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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| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
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| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
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| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
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| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
 | Truth in Fiction |  |
A busie
Spider, that had long kept Home,
And labour'd tightly at her Native Loom;
The Web compleated, wou'd relax her Care,
And walk'd to view the Fields, and take the Air.
To her the Gout, originally Lame,
And by a Crutch supported, limping came.
Thus join'd, in pleasing Talk they pass'd the Day,
And, while intent on that, mistook their Way;
'Till Night approaching, made them recollect,
And to next Town in view their Course direct;
Resolv'd, that each shou'd for himself provide,
As each expected to be best supply'd.
And labour'd tightly at her Native Loom;
The Web compleated, wou'd relax her Care,
And walk'd to view the Fields, and take the Air.
To her the Gout, originally Lame,
And by a Crutch supported, limping came.
Thus join'd, in pleasing Talk they pass'd the Day,
And, while intent on that, mistook their Way;
'Till Night approaching, made them recollect,
And to next Town in view their Course direct;
Resolv'd, that each shou'd for himself provide,
As each expected to be best supply'd.
The Spider made a Rich Man's House her Inn,
And there, tho' tir'd, did a new Task begin;
But e're she cou'd compleat her curious Loom,
She found the Work demolish'd by a Broom:
The cleanly Maids, (to Strangers often rude)
From Hole to Hole th' unwelcom Guest pursu'd;
And, like Penelope revers'd, their Spight
Undid by Day, what she had wrought by Night.
Finding no Safety cou'd be there enjoy'd,
Where Maids and Besoms were so much employ'd,
She left her Lodging, with Regret, to see
That all liv'd there in Peace, and Ease, but she.
Mean-while her Fellow-Traveller, the Gout,
From Door to Door had halted long about,
And begg'd Admittance; but, alas! in vain,
None wou'd the weary Cripple entertain:
'Till a poor Wretch, more tenderly enclin'd,
Part of his Cabin, and his Bed, resign'd:
But there the dainty Inmate sadly far'd,
His Food was coarse, his Lodging very hard;
A dry, brown, mouldy Crust was all his Meat,
Which Hunger scarce cou'd tempt a Mouse to eat;
His Drink was Puddle, from a dirty Bowl,
Which, what shou'd cleanse it, rather help'd to foul:
The hard, cold Ground, with Chaff, and thinly spread,
Was all the poor Provision for his Bed;
Where, vex'd with prickly Awns, and hungry Fleas,
Toil was his Rest, and Torment all his Ease:
This made his early Haste the Sun prevent,
And, when his Legs were dress'd, Abroad he went:
Where, as he hopt along the rugged Street,
He, and his worthy Friend, Arachne, meet.
Good-morrow's giv'n; they to a Porch retir'd,
And of each other's good Success enquir'd.
Now both, with Grief, alternately relate
The mournful Stories of their dismal Fate.
The Spider, with their Cleanliness, upbraids
The Curious Mistress, and her Dainty Maids.
The Gout, in sad Return, his Lodging blam'd,
And said, his Feet were more than ever Lam'd.
From these Accounts, their Thoughts were next employ'd,
How they such future Suff'rings might avoid.
The Spider, what the Gout dislik'd, approv'd;
And He, what most She discommended, lov'd.
Since neither cou'd with his first Lot dispense,
They therefore chose to change their Residence.
All Day they skulk'd, and when retiring Light
Left them the fav'ring Shelter of the Night,
The Spider travel'd to the Beggar's Crate,
The Gout went boldly to the Rich-Man's Gate;
Which soon the ready Porter did unlock,
Alarm'd by his Authoritative Knock.
His Quality made known, the Lordly Guest
Was with the height of Compliment caress'd:
The Master treated him with vast Expence,
As if he was to entertain a Prince:
A costly Bath for his swoln Feet was made,
And Velvet Cushions, to support them, laid.
The hurry'd Servants, with officious Haste,
Strove who shou'd most with his Commands be grac'd:
All that nice Palates reckon dainty Chear,
From Parts remote was sought, and purchas'd dear:
The richest Grapes contributed their Wine
To whet his Stomach, and his Blood refine:
Swan's softest Down was crouded in his Bed,
And light rich Indian Quilts were on it spread:
Her utmost Skill the busie Lady try'd,
And to his Feet warm Poultices apply'd:
She fear'd to hurt him by too rude a Touch,
And thought her own soft Hand transgress'd too much:
Her Cook'ry too as nicely she display'd,
Soops, Caudles, Creams, Tisanes, and Jelleys made:
All Things were thought on that cou'd give him Ease,
His Wants supply, or wanton Fancy please.
And there, tho' tir'd, did a new Task begin;
But e're she cou'd compleat her curious Loom,
She found the Work demolish'd by a Broom:
The cleanly Maids, (to Strangers often rude)
From Hole to Hole th' unwelcom Guest pursu'd;
And, like Penelope revers'd, their Spight
Undid by Day, what she had wrought by Night.
