For which the clerk his father was disgrac'd,
And in his benefice another plac'd.

Now fing, my lord, if not for love of me,
Yet for the fake of fweet faint charity;

Make hills and dales, and earth and heaven rejoice,
And emulate your father's angel voice.

The cock was pleas'd to hear him speak so fair,

And proud befide, as folar people are ;

Nor could the treafon from the truth defcry,

So was he ravifh'd with this flattery:

So much the more, as, from a little eff,
He had a high opinion of himself;

Though fickly, flender, and not large of limb,
Concluding all the world was made for him.
Ye princes rais'd by poets to the Gods,
And Alexander'd up in lying odes,
Believe not every flattering knave's report,
There's many a Reynard lurking in the court;
And he shall be receiv'd with more regard
And liften'd to, than modeft truth is heard.
This Chanticleer, of whom the ftory fings,

Stood high upon his toes, and clapp'd his wings;
Then ftretch'd his neck, and wink'd with both his eyes,
Ambitious, as he fought th' Olympic prize.

But, while he pain'd himself to raise his note,

False Reynard rufh'd, and caught him by the throat.
Then on his back he laid the precious load,
And fought his wonted fhelter of the wood ;
Swiftly he made his way, the mischief done,
Of all unheeded, and purfued by none.
VOL. III.

M

Alas,

Alas, what ftay is there in human state,
Or who can fhun inevitable fate?

The doom was written, the decree was paft,
Ere the foundations of the world were caft!
In Aries though the fun exalted stood,
His patron-planet to procure his good;
Yet Saturn was his mortal foe, and he,
In Libra rais'd, oppos'd the fame degree :
The rays both good and bad, of equal power,
Each thwarting other made a mingled hour.

On Friday morn he dreamt this direful dream,
Crofs to the worthy native, in his scheme!
Ah blissful Venus, Goddefs of delight,
How could't thou fuffer thy devoted knight,
On thy own day to fall by foe oppress'd,
The wight of all the world who ferv'd thee beft?
Who, true to love, was all for recreation,
And minded not the work of propagation.
Gaufride, who could'st fo well in rhyme complain
The death of Richard with an arrow flain,
Why had not I thy Mufe, or thou my heart,
To fing this heavy dirge with equal art!
That I like thee on Friday might complain;
For on that day was Coeur de Lion flain.

Not louder cries, when Ilium was in flames,
Were fent to heaven by woful Trojan dames,
When Pyrrhus tofs'd on high his burnish'd blade,
And offer'd Priam to his father's fhade,

Than for the cock the widow'd poultry made.

}

Fair Partlet first, when he was borne from fight,
With fovereign fhrieks bewail'd her captive knight:
Far louder than the Carthaginian wife,

When Afdrubal her husband loft his life,
When the beheld the mouldering flames afcend,
And all the Punic glories at an end :
Willing into the fires fhe plung'd her head,
With greater cafe than others feek their bed.
Not more aghaft the matrons of renown,
When tyrant Nero burn'd th' imperial town,
Shriek'd for the downfal in a doleful cry,

For which their guiltlefs lords were doom'd to die.
Now to my story I return again :

The trembling widow, and her daughters twain,
This woful cackling cry with horror heard,
Of those distracted damfels in the yard;
And starting up beheld the heavy fight,
How Reynard to the foreft took his flight,
And cross his back, as in triumphant fcorn,
The hope and pillar of the house was borne.

The fox, the wicked fox, was all the cry;
Out from his houfe ran every neighbour nigh:
The vicar firft, and after him the crew

With forks and ftaves, the felon to purfuc.
Ran Coll our dog, and Talbot with the band,.
And Malkin, with her diftaff in her hand;
Ran cow and calf, and family of hogs,.
In panic horror of purfuing dogs;.

With many a deadly grunt and doleful fqueak,-
Poor fwine, as if their pretty hearts would break.

The fhouts of men, the women in difmay,
With fhrieks augment the terror of the day.
The ducks that heard the proclamation cry'd,
And fear'd a perfecution might betide,
Full twenty mile from town their voyage take,
Obfcure in rushes of the liquid lake.

The geefe fly o'er the barn; the bees in arms
Drive headlong from their waxen cells in fwarms.
Jack Straw at London-ftone, with all his rout,
Struck not the city with fo loud a shout;
Not when with English hate they did pursue
A Frenchman, or an unbelieving Jew:
Not when the welkin rung with one and all;
And echoes bounded back from Fox's hall:

Earth feem'd to fink beneath, and heaven above to fall.
With might and main they chac'd the murderous fox,
With brazen trumpets, and inflated box,
To kindle Mars with military founds,

Nor wanted horns t' infpire fagacious hounds.
But fee how Fortune can confound the wife,
And, when they least expect it, turn the dice.
The captive-cock, who fcarce could draw his breath,
And lay within the very jaws of death;

Yet in this agony his fancy wrought,

And fear fupply'd him with this happy thought:
Your's is the prize, victorious prince, faid he,
The vicar my defeat, and all the village fee.
Enjoy your friendly fortune while you may,
And bid the churls that envy you the prey

Call

Call back their mungril curs, and cease their cry,
See, fools, the shelter of the wood is nigh,
And Chanticleer in your despite shall die,
He fhall be pluck'd and eaten to the bone.

}

'Tis well advis'd, in faith it fhall be done;
This Reynard faid: but, as the word he spoke,
The prifoner with a fpring from prison broke :
Then ftretch'd his feather'd fans with all his might,
And to the neighbouring maple wing'd his flight;
Whom when the traitor fafe on tree beheld,
He curs'd the Gods, with fhame and sorrow fill'd;
Shame for his folly, forrow out of time,
For plotting an unprofitable crime;
Yet, mastering both, th' artificer of lyes
Renews th' affault, and his last battery tries.
Though I, faid he, did ne'er in thought offend,
How justly may my lord fufpect his friend!
Th' appearance is against me, I confess,
Who feemingly have put you in diftrefs:
You, if your goodness does not plead my caufe,
May think I broke all hofpitable laws,
To bear you from your palace-yard by might,,
And put your noble perfon in a fright:
This, fince you take it ill, I must repent,
Though, heaven can witness, with no bad intent
I practis'd it, to make you tafe your cheer
With double pleasure, firft prepar'd by fear.
So loyal fubjects often feize their prince,
Forc'd (for his good) to feeming violence,
Yet mean his facred perfon not the leaft offence.