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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| XIX. | FABLE XIX. The Priest and Apples:
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 | Truth in Fiction |  |
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FABLE XIX. The Priest and Apples:
Or, Hunger, the best Sauce.
A
Priest, who in good Eating took delight,
And serv'd no God, like his nice Appetite;
Was by a Man (who wou'd his Favour win,
And hop'd thereby he might more cheaply Sin)
Invited to partake a Christmas-Feast,
At which he meant to make a hearty Guest.
Mean-time he fancy'd Dishes he thought good,
And by Anticipation chew'd the Cud;
'Till the wish'd Day of Banqueting was come,
And call'd the joyful Epicure from Home.
With Expectation big, he went Abroad,
And found a Hoard of Apples on his Road:
But (tho' for Meat his craving Stomach press'd)
He cou'd not such a homely Treat digest:
The Delicacies he did soon expect,
Made him that mean, tho' present Fare, reject.
And, in Contempt, the supercilious Brute
Play'd a Dog-trick, and piss'd upon the Fruit.
As thence he mov'd to the expected Place,
A new-ris'n River stopt his eager Pace:
Afraid to drown, he durst no farther ride,
But, for his Safety, once his Guts deny'd:
Yet sadly at the Disappointment griev'd,
That had his Belly and his Hopes deceiv'd.
And serv'd no God, like his nice Appetite;
Was by a Man (who wou'd his Favour win,
And hop'd thereby he might more cheaply Sin)
Invited to partake a Christmas-Feast,
At which he meant to make a hearty Guest.
Mean-time he fancy'd Dishes he thought good,
And by Anticipation chew'd the Cud;
'Till the wish'd Day of Banqueting was come,
And call'd the joyful Epicure from Home.
With Expectation big, he went Abroad,
And found a Hoard of Apples on his Road:
But (tho' for Meat his craving Stomach press'd)
He cou'd not such a homely Treat digest:
The Delicacies he did soon expect,
Made him that mean, tho' present Fare, reject.
307
Play'd a Dog-trick, and piss'd upon the Fruit.
As thence he mov'd to the expected Place,
A new-ris'n River stopt his eager Pace:
Afraid to drown, he durst no farther ride,
But, for his Safety, once his Guts deny'd:
Yet sadly at the Disappointment griev'd,
That had his Belly and his Hopes deceiv'd.
Now his impatient Hunger pinch'd him sore,
And made him covet what he scorn'd before:
Back in full Gallop to the Place he went
Where first the Apples did themselves present;
And there the Fruit, on the fame Spot of Ground,
In the sweet Pickle he had left it, found.
By pressing Hunger urg'd, he long'd to eat,
Tho' his nice Palate disapprov'd the Meat:
This made him squeamish, and abhor the Food,
That strongly recommended it for good:
But Hunger, that makes all things relish well,
Prevail'd, and, without scruple, to't he fell.
And made him covet what he scorn'd before:
Back in full Gallop to the Place he went
Where first the Apples did themselves present;
And there the Fruit, on the fame Spot of Ground,
In the sweet Pickle he had left it, found.
By pressing Hunger urg'd, he long'd to eat,
Tho' his nice Palate disapprov'd the Meat:
This made him squeamish, and abhor the Food,
That strongly recommended it for good:
But Hunger, that makes all things relish well,
Prevail'd, and, without scruple, to't he fell.
The MORAL.
‘While pamper'd Gluttons wholsom Fruit despise,‘Amidst full Tables, and Varieties;
‘The Men with Hunger pin'd, and thrifty Souls,
‘No poinant Sauces crave, nor Golden Bowls:
‘On what suffices Nature, they can Feast,
‘And relish homely Fare, as meanly dress'd.
‘Necessity, whose Empire all must own,
‘Makes what it recommends, go sweetly down:
‘And in our selves we find the Proverb true,
‘Which lets us know what hungry Dogs will do.
| Truth in Fiction | |