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<DATE>2014-05-13</DATE>
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<NAME>Alexis Jakobson</NAME>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<P>THE FABLES OF <HI>PILPAY,</HI> A Famous Indian PHYLOSOPHER:</P>
<P>Containing many u&s;eful Rules for the Conduct of Humane Life. Made <HI>Eng|li&s;h,</HI> and Addre&s;s'd to his Highne&s;s the Duke of <HI>Glouce&s;ter.</HI></P>
<P><HI>LONDON.</HI> Printed for <HI>Dan. Brown</HI> at the <HI>Black Swan</HI> without <HI>Temple Bar, Chr. Connigsby</HI> at the <HI>Turks-head</HI> again&s;t St. <HI>Dun&s;tans</HI> Church in <HI>Fleet-&s;treet, D. Midwinter,</HI> and <HI>T. Leigh,</HI> at the <HI>Ro&s;e</HI> and <HI>Crown</HI> in St. <HI>Paul</HI>'s Church Yard, 1699.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="dedication">
<PB REF="3">
<PB REF="3">
<HEAD>TO HIS Illu&s;trious Highne&s;s, THE Duke of <HI>Glouce&s;ter.</HI></HEAD>
<P>WHil&s;t all the forward Bloom of &s;o early a Spring, has already ripen'd tho&s;e Genuine GLORIES in Your <HI>Highne&s;s,</HI> that have now call'd YOU, YOUR GREAT SELF, to fill a <HI>Court,</HI> no long|er make a Part of One; a|mong&s;t the Univer&s;al Homa|gers that bend a Knee to &s;o Fair a <HI>Ri&s;ing Sun,</HI> be pleas'd to admit the Humble&s;t of tho&s;e Knees to lay this Offring at Your Highne&s;s's Feet.</P>
<PB REF="4">
<P>And if a Pre&s;umption of this kind may not wholly pre|tend to an Excu&s;e, at lea&s;t it may arrogate &s;ome &s;hadow of an Encouragement, when I &s;ee Your <HI>Highne&s;s,</HI> like a young <HI>Alexander,</HI> betwixt his <HI>Parmenio</HI> and his <HI>Ari&s;totle;</HI> nur&s;t under an equal Tutorage in <HI>Literature</HI> and <HI>Arms,</HI> a Student in <HI>Arts,</HI> as well as <HI>Glory:</HI> And while you are thus Daily promi&s;ing the World as Rich a Furniture of your <HI>Clo&s;et,</HI> as your <HI>Armory,</HI> 'tis this Attraction invites me to make this <HI>Oblation</HI> of <HI>Science,</HI> and <HI>Letters,</HI> to Your <HI>Highne&s;s.</HI> Be&s;ides as this little Hi&s;torical Piece, under the Cover of <HI>Fables,</HI> carries the In&s;truction and Illu&s;tration of all tho&s;e <HI>Princely Vertues</HI> that &s;hine in
<PB REF="4"><HI>Courts,</HI> and Adorn the <HI>Throne;</HI> where may I more properly devote the&s;e Miniatures of <HI>Morals,</HI> and <HI>Heroick Virtues,</HI> then to Your <HI>Highne&s;s,</HI> &s;o &s;hin|ing an ORIGINAL of them?</P>
<P>And as Your <HI>Highne&s;s,</HI> a|dorn'd both with tho&s;e <HI>Nume|rous Hereditary Graces,</HI> and &s;o many Acquir'd ones, appears the <HI>Univer&s;al Hope</HI> of <HI>Three Kingdoms,</HI> and indeed the Ex|pectation of the <HI>World;</HI> no le&s;s enrich'd with tho&s;e Illu&s;trious Veins, and tho&s;e Immediate Depending Virtues, Your <HI>High|ne&s;s</HI> &s;eems Born to give &s;o <HI>Glorious</HI> a <HI>Parentage</HI> their very Foundation of <HI>Immortality;</HI> whil&s;t not only the <HI>Be&s;t,</HI> and <HI>Greate&s;t</HI> of <HI>Princes,</HI> but what is yet a Nobler Exaltation, the
<PB REF="5"><HI>Faithfulle&s;t, Conjugal,</HI> ROYAL PAIR, &s;hall keep their <HI>Glories</HI> ever Living, in &s;o <HI>Darling a Branch</HI> from that <HI>Imperial Root.</HI></P>
<P>But whil&s;t I am thus wrapt up into Your <HI>Highne&s;s</HI>'s mo&s;t Exalted MERITS, I mu&s;t now take my Eyes from that dazling Object, to look down on the Poor unworthyne&s;s of that bold A&s;pirer, that dares throw him&s;elf at Your <HI>High|ne&s;s</HI>'s Feet, being, with the Profounde&s;t Veneration, and Humility,</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED><HI>Your Highne&s;s</HI>'s, Mo&s;t Devoted, and mo&s;t Dutiful Servant, <HI>Jo&s;eph Harris.</HI></SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="note">
<PB REF="5">
<HEAD>Adverti&s;ement.</HEAD>
<P><HI>PILPAY,</HI> an <HI>Indian Bramin</HI> is the Author of this Treati&s;e. The <HI>Indians attribute to their Wi&s;e Men the Name of</HI> Bramin, <HI>as the Greeks give to Theirs the Title of</HI> Brachmans. <HI>He com|pos'd</HI> this little Work, while he govern'd one part of <HI>Indol&s;tan;</HI> that is to &s;ay, the King|doms that lye between <HI>Indus</HI> and <HI>Ganges,</HI> under the Soveraignty of <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> his Ma&s;ter. <HI>Pilpay</HI> has di&s;play'd all his Po|liticks in this little Peice; and according to the Cu&s;tom of all the Ea&s;tern People, who never teach but in Parables, he lays before all Kings and Princes the Methods of well Governing their Subjects. <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> for a long time, kept this <HI>Depo&s;itum</HI> as a
<PB REF="6">great Secret, and left it to his Succe&s;&s;ours, till the Reign of <HI>Nou&s;chirvan</HI> King of <HI>Per&s;ia.</HI></P>
<P>That Prince, having heard much talk of this Book, &s;ent his Phy&s;itian on purpo&s;e to the <HI>Indies,</HI> to procure a Copy of it, what|ever it co&s;t him. The Phy&s;itian di&s;charg'd him&s;elf of his Tru&s;t to the great Satisfacti- of his Ma&s;ter; and being a per&s;on who perfectly under&s;tood the <HI>Indian</HI> Lan|guage, he tran&s;lated the&s;e Fables into the Ancient <HI>Per&s;ian</HI> Tongue, call'd <HI>Pahlavy,</HI> and which was u&s;ually &s;poken at that time by the Kings of <HI>Per&s;ia.</HI></P>
<P>The <HI>Arabians,</HI> after they had Con|quer'd the faire&s;t Provinces of the Ea&s;t, began to poli&s;h the Rudene&s;s of their Man|ners with the Ornaments of Learning. They not only endeavour'd to render their Language Copious and Delightful, but they al&s;o invited into their Country the mo&s;t Witty and Learned Per&s;ons of all the Nations of the World, to whom they gave great Rewards for Tran&s;lating all the mo&s;t Remarkable Books of every Coun|try. <HI>Aboul Ha&s;&s;an Abdalla Alman&s;or</HI>
<PB REF="6">tran&s;lated the&s;e Fables out of Per&s;ian into Arabic, by the order of <HI>Abou-Giafar Alman&s;or,</HI> the <HI>Aba&s;&s;id.</HI></P>
<P>This third Tran&s;lation was attended by a fourth, into the Per&s;ian, by the Com|mand of <HI>Na&s;reh Ben Ahmad.</HI> And <HI>Na&s;rallah, B<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">n Mouhammed, Ben Abdelhamed,</HI> tran&s;lated the&s;e Fables al&s;o into the Per&s;ian Language, and this la&s;t Tran&s;lation &s;urpa&s;s'd all the Re&s;t. From thence it was that we tran&s;lated ours: And they who are not ignorant of the Vari|rous and Differing Ver&s;ions of the Bible, <HI>Ari&s;totle, Euclid,</HI> and <HI>Ptolomy</HI> into Greek, Syriac, and Arabic, will not be &s;urpriz'd at the &s;everal Tran&s;lations of this Book. They will e&s;teem it the more, &s;ince frequent Tran&s;lations are the mo&s;t certain Evidencies of the Excellency of a Work. Therefore the Learned <HI>Bezourg Ommid,</HI> in his An|&s;wers to <HI>Cho&s;rou</HI> upon the mo&s;t intricate Doubts and knotty Que&s;tions, while he makes u&s;e of the&s;e Fables, &s;hews the real Benefit of 'em.</P>
<PB REF="7">
<P>There is no need of making any long Di&s;|cour&s;e upon the Method or Cu&s;tom of teach|ing in Parables, &s;ince it was the Practice ob&s;erv'd by the Saviour of the World among&s;t his Apo&s;tles, to whom, as the Go&s;pel tells us, he explain'd him&s;elf particularly in Parables. Be|fore that time the example of Trees, that cho&s;e them&s;elves a King, recited in the &s;econd of <HI>Kings,</HI> may &s;top the Mouths of the mo&s;t prepo&s;&s;e&s;s'd. The Jews have &s;o well continu'd this manner of Expre&s;&s;ing their Sence, and unfolding their Doctrines, that it cannot be conceal'd from tho&s;e who have perus'd the Jewi&s;h Writings. In the Talmud, Bere&s;chit, Rabba, Zohar, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> They make the Waters, Mountains, Trees, and Letters them&s;elves to &s;peak; as in Rabbi <HI>Akuibae;</HI> which was imitated by <HI>Lucian</HI> in his <HI>Judicium Vocalium.</HI> The re&s;t of the Orientals follow'd the Example of the Hebrews; the Indians had our <HI>Pilpay,</HI> and the Parables of <HI>Sandhaber,</HI> which are &s;till extant in the Hebrew, from whence our French deriv'd their Romance of the Wi&s;e Men of <HI>Rome.</HI> The Egyptians and Nubians have their <HI>Lockman,</HI> the mo&s;t ancient of all the
<PB REF="7">re&s;t, &s;ince <HI>Mirkhond</HI> in his Fir&s;t Vo|lum makes him a Contemporary with <HI>David.</HI> The Arabians al&s;o have a large Book of Fables, which is in great Repu|tation among 'em; the Author of which is highly applauded by their Fal&s;e Pro|phet.</P>
<P>The Greeks were Imitators of the Ea&s;tern People; I &s;ay Imitators, &s;ince the Greeks them&s;elves acknowledge that they gain'd this &s;ort of Learning from <HI>Ae&s;op,</HI> who was an Oriental, and who&s;e Life being written by the Monk <HI>Planudes,</HI> is the &s;ame with that of <HI>Lockmans;</HI> in&s;omuch that as <HI>Mercury</HI> makes a Pre|&s;ent to <HI>Ae&s;op,</HI> in <HI>Philo&s;tratus,</HI> the An|gels make a Pre&s;ent of Wi&s;dom to <HI>Lock|man,</HI> in <HI>Mirkhond.</HI></P>
<P>But we &s;hall leave the Reader to make his own Reflexions, and &s;ay no more but only this, that one of the Rea&s;ons which oblig'd the Ea&s;tern People, to make u&s;e of Fables in their In&s;tructions and Admonitions was, becau&s;e the Ea&s;tern Monarchies being for the mo&s;t part De&s;potic, their Subjects are no le&s;s re&s;train'd from
<PB REF="8">Freedom of Speech; however being an Inge|nious People they found out this way, whereby they might be able, without ex|po&s;ing their Lives, to inform and ad|vi&s;e their Princes, who treat 'em as Slaves, and will not permit 'em the liberty of Speaking what they think.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="fables">
<PB N="1" REF="8">
<HEAD>THE FABLES OF <HI>PILPAY:</HI> OR, The Conduct to be ob&s;erv'd by High and Low.</HEAD>
<DIV2 TYPE="preface">
<HEAD>What gave an Occa&s;ion to the Writing of this Book, and by whom it was Com|pos'd.</HEAD>
<P>HI&s;torians report, That anciently, to|wards the Confines of <HI>China,</HI> there was a King, who&s;e Renown as well as his Vertues were &s;pread far and near, and become the admiration of the World. The greate&s;t Princes of the Earth were &s;ubject to his Commands. He was atte<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">d like a <HI>Feridoun,</HI> lodg'd like <HI>Gem&s;chid,</HI> potent as <HI>Alex|ander,</HI>
<PB N="2" REF="9">and armed like <HI>Dara,</HI> or <HI>Darius.</HI> His Coun&s;el was compos'd of Per&s;ons of Integri|ty and Learning. His Riches were immen&s;e, his Arms numerous, and him&s;elf both Valiant and Ju&s;t. Rebels felt his Anger; his Souldiers imitated his Valour; his Ju&s;tice humbled the Pride of Tyrants, and his Goodne&s;s &s;uccour'd the Mi&s;erable. In a word, under the Empire of <HI>Humayon-Fal,</HI> for &s;o this vertuous Emperour was call'd, the People were happy, while ex|act Inqui&s;ition was made after the Wicked, and care was taken to puni&s;h 'em as Enemies to the Public Tranquility.</P>
<P>Ju&s;tice ought to be the Rule of every Prince's Actions, who de&s;ires his Kingdom and his Throne &s;hould be E&s;tabli&s;h'd like the Re&s;idence of God: But if he omits to admini&s;ter Ju&s;tice, let him be a&s;&s;ur'd, his Dominions will not be long &s;ecure from utter Ruin.</P>
<P>This King had a Vi&s;ir, or Prime Mini&s;ter, who lov'd the People like a real Father; he was Merciful and Compa&s;&s;ionate; and his Coun&s;els, like Tapers, gave light to the mo&s;t hidden Se|crets of the State. His Name was <HI>Gnoge&s;teh|rai,</HI> that is to &s;ay, &s;ucce&s;sful Coun&s;el, becau&s;e that by the addre&s;s of his Wit he had ren|der'd the Kingdom happy; &s;o that the King ne|ver undertook any Enterpri&s;e without con&s;ult|ing him. He did every thing by his Advice, and without it nothing pro&s;per'd.</P>
<P>One Day that the King rode a Hunting, the Vi&s;ir attended on him; and after the Sport and Plea&s;ure of their Exerci&s;e was over, the King was de&s;irous to return to his Palace: But the heat of the Sun was &s;o violently &s;corch|ing, that the King told the Vi&s;ir, he was not
<PB N="3" REF="9">able to endure it. The Vi&s;ir an&s;wer'd, That if it were his Maje&s;ty's plea&s;ure, he might go to the Foot of the Mountain where he would be &s;ure of cool Shade, and the refre&s;hing Breezes of the Wind, and that there they might &s;pend the heat of the Day. The King follow'd his Advice, and in a little time they got to the place, where the Coolne&s;s, caus'd by the &s;hade of &s;everal Trees that Nature &s;eem'd to have ta|ken delight to plant by the &s;ides of &s;undry Foun|tains, made 'em forget the Heat which they had endur'd upon the open Road. The King finding the Covert very delightful, &s;at down upon the green Gra&s;s, and falling into a deep Contemplation of the Works of God, he ad|mir'd the inimitable Painting of the Flowers and Pa&s;tures that offered them&s;elves to his &s;ight.</P>
<P>As he was looking round about him, he &s;py'd the Trunk of a Tree, which the rotten|ne&s;s of the Wood declard to be decay'd and ve|ry old, and wherein there was a &s;warm of Bees that were making Honey: Upon which, he asked the Vi&s;ir, what tho&s;e little Creatures were? Mo&s;t Sovereign Mo|narch, <HI>replied the Vi&s;ir,</HI> tho&s;e little Creatures are very beneficial, and do very little harm: They have a King among 'em, call'd <HI>Ja&s;oub,</HI> who is bigger than the re&s;t, and whom they all obey; he re&s;ides in a little &s;quare Apartment, and has a Vi&s;ir, his Porters, his Serjeants, and his Guards; and the Indu&s;try of all his Offi|cers is &s;uch, that they frame every one for them&s;elves a little fix-corner'd Chamber of Wax, the Angles of which differ not at all the one from the other, but are &s;o exactly made to an&s;wer one another, that the mo&s;t expert Geo|metrician
<PB N="4" REF="10">could not order 'em with more regula|rity. The&s;e little Chambers fini&s;h'd, the Vi|&s;ir takes of 'em an Oath of Fidelity; which is never to defile them&s;elves. According to which promi&s;e, they never light but upon the Branches of Ro&s;e-bu&s;hes or odoriferous Flowers, &s;o that their Food is dige&s;ted in a little time, and chang'd into a certain Sub&s;tance of a &s;weet and plea&s;ing Ta&s;te. When they return home the Porters &s;mell to 'em, and if they have no ill &s;cent about 'em they are permitted to enter; but if they have any ungrateful &s;cent they kill 'em. Or if they negligently &s;uffer any one that has an ill Scent to enter, and the King happens to &s;mell it, he &s;ends for the Porters and puts them and the Offender to death at the &s;ame time. If any &s;trange Fly endeavours to enter their Commu|nity, the Porters oppo&s;e him, and if he &s;eeks to enter by Force he is put to death. Hi&s;torians al&s;o report, that <HI>Gem&s;chid</HI> learnt to build his Palace, to have Vi&s;irs, Porters, Guards and Officers from the&s;e little Creatures.</P>
<P>When the King had heard the Vi&s;ir thus Di|&s;cour&s;e, he went near the Tree, &s;tood &s;till to behold the little Animals at Work, and after he had well con&s;ider'd 'em, he admir'd to &s;ee a Society of In&s;ects &s;o well govern'd. His Vi&s;ir beholding him wrapt up with A&s;toni&s;hment, Sir, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> all this good Order depends only upon the good Coun&s;el and prudent Conduct of wi&s;e and able Mini&s;ters, well affected to their Princes, and lovers of the public Peace, and the&s;e are they that always pre&s;erve an Em|pire in a flouri&s;hing Condition. In that we ought to follow the Example of the Great <HI>Dab&s;che|lim,</HI> who re&s;igned the Government of his King|doms
<PB N="5" REF="10">to the good Coun&s;els of the prudent <HI>Bra|min Pilpay;</HI> in&s;omuch, that by the good Gui|dance of that Mini&s;ter, he reign'd in Peace while he liv'd, and dying left to his Po&s;terity the happy Memory of his Name.</P>
<P>When the King heard him pronounce the Names of <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> and <HI>Pilpay,</HI> he felt in him|&s;elf the motions of a more than ordinary Joy. I have, <HI>&s;aid he to his Vi&s;ir,</HI> for a long time mo&s;t earne&s;tly de&s;ired to hear the Story of that <HI>Bra|min</HI>'s Government, but never yet could meet with an Opportunity to &s;atisfie my &s;elf; now I give thanks to Heaven, for that my De&s;ires may in &s;ome mea&s;ure be fulfil'd. I de&s;ire you there|fore to repeat it to me, to the end his whol&s;ome Coun&s;els may be beneficial as well to the Pub|lic, as to every particular Per&s;on. <HI>Whereupon the Vi&s;ir thus began.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Story of <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> and <HI>Pilpay.</HI></HEAD>
<P>I Have learnt from Men of Wit and Learning, that in one of the Cities of <HI>India,</HI> that was the Metropolis of it, there reign'd a Prince, who&s;e Mini&s;ters, Per&s;ons of clear Parts and deep In&s;ight, by their Coun&s;els rendred his Subjects happy, and &s;till &s;ucce&s;sfully brought to pa&s;s the ju&s;t De&s;igns of their Sovereign. He was a &s;worn Enemy of Oppre&s;&s;ion; nor could the Wicked gain their Ends in his Dominions, becau&s;e they were always &s;everely puni&s;hed. This King was call'd by the Name of <HI>Dab&s;che|lim,</HI> (a Name mo&s;t proper for &s;uch a Prince, as &s;ignifying in their Language, <HI>a Great King</HI>)
<PB N="6" REF="11">His Pui&s;&s;ance was &s;uch, that he undertook none but extraordinary Enterpri&s;es. His Army was compos'd of ten thou&s;and Elephants; and as for valiant and experienc'd Soldiers he had 'em a|bout him in great numbers, and his Trea&s;ures full to &s;upport 'em. All this render'd him for|midable to his Enemies, and procur'd the Re|po&s;e of his People, of whom he took a particu|lar care him&s;elf, hearing their Complaints and Differences with delight, compo&s;ing their Quar|rels, and making him&s;elf the Arbtitator of their Di&s;putes, without any re&s;pect to his Grandeur and Magnificence. He never for&s;ook the Inte|re&s;ts of his People, but referr'd their Affairs to the Debates and Deci&s;ions of Men of Ju&s;tice and Equity. After he had taken &s;uch good Order for the Government of his Dominions, he liv'd in Tranquility, and &s;pent his Days with Hap|pine&s;s and Content. One day that he had been entertain d with diver&s;e Di&s;cour&s;es upon &s;eve|ral Sciences, he laid him&s;elf down upon his Bed, to give &s;ome relaxation to his Mind: Which he had no &s;ooner done, but he &s;aw in a Dream a certain Figure full of Light and Maje|&s;ty, which &s;pake to him the&s;e Words, <HI>You have done this day a good Action for the &s;ake of God, and you &s;hall be rewarded for it. To morrow, by break of day, get a Hor&s;eback, and ride toward the Ea&s;t, where you &s;hall find an ine&s;timable Trea&s;ure, by the means of which you &s;hall exceed all other Men.</HI> Pre&s;ently <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> awoke, and &s;et him&s;elf to con&s;ider of this va&s;t Trea&s;ure.</P>
<P>By break of day he mounted one of his mo&s;t beautiful Hor&s;es, which he order'd to be har|ne&s;s'd with Saddles of Gold, and Bridles all Enamell'd, and away he rid directly Ea&s;t-ward.
