From heaven, one day, did Jupiter proclaim, “Let all that live before my throne appear, And there if any one hath aught to blame, In matter, form, or texture of his frame, He may bring forth his grievance without fear. Redress shall instantly be given to each. Come, monkey, now, first let us have your speech. You see these quadrupeds, your brothers; Comparing, then, yourself with others, Are you well satisfied?” “And wherefore not?” Says Jock. “Haven’t I four trotters with the rest? Is not my visage comely as the best? But this my brother Bruin, is a blot On thy creation fair; And sooner than be painted I’d be shot, Were I, great sire, a bear.” The bear approaching, doth he make complaint? Not he;—himself he lauds without restraint. The elephant he needs must criticise; To crop his ears and stretch his tail were wise; A creature he of huge, misshapen size. The elephant, though famed as beast judicious, While on his own account he had no wishes, Pronounced dame whale too big to suit his taste; Of flesh and fat she was a perfect waste. The little ant, again, pronounced the gnat too wee; To such a speck, a vast colossus she. Each censured by the rest, himself content, Back to their homes all living things were sent.
Such folly liveth yet with human fools. For others lynxes, for ourselves but moles. Great blemishes in other men we spy, Which in ourselves we pass most kindly by. As in this world we’re but way-farers, Kind Heaven has made us wallet-bearers. The pouch behind our own defects must store, The faults of others lodge in that before.
Clad in a lion’s shaggy hide, An ass spread terror far and wide, And, though himself a coward brute, Put all the world to scampering rout: But, by a piece of evil luck, A portion of an ear outstuck, Which soon reveal’d the error Of all the panic terror. Old Martin did his office quick. Surprised were all who did not know the trick, To see that Martin, at his will, Was driving lions to the mill!
In France, the men are not a few Of whom this fable proves too true; Whose valour chiefly doth reside In coat they wear and horse they ride.
“Dear wolf,” complain’d a hungry fox, “A lean chick’s meat, or veteran cock’s, Is all I get by toil or trick: Of such a living I am sick. With far less risk, you’ve better cheer; A house you need not venture near, But I must do it, spite of fear. Pray, make me master of your trade. And let me by that means be made The first of all my race that took Fat mutton to his larder’s hook: Your kindness shall not be repented.” The wolf quite readily consented. “I have a brother, lately dead: Go fit his skin to yours,” he said. ‘Twas done; and then the wolf proceeded: “Now mark you well what must be done, The dogs that guard the flock to shun.” The fox the lessons strictly heeded. At first he boggled in his dress; But awkwardness grew less and less, Till perseverance gave success. His education scarce complete, A flock, his scholarship to greet, Came rambling out that way. The new-made wolf his work began, Amidst the heedless nibblers ran, And spread a sore dismay. The bleating host now surely thought That fifty wolves were on the spot: Dog, shepherd, sheep, all homeward fled, And left a single sheep in pawn, Which Renard seized when they were gone. But, ere upon his prize he fed, There crow’d a cock near by, and down The scholar threw his prey and gown, That he might run that way the faster— Forgetting lessons, prize and master.
Reality, in every station, Will burst out on the first occasion.
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