
Her Burthen down: She had no Bed;
Nor any Roof to hide her Head;
Desires a Bitch of the same Pack,
To let her have, For Heaven's sake,
Her House against her Lying-in.
Th' other, who thought it was a Sin,
To baulk a Wretch so near her Labour
Says, Yes, 'tis at your Service, Neighbor.[11]
Perhaps it is Mandeville's plainspokenness, his determination to say all
that must be said, which causes him to state explicitly things that La
Fontaine left implicit. "La Cigale et la Fourmi," contrasting an
irresponsible grasshopper and a provident ant, implies but subdues a
contrast between art and life. Mandeville makes the contrast explicit:
And now the hungry Songster's driv'n
To such a state, no Man can know it,
But a Musician or a Poet....[12]
"The Lyon and the Gnat" is fairly close to its original in length (46
lines to La Fontaine's 39) and in spirit; but Mandeville does not
improve his fable by supplying the adjective "silly" ("silly Spider")
where La Fontaine had written "une araignee," or by inserting a line
about the gnat's pride, "Puffed up and blinded with his glory," where La
Fontaine expected his readers to discern the gnat's pride for
themselves.[13] Another translation that sticks close to the French in
its sense is "The Dog and the Ass," in which an ass refuses food to a
hungry dog and is in turn abandoned by the dog and killed by a hungry
wolf. Mandeville adds the judgment that La Fontaine excluded. The wolf
attacks:
Grizz'l [the Ass] at a distance
Hears him, and asks the Dog's assistance;
But he don't budge, _and serves him right;
Says he, I never us'd to fight
Without a cause for fighting's sake_....[14]
The italicized words, entirely added by Mandeville, apparently represent
his conviction that the irony of La Fontaine's fable would be
intensified by the dog's sardonic comment and the translator's "serves
him right." Other examples might be cited of Mandeville's explicitness.
The characterizing details of some of the great fables, however,
disappear in Mandeville's English. Although "The Plague among the
Beasts" is faithful to the original, the tragic overtones of "Les
Animaux malade de la Peste" are not recaptured; they are perhaps
unrecapturable. The ironies of La Fontaine's characterization are
ignored: the lion's "L'histoire nous apprend," for instance, by which
the unscrupulous politician poses as a deep-browed savant; the
description of the other beasts as "petits saints," and of the wolf who
condemns the innocent ass as "quelque peu clerc"--these disappear.[15]
"L'Ivrogne et sa Femme" meets the same fate. Mandeville retains the
outlines of the original but treats the details perfunctorily, as though
he had given up trying to re-create the comic terror of La Fontaine's
little masterpiece. "A drunkard" is not an adequate equivalent for "un
suppot de Bacchus"; "very drunk" is not the same as "plein du jus de la
treille"; entire sentences are left out, such as "La les vapeurs du vin
nouveau / Cuverent a loisir"; and the ending of the poem suffers from
the alteration of details and from an awkward inversion for the sake of
a rhyme:
He says to his dissembling Spirit,
Who are you in the Name of Evil?
She answers hoarsely I'm a Devil,
That carries Victuals to the Damn'd
By me they are with Brimstone cramm'd.
What, says the Husband, do you think
Never to bring them any Drink?
"Quelle personne es-tu? dit-il a ce fantome.
--La celleriere du royaume
De Satan, reprit-elle; et je porte a manger
A ceux qu'enclot la tombe noire."
Le mari repart, sans songer:
"Tu ne leur portes point a boire?"[16]
Of the many differences between La Fontaine and Mandeville, those
noticed up to this point may be blamed on the latter's incapacity. Some
of the other changes may be partially justified on the grounds that
through them Mandeville was deliberately trying to alter the tone of the
poem, to give it an earthiness of spirit congruent with his temperament.
La Fontaine's "Le Lion malade et le Renard" begins with hushed dignity:
De par le roi des animaux,
Qui dans son antre etait malade,
Fut fait savoir a ses vassaux
Que chaque espece en ambassade
Envoyat gens le visiter....
Mandeville's translation begins:
The king of Brutes sent all about,
He was afflicted with the gout....[17]
The gout is a standard comic disease which Mandeville gives to his lion
to make him comically undignified. La Fontaine's lion remains dignified
and restrained throughout. (The two versions of this fable are also
instances of the relative capabilities of the French and the English
four-stress lines.) In another fable, a tonal difference appears in some
lines describing the meeting of a haggard wolf and a well-fed dog:
Le Loup donc l'aborde humblement,
Entre en propos, et lui fait compliment
Sur son embonpoint, qu'il admire.
And therefore in a humble way
He gives the Dog the time o' th' Day;
Talks mighty complaisant, and vents
A Waggon Load of Compliments
Upon his being in such a Case,
His brawny Flank and jolly Face.[18]
The tone of polite gravity is gone; what remains is less succinct, but
more specific, and in its way effective. When Mandeville's invention is
working well, as it does in "The Wolf and Dog," it provides, in its
colloquial heartiness, an adequate substitute for La Fontaine's
refinement of tone and subtlety of detail. On the whole, his fables are
close to their originals, especially when compared to those of Dennis,
even though "the easie and familiar method of Monsieur de La Fontaine"
is something that, despite his professions, Mandeville fails to
reproduce.
