For settlements the lawyer's fee'd;
Is my hand witness to the deed?
If they like dog and cat agree,
Go rail at Plutus, not at me.'

Plutus appear'd, and said, ''Tis true,
In marriage gold is all their view:
They seek not beauty, wit, or sense;
And love is seldom the pretence.
All offer ingense at my shrine,
And I alone the bargain sign.
How can Belinda blame her fate?
She only ask❜d a great estate.
Doris was rich enough, 'tis true;
Her lord must give her title too :
And ev'ry man, or rich or poor,
A fortune asks, and asks no more.'

Av'rice, whatever shape it bears,
Must still be coupled with its cares.

FABLE XIII.

The tame Stag.

As a young Stag the thicket pass'd,
The branches held his antlers fast;
A clown who saw the captive hung,
Across the horns his halter flung.

Now safely hamper'd in the cord,
He bore the present to his lord.

His lord was pleas'd; as was the clown,
When he was tipp'd with half-a-crown.
The Stag was brought before his wife;
The tender lady begg'd his life.

'How sleek's the skin! how speck'd like ermine ! Sure never creature was so charming!'

At first within the yard confin'd,

He flies and hides from all mankind!
Now bolder grown, with fix'd amaze
And distant awe presumes to gaze;
Munches the linen on the lines,
And on a hood or apron dines;
He steals my little master's bread,
Follows the servants to be fed :

Nearer and nearer now he stands,
To feel the praise of patting hands;
Examines ev'ry fist for meat,

And though repuls'd, disdains retreat;
Attacks again with levell'd horns;
And man, that was his terror, scorns.
Such is the country maiden's fright,
When first a red-coat is in sight;
Behind the door she hides her face;
Next time at distance eyes the lace.
She now can all his terrors stand,
Nor from his squeeze withdraws her hand.
She plays familiar in his arms,

And ev'ry soldier hath his charms.
From tent to tent she spreads her flame;

For custom conquers fear and shame.

FABLE XIV.

The Monkey who had seen the World.
A MONKEY, to reform the times,
Resolv'd to visit foreign climes:
For men in distant regions roam
To bring politer manners home.
So forth he fares, all toil defies:
Misfortune serves to make us wise.

At length the treach'rous snare was laid, Poor Pug was caught, to town convey'd, There sold. (How envy'd was his doom, Made captive in a lady's room!)

Proud as a lover of his chains,
He day by day her favour gains.
Whene'er the duty of the day
The toilet calls; with mimic play
He twirls her knots, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.

In visits too his parts and wit,

When jests grew dull, were sure to hit.
Proud with applause, he thought his mind
In ev'ry courtly art refin'd:

Like Orpheus burnt with public zeal,
To civilize the monkey weal:

So watch'd occasion, broke his chain,

And sought his native woods again.
The hairy sylvans round him press,
Astonish'd at his strut and dress,
Some praise his sleeve; and others glote
Upon his rich embroider'd coat;
His dapper periwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powder'd back, above, below,
Like hoary frosts, or fleecy snow;
But all with envy and desire,
His flutt'ring shoulder-knot admire.

Hear and improve,' he pertly cries;

'I come to make a nation wise.

Weigh your own worth; support your place,
The next in rank to human race.

In cities long I pass'd my days,

Convers'd with men, and learn'd their ways,
Their dress, their courtly manners see;
Reform your state and copy me.

Seek ye to thrive? in flatt'ry deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.
Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit;
Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to ev'ry thing pretend,
And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow like man polite.'

He spoke, and bow'd. With mutt'ring jaws
The wond'ring circle grinn'd applause.
Now, warm'd with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite:
And fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool;

Studious of ev'ry coxcomb's airs,

He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears: O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts,

For vice is fitted to his parts.

FABLE XV.

The Philosopher and the Pheasants.
THE sage, awak'd at early day,
Through the deep forest took his way;
Drawn by the music of the groves,
Along the winding gloom he roves:
From tree to tree the warbling throats
Prolong the sweet alternate notes;
But where he pass'd he terror threw,
The song broke short, the warblers flew;
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,
And nightingales abhorr'd his sight;
All animals before him ran,

To shun the hateful sight of man.

Whence is this dread of every creature?

Fly they our figure or our nature?'
As thus he walk'd in musing thought,
His ear imperfect accents caught;
With cautious step he nearer drew,
By the thick shade conceal'd from view
High on the branch a Pheasant stood;
Around her all her listening brood;
Proud of the blessings of her nest,
She thus a mother's care express'd:

'No dangers here shall circumvent;

Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture trust
Than man; of animals the worst.
In him ingratitude you find,
A vice peculiar to the kind.

The sheep, whose annual fleece is dy'd
To guard his health, and serve his pride,
Forc'd from his fold and native plain,
Is in the cruel shambles slain.

The swarms, who, with industrious skill,
His hives with wax and honey fill,
In vain whole summer-days employ'd,
Their stores are sold, their race destroy'd.".
What tribute from the goose is paid?
Does not her wing all science aid?

Does it not lovers' hearts explain,

And drudge to raise the merchant's gain?
What now rewards this general use?
He takes the quills, and eats the goose.
Man then avoid, detest his ways;
So safety shall prolong your days.
When services are thus acquitted,
Be sure we Pheasants must be spitted."

FABLE XVI.

The Pin and the Needle.

A PIN, who long had serv'd a beauty,
Proficient in the toilet's duty,

Had form'd her sleeve, confin'd her hair,
Or giv'n her knot a smarter air,
Now nearest to her heart was plac'd,
Now in her mantua's tail disgrac'd:
But could she partial Fortune blame
Who saw her lovers serv'd the same?

At length from all her honours cast,
Through various turns of life she pass'd;
Now glitter'd or a tailor's arm:
Now kept a beggar's infant warm;
Now, rang'd within a miser's coat,
Contributes to his yearly groat:
Now, rais'd again from low approach,
She visits in the doctor's coach;
Here, there, by various fortune toss'd,
At last in Gresham Hall was lost.
Charm'd with the wonders of the show,
On ev'ry side, above, below,

She now of this, or that inquires,

What least was understood admires.

'Tis plain, each thing so struck her mind, Her head's of virtuoso kind.

'And pray what's this, and this, dear sir?" 'A Needle,' says th' interpreter.

She knew the name.

And thus the fool

Address'd her as a tailor's tool:

'A needle with that filthy stone, Quite idle, all with rust o'ergrown!