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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XVII. | FABLE XVII. The Blind Woman and Doctor:
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XXXI. |
Truth in Fiction | ||
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FABLE XVII. The Blind Woman and Doctor:
Or, A Rowland for an Oliver.
An
Aged Matron, who had lost her Sight,
Was tir'd with living in perpetual Night;
And with a Quack did, for a Sum, agree
To be restor'd; but if no Cure, no Fee.
The wary Spark, who, for such dubious Gains,
Was not content to spend his Time and Pains;
Resolv'd he wou'd himself before-hand pay,
And still convey'd some Moveable away;
'Till, by his daily undiscover'd Theft,
No Utensil in all the House was left.
At last the Cure was by the Doctor wrought,
But by the Patient still imperfect thought;
For tho' he did her former Sight restore,
She cou'd not see the Goods she saw before:
And therefore, when he claim'd the Promise made,
Refus'd him Payment, who too well was paid.
His Action brought, she did the Contract own,
But pleaded, That the Cure was still undone;
And thus did Proof, from seeming Reason, draw,
To bite the Biter, and evade the Law:
Before my Sight, by Sickness, was destroy'd,
I here a well-replenish'd House enjoy'd;
Nor were my Goods delusive Fallacies,
For then I saw them with these very Eyes:
But now this filching Quack pretends I See,
They are become invisible to me:
And since my Furniture I cannot find,
I either am, or had as good be Blind.
Was tir'd with living in perpetual Night;
And with a Quack did, for a Sum, agree
To be restor'd; but if no Cure, no Fee.
The wary Spark, who, for such dubious Gains,
Was not content to spend his Time and Pains;
Resolv'd he wou'd himself before-hand pay,
And still convey'd some Moveable away;
'Till, by his daily undiscover'd Theft,
No Utensil in all the House was left.
At last the Cure was by the Doctor wrought,
But by the Patient still imperfect thought;
For tho' he did her former Sight restore,
She cou'd not see the Goods she saw before:
And therefore, when he claim'd the Promise made,
Refus'd him Payment, who too well was paid.
His Action brought, she did the Contract own,
But pleaded, That the Cure was still undone;
And thus did Proof, from seeming Reason, draw,
To bite the Biter, and evade the Law:
Before my Sight, by Sickness, was destroy'd,
I here a well-replenish'd House enjoy'd;
Nor were my Goods delusive Fallacies,
For then I saw them with these very Eyes:
304
They are become invisible to me:
And since my Furniture I cannot find,
I either am, or had as good be Blind.
The MORAL.
‘The sly Designer, that, to gain his Ends,‘On Knav'ry, and fallacious Arts, depends;
‘Instructs the Men he injures in his Trade,
‘Who learn to Trick him, by the Tricks he play'd.
‘Thus they who Traps for others have prepar'd,
‘Are in their own Contrivances insnar'd;
‘O'er-shoot themselves in all their Policies,
‘And suffer by the Mischiefs they devise.
Truth in Fiction | ||