Fables of John Gay (Somewhat Altered)

Excerpt

DEDICATION.

Si doulce la Margarite.

When I first saw you—never mind the year—you could speak no English, and when next I saw you, after a lapse of two years, you would prattle no French; when again we met, you were the nymph with bright and flowing hair, which frightened his Highness Prince James out of his feline senses, when, as you came in by the door, he made his bolt by the window. It was then that you entreated me, with "most petitionary vehemence," to write you a book—a big book—thick, and all for yourself—

"Apollo heard, and granting half the prayer,
Shuffled to winds the rest and tossed in air."

I have not written the book, nor is it thick: but I have printed you a book, and it is thin. And I take the occasion to note that old Geoffry Chaucer, our father poet, must have had you in his mind's eye, by prescience or precognition, or he could hardly else have written two poems, one on the daisy and one on the rose. They are poems too long for modern days, nor are we equal in patience to our fore-fathers, who read 'The Faërie Queen,' 'Gondibert,' and the 'Polyolbion,' annually, as they cheeringly averred, through and out. Photography, steam, and electricity make us otherwise, and Patience has fled to the spheres; therefore, if feasible, shall "brevity be the soul of wit," and we will eschew "tediousness and outward flourishes" in compressing 'The Flower and the Leaf' into little:—

A maidenin greenwood in month of sweet May,
Arose and awoke at the dawn of the day:
As she wended along,
She heard fairie song—
"Si doulce est la Margarite."
There the Ladye the Flower and Ladye the Leaf,
With knights and squires of fairie chief,
Were met upon mead,
For devoir and deed—
Homage unto"La doulce Margarite."
There the ladye in white and the ladye in green
Sat on their thrones by the Fairie Queen,
Whilst knights did their duty,
And bowed down to beauty—
"Si doulce est la Margarite,"—
When the skies grew hot and the ladies pale,
And the storm descended in lightning and hail,
As they danced and sung,
And the burden rung—
"Sous la feuille, sous la feuille, meet."
Our Ladye of Leaf asked her of the Flower
And fairie Nymphs to shelter in bower:
And they danced and sung,
And the refrain rung—
"Si doulce est la Margarite."
All woe begone shivered the Ladye Flower,
The Ladye Leaf glittered in gems from the shower:
As they danced and sung,
And the refrain rung—
"Si doulce est la Margarite."
And knights and squires then wended forth,
East and west, and south, and north:
To free forests and shores
From giants and boars,
And shelter in night and in storm;
And every knight borein chiefon his shield
Thefoyle en verteon anargentfield:
And they rode and they sung
The huge oaks among:—
"Sous la feuille, sous la feuille, dorme."
The maiden then asked of the Fairie Queen
To tell her the moral of what she had seen:
Who answered and sung
In her fairie tongue—
"Si doulce est la Margarite."
The knight that is wise will lead from bower
The lasting Leaf—not the fading Flower:
And when storms arise
To turmoil life's skies—
"Sous la feuille, sous la feuille, meet."

Romaunt of the Rose.

Withinmy twentie yeares of age,
When Love asserteth most his courage,
I dreamed a dream, now fain to tell—
A dream that pleased me wondrous well.
Now this dream will I rime aright,
To make your heartes gaye and light;
For Love desireth it—also
Commandeth me that it be so.
It is the Romaunt of the Rose,
And tale of love I must disclose.
Fair is the matter for to make,
But fairer—if she will to take
For whom the romaunt is begonne
For that I wis she is the fair one
Of mokle prise; and therefore she
So worthier is beloved to be;
And well she ought of prise and right
Be clepened Rose of every wight.
But it was May, thus dreamed me,—
A time of love and jollitie:
A time there is no husks or straw,
But new grene leaves on everie shaw;
The woods were grene, the earth was proud,
Beastès and birdès snug aloud;
And earth her poore estate forgote,
In which the winter her had fraught.
Ah! ben in May the sunne is bright,
And everie thing does take delight:
The nightingale then singeth blithe;
Then is blissful many a scithe;
The goldfinch and the popinjay,
They then have many things to say.
Hard is his heart that loveth nought
In May, when all such love is wrought.
Right from my bed full readilie,
That it was by the morrow earlie;
And up I rose, and gan me clothe
Anon I with my handès bothe:
A silver needle forth I drew
Out of an aguiler quainte inew,
And gan this needle threade anone,
For out of town me list to gone,
Jollife and gaye, full of gladnesse,
Towards a river gan I me dresse,
For from a hill that stood there neere
Came down the stream of that rivere—
My face, I wis, there saw I wele,
The bottom ypaved everie dele
With gravel, which was shining shene,
In meadows soft and soote and greene.
And full attempre out of drede
Then gan I walken throw the mede
Downward ever in my playing
As the river's waters straying;
And when I had awhile igone
I saw a garden right anone,
Of walls with many portraitures,
And bothe of images and peintures—
But you may read it as it flows
In Chaucer'sRomaunt of the Rose.
Nowgo, my booke, and be courageous,
For now I send you forthe into the worlde.
And though ye may find some outrageous,
And in a pette be in some cornere hurl'd;
Yet you by little fingeres will be greasèd
And known hereafter by the marke of thumbe;
At which, my little booke, be ye well pleasèd,
For booke, like mouthe, unopenèd is dumbe.
And there be some, perchance, will bidde you off
To Conventrè, or Yorke, or Jericho;
But be not you, my booke, abashed by scoff,
For I will teach you where you boun to go,—
Which is in Gloucestershire, there unto Bisley,
Where the church spire is spièd long afarre;
It is not either uncouth, square, or grisly,
But soareth high, as if to catch a starre;
Where shall the brother of theChristian Yeare,
Keble, hereafter tend the seven springs,
Above whose fountains dothThe Grove uproar,
Like to Mount Helicon, where Clio sings,
Where rookès build, and peacocke spreadeth tail.
And there the wood-pigeon doth sobbe Coo coo;
Neither do sparrow, merle or mavis fail,
And there the owl at midnight singeth Whoo.
And where there are aLaurel and a Rose,
Beneath whose branches wide a broode doth haunt;
The whom high walls and fretted gates enclose,
Where goode may enter, badde are bidde avaunt.
And there is one yclepenMargarete,
Who alsoe for the nonce is clepen Rose,
For she must on some other hille be sette
When Hymenæos shall her lotte dispose.
And, little booke, it is to her you runne.
And sisters eight, for they, in soothe, are nine;
And in their bowere baske as in the suunne,
And beareMaid Marion'slove toCatherine,
Who is her gossipe, and she is her pette;
And nought mote save us from a wrath condign,
If you, my booke, should haplessly forgette,
Nor bended knees, I trow, nor teares ofMargarete.

