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FABLE XIV. THE BEAR AND MOUNTEBANK.

There liv'd a quack in high repute,
By virtue of a velvet suit,
And celebrated bill;
As for his knowledge, 'tis allow'd,
He had enough to cheat the crowd,
And that's good modern skill.
Once as this orator held forth
On topics of his medicines' worth,
And wondrous cures they wrought;
Though not a word they understood,
His eloquence so charm'd the crowd,
That still they gap'd and bought.
Midst his harangue, one day it chanc'd,
Tom Dove the Bear that way advanc'd,
In procession to his stake;
The rabble quit their doctor straight,
And with huzzas on Bruin wait,
Who thus the chief bespake:
“D' ye hear, ye pack of bawling louts,
Compos'd of vermin, stink, and clouts,
Why all this noise and do?
Though through my nose a ring is got,
And here I'm baited like a sot,
Still I resemble you.

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“Observe that Mountebanking fool,
Perch'd yonder on his three-legg'd stool,
With poisonous drugs to sell;
See o'er his shoulder how he sneers,
Three hours to lug you by the ears,
Yet pleases wondrous well.
“With fulsome lyes and stupid stuff,
He cheats and banters you enough,
Yet there ye flock by shoals;
But if by chance a bear's brought out,
At him ye hollow, laugh, and shout,
And who's the greater fools?
“So, brother monsters, face about,
The quack, your keeper, wants his rout;
For, underneath the rose,
Another sort of brutes there are,
Besides a stupid Russian bear,
That's misled by the nose.”

THE MORAL.

Ill ministers, like quacks, the crowd deceive,
Defraud them for their good; and they believe:
At France and Rome they rail with specious arts,
And, whilst they cheat the vulgar, gain their hearts.
But if sagacious Bruin smells them out,
Their frauds exposing to the injur'd rout;
To mischief prone, implacable, and strong,
Ten thousand tongues and hands revenge the wrong.