Only two years intervened between Mandeville's translations from La
Fontaine (1703) and _The Grumbling Hive_ (1705), the 433-line fable
that, through the years, would grow into that great repository of
social, political, and economic nonconformity, _The Fable of the Bees_.
It is not surprising that many of the fables which Mandeville chose to
translate anticipate the themes of his great work. Among these are "The
Milk Woman," on the self-flatery of the egoistic dream; "The Frogs
asking for a King," on the instability of human desires; "The Wolves and
the Sheep," on political self-deception; "Hands, Feet, and Belly," on
social interdependence; and "The Lyon grown Old," on the ultimate blow
to pride.[19]
Since Mandeville would give so much space in _The Fable of the Bees_ to
his analysis of pride,[20] it is appropriate that pride engaged his
attention in this early book of fables. "The Frog" is notable chiefly
because Mandeville lengthened La Fontaine's moral of four lines to
fourteen in order to glance at the social and economic implications of
pride:
So full of Pride is every Age!
A Citizen must have a Page,
A Petty Prince Ambassadors,
And Tradesmens Children Governours;
A Fellow, that i'n't worth a Louse,
Still keeps his Coach and Country-house;
A Merchant swell'd with haughtiness,
Looks ten times bigger than he is;
Buys all, and draws upon his Friend,
As if his Credit had no end;
At length he strains with so much Force,
Till, like the Frog, he bursts in course,
And, by his empty Skin you find,
That he was only fill'd with Wind.[21]
Two of the 39 fables in the collection are original productions: "The
Carp" and "The Owl and the Nightingale." Both poems focus upon pride.
"The Carp" tells the story of a young and inexperienced English carp who
swims into foreign waters to learn "manners and arts." Warned by a
herring to go home and learn first about his own country, the carp
rebuffs this honest advice, takes up with fops, and is drawn into ruin
before he finally returns home "as vain and ignorant, / As e'er he was
before he went." The subject of the moral reflections at the end is
self-delusion in the particular form of sophisticated vanity.[22] The
other poem, "The Owl and the Nightingale" (the longest poem in the
collection, at 181 lines), also concerns pride. The Eagle, having
looked unsuccessfully among the birds of his court for a singing
night-watchman, sends out a general letter. The nightingale realizes
with excitement that he will easily win the competition; but
he coyly refuses to go to court until sent for, makes elaborate
self-depreciations in the eagle's presence, and hold out, obviously, for
more recognition and reward. While he delays, an owl has been persuaded
by friends to try for the position and has a hearing. Although he sings
unskillfully, he manages to stay awake. When the nightingale returns to
court the next day, he is infuriated to learn that an owl is competing
against him and that the eagle has ordered the two birds to perform
against one another that night. The nightingale protests so loudly and
treasonably that he is kicked out of court, and the owl, dull but
faithful, is declared the winner. The moral follows:
Princes can never satisfy
That Worth that rates itself too high.
What pity it is! some Men of Parts
Should have such haughty stubborn Hearts:
When once they are courted they grow vain:
Ambitious Souls cannot contain
Their Joy, which when they strive to hide,
They cover it with so much Pride,
So Saucy to Superiors,
Impatient of Competitors,
Th' are utterly untractable,
And put off like our Nightingale.
Many with him might have been great,
Promoted Friends, and serv'd the State,
That have beheld, with too much Joy,
The wish'd for Opportunity;
Then slipt it by their own Delays,
Sloth, Pride, or other willful Ways.
And ever after strove in vain
To see the Forelock once again.[23]
In some respects this poem looks forward to _The Fable of the Bees_.
Mandeville subjects the nightingale to a brief psychological analysis
and looks on his failure with a blend of detached pity and satiric
mordancy; he strips away the sophisticated defenses that hide the basic
emotions, recommending honesty with oneself and with others; he
identifies the personal interests of the members of society with the
interests of the state. It remains to point out that neither here nor
elsewhere in this collection does Mandeville assert that private vices
are public benefits.
Washington University
NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION
[1] F. B. Kaye, ed., _The Fable of the Bees_ (Oxford, 1924), I, xxx.
[2] The Preface to _Miscellanies in Verse and Prose_ is reprinted in
Edward Niles Hooker's edition of _The Critical Works of John Dennis_, I
(Baltimore, 1939), 6-10.
[3] Richmond P. Bond, _English Burlesque Poetry_, 1700-1750 (Cambridge,
Mass., 1932), p. 147.
[4] Bond, pp. 3-5.
[5] Bond, p. 153, cites several narrative poems of this sort.
[6] From these fables in the 1693 _Miscellanies_: "The Wolf and the
Horse," pp. 72-83 (the first two excerpts); "The Lyon and the Ass a
Hunting," pp. 92-95; "The Wolf and the Crane," pp. 101-105.
[7] _English Burlesque Poetry_, pp. 149-152.
[8] These instances occur, respectively, in "The Wolf and Dog," "The
Hands, Feet, and Belly," "Council Held by the Rats," "The Lyon in Love,"
and "The Weasel and the Rat."