Finding no Safety cou'd be there enjoy'd,
Where Maids and Besoms were so much employ'd,
She left her Lodging, with Regret, to see
That all liv'd there in Peace, and Ease, but she.
189
From Door to Door had halted long about,
And begg'd Admittance; but, alas! in vain,
None wou'd the weary Cripple entertain:
'Till a poor Wretch, more tenderly enclin'd,
Part of his Cabin, and his Bed, resign'd:
But there the dainty Inmate sadly far'd,
His Food was coarse, his Lodging very hard;
A dry, brown, mouldy Crust was all his Meat,
Which Hunger scarce cou'd tempt a Mouse to eat;
His Drink was Puddle, from a dirty Bowl,
Which, what shou'd cleanse it, rather help'd to foul:
The hard, cold Ground, with Chaff, and thinly spread,
Was all the poor Provision for his Bed;
Where, vex'd with prickly Awns, and hungry Fleas,
Toil was his Rest, and Torment all his Ease:
This made his early Haste the Sun prevent,
And, when his Legs were dress'd, Abroad he went:
Where, as he hopt along the rugged Street,
He, and his worthy Friend, Arachne, meet.
Good-morrow's giv'n; they to a Porch retir'd,
And of each other's good Success enquir'd.
Now both, with Grief, alternately relate
The mournful Stories of their dismal Fate.
The Spider, with their Cleanliness, upbraids
The Curious Mistress, and her Dainty Maids.
The Gout, in sad Return, his Lodging blam'd,
And said, his Feet were more than ever Lam'd.
From these Accounts, their Thoughts were next employ'd,
How they such future Suff'rings might avoid.
The Spider, what the Gout dislik'd, approv'd;
And He, what most She discommended, lov'd.
Since neither cou'd with his first Lot dispense,
They therefore chose to change their Residence.
190
Left them the fav'ring Shelter of the Night,
The Spider travel'd to the Beggar's Crate,
The Gout went boldly to the Rich-Man's Gate;
Which soon the ready Porter did unlock,
Alarm'd by his Authoritative Knock.
His Quality made known, the Lordly Guest
Was with the height of Compliment caress'd:
The Master treated him with vast Expence,
As if he was to entertain a Prince:
A costly Bath for his swoln Feet was made,
And Velvet Cushions, to support them, laid.
The hurry'd Servants, with officious Haste,
Strove who shou'd most with his Commands be grac'd:
All that nice Palates reckon dainty Chear,
From Parts remote was sought, and purchas'd dear:
The richest Grapes contributed their Wine
To whet his Stomach, and his Blood refine:
Swan's softest Down was crouded in his Bed,
And light rich Indian Quilts were on it spread:
Her utmost Skill the busie Lady try'd,
And to his Feet warm Poultices apply'd:
She fear'd to hurt him by too rude a Touch,
And thought her own soft Hand transgress'd too much:
Her Cook'ry too as nicely she display'd,
Soops, Caudles, Creams, Tisanes, and Jelleys made:
All Things were thought on that cou'd give him Ease,
His Wants supply, or wanton Fancy please.
While he was pamper'd thus, his happy Friend
Did all her Time in equal Pleasure spend;
Within the Poor-Man's Hut she liv'd at rest,
No curious Dames did there her Work molest:
In ev'ry Corner her fine Nets she spread,
And on intangl'd Flyes of all sorts fed;
She wrought her circling Cobweb free from Care,
And fear'd no Breaches but from ruffling Air:
Thus she Sole Empress of the Cottage reign'd,
And all Insults of Whisks and Brooms disdain'd.
The Friends thus pleas'd, an Interview contriv'd,
To tell each other in whar Bliss they liv'd:
When met, each prais'd what to his Thought seem'd best;
The Gout, his Fare, Attendance, Ease, and Rest.
The Spider, who enjoy'd what she desir'd,
Her Safety, and her Liberty, admir'd.
Each did unspeakable Enjoyments find,
And to pursue his pleasing Course design'd;
To take their Quarters, as they stroll'd about,
In Crates the Spider, and in Courts the Gout.
Did all her Time in equal Pleasure spend;
Within the Poor-Man's Hut she liv'd at rest,
No curious Dames did there her Work molest:
In ev'ry Corner her fine Nets she spread,
And on intangl'd Flyes of all sorts fed;
191
And fear'd no Breaches but from ruffling Air:
Thus she Sole Empress of the Cottage reign'd,
And all Insults of Whisks and Brooms disdain'd.
The Friends thus pleas'd, an Interview contriv'd,
To tell each other in whar Bliss they liv'd:
When met, each prais'd what to his Thought seem'd best;
The Gout, his Fare, Attendance, Ease, and Rest.
The Spider, who enjoy'd what she desir'd,
Her Safety, and her Liberty, admir'd.
Each did unspeakable Enjoyments find,
And to pursue his pleasing Course design'd;
To take their Quarters, as they stroll'd about,
In Crates the Spider, and in Courts the Gout.
| Truth in Fiction | |