AESOP AT AMSTERDAM.
FAB. I. The Summons.
THE mighty Puss, not long since rul'd the State,
Beneath a lonesom Furzbush purring sat;
Stroak'd her long Smellers, and rejoic'd to see
Her awful Picture in her Progeny:
Mean while her Kitlings dance before her face,
And toss, like trembling Mice, the Roots of Grass.
Not one amongst 'em but a Claw dos wear,
Fit a Monarchic Tyrant Rat to tear.
The Good old Cause inform'd the Mother's Breast,
Darts through their Eyes, is by their mein exprest.
Such, such the antient Race of Heroes were,
Who did their Rights before their Lives prefer.
She calls one to her, of the eldest brood;
Dost know, said she, how drown'd in native Blood
My Country lies? how the wild Boars invade
The Land, and desart have my Country laid?
'Tis true, I once did ease 'em of their Pain;
But they, like Fools, embrac'd again the Chain;
Wear those dull Fetters I so kindly broke,
And halt, like Slaves, beneath the servile Yoke.
Once more I'll try, if my Advice may prove
Successful, once exert my antient Love;
Summon the Slaves to meet at Whitehal Gate,
Beneath the Scaffold where I whilom sate,
And punish'd Tyranny, the worst of Crimes;
A just Example unto future Times.
Young Puss the Message takes, and bids fair Warning
To all the Slaves t'appear on the next morning.
FAB. II. The Interview.
THE Morning come, the Slaves await,
And flock like Bees 'bout Whitehal Gate.
Some yoak'd, like Country Hogs appear;
Others confounded Fetters wear,
And some most horrid Burdens bear.
Thus loaded, thus enslav'd, opprest;
Nature, 'tis strange, don't call for rest:
Tho Legs are gall'd, and Shoulders sore,
The bulky Slaves still crave for more:
And not an Ideot of the Town
Has sense to lay his Burden down.
Strait Puss in Majesty appears,
Mounting the Scaffold, pricks her Ears,
Shakes her Majestick Head, aloud
She thus bespoke the num'rous Crowd.
I have deserted long the nauseous Town,
Mourning my Country's Ruin, and my own
Expos'd to Tyranny, whilst Beasts of prey
Ravage my Fields, and steal my Lambs away.
My Free-born Subjects now are forc'd to bear
Loads, which more fit for backs of Camels are;
You well deserve the Fetters you do wear.
You under heavy iron Shackles pine,
Whose Fathers did in glorious Armor shine,
Thro' fields of Blood to Freedom cut their way,
And taught the proudest Tyrants to obey;
By me supported, potent Tyrants fell
A Sacrifice to their just Cause and Hell;
No more, no more their sacred Lineage stain,
No more their names in your curst Race profane.
Let not their Off-spring such Alliance have,
Shackles were ne're the Trophies of the Brave;
They could wide Conquests, and just Honors boast,
But you, dull Slaves! have all your Freedom lost.
Where 'ere a Tyrant rais'd his impious Head,
Strait their bold Hands strook the damn'd Monster dead.
Had you a spark of antient Honor left,
You should not long be of my Aid bereft;
My Claws are hard and sharp as e're they were,
As fit a Tyrant and his Rats to tear.
The Villains that support a Tyrant Crown,
This angry Tail will horridly sweep down;
Shake off your Fetters once, and you shall see,
I'll once more save you from curst Slavery.
She said, and away she gallop'd amain,
But in hopes they their Sense would recover again;
For a Doctor will never the Fatigue endure,
To heal such dull Blockheads, that don't love the Cure.
FAB. III. The Frogs Concern.
A Generous Race of croaking Frogs,
Which lay entrench't betwixt two Bogs,
Who as the morning Sun did shine,
Daily encreast their stock divine;
Just as the Solar Influence burn'd,
Prolifick spawn to Life was turn'd,
Until the young ones had at length
An equal Vigor, equal Strength.
So numerous at length they prove,
They supplicate to mighty Jove;
A King and Governor they crave,
As other Beasts and Insects have:
But Jove allow'd all Mortal Elves,
To chuse a Monarch for themselves.
The Croaking Elders now consult
About a King, and the Result
Was, that a neighb'ring Log should be
Executor of Monarchy.