[9] _Aesop Dress'd_, p. 73; La Fontaine, "Le Loup et le Renard," XI. vi;
Dennis, _Miscellanies_, p. 117.
[10] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 64-65; La Fontaine, I. x.
[11] La Fontaine, II, vii; "The two Bitches," _Aesop Dress'd_, p. 37.
[12] La Fontaine, I. i; "The Grasshopper and Ant," _Aesop Dress'd_, pp.
17-18.
[13] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 48-50; La Fontaine, "Le Lion et le Moucheron,"
II. ix.
[14] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 71-73; La Fontaine, "L'Ane et le Chien," VIII.
xvii.
[15] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 14-15; La Fontaine, VII. i.
[16] "The Drunkard and his Wife," _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 24-25; La
Fontaine, III. vii.
[17] La Fontaine, VI. xiv; "The Sick Lyon and the Fox," _Aesop Dress'd_,
pp. 38-39.
[18] La Fontaine, "Le Loup et le Chien," I. v; "The Wolf and Dog,"
_Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 2-4.
[19] The poems appear on the following pages of _Aesop Dress'd_: "The
Milk Woman," pp. 18-19; "The Frogs asking for a King," pp. 62-64; "The
Wolves and the Sheep," pp. 45-46; "Hands, Feet, and Belly," pp. 7-10;
"The Lyon grown Old," pp. 65-66. For the corresponding fables in La
Fontaine see the notes to the text of the present edition.
[20] See Kaye, II, 371, s. v. "Pride."
[21] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 4-5; La Fontaine, "La Grenouille qui se veut
aussi grosse que le Boeuf," I. iii.
[22] _Aesop Dress'd_, pp. 25-27.
[23] Ibid., pp. 27-33.
NOTES TO THE TEXT
For each of Mandeville's fables except "The Carp" and "The Nightingale
and Owl," which are originals, I have indicated below the original in La
Fontaine's _Fables_ by title, book, and number.
1. "The Two Dragons": "Le Dragon a plusieurs Tetes, et le Dragon a
plusieurs Queues," I. xii.
2. "The Wolf and Dog": "Le Loup et le Chien," I. v.
3. "The Frog": "La Grenouille qui se veut faire aussi grosse que le
Boeuf," I. iii.
4. "The Pumkin and Acorn": "Le Gland et la Citrouille," IX. iv.
5. "The Hands, Feet, and Belly": "Les Membres et l'Estomac," III. ii.
6. "The Countryman and the Knight": "Le Jardinier et son Seigneur," IV.
iv.
7. "The Plague among the Beasts": "Les Animaux malades de la Peste,"
VII. i.
8. "The Grasshopper and Ant": "La Cigale et la Fourmi," I. i.
9. "The Milk Woman": "La Laitiere et le Pot au Lait," VI. x.
10. "The Cock, the Cat, and the young Mouse": "Le Cochet, le Chat, et le
Souriceau," VI. v.
11. "The Cock and Pearl": "Le Coq et la Perle," I. xx.
12. "The Lyon's Court": "La Cour du Lion," VII. vii.
13. "The Drunkard and his Wife": "L'Ivrogne et sa Femme," III. vii.
14. "Council held by the Rats": "Conseil tenu par les Rats," II. ii.
15. "The Bat and the Two Weasels": "La Chauve-Souris et les deux
Belettes," II. v.
16. "The two Bitches": "La Lice et sa Compagne," II. vii.
17. "The Sick Lyon and the Fox": "Le Lion malade et le Renard," VI. xiv.
18. "The Satyr and the Passenger": "Le Satyre et le Passant," V. vii.
19. "The Lyon in Love": "Le Lion amoureux," IV. i.
20. "The Angler and the Little Carp": "Le petit Poisson et le Pecheur,"
V. iii.
21. "The Wolves and the Sheep": "Les Loups et les Brebis," III. xiii.
22. "The Wasps and Bees": "Les Frelons et les Mouches a Miel," I. xxi.
23. "The Lyon and the Gnat": "Le Lion et le Moucheron," II. ix.
24. "The Woodcleaver and Mercury": "Le Bucheron et Mercure," V. i.
25. "The Hare and his Ears": "Les Oreilles du Lievre," V. iv.
26. "The Rat and the Frog": "La Grenouille et le Rat," IV. xi.
27. "The Cat and an old Rat": "Le Chat et un vieux Rat," III. xviii.
28. "The Weasel and the Rat": "La Belette entree dans un Grenier," III.
xvii.
29. "The Wolf and the Stork": "Le Loup et la Cicogne," III. ix.
30. "The Frogs asking for a King": "Les Grenouilles qui demandent un
Roi," III. iv.
31. "The Wolf and the Lamb": "Le Loup et l'Agneau," I. x.
32. "The Lyon grown old": "Le Lion devenu vieux," III. xiv.
33. "The two Physicians": "Les Medecins," V. xii.
34. "Love and Folly": "L'Amour et la Folie," XII. xiv.
35. "A She-Goat, a Sheep and a Sow": "Le Cochon, la Chevre, et le
Mouton," VIII. xii.
36. "The Dog and the Ass": "L'Ane et le Chien," VIII. xvii.
