Teaz'd with their cries, her choler grew, And thus fhe fputter'd.
Fool that I was, to entertain
Such imps, fuch fiends, a hellish train!
Had ye been never hous'd and nurs'd,
I for a witch had ne'er been curs'd.
Το you I owe that crowds of boys
Worry me with eternal noife;
Straws laid across my pace retard,
The horfefhoe's nail'd (each thiefhold's guard); 30
The ftunted broom the wenches hide,
For fear that I should up and ride;
They ftick with pins my bleeding feat,
And bid me how my fecret teat."
"To hear you prate, would vex a faint;
Who hath moft reafon of complaint ?"
Replies a Cat. "Let's come to proof.
Had we ne'er ftarv'd beneath your roof,
We had, like others of our race,
In credit liv'd as beafts of chace.
'Tis infamy to ferve a hag;
Cats are thought imps, her broom a nag;
And boys against our lives combine,
Becaufe 'tis faid your Cats have nine."
THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SNAIL.
ALL upftarts, infolent in place,
Remind us of their vulgar race.
As in the funfhine of the morn
A Butterfly (but newly born)
Sate proudly perking on a rofe,
With pert conceit his bofom glows;
His wings (all glorious to behold)
Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold,
Wide he displays; the fpangled dew
Reflects his eyes and various hue.
His now-forgotten friend, a Snail,
Beneath his houfe, with flimy trail,
Crawls o'er the grafs; whom when he fpies,
In wrath he to the gardener cries:
"What means yon' peafant's daily toil,
From choaking weeds to rid the foil?
Why wake you to the morning's care?
Why with new arts correct the year?
Why grows the peach with crimson hue?
And why the plumb's inviting blue?
Were they to feast his taste defign'd,
That vermin of voracious kind?
Crush then the flow, the pilfering race,
So purge thy garden from difgrace."
"What arrogance! the Snail reply'd; How infolent is upstart pride!
Hadft thou not thus, with infult vain,
Provok'd my patience to complain,
I had conceal'd thy meaner birth,
Nor trac'd thee to the fcum of earth:
For fcarce nine funs have wak'd the hours,
To fwell the fruit, and paint the flowers,
Since I thy humbler 1 fe furvey'd,
In bafe, in fordid guife array'd;
A hideous infect, vile, unclean,
You dragg'd a flow and noisome train;
And from your spider-bowels drew
Foul film, and fpun the dirty clue.
I own my humble life, good friend;
Snail was I born, and Snail shall end.
And what's a Butterfly? at best
He's but a caterpillar drest;
And all thy race (a numerous feed)
THE SCOLD AND THE PARROT.
HE husband thus reprov'd his wife:
Who deals in flander, lives in strife.
Art thou the herald of disgrace,
Denouncing war to all thy race?
Can nothing quell thy thunder's rage,
Which spares nor friend, nor fex, nor age?
That vixen tongue of your's, my Dear,
Alarms our neighbours far and near.
Good Gods! 'tis like a rolling river,
That murmuring flows, and flows for ever!
Ne'er tir'd, perpetual difcord fowing!
Like Fame it gathers ftrength by going.”
“Heigh-day!” the flippant tongue replies,
"How folemn is the fool! how wife!
Is Nature's choicest gift debarr'd ?
Nay, frown not; for I will be heard.
Women of late are finely ridden,
A Parrot's privilege forbidden!
You praife his talk, his fqualling fong;
But wives are always in the wrong"
Now reputations flew in pieces
Of mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces:
She ran the Parrot's language o'er,
Bawd, huffy, drunkard, flattern, whore;
On all the fex fhe vents her fury,
Tries and condemns without a jury.
At once the torrent of her words
Alarm'd cat, monkey, dogs, and birds :
All join their forces to confound her,
Pufs fpits, the monkey chatters round her;
The yelping cur her heels affaults;
The magpie blabs out all her faults;
Poll, in the uproar, from his cage,
With this rebuke outfcream'd her rage.
"A Parrot is for talking priz'd,
But prattling women are defpis'd.
She who attacks another's honour,
Draws every living thing upon her.
Think, Madam, when you ftretch your lungs,
That all your neighbours too have tongues :
One flander muft ten thoufand get;
The world with intereft pays the debt.
THE CUR AND THE MASTIFF.
A SNEAKING Cur, the mafter's spy,
Rewarded for his daily lye,
With fecret jealoufies and fears
Set all together by the ears,
Poor Pufs to-day was in difgrace,
Another Cat fupply'd her place;
The Hound was beat, the Mastiff chid,
The Monkey was the room forbid;
Each to his dearest friend grew shy,
And none could tell the reafon why.
A plan to rob the houfe was laid :
The thief with love feduc'd the maid,
Cajol'd the Cur, and ftroak'd his head,
And bought his fecrecy with bread;
He next the Maftiff's honour try'd,
Whofe honeft jaws the bribe defy'd ;
He stretch'd his hand to proffer more;
The furly Dog his fingers tore.
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