About the Log their Heads they raise,
In sounds uncouth they croak his Praise:
At length some crawl upon his Top,
And frisk about, and croak and hop:
Says one Frog, Here's fine business done,
Was e're a King thus trampl'd one?
'Troth, says another antient Frog,
We'll ne'r be govern'd by a Log;
The heat at length so far arose,
They did the Loggerhead depose.
To new Election they proceed,
And to their Hearts content succeed;
A neighbouring Stork at length they chose,
Which shou'd their Heats and Feuds compose:
He took upon him the Command
Of all the People in Frogland;
But he as t'other 'fore had done,
Made it an Arbitrary Throne;
Up from the Mud the Frogs would pick,
And squeeze their Corps within his Beak.
One Frog much wiser than the rest,
To those about him thus addrest:
Good Friends, this is confounded work;
Shall we be govern'd by a Stork;
To have our Bones in pieces torn,
Our young ones eat just as they'r born?
As if Kings only had a Power
To ruin Subjects and devour;
I think 'tis just to chuse agen:
The brood of Frogs all croak'd, Amen.
The next they chose was a dull Ass,
Which prov'd as bad as t'other was;
For tho he was not so malicious,
His folly made him as pernicious;
Stumbling on Empire, oft he stood
Upon his Subjects choak't in Mud:
Whole beds of Spawn he did destroy,
At every flounce did Frogs annoy.
The Devil's in't, said one, for we
In chusing Kings still wretched be.
Thus often we have chose a King,
And still have found it the same thing.
FAB. IV. The Bees and the Hornet.
A Hive of Bees had plunder'd ev'ry Field,
And ev'ry Herb dos Wax or Hony yield:
Large Troops of winged force they daily arm,
Large as the Flocks that about Hybla swarm;
From distant Fields did ev'ry Evening come,
Loaden with Sweets and wholsom Hony home:
Blest with abundant Wealth the Swarm dos thrive
Beneath the Blessings of a well stock't Hive.
But Wealth and Luxury together go,
And Bees, when rich, do vain and wanton grow;
Pamper'd with Food, they loath their happy Fate,
And Changlings like, attempt to change their State.
Large Herds they saw, as they abroad did rove,
Govern'd by Monarchs, by the leave of Jove.
They Jupiter invoke, that also he
Would please to favour them with Monarchy.
Jove from Olympus nodding, gave consent,
And strait the Bees to an Election went.
An o'regrown Hornet in an Oaken-Tree,
Was what they chose, and must their Sov'raign be:
For Bulk and Valor was elected King,
The greatest Warrior ever drew a Sting.
His Paunch more Hony still did bear away
Then ten strong Bees could gather in a Day.
But what was worse, he often wou'd invite
His Family to dine, and sup at Night:
His num'rous Fav'rites did devour more,
Then his small Regions ever saw before;
His lazy Drones did more Provision spoil,
Than is the product of a Summers toil.
The Bees thus rob'd of all their Hony, grieve;
'Tis Winter too, they know not how to live.
Their Monarch goes to rob another Swarm,
And there remain till Summer's heat shall warm.
The Bees bereav'd of all their Nourishment,
Their Wax decay'd, and all their Hony spent;
Around their Hive their Obsequies they sing,
Lament their Fortune, and they curse their King.
FAB. V. The Lion and Fox.
A Youthful Lion in the Wood,
Of Bulk and Nature strong;
Still us'd to rav'ning and to blood,
And came to Empire young:
He too, as other Monarchs use,
New Methods did pursue:
His Father's Fav'rites did refuse,
And chose a set of new.
He having lov'd, and us'd to gore;
An arbitrary sway,
A base, a wild Despotick Pow'r
His Subjects must obey.
But want of Brains do still attend
Unlimited Command:
And therefore he would have some Friend
Might Business understand.
There was a cunning Fox liv'd near,
For many years had kill'd
The neighb'ring Lambs and Poultry there,
With Bones his Kennel fill'd.
He summon'd Reynard to appear,
Next Night, at Council Board.
Which Reynard did, and when was there,
Look'd grave as any Lord.
The Lion told him, he must be
The chief Support of State.
At which kind Reynard bow'd his Knee,
And wish'd him better Fate.