37. "The Fox and Wolf": "Le Loup et le Renard," XI. vi.
_Text_
The text of _Aesop Dress'd_ here reprinted is that in the Harvard
University Library.
AESOP Dress'd;
OR A
COLLECTION
OF
FABLES
Writ in Familiar Verse.
By _B. Mandeville_, M. D.
_LONDON_:
Sold at _Lock's-Head_ adjoyning to _Ludgate_.
Price One Shilling.
The INDEX.
_The two Dragons_ Page 1
_The Wolf and Dog_ 2
_The Frog_ 4
_The Pumkin And Acorn_ 5
_The Hands, and Feet, and Belly_ 7
_The Countryman and the Knight_ 10
_The Plague among the Beasts_ 14
_The Grashopper and Ant_ 17
_The Milk Woman_ 18
_The Cock, the Cat, and the young Mouse_ 20
_The Cock and Pearl_ 22
_The Lyon's Court_ 23
_The Drunkard and his Wife_ 24
_The Carp_ 25
_The Nightingale and Owl_ 27
_Council held by the Rats_ 34
_The Bat and the two Weasels_ 36
_The two Bitches_ 37
_The Sick Lyon and the Fox_ 38
_The Satyr and the Passenger_ 40
_The Lyon in Love_ 41
_The Angler and the little Carp_ 43
_The Wolves and the Sheep_ 44
_The Wasps and the Bees_ 46
_The Lyon and Knat_ 48
_The Woodcleaver and Mercury_ 50
_The Hare and his Ears_ 52
_The Rat and the Frog_ 53
_The Cat and old Rat_ 56
_The Weasel and the Rat_ 59
_The Wolf and the Stork_ 60
_The Frogs asking for a King_ 62
_The Wolf and Lamb_ 64
_The Lyon grown old_ 65
_The two Physicians _ 66
_Love and Folly_ 67
_A She-Goat, a Sheep, and a Sow_ 69
_The Dog and Ass_ 71
THE
PREFACE _to the_ READER.
_Prefaces and Cuts are commonly made use of much to the same Purpose; to
set off, and to explain. The latter, being too expensive, are pretty
well out of date, in an Age, where there are abundance of fine things to
be bought besides Books. But the first by wicked Custom, are become so
necessary, that a Volume would look as defective without one, as if it
wanted the very Title Page. Though it is hard I should be compelled to
talk to my Reader, whether I have any thing to say to him or not. Nay,
what is worse, every Body thinks a Man should be more lavish here of his
Skill and Learning, than anywhere else: Here they would have him shew
his Airs, and therefore most Authors adorn their Prefaces, as if they
were triumphal Arches; there's nothing empty to be seen about 'em, and
from top to bottom they are to be crowded with Emblems and pretty
Sayings, judiciously interwoven with Scraps of_ Latin; _though they
should borrow 'em from the Parson of the Parish. These, I say, are the
Entertainments where they love to glut us with Wit and fine Language;
though they starve us for ever after: Which makes some of 'em look like
a rich piece of Fillegrew Work over the Door of an empty Parlour. But I
am resolved my Portico shall suit with the rest of the House, and, as
every thing is plain within, nothing shall be carv'd or gilt without:
Besides, I hate formality, Good Reader, and all my Business with you is
to let you know, that I have writ some Fables in Verse, after the
Familiar Way of a Great Man in_ France, Monsieur de la Fontaine. _I have
confin'd my self to strict Numbers, and endeavour'd to make 'em free and
natural; if they prove otherwise, I'm sorry for it. Two of the Fables
are of my own Invention; but I am so far from loving 'em the better,
that I think they are the worst in the Pack: And therefore in good
Manners to my self I conceal their Names. Find 'em out, and welcome.
I could wish to have furnish'd you with something more worthy your
precious time: But as you'll find nothing very Instructive, so there's
little to puzzle your Brain. Besides, I desire every Body to read 'em at
the same Hours I writ 'em, that's when I had nothing else to do. If any
like these Trifles, perhaps I may go on; if not, you shall be troubled
with no more of 'em: And so fare ye well_ Reader.
_The_ TWO DRAGONS. A Fable.
Not long ago th' Ambassador
From the great _Turk_ to the Emperor,
Extoll'd his Master's strength, beyond
The _German_ Force; a Courtier, fond
Of his own Country, boastingly
Said, his Imperial Majesty
Had many Princes under him,
So powerful, that each of 'em,
Could raise an Army of his own,
And more than one that wore a Crown.
I know, says th' other, very well,
Your Dukes and Pow'rs Electoral,
With others, that advance the glory
Of th' Empire. But I'll tell y' a story:
I dreamt I saw a frightful Beast,
That had a hundred Heads at least;
At first I startled at the sight;
But soon recovering from my Fright,
I ventured on, and coming near it,
I found I had no cause to fear it:
For every Head did what it would;
Some work'd with all the Force they could;
But most of 'em lay of a heap,
And look'd as if th' been asleep;
Others, in hopes of better Prey,
Were pulling quite another way.