<PB N="7" REF="11">He rode through &s;everal Inhabited places, and at length arriv'd in a De&s;ert, where Viewing the Country, and ca&s;ting his Eyes on every &s;ide, to di&s;cover his expected Happine&s;s, he per|ceiv'd a very high Mountain, that reach'd a|bove the Clouds, at the Foot of which he &s;py'd a Cave ob&s;cure and dark, and black within as the Hearts of wicked Men. At the &s;ame time, he &s;aw &s;itting without a Man, who&s;e A|&s;pect alone &s;ufficiently &s;hew'd the au&s;terity of his Life. The King had a great de&s;ire to ride up to him, when the old Man under&s;tanding his Intention, and breaking &s;ilence, Sir, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> tho' my &s;mall Cottage be nothing like to your magnificent Palace, yet it is an Ancient Cu&s;tom, for Kings, out of their Goodne&s;s, to come and vi&s;it the Poor. The looks of great Men ca&s;t down upon the Poor augment their Grandeur. <HI>Solomon</HI> in the mid&s;t of all his Glory and Magnificence vouch&s;af'd to ca&s;t his Eyes upon the little Emets.</P>
<P><HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> was pleas'd with the old Mans Civility, and alighted from his Hor&s;e, to di&s;|cour&s;e him; and after he had talk'd to him of diver&s;e things, the King was going to take his leave of the old Man, who made him this Com|plement; Sir, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> 'tis not for a poor Man as I am, to offer any refre&s;hment to &s;o Potent a Prince as You are; But I have a Pre&s;ent, if your Maje&s;ty plea&s;es to accept it, which has de&s;cended to me from Father to Son, and which is appointed for you. This Pre&s;ent is a Trea&s;ure which I have here by me; if your Maje&s;ty thinks it worth your Acceptance, com|mand your Servants to &s;eek for it. <HI>Dab&s;chelim,</HI> hearing the&s;e Words, recounted his Dream to
<PB N="8" REF="12">the good old Man, who rejoic'd extreamly to find that his intentions were conformable to the Will of God.</P>
<P>Upon this, the King commanded his Ser|vants to &s;earch for the Trea&s;ure round about the Cave, and in a little time they di&s;cover'd what they &s;ought for; and &s;hew'd the King &s;everal Che&s;ts and Coffers full of Gold, Sil|ver and Jewels. But among the re&s;t of the Che&s;ts there was one of a &s;maller &s;ize which was bound about with &s;everal Bars of Iron, and environ'd with &s;everal Padlocks, the Keys of which were not to be found, notwith&s;tanding all the Care and Diligence that was us'd to &s;eek 'em out. This increas'd the Kings Curio&s;ity: There mu&s;t be &s;omthing, &s;aid he, within this little Casket, much more precious than Jewels, &s;ince it is &s;o &s;trongly, and &s;o heedfully Barr'd and Lockt. Pre&s;ently a Smith was &s;ent for, and the Casket being broken open, there was found within it another &s;mall Trunk of Gold, &s;et all o|ver with precious Stones, and within that, another le&s;&s;er Box, which the King order'd to deliver'd into his hands. So &s;oon as this little Box was o|pen'd, he found therein a piece of white Sattin, upon which were written &s;ome Lines in the <HI>Syriac</HI> Language. <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> was a&s;toni&s;h'd at the Accident, and in great perplexity to know what the words might &s;ignifie. Some &s;aid, it was the name of the Owner of the Trea&s;ure: Others, that it was a <HI>Tali&s;man</HI> or &s;ome Charm for the Pre&s;ervation of the Trea&s;ure. But af|ter every one had deliver'd his Opinion, 'twas the Kings Plea&s;ure that inquiry &s;hould be made for &s;ome Per&s;on who was able to Interpret the meaning of the Lines. At length after long
<PB N="9" REF="12">&s;earch a Per&s;on was found who under&s;tood Foreign Languages, who after he had read the Writing, Sir, <HI>&s;aid he to the King,</HI> This Writing contains a great many Exhortations, which are the&s;e that follow.</P>
<P>I, King <HI>Hou&s;chenk,</HI> have di&s;pos'd of this Trea&s;ure for the Great King <HI>Dab&s;chelim,</HI> un|der&s;tanding, by divine Revelation, Him to be the Per&s;on for whom it is de&s;ign'd. But among the Precious Stones, I have conceal'd my la&s;t Will and Te&s;tament, by way of In&s;truction, and to let him know that it is not for Men of Rea&s;on and Under&s;tanding, to be dazl'd with the lu&s;ter of glittering Trea&s;ures. Riches are but borrow'd Conveniences; which are to be repay'd to our Succe&s;&s;ours. The Plea&s;ures of this World, that are &s;o Charming, however are not Eternal This Te&s;tament is an Abridg|ment to regulate the Conduct of Kings, and he mu&s;t be a Wi&s;e Prince who follows the&s;e In|&s;tructions. Who ever &s;hall de&s;pi&s;e 'em and re|fu&s;e to follow 'em, according to what is con|tain'd under the&s;e fourteen Heads, let him be a&s;&s;ur'd of lo&s;ing his Empire.</P>
<P>The Fir&s;t Admonition is, that he never di&s;card his Dome&s;tic Servants at the Sollicitation of another. For he that is near the Per&s;on of a King &s;hall never want per&s;ons who will be al|ways envious and jealous of his Happine&s;s; who when they &s;ee that the King has any Affection for him, cea&s;e not by a thou&s;and Calumnies to render him odious to his Ma&s;ter.</P>
<P>The Second is, that he never &s;uffer in his Company Flatterers nor Backbiters, for they are always &s;eeking occa&s;ions of Di&s;turbance.
<PB N="10" REF="13">'Tis better to Exterminate &s;uch People, than to let 'em be a trouble to Human Society.</P>
<P>The Third, that he always pre&s;erve his Mi|ni&s;ters and Grandees in a right Under&s;tanding one of another, to the end they may Unani|mou&s;ly labour the Pre&s;ervation of the State.</P>
<P>The Fourth, that he never tru&s;t to the &s;ubmi&s;|&s;ions of his Enemies. The more affection they te&s;tifie, and the louder Prote&s;tations they make of their &s;ervice, the more their Artifices are to be mi&s;tru&s;ted. There is no relying upon the Friend&s;hip of an Enemy: He is to be &s;hun'd, when he approaches with the Countenance of a Friend, as dry Wood &s;huns a well kindl'd Fire.</P>
<P>The Fifth, when a Man has once acquir'd what he has diligently &s;ought after, he ought to pre&s;erve it carefully, &s;eeing we have not every Day the &s;ame opportunity to gain it, and when we have not pre&s;erv'd what we have acquir'd, we have nothing left us but the Vexa|tion to have lo&s;t it. We cannot fetch the Ar|row back which we have once let fly, tho' we &s;hould eat our Fingers for madne&s;s.</P>
<P>The Sixth is, that we never ought to be two ha&s;ty in Bu&s;ine&s;s, but on the other &s;ide, before we put any enterprize in Execution, it be|hoveth us to weigh and Examin what we are are going to do. Things done in ha&s;t and with a precipitate Ra&s;hne&s;s, come to a Mi&s;|chievous Conclu&s;ion. A Man may do that which was never done before, but he repents in vain who has done ami&s;s.</P>
<P>The Seventh is, that He never de&s;pi&s;e Good Coun&s;el and Prudence: If there be a nece&s;&s;ity for him to make Peace with &s;ome Enemies,
<PB N="11" REF="13">to deliver him&s;elf out of their Hands, let him do it without delay.</P>
<P>The Eighth is, to avoy'd the Company of Di&s;&s;emblers, and never to hearken to their glozing Speeches; for &s;eeing that in their Bo|&s;oms they carry nothing but the Plants of Eni|mity, they can never bring forth the Fruits of real Friend&s;hip.</P>
<P>The Ninth is, to be merciful, and never to puni&s;h his Servants for a &s;light Fault committed through Infirmity. For a Merciful Prince up|on Earth, is an Angel in Heaven. They ought to con&s;ider the Weakne&s;s of Men, and in cha|rity and goodne&s;s to conceal their Defects. Subjects have always committed Faults, and Kings have always pardon'd 'em, when they have only committed the Faults of Subjects.</P>
<P>The Tenth is, not to procure the Harm of any Per&s;on; on the other-&s;ide, we ought to do our Neighbour all the Good we can. If you do Good, Good will be done to you; But if you do Evil, the &s;ame will be Mea&s;ur'd to you.</P>
<P>The Eleventh is, not to &s;eek after any thing that may be contrary to his Dignity. There are many Per&s;ons who let alone their own Affairs, and intrude them&s;elves into other peo|ples Bu&s;ine&s;s, and at la&s;t do nothing at all. The Crow would needs learn to Fly like the Partridge, and it was a way of Flying, which he could never attain; and &s;o he forgot his own.</P>
<P>The Twelfth is, to be of a Mild and Affable Humour. Mildne&s;s in Society is like Salt in Victuals; as Salt &s;ea&s;ons and gives a reli&s;h to our Meat, the other gives Content to every
<PB N="12" REF="14">Body: The Sword of Iron is not &s;o &s;harp as the Sword of Mildne&s;s; it vanqui&s;hes Invinci|ble Armies.</P>
<P>The Thirteenth is, to have Faithful Ser|vants, and never to admit of Knaves and De|ceivers. By this means the Kingdom will be &s;afe, and the Kings Secrets will never be reveal'd.</P>
<P>The Fourteenth and the la&s;t is, never to be di&s;turb'd at the Accidents of this World. A Man of Spirit and Re&s;olution &s;uffers all manner of Adver&s;ities, and relies upon the Providence of God. A Fool minds nothing but his Pa&s;time and his Plea&s;ures.</P>
<P>There are &s;everal Stories upon every one of the&s;e Heads, which if the King will be plea&s;'d to hear, he mu&s;t go to the Mountain <HI>Serandib,</HI> which was the Man&s;ion of our Father <HI>Abraham,</HI> and there all his Doubts and Difficult Que&s;tions will be unfolded, and his intentions accom|pli&s;h'd. God grant us Peace.</P>
<P>When the Learned Man had done reading, <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> embrac'd him, and having receiv'd back again the piece of Sattin, which he took with great re&s;pect, he ty'd it about his Arm, &s;ay|ing at the &s;ame time, I was promis'd a Worldly Trea&s;ure, and I have found a Trea&s;ure of Se|crets. God has favour'd me with Plenty of his Ble&s;&s;ings; and pre&s;ently he order'd the Gold and Silver to be di&s;tributed to the Poor, to the end his Charity might be &s;erviceable to procure the repo&s;e of King <HI>Hou&s;chenk</HI>'s Soul; and ha|ving &s;o done, he return'd to his Capital City, and went to his Palace, where all that Night he did nothing but ruminate upon the Journey which he was to make to <HI>Serandib.</HI></P>
<PB N="13" REF="14">
<P>The next Morning by Sun-ri&s;e, <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> &s;ent for two of his Principal Mini&s;ters, in whom he had a great Confidence. To them he di&s;co|ver'd his Dream, and what had afterwards be|fallen him, and told 'em he had a great de&s;ire to take a Progre&s;s to <HI>Serandib.</HI> I have a|long time, <HI>&s;aid he to 'em,</HI> taken this cour&s;e to Advi&s;e with my Coun&s;el before I undertook any of my Enterpri&s;es, and now I am willing to refer my &s;elf wholly to your Judgments, what you think fitting for me to do upon this Occa&s;ion. The two Mini&s;ters de&s;ir'd the Remainder of the Day and the Night follow|ing, to examin the Affair, and after due Con|&s;ideration to return their An&s;wer. <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> granted their Reque&s;t, and the next Day they came to wait upon the King, and every one being &s;eated in their Places, &s;o &s;oon as the King had made 'em the &s;ign to &s;peak, the Grand Vi&s;ir fell upon his Knees and thus began.</P>
<P>Sir, <HI>In my Opinion this Journey will be more painful than profitable, becau&s;e that Per&s;on who undertakes long Journeys renounces at the &s;ame time all manner of Repo&s;e. Your Maje&s;ty is not Ignorant of the Dangers and Hazards to which the Roads are Subject. 'Tis not then for a Man of Di&s;cretion to change his Quiet and Ea&s;e for Labour and Di&s;turbance; it rather behoves him to call to Remembrance the Fable of the Pigeon that would needs be a Traveller, and the Dangers which he met with.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="14" REF="15">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Travelling Pigeon.</HEAD>
<P>SIR, <HI>&s;aid the Vi&s;ir,</HI> there were two Pigeons that liv'd happily together in their Ne&s;ts, &s;afely &s;helter'd from all the injuries of the Wea|ther, and contented with a little Water and a few Tares. 'Tis a Trea&s;ure to live in a De&s;ert when we enjoy the happine&s;s of a Friend; and there is no lo&s;s in quitting for the &s;ake of &s;uch a one, all other company in the World. But it &s;eems, that De&s;tiny has no other Bu&s;ine&s;s in this World, than to &s;eparate Friends. One of the&s;e Pigeons was call<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d the <HI>Beloved;</HI> the o|ther, the <HI>Lover.</HI> One day the <HI>Beloved,</HI> having an eager de&s;ire to Travel imparted his de&s;ign to his Companion. Mu&s;t we be always, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> confin'd to a Hole? For my part, I am re|&s;olv'd to take a Tour about the World. Tra|vellers every day meet with new things, and acquire Experience; and great and learned Men have told us, that Travelling was the only means to acquire that Knowledge which we want and &s;tand in need of. If the Sword be never un&s;heath'd, it can never &s;hew the Valour of the Per&s;on that Wears it; and if the Pen takes not it's Run through the Extent of a Page, it can never &s;hew the Eloquence of the Author <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">&s;es i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">. The Heavens; by rea&s;on of their <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">tual Motion, exceed the Regions beneath <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">d the Earth is the &s;olid Place for all <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">res<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter"> to tread upon, becau&s;e it is Im|<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">ble. If a Tree could remove it &s;elf from <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">lace to another, 'twould never be afraid <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1+ letters">aw, nor the Wedge, nor would be
<PB N="15" REF="15">expos'd to the ill u&s;age of the Wood-mon|gers.</P>
<P>All this is true, <HI>&s;aid the</HI> Lover; but my dear Companion, you have never undergone the Fatigues of Travel, nor do you under&s;tand what it is to live in Foreign Countries. Tra|velling is a Tree of which the chiefe&s;t Fruit is Labour and Di&s;quiet. If the Fatigues of Tra|velling are very great, An&s;wer'd the <HI>Beloved,</HI> they are abundantly rewarded with the plea&s;ure of &s;eeing a thou&s;and Rarities; and when people are accu&s;tom'd to Labour they never look upon it to be any Hard&s;hip.</P>
<P>Travelling, <HI>reply'd the</HI> Lover, is never de|lightful, but when you Travel in Company of your Friends: For when we are at a far Di|&s;tance from 'em; be&s;ides that we are expos'd to the injuries of the Weather, we are griev'd to find our &s;elves &s;eparated from the Per&s;ons that we Love: And therefore never leave the Place where you live at ea&s;e, nor for&s;ake the Object of your deare&s;t Affection.</P>
<P>If I find the&s;e Hard&s;hips un&s;upportable, <HI>reply'd the</HI> Beloved, I will return in a little time. Now after they had thus rea&s;on'd the Ca&s;e to|gether, they went to their Re&s;t, and meeting the next Morning, they took their Leaves of each other, and &s;o parted.</P>
<P>The <HI>Beloved</HI> left his Hole, like a Bird that has made his e&s;cape out of a Cage; and nothing pleas'd him better than the Pro&s;pect of the Mountains and Gardens which he flew over; and when he was arriv'd at the foot of a little Hill, where &s;everal Rivolets &s;haded with love|ly Trees water'd the charming Meadows, he re&s;olv'd to &s;pend the Night in a Place that
<PB N="16" REF="16">&s;o effectually re&s;embl'd a Terre&s;trial Paradi&s;e. But hardly had he betaken him&s;elf to his Re|po&s;e upon a Tree, when the Air grew gloomy, and the &s;wift Hurls of Lightning began to fla&s;h again&s;t his Eyes, while the Thunder rattled through the Plains at the &s;ame time. The Rain al&s;o, and the Hail caus'd the poor Pigeon to hop from Bow to Bow. In &s;hort, he &s;pent the Night &s;o ill, that he repented his having left his Comrade.</P>
<P>The next Morning, the Sun having di&s;pers'd the Clouds, the <HI>Beloved</HI> departed with a re&s;olu|tion to return Home, when a Sparrow-hawk, having a keen Appetite, and perceiv|ing our Traveller, pur&s;u'd him upon the Wing. The Pigeon &s;eeing him at a di&s;tance fell a trembling, and utterly de&s;pairing to &s;ee his Friend again, and no le&s;s &s;orry that he had not follow'd his Advice, prote&s;ted that if ever he e&s;cap'd that Danger, he would never think of Trevelling more. In the mean time the Spar|row-hawk overtook him, and was ju&s;t ready to &s;eize him, and tear him in Peices, when a hungry Eagle who&s;e Claws no other Bird of Prey could e&s;cape, lancing down with a full Stoop upon the Sparrow-hawk, Hold, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> let me devour that Pigeon to &s;tay my Stomach, till I find &s;omthing el&s;e more Solid. The Sparrow-hawk no le&s;s Couragious than hungry, would not give way to the Eagle, and &s;o the two Birds of Prey fell to Fighting one with another. In the mean time the Pi|geon e&s;cap'd, and perceiving a Hole &s;o &s;mall that would hardly give entrance to a Tit|mou&s;e, he made a &s;hift to &s;lip in, and &s;o &s;pent the Night in a World of fear and Trouble.
<PB N="17" REF="16">By break of Day he got out again, but he was become &s;o weak for want of Food that he could hardly fly. More then that, he had hardly recover'd him&s;elf from the fear he was in the day before, but as he was looking round a|bout him to &s;ee whether the Sparrow-hawk or the Eagle appear'd, he &s;py'd a Pigeon in a Field with a great deal of Corn &s;catter'd in the Place where he was feeding. The <HI>Beloved</HI> drew near this happy Pigeon as he thought him, and without Complements fell to: But he had hardly peckt above three or four Grains but he found him&s;elf caught by the Legs. For the Plea&s;ures of this World are but Snares which the Devil lays for us.</P>
<P>Brother, <HI>&s;aid the</HI> Beloved <HI>to the Pigeon,</HI> we are both of one and the &s;ame Species; where|fore did not you inform me of this peice of Treachery, for then I &s;hould not have fallen into the&s;e Springes they have lay'd for us. To which the other An&s;wer'd, Forbear this Lan|guage; there is no body can prevent his De|&s;tiny; nor can all the Prudence of Man pre|&s;erve him from inevitable Accident. There|upon the <HI>Beloved</HI> be&s;ought him to teach him &s;ome Expedient proper to free him&s;elf from the danger that threatned him. Poor inno|cent Creature, <HI>An&s;wer'd the other,</HI> If I knew any means, you might be &s;ure I would make u&s;e of it to deliver my &s;elf, that &s;o I might not be the Occa&s;ion of &s;urprizing others of my fellow Creatures. Like the young Camel, who weary with Travelling, cry'd to his Mother with Tears in his Eyes, O Mother without affection, &s;top a little, that I may take Breath and re&s;t my
<PB N="18" REF="17">&s;elf: To whom the Mother, O Son without con&s;ideration, <HI>&s;aid &s;he,</HI> &s;ee&s;t thou not that my Bridle is in the Hands of another; were I at liberty I would throw down my Burthen and give thee my A&s;&s;i&s;tance: At length therefore our Traveller, &s;trengthen'd by his own De|&s;pair, with much &s;triving and long fluttering broke the Net, and taking the benefit of his unexpected good Fortune, bent his Flight to|ward his own Country: And &s;uch was his Joy for having e&s;cap'd &s;o great a Danger, that he forgot his Hunger. However pa&s;&s;ing through a Village, and lighting upon a Wall that was over again&s;t a Field newly &s;own, a Country Man that was keeping the Birds from his Corn, perceiving the Pigeon, &s;lung a Stone at him, dreaming nothing le&s;s than of the Harm that was &s;o near him, and hit him &s;o terrible a Blow, that he fell almo&s;t quite &s;tun'd into a deep and dry Well, that was at the Foot of the Wall; &s;o that the Country Man not being able to come at his Prey, left it in the Well and never thought more of it. There the Pigeon remain'd all the Night long with a &s;ad Heart, and his Wing half broken. He wi&s;h'd him&s;elf a thou&s;and times at home with his Friend; and the next Day &s;o be&s;tir'd him|&s;elf, that he got out of the Well and arriv'd at his own Hole.</P>
<P>The <HI>Lover</HI> hearing the fluttering of his Com|panions Wings, flew forth with a more than ordinary joy to meet him; but &s;eeing him &s;o weak and in &s;o bad a condition, ask'd him the rea&s;on of it: Upon which the <HI>Beloved</HI> up and told him all his Adventures, prote&s;ting withal to &s;tay at home and never to Travel more.</P>
<PB N="19" REF="17">
<P>I have recited this Example to your Ma|je&s;ty, to di&s;&s;uade you from preferring the Inconveniences of Travelling, before the Re|po&s;e that you enjoy. Wi&s;e Vi&s;ir, <HI>&s;aid the King,</HI> I mu&s;t acknowledge it a painful thing to Travel; but 'tis no le&s;s true, that there is great Profit, and u&s;eful Knowledge to be gain'd by it. Should a Man be always ty'd to his own Home or his own Coun|try, he would be depriv'd the Sight and En|joyment of an infinite Number of noble things. Your Falcons are valu'd becau&s;e Princes frequently carry 'em upon their Fi&s;ts, and for that they quit the lazy Life which they lead in their Ne&s;ts. On the other &s;ide, Owls are contemn'd, becau&s;e they always hide them|&s;elves in Ruinous Buildings and Dark Holes, and delight in nothing but Retirement. The Mind of Man ought to fly a broad and &s;ore like the Falcon, not to hide it &s;elf like the Owl. He that Travels renders him&s;elf ac|ceptable to all the World, and Men of Wit and Learning are pleas'd with his Conver&s;ation. There is nothing more Clear and Limpid than Running-water, but Standing Waters grow Thick and Muddy. Had the Falcon that was bred in the Ravens Ne&s;t, never flown a|broad, he would never have been &s;o highly ad|vanc'd. <HI>&V;pon which the Vi&s;ir be&s;ought the King to recite that Fable, which he did in the follow|ing manner.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="20" REF="18">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Falcon and the Raven.</HEAD>
<P>THere were two Falcons which had built their Ne&s;ts in a very High Mountain, from whence they flew every way round 'em to &s;eek Food for their young ones. One day that they were flown abroad upon the &s;ame de&s;ign, they &s;tay'd from their Ne&s;ts a little too long. For in that time one of the Young ones, very hungry, put his Head &s;o far out of the Ne&s;t that he fell from the Top to the Foot of the Mountain; at what in&s;tant a Raven that happen'd to be in that part met with it. At fir&s;t he took it for a Rat which &s;ome other Ra|ven had let fall, but finding by his Beak and his Talons that he was a Bird of Prey, he be|gan to have a kindne&s;s for it; and looking up|on him&s;elf as an In&s;trument ordain'd by Hea|v'n to &s;ave the Helple&s;s Bird, he carry'd it to his own Ne&s;t, and bred it up with his own Young ones. Thus the Falcon grew every day big|ger and bigger, and coming at length to be of Age to make Reflexions, he &s;aid to him&s;elf, If I am Brother to the&s;e Ravens, why am I not made as they are? But if I am not of their Race and Progeny, what do I tarry here for? One day that he was taken up with the&s;e Me|ditations, Son, <HI>&s;aid the Raven to him,</HI> I have ob&s;erv'd thee for &s;ome time to be very Sad and Pen&s;ive; I would fain know the Cau&s;e of it: If any thing grieve thee, conceal it not from me, for I will endeavour thy Relief and Con|&s;olation. I know not the Rea&s;on my &s;elf, re|ply'd the Falcon; but I was re&s;olv d to beg
