FABLES.

PART II.

4

ADVERTISEMENT.

THESE Fables were finished by Mr. GAY, and intended for the press a short time before his death; when they were left, with his other papers, to the care of his noble friend and patron the Duke of Queensberry; who permitted them to be printed from the originals in the Author's own handwriting.

FABLES.

PART II.

THE DOG AND THE FOX.

TO A LAWYER.

I KNOW you Lawyers can, with ease,
Twist words and meanings as you please;
That language, by your skill made pliant,
Will bend to favor every client;
That 'tis the fee directs the sense,
To make out either side's pretence.
When you peruse the clearest case,
You see it with a double face:
For scepticism is your profession;
You hold there's doubt in all expression.
Hence is the bar with fees supplied,
Hence eloquence takes either side.
Your hand would have but paltry gleaning,
Could every man express his meaning.
Who dares presume to pen a deed,
Unless you previously are fee'd?
"Tis drawn; and, to augment the cost,
In dull prolixity engrost.

And now we're well secur'd by law,
Till the next brother find a flaw.

Read o'er a will. Was 't ever known But

you could make the will your own? For when you read, 'tis with intent To find out meanings never meant. Since things are thus, se defendendo, I bar fallacious innuendo.

Sagacious Porta's skill could trace Some beast or bird in every face. The head, the eye, the nose's shape, Prov'd this an owl, and that an ape; When, in the sketches thus design'd, Resemblance brings some friend to mind, You show the piece, and give the hint, And find each feature in the print; So monstrous-like the portrait's found, All know it, and the laugh goes round. Like him I draw from general nature; Is 't I or you, then, fix the satire ?—

So, Sir, I beg you spare your pains
In making comments on my strains.
All private slander I detest,

I judge not of my neighbour's breast:
Party and prejudice I hate,

And write no libels on the state.

Shall not my Fable censure vice,

Because a knave is over nice?

And, lest the guilty hear and dread,
Shall not the decalogue be read?

If I lash vice in general fiction,
Is 't I apply, or self-conviction?

Brutes are my theme: am I to blame,
If men in morals are the same?
I no man call or ape or ass;

'Tis his own conscience holds the glass.
Thus void of all offence I write :

Who claims the fable knows his right.
A shepherd's Dog, unskill'd in sports,
Pick'd up acquaintance of all sorts;
Among the rest a Fox he knew;
By frequent chat their friendship grew.
Says Reynard, 'Tis a cruel case,
That man should stigmatize our race.
No doubt, among us rogues you find,
As among dogs and human kind;
And yet (unknown to me and you)
There may be honest men and true.
Thus slander tries whate'er it can
To put us on the foot with man.
Let my own actions recommend ;
No prejudice can blind a friend;
You know me free from all disguise;
My honour as my life I prize.'

By talk like this, from all mistrust
The Dog was cur'd, and thought him just.
As on a time the Fox held forth
On conscience, honesty, and worth,
Sudden he stopp'd; he cock'd his ear;
Low dropt his brushy tail with fear.