I turn'd my Head about, and spied
A mighty Beast, on the other side:
One Head adorn'd his Brawny Neck;
But hundred Tails did close his Back;
And as the Heads march'd o'er the Land,
The Tails did follow at Command;
Did Execution every where;
I waked, and thought the Monsters were
Both Empires; but the Tails are ours,
And all the glorious Heads are yours.
_The Wolf and Dog._
A Wolf so pitious poor and thin,
His very Bones stuck through his Skin,
(A sign the Dogs were watchful) met
A sturdy Mastiff, slick and fat.
Sir Wolf, revengeful on his Foes,
Had murder'd him, as one of those
That hinder'd him from stealing Cattle;
But was afraid of joyning Battle
With one, that look'd, as if he could
Stand buff, and make his party good.
And therefore in an humble way
He gives the Dog the time o'th' Day;
Talks mighty complaisant, and vents
A Waggon Load of Compliments
Upon his being in such a Case,
His brawny Flank and jolly Face.
Sir Wolf, replies the Mastiff, you
May be as fat as any Doe,
If you'll but follow my advice;
For Faith, I think you are unwise,
To ramble up and down a Wood,
Where's nothing to be had, that's good,
No Elemosynary meat,
Or e'er a bit, that's good to eat,
But what is got by downright force,
For which at last you pay in course.
And thus yourselves, your hagged Wives
And Children lead but wretched lives;
Always in fear of being caught,
Till commonly y'are starv'd or shot.
Quoth Wolf, shew me a livelyhood,
And then, the Devil take the Wood:
I stand in need of better Diet,
And would be glad to feed in quiet:
But, pray, What's to be done, an't please ye?
Nothing, but what is very easy;
To bark at Fellows that look poor,
Fright pilfring Strolers from the Door;
And then, which is the chiefest matter,
To wag your Tail, to coax and flatter
Those of the Family; for this
They'll give you hundred Niceties,
As Chicken Bones, boyl'd Loins of Mutton,
As good as ever Tooth was put in,
The licking of a greasy Dish,
And all the Dainties Heart can wish;
Besides, the Master shall caress ye,
Spit in your Mouth, and----Heaven bless ye.
Good Sir, let's go immediately,
Reply'd the Wolf, and wept for Joy.
They went; and tho' they walk'd apace,
The Wolf spy'd here and there a Place
About the Neck of Mastiff, where,
It seems, his Curship lost some Hair,
And said, pray Brother Dog, What's this?
Nothing. Nay, tell me, what it is;
It looks like gall'd. Perhaps 'tis from
My Collar. Then, I find, at home
They tie you. Yes. I'm not inclin'd to't,
Or goes it loose when y'have a Mind to't,
Truely not always; but what's that?
What's that! quoth he; I smell a Rat;
My Liberty is such a Treasure,
I'll change it for no Earthly Pleasure;
At that his Wolfship fled, and so
Is flying still for ought I know.
_The Frog._
A Frog threw his ambitious Eyes
Upon an Ox, admired his size,
And, from the smallness of an Egg,
Endeavoured to become as big.
He swells himself, and puffs, and blows,
And every foot, cries there he goes.
Well, Brother, have I bulk enough,
An't I as large, as he? What stuff!
Pray look again. The Dev'l a bit.
Then now. You don't come near him yet.
Again he swells, and swells so fast,
Till, straining more, he bursts at last.
So full of Pride is every Age!
A Citizen must have a Page,
A Petty Prince Ambassadors,
And Tradesmens Children Governours;
A Fellow, that i'n't worth a Louse,
Still keeps his Coach and Country-house;
A Merchant swell'd with haughtiness,
Looks ten times bigger than he is;
Buys all, and draws upon his Friend,
As if his Credit had no end;
At length he strains with so much Force,
Till, like the Frog, he bursts in course,
And, by his empty Skin you find,
That he was only fill'd with Wind.
_The Pumkin and Acorn._
A Self conceited Country Bumkin
Thus made his glosses on a Pumkin.
The Fruit, says he, is very big,
The Stalk not thicker than a Twig,
Scarce any Root, great Leaves; I wonder,
Dame Nature should make such a blunder:
Had I been she, I would have plac'd it
On yon high Oak, and 'twould have grac'd it
Better than Acorns; its a whim
A little Shrub would do for them;
Why should a Tree so tall and fine,
Bear small stuff only fit for Swine?
But hundred things are made in waste,
Which shews the World was fram'd in haste.
Had I been sent for in those Days,
'Twould have been managed otherwise:
I would have made all of a suit,
And large Trees should have had large Fruit.
Thus he went on, and in his Eyes,
The Simpleton was very wise;
A little after, coming nigh
An Oak, whose Crown was very high,
He liked the Place and down he laid
His weary Carcass, in the Shade:
But, as the find-fault Animal
Turn'd on his Back, an Acorn fell,
And hit his Nose a swinging Blow.
Good God was this the Pumkin now!
The very thought on't struck him dumb:
He prais'd his Maker, and went home.
The Moral.
_The World's vast Fabrick is so well
Contrived by its Creator's Skill;
There's nothing in't, but what is good
To him, by whom its understood;
And what opposes Human Sence,
Shews but our Pride and Ignorance._
_The Hands, Feet, and Belly._
The Hands and Feet in Council met,
Were mightily upon the Fret,
And swore 'twas something more than hard,
Always to work without reward.