<PB N="21" REF="18">your Permi&s;&s;ion to Travel, in hopes thereby to di&s;&s;ipate my Melancholy. Oh Son, <HI>cry'd the Raven,</HI> thou art forming a De&s;ign i'thy Pate, that will create thee an infinite deal of Pains and Care. Travelling is a kind of Sea that &s;wallows up all the World. People never Travel, unle&s;s it be either to get great E&s;tates, or el&s;e becau&s;e they cannot live Contented and Ea&s;ie at Home: And neither of the&s;e two Rea&s;ons, thanks to Heaven, can have infus'd this De&s;ign into thy Brain, becau&s;e thou want'&s;t for nothing. Thou ha&s;t the Ab&s;olute Command over thy Brothers and Si&s;ters: 'Tis a great Folly therefore in thee to quit an a&s;&s;ur'd Repo&s;e at Home, to Ramble in &s;earch of Trouble and Di&s;quiet in Foreign Countries. To this the Falcon, Sir, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> what you tell me is very true, and I take it for a demon|&s;tration of your Parternal Kindne&s;s; but I feel in my &s;elf &s;omthing that per&s;uades me that I lead a Life here in this Place, not worthy of my &s;elf. Then the Raven under&s;tood, that in de&s;pite of a Bad Education, per&s;ons Nobly de&s;cended are &s;till the Ma&s;ters of Sentiments becoming their Birth. The Raven would have put him upon other Di&s;cour&s;e, and to that pur|po&s;e, Son, <HI>&s;aid he,</HI> my Exhortations are per|&s;ua&s;ions to Sobriety, but thofe High &s;oaring Thoughts of thine, are only the Effects of A|varice. For know that whoever is not content|ed with what he has, can never be at quiet in his mind, and becau&s;e I find thou art not &s;a|tisfy'd with thy Condition I am afraid le&s;t what befel the Greedy and Ambitious Cat will befal thee al&s;o. <HI>The Story is this.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="22" REF="19">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Greedy and Ambitious Cat.</HEAD>
<P>THere was formerly an Old Woman ex|treamly Gaunt and Meagre, that liv'd in a little Cottage as dark and gloomy as a Fools Heart, and as clo&s;e &s;hut up as a Mi&s;er's Hand. She had a Cat that never &s;aw any other than the likene&s;s of Bread, never beheld the face of a Stranger, and was forc d to be contented with only &s;melling the Mice in their Holes, or to &s;ee the Prints of their Feets in the Du&s;t; or if by &s;ome extraordinary lucky Chance &s;he happen'd to catch a Mou&s;e, &s;he was like a Beg|gar that di&s;covers a Trea&s;ure; her Vi&s;age and her Eyes were enflam'd with Joy, and that Booty &s;erv'd her for a whole Week together; and out of the Exce&s;s of her Admiration, &s;he would cry to her &s;elf, Heav'ns! Is this a Dream, or is it Real? Neverthele&s;s, becau&s;e the Cottage was &s;till the Man&s;ion of Famin for Cats, &s;he &s;till bewail'd her Wants. One day ready to dye for Hunger &s;he got upon the ridge of her Enchanted Ca&s;tle, and &s;py d from thence another Cat, that was &s;talking upon a Neigh|bours Wall like a Lion, and walking along as if &s;he had been counting her Steps, and &s;o Fat that &s;he could hardly go. The Old Wo|man's Cat, a&s;toni&s;h'd to &s;ee a Creature of her own Species, &s;o Plump and &s;o Large, with a loud Voice, Hark ye me, <HI>&s;aid &s;he to her pur&s;ey Neighbour,</HI> You look as if you came from one of the Khan of <HI>Kathai's</HI> Fea&s;ts; I conjure ye, to tell me how you came to have your Skin &s;o
<PB N="23" REF="19">well &s;tuft? At a Kings Table, reply'd the Fat Pu&s;s; I go to the Hou&s;e every Day about Din|ner time, and there I lay my Paws upon &s;ome good Mor&s;el or other, which &s;erves me till the next day. The Lean Cat enquir'd the Way to the Hou&s;e, and de&s;ir'd the Plump Cat to carry her one day along with her. Mo&s;t willingly, <HI>&s;aid the Fat Pu&s;s,</HI> for thou art &s;o Lean that I pity thy Condition. Upon this promi&s;e they parted; and the Lean Cat return'd to the Old Woman's Chamber, where &s;he told her Dame the whole Story of what had befallen her. The Old Woman endeavour'd to di&s;&s;uade her Cat from pro&s;ecuting her De&s;ign, admoni&s;hing her withal to have a care of being deceiv'd; for, <HI>&s;aid &s;he,</HI> the De&s;ires of the Ambitious are never to be &s;atiated, but when their Mouths are &s;tuff'd with the Dirt of their Graves. So|briety and Temperance are the only things that enrich a Man. I mu&s;t tell thee, Poor &s;illy Cat, that they who Travel to &s;atisfie their Ambition, have no Knowledge of Good Things nor are they truly thankful to Heaven for what they enjoy, who are not contented with their For|tune.</P>
<P>But the Lean Cat had conceiv'd &s;o fair an Idea of the Kings Table, that all the Old Womans Judicious Remon&s;trances enter'd in at one Ear and out at t'other, in &s;hort; &s;he de|parted the next day with the Fat Pu&s;s to go to the Kings Hou&s;e; but before &s;he got thither, her De&s;tiny had laid a Snare for Her. For be|ing a Hou&s;e of good Chear, it was &s;o haunted with Cats that the Servants had orders to kill all the Cats that came near it, by rea&s;on of a great Robbery committed in the Kings Lard|er
<PB N="24" REF="20">the Night before by &s;everal Grey Malkins. However the old. Woman's Cat believing her &s;elf out of Danger, no &s;ooner &s;aw a di&s;h of Meat unob&s;erv'd by the Cooks, but &s;he took Livery and Seizinof it; but as &s;he was enjoying her &s;elf under the Dre&s;&s;er-board, and feeding heartily upon her &s;tollen Mor&s;els, one of the Te&s;ty Officers of the Kitchin, mi&s;&s;ing his Meat, and &s;eeing where the Cat was Solacing her &s;elf with the Kings Me&s;s, threw his Knife at the Cat with &s;uch an unlucky hand, that he &s;tuck her full i the Brea&s;t. However, as a Cat has Nine Lives, the Cat made a &s;hift to get away for all that. But, in her flight ob&s;erving the Blood come &s;treaming from her Wound, well <HI>&s;aid &s;he,</HI> let me but e&s;cape this Accident, and if ever I quit my old Hold and my own Mice for all the Rarities i'the Kings Kitchin, may I lo&s;e all my Nine Lives at once.</P>
<P>I cite you this Example to &s;hew you, that 'tis better for a Man to be contented with what he has, than to Travel in &s;earch of what our Ambition prompts us to. What you &s;ay, <HI>&s;aid the Falcon,</HI> is very true and very whole&s;ome Advice; but 'tis for mean and low Spirits to confine them&s;elves always to a little Hole. He that a&s;pires to be a King, mu&s;t begin with the Conque&s;t of a Kingdom, and he that will meet a Crown, mu&s;t go in Search of it. An Effeminate and Lazy Life agrees not with a Great Soul.</P>
<P>Thy Enterprize, <HI>reply'd the Raven,</HI> cannot &s;o &s;oon be put in Execution: before you can Conquer a Kingdom, you mu&s;t make great Preparations. My Talons, <HI>reply'd the Falcon,</HI>
<PB N="25" REF="20">are In&s;truments &s;ufficient to bring about my De&s;ign. Did you never hear the Story of the Warrier, who by his &s;ingle Valour became a King? Upon that the Raven reque&s;ted his re|puted Son to let him hear it, and the Raven thus proceeded.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Poor Man that became a King.</HEAD>
<P>IT being the Plea&s;ure of Heaven to re&s;cue from Mi&s;ery a Man who liv'd in extream Poverty, God gave him a Son, who from his Infancy gave &s;ignal Signs, that he would one day come to be a Great Man. This Infant became a Ble&s;&s;ing to the old Man's Hou&s;e, who&s;e Wealth increas'd from Day to Day, from the time that the Child was Born. So &s;oon as he could &s;peak, he talk'd of nothing but Swords, Bows and Arrows. His Father &s;ent him to School, and did all he could to infu&s;e into him a good Reli&s;h of Learning; but he neglected his Book, and minded nothing but running at the Ring, and other Warlick Exerci&s;es with other little Children.</P>
<P>When he came to Years of Di&s;cretion, Son, &s;aid his Father to him, thou art now pa&s;t the Age of Innocentcy, and in danger to fall into Di&s;order and Irregularity, if thou giv'&s;t thy &s;elf over to thy Pa&s;&s;ions. But I intend to pre|vent that Accident by Marrying thee betimes. Dear Father, reply'd the young Stripling, for Heaven's &s;ake refu&s;e me not the Mi&s;tre&s;s which my Youthful Years already have made choice
<PB N="26" REF="21">of. Where is that Mi&s;tre&s;s, pre&s;ently reply'd the old Man, and what is her Condition? This is &s;he, the Lad made an&s;wer, &s;hewing his Fa|ther a very noble Sword; by Vertue of this it is, that I expect to be Ma&s;ter of a Throne. And having &s;o &s;aid, the next Day he quitted his Father's Hou&s;e, and Travell'd in &s;earch of Op|portunities to &s;ignalize his Courage, and at length perform'd &s;o many glorious Atchiev|ments, that he became a Pui&s;&s;ant Monarch.</P>
<P>I have recited this Example, &s;aid the Falcon to the Raven, to the end you may under&s;tand that I find my &s;elf born to undertake Great En|terprizes: And I have a &s;trange foreboding Spirit within me, that I &s;hall prove no le&s;s fortunate then this Famous Warriour: And for this rea&s;on I will never quit my De&s;ign. When the Raven perceiv'd him &s;o fix'd in his Re&s;olu|tion, he con&s;ented to his putting it in Execution: Per&s;uaded that &s;o noble a Courage would never be guilty of ba&s;e Actions.</P>
<P>The Falcon having taken his Leave of the Raven, and bid Farewel to all his pretended Brethen, left the Ne&s;t and flew away. At length he &s;topt upon a Mountain, and looking round about him, he &s;py'd a Partridge in the Fallow Grounds that made all the Neighbour|ing Hills re&s;ound with her Churring and Jouk|ing Nore. Pre&s;ently the Falcon launc'd him|&s;elf upon her, and having got her in his Pounce, began to tear her. This is no Bad beginning, &s;aid He to him&s;elf, and tho' it were for no|thing el&s;e but to ta&s;t &s;uch delicate Food, 'tis better worth my Travelling then to lye Sleeping in a na&s;ty Ne&s;t, and feed upon Carrion as my Brothers do. Thus he &s;pent three Days in
<PB N="27" REF="21">Care&s;&s;ing him&s;elf with delicate Mor&s;els; but the fourth Day, being upon the Top of another Mountain, he &s;aw a Company of Men that were a Hunting, which happen'd to be the King of the Country with all his Court; and while he was gazing upon 'em, he faw a Fal|con in pur&s;uit of a Heron. Upon that, prick'd forward by a Noble Emulation, he flies with all his Force, gets before the Falcon, and o|vertakes the Heron. The King admiring this Agility, commands his Falconers to make u&s;e of all their cunning to catch this Falcon, which by good luck they did. And in a little time he &s;o entirely won the Affection of the King, that he did him the Honour to carry him u&s;ual|ly upon his Fi&s;t.</P>
<P>Had he always &s;tay'd in his Ne&s;t, this Good Fortune had never befall'n Him. You &s;ee by this Fable, that it is no &s;uch unprofitable thing to Travel. It rou&s;es the Genius of Stupid Peo|ple, and renders 'em capable of Noble At|chievments. <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> having ended his Di&s;|cour&s;e, the Vi&s;ir, after he had made his &s;ub|mi&s;&s;ions, and pay'd his Duty according to Cu|&s;tom, came forward, and then addre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to the King, Sir, &s;aid He, what your Maje&s;ty has &s;aid is very true, but methinks it is not &s;o convenient that a Great King &s;hould quit his repo&s;e for the Hard&s;hip of Travelling. Men of Courage, an&s;wer'd the King, delight in Labour and Fatigue. If Kings, who have Power, &s;trip not the Thorns from the Ro&s;e-Bu&s;hes, the Poor can never gather the Ro&s;es; and till Princes have endur'd the Inconveniences of Campagnes, the People can never &s;leep in Peace. No Body can be &s;afe in the&s;e Domini|ons,
<PB N="28" REF="22">while thou &s;eeke&s;t nothing but thy Ea&s;e. He that Travels meets with Re&s;t, like the Leopard, who by his pains and his Diligence acquir'd what he wi&s;ht for. Upon that, the Vi&s;ir be&s;ought the King to relate the Fable to his Slave.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Leopard and the Lyon.</HEAD>
<P>IN the Neighbourhood to <HI>Ba&s;&s;ora,</HI> there was a very lovely I&s;land: In this I&s;land grew a mo&s;t delightful Wood, where plea&s;ing Breezes whi&s;per'd their Love-Stories to the Ru&s;ling Leaves; and it was Water'd with &s;everal Foun|tains, whence as many recreating Streams ran gently winding to every part. There, lodg'd a Leopard &s;o Furious, that the mo&s;t daring Lyo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s dur&s;t not approach within a League of his Habitation. He liv'd for &s;everal Years in Peace within his I&s;land with a little Leopard that was his Minion. To whom, Son, &s;aid He, &s;o &s;oon as thou &s;halt be &s;trong enough to oppo&s;e my Enemies, I will re&s;ign to thee the Care of Governing this I&s;land, and retire into one Corner of it, where I will &s;pend the remainder of my Days, without Trouble or Mole&s;tation. But D<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">th cro&s;t the Old Leopard's De&s;ign: He dy'd when he lea&s;t dreamt of it, and the Young Leopard &s;ucceeded him. But the Ancient Ene|mies of the Old Leopard no &s;ooner heard of his Death, and the Weakne&s;s of his Succe&s;&s;or, but they enter'd into a League, and altogether in|vaded the I&s;land. The Young Leopard find|ing him&s;elf unable to with&s;tand &s;uch a number
<PB N="29" REF="22">of Enemies, made his E&s;cape into the De&s;erts, and there &s;ecur'd him&s;elf. In the mean time his Enemies having made them&s;elves Ma&s;ters of the I&s;land, every one would command in Chief. Thus they fell out, and being Divided, the Bu&s;ine&s;s came to the Deci&s;ion of a Bloody Battle, wherein the Lyon being Victor, drave all the re&s;t of his Competitors out of his Terri|tories, and became the Sole and Peaceable Ma&s;ter of the I&s;land.</P>
<P>Some Years after, the Leopard meeting the Lyons in a Fore&s;t, recounted to 'em his Mi&s;|fortunes, and be&s;ought 'em to a&s;&s;i&s;t him in the Recovery of his I&s;land. But the Lyons who knew the &s;trength of the U&s;urper, refus'd their A&s;&s;i&s;tance to the Leopard, and di&s;dainfully, Poor &s;illy Creature, &s;aid they, do&s;t thou not under&s;tand that thy I&s;land is under the Power of a Lyon &s;o Redoubted, that the very Birds are afraid to fly over his Head? We advi&s;e thee rather, added they, to go and wair upon him, &s;ubmi&s;&s;ively to offer thy Services to him, and take thy time to revenge the Injuries he has done thee. The Leopard follow'd this Coun|&s;el, went to the Lyon's Court, and there intrud|ing him&s;elf into the Acquaintance of one of the Lyon's Dome&s;tics, and by a thou&s;and Care&s;&s;es <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ngag'd him to give him an Opportunity to di&s;|cour&s;e his Ma&s;ter. The Lyon found him to be a per&s;on of &s;o much Merit, that he confer'd a very Noble Employment upon him in his Court, and in a little time the Leopard &s;o in|&s;inuated him&s;elf into the Lyon's favour, that the Grandees of the Court began to grow Jealous of him. It happen'd one time, that &s;ome ex|traordinary Exigence of State call'd away the
<PB N="30" REF="23">Lyon to &s;ome Place far di&s;tant from the I&s;land; but the Lyon, being lazy, had no mind to &s;tir out of his Wood at a time that the heat was &s;o exce&s;&s;ive: Which the Leopard perceiv|ing, He offer'd to undertake the Voyage him&s;elf, and after he obtain'd leave, he depart|ed with &s;ome others that follow'd him for Love, arriv'd at the place, di&s;patch'd his Bu&s;ine&s;s and return'd back to Court with &s;uch an unexpect|ed Speed, that the King admiring his Diligence, Well, &s;aid He, to tho&s;e about him, this Leo|pard is one for my Turn; he contemns La|bour, de&s;pi&s;es Hard&s;hip, &s;o it be to procure the Welfare and Peace of my Dominions, and therefore I cannot do better then to give him the Command of my Army. And at the &s;ame time he &s;ent for the Leopard, highly applaud|ed his Zeal, gave him the Government of all his Fore&s;ts, and made him his Heir. Had not the Leopard undertaken this Journey, he had never regain'd his I&s;land.</P>
<P>By this Di&s;cour&s;e the Vi&s;ir, judg'd it would be impo&s;&s;ible to di&s;&s;uade the King from the Re&s;olution he had taken to Travel, and there|fore they &s;aid no more to hinder him. During his Ab&s;ence he intru&s;ted &s;uch Vi&s;irs in whom he had the Greate&s;t Confidence with the Care of his Dominions, and charg'd 'em above all things to be Kind and Loving to the People. And thus <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> being at Ea&s;e within him&s;elf, and in full Peace of Mind, &s;et forward with &s;ome of his Courtiers for <HI>Serandib,</HI> where he arriv'd after a long and painful Journey. He &s;pent three Days in walking about, that he might take a full View of that City; and then leaving his mo&s;t Cumber&s;ome Baggage behind
<PB N="31" REF="23">him, as al&s;o &s;ome part of his Train, he cro&s;s'd the Mountain, which he found wonderful High and Steep, but environ'd with a great Number of plea&s;ant Gardens and lovely Mea|dows. Upon which looking about him on e|very &s;ide, he perceiv'd a very Ob&s;cure Den or Cavern, which the Inhabitants of the Mountain told him was the Retirement of a certain Her|mite, call'd <HI>Bidpay,</HI> that is to &s;ay, the Friend|ly Phi&s;itian; that &s;ome of the Indian Grandees call'd him <HI>Pilpay;</HI> that he was a Per&s;on of Pro|found Knowledge; that he was retir'd from the World in contempt of the Hurrey and Va|nity of it, and pleas'd him&s;elf in leading a Soli|tary Life. This did but increa&s;e <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI>'s Curio&s;ity, who therefore went him&s;elf to the Mouth of the Cave. <HI>Pilpay</HI> therefore, &s;u&s;pect|ing his De&s;ign, invited him in; and the King being enter'd, the Old Bramin <HI>Pilpay</HI> be&s;ough<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to re&s;t him&s;elf, and ask'd him the rea&s;on of his taking &s;o long a Journey. The King, who had &s;omething of a Prophetic Apprehen&s;ion, that he &s;hould meet with what he &s;ought for in his Con|ver&s;e with the Old Man, recounted to him his Dream, the Di&s;covery of the Trea&s;ure, and what was contain'd in the Piece of White Sattin. But then the Bramin &s;miling, told the King, that he lookt upon tho&s;e to be a happy People who liv'd under his Reign, and that he could not &s;ufficienly applaud his having contemn'd the Fatigues of a Tedious Journey, to acquire Knowledge, and for the Felicity of his Subjects. Then opening his Lips like a &s;mall Cabinet of Precious Knowledge, he charm'd <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> with his Admirable Di&s;cour&s;es. They talk'd together concerning <HI>Hou&s;chenks</HI> Letter: And
<PB N="32" REF="24"><HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> Read the Admonitions which it con|tain'd, one after the other. <HI>Pilpay</HI> unfolded 'em to the King, and the King engrav'd 'em in his Memory.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. I. <HI>That we ought to avoy'd the In&s;inuations of Flatterers, and Backbiters.</HI></HEAD>
<P>SAid <HI>Dab&s;chelim</HI> to <HI>Pilpay,</HI> The fir&s;t Admo|nition is, that Kings ought never to li&s;ten to fal&s;e Reports and Flatterers, which occa&s;ion nothing but Misfortunes, and always bring an ill End to all &s;uch as Hearken to 'em. Whoever cry'd the Bramin, ob&s;erves not this Command, mu&s;t needs be Ignorant of the Fable of the Lyon and the Ox. Upon which, the King De&s;irous to hear it, <HI>Pilpay</HI> continu'd in the following Manner.</P>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Merchant and his Leud Children.</HEAD>
<P>A Merchant, who was a Man Experienc'd to perfection in the affairs of the World, falling Sick, and perceiving that his Age and his Di|&s;temper would not long permit him to Live, call'd his Sons together, who were very de|bauch'd, and wa&s;ted his E&s;tate in Riot and Di&s;|order. Sons, &s;aid He, I know you may be in &s;ome mea&s;ure Excus'd for thus con&s;uming
<PB N="33" REF="24">my E&s;tate, not knowing what it co&s;t to get it. But know, that Riches &s;hould be only properly In&s;trumental to acquire the Ble&s;&s;ings of Heav'n and Earth. There are three things that all Men labour for in this World with more then Ordinary vehemence. The fir&s;t is, that they may enjoy all the Conveniences of Life: And the&s;e are People who are only addicted to In|temperance, and abandon them&s;elves to &s;en&s;ual Plea&s;ures. The &s;econd is, to obtain High Dig|nities and Preferments: The&s;e are the Ambiti|ous, who only love to command and be Ad|mir'd. The third is, to acquire Heavenly Ble&s;&s;ings; and to take delight in doing good to our Equals: The&s;e de&s;erve high Applau&s;es: But there's no way to attain this la&s;t End, but by the means of Wealth well got. Now &s;eeing that nothing that we &s;eek for in this World is to be had without Mony, that which can pro|cure us what we &s;earch for mu&s;t be fir&s;t of all acquir'd; but they who meet an E&s;tate already got to their Hands, know not the Trouble of getting it: And that's the rea&s;on they con&s;ume it &s;o Prodigally in a little time. Therefore, Dear Children, give over this Irregular Life, take a care of your &s;elves, and rather endeavour to increa&s;e your E&s;tates, then to wa&s;t 'em idly. To which, Father, &s;aid the Elde&s;t Son, you command us to acquire, but Acqui&s;ition de|pend's only upon Fortune. I know well we &s;hall never want what is de&s;tin'd us, tho' we we &s;hould never &s;tir a Foot to obtain it: On the other &s;ide, we &s;hall never be Ma&s;ters of what is not ordain'd us, tho' we &s;hould torment our &s;elves almo&s;t to Death. I Remember an old Proverb: Whenever I fled what De&s;tiny had
<PB N="34" REF="25">Allotted, I always met with it; but when ever I &s;ought for that which never was appointed for me, I never could find it. This is clearly to be &s;een by the Fable of the Kings two Sons; of which, one di&s;cover'd his Fathers Trea&s;ure, and gain'd the Kingdom with little Trouble, while the other lo&s;t it, tho' he did all he could to pre|&s;erve it. The Father would needs hear the Fable, which his Son rehears'd as follows.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of a King and his two Sons.</HEAD>
<P>IN the Country of <HI>Al&egrave;s,</HI> there liv'd a King who had two Sons, both covetous, yet given to Debauchery. The King finding him&s;elf Ex|treamly Old, and con&s;idering the Humour of his two Sons, was afraid le&s;t after his Death, they &s;hould di&s;&s;ipate in Idle Expences the va&s;t Trea|&s;ure which he had heap'd together, and re&s;olv'd to hide it. With this de&s;ign he went to a Religious Hermit who had retir'd from the World, and in whom he had a very great Confidence. By the Coun&s;el of this Hermite the Trea&s;ure was Buried in the Hermitage &s;o Privately that no Body knew any thing of. This done, the King made his Will, which he put into the Hermits hands, with the&s;e farther Orders at the &s;ame Time: I charge you, &s;aid He, to reveal this Trea&s;ure to my Children, if after my Death you &s;ee 'em in the Di&s;tre&s;&s;es of Poverty. It may be, added the King, that when they have &s;uffer'd a little Hard&s;hip, they will become more prudent in their Expences then hitherto they have been.</P>
<PB N="35" REF="25">
<P>The Hermit having promis'd all Fidelity in the Ob&s;ervance of the King's Commands, the King return'd to his Palace, and in a &s;hort time after dy'd; nor did the Hermit long &s;urvive him: So that the Trea&s;ure lay conceal'd in the Hermitage. The King being thus Dead, the two Sons could not agree about the Succe&s;|&s;ion, which occa&s;ion'd a Bloody War between 'em: And the Elde&s;t who was the Stronge&s;t utterly De&s;poil'd his Younger Brother of all that he could preten'd to. The Young Prince thus depriv'd of his Inheritance, fell into &s;uch a deep Melancholy that he re&s;olv'd to quit the World. To that purpo&s;e he left the City; and calling to mind the Kindne&s;s between his Fa|ther and the Hermit, there is no other way, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, but to find out this Hone&s;t Man, that I may learn of him to live as he does, and end my life in his Company. Com|ing to the Hermitage, he found that the Her|mit was Dead; and thereupon he made choice of his Retirement for his poor Habitation.</P>
<P>Now there was in this Hermitage a certain Well, which had no Water: So that he let him&s;elf down to the Bottom, to try whether he could find what it was that &s;topt the Water. But in&s;tead of meeting what he lookt for, he found his Father's Trea&s;ure; for which he was very thankful to Heaven, and took up a Re&s;o|lution, to lay out his Mony with more Mode|ration then he had done before.</P>
<P>On the other &s;ide his Brother &s;ate &s;ecurely Re|velling upon this Throne without any care of his People or his Army; imagining with him&s;elf, that his Father's Trea&s;ure was hid in the Pa|lace, as he had told him upon his Death Bed.
