A Poetical Translation Of The Fables of Phaedrus With The Appendix of Gudius, And an accurate Edition of the Original on the opposite Page. To which is added, A Parsing Index For the Use of Learners. By Christopher Smart |
 |
|
| 1. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| 2. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| 3. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| 4. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| 5. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. | FABLE VII. Prince the Piper. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | A Poetical Translation Of The Fables of Phaedrus |  |
203
FABLE VII. Prince the Piper.
A Little, friv'lous, abject mind,
Pleas'd with the rabble, puft with wind,
When once, as fast as pride presumes,
Itself with vanity it plumes,
Is by fond lightness brought with ease
To any ridicule you please.
Pleas'd with the rabble, puft with wind,
When once, as fast as pride presumes,
Itself with vanity it plumes,
Is by fond lightness brought with ease
To any ridicule you please.
One Prince, a Piper to the play,
Was rather noted in his way,
As call'd upon to shew his art,
Whene'er Bathyllus did his part.
He being at a certain fair,
(I do not well remember where)
While they pull'd down the booth in haste,
Not taking heed his leg displac'd,
He from the scaffold fell so hard—
( Would he his pipes had rather marr'd!
Tho' they, poor fellow! were to him,
As dear almost as life and limb.)
Borne by the kind officious crowd,
Home he's conducted, groaning loud.
Some months elaps'd before he found
Himself recover'd of his wound,
Meantime, according to their way,
The droll frequenters of the play
Had a great miss of him, whose touch
The dancers spirits rais'd so much.
A certain man of high renown,
Was just preparing for the town
Some games the mob to entertain,
When Prince began to walk again;
Whom, what with bribes and pray'rs, his Grace
Prevail'd upon to shew his face
In this performance, by all means—
And while he waits behind the scenes,
A rumour thro' the house is spread,
By certain “that the Piper's dead.”
Others cry'd out, “The man is here,
“And will immediately appear.”
The curtain draws, the lightnings flash,
The Gods speak out their usual trash.
An ode, not to the Piper known,
Was to the chorus-leader shown,
Which he was order'd to repeat,
And which was clos'd with this conceit—
Receive with joy, O loyal Rome,
Thy Prince just rescu'd from his tomb.
They all at once stand up and clap,
At which my most facetious chap,
Kisses his hand, and scrapes, and bows
To his good patrons in the house.
First the Equestrian order smoke
The fool's mistake, and high in joke,
Command the song to be encor'd,
Which ended, flat upon the board
The Piper falls, the knights acclaim;
The people think that Prince's aim
Is for a crown of bays at least.
Now all the seats perceiv'd the jest,
And with his bandage white as snow,
White frock, white pumps, a perfect beau,
Proud of the feats he had atchiev'd,
And these high honours he receiv'd
With one unanimous huzza,
Poor Prince was kick'd out of the play.
Was rather noted in his way,
As call'd upon to shew his art,
Whene'er Bathyllus did his part.
He being at a certain fair,
(I do not well remember where)
While they pull'd down the booth in haste,
Not taking heed his leg displac'd,
He from the scaffold fell so hard—
( Would he his pipes had rather marr'd!
Tho' they, poor fellow! were to him,
As dear almost as life and limb.)
Borne by the kind officious crowd,
Home he's conducted, groaning loud.
205
Himself recover'd of his wound,
Meantime, according to their way,
The droll frequenters of the play
Had a great miss of him, whose touch
The dancers spirits rais'd so much.
A certain man of high renown,
Was just preparing for the town
Some games the mob to entertain,
When Prince began to walk again;
Whom, what with bribes and pray'rs, his Grace
Prevail'd upon to shew his face
In this performance, by all means—
And while he waits behind the scenes,
A rumour thro' the house is spread,
By certain “that the Piper's dead.”
Others cry'd out, “The man is here,
“And will immediately appear.”
The curtain draws, the lightnings flash,
The Gods speak out their usual trash.
An ode, not to the Piper known,
Was to the chorus-leader shown,
Which he was order'd to repeat,
And which was clos'd with this conceit—
Receive with joy, O loyal Rome,
Thy Prince just rescu'd from his tomb.
207
At which my most facetious chap,
Kisses his hand, and scrapes, and bows
To his good patrons in the house.
First the Equestrian order smoke
The fool's mistake, and high in joke,
Command the song to be encor'd,
Which ended, flat upon the board
The Piper falls, the knights acclaim;
The people think that Prince's aim
Is for a crown of bays at least.
Now all the seats perceiv'd the jest,
And with his bandage white as snow,
White frock, white pumps, a perfect beau,
Proud of the feats he had atchiev'd,
And these high honours he receiv'd
With one unanimous huzza,
Poor Prince was kick'd out of the play.
| A Poetical Translation Of The Fables of Phaedrus | |