The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase Part 23

I grant, my bargains well were made, But all men over-reach in trade; _10

'Tis self-defence in each profession, Sure self-defence is no transgression.

The little portion in my hands, By good security on lands, Is well increased. If unawares, My justice to myself and heirs, Hath let my debtor rot in jail, For want of good sufficient bail; If I by writ, or bond, or deed, Reduced a family to need, _20 My will hath made the world amends; My hope on charity depends.

When I am numbered with the dead, And all my pious gifts are read, By heaven and earth 'twill then be known My charities were amply shown'

An angel came. 'Ah, friend!' he cried, 'No more in flattering hope confide.

Can thy good deeds in former times Outweigh the balance of thy crimes?

_30 What widow or what orphan prays To crown thy life with length of days?

A pious action's in thy power, Embrace with joy the happy hour.

Now, while you draw the vital air, Prove your intention is sincere.

This instant give a hundred pound; Your neighbours want, and you abound.'

'But why such haste?' the sick man whines; 'Who knows as yet what Heaven designs?

_40 Perhaps I may recover still; That sum and more are in my will?

'Fool,' says the vision, 'now 'tis plain, Your life, your soul, your heaven was gain, From every side, with all your might, You sc.r.a.ped, and sc.r.a.ped beyond your right; And after death would fain atone, By giving what is not your own.'

'While there is life, there's hope,' he cried; 'Then why such haste?' so groaned and died.

_50

FABLE XXVIII.

THE PERSIAN, THE SUN, AND THE CLOUD.

Is there a bard whom genius fires, Whose every thought the G.o.d inspires?

When Envy reads the nervous lines, She frets, she rails, she raves, she pines; Her hissing snakes with venom swell; She calls her venal train from h.e.l.l: The servile fiends her nod obey, And all Curl's[4] authors are in pay, Fame calls up calumny and spite.

Thus shadow owes its birth to light.

_10 As prostrate to the G.o.d of day, With heart devout, a Persian lay, His invocation thus begun: 'Parent of light, all-seeing Sun, Prolific beam, whose rays dispense The various gifts of providence, Accept our praise, our daily prayer, Smile on our fields, and bless the year.'

A cloud, who mocked his grateful tongue, The day with sudden darkness hung; _20 With pride and envy swelled, aloud A voice thus thundered from the cloud: 'Weak is this gaudy G.o.d of thine, Whom I at will forbid to s.h.i.+ne.

Shall I nor vows, nor incense know?

Where praise is due, the praise bestow.'

With fervent zeal the Persian moved, Thus the proud calumny reproved: 'It was that G.o.d, who claims my prayer, Who gave thee birth, and raised thee there; _30 When o'er his beams the veil is thrown, Thy substance is but plainer shown.

A pa.s.sing gale, a puff of wind Dispels thy thickest troops combined.'

The gale arose; the vapour toss'd (The sport of winds) in air was lost; The glorious...o...b..the day refines.

Thus envy breaks, thus merit s.h.i.+nes.

FABLE XXIX.

THE FOX AT THE POINT OF DEATH.

A fox, in life's extreme decay, Weak, sick, and faint, expiring lay; All appet.i.te had left his maw, And age disarmed his mumbling jaw.

His numerous race around him stand To learn their dying sire's command: He raised his head with whining moan, And thus was heard the feeble tone: 'Ah, sons! from evil ways depart: My crimes lie heavy on my heart.

_10 See, see, the murdered geese appear!

Why are those bleeding turkeys here?

Why all around this cackling train, Who haunt my ears for chicken slain?

The hungry foxes round them stared, And for the promised feast prepared.

'Where, sir, is all this dainty cheer?

Nor turkey, goose, nor hen is here.

These are the phantoms of your brain, And your sons lick their lips in vain.'

_20 'O gluttons!' says the drooping sire, 'Restrain inordinate desire.

Your liqu'rish taste you shall deplore, When peace of conscience is no more.

Does not the hound betray our pace, And gins and guns destroy our race?

Thieves dread the searching eye of power, And never feel the quiet hour.

Old age (which few of us shall know) Now puts a period to my woe.

_30 Would you true happiness attain, Let honesty your pa.s.sions rein; So live in credit and esteem, And the good name you lost, redeem.'

'The counsel's good,' a fox replies, 'Could we perform what you advise.

Think what our ancestors have done; A line of thieves from son to son: To us descends the long disgrace, And infamy hath marked our race.

_40 Though we, like harmless sheep, should feed, Honest in thought, in word, and deed; Whatever henroost is decreased, We shall be thought to share the feast.

The change shall never be believed, A lost good name is ne'er retrieved.'

'Nay, then,' replies the feeble fox, '(But hark! I hear a hen that clocks) Go, but be moderate in your food; A chicken too might do me good.'

FABLE x.x.x.

THE SETTING-DOG AND THE PARTRIDGE.

The ranging dog the stubble tries, And searches every breeze that flies; The scent grows warm; with cautious fear He creeps, and points the covey near; The men, in silence, far behind, Conscious of game, the net unbind.

A partridge, with experience wise, The fraudful preparation spies: She mocks their toils, alarms her brood; The covey springs, and seeks the wood; _10 But ere her certain wing she tries, Thus to the creeping spaniel cries: 'Thou fawning slave to man's deceit, Thou pimp of luxury, sneaking cheat, Of thy whole species thou disgrace, Dogs shall disown thee of their race!

For if I judge their native parts, They're born with open, honest hearts; And, ere they serve man's wicked ends, Were generous foes, or real friends.'

_20 When thus the dog, with scornful smile: 'Secure of wing, thou dar'st revile.

Clowns are to polished manners blind, How ignorant is the rustic mind!

My worth, sagacious courtiers see, And to preferment rise, like me.

The thriving pimp, who beauty sets, Hath oft enhanced a nation's debts: Friend sets his friend, without regard; And ministers his skill reward: _30 Thus trained by man, I learnt his ways, And growing favour feasts my days.'

'I might have guessed,' the partridge said, 'The place where you were trained and fed; Servants are apt, and in a trice Ape to a hair their master's vice.

You came from court, you say. Adieu,'

She said, and to the covey flew.

FABLE x.x.xI.

THE UNIVERSAL APPARITION.

A rake, by every pa.s.sion ruled, With every vice his youth had cooled; Disease his tainted blood a.s.sails; His spirits droop, his vigour fails; With secret ills at home he pines, And, like infirm old age, declines.

As, twinged with pain, he pensive sits, And raves, and prays, and swears by fits, A ghastly phantom, lean and wan, Before him rose, and thus began: _10 'My name, perhaps, hath reached your ear; Attend, and be advised by Care.

Nor love, nor honour, wealth, nor power, Can give the heart a cheerful hour, When health is lost. Be timely wise: With health all taste of pleasure flies.'

Thus said, the phantom disappears.

The wary counsel waked his fears: He now from all excess abstains, With physic purifies his veins; _20 And, to procure a sober life, Resolves to venture on a wife.

But now again the sprite ascends, Where'er he walks his ear attends; Insinuates that beauty's frail, That perseverance must prevail; With jealousies his brain inflames, And whispers all her lovers' names.

In other hours she represents His household charge, his annual rents, _30 Increasing debts, perplexing duns, And nothing for his younger sons.

Straight all his thought to gain he turns, And with the thirst of lucre burns.

But when possessed of fortune's store, The spectre haunts him more and more; Sets want and misery in view, Bold thieves, and all the murd'ring crew, Alarms him with eternal frights, Infests his dream, or wakes his nights.

_40 How shall he chase this hideous guest?

Power may perhaps protect his rest.