<PB N="36" REF="26">One Day, being at War with a Neighbouring Prince, he was oblig'd to have recour&s;e to his pretended Trea&s;ure. But he was amaz'd after he had &s;ought a long time and found nothing; which becau&s;e it quite di&s;abl'd him from rai&s;ing a powerful Army, put him into a very great fit of Melancholy. However making a Vertue of Nece&s;&s;ity, he rais'd what Force he could, and March'd out of the City to meet and encounter his Enemy. The Battle was ob&s;tinate, and the King and his Enemy were both Slain; &s;o that the two Armies enrag'd at the lo&s;s of their Lead|ers, fell to Butcher each other with equal Fury; till at length the Generals being agreed together, that it would be their better way to chu&s;e a Mild and Gentle Prince for the Government of the State, they went and found out the Young Prince, who was retir'd to the Hermitage, conducted him in great Pomp to the Royal Palace, and &s;et him upon the Throne.</P>
<P>This Fable &s;hews, that it is better to rely upon De&s;tiny and Providence, then for Men to Torment them&s;elves about the Acqui&s;ition of a thing that was never ordain'd 'em. So &s;oon as the Young Man had ended his Fable, All this is very true, &s;aid the Father, but all Effects have their Cau&s;es, and he who relies upon Pro|vidence without con&s;idering 'em, had need to be in&s;tructed by the en&s;uing Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="37" REF="26">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Derwich, the Falcon, and the Raven.</HEAD>
<P>A Derwich, pa&s;&s;ing through a Wood, and con&s;idering the Wonders of God and Nature, &s;py'd a Falcon that held a Peice of Fle&s;h in his Beak, and which hovering about a Ne&s;t, tore the Fle&s;h into Bits, and gave it a young Raven that lay bald and Featherle&s;s in the Ne&s;t. The Derwich admiring the Bounty of Gods Providence, in a Rapture of Admi|ration, Behold this poor Bird, &s;aid He, that is not able to &s;ee out Su&s;tenance for him&s;elf, is not however for&s;aken of God, who &s;preads the whole World like a Table, where all Creatures, Friends and Foes have &s;till their Food and Sub|&s;i&s;tence ready provided for 'em. He extends his Liberality &s;o far, that the Griffin al&s;o finds wherewith to Liye upon the Moun|tain of <HI>Caf.</HI> Why then am I &s;o greedy, and wherefore do I ran to the ends of the Earth, and Plough up the Ocean for Bread? Is it not bet|ter that I &s;hould hence forward confine my &s;elf in repo&s;e to a little Corner, and abandon my &s;elf to Fortune. Upon this he retir'd to his Cell, where without putting him&s;elf to any farther Trouble for any thing in this World, he re|main'd three Days and three Nights without Victuals. At la&s;t, Servant of Mine, &s;aid God to him, Know thou, that all things in this World have their Cau&s;es: And tho' my Provi|dence can never be limited, my Wi&s;dom however requires, that Men &s;hall make u&s;e of the Means that I have ordain'd 'em. If thou
<PB N="38" REF="27">would&s;t imitate any one of the Birds, imitate the Falcon that feeds the Raven, and not the Raven that lies a &s;luggard in his Ne&s;t, and ex|pects his Food from another.</P>
<P>This Example &s;hews us, that we are not to lead Idle and Lazy Lives under the Pretence of Providence. Then the &s;econd Son taking upon him to &s;peak, Sir, &s;aid He to his Father, you advi&s;e us to Labour, and get E&s;tates and Riches, but when we have heap'd up a great deal of Wealth, what &s;hall we do with it? 'Tis ea&s;ie to acquire Wealth, reply'd the Father, but a difficult thing to expend it well, and to pre|&s;erve it. Riches many times prove very fatal, as may be &s;een by the following Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Country-Man, and &s;everal Rats.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Husband-man had a Barn full of Corn clo&s;e lockt up, not far from which liv'd a Rat, that made Holes on every &s;ide of it, on purpo&s;e to get a Lively-hood; and he Labour'd &s;o long that he got free Ingre&s;s into the Barn. When he &s;aw him&s;elf Ma&s;ter of this va&s;t Trea&s;ure away he ran, full of Joy, and gave Notice of it to &s;everal other Rats his Neighbours; who pre&s;ently fllockt about him, and made him a thou&s;and Offers of their Ser|vice, Scraping and Cringing to him, and &s;ooth|ing him in all the Excur&s;ions of his Fanta&s;tic Humour. The Fool taking all this for ready Mony, grew very proud and Stately, as be|lieving him&s;elf to be &s;ome Extraordinary Per|&s;on; and never con&s;idering that this Magazine
<PB N="39" REF="27">was not to la&s;t always, he began to play the Prodigal at the Husband-Mans co&s;t, treating his Companions and Flatterers every Day at Rack and Manger. But there happen'd at the &s;ame time &s;o terrible a Famine, that the Poor cry'd out for Bread while the Rat lay wallow|ing in Plenty. The Husband-man now be|lieving it his time to make the Be&s;t of his Corn, open'd his Barn Door; but finding a more then ordinary Con&s;umption of his Store, he fell in|to a Pa&s;&s;ion, and pre&s;ently remov'd what he had to another Place. The Rat, who lookt upon him&s;elf to be &s;ole Ma&s;ter of Mi&s;rule in the Barn, was then a&s;leep but his Para&s;ites, were a|wake, and &s;eeing the Husband-man go and come, misdoubted there was &s;omthing in the Matter; thereupon they betook them&s;elves every one to flight, leaving the poor cully'd Rat a&s;leep. This is the Practice of your Smell-fea&s;t Friends, while you keep a plentiful Table they are your mo&s;t Humble and Obedient Servants, but when the Accommodation fails, like Tartars, they &s;eek for other Pa&s;tures.</P>
<P>The next Day the Rat waking, was amaz'd to find none of his Pick-thanks at his Elbow, which made him leave his Hole in great ha&s;t, to know the Cau&s;e, which he &s;oon found out; for going to the Barn and finding all was gone, and not &s;o much left as would &s;uffice him for that Day, he fell into &s;uch a deep De&s;pair, that he beat out his Brains again&s;t the next Wall, and &s;o ended his Days. This Example &s;hews us that we ought to Live according to our In|come.</P>
<P>The &s;econd Brother having thus concluded, the younge&s;t taking his Turn. Father, &s;aid He,
<PB N="40" REF="28">when we have acquir'd this Wealth you &s;peak of, what is then to be done? This Wealth, re|ply'd the Father, is to be made u&s;e of, upon all Occa&s;ions; but more e&s;pecially for the Con|veniencies of Life, according to the Directions of Temperance and Ju&s;tice. In the fir&s;t Place, your Expences ought not to be &s;uch, as afterwards to be repented of, or to be condemn'd as the Wa&s;t of Prodigality. In the &s;econd Place, no Man ought by his Avarice to render him&s;elf hateful to the World.</P>
<P>The Father having thus Exhorted his Child|ren to follow his Coun&s;el, they betook them|&s;elves all three to particular Callings, the Elde&s;t turn'd Merchant, and Travell'd into Foreign Countries: Among other Goods he had two Oxen; both the Calves of the &s;ame Cow, and both very fair and beautiful, the one was call'd <HI>Cohotorb,</HI> and the other <HI>Mandeb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">.</HI> The Mer|chant took great care to feed up the&s;e Oxen; but becau&s;e his Journey was long, they grew to be Weak and Lean. In the Road they met with a Quagmire, into which <HI>Cohotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> fell, and &s;tuck &s;o fa&s;t, that the Merchant had much ado to get him out again. However <HI>Cohotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> was &s;o Weak that being hardly able to &s;tand, the Merchant was forc'd to leave him behind under the care of a certain Per&s;on till he could recover &s;trength to continue his Journey: But the Man, after he had kept him all alone for three Days in the De&s;ert, grew weary of his Charge, left <HI>Cohotorb</HI> to feed by him&s;elf, and &s;ent the Mer|chant word that his Ox was Dead. In a little time after <HI>Mandeb</HI> dy'd of hard labour, and <HI>Cohotorb</HI> behaving recover'd his Fle&s;h, began to ramble from one Place to another: And com|ing
<PB N="41" REF="28">into a Meadow that pleas'd him very well, he &s;tay'd thre for &s;ome time, living in Ea&s;e and Plenty; &s;o that he became fair as and plump as ever he was before.</P>
<P>Not far from this Meadow liv'd a Lyon who made all the Inhabitants of the Woods round about him tremble; and he commanded over &s;everal other Lyons, who believ'd him to be the mo&s;t Potent Sovereign in the World. And indeed he was very formidable: But when he heard the Bellowing of the Ox which he had never heard before, a mo&s;t Dreadful Terrour &s;eiz'd him. Neverthele&s;s, becau&s;e he was a&s;ham'd to di&s;cover his Fears to his Courti|ers, he pretended an unwillingne&s;s to &s;tir out of his Palace. Among the re&s;t of his Dome&s;tic Servants he had two Foxes that were as Cun|ning as two Broakers, one of which was call'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> and the other <HI>Damna;</HI> and the latter, which was the Male, was more Proud and more Ambitious then the Former. One Day, &s;aid He to his Wife, What do&s;t thou think of the King, that he dares not walk abroad as he was want to do? To whom <HI>Kalila</HI> an&s;wer'd, why do you ask me &s;uch a Que&s;tion? 'tis &s;ufficient for you to live peaceably under his Protection with|out Examining what he does: 'Tis not for us to prate about State-Affaires: And they that meddle with things that no way concern 'em are in Jeopardy of the &s;ame Misfortune that befel the Ape.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="42" REF="29">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Carpenter and the Ape.</HEAD>
<P>AN Ape &s;ate &s;taring upon a Carpenter who was cleaving a Piece of Wood with two Wedges, which he put into the Cleft one after another, as the &s;plit open'd. The Car|penter leaving his work half done, the Ape would needs turn Logcleaver, and coming to the Peace of Wood, pull'd out the Wedge, without putting in the other; &s;o that the Wood clo&s;ing again, held the Poor Monkey by the two Fore Feet, &s;o fa&s;t, that not being able to get away before the Carpenter return'd, the Moody Carpenter knockt him o'the Head for medling with his Work.</P>
<P>This Fable in&s;tructs us, that we ought not to meddle with other People's Bu&s;ine&s;s. However, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> 'tis not for tho&s;e that &s;erve Kings, to be Idle: They mu&s;t be always endeavouring to advance them&s;elves. Know you not the Fable of the two Com|panions, one of which by his Indu&s;try, ob|tain'd a Crown: The other, being &s;loath|ful and faint-hearted, fell into Extream Mi|&s;ery.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="43" REF="29">
<HEAD>The Fable of the two Travellers, and the Lyon carv'd in White Stone.</HEAD>
<P>THere were two Friends in Former Times who made a Re&s;olution never to leave each other. They always Travell'd together, and one Day among the re&s;t, they came to a lovely Fountain at the Foot of a Hill; and the Place was &s;o delightful, that they re&s;olv'd to re&s;t them&s;elves by the Purling Stream. Af|ter they were well refre&s;h'd, they began to look about 'em, and plea&s;e their Eyes with what they could di&s;cover mo&s;t Rare and Curious in &s;o plea&s;ant a Place. At length they ca&s;t their Eyes upon a White Stone, that contain'd the following Words Written in Blew Let|ters.</P>
<P>Travellers, We have prepar'd you an Excel|lent Banquet for your Welcome. But you mu&s;t throw your &s;elves boldly into this Foun|tain, and Swim to the other &s;ide, where you &s;hall meet with a Lyon carv'd in White Stone, which you mu&s;t take upon your Should|ers, and without &s;topping run with it to the Top of younder Mountain, never fearing the Wild Bea&s;ts that will &s;urround you, nor the Thorns that will prick your Feet; for as &s;oon as you are got off the Hill, you will be in po&s;|&s;e&s;&s;ion of great Felicity: If you cea&s;e going for|ward, you &s;hall never come to your Journeys End, nor &s;hall the Slothful ever attain to what they de&s;ire.</P>
<P>Then <HI>Ganem,</HI> for that was the Name of one of the two Companions, Brother &s;aid He, to
<PB N="44" REF="30"><HI>Salem,</HI> for &s;o was the other call'd, here is a Means pre&s;cribed us that will put an end to all our Pains and Travel, let us take Courage, and try whether what this Tali&s;man contains be True or Fal&s;e. Dear Friend, reply'd <HI>Salem,</HI> 'tis not for a Man of Sen&s;e to give Credit to an Idle Writing, and under Pretence of great tho' uncert Gain to throw him&s;elf into Evi|dent danger. Friend, reply'd <HI>Ganem,</HI> They who have never &s;o little Courage, contemn danger, to make them&s;elves happy; there is no gathering the Ro&s;e, without being prickt by the Thorns. However, an&s;wer'd <HI>Salem,</HI> we are not to attempt &s;uch Enterprizes, the End of which we know not as well as the Begin|ning: And thus we are not to throw our &s;elves into this Fountain, that &s;eems to be a Kind of an Aby&s;s, from whence it may not be &s;o ea&s;ie to get out again. A Rational Man never moves one of his Feet till the other be fix'd. Perhaps this Writing may be a meer Whim&s;ey; and tho' it &s;hould be real, perhaps when you have cro&s;s d this little Lake, the Lion of Stone may prove &s;o heavy, that you may not be able to run with it without Stopping to the Top of the Mountain. But &s;uppo&s;ing all this were ea&s;ie for you to perform, when you have done what ever is by you to be done, you know not what will be the I&s;&s;ue of your care and trouble. For my part I will be no &s;harer with you in dangers of this Enterprize, and will endeavour al&s;o to di&s;&s;uade you from it. No Per&s;ua&s;ions, reply'd <HI>Ganem,</HI> &s;hall make me alter my Re&s;olution: And there|fore if you will not follow me, Dear Friend, at lea&s;t be pleas'd to &s;ee me venture. <HI>Salem,</HI> &s;eeing him &s;o Re&s;olute, cry'd out, Dear Friend,
<PB N="45" REF="30">you have refus'd my Admonitions, and I have not the power to &s;tay and be a Witne&s;s of your Ruin; and &s;o taking his leave he &s;et forward upon his Journey.</P>
<P>On the other &s;ide <HI>Ganem</HI> went to the Brink of the Fountain, re&s;olving to peri&s;h'd or to win the Prize. He found it deep, but &s;trengthen'd by his Courage, he Swam to the other &s;ide. When he had recover'd the dry Land, he re&s;ted him&s;elf a while; and then lifting up the Lion with with all his Might, without &s;topping he ran with it to the Top of the Mountain. From thence he had the Pro&s;pect of a very fair City; but as he was viewing it, there i&s;&s;u'd from the Lion of Stone &s;uch a Terrible Thundering Noi&s;e, that the Mountain and all the Places round a|bout it Trembl'd, as if &s;haken by &s;ome &s;uddain Earth-quake. This Noi&s;e no &s;ooner reach'd the Ears of the Inhabitants of the City, but they came all to <HI>Ganem,</HI> who was not a little a|&s;toni&s;h'd to &s;ee 'em. Pre&s;ently &s;ome that &s;eem'd to be Superiour to the re&s;t in Quality and degree accoa&s;ted him with great Re&s;pect and Ceremo|ny; and after they had harangu'd him with many large Encomiums, they &s;et him upon a lovely Hor&s;e mo&s;t &s;umptuou&s;ly Capari&s;on'd. After this, they Conducted him to the City, where they wa&s;h'd him with Ro&s;e-water, made him put on the Royal Robes and proclaim'd him King of all the Country. He de&s;ir'd to un|der&s;tand the rea&s;on of his Advancement: To which they an&s;wer'd, that the Learned Men of the Kingdom had by vertue of a Tali&s;man &s;o charm'd the Fountain which he had cro&s;s't, and the Lion which he carry'd to the Top of the Mountain, that when their King Died, and
<PB N="46" REF="31">that any one were &s;o adventurous as to Expo&s;e him&s;elf to the Hazards which he had done, the Lion roard out &s;o Prodigiou&s;ly, that the Inha|bitants hearing the Noi&s;e went forth in &s;earch of the Per&s;on to make him their King. This Cu&s;tom, pur&s;u'd they, has been of long Conti|nuance, and &s;ince the Lot is fall'n upon your Maje&s;ty, your Sovereignty is ab&s;olute among us. Nor was <HI>Ganem</HI> a little glad to &s;ee his Courage &s;o well recompenc'd.</P>
<P>I have rehears'd this Fable to you, to let you under&s;tand, that there is no ta&s;ting Plea&s;ure without Trouble. For which rea&s;on it is that I am re&s;olv'd never to give over till I am one of the Greate&s;t Lords in the Court. <HI>Kalila</HI> ask'd him what Means he intended to make u&s;e of to attain his Ends. The Lion, an&s;wer'd <HI>Damna,</HI> &s;eems to be &s;eiz'd with A&s;toni&s;hment, and I in|tend to cure him of his Di&s;quiet. How can&s;t thou pre&s;ume, cry'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> to give Coun&s;el to a King, thou that never wert acco&s;tum'd to the Cabals of Princes? Per&s;ons of Wit, re|ply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> never want Indu&s;try to accom|pli&s;h their De&s;igns. One Day, a Handicraft Trades-Man, who by his Vertue had Gaind a Kingdom, receiv d a Letter from a Neighbour|ing Prince, wherein he Expo&s;tulated with the New King after this manner, <HI>Thou that did&s;t never handle before any other then a Chizzle or a Saw, how dar&s;t thou pre&s;ume to Govern a King|dom?</HI> To which the Carpenter return'd for An&s;wer, he that gave me Wit enough to Guide a Saw, will al&s;o give me no le&s;s Judgment to Govern an Army. Kings, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> do not always cheri&s;h with their favours tho&s;e who have Wit and Merit, but only their Olde&s;t Ser|vants,
<PB N="47" REF="31">and &s;uch as have done the State Impor|tant Service; and &s;eeing therefore you are but a new Commer, and indeed none of the mo&s;t u&s;e|ful of the Kings Servants, what can you pre|tend to? I hope, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> in a &s;hort time to have a much more con&s;iderable Employment then I have at Pre&s;ent: For I am not ignorant that they who a&s;pire to be admitted into the Cabinets of Princes, ought to have five parti|cular Qualifications: Never to be in Pa&s;&s;ion; to avoid Pride; not to be Covetous; to be &s;incere; and never to be a&s;toni&s;h d at the Chan|ges of Fortune. Very good, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> &s;up|po&s;e you might be the Kings Favorite, what Vertues would you practi&s;e to gain his E&s;teem? I would &s;erve him, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> with a perfect Fidelity, I would punctually obey him; and whatever the King does, I will al|ways believe his Intentions Good. I will per|&s;uade him to do Good, by laying before him the Benefit he will receive thereby, and I will di&s;&s;uade him from doing what ever may be prejudicial to him&s;elf or his Kingdom. I find thee, &s;aid <HI>Kalila,</HI> re&s;olv'd to go on with this de&s;ign; but have a care what thou do&s;t; for 'tis a dangerous thing to &s;erve a Prince. Wi&s;e Men &s;ay, that three &s;orts of Per&s;ons are de|priv'd of Judgment: They who are ambitious of Preferments in the Courts of Princes; They who make u&s;e of Poi&s;on, to &s;hew the Excellency of a Remedy; and they who entru&s;t Women with their Secrets. A King is compar'd to a High Mountain, upon which there are Mines of Pretious Stones, and numerous Herds of wild Devouring Bea&s;ts: 'Tis a difficult thing to acco&s;t 'em, but more dangerous to Inhabit
<PB N="48" REF="32">em. Kings are morever compar'd to a wide 'Ocean, wherein Sea-faring People either make their Fortunes or peri&s;h. I am not Ignorant, reply'd <HI>Damna</HI> in his turn, that Kings re&s;em|ble Fire, which will burn tho&s;e that approach too near it; but he who is afraid to adventure, will never come to any thing.</P>
<P>After this Di&s;cour&s;e, <HI>Damna</HI> went to wait upon the Lion, and made him a profound Re|verence. Pre&s;ently the Lion ask'd who he was. To which &s;ome of his Courtiers reply'd, he was &s;uch a one, and that his Father had a long time &s;erv'd his Maje&s;ty. Oh &s;aid the King, I now remember him&mdash;then turning to <HI>Damna,</HI> Well Friend, where do you Live? &mdash; I &s;upply my Fathers Place in your Maje&s;ties Hou&s;hold, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> but till now I never dur&s;t pre&s;ume to appear in your Maje&s;ties pre|&s;ence with the Offer of my &s;ervice. I hope your Maje&s;ty will not di&s;dain the Oblation of my faithful Intentions tho' I am the meane&s;t and unworthie&s;t of your Servants. Dry Wood is &s;ometimes as much e&s;teem'd in this World as the Ro&s;ebu&s;h or the Fruit-tree. The Lion was charm'd with <HI>Damna</HI>'s Eloquence, and look|ing upon his Courtiers, Wit, &s;aid He, re&s;em|bles Fire, that will &s;hew it &s;elf, tho' Cover'd with A&s;hes. <HI>Damna</HI> was &s;o overjoy'd that his Compliment had pleas d the King, that he took his Opportunity to beg a Private Audience of the King, and when they were together, Sir, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> I be&s;eech your Maje&s;ty to let me Know the Cau&s;e of your Retirement, for with|in the&s;e few Days I have ob&s;erv'd your Maje&s;ty has not been &s;o chearful as you were wont to be. Fain would the Lion have conceal d his
<PB N="49" REF="32">fear at fir&s;t; but hearing <HI>Chotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> Bellow at the &s;ame time, it &s;o di&s;order'd his Countenance, that he found him&s;elf con&s;train'd to tell <HI>Damna,</HI> that the terrible Noi&s;e of the Bea&s;t, whoever he were, was the cau&s;e of the Di&s;turbance. I ima|gin, &s;aid the King, that the Body of the Bea&s;t which I hear Bellow &s;o Dreadfully, mu&s;t be proportionable to the &s;ound of his Voice; and that being &s;o, 'tis a madne&s;s for us to tarry any longer in the&s;e Woods. Is this all that trou|bles your Maje&s;ty, &s;aid <HI>Damna?</HI> Nothing el&s;e, an&s;wer'd the Lion. Sir, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> you ought not to quit your Princely Habitation for this: 'Tis not for a King to be afraid of a meer Sound, but rather to fortifie his Courage with &s;o much the greater Re&s;olution. Tho&s;e Creatures that make the loude&s;t Noi&s;es are not always the Bigge&s;t nor the Stronge&s;t. A Crane as big as he is, has neither &s;trength nor Cou|rage to encounter the weake&s;t Falcon: And he that &s;uffers him&s;elf to bedeluded by Bulk of Body may be deceiv'd as the Fox was.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="50" REF="33">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Fox and the Hen.</HEAD>
<P>SIR, Pur&s;u'd <HI>Damna,</HI> there was a certain Fox in a Wood who was eagerly &s;earching about for &s;omthing to appea&s;e his Hunger, and at length he &s;py'd a Hen, that was bu&s;ily &s;cratching the Earth and picking up the Worms at the Foot of a Tree. Upon the &s;ame Tree al&s;o hung a Drum which made a Noi&s;e every time the Branches, being mov'd by the Violence of the Wind, beat upon it. Now the Fox was ju&s;t going to fling him&s;elf upon the Hen, at what time he heard the Noi&s;e of the Drum. Oh ho, quoth he, looking up, are ye there, I'll be with ye by and by, that Body mu&s;t cer|tainly have more fle&s;h then a &s;orry Hen: And &s;o &s;aying, he clamber'd up the Tree, while the Hen made her E&s;cape. When he had &s;eiz'd his Prey, he fell to work with his Teeth and his Claws, and an Appetite as Keen as a Razor. But after he had torn off the Head of the Drum, and met with nothing but an empty Concavity; Air in&s;tead of Fle&s;h and Gri&s;tles, and a mear Hollowne&s;s in&s;tead of good Guts and Garbidge, then fetching a deep &s;igh, unfortunate Wretch, cry'd He, what a Delicate Mor&s;el have I lo&s;t, for the &s;hew of a larger Belliful!</P>
<P>I have recited this Example, to the end your Maje&s;ty may not be terrify'd with the &s;ound of the Bellowing Noi&s;e you hear, becau&s;e loud and &s;trenuous; and if you plea&s;e I'll go and &s;ee what &s;ort of Creature it is. To which the Li|on con&s;ented; but when <HI>Damna</HI> was gone, he