O, says the Lion, thou art skill'd
In Arbitrary Sway:
Thou many Beasts and Fowls hast kill'd,
To govern know'st the way.
Ask, and I'll give Thee any thing,
Is in my Pow'r to give:
Thou shalt be next unto the King
As long as I do live.
Quoth Reynard, make me then the Priest,
I'll make all Beasts your Slaves:
The Body You, I Soul at least,
We'll tyrannize by halves.
Thus Fate did Men to thraldom bring,
Opprest just like a Beast;
Rod, spur'd, and whip'd by such a King,
And eke so lewd a Priest.
FAB. VI. The Weesil, Rats and Mice.
A Mighty Weesil of Renown,
Well verst in things of State,
Was chosen King all o're the Town,
Of all the Mice and Rats.
His Coronation Day was come,
And all the Grandees meet
The Weesil in a gaudy Room,
And bow beneath his Feet.
His Chair of State was Rind of Cheese,
And o're his Royal Head
Some Bacon swerd in goodly guise,
Like Canopy was spread.
At length he walks and struts about,
Like any Lord or Duke;
Sometimes he do's one Subject flout,
And sometimes one rebuke.
He calls an aged Rat aside,
And ask'd him his advice,
Whether a Project mayn't be try'd
To eat up all the Mice.
Ay quoth the Rat, your Majesty
May be well satisfy'd,
Mice haters are of Monarchy,
And Regal State deride.
The Rats and Weesils now devour
The Mice in piteous sort,
They dye the Cellers with their Gore,
And with their Bones they sport.
At length the Mice are all destroy'd,
The Weesils and the Rats
Would other Food find out abroad,
But that they fear'd the Cats.
The Weesils now together plot,
How they the Rats may eat;
Provision must be daily got,
Kings must have sumptuous Meat.
The Rats now all do go to pot:
Some bak'd, some boil'd, some roasted;
'Tis hop'd they had not then forgot
How they the Mice accosted.
Thus some Men oft by Tyrant Power,
Their Kindred, Subject-Slaves devour,
Do all the Villanies are done
To prop a beastly Tyrant Throne;
Tho others Blood the Tyrant fill'd,
They must at length to's Fury yield;
Nought stops a Tyrants Course but Decollation,
Or else a modern Abdication.
FAB. VII. Lubberland.
A Land there is, as Maps do tell,
(Tho they describe it not right well)
Nor near the Hot nor Frigid Zone,
But Latitude of fifty one;
In Natures plenty do's abound,
With Fruits and Flocks is amply crown'd:
The Natives never are content
But with tyrannick Government;
They Men resemble by their Faces,
But by their Backs resemble Asses.
For each is born with a great pack,
A warlike Saddle on his Back,
Which do's adorn the parts are upper,
On nether parts they wear a Crupper.
Their Kings, as 'tis decreed by Jove,
Do always jump down from above:
Arm'd Cap-a-pee with Boots and Spurs,
Just fit to mount such servile Curs:
With Hunting-Whips they daily maul 'em,
And with long rowel'd Spurs do gall 'em.
He only is the great Bravado,
Has most the Regal Bastinado.
They leap and jump, and frisk and skip,
And sing the Praises of the Whip:
They bear the Lash without once bogging,
Extol the Royal Art of flogging.
With Blanket-Coat and wooden-Shoes,
The Man the Camel scarce outdoes.
Whilst Freemen feed on Dainties fine,
These do on Bread and Garlick dine;
And if they spend a Soulx in Wine,
The Health drank round must always be,
Their Kings applauded Tyranny:
Still let 'em be curs'd Slaves for me.
FAB. VIII. The Hawk and Birds.
I.
A Hawk, that of Yore,
Had long welter'd in Gore,
And many a Sparrow had kill'd;
By the Birds he was told,
Now he was grown old,
He his number of Sins had fulfill'd.
II.
No said the old Hawk,
My Actions to balk
If you shall but once thus combine,
The Gods will avenge,
My Cause will revenge,
I may murder ye Jure Divino.
III.
The Gods, said the Birds,
We'll not take their words;
If they've'gin you an Absolute Power,
They've'gin us a part,
Is not worth a Fart,
While you have a Right to devour.
IV.