The Feet said, truly its a Jest,
That we should carry all the rest;
March at all Hours thro thick and thin,
With Shoes that let the Water in;
Our Nails are hard as Bullock's Horns,
Our Toes beset with plaguy Corns;
We rais'd four Blisters th' other Night,
And yet got not a farthing by't.
Brothers, reply'd the Hands, 'tis true,
We know what hardship's y' undergo;
But then w' are greater Slaves than you;
For tho' all day we scrape and rake,
And labour till our Fringers ake;
Tho' we've been ply'd at every thing;
Yet then, without considering
What pains or weariness we feel,
W'are forced to serve at every meal,
And often, whilst you're set at ease,
Drudge to the Knucles up in Grease;
As for your Corns and Nails in troth,
We have the trouble of cutting both.
Take this not, Brothers, in a sence,
That might create a Difference;
We only hinted it, to shew
We're full as badly us'd as you;
Our Grievances are general,
And caused by him that swallows all;
The ungrateful Belly is our bane,
Whom with our labour we maintain;
The ill natured'st Rogue, that e'er was fed,
The lazy'st Dog, that lives by Bread.
For him we starve; for what d'ye think
Becomes of all the Meat and Drink?
'Tis he, that makes us look so thin,
To stretch his everlasting Skin;
Tho' we do all his Business,
What did he ever give to us?
And therefore let my Lord _Abdomen_
Say what he will, we'll work for no Man.
Nay if we scratch him tho' he itches,
Calls us a hundred Sons of Bitches.
And, if you do the same, you'll see, }
He'll quickly be as lean as we; }
What say ye, Brothers, do y' agree? }
Yes, says the Feet, and he be curst,
That dares to think of stirring first.
And thus the Rebels disobey;
Who swear they'll now keep Holy-day,
Resolv'd to live like Gentlemen.
His Gutship calls and calls again,
They answer'd they would toil no more;
But rest as he had done before:
But soon the Mutineers repent; }
The Belly when his Stock was spent, }
Could not send down the Nourishment, }
That's requisite for every part;
The weakness seiz'd the drooping Heart:
Till all the Members suffer'd by't,
And languished in a woeful plight:
They saw, when 'twas too late, how he,
Whom they accused of Gluttony,
Of Laziness, Ingratitude, }
Had labour d for the common Good, }
By ways they never understood. }
The Moral.
_The Belly is the Government,
From whence the Nourishment is sent,
Of wholesome Laws for mutual Peace,
For Plenty, Liberty, and Ease,
To all the Body Politick,
Which where it fails the Nation's sick.
The Members are the discontent_
Pleibeians; _that are ignorant,
How necessary for the State
It is, that Princes should be great:
Which, if their Pomp and Pow'r were less,
Could not preserve our Happiness.
The Vulgar think all Courts to be
But Seats of Sloth and Luxury;
Themselves, but Slaves compell'd to bear
The Taxes, and the Toils of War;
But in this Fable they may see
The dismal Fruits of Mutiny;
Whilst Subjects, that assist the Crown,
But labour to maintain their own._
_The Countryman and the Knight._
An honest Countryman had got
Behind his House a pretty Spot,
Of Garden Ground, with all what might
Contribute to the Taste and Sight,
The Rose and Lilly, which have been
Still kept to compliment the Skin,
Poppies renown'd for giving ease,
With Roman Lettice, Endive, Pease,
And Beans, which Nat'ralists do reckon
To be so ominous to Bacon.
The Beds were dung'd, the Walks well swept,
And every thing was nicely kept.
Only a Hare wou'd now and then
Spite of the Master and the Men
Make raking work for half a day,
Then fill her Gut and scow'r away.
In vain they beat and search the Ground,
The cunning Jilt can ne'er be found,
The Master once in angry Mood }
Starts up and swears by all that's good, }
He'd be revenged, that he would. }
Runs to a Country Knight his Neighbour,
And there complains how all his labour
Was spoil'd by one confounded Hare,
Which though the'd watch'd her every where
He nor his People ne'er could catch,
And of a certain was a Witch.
His Worship smiles and promises
To rid him of the Sawcy Puss.
At break of Day _Jack_ winds his Horn,
The Beagles scamper thro' the Corn;
Deep mouth'd Curs set up a Cry,
And make a cursed Symphony.
Now stir you Rogues; the Knight is come
With _Robin_, _Lightfoot_, _Dick_ and _Tom_.
The House is full of Dogs and Boys,
And ev'ry where's a horrid Noise,
Well, Landlord, Come, What shall we do?
Must w' eat a Bit before we go?
What have you got? Now all's fetch'd out,
The Victuals rak'd, and tore about.
One pairs the Loaf, another Groom }
Draws Beer, as if he was at home, }
And spils it half about the Room. }
What Horseman's yonder at the Door?
Why, Faith, there's half a dozen more:
They're Gentlemen, that live at Court,
Come down the Country for some Sport;
Some old Acquaintance of the Knight,
Who whips from Table, bids 'em light.
They ask no Questions but sit down,
Fall too as if it was their own.
One finishes the Potted Salmon,
Then swears, because he had no Lemon.