<PB N="51" REF="33">repented his having &s;ent him away. For, &s;aid the King to him&s;elf, 'tis a great Error in a Prince to di&s;cover his &s;ecrets to ten &s;orts of Per&s;ons; 1. To tho&s;e whom he has ill us'd without a Cau&s;e. 2. To tho&s;e who have lo&s;t their E&s;tates or their Honour at Court. 3. To tho&s;e who have been Degraded from their Em|ployments without any hopes of ever being re|&s;tor'd to 'em again. 4. To tho&s;e that love no|thing but Sedition and Di&s;turbance. 5. To tho&s;e that &s;ee their Kindred or Acquaintance in Pre|ferments from whence them&s;elves have been Excluded. 6. To &s;uch as having committed any Crime have been more &s;everely Puni&s;h'd then others who have tran&s;gre&s;s'd in the &s;ameman|ner. 7. To &s;uch as have done good Service, and have been ill rewarded. 8. To Enemies re|concil'd by Con&s;traint. 9. To tho&s;e who be|lieve the Ruin of the Prince will turn to their Advantage. 10. To tho&s;e that believe them|&s;elves le&s;s Oblig'd to their Sovereign then to his Enemy. Therefore I have done impru|dently in di&s;covering my &s;ecrets to <HI>Damna.</HI></P>
<P>While the King was making the&s;e Reflexi|ons to him&s;elf, <HI>Damna</HI> return'd, and told him, that the Bea&s;t which made &s;uch a Noi&s;e was no other then an Ox, that was feeding in a Meadow without any other de&s;ign then to &s;pend his Days lazily in Eating and Sleeping, Moreover, added <HI>Damna,</HI> if your Maje&s;ty thinks it convenient, I will &s;o order the matter, that he &s;hall be glad to come and enroll him&s;elf in the Number of your Servants. The Lion was extreamly pleas'd with <HI>Damna</HI>'s Propo&s;als, and made him a &s;ign to go and fetch the Ox into his Pre&s;ence. Thereupon, <HI>Damna</HI> went
<PB N="52" REF="34">immediatly to <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> and ask'd him from whence he came, and what Accident had brought him into tho&s;e Quarters? In an&s;wer to which, when <HI>Chotorbe</HI> had &s;atisfy'd <HI>Damna</HI>'s Curio&s;ity, then <HI>Damna,</HI> Friend, &s;aid He, here lives a Lion not far off, who is the King of all the Bea&s;ts of the Country, and he has given me orders to conduct thee to his Palace. If thou wilt follow me, I promi&s;e thee the favour of being admitted into his Service and Protecti|on; but if thou refu&s;e&s;t to go a long with me, know that thou ha&s;t not many Days to live in this Place. So &s;oon as the Ox did but hear the Word Lion pronounc'd, he trembl'd for fear, and made <HI>Damna</HI> this an&s;wer, If thou wilt a&s;&s;ure me that he &s;hall do me no harm I will fol|low thee. <HI>Damna</HI> Swore to him, and <HI>Chotor|be</HI> upon the Faith of his Oaths con&s;ented to go and wait upon the Lion: upon which <HI>Dam|na</HI> ran before to give the King Notice of <HI>Cho|torbe</HI>'s coming; who arriving &s;oon after, made a profound Reverence to the King, who re|ceiv'd him with great Kindne&s;s, and ask'd him what Occa&s;ion had brought him into his Domi|nions? In an&s;wer to which when the Ox had recounted to him all his Adventures: Remain here, &s;aid the Lion, and enjoy thy Peace; for I permit my Subjects to live all within my Do|minions, in repo&s;e and tranquillity. The Ox having return'd his Maje&s;ty Thanks for his kind Reception promis'd to &s;erve him with a Real Fidelity. And at length <HI>Chotorbe</HI> in&s;inuated him&s;elf in &s;uch a Manner into the Lion's Favour, that he gain'd his Maje&s;ties Confidence, and be|came his mo&s;t Intimate Favourite.</P>
<PB N="53" REF="34">
<P>When <HI>Damna</HI> &s;aw that <HI>Chotorbe</HI> was in greater E&s;teem at Court then him&s;elf, and that he was the only Depo&s;itary of the King's Secrets, it wrought in him &s;o de&s;perate a Jeal|ou&s;y, that he could not take his Re&s;t, but was ready to Hang him&s;elf. Pre&s;ently he went and made his Moans to <HI>Kalila;</HI> Oh my dear Wife, &s;aid He, I have taken a World of Care and Pains to gain the King's Favour, and all to no purpo&s;e: I brought into his Pre&s;ence the Object that Occa&s;ion'd all his Di&s;turbances, and that very Ox is now become the Sole Cau&s;e of my Di&s;quiet. To which <HI>Kalila:</HI> You ought not to complain of what you have done, or at lea&s;t you ought to blame no Body but your &s;elf: For there is now befallen thee, what for|merly befel a Monk.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="54" REF="35">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Monk that left his Convent.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain King pre&s;ented a Certain Monk with a very Rich Habit; of which a Cun|ning Thief having Notice, made u&s;e of a very plea&s;ant &s;tratagem to cheat him of it. He went to the Monk in his Convent, and pre|tended an earne&s;t de&s;ire to &s;erve him as long as he liv'd. The Monk overjoy'd that he had got a Novice that &s;eem'd to be &s;o piou&s;ly in|clin'd, mo&s;t willingly receiv'd him; but the Thief taking the fir&s;t Opportunity he could, &s;tole the Habit and carry'd it a way. The Monk mi&s;&s;ing at once both his rich Cloaths and his Novi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">, mi&s;tru&s;ted the Bu&s;ine&s;s, and &s;o leaving the Convent, he re&s;olv'd to go to the City in &s;earch of the Robber. As he Travel'd upon the Road, he met with two Rams that were very furiou&s;ly Encountring one another, and Enter-chang'd &s;uch de&s;perate Horn-jurs, that the Blood ran down on every &s;ide. A Fox, who was a Witne&s;s of the Combate, lick'd up the Blood: But as he was licking he receiv'd &s;uch a Terrible Jurr o'the Head from one of the Rams, that he dy'd upon the Spot.</P>
<P>The Monk &s;topt a good while to behold this Accident, and &s;tay'd &s;o long, that when he came to the City, the Gates were &s;hut. How|ever a Woman that liv'd in the City, looking out at Window, perceiving him, and believing be wanted a Lodging, call'd to him and offer'd him the Convenience of her Hou&s;e. The
<PB N="55" REF="35">Monk very readily accepted her Kindne&s;s, went into the Hou&s;e, and put him&s;elf into a Corner to &s;ay is u&s;ual Prayers. This Wo|man, to tell ye the truth, was a Baud, and kept a Bevy of Pretty Girls, who&s;e Favours &s;he Sold to the Sparks of <HI>Venus.</HI> Among the&s;e Girls there was one among the Re&s;t, who was &s;o violently belov'd by a young Gentleman, and of whom he was &s;o jealous that he would ad|mit no Rival; which they, who were Ena|mour'd of her as well as him&s;elf, could as lit|tle brook, and therefore they per&s;uaded the young Girl to rid her&s;elf of his Company. Now in regard &s;he fear'd him more then &s;he lov'd him, &s;he li&s;ten'd to the per&s;ua&s;ions of her other Lovers, made her jealous Tyrant Drunk, and the &s;ame Night blew a venomous Powder up into his No&s;trils. But this Powder forcing the young Man to Sneez, the &s;trength of the &s;ter|nutation blew it back again into the Courte&s;ans Mouth; &s;o that not being able to prevent the going of the Powder down her Throat, &s;he felt the Effects of her own Poi&s;on and dy'd the &s;ame Hour. The poor Monk was a&s;toni&s;h'd to &s;ee all this, and he thought the Night extreamly long.</P>
<P>So &s;oon as Day came, he made ha&s;t to leave &s;o dangerous a Place, and took a Lodging at a Shooe-makers Hou&s;e, who receiv'd him with open Arms, and who being invited to a Fea&s;t from which it was impo&s;&s;ible for him to ab&s;ent him&s;elf, recommended however to his Family, the care and good U&s;age of his Gue&s;t.</P>
<P>At the &s;ame time the Cordwainers Wife had a Gallant, that was hand&s;ome and good Hu|mour'd
<PB N="56" REF="36">and they met frequently together by the means of a Surgeons Wife, who was &s;o cunning a Sollicitrix of Lechery, that &s;he could have reconcil'd Fire and Water into an Amo|rous Conjunction, and withal had her Tongue &s;o well hung, and was &s;o perfect in the Art of Wheedling, that &s;he would have made you believe a Stone was made of Wax. Now whenever the Shooe-makers Wife knew her Husband was &s;afe abroad, &s;he made u&s;e of this Mi&s;tre&s;s <HI>Go-between,</HI> to give Notice to her Paramour of her Husband's Ab&s;ence; and now believing &s;he had an Opportunity, &s;ent her a|way forthwith to tell her Gallant the good News. Away comes he immediatly upon the fir&s;t Intimation; but by what Ill luck I know not, as he was knocking at the Door, the Shooe|maker arriv'd, and finding the Man, whom he already &s;u&s;pected to be the Grafter of his Forhead, had had &s;uch good Intelligence, in he went without &s;aying a Word, beat his Wife, ty'd her to a Po&s;t and went to Bed.</P>
<P>While the Cord-wainer was a&s;leep, in comes the Surgeon's Wife not knowing any thing of what had happen'd, and having found out the Shooe-makers Wife i'the Dark, Slife, Si&s;ter &s;aid She, why do you let the young Man &s;tay &s;o long at the Door? &mdash; Go and fetch him in. To whom the Di&s;appointed Bond woman, with a low voice, I believe &s;aid She, &s;ome malicious Demon &s;ent my Husband back in &s;uch a Rage, that he was not &s;atisfy'd with al|mo&s;t breaking my Bones, but he has here ty'd me to a Po&s;t. Now you would do a Charita|ble Act, if you would but unbind me, and &s;tand in my place, while I go and beg pardon
<PB N="57" REF="36">of my Dear Friend for having made him &s;tay &s;o long; which done, I'll come back and be ty'd as I was.</P>
<P>The Surgeons Wife, mov'd with Compa&s;&s;ion made no Scruple to put her&s;elf in the Room of her di&s;tre&s;&s;ed Neighbour, who went to keep her Word with her Gallant. The Monk who had heard all this Di&s;cour&s;e, no longer accus'd the Cordwainer of Cruelty, nor thought him in the wrong for beating his Wife, as he had done before.</P>
<P>In the mean time the Shooe-maker wak'd, and call'd to his Wife; but the Surgeons Mate, fearing to be known by her Voice, made no an&s;wer; which put the Shooe-maker into &s;uch a fury, that he leapt out of the Bed, took a Knife in his Hand, and as he thought, cut off his Wifes No&s;e, and holding it in his hand, with a flouting Tone, here, &s;aid He, here's a Pre&s;ent for you to &s;end to your Wagtail in a Corner.</P>
<P>The poor Surgeons Wife dur&s;t not &s;o much as &s;igh for fear; however, quoth &s;he to her &s;elf, this is very hard luck, for me to &s;uffer what the Shooe-makers Wife de&s;erves, while &s;he is toying and dallying in the Arms of her Lover.</P>
<P>Upon her return the Shooe-maker's Wife was very much &s;urpriz'd to find her faithful Help|meet without a No&s;e: She beg'd her a thou|&s;and Pardons, unbound her, and ty'd her&s;elf in her Place, while the Surgeon's Mate return'd Home, carrying her No&s;e in her hand.</P>
<P>Some Hours after, when &s;he thought her Husband might hear her, with her hands lift|ed up to Heaven, Mo&s;t powerful Deity, cry'd the Shooe-makers Wife, who know'&s;t the Se|crets of all Hearts, thou know'&s;t that my Hus|band
<PB N="58" REF="37">has abus'd me without a Cau&s;e, let him &s;ee that I am a Woman of Reputation, by remov|ing from my face the deformity with which his Cruelty had defac'd it, and re&s;toring me my No&s;e as it was before. The Shooe-maker hearing tho&s;e words, Vile Strumpet, cry'd He, what wicked Prayer art thou making? Know|e&s;t thou not that the Prayers of Harlots never reach the Throne of Heav'n? Prayers that would be Heard mu&s;t i&s;&s;ue from a clean Heart, and undefiled Lips. Inhuman Tyrant, cry'd his Wife, ri&s;e, and admire the pui&s;&s;ance of the Deity, and the Exce&s;s of his goodne&s;s, who under&s;tanding my Innocence of the Crime for which thou accu&s;e&s;t me, is pleas'd to de|mon&s;trate my Cha&s;tity, by re&s;toring me my No&s;e, to the end I may not be lookt upon as a Woman of Di&s;honour in the World. The Shooe-maker, believing &s;uch a Miracle Impo&s;|&s;ible, Ri&s;es, lights a Candle, comes to his Wife, and finding upon her Face no Mark at all of the Cruel Fact which he thought he had committed, confe&s;s'd the injury he had done her to &s;u&s;pect her, he beg'd her pardon, and by a thou&s;and Care&s;&s;es &s;trove to make her forget his Cruelty.</P>
<P>On the other &s;ide, the Surgeon's Mate, who was gone home to her Lodging, as you may well believe, in great affliction, crept &s;oftly into Bed to her Husband, who when he wak'd, ask'd her for his Ca&s;e of In&s;truments, that he might go and dre&s;s &s;uch a Per&s;on. His Wife was a long time &s;eeking what her Husband de|manded, and when &s;he &s;aw him quite out of Patience, &s;he gave him a &s;ingle Razer which put the Surgeon into &s;uch a pelting Chafe, that
<PB N="59" REF="37">he flung it at her Head, calling her a thou&s;and Jades and Baggages. 'Twas hardly Day, which favour'd her de&s;ign. Pre&s;ently therefore the Woman flung her &s;elf upon the Ground, and fill'd the Air with loud Shrieks of Murder, Murder, which fetch'd all her Neighbours in an In&s;tant about her; who &s;eeing her all Bloody and without a No&s;e, began to cry out &s;hame upon the Surgeon, who was in &s;uch an Amaze, that he knew not what to &s;ay, nor which way to look. He knew not whether it were be&s;t for him to deny or confe&s;s the Fact: However when Morning was come, they hur|ry'd the Surgeon away before the Magi&s;trate. The Monk al&s;o went along with the Rabble, and heard the Ca&s;e &s;tated.</P>
<P>After the Accu&s;ation, and Witne&s;&s;es heard, well &s;aid the Judge to the Surgeon, what was the Rea&s;on, Sir, that you abus'd your Wife in &s;uch a horrid manner? To which when the Surgeon &s;eiz'd with A&s;toni&s;hment &s;tood Mute, not knowing what to an&s;wer, the Judge with|out any farther Examination Condemn'd him to Death.</P>
<P>But then, hold, Sir, cry'd the Monk, &s;u&s;|pend your Judgment, and take a care what Sentence you pronoune: 'tis neither the Thief that &s;tole my Garments, nor the Rams that kill'd the Fox, nor the Harlot that Poi&s;on'd her Lov|er, nor la&s;tly the Shooe-maker that cut off the Surgeons Wife's No&s;e, but we your &s;elves who have drawn upon us all the&s;e Misfortunes. Then the Judge leaving the Surgeon, and addre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to the Monk, demanded the Interpre|tation of his Riddle.</P>
<PB N="60" REF="38">
<P>Then the Monk gave him a full account of all that he had &s;een; and going on, Sir, &s;aid He, had I not taken the rich Garment out of Ambition, the Thief had never Rob'd me; had not the Fox thrown him&s;elf between the Rams out of Greedine&s;s, he had not been Kill'd; had not the Curti&s;an gone about to Poi&s;on the young Gentleman, &s;he had not been Poi&s;on'd her&s;elf; and had not the Surgeon's Wife favour'd the Adultery of the Shooe-makers Wife, &s;he had never lo&s;t her No&s;e. So that they who com|mit Evil, cannot hope for Good.</P>
<P>I have made u&s;e of this Fable, &s;aid <HI>Kalila,</HI> to &s;hew you that you have brought the&s;e trou|bles upon your own Head. 'Tis true, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> that I am the cau&s;e of 'em, but I de|&s;ire of you <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> pro&s;cribe me the Remedy. I have told you <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> the Beginning, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> that I would never meddle with your Affairs, and &s;o now, neither do I intend to trouble my &s;elf with the Cute of your Di&s;turbances. Mind your own Bu&s;ine&s;s your &s;elf, and con&s;ider what cour&s;e you have to take. Well then, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> I will u&s;e all my Endeavours to ruin the Ox; and certainly I have as much wit as the Sparrow that reveng'd him&s;elf upon the Sparrow-hawk; upon which <HI>Kalila</HI> de&s;ir'd him to recite the Fable, and <HI>Damna</HI> began as follows.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="61" REF="38">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Sparrow and the Spar|row-Hawk.</HEAD>
<P>TWO Sparrows had made their Ne&s;t under the Bough of a Tree, where they had al&s;o laid up &s;ome &s;mall Provi&s;ion for their young ones; but a Sparrow-Hawk, who had built his Ne&s;t upon the top of a Mountain, at the foot of which this Tree grew, came and eat up the young Sparrows, which was a great Affli|ction to both their Parents. Neverthele&s;s, af|ter this, they bred up their young ones &s;o well, and in &s;o much &s;afety, that they had both of 'em the plea&s;ure to &s;ee 'em ready to Fly. The Father and the Mother by their continual Chirping, te&s;tified their Joy for &s;uch a Happi|ne&s;s; but all of a &s;udden they fell into a pro|found Melancholy, which was caus'd through extremity of Fear, le&s;t the Sparrow-Hawk &s;hould devour their young ones as he had done before. The elde&s;t of the&s;e young Sparrows de&s;ired to know of his Father the rea&s;on of his Affliction; which his Father having di&s;cover'd to him, he made an&s;wer, that 'twas a folly for him to with&s;tand his De&s;tiny, but that it rather became him to &s;eek out &s;ome way to remove &s;o dangerous a Neighbour. All the Sparrows ap|prov'd this Advice. The Mother flew to get Food for her young ones; and the Father flew another way in &s;earch of &s;ome Cure for his Sorrows. After he had flown about for &s;ome time, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, whither &s;hall I flye, and to whom &s;hall I di&s;cover my Troubles? At length he re&s;olv'd to addre&s;s him&s;elf to the
<PB N="62" REF="39">fir&s;t Creature he met, and to Con&s;ult him about his Bu&s;ine&s;s. This fir&s;t Creature was a Salamander, who&s;e extraordinary Shape at fir&s;t affrighted him: However, the Sparrow would not alter his Re&s;olution, but acco&s;ted and &s;alu|ted him. The Salamander, who was very ci|vil, gave him an obliging Reception, and look|ing upon him with a fix'd Eye, Friend, &s;aid he, I di&s;cover much trouble in thy Countenance: If it proceed from wearine&s;s, &s;it down and re&s;t thy &s;elf; if from any other Cau&s;e, let me know it, that I may provide thee a Remedy, if it lye in my power. With that the Sparrow told him his Misfortunes in &s;uch moving Language, as rais'd Compa&s;&s;ion in the Salamander. Well, &s;aid the Salamander, by way of Con&s;olation, let not the&s;e Troubles any more perplex thee; I'll deliver thee from this wicked Neighbour this very Night; only &s;hew me his Ne&s;t, then go to roo&s;t with thy young ones; which the Spar|row did accordingly, and then return'd the Sa|lamander Thanks for being &s;o much concern'd in his Misfortunes.</P>
<P>No &s;ooner was the Night come, but the Sa|lamander and &s;everal others of his own Gang, went directly with every one a bit of lighted Sulphur in their Mouths to the Sparrow-Hawk's Ne&s;t, who not dreaming of any &s;uch thing was &s;urpriz'd by the Salamanders, who threw the Sulphur into his Ne&s;t, and burnt him with all his young ones.</P>
<P>This Fable teaches ye, that whoever has a de&s;ign to ruin his Enemy, may bring it about let him be never &s;o weak. But <HI>Chotorbe</HI> is the King's chief Favourite, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> and it will be a difficult thing to ruin him; for where
<PB N="63" REF="39">prudent Princes have plac'd their Confidence they &s;eldom withdraw it becau&s;e of a bare Re|port. It may be repre&s;ented to the Lion, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> that one of &s;ix things which cau&s;e the Ruin of Kingdoms, and which is indeed the Principal, is to neglect and contemn Men of Wit and Courage. What are the other five, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> The &s;econd, continu'd <HI>Damna,</HI> is not to puni&s;h the &s;editious; the third is to be too much given to Women, to Play and Diver|ti&s;ments; Fourthly the Accidents attending a Pe&s;tilence, a Famin, or an Earth-quake. The fifth is being too ra&s;h and violent; and the &s;ixth is, the preferring War before Peace. I find &s;aid <HI>Kalila,</HI> that you are re&s;olv'd to be a Carver of your own Revenge; but con&s;ider that whoever meditates Mi&s;chief, brings it at la&s;t upon his own Head. On the other &s;ide, he that &s;tudy's his Neighbours welfare, pro&s;pers in what he undertakes, as you may &s;ee by the en&s;uing Eable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="64" REF="40">
<HEAD>The Fable of a King, who of a Tyrant, as he was, became Benigne and Ju&s;t.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a Certain King who did nothing but Tyrannize over his People; he ruin'd the Rich, mi&s;us'd the Poor; &s;o that all his Sub|jects, Day and Night, implor'd of Heav'n to be deliver'd from him. One Day, that he re|turn'd from Hunting, after he had &s;ummon'd his People together, Good People, &s;aid He, 'till this pre&s;ent time, the rea&s;on of my Tyran|nizing has been to all of you unknown. But I a&s;&s;ure you that from hence forward you &s;hall live in Peace and at Ea&s;e, and no body &s;hall dare to oppre&s;s you. The People were extreamly o|verjoy'd at this good News, and forbore pray|ing again&s;t the King.</P>
<P>In a Word, this Prince made &s;uch an Altera|tion in his conduct, that he acquir'd the Title of Ju&s;t, and every one began to ble&s;s the Feli|city of his Reign. One Day, one of his Fa|vourites pre&s;uming to ask him the rea&s;on of &s;o &s;uddain and &s;o remarkable a Change, the King gave him this an&s;wer. As I Rode a Hunt|ing t'other Day, I &s;aw a Dog in pur&s;uit of a Fox, and after he had overtaken him, he Bit off the lower part of his Leg: However <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">he Fox as lame as he was, made a &s;hift to e&s;|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">pe into a Hole. The Dog not able to get him out, left him there: But hardly had he <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">one a hundred paces, when a Man threw a <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">eat Stone at him and crackt his Scull: at the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">e In&s;tant the Man met a Hor&s;e that trod up|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters"> his Foot, and lam'd him for ever; &s;oon after
<PB N="65" REF="40">the Hor&s;e's Foot &s;tuck &s;o fa&s;t between two Stones, that he broke his Ankle-bone in &s;triv|ing to get it out. Then, &s;aid I to my &s;elf, Men are us'd as they u&s;e others. Whoever does that which he ought not to do, receives what he is not willing to receive.</P>
<P>This Example &s;hews you, that they who have a de&s;ign to do mi&s;chief, are generally puni&s;h'd for their evil Intentions. If you at|tempt to ruin <HI>Chotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">,</HI> you will repent of it: He is &s;tronger then you, and has more Fr<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="4 letters">s. Wit is beyond Strength, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> as the following Fable will convince you.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="66" REF="41">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Raven, a Fox and a Serpent.</HEAD>
<P>A Raven had built his Ne&s;t in the Cleft of a Mountain, and every time &s;he Hatcht, a Serpent came and devour'd her Young ones. The Raven complaining to a Fox that was one of his Friends, &s;aid &s;he to him, what would you advi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">e me to do to be rid of this Serpent? What d'you think to do? An&s;wer'd the Fox. I am re<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">lv'd, reply'd the Raven to go and Peck out his Eyes when he is a &s;leep, that &s;o he may no longer find the way to my Ne&s;t. The Fox di&s;approv'd this de&s;ign, and told the Raven, that it became a prudent Per&s;on to manage his Revenge in &s;uch a manner, that no Mi&s;chief might befal him in taking his Re|venge: Never venture the Misfortune that be|fel the Crane, of which I am going to tell the Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="67" REF="41">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Crane and the Cray-fi&s;h.</HEAD>
