Truth in Fiction Or, Morality in Masquerade. A Collection of Two hundred twenty five Select Fables of Aesop, and other Authors. Done into English Verse. By Edmund Arwaker |
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| XXXVIII. | FABLE XXXVIII. The Peasant and his Kid:
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 | Truth in Fiction |  |
FABLE XXXVIII. The Peasant and his Kid:
Or, Gifts recommend the Giver.
An honest Peasant, in his Dealings just,
Too good to cheat, to simple to distrust;
By crafty and litigious Knaves oppress'd,
Fled to the Law, in hope to be redress'd:
But wholsom Laws, made to restrain Abuse,
Were so perverted from their proper Use,
That, by a tedious Suit, he suffer'd more,
Than by the Wrongs he had sustain'd before.
When thus reduc'd, his Bus'ness to conclude,
In forma pauperis he truly Su'd.
Too good to cheat, to simple to distrust;
By crafty and litigious Knaves oppress'd,
Fled to the Law, in hope to be redress'd:
But wholsom Laws, made to restrain Abuse,
Were so perverted from their proper Use,
That, by a tedious Suit, he suffer'd more,
Than by the Wrongs he had sustain'd before.
When thus reduc'd, his Bus'ness to conclude,
In forma pauperis he truly Su'd.
The greedy Counsel, by the Court assign'd,
To such dry Clients was but ill enclin'd:
And, when the Pauper came to state his Case,
Pretended always want of Time, or Place.
He often came, but still was forc'd to wait,
And cool his Heels, before the Lawyer's Gate.
The Porter, who his Face and Bus'ness knew,
And how his Master stood affected too,
Said, He was busie still, or not at home,
And that 'twas best some other time to come.
The slighted Client, guessing, by degrees,
His Counsel did not Leisure want, but Fees,
Cull'd a fat Suckling from his slender Flock,
And recommended thus, made bold to knock:
Then pinch'd the Kid, whose Bleating did proclaim,
That he who Entrance sought, Full-handed came.
The docile Porter, by his Master taught
To let in all who grateful Presents brought,
Open'd the Gate, and with a fawning Grin,
Welcom'd the Man, and pray'd him to walk in.
The Peasant smil'd, and pleas'd at this Access,
Thus to the Means did his just Thanks address;
To you, Dear Kid, my Gratitude is due,
For my Admittance was procur'd by you.
To such dry Clients was but ill enclin'd:
147
Pretended always want of Time, or Place.
He often came, but still was forc'd to wait,
And cool his Heels, before the Lawyer's Gate.
The Porter, who his Face and Bus'ness knew,
And how his Master stood affected too,
Said, He was busie still, or not at home,
And that 'twas best some other time to come.
The slighted Client, guessing, by degrees,
His Counsel did not Leisure want, but Fees,
Cull'd a fat Suckling from his slender Flock,
And recommended thus, made bold to knock:
Then pinch'd the Kid, whose Bleating did proclaim,
That he who Entrance sought, Full-handed came.
The docile Porter, by his Master taught
To let in all who grateful Presents brought,
Open'd the Gate, and with a fawning Grin,
Welcom'd the Man, and pray'd him to walk in.
The Peasant smil'd, and pleas'd at this Access,
Thus to the Means did his just Thanks address;
To you, Dear Kid, my Gratitude is due,
For my Admittance was procur'd by you.
The MORAL.
‘Prevailing Gifts, that often blind the Wise,‘Open the Miser's Gates, his Ears, and Eyes.
‘The Men, who back'd with such Credentials come,
‘Force their own Way, and for themselves make Room.
‘Whoe'er with such persuasive Rhet'rick Plead,
‘Must gain their Point, and in their Cause succeed.
‘None can those pow'rful Arguments withstand,
‘Which still the Grants they wou'd obtain, command.
| Truth in Fiction | |