Good Lord, how sharp the Rogues are set!
It puts my Landlord in a Sweat.
His Daughter comes with fresh Supplies
Of Collard Beef, and Apple-pies.
His Worship falls aboard of her;
The modest Creature quakes for fear.
When do we marry Mistress _Ann_?
Who is to be the happy Man?
He takes her Hand, and chucks her Chin,
Stares in her Face, commends her Skin,
Removes her Linnen, shews her Neck;
There's Milk, and Blood, Gad take me _Jack_.
She blushes, and he vows she is
A pretty Girl, then takes a Kiss;
She don't consent, nor dares deny,
Defends herself respectfully;
And now the Knight would let her go; }
Another Rake cries, Damme no: }
I'll have a Kiss as well as you. }
He hugs her close, then calls her Dear,
And whispers bawdy in her Ear.
My charming Rogue, I would not hurt ye.
She answers not, but drops a Courtsie.
He's rude, and she's asham'd to squeak;
Her Father sees it, dares not speak;
But patiently enduring all,
Stands like a Statue in the Hall.
Now for the Garden and the Hare,
The Dogs get in, and scrape and tear,
The Horsemen follow, leap the Rails;
Down goes the Quick-set-hedge, and Pales.
The Huntsman hollows, runs and pushes,
All goes to Rack, the Borders, Bushes.
And now my Landlord cries amain,
You've ruin'd me; but all in vain.
The Cabbages are kick'd about,
And Flowers with Roots and all pull'd out.
The Beds are levell'd with the Ground,
At last poor trembling Puss is found
Hid underneath a Collyflower.
The Prey is took, away they scower,
And leave our Countryman to think
On all his Loss of Meat and Drink:
What havock's made in ev'ry place,
His Daughter wrong'd before his Face.
Small was the Mischief of the Hare
To ravenous Hunters to compare.
He wrings his Hands, and all in Tears
Repents his foolish rashness, swears,
He'll ne'er call help again in haste,
Since Hounds and Horses made more waste,
In half an hour, than all the Hares
Of th' Country could in Seven Years.
The Moral.
_When petty Princes can't agree,
And strive for Superiority,
They often take my Landlord's Course,
Invite for Aid a foreign Force;
And when their Subjects Slaves are made,
Their Countries all in ruins laid,
As commonly it proves their fate,
Repent with him when it's too late._
_The Plague among the Beasts._
One time a mighty Plague did pester
All Beasts Domestick and _Sylvester_,
They try'd a world of Remedies;
But none that conquer'd the Disease:
And, as in the Calamity
All did not dye, so none were free.
The Lyon in this Consternation
Sends by his Royal Proclamation
To all his loving Subjects greeting,
And summons 'em t' a general Meeting;
And when they're come about his Den,
He says, my Lords and Gentlemen,
I believe you're met full of the Sence
Of this consuming Pestilence;
Sure such extraordinary Punishment
On common Crimes was never sent;
Therefore it took its derivation,
Not from the trivial Sence of the Nation;
But some notorious Wickedness; }
Then let us search our Consciences, }
And ev'ry one his Faults confess. }
We'll judge the biggest and the least,
And he that is the wicked'st Beast
Shall as a Sacrifice be giv'n,
T'allay the wrath of angry Heav'n,
And serve our Sins an expiation
By ancient way of Immolation;
And, since no one is free from Sin,
Thus with my own I'll first begin.
I've kill'd an Ox, and which is worse,
Committed Murder on a Horse;
And one Day, as I am a Sinner,
I have eat seven Pigs for Dinner,
Robb'd Woods, and Fens, and like a Glutton,
Fed on whole Flocks of Lamb and Mutton:
Nay sometimes, for 'tis in vain to lie,
The Shepherd went for Company.
This was his Speech; when Chanc'lor Fox
Cries out, what signifies an Ox,
Or Horse? Sure those unworthy things
Are honour'd, when made sport for Kings.
But, Sir, your Conscience is too nice,
Hunting's a Princely Exercise:
As for the Sheep, that foolish Cattle,
Not fit for Carriage nor for Battle,
And being tolerable Meat,
Are good for nothing, but to eat.
The shepherd your sworn Enemy
Deserv'd no better Destiny.
Thus was he, that had sin'd for Twenty,
Clear'd _Nemine Contradicente_.
The Bear, the Tyger, Beasts that fight,
And all that could but scratch or bite
Came off well; for their gross Abuses
Others as bad found Excuses.
Nay even the Cat of wicked Nature
That kills at play his Fellow Creature
Went scot free: But his Gravity
An Ass of stupid Memory
Confess'd, that, going to _Sturbridge_-Fair
His Back most broke with Wooden-ware,
He chanc'd half starv'd, and faint, to pass
By a Church-yard with exc'lent Grass,
They had forgot to shut the Gate,
He ventur'd in, stoop'd down and ate.
Hold, cries Judge Wolf, no more, for Crimes
As these, deserve such fatal Times.
By several Acts of Parliament
'Tis Sacriledge, they all consent;
And thus the silly virtuous Ass
Was Sacrifis'd for eating Grass.
The Moral.