<P>A Crane had her Habitation by the &s;ide of a Lake, and liv'd upon &s;uch Fi&s;h as &s;he could catch; but being become old and feeble, &s;he could Fi&s;h no longer, which was a great affliction to her. I did ill &s;aid &s;he to her &s;elf, in not making nece&s;&s;ary Provi&s;ion to &s;upport me in my old Age; and therfore I mu&s;t now make u&s;e of &s;hift, and cunning to get a livelyhood: With that &s;he plac'd her&s;elf by the Water-&s;ide, and began to &s;igh and weep. A Cray-fi&s;h perceiving her at a di&s;tance, acco&s;ted her and ask'd her why &s;he wept? Alas, how can I o|therwi&s;e chu&s;e but grieve, &s;eeing my daily Nouri&s;hment like to be taken from me? For two Fi&s;her-men lately pa&s;&s;ing this way; &s;aid the one to the other. Here is great &s;tore of Fi&s;h, what think you of clearing this Pond. To whom his Companion an&s;wer'd, no &mdash; there is more in &s;uch a Lake: Let us go thither fir&s;t, and then come hither. If this be &s;o, added the Crane I mu&s;t &s;oon prepare for Death.</P>
<P>The Cray-fi&s;h hearing this, went to the Fi&s;h and told 'em what &s;he had heard: Upon which the poor Fi&s;h in great perplexity &s;wam imme|diately to the Crane, and addre&s;&s;ing them&s;elves to her, we are now, &s;aid they, in &s;o great a Con&s;ternation, that we are come to defire your Protection. Tho' you are our Enemy, yet Wi&s;emen tell us, that they who make their E|nemy their Sanctuary, may be a&s;&s;ur'd of being well receiv'd: you know full well that we are
<PB N="68" REF="42">your daily Food, and therefore con&s;ider and tell us what you think is the be&s;t cour&s;e for us to take. To which the Crane; that which you acquaint me with, I heard my &s;elf from the Mouths of the Fi&s;her-men; we have no power &s;ufficient to with&s;tand 'em; nor do I know any other way to &s;ecure you, but by removing you one after another into a little Pond here hardby, where there is very good Water, and where the Fi&s;her-men can never catch you, by rea&s;on of the Extraordinary depth of it. The Fi&s;h approv'd this Coun&s;el, and de&s;ir'd the Crane to carry 'em one by one into this Pond. Nor did &s;he fail to Fi&s;h up three or four every Morning, but &s;he carry'd 'em to the Top of a &s;mall Hill, where &s;he eat 'em: And thus &s;he Fea&s;ted her &s;elf for a while.</P>
<P>One Day, the Cray-fi&s;h, having a de&s;ire to &s;ee this delicate Pond made known her curio&s;ity to the Crane, who bethinking her &s;elf that the Cray-fi&s;h was her mo&s;t mortal Enemy, re|&s;olv'd to Murder her as &s;he had done the Re&s;t: And with this de&s;ign &s;he flung the Cray-fi&s;h upon her Neck, and flew towards the Hill. But the Cray-fi&s;h &s;pying at a di&s;tance the &s;mall Bones of her Companions, mi&s;tru&s;ted the Cranes Intention, and laying hold of a fair Opportunity, got the Cranes Neck in her Claw, and gra&s;p'd it &s;o hard, that &s;he &s;trangl'd the Crane.</P>
<P>This Example &s;hews you that Crafty, trick|ing People are often Victimes to their own Cunning. The Raven returning Thanks to the Fox for his good Advice, Sir, &s;aid &s;he, I &s;hall not by any means neglect your whole&s;ome In|&s;tructions; but what &s;hall I do? You mu&s;t,
<PB N="69" REF="42">Reply'd the Fox? Snatch up &s;omthing that be|longs to &s;ome body that &s;ees what you do, to the end he may follow you. Which he may ea&s;ily do, if you fly &s;lowly; and when you are ju&s;t over the Serpents Hole, let fall the thing that you hold in your Beak or Talons whatever it be, for then the Per&s;on that fol|lows you, &s;eeing the Serpent come forth, will knock him o'th Head. The Raven did as the Fox advis'd him, and by that means was deliver'd from the Serpent.</P>
<P>What cannot be done by &s;trength, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> is to be perform'd by Policy. 'Tis very true, reply'd <HI>Kalila;</HI> but the Ox has more Policy then you. He will by his Prudence fru&s;trate all your Projects, and before you can pluck one Hair from his Tail, he will flea off your Skin. I know not whether you have heard of the Fable of the Rabbet and the Fox: I will tell it you, that you may make your Advantage of it.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="70" REF="43">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Rabbet, the Fox and the Wolf.</HEAD>
<P>A Hungry Wolf &s;py'd a Rabbet feeding at the Foot of a Tree, and had an intention to &s;eize him. The Rabbet perceiving him, would fain have &s;ay'd his life by F<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">ght, but the Wolf threw him&s;elf in his way, and &s;topt his E&s;cape. So that the Rabber &s;eeing him&s;elf in the power of the Wolf, &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive and pro&s;trate at his Feet gave him all the good Words he could think of. I know, &s;aid He, that the King of all Creatures wants a &s;upply to appea&s;e his Hunger, and that he is now ranging the Fields in &s;earch of Food; but I am but an <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">n&s;ignificant Mor&s;el for his Royal Stomack: Therefore let him be pleas'd to take my Information. About a Furlong from hence lives a Fox that is Far and Plump, and who&s;e Fle&s;h <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s as white as a Capons: Such a Prey wal do your Maje&s;ties Bu&s;ine&s;s. If you plea&s;e I will go and give him a Vi&s;i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">, and en|g<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ge him to come forth of his H<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">le: Then, if he prove to your l<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">king, you may devour him; if not, it will be my Glory that I had the Honour of being a &s;mall Breakfe&s;t for your Maje&s;ty</P>
<P>Thus over-per&s;uaded the Wolf gave the Rabbet leave to &s;eek out the Fox, and fol|lowd him at the Heels. The Rabbet left the Wolf at the Entrance of the Hole and crept in him&s;elf, o'rejoy'd that he had &s;uch an Oppor|tunity to revenge him&s;elf of the Fox, from whom he had receiv'd an Affront which he had for along time di&s;&s;embl'd. He made him a
<PB N="71" REF="43">low Congie, and gave him great Demon&s;trati|ons of his Friend&s;hip. On the other &s;ide, the Fox was no le&s;s obliging in his An&s;wers to the Rabbets Civilities, and ask'd him what good wind had blown him thither. Only the great de&s;ire I had to &s;ee your Wor&s;hip, reply'd the Rabbet, and there is one of my Relations at the Door who is no le&s;s ambitious to ki&s;s your hands, but he dares not enter without your permi&s;&s;ion. But then the Fox mi&s;tru&s;ting there was &s;omthing more then ordinary in all this glozing, well &s;aid He to him&s;elf, I mu&s;t pay this pretended Friend of mine in his own Coin. However not &s;eeming to take any notice of any thing, Sir, &s;aid he to the Rabbet, your Friend &s;hall be very welcome, he does me too much honour &mdash; but, added he, I mu&s;t entreat you to let me put my Chamber in a little bet|ter order to receive him. The Rabbet too much per&s;naded of the good Succe&s;s of his Enter|p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">e puh, puh, &s;aid He, my Relation is one that never &s;tands upon Ceremonies, and &s;o went out to give the Wolf notice that the Fox was fall'n into the &s;nare. And now the Wolf thought he had the Fox fa&s;t already, and the Rabbet believ'd him&s;elf quite out of danger, as having done the Wolf &s;uch a piece of good Ser|vice But the Fox had at the Entrance of his Hole, a very deep Trench, which he had digg'd on purpo&s;e to guard him again&s;t all &s;urprizes of this nature. Pre&s;ently therefore he took a|way the Planks, which he had lay'd for the Convenience of tho&s;e that came to Vi&s;it him, cover'd the Trench with a little Earth and Straw, and &s;et open a Back Door in ca&s;e of nece&s;&s;ity; and having thus prepar'd all things
<PB N="72" REF="44">in a readine&s;s, he de&s;ir'd the Rabbet and his Friend to walk in. But then it was, that the Wolf no le&s;s Hungry then the Rabbet was de&s;irous to make his e&s;cape, fell both into the Trench. Upon which the Wolf imagining that the Rabbet had a hand in the contrivance, in the heat of his fury, tore him to Pieces.</P>
<P>By this you &s;ee, that Finene&s;s and Policy &s;ig|nifie nothing, where you meet Men of Wit and Prudence. 'Tis very true, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> but the Ox is now proud of his Preferment, nei|ther has he the lea&s;t Su&s;picion of my Hatred. A Rabbet wi&s;er then that you &s;poke of la&s;t, undertook the ruin of a Lion, and you &s;hall &s;ee how he brought it about.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="73" REF="44">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Lion and the Rabbet.</HEAD>
<P>IN the Parts adjoyning to <HI>Raydet</HI> there was a very delightful Meadow, where &s;everal Wild Bea&s;ts had taken up their Habitations by rea&s;on of the Plea&s;antne&s;s of the Place. Among tho&s;e Creatures there was a furious Lion, who di&s;turb'd the Peace of all the re&s;t with his continual Murders. One Day, there|fore, they met all together, went to wait upon the Lion, and lay'd before him that they were his Subjects, and by con&s;equence, that it no way became him to make &s;uch dreadful &s;laugh|ters of whole Families together. You &s;eek after us, added they, and we avoy'd you; would you live and enjoy your quiet, by let|ing us alone, we would bring a whole Flasket of Tame and Wildfowl, and you &s;hould never be put to the Toyl of Hunting. The Lion ac|cepted this Propo&s;al, and the Bea&s;ts ca&s;t lots e|very Morning, and he upon whom the lot fell was appointed to hunt for the Lion.</P>
<P>One Day the lot fell upon the Rabbet. who &s;eeing he could not avoy'd it, after he had &s;um|mon'd all the Bea&s;ts together, if you will &s;tand by me, &s;aid He, I will certainly deliver you from this cruel Tyrant that Reigns over us. To which they all unanimou&s;ly an&s;wer'd, that they would do their utmo&s;t: Upon this the Rabbet &s;tay'd till the Hour of Dinner was pa&s;t: By which time the Lions anger augment|ed with his Appetite; he la&s;ht the Ground with his Tayl, and perceiving the Rabbet, Whence come you, &s;aid He, and what are my Subjects
<PB N="74" REF="45">a doing? May it plea&s;e your Maje&s;ty, an&s;wer'd the Rabbet, bowing to him with a profound Re&s;pect, your Subjects &s;ent me hither to bring your Maje&s;ty your accu&s;tom'd Provi&s;ion; but I met a Lion by the way who took it from me. I told him, it was for the King: To which He an&s;wer'd, that there was no other King in this Country but him&s;elf; and now I am come to inform your Maje&s;ty of this hainous piece of in&s;olence. Then the Lion, opening his burn|ing Eyes, cry'd out, who is this Audacious U&s;urper that dares to lay his Paw upon my Dinner? Can&s;t thou &s;hew me where this hair|brain'd <HI>Roy&s;ter</HI> lives? Yes, Sir, reply'd the Rabbet, if you'l but be pleas'd to follow me: And when they came to a Well that was full of clear Water, Sir, &s;aid the Rabbet to the Lion, your Enemy lives in this Well, but I dare not &s;hew him you, and therefore look your &s;elf and you'l &s;ee him as plain as the No&s;e i'your Face: Have a care however that you are not fir&s;t a&s;&s;ail'd. With that the Lion went &s;talking to the Well, and &s;eeing another Lion i'the Wa|ter, which he took for his Enemy that had de|vour'd his Food, enflam'd with Anger he flung him&s;elf into the Well to encounter his Mortal Foe and there was drown'd him&s;elf.</P>
<P>This Fable &s;hews you, that a &s;trong Man may be &s;urpriz'd by one that is much weaker, when he is not mi&s;tru&s;ted. Well, well, &s;aid <HI>Ka|lila,</HI> if you can ruin the Ox without doing the Lion any harm, go on and pro&s;per; if not, I advi&s;e you to give over your Enterpri&s;e: For it does not become a Subject for his own pri|vate Intere&s;t and repo&s;e to &s;uffer any Mi&s;chief to befall his Prince.</P>
<PB N="75" REF="45">
<P>Here the Confabulation between <HI>Damna</HI> and <HI>Kalila</HI> ended, and <HI>Damna</HI> having taken leave of his Wife, ab&s;ented him&s;elf at a great di&s;tance from the Lion's Court. Some time after he return'd, and affecting an Air of Sadne&s;s before his Maje&s;ty, Oh hone&s;t <HI>Damna</HI> &s;aid the King to Him, whence com&s;t thou? Where ha&s;t thou been this long time? Is there any News abroad? Yes, Sir, an&s;wer'd <HI>Damna.</HI> Then the King &s;tarting for fear, what is it, &s;aid he to <HI>Damna?</HI> I beg your Maje&s;ty, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> that you will be pleas'd to grant me a private Audience. Affairs of Importance ought never to be delay'd, reply'd the King; and &s;o commanding the Room to be clear'd, order'd <HI>Damna</HI> to go on and &s;peak what he had to &s;ay. Then <HI>Damna,</HI> 'tis requi&s;ite, &s;aid He, that the Bearer of ill News &s;hould have the addre&s;s to give it an Allay; and that he to whom it is reported &s;hould be able to judge, whether the Per&s;on that makes the Report be worthy to be Credit|ed, or whether he &s;peak for his own Intere&s;t. If he be worthy to be believ'd, he ought to be confided in, when his di&s;cour&s;e may be advan|tageous to the Public. The Lion, interrutping him, thou know&s;t, &s;aid He, that I have expe|rienc'd thy Fidelity, and therefore &s;peak bold|ly, what thou ha&s;t to &s;ay. The Purity of my Intentions, continu'd <HI>Damna,</HI> have made me to a&s;&s;ume this Boldne&s;s, and I am more then happy to be known to your Maje&s;ty. I que&s;ti|on not thy Zeal, &s;aid the Lion; but prithe come to the News, which it &s;o much concerns me to know.</P>
<P>When <HI>Damna</HI> perceiv'd the good &s;ucce&s;s of his Flatteries, and that the King had a Confi|dence
<PB N="76" REF="46">in him, he thus began his Di&s;cour&s;e. Sir, &s;aid He, <HI>Chotorbe</HI> has daily conferences with the Grandees and Chieftains of your Army, and I partly know that he improves your faint-heartedne&s;s as much as lies in his Power to your Prejudice; which makes me believe he has &s;ome de&s;ign upon your Per&s;on. 'Tis to be ad|mir'd, that he &s;hould &s;o ungratefully abu&s;e your Favours, and the particular Friend&s;hip with which you are pleas'd to Honour him. <HI>Damna,</HI> cry'd the Lion; take a care what thou &s;ay'&s;t: If this be true, what cour&s;e is to be taken? Sir, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> there are two &s;orts of People, the one Sage and Prudent; the other Ra&s;h and Incon&s;iderate. The one are always at a lo&s;s, when any accident befals 'em; the other fore&s;ee things, and nothing moves 'em, whatever happens. We ought therefore to imitate their Prudence, and to &s;ecure our &s;elves from danger, &s;o &s;oon as we have the lea&s;t Inkling of it. There are another &s;ort of People who never truly fore&s;ee Danger, but who know how to take their proper cour&s;es when it pre&s;ents it &s;elf: And the&s;e three Characters put me in mind of the Fable of the three Fi&s;h, which I would tell your Maje&s;ty, did I not fear it might offen'd your Patience. But the Lion commanded him to let him hear it out, and &s;o <HI>Damna</HI> thus proceeded.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="77" REF="46">
<HEAD>The Fable of the two Fi&s;her-men, and the three Fi&s;h.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a certain Pond, of which the Water was very clear, and empty'd it &s;elf into a River. It was remote from the High|way, and there were in it three Fi&s;h, One of which was prudent, the &s;econd had but little Wit, and the third was a meer Fool. One Day, by chance two Fi&s;her-men perceiv'd this Pond, they made up to it, and they no &s;ooner ob&s;erv'd the&s;e three Fi&s;h which were Large and Fat, but they went and fetch'd their Nets. The Fi&s;h &s;u&s;pecting the Fi&s;her-mens de&s;ign, were in a peck of Troubles. The prudent Fi&s;h immediately re&s;olv'd what Cour&s;e totake. He threw him&s;elf out of the Pond, through the litte Channel that open'd into the River, and &s;o made his E&s;cape. The next Morning the two Fi&s;her-men return'd, and &s;top'd up all the Pa&s;|&s;ages, to prevent the Fi&s;h from getting out. The half witted Fi&s;h, repented then that he had not follow'd his Companion; but at length he bethought him&s;elf of a Stratagem; he ap|pear'd upon the Surface of the Water with his Belly upward, and fain'd to be Dead. The Fi&s;her-men al&s;o having tak'n him, thought him really what he Counterfeited him&s;elf to be, &s;o that they threw him again into the Water. The la&s;t, which was the fooli&s;h Fi&s;h, &s;eeing him&s;elf pre&s;s'd by the Fi&s;her-men, &s;unk down to the Bottom of the Pond, and &s;hifted up and down from Place to Place, but could not avoid fall|ing into their hands.</P>
<PB N="78" REF="47">
<P>This Example &s;hews your Maje&s;ty, that you ought to prevent <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> by making your &s;elf Ma&s;ter of his Life, before he have yours at his Command. What you &s;ay is ve|ry agreeable to rea&s;on, &s;aid the King; but I cannot believe that <HI>Chotorbe</HI> upon whom I have heap'd &s;o many Favours, &s;hould be &s;o perfidious as you repre&s;ent him. 'Tis true, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> that he never receiv'd any thing but Kindne&s;s from your Maje&s;ty; but what is bread i'the Bone will never out of the Fle&s;h; neither can any thing come out of a Ve&s;&s;el but what is put into it. Of which the following Fable is a &s;uffi|cient Proof.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="79" REF="47">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Scorpion and the Tortoi&s;e.</HEAD>
<P>ATortoi&s;e and a Scorpion had bound them|&s;elves in &s;uch a Tye of Friend&s;hip, that the one could not live without the other. One Day, finding them&s;elves oblig'd to change their Habitation, they Travell'd together, but meeting with a River, the Scorpion making a &s;top, &s;aid He to the Tortoi&s;e, how &s;hall I get over the Water? Never trouble your &s;elf my dear Friend for that, reply'd the Tortoi&s;e, I'll carry you upon my back &s;ecure from all manner of Danger. In &s;hort the Scorpion got upon the Back of the Tortoi&s;e, who took Wa|ter and began to Swim. But he was hardly got half way the River, when he heard a Terri|ble Rumbling upon his Back, which made him ask the Scorpion what he was doing? Doing! Reply'd the Scorpion, why I am whet|ting my Sting, to try whether I can bore this Horny Cura&s;s of yours that covers your Fle&s;h. Oh Ingrateful Wretch, then cry'd the Tortoi&s;e, would&s;t thou, at a time when I am giving thee &s;uch a Demon&s;tration of my Friend&s;hip, would'&s;t thou at &s;uch a time, Pierce with thy Venomous Sting the Defence that Nature has given me, and take away my life?</P>
<P>Sir, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> pur&s;uing his Di&s;cour&s;e, the Wicked are never to be favour'd. You urge me too hard upon this Subject, &s;aid the Lion, were <HI>Chotorbe</HI> capable of &s;o much perfidiou&s;|ne&s;s, he would certainly have &s;hewn his ma|licious Intentions before this. Never tru&s;t to that, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> he carries on his De&s;ign
<PB N="80" REF="48">with more prudence. He will not attack your Maje&s;ty's Per&s;on in Particular, he will fir&s;t Cajole your whole Court, and delude 'em into his Intere&s;ts. You &s;ay &s;omething now, &s;aid the Lion, Interrupting him, but how &s;hall we find a fair pretence to be rid of him? Let me a|lone for that, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> a faithle&s;s Sub|ject mu&s;t be Puni&s;h'd.</P>
<P>The&s;e Amu&s;ements of the &s;ubtle Fox made &s;uch an Impre&s;&s;ion in the mind of the King, that he re&s;olv'd to admit <HI>Chotorb</HI> no more into his pre|&s;ence, but to bani&s;h him altogether from his Court, after he had let him know the rea&s;on of his Fall. But <HI>Damna,</HI> fearing le&s;t <HI>Chotorb</HI> &s;hould di&s;cover his Villany, Sir, &s;aid He, I have heard from Per&s;ons of Under&s;tanding, that a Prince ought never to inflict Public Pu|ni&s;hment upon faults committed in Secret. Nor &s;ecretly to cha&s;ti&s;e public Crimes: There|fore, &s;eeing <HI>Chotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> is a &s;ecret Tran&s;gre&s;&s;our, he mu&s;t be privately Puni&s;h'd. 'Tis a great piece of Inju&s;tice, reply'd the Lion, to puni&s;h any one, before he be told the rea&s;on of his Pu|ni&s;hment. 'Twill be be &s;ufficient, an&s;wer'd <HI>Damna,</HI> that once for all you make him &s;en&s;i|ble of your Di&s;plea&s;ure, and that you give him a cold Reception: His Con&s;cience will up|braid him with his perfidiou&s;ne&s;s at the &s;ame in&s;tant, and he will no longer doubt but that you are preparing for him his due Reward. You will perceive him al&s;o Di&s;turb'd and Agi|tated in his Mind, which will be an evident Proof of the Truth of my Su&s;pitions. If it be &s;o, reply'd the Lion, I &s;hall be &s;oon convinc'd of his Trea&s;on.</P>
<PB N="81" REF="48">
<P><HI>Damna,</HI> &s;eeing the King &s;o well prepar'd to his Hearts de&s;ire, went to <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> and made him a low Bow. To whom, the Ox, after many Care&s;&s;es, What's the Rea&s;on, &s;aid He, that you come to &s;ee me no oftner? Is it be|cau&s;e you think me no longer one of your Friends? Tho' I have been ab&s;ent for &s;ome time, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> Yet have I &s;till pre&s;erv'd you in my Thoughts. But why, reply'd the Ox, did you retire from the Court? Becau&s;e I love my Liberty, reply'd <HI>Damna;</HI> and when we are in the Kings Pre&s;ence, we tremble for fear, as being always under re&s;traint. You look cry'd the Ox, as if you were not &s;atisfi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d with the King, and were afraid of &s;ome Misfortune. 'Tis very true, an&s;wer'd <HI>Damna,</HI> but 'tis for your &s;ake, and not for my own that I am in this perplexity. Poor <HI>Chotorbe</HI> terribly fright|ed at this an&s;wer, my Dear Friend &s;aid He to <HI>Damna,</HI> let me know the Danger that Threat|ens me. Why truly, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> a Friend of mine has in tru&s;ted me with a private di&s;|cour&s;e which pa&s;t &s;ome Days ago, between the King and a great Per&s;on who has no Kindne&s;s for your Lord&s;hip. Said the King to this great Per&s;on, <HI>Chotorbe is now very Fat and of no u&s;e to us; now I mu&s;t fea&s;t all the Lords of my Court; and therefore I think my cheape&s;t way will be to Roa&s;t this Ox alive and whole for their Enter|tainment.</HI> I bring you this News to convince you that I am your Real Friend, and to a&s;&s;i&s;t you, as far as lyes in my power, to avoy'd the Danger. <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> a&s;toni&s;h'd at this Piece of four Intelligence: But by what Device, &s;aid He, &s;hall I be able to e&s;cape this Intended Cru|elty of the King? Alas, good Heaven is my
<PB N="82" REF="49">Witne&s;s, I never gave him the lea&s;t Occa&s;ion to u&s;e me &s;o &s;everely. Certainly I mu&s;t have &s;ome private Enemy who has fal&s;ely accus'd me to his Maje&s;ty behind my Back, and incens'd him without a Cau&s;e again&s;t me. He is like the Drake, who &s;eeing the Re&s;emblance of the Moon in the Water, thought it to be &s;ome extra|ordinary Fi&s;h, and deluded with that Errour div'd &s;everal times to catch it; but mad to &s;ee that all his Efforts &s;hould prove Vain; he came out of the Water, &s;wearing never to re|turn to that Element again: And after that, tho' he were never &s;o Hungry, he would ne|ver Dive more after any Fi&s;h, believing it to be only the light of the Moon. Backbiters and Flatterers have &s;o prepo&s;&s;e&s;s'd the Lion a|gain&s;t me, that whatever I do hence forward to plea&s;e him, he will &s;till believe that I only di&s;&s;emble. It may be, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> the King may alter his Mind: On the other &s;ide, being ab&s;olute in his Power, he may, without being bound to give any rea&s;on, Condemn you to Death. 'Tis true, reply'd <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> that Prin|ces many times repay with Ingratitude the Ser|vices of their mo&s;t faithful Subjects, as you may &s;ee by the En&s;uing Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="83" REF="49">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Falcon and the Hen.</HEAD>