The Birds all agreed,
And thus 'tvvas decreed,
That Slaves they no longer would be;
They throttl'd their King,
Then svveetly did sing
The Praises of free Liberty.
FAB. IX. The Owl and the Mice.
THE harmless Mice by Tyranny opprest,
And by the Owls vast insolence distrest,
Came to a consult, where they did debate
Of Means to save their yet declining State.
Up stands a Mouse of generous noble Blood,
Free from the Fears of the more slavish Brood;
Says he, my Project, Sirs I hope will take,
We'll tie a Bell about the Owls damn'd Neck:
Thus when the Tyrants Bell do's ever toll
Each Mouse secures himself within his hole.
At which a Mouse for Courage fam'd, arose,
And did as follows to the rest propose.
Brethren, says he, this enterprize is vain,
There is no end of this Tyrannick Reign,
As long as Owl, or any of his kind,
Shall here Dominion and an Empire find:
You may hang Bells about his Neck, but then
He pecks it off, and turns an Owl agen.
Lets try for once, since our Condition's so,
What bold Micean Potentates can do.
The only way to guard our Empire well,
Is both to rid our selves of Owl and Bell.
Thus we our State and Freedom shall repair,
And live as free as our Fore-fathers were.
FAB. X. Neptune and the Fishes.
NEptune the God of the Tempestuous Deep,
When's Brother Boreas hush't the Storms asleep;
Upon a Rock erected had his Throne,
His Chair of State was carv'd out of the Stone;
On either hand the lovely Mermaids sate,
The glittering Pageants of the Monarchs State;
The golden Tresses which their Heads adorn,
Dy'd with the yellow glittering of the Mo [...]n.
He shook his Trident, when both far and near
His Guard du Corps of Tritons shook for fear;
One he commanded strait to go and tell,
All Clans of Fish beneath the Surface dvvell,
That to his Court they presently repair,
Away the Triton flounc'd as swift as Air,
The scaly Tribe's in endless numbers flock
And rendevouz before the Royal Rock;
Neptune in State unto the brink did go,
And vievv'd the num'rous Shoals of Fish below:
Then pointing to the Mermaids, thus he said,
"See there the lovely work the Gods have made,
"By them and Nature destin'd for my own,
"The just Supporters of my vertuous Throne.
"My Pleasure is, that every sort of Fish,
"For them do every Day provide a Dish,
"The best and wholesom'st Fish of every sort,
"And bring them every Day unto the Court.
Each Fish beneath the Surface dovvnvvard darts,
But glide along with very heavy Hearts;
In vain says one the heav'nly Sun do's burn,
Warm the vast Deep, and Spawn to Fishes turn:
The Gods its seems thus Neptune has empovver'd
And we are born only to be devour'd;
Our Off-spring still must pay their Parents Scores
Made for a Tyrants Food, and Bawds &'s Whores
When vast lascivious Paunches spend always,
More than the num'rous Shoals of Fish can raise
No more said he, by my consent, we'll own
A Tyrants Empire, but abjure his Throne;
The watry Tribes the motion did approve,
And to his Station every one did move.
FAB. XI. The Asylum.
THE Princes once did all combine,
The Peoples Liberty to mine;
VVould make 'em right or wrong obey
An absolute Despotick Svvay,
One Method, was to make us poor,
By loading Taxes more and more;
For when to Poverty Men fall,
They easily are brought to thrall:
And when their Spirit's sunk and gone,
Tyrants may lay vast Burthens on.
This did in some, in all it cou'd
Not do: Some Men had better Blood,
And tho' they could not mend their Fate
They murmur'd at the Tyrants hate;
VVhich so incens'd the Tyrants Ire,
Some they condemn'd to rav'nous fire;
Some were to slavish Gallies sent,
Others in Fetters did lament.
Some Men were strangl'd in their Beds,
Others were hang'd, some lost their Heads;
Some whipt till bleeding Backs were kill'd,
The Lands with Tyranny were fill'd,
But those whom better luck and hap
Did favour with a wish'd escape,
A City on Batavian Shoar,
Did shelter from the Ills before;
VVhere native Liberty do's thrive,
And no curst Tyranny can live.
Long live great City, Favourite of Heav'n,
And never want those Blessings thou hast giv'n.
FINIS.