_The Fable shews you poor Folk's fate
Whilst Laws can never reach the Great._
_The Grasshopper and Ant._
A Merry Grasshopper, that sung
And tun'd it all the Summer long,
Fed on small Flies, and had no Reason
To have sad thoughts the gentler Season;
For when 'twas hot the Wind at South,
The Victuals flew into his Mouth:
But when the Winters cold came on,
He found he was as much undone,
As any Insect under Heav'n;
And now the hungry Songster's driv'n
To such a state, no Man can know it,
But a Musician or a Poet,
He makes a Visit to an Ant,
Desires he would relieve his want;
I come not in a begging way, }
Says he, No Sir, name but a day }
In _July_ next, and I'll repay, }
Your Interest and your Principal
Shall both be ready at a Call.
The thrifty Ant says truly Neighbour,
I get my Living by hard Labour;
But you, that in this Storm came hither,
What have you done when 'twas fair Weather?
I've sung, replies the Grasshopper;
Sung! says the Ant, your Servant, Sir;
If you have sung away the best
Of all the Year, go dance the rest.
_The Milk Woman._
A Straping Dame, a going to Town
To sell her Milk with thin Stuff Gown,
And Coats tuck'd up fit for a Race,
Marches along a swinging Pace:
And in her Thoughts already counts
The Price to which her Milk amounts;
She fancies all is sold, and lays
The Money out a hundred ways;
At last she's fix'd, and thinks it plain,
That Eggs would bring the surest Gain:
She buys a hundred, which she reckons
Will four Weeks hence be six Score Chickens.
Such mighty care she takes to rear 'em,
No Fox or Kite can e'er come near 'em,
The finest Hens are kept for Eggs;
The others sold to buy some Piggs;
To whom a little Bran she gives
With Turnep-tops and Cabbage leaves;
And tho' they get no Pease to speak on,
Yet in short time they're sold for Bacon.
O! how the Money pleas'd her Thought
For which a Cow and Calf are bought;
She'll have 'em on the Common kept,
There see 'em jump, at that she leapt
For joy; down comes the Pail, and now
Good Night t'ye Chickens, Calf and Cow,
Eggs, Bacon; all her busy care,
With them are dwindled into Air.
She looks with Sorrow on the Ground,
And Milk, in which her Fortune's drown'd:
Then carries home the doleful News,
And strives to make the best Excuse:
Her Husband greets her with a Curse,
And well it was she far'd no worse.
The Hermit, and the Man of Fame,
_Pompeus_, and our Country Dame,
The wisest Judge, and my Lord May'r,
They all build Castles in the Air:
And all a secret Pleasure take
In dreaming whilst they are awake:
Pleas'd with our Fancies we possess
Friends, Honour, Women, Palaces.
When I'm alone I dare defy
Mankind for Wit and Bravery.
I beat the _French_ in half an Hour,
Get all their Cities in my Power.
Sometimes I'm pleas'd to be a King,
That has success in every thing,
And just when all the World's my own,
Comes one to dun me for a Crown;
And presently I am the poor,
And idle Dunce I was before.
_The Cock, the Cat, and the young Mouse._
A Mouse of no Experience
Was almost nabb'd for want of Sence.
Hear how the silly young one told
Her strange Adventure to the old.
I cross'd the Limits of our State,
And ran as swift as any Rat;
When suddenly I spy'd two Creatures
Of very different Form and Features.
The one look'd smiling, milde, and Civil,
The other was a very Devil;
He look'd so fierce, made such a rout,
Then tore the Ground, then turn'd about;
He ne'er stood still, upon his Head
He wore a piece of Flesh that's red;
A bunch of Tails with green and black
Stood staring higher than his back.
And thus describes the simple Mouse
A Cock he had seen behind the House,
As had it been some Beast of Prey
Brought over from _America_.
With insolence, says he, he strides,
And beats with his broad Arms his sides;
Then lifts his shrill and frightful Voice,
And made so terrible a Noise,
That tho' I can assure you, Mother,
I've as much Courage as another,
I trembled, and as I am here,
Was forc'd to fly away for fear.
I curs'd the Bully in my thought;
For 'twas that strutting Ruffi'n's Fault;
Or else that other Beast and I
Had been acquainted presently.
He sat so quiet with such Grace,
So much good Nature in his Face,
He's furr'd like we, and on his Back
So purely streak'd with gray and black;
He has a long Tail, shining Eye,
Yet is all over Modesty.
I believe he is a near Relation
To our Allies the Rattish Nation:
His Ears and Whiskers are the same
With ours, I would have ask'd his Name,
When with his harsh and horrid sound
The other made me quit my Ground.
Replies the Mother, well 'scap'd Son,
You have been very near undone;
That formal Piece of Modesty,
That Mirror of Hypocrisy,
Was a damn'd Cat of wicked Fame;
My Heart akes at the very Name,
The everlasting Foe to Mouse,
Death and Destruction to our House.
Whereas that other Animal
Ne'er did us hurt, nor never will;
But may, when he is dead and gone,
Serve us one Day to dine upon.
Then prithee son, whate'er you do,
Take special Care of him, whom you
For such an humble Creature took,
And judge not People by their Look.
_The Cock and Pearl._