<P>HU&s;&s;ie, &s;aid a Falcon to a Hen, you are an ingrateful Slut. Why, what ingrati|tude have you ob&s;erv'd in me, reply'd the Hen? Can there be a greater Piece of In|gratitude, reply'd the Falcon, then that which you commit in reference to Men? By Day, they &s;eek out every where for Nou|ri&s;hment to Fat you, and in the Night time you have a place always ready to Roo&s;t in. They take care that your Chamber be clo&s;e Barr'd up that nothing may trou|ble your Repo&s;e: Neverthele&s;s when they de&s;ire to catch you, you run away; which I never do; I, that am a Wild Bird of Prey. Upon the meane&s;t of their Care&s;&s;es I grow Tame; &s;uffer my &s;elf to be taken, and I never Eat but upon their Fi&s;ts. All this is very true, reply'd the Hen: But I find you know not the Rea&s;on, of my Flight: And wherefore is it? Becau&s;e you never &s;aw a Falcon upon the Spit; but I have &s;een a thou&s;and Hens dre&s;t with all manner of Sauces.</P>
<P>I have recited this Fable, to &s;hew you, that they who are &s;o ambitious of a Court Life, know not the Inconveniences of it. I believe, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> that the Lion &s;eeks your Life for no other Rea&s;on, but becau&s;e he is jealous of your Vertues. 'Tis a certain Truth, reply'd <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> that the Fruit Trees only are &s;ubject to have their
<PB N="84" REF="50">Branches Broken; Nightingales are Cag'd becau&s;e they Sing more Plea&s;antly then o|ther Birds; and we pluck the Peacocks Feathers from their Tayls, for no other rea&s;on but becau&s;e they are Beautiful. And thus at this Day, the Wicked who are Cloath'd with the outward &s;hews of Vertue, are much more Honour'd then Per&s;ons tru|ly Vertuous. However I am not afraid of whatever Contrivances the Malice of Wick|ed People can Weave to my Prejudice. I will Imitate the Nightingale in the follow|ing Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="85" REF="50">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Nightingale and the Country-man.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Country-man had a Ro&s;e-bu&s;h in his Garden, which he made his whole Delight. He had &s;o great a kindne&s;s for it, that every Morning he went to look upon it, and &s;ee his Ro&s;es ready to blow. One Day, as he was admiring, according to his Cu&s;tom, the Beauty of his Flowers, he &s;py'd a Nightin|gale perch'd upon one of the Rofes, and pluck|ing off the Leaves one after another. Which put him into &s;o great a Pa&s;&s;ion, that the next Day he lay'd a Snare for the Nightingale, in revenge of the wrong which he pretended to have receiv'd from Her. In &s;hort he took the Bird and put her in a Cage. The Nightingale very Melancholy to &s;ee her &s;elf in that Condi|tion, with a Mournful Voice ask'd the Coun|try-man the Rea&s;on of her Slavery. To whom the Country-man: Know, &s;aid He, that thou toare&s;t my Heart, when thou toare&s;t the lovely Leaves of my Ro&s;es. Ala&s;s, reply'd the Nigh|tingale, you u&s;e me very &s;everely for having cropt a few Leaves from a Ro&s;e. But how mu&s;t you expect to be us'd in the other World, for afflicting me in this manner! For in the other World all People are us'd after the &s;ame manner as they deal by their Neighbours. The Country-man mov'd with the&s;e words, gave the Nightingale her Liberty again; for which the Nightingale being no le&s;s willing to thank him; Friend, &s;aid She, &s;ince you have done me this favour, I will repay your Kindne&s;s in
<PB N="86" REF="51">the &s;ame manner. Know then, that at the Foot of yonder Tree lyes bury'd a Pot full of Gold, go and take it, and Heaven ble&s;s you with it. The Country-man digg'd about the Tree, and finding the Pot, I wonder, &s;aid He, to the Nightingale, that being able to &s;ee this Pot, which was bury'd under Ground, you could not di&s;cover the Net that was &s;pread for your Captivity. Know you not, reply'd the Nightingale that we can never e&s;cape our De&s;tiny?</P>
<P>By this Example you &s;ee that we are wholly to re&s;ign our &s;elves up to our Fate. 'Tis ve|ry true, reply'd <HI>Damna;</HI> however the Lion &s;eeking your De&s;truction will incur divine Puni&s;hment; and being &s;o de&s;irous as he is to augment his Grandeur by your Fall, what be|fel the Hunter, will be his De&s;tiny.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="87" REF="51">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Hunter, the Fox and the Leopard.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Hunter, &s;aid <HI>Damna</HI> pur&s;uing, his Di&s;cour&s;e, e&s;py'd in the middle of a Field a Fox that lookt with &s;o cunning an A&s;pect, and who had on a Skin &s;o fair and lovely, that he had a great de&s;ire to take him alive. To this purpo&s;e he found out his Hole, and ju&s;t before the Entrance in|to it he digg'd a very deep Trench, which he cover'd with &s;lender Twigs and Straw, and having eas'd Nature upon it, he went and hid him&s;elf in a Corner out of &s;ight. The Fox returning to his Hole, &s;melling the &s;trong Scent of what the Hunter had left for his Breakfa&s;t, pre&s;ently ran to &s;ee what dainty Mor&s;el it was. When he came to the Trench, the Fox would fain have been ta&s;ting the delicate Mor&s;el; but the fear of &s;ome Treachery would not permit him to fall too: So that he remov'd his Lodging and took up other Quarters. In a moment after came a hungry Leopard, who being tempted by the Savoury Odour of the Reaking Electuary, made &s;uch ha&s;t to fall on, that he tumbl'd into the Trench. The Hunter hearing the Noi&s;e of the falling Leopard, threw him&s;elf into the Trench, without looking into it, becau&s;e he never que&s;tion'd but that it had been the Fox: But there he found the Leopard which tore him in Pieces and devour'd him.</P>
<PB N="88" REF="52">
<P>This Fable teaches us that Prudence and Wi&s;dom ought to regulate our De&s;ires. Then <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> I did very ill, &s;aid He, to accept the Lions offer. 'Tis not enough, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> interrupting him, to repent and bewail your pa&s;t Actions, you mu&s;t now make it your Bu&s;ine&s;s to moderate the Lions Pa&s;&s;ion. I am a&s;&s;ur'd of his good will reply'd <HI>Chotorbe;</HI> but Traytours and Flat|ters will do their utmo&s;t to change his Favour into Hatred; and am afraid they will bring about their de&s;igns in the &s;ame manner as the Wolf, the Fox and the Raven ruin'd the Cammel.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="89" REF="52">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Wolf, the Fox, the Ra|ven and the Cammel.</HEAD>
<P>IN former times &s;aid <HI>Chotorb&egrave;,</HI> there was a Crafty Raven, a Subtle Fox, and a Bloo|dy Wolf who put them&s;elves into the Service of a Lion, that held his Court in a Wood upon the Highway. Near this place a Mer|chants Cammel quite tyr'd with long Travel lay down to re&s;t him&s;elf: And in a few Days after having recover'd his &s;trength, he en|ter'd into the Lions Wood with a de&s;ign to Feed. But he was &s;trangely a&s;toni&s;h'd when he &s;aw the Lion there: He offer'd him his Ser|vice; the Lion accepted it, and after he knew by what Accident he came into the Place, he ask'd him what he would do? Whate|ver your Maje&s;ty plea&s;es, reply'd the Cammel. If thou wilt live with me, reply'd the Lion, thou &s;halt be &s;ecure. The Cammel was very glad of this, and remain'd with the Lion, doing nothing but feed without di&s;|turbance, &s;o that he became Plump and Fat.</P>
<P>One Day the Lion going a Hunting, met an Elephant with whom he Encounter'd: But returning Wounded to the Wood, was &s;tarv'd to Death. While he lay upon his Death Bed, the Wolf and the Fox, who liv'd only upon what the Lion left after he had been a Field, fell into a deep Melancholy, which the Lion perceiving, I am more &s;orry, &s;aid He, for your &s;adne&s;s then my own Wounds: Go and &s;ee if you meet with any Ven&s;on in
<PB N="90" REF="53">the Purlieus adjoyning: If you do, return and give me Notice and I will go and &s;eize it for you. Upon that, away they went, left the Lion, and held a Council all three toge|ther. Said the Wolf, what good does this Cammel do us here? We have no Corre&s;pond|ence with him; nor does the Lion get any thing by him; then let us kill him, he will keep us alive for two or three Days, and by that time the King may be cur'd of his Wounds. But this advice did no way plea&s;e the Fox, who affirm'd that the Cammels life could not be ju&s;tly taken away, &s;ince the Lion had given him his word that he &s;hould live unmole&s;ted in the Wood: That &s;uch an Acti|on would render the King Odious to all Po&s;te|rity, who would look upon him as a perfidi|ous Per&s;on, who gave Protection to a &s;trang|er within his Dominions, only to put him to Death without a Cau&s;e, and gain by his De|&s;truction.</P>
<P>The Raven, who had a great deal of Wit and as much Malice, reconcil'd both the&s;e O|pinions, &s;aying that there might be a fair Pre|tence found to colour the Death of the Cam|mel. Stay here then till I return; and &s;o &s;ay|ing, away he went to the Lion; and when he came into his Pre&s;ence, Sir, &s;aid He, we are almo&s;t fami&s;h'd to Death, and for that rea&s;on &s;o weak that we can hardly Crawl along: But we have found out a Remedy for all this; and if your Maje&s;ty will but give leave we &s;hall have a Fea&s;t. What is you remedy? An&s;wer'd the Lion, hardly able to open his Jaws. To whom the Rav'n, Sir, &s;aid He, the Cam|mel lives like a Hermite in your Kingdom,
<PB N="91" REF="53">never comes near us, neither is he good for any thing but to &s;atisfy our Hunger. And in regard your Maje&s;ty wants good and whole|&s;ome Dyet in your Condition, Cammels Fle&s;h (for I am &s;o much a Surgeon) may be very proper for you. The Lion, highly, incens'd at this Propo&s;al of the Raven, Oh! What a wicked and Treacherous Age is this! Cry'd He. How will you prove it lawful to be faithle&s;s, and violate a&s;certain'd Promi&s;es? I know nothing of that, Sir, reply'd the Ra|ven; but great Ca&s;ui&s;ts hold it for a Maxim, That a &s;ingle Per&s;on may be &s;acrific'd to the welfare of a whole Nation, or the Pre&s;ervati|on of the Kings Life. Be&s;ides, there may be &s;ome Expedient found out to di&s;ingage your Maje&s;ty from your Promi&s;e. Upon that, the Lion bow'd down his Head to con&s;ider of it, and the Raven return'd to his Companions, to whom he related what di&s;cour&s;e had pa&s;t be|tween the King and him. And now, &s;aid the Raven, let us go to the Cammel, and inform him of the unfortunate Accident that has befallen the King, and of his being like to Starve; And then, let us lay before him, that &s;ince we have &s;pent the greate&s;t Part of our Lives in Peace and Plenty under the King Reign, it is but ju&s;t, we &s;hould &s;urrender up our own, to prolong his Days.</P>
<P>In pur&s;uance of this Di&s;cour&s;e, which will engage the Cammel to accompany us, we will go to the King and offer him our three Carka&s;&s;es; &s;triving at the &s;ame time which &s;hall be mo&s;t free of his Fle&s;h to &s;erve the King for his pre&s;ent Nouri&s;hment. The Cammel
<PB N="92" REF="54">perhaps will then be willing to &s;acrifice him&s;elf; and then we'll take him at his Word; and our de&s;ign will &s;ucceed. In &s;hort they Acted their Parts &s;o well, that they carry'd the Cammel to the King, to whom the Raven being Spoke&s;man, Sir, &s;aid He, &s;eeing your Health is more Pretious to us then our lives, &s;uffer me to offer you up mine to appea&s;e your Raging Hunger. What a goodly Collation you offer to his Ma|je&s;ty! Cry'd the Fox. You that have only a little Skin and three or four dry Bones, are a precious Bit to &s;atisfy the King, who I warrant you could feed at this time like a Fidler in a Farmer's Henroo&s;t; I have better Fle&s;h and more &s;ub&s;tantial then yours. Then the Wolf, Sir, &s;aid He, your Ma|je&s;ty mu&s;t have more Solid Dyet to refre&s;h your Hungry Stomack, and therefore I think my &s;elf a Banquet much more pro|per to regale your Highne&s;s. The Cam|mel, unwilling to appear le&s;s Affectionate then the Re&s;t, when it came to his turn, all you three, &s;aid He, are not enough to &s;atisfy the King's Hunger; but tho' he had not eaten a Mouthful the&s;e three Days, I alone am &s;ufficient to re&s;tore him to his Health. Then &s;aid all the Re&s;t, this Cammel &s;peaks rea&s;on, his Fle&s;h is Excellent, and dainty, worth your Maje&s;ties Ta&s;t. How happy will he be, to leave to Po&s;terity &s;uch an Example of Zeal and Genero&s;ity! And &s;o &s;aying they all fell up him, and tore him to pie|ces, before he could &s;peak a Word for him|&s;elf.</P>
<PB N="93" REF="54">
<P>This Fable &s;hews that when &s;everal wicked Con&s;pirators combine together in the Con|trivance of any Enterprize, they ea&s;ily bring it to pa&s;s. For my part &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> were I in your Condition, I would defend my life, as I advi&s;e you to do: For he that dyes with his Sword in his hand, renders him&s;elf famous. 'Tis not good to begin a War; but when we are attackt, 'tis Ignominious to Surrender our &s;elves Cowardly into the Enemies hand. But we ought to know our Strength, reply'd <HI>Cho|torbe,</HI> before we Engage in Combat; for if we attack our Enemy imprudently it re&s;em|bles the Angel Ruler of the Sea, concerning whom I will tell you the Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="94" REF="55">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Angel Ruler of the Sea, and two Birds, call'd <HI>Titavi.</HI></HEAD>
<P>TWo Birds, call'd <HI>Titavi,</HI> liv'd upon the Shore of the <HI>Indian</HI> Sea. When it was Hatching Sea&s;on, &s;aid the Female to the Male, 'tis time for me to chu&s;e a proper place where|in to Hatch my young ones. To whom the Male, this is a very good Place, &s;aid He. No, reply'd the Female, for the Sea may &s;well, and the Waves may carry away my Eggs. That can never be, &s;aid the Male, nor dares the Angel Ruler of the Sea do me an Injury; for if he &s;hould, I would certainly call him to an Account. You mu&s;t never boa&s;t, reply'd the Female, of a thing which you are not a|ble to perform. What compari&s;on is there betweeen You and the Prince of the Sea? Re|member the Misfortune that befel the Tortoi&s;e. What Misfortune? Cry'd the Male.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="95" REF="55">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Tortoi&s;e and two Ducks.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a Tortoi&s;e, continu'd the Female, that liv'd in a Pond with &s;ome Ducks in full content. But at length there happen'd &s;o dry a Year that there was no Water in the Pond. Thereupon the Ducks finding them|&s;elves con&s;train'd to remove, went to the Tortoi&s;e to take their Leaves of him. But the Tortoi&s;e upbraided 'em for leaving him in the time of his Calamity, and be&s;ought 'em to carry him a long with 'em. To whom the Ducks, 'Tis a great Trouble to us, &s;aid they, that we mu&s;t leave you in this Condition, but we are con&s;train'd to it for our own Pre&s;ervation: And as to what you propo&s;e to us, to take you with us, we have a long Jour|ney to make, and you can never follow us, be|cau&s;e we can fly: Neverthele&s;s, if you will promi&s;e us, not to &s;peak a word by the way, we will carry you. But we &s;hall meet with People that will talk to us; and then you will be tatling, which will be the cau&s;e of your De&s;tructi|on. No, an&s;wer'd the Tortoi&s;e, I will do what ever you would have me. Then the Ducks order'd the Tortoi&s;e to take a little Stick, and hold it in the middle between his Teeth; and then exhorting him to keep &s;teady, two Ducks took the Stick by each end, and to rais'd him up. Now as they flew over a Village, the In|habitants wondring at the Novelty of the &s;ight, fell a Shouting with all their Might; <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> made &s;uch a horrid Noi&s;e, that <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> grew Impatient to be twatling. And <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span">
<PB N="96" REF="56">not able to keep &s;ilence any longer, he was go|ing to wi&s;h the People Eyes out for Gazing up|on 'em. But &s;o &s;oon as he open'd his Mouth, he fell to the Ground and Kill'd him&s;elf.</P>
<P>This Example &s;hews, that we ought not to de&s;pi&s;e the Exhortations of Friends. I have heard your Fable, &s;aid the Male, but know, that they who want Courage, are no way ca|pable of great performances. Let us Hatch our young ones in this Place, and let us be a&s;&s;ur'd, that the Angel Ruler of the Sea can do us no harm. The Female obey'd, and built her Ne&s;t by the Sea &s;ide: But within a Day or two after, the Ocean &s;welling, the Waves o|verturn'd the Ne&s;t, and the Prince of the Sea took the Eggs. Then the Female, addre&s;&s;ing her &s;elf to the Male, I told you, &s;aid &s;he, that you were too Vainglorious to out-brave a Power, which it became you rather to revere Now let us &s;ee how you will revenge your &s;elf for this Affront. I'll a&s;&s;ure you, reply'd the Male, that I will make him re&s;tore your Eggs. And &s;o &s;aying, without any more de|lay, he flew to all the Birds, one after another, told 'em the Story, and crav'd Aid to revenge him&s;elf upon the Prince of the Sea. All the Birds promis'd their &s;uccour to <HI>Titavi,</HI> and went with him al&s;o to the Griffon, and threat|en'd to acknowledge him no longer for their King, if he did not Head 'em. Thereupon, the Griffon flew before 'em, and they be&s;et the Prince of the Sea's Palace, who &s;eeing &s;uch an Infinite Number of Birds, in great Terrour and Affright, re&s;tor'd the Eggs.</P>
<P>An Enemy &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> is at no time to be de&s;pis'd. I will not then begin the Combat,
<PB N="97" REF="56">reply'd <HI>Chotorb&egrave;,</HI> interrupting him, but if the Lion attack me, I will defend my &s;elf. Well then, an&s;wer'd <HI>Damna,</HI> when you &s;ee him la&s;h the Ground with his Tail, and move his Eyes, you may be &s;ure he will immediately be upon your Skirts. I thank you for your Advice, reply'd <HI>Chotorb&egrave;,</HI> and when I ob&s;erve the &s;igns which you have &s;o like a Friend inform'd me of, I &s;hall prepare to receive him.</P>
<P><HI>Damna,</HI> overjoy'd at the &s;ucce&s;s of his En|terprize, went to <HI>Kalila,</HI> who ask'd him how his De&s;ign went forward. I thank my Fates, cry'd <HI>Damna,</HI> I am ju&s;t going to Triumph o|ver my Enemies. After this Confabulation, the two Foxes went to Court, where &s;oon after <HI>Chotorb&egrave;</HI> arriv'd.</P>
<P>The Lion no &s;ooner beheld him, but he thought him Guilty: And <HI>Chotorbe,</HI> ca&s;ting his Eyes upon the Lion, made no Que&s;tion but that his Maje&s;ty had re&s;olv'd his Ruin. So that both the one and the other manife&s;ting tho&s;e &s;igns which <HI>Damna</HI> had de&s;crib'd to each, there began a mo&s;t terrible Combat, wherein the Lion kill'd the Ox, but not without a great deal of Trouble and Hazard. Oh! What a a wicked Creature thou art! Cry'd <HI>Kalila</HI> to <HI>Damna,</HI> for thou ha&s;t here endanger'd the Kings Life. Thy end will be Mi&s;erable, for contriving &s;uch pernicious De&s;igns; and that which happen'd to a Cheat who was the Cully of his own Knaveries, will one Day befall thee.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="98" REF="57">
<HEAD>The Fable of two young Merchants, the one Crafty the other without Malice.</HEAD>
<P>TWo young Merchants left their Country, to Travel upon the Account of Trade: The one was call'd <HI>Sharpwit,</HI> the other <HI>Simple|ton.</HI> The&s;e two by Accident found a Bagg full of Mony. Said <HI>Sharpwit</HI> to his Compani|on, Travelling in truth is very Profitable, but very Painful: And therefore Brother, let us be contented with this Mony, without Fatiguing our &s;elves any more to get Wealth: To which <HI>Simpleton</HI> con&s;enting, they return'd both to their Lodging. However before they parted, <HI>Simpleton</HI> bethought him&s;elf of Dividing what they had found, to the end they might be both at their own Liberty. But, &s;aid <HI>Sharpwit,</HI> 'tis much better for us to put it into a &s;afe Place, and every Day to take out &s;omthing out of the Stock. <HI>Simpleton</HI> an&s;wer'd, that he very well approv'd of his Propo&s;al. After this they hid the Mony, taking each of 'em a &s;mall Sum for their particular Expences. The next Day, <HI>Sharpwit</HI> went where the Mony lay, and having taken it away, return'd home. On the other &s;ide, when <HI>Simpleton</HI> had expended all that he had, he ran to <HI>Sharpwit's</HI> Lodging, and meeting with him, Come, &s;aid He, let's go together and take out &s;uch another Sum as we took out before. Content; an&s;wer'd <HI>Sharpwit,</HI> for I have &s;pent all my Stock, and want Mony: So they went both together, but when they came to the Place where the Mony had been hid, the Birds were flown. Pre&s;ently <HI>Sharpwit</HI> threw
<PB N="99" REF="57">him&s;elf upon the Ground, tore his Hair, rent his Cloaths, and weeping to his Compa|nion, Why ha&s;t thou dealt &s;o unkindly with thy Friend, &s;aid He, for no body but thou could take away the Mony, &s;ince no bo|dy el&s;e knew where it was hid. 'Twas in vain for <HI>Simpleton</HI> to &s;wear he had not taken it away: The other &s;till feigning to be a&s;&s;ur'd of the Contrary. At length they went both before a Judge, before whom <HI>Sharpwit,</HI> af|ter he had related the whole Story how they found the Mony, and how they agreed to hide it, accus'd <HI>Simpleton</HI> for having &s;toln it. The Judge call'd pre&s;ently for Witne&s;&s;es to prove the Robbery; to which <HI>Sharpwit,</HI> I have no other Witne&s;&s;es, &s;aid He, but the Tree that grows next the Place; and I hope, God, who is &s;o ju&s;t, will &s;uffer the dumb Tree to give Te&s;timony of the truth. The Judge admiring to hear the Man talk at &s;uch a rate, re&s;olv'd to &s;ee the I&s;&s;ue of the Bu&s;ine&s;s, and accepting the Tree for a Witne&s;s, promis'd the next Day to take a Walk to the Tree and Examine it: And &s;o the two Merchants went home till next Day. In the mean time <HI>Sharpwit</HI> told his Father the Story, a&s;&s;uring him withal that he had no hope but in him, when he took the Tree for his Evidence. If you will but act your part, added he, we &s;hall have the Sum which I have taken, and as much more from the Party accus'd upon his Condemnation, which will &s;erve us very well, the remainder of our Days. His Father ask'd him what he was to do. Why Sir, reply'd the Son, you mu&s;t go into the Tree in the Evening,
<PB N="100" REF="58">and lye there all Night; to the end that when the Judge comes betimes in the Morn|ing, you may give Te&s;timony according to the Cu&s;tom. Oh Son, &s;aid the Father, leave off the&s;e little knacks of Knavery, for tho' thou may'&s;t deceive Men, thou can'&s;t never deceive God; and I'm afraid thy Fortune will have the &s;ame Succe&s;s with that of the Frog.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Frog, the Cray-fi&s;h, and the Serpent.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a Frog which had her Habitation hard by a Serpent, that every time &s;he brought forth young ones, eat 'em up; which put her almo&s;t be&s;ide her Wits. One Day go|ing to pay a Vi&s;it to a Cray-fi&s;h that was one of her Go&s;&s;ips, &s;he made her the confident of her Grievances. The Cray-fi&s;h put her in good Heart, a&s;&s;uring her that a way might be found out to rid her from &s;uch a pernicious Neighbour. You will highly oblige me, &s;aid the Frog, if you would be pleas'd but to teach me that Trick. Hark you then, Go&s;&s;ip, re|ply'd the Cray-fi&s;h, there is in &s;uch a Place one of my Comrades who is very Fat and Strong withal. Take you a &s;ufficient Number of little Menows, and lay 'em all in a Row from the Cray-fi&s;hes Hole, to the Serpents Lodging; for the Cray-fi&s;h that I tell you of will certainly Snap 'em up all, one after another, till he comes where the Serpent lyes; who will certainly come forth upon the noi&s;e, and then the Cray|fi&s;h