CONTENTS.

PAGEDedicationIntroductionLion, Tiger, and TravellerSpaniel and ChameleonMother, Nurse, and FairyJove's Eagle, and Murmuring BeastsWild Boar and RamMiser and PlutusLion, Fox, and GanderLady and WaspBull and MastiffElephant and BooksellerTurkey, Peacock, and GooseCupid, Hymen, and PlutusThe Tamed FawnMonkey who had seen the WorldPhilosopher and PheasantPin and NeedleShepherd's Dog and WolfThe Unsatisfactory PainterLion and CubOld Hen and Young CockRatcatcher and CatsGoat without a BeardOld Woman and her CatsButterfly and SnailScold and ParrotCur and MastiffSick Man and the AngelPersian, Sun, and CloudFox at the point of DeathSetting Dog and PartridgeUniversal ApparitionOwls and SparrowCourtier and ProteusMastiffBarley Mow and DunghillPythagoras and CountrymanFarmer's Dame and RavenTurkey and AntFather and JupiterTwo MonkeysOwl and FarmerJuggler and ViceCouncil of HorsesHound and HuntsmanPoet and the RoseCur, Horse, and Shepherd's DogCourt of DeathFlorist and PigMan and FleaHare and many FriendsDog and FoxVulture, Sparrow, and BirdsApe and PoultryAnt in OfficeBear in a BoatSquire and CurCountryman and JupiterMan, Cat, Dog, and FlyJackall, Leopard, and BeastsDegenerate BeesPackhorse and CarrierPan and FortunePlutus, Cupid, and TimeOwl, Swan, Cock, Spider, Ass, and FarmerCookmaid, Turnspit, and OxRaven, Sexton, and EarthwormTown Mouse and Country MouseMagpie and BroodThe Three WarningsPostscript

INTRODUCTION.

Remotefrom cities dwelt a swain,
Unvexed by petty cares of gain;
His head was silvered, and by age
He had contented grown and sage;
In summer's heat and winter's cold
He fed his flock and penned his fold,
Devoid of envy or ambition,
So had he won a proud position.
A deep philosopher, whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools,
With wonder sought this shepherd's nest,
And his perplexity expressed:
"Whence is thy wisdom? Hath thy toil
O'er books consumed the midnight oil,
Communed o'er Greek and Roman pages,
With Plato, Socrates—those sages—
Or fathomed Tully,—or hast travelled
With wise Ulysses, and unravelled
Of customs half a mundane sphere?"
The shepherd answered him: "I ne'er
From books or from mankind sought learning,
For both will cheat the most discerning;
The more perplexed the more they view
In the wide fields of false and true.
"I draw from Nature all I know—
To virtue friend, to vice a foe.
The ceaseless labour of the bee
Prompted my soul to industry;
The wise provision of the ant
Made me for winter provident;
My trusty dog there showed the way,
And to be true I copy Tray.
Then for domestic hallowed love,
I learnt it of the cooing dove;
And love paternal followed, when
I marked devotion in the hen.
"Nature then prompted me to school
My tongue from scorn and ridicule,
And never with important mien
In conversation to o'erween.
I learnt some lessons from the fowls:
To shun solemnity, from owls;
Another lesson from the pie,—
Pert and pretentious, and as sly;
And to detest man's raids and mulctures,
From eagles, kites, goshawks, and vultures;
But most of all abhorrence take
From the base toad or viler snake,
With filthy venom in the bite,
Of envies, jealousies, and spite.
Thus from Dame Nature and Creation
Have I deduced my observation;
Nor found I ever thing so mean,
That gave no moral thence to glean."
Then the philosopher replied:
"Thy fame, re-echoed far and wide,
Is just and true: for books misguide,—
As full, as man himself, of pride;
But Nature, rightly studied, leads
To noble thoughts and worthy deeds."

HIS HIGHNESS WILLIAM DUKE OF CUMBERLAND.

Accept, my Prince, the moral fable,
To youth ingenuous, profitable.
Nobility, like beauty's youth,
May seldom hear the voice of truth;
Or mark and learn the fact betimes
That flattery is the nurse of crimes.
Friendship, which seldom nears a throne,
Is by her voice of censure known.
To one in your exalted station
A courtier is a dedication;
But I dare not to dedicate
My verse e'en unto royal state.
My muse is sacred, and must teach
Truths which they slur in courtly speech.
But I need not to hide the praise,
Or veil the thoughts, a nation pays;
We in your youth and virtues trace
The dawnings of your royal race;
Discern the promptings of your breast,
Discern you succour the distrest,
Discern your strivings to attain
The heights above the lowly plain....