<PB N="101" REF="58">will devour him too. The Frog follow'd this advice, and accordingly ta&s;ted the &s;weet Plea&s;ure of revenge. But two days after, the Cray-fi&s;h that had eaten the Serpent, thinking to find more, went where the Frog lay in, and eat up her and all her young ones.</P>
<P>You &s;ee by this Fable, that deceivers are deceiv'd. Father, &s;aid the Son, leave off this idle di&s;cour&s;e: We have no time now for Moralizing. Thereupon the old Man, who was covetous enough, not able to di&s;&s;uade his Son, &s;ubmitted and went and hid him&s;elf in the Tree. The next Day, betimes in the Morning, the Judge made ha&s;t to the Tree, accompany'd by a great Number of Per&s;ons of Wit and Penetration, and a great Croud of others that de&s;ir'd to be Witne&s;&s;es of the Mi|racle. After &s;ome Ceremonies, the Judge ask'd the Tree, whether it were true that <HI>Simpleton</HI> had taken the Mony in di&s;pute. Pre&s;ently he heard a Voice that an&s;wer'd, <HI>Yes</HI>&mdash;<HI>He is</HI> Guilty <HI>of what he is Accus'd.</HI> Which &s;omwhat a&s;toni&s;h'd the Judge at fir&s;t: But afterwards &s;urmizing that there might be &s;ome body in the Tree, he order'd all the Boughs round about the Tree to be heap'd together and &s;et a Fire. Upon which the Poor old Man, after he had endur'd the heat as long as he could, cry'd out, Mercy, Mercy; and being then lifted out of the Tree, confe&s;s'd the Truth. By which piece of Di&s;cretion the Judge made manife&s;t the Innocence of <HI>Simpleton,</HI> and <HI>Sharpwits</HI> wickedne&s;s, for which he was puni&s;h'd, while all the Mony was taken from the Accu|&s;er and given to the Party accus'd.</P>
<PB N="100" REF="59">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB N="101" REF="59">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB N="102" REF="60">
<P>I have recited this Example, to &s;hew you, that there is nothing like Acting with Up|rightne&s;s and Sincerity. You are too blame, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> to call Wit by the Name of <HI>Kna|very,</HI> and the care of a Mans own Intere&s;ts, by the Appellation of <HI>Artifice.</HI> For my part, I am apt to think, that I have &s;hew'd nothing but Wit and Judgment <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">in my whole Conduct. Thou art a wicked Creature, cry'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> nor will I any longer li&s;ten to thee, nor live with thee, becau&s;e thou teache&s;t &s;uch wicked Maxims. They that frequent the Company of &s;uch as thou art, will come to the Gardner's end.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="103" REF="60">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Gardner and the Bear.</HEAD>
<P>THere was in former times a Gardner who lov'd his Gardning to that degree, that he ab&s;ented him&s;elf from the Company of Men, to the end he might wholly give him&s;elf up to the care of his Flowers and Plants. He had neither Wife nor Children; and from Morning till Night he did nothing but work in his Garden, &s;o that it lay like a Terre&s;trial Paradi&s;e. But at length the good Man grew weary of being alone, and took a Re&s;olution to leave his Gar|den in &s;earch of good Company.</P>
<P>As he was walking at the foot of a Moun|tain, he &s;py'd a Bear who&s;e looks put him into great affright. This Bear was al&s;o weary of being alone, and came down from the Mountain, for no other rea&s;on, but to &s;ee whether he could meet with any one that would joyn Society with him. So &s;oon therefore, as they &s;aw each o|ther, they began to have a Friend&s;hip one for another. The Gardner fir&s;t acco&s;ted the Bear, who made him a profound Reverence. After &s;ome Complements pa&s;t between 'em, the Gardner made the Bear a &s;ign to follow him, and carrying him into his Garden, regal'd him with a world of very delicious Fruit which he had carefully pre&s;erv'd, &s;o that at length they en|ter'd into a very &s;trict Friend&s;hip together. In &s;o much that when the Gardner was a weary of Working, and lay down to take a little Nap, the Bear out of Affection, &s;tay'd all the while by him, and kept off the Flies from his Face. One Day that the Gardner lay down to &s;leep at
<PB N="104" REF="61">the foot of a Tree, and that the Bear &s;tood by to drive away the Flies, it happen'd that one of tho&s;e Infects lit upon the Gardner's Mouth, and &s;till as the Bear drave it away from one &s;ide, it would light on the other; which put the Bear into &s;uch a Chafe, that he took up a great Stone to kill it. 'Tis true, he did kill the Flie, but at the &s;ame time he broke out two or three of the Gardner's Teeth. From whence Men of Judgment ob&s;erve, that it is better to have a Prudent Enemy, then an Ignorant Friend.</P>
<P>This Example &s;hews, that your Society is no le&s;s dangerous then the Company of the Bear. For my part, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> I am not &s;o Ignorant, but that I am able to di&s;tingui&s;h be|tween what is Baneful, and what is Benefitial to my Friend. I know very well, reply'd <HI>Kalila,</HI> that your Tran&s;gre&s;&s;ions are not the failings of Ignorance: For when you betray your Friends, 'tis not without long Premeditation; Witne&s;s the Contrivances you made u&s;e of to &s;et the Lion and the Ox together by the Ears. But I cannot endure to hear you pretend to Innocence. You are like the Merchant that would make his Friend believe that Rats eat Iron.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="105" REF="61">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Merchant and his Friend.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Merchant, &s;aid <HI>Kalila,</HI> pur&s;uing her Di&s;cour&s;e, had a great de&s;ire to make a long Journey. Now in regard he was not ve|ry wealthy, 'tis requi&s;ite, &s;aid He to him&s;elf, that before my departure I &s;hould leave &s;ome part of my E&s;tate in the City, to the end that if I meet with ill luck in my Travels, I may have wherewithal to keep me at my Return. To this purpo&s;e he deliver'd a great Number of Bars of Iron in tru&s;t to one of his Friends, de&s;iring him to keep 'em during his Ab&s;ence; and then taking his Leave, away he went. Some time after he return'd home; and the fir&s;t thing he did was to go to his Friend, and demand his Iron. But his Friend who ow'd &s;everal Sums of Mony, having &s;old the Iron to pay his Debts, made him this an&s;wer, Truly Friend, &s;aid He, I put your Iron into a Room that was clo&s;e lock'd, imagining it would have been there as &s;ecure as my own Gold; but there was a Rat in the Room that eat it up. The Mer|chant, pretending Ignorance, 'tis very true, &s;aid He, Rats love Iron extreamly. This an&s;wer pleas'd his Friend; who was glad to hear the Merchant &s;o well enclin'd to believe that the Rats had eaten his Iron; and to remove all his &s;u&s;picions, he de&s;ir'd him to Dine with him the next Day. In the mean time the Merchant met in the Middle of the City one of his Friend's Children, which he carry'd home, and lock'd up in a Room. The next Day he went to his Friend, who &s;eem'd to be in great
<PB N="106" REF="62">Affliction, which he ask'd him the cau&s;e of; tho' he were not ignorant of it. Oh my dear Friend, an&s;wer'd the other, I beg you to excu&s;e me, if you do not &s;ee me &s;o chearful as otherwi&s;e I would be: I have lo&s;t one of my Children; I have had him cry'd by &s;ound of Trum|pet, and I now not what is become of him. Oh, &s;aid the Merchant, Ye&s;terday in the Evening, as I parted from hence, I &s;aw an Owl in the Air with a Child in his Claws; but whether it were yours I cannot tell. Good|man Thick&s;cul, cry'd his Friend, are you not a&s;ham'd to tell &s;uch an egregious Lye? An Owl that weighs, at mo&s;t, not above two or three Pound, can he carry a Boy that weighs a|bove Fifty? Why, reply'd the Merchant, d'you make &s;uch a wonder at that? As if in a Coun|try where one Rat can eat a hundred Pound weight of Iron, it were &s;uch a wonder for an Owl to carry a Child that weighs not above fifty Pound in all. The Friend then found that the Merchant was no &s;uch fool as he took him to be: He begg'd his Pardon for the Cheat which he de&s;ign'd to have put upon him, re&s;tor'd him his Iron, and had his Son again.</P>
<P>This Fable proves, that if you could be &s;o unju&s;t as to deceive the Lion, to whom you were &s;o much beholding, you will with much more Confidence put your Tricks upon tho&s;e to whom you are le&s;s oblig'd. This is the rea|&s;on why your Company is dangerous.</P>
<P>While <HI>Damna</HI> and <HI>Kalila</HI> were thus Confa|bulating together, the Lion, who&s;e pa&s;&s;ion was over, made great lamentations for <HI>Chotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">,</HI> &s;aying, that he began to be &s;en&s;ible of his Lo&s;s, becau&s;e of his extraordinary Endow|ments.
<PB N="107" REF="62">I know not, added He, whether I did ill or well, nor whether what was report-of him were true or fal&s;e. Thus mu&s;ing for a while in a &s;tudious Melancholy, at length he repented his having puni&s;h'd a Subject, who might for ought he knew be innocent. <HI>Damna</HI> ob&s;erving that the Lion was &s;eiz'd with re|mor&s;e of Con&s;cience, left <HI>Kalila,</HI> and acco&s;t-the King with a mo&s;t re&s;pectful Humility, Sir, &s;aid He, what makes your Maje&s;ty &s;o Pen&s;ive? Con&s;ider, that here your Enemy lies at your Feet, and fix your Eyes upon &s;uch an Object with delight. When I think upon <HI>Chotorbe</HI>'s virtues, &s;aid the Lion, I cannot but bemoan his Lo&s;s. He was my Support and my Com|fort, and it was by his Prudent Coun&s;el that my People liv'd in repo&s;e. It becomes not your Maje&s;ty, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> to bewail the Death of an unfaithful Subject. 'Tis true, he was profitable to the Public; but in regard he had a de&s;ign upon your Per&s;on, you have done no more then what the wi&s;e&s;t of Men advi&s;e, which is to cut off a Member that would prove the De&s;truction of the whole Body. The&s;e Admonitions gave the Lion a little com|fort. However <HI>Chotorbe</HI>'s Innocence crying continually for Vengeance, was the rea&s;on that <HI>Damna</HI>'s Artifices were di&s;cover'd, and that he receiv'd the Puni&s;hment which he de&s;erv'd. For in regard that all his Enterpri&s;es were Capital, his End was al&s;o Mi&s;erable. He that will reap Wheat, mu&s;t never &s;ow Barly. He that only does good Actions, and thinks ju&s;t Thoughts, will be happy in this World, and can or fail of being the &s;ame in the other.</P>
</DIV3>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="108" REF="63">
<HEAD>CHAP. II. <HI>That the Wicked come to an ill End.</HI></HEAD>
<P>I Have with Attention heard, &s;aid <HI>Dab&s;chelim,</HI> the Hi&s;tory of a Sycophant, who by his Flatteries deceiv'd his Prince, and was the cau&s;e that he wrong'd his Mini&s;ters: Tell me therefore now, how the Lion came to di&s;cover <HI>Damna</HI>'s Infidelities, and what was the end of this Fox.</P>
<P>Kings, an&s;wer'd the old <HI>Bramin,</HI> are by no means to give credit to the various reports that are whi&s;per'd in their Ears, till they under|&s;tand whether the Stories, which they hear, pro|ceed from the lips of Friends or Enemies. O|therwi&s;e what happen'd at the Lions Court will befal them al&s;o: Now this is the Account which I &s;hall give your Maje&s;ty of tho&s;e things which you de&s;ire to know. Some time after the Lion had kill'd the Ox, he was very much troubl'd in his mind, as I have already &s;aid; for the Reflections that he continually made upon the good &s;ervices which the Ox had done him, plung<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d him into &s;o deep a Melancholy, that he abandon'd the care of his Dominions, and his Court became a Wilderne&s;s. He talk'd, with|out intermi&s;&s;ion, of <HI>Chotorbe's</HI> rare Endowments: And the good Character which others gave him was the only con&s;olation with his grief would admit. One Night that he was wrapt up in Di&s;cour&s;e with the Leopard concerning the Virtues of the Ox, Your Maje&s;ty, &s;aid the Leopard, too heavily afflicts your &s;elf for a
<PB N="109" REF="63">thing which it is impo&s;&s;ible to remedy: And he that turmoils him&s;elf to &s;eek what he can|not find, not only never finds what he &s;eeks, but lo&s;es what he has; as the Fox lo&s;t a Hide, to get a Hen which he long'd for.</P>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Fox, the Wolf, and the H<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">n.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Fox that was ranging about in &s;earch of Food, found a large Piece of a raw Hide, which &s;ome wild Bea&s;t or other had let fall; he eat one part of it, and took the re&s;t, with a de&s;ign to carry it to his hole: But in his way near a Village he &s;py'd &s;everal Hens that were Plump and Fat, which a Boy had always in his Eye. The&s;e dainties &s;et the Foxes Teeth a watering to that degree, that he left his raw Hide, which he was &s;ure of, to get one of the&s;e delicate Mor&s;els. At the &s;ame In&s;tant came a Wolf up to him, and ask'd him what he gaz'd after with &s;o much earne&s;tne&s;s. Tho&s;e Hens that you &s;ee yonder, an&s;wer'd the Fox; I would fain have one of 'em for my &s;econd Cour&s;e. You lo&s;e your time, reply'd the Wolf, they are guarded by &s;o vigilant a Ser|vant that 'tis impo&s;&s;ible to get near 'em, with|out running a manife&s;t Hazard. Content your &s;elf with your piece of raw Hide, for fear you meet with the &s;ame hard Fortune that befel the A&s;s, who looking after his Tail, lo&s;t his Ears.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="110" REF="64">
<HEAD>The Fable of the A&s;s and the Gard'ner.</HEAD>
<P>AN A&s;s had lo&s;t his Tail, which was a griev|ous Affliction to him; and as he was eve|ry where &s;eeking after it, he pa&s;s'd through a Meadow and a Garden. But the Gard'ner &s;eeing him, and believing he came to dig up his Garden, fell into a violent rage, ran to the A&s;s, and never &s;tanding upon the Ceremo|ny of a Pillory, cut off both his Ears. Thus the A&s;s who bemoan'd the lo&s;s of his Tail, was in a far greater A&s;toni&s;hment when he &s;aw him&s;elf without Ears. Whoever he be, that takes not rea&s;on for his Guide, wanders about, and falls into Precipices.</P>
<P>The Fox, &s;till importun'd by his Extraordi|nary longing after a Tite-bit, what come you hither for, &s;aid he to the Wolf, to trouble me with your Moral Fables? I will let you &s;ee, that he who has Courage, dares do any thing: And &s;o &s;aying, he advanc'd boldly toward the Hens, leaving his piece of raw Hide; and the Wolf finding that his Admonitions would do no good, went about his bu&s;ine&s;s. In the mean time the Fox crept &s;oftly toward his feather'd Prey; but the Boy perceiving his Thievi&s;h and Bloody intention, threw a thumping Stone &s;o luckily at him, that he hit him on the Foot. The poor Fox afraid lea&s;t the Boy &s;hould reach his Pate next time, return'd with much more ha&s;te then he came, re&s;olv'd to be contented with his piece of raw Hide. But, alas! that was gone too; for a Raven had carry'd it a|way; and then the Fox could have torn his own Fle&s;h for Madne&s;s</P>
<PB N="111" REF="64">
<P>You &s;ee, Sir, pur&s;u'd the Leopard, that your Maje&s;ty ought never to de&s;pair, nor a|bandon the Government of your Dominions for the lo&s;s of one Subject. The Lion for a while &s;tood mute, but then recovering his Speech, You &s;ay very true, &s;aid He, but I would revenge <HI>Chotorbe's</HI> Death, if I could find that he had been unju&s;tly accus'd. De&s;pond|ing, Sir, is not the way to attain your End, reply'd the Leopard: You mu&s;t carefully ex|amin, whether the complaints that were brought you of his Mi&s;carriages were true or no. If he were Guilty he has been de&s;ervedly Puni&s;h'd; if not the Accu&s;er is to feel your &s;everity. Then &s;aid the Lion to the Leopard, I appoint thee my Con&s;table in his place; do thou all thou can&s;t to find out the Truth.</P>
<P>Now in regard it was late, the Leopard took his leave of the Lion: But in his way to his Lodging, pa&s;&s;ing by <HI>Kalila's</HI> and <HI>Damna's</HI> A|partiment, he thought he heard 'em di&s;cour&s;|ing together. Now in regard he &s;u&s;pected <HI>Damna</HI> to be no le&s;s wicked then indeed he was, his Curio&s;ity led him to go near and li&s;ten. <HI>Kalila</HI> upbraided her Husband with his Perfi|diou&s;ne&s;s, his Di&s;&s;imulation, and all the Artifi|ces he had made u&s;e of to ruin <HI>Chotorbe.</HI> The Leopard, fully inform'd by her reproaches of <HI>Damna's</HI> Trea&s;ons, went to the Lion's Mother, to whom he related what he had heard. She pre&s;ently ha&s;ting to her Son, you have good rea&s;on &s;aid &s;he, to be afflicted for the lo&s;s of <HI>Cho|torbe;</HI> for he dy'd Innocent. What proof have you of his Innocence? demanded the Lion. Pardon me, an&s;wer'd the Mother, if I am not &s;o ha&s;ty to reveal a Secret which may inflame
<PB N="112" REF="65">your anger, and prejudice the Per&s;on that has entru&s;ted me. But I be&s;eech you, li&s;ten to this Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Prince and his Squire.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a Prince who was very Potent, Rich, and Ju&s;t. One Day as he rode a Hunting, &s;aid He to his Squire, I will run my Hor&s;e again&s;t thine, that we may &s;ee which is the Swifte&s;t: I have a long time had a &s;trange de&s;ire to make this Tryal. The Squire, in o|bedience to his Ma&s;ter, &s;et Spurs to his Hor&s;e and rode full &s;peed, and the King follow'd him. But when they were got a great di&s;tance from the Grandees and Nobles that accompany'd 'em, the King &s;topping his Hor&s;e, &s;aid He to his Squire, I had no other de&s;ign in this, but to bring thee to a Place where we might be a|lone; for I have a &s;ecret to impart to thee, having found thee more faithful then any other of my Servants. I have a jealou&s;ie that the Prince my Brother is framing &s;ome contri|vance again&s;t my Per&s;on, and for that rea&s;on, I have made choice of thee to prevent him, but be di&s;creet. The Squire &s;wore he would be as true to him as his Skin, and &s;o they &s;tay'd till the Company overtook 'em, who were in great trouble for the King's Per&s;on. But the Squire, upon the fir&s;t Opportunity he had to &s;peak with the King's Brother, di&s;clos'd to him the de&s;ign that was Brewing to take away his Life: Which oblig'd the young Prince to thank him for his Information, and to promi&s;e him great Rewards.</P>
<PB N="113" REF="65">
<P>Some few Days after the King dy'd, and his Brother &s;ucceded him: But then the fir&s;t thing he did after he was advanc'd to the Throne, was to put the Squire to Death. The poor Wretch upbraided him with the Service he had done him: Is this the reward, &s;aid He, which you promis'd me? Yes, an&s;wer'd the new King, whoever reveals the Secrets of his Prince, de&s;erves no le&s;s then Death: And &s;ince thou ha&s;t committed &s;o foul a Crime thou de|&s;erv'&s;t to Dye. Thou that betrayd'&s;t a King who put his Confidence in thee, and who lov'd thee above all his Court, how is it po&s;&s;ible for me to tru&s;t thee in my Service? 'Twas in vain for the Squire to alledge any Rea&s;ons in his own Ju&s;tification, they would not be heard, nor could he e&s;cape the &s;troke of the Executi|oner, becau&s;e he could not keep a Secret.</P>
<P>You &s;ee by this Fable, Son, that Secrets are not to be Di&s;clos'd. But my dear Mother, an&s;wer'd the King, he that entru&s;ted you with this Secret, de&s;ires it &s;hould be made known; &s;eeing he is the fir&s;t that makes the Di&s;covery: For if he could not keep it him&s;elf, how could he de&s;ire another to be &s;o re&s;erv'd? If what you would &s;ay be true, and that you de&s;ire I &s;hould have a full knowledge of it, I de&s;ire you to put me out of my pain. The Mother &s;eeing her &s;elf &s;o hardly pre&s;t; Then, &s;aid She, I inform you of a Criminal unworthy of Par|don: For tho' it be the &s;aying of wi&s;e Men, that a King ought to be Merciful, yet there are certain Crimes that never ought to be for|giv'n 'Tis <HI>Damna</HI> I mean, pur&s;u'd the Matron Lione&s;s, who by his fal&s;e In&s;inuations wrought <HI>Chotorbe's</HI> Fall: And having &s;o &s;aid,
<PB N="114" REF="66">&s;he retir'd, leaving the Lion in a deep Amu&s;e|ment. At length he &s;ummon'd an A&s;&s;embly of the whole Court, at which <HI>Damna</HI> taking Umbrage, comes to one of the King's Favou|rites, and asks him if he knew the Rea&s;on of call|ing &s;uch an A&s;&s;embly? which the Lion's Mo|ther over hearing, Yes, &s;aid &s;he, 'tis to pro|nounce thy Death: for thy Artifices and jug|ling Politicks are di&s;cover'd. Madam, an|&s;wer'd <HI>Damna,</HI> they who render them&s;elves worthy of E&s;teem and Honour at Court by their Virtues, never fail of Enemies. Oh! that Men, added he, would act no otherwi&s;e then God! For he gives to every one according to his De&s;ert; but Men on the other &s;ide fre|quently puni&s;h tho&s;e who are worthy of Re|ward, and as often cheri&s;h tho&s;e that de&s;erve their Indignation. How much was I too blame to quit my Solitude, meerly to con&s;ecrate my life to the King's Service. Whoever, di&s;&s;ati&s;|fy'd with what he has, prefers the &s;ervice of Men, before his Duty to God, &s;hall early or late repent in vain; as may be &s;een by the en|&s;uing Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="115" REF="66">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Hermite who quitted the De&s;art to live at Court.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Hermite, who had renounc'd the Plea&s;ures of the World, led a very au&s;tere life in a Wilderne&s;s. His Virtue in a &s;mall time made &s;uch a Noi&s;e in the World, that an infinite Number flockt every Day to vi&s;it him; &s;ome out of Curio&s;ity, others to con&s;ult him upon &s;everal Matters. The King of the Country, who was very devout, and who lov'd Men of worth, no &s;ooner under&s;tood that there was in his Kingdom a Per&s;on of &s;o much Virtue, but he rode to &s;ee him. He made him a Noble Pre&s;ent, and de&s;ir'd that he might hear &s;ome of his Profitable Exhortations. The Hermite, to &s;atisfie the King, Sir, &s;aid he, God has two Habitations, the one Peri&s;h|able, which is the World; the other Eternal, which is Paradi&s;e. 'Tis not for your Maje&s;ty therefore, as Generous as you are, to dote up|on the Felicities of the Earth, you ought to a&s;pire to tho&s;e Eternal Trea&s;ures, the meane&s;t part of which is of a Nobler Value then all the Principalities of the World: Try then, Sir, to attain the Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of tho&s;e Eternal Ble&s;&s;ings. By what A&s;&s;iduities may they be acquir'd? demanded the King. By relieving the Poor, an&s;wer'd the Hermite, and &s;uccour|ing the Di&s;tre&s;&s;ed. All Princes that de&s;ire to enjoy Eternal Repo&s;e, mu&s;t labour to give Temporal Tranquility to their Subjects.</P>
<P>The King was &s;o taken with this Di&s;cour&s;e, that he re&s;olv'd to &s;pend &s;ome Hours with this
<PB N="116" REF="67">good Hermite every Day. Among the re&s;t, one Day that the King and the Hermite were toge|ther in the Hermitage, they &s;aw a confu&s;ed Multitude of People thronging toward 'em, and rending the Air with the loud Crys of <HI>Ju&s;tice, Ju&s;tice.</HI> The Hermite bid 'em draw near, Ex|amin'd 'em, and having under&s;tood their Diffe|rences, made a quick Accommodation between 'em, without any trouble. The King, upon this, admiring the Hermites Prudence and Di&s;|patch, de&s;ir'd him to be pre&s;ent &s;omtimes in his Councils, which the Hermite promis'd the King, believing he might be Beneficial to the Poor. In &s;hort, he was frequently in tho&s;e A&s;&s;emblies, and the King pronounc'd his De|crees according to his Judgment; in &s;o much that at length he became &s;o nece&s;&s;ary, that no|thing was done in the Kingdom without his Advice.</P>
<P>The Hermite thus finding that Men made their Addre&s;&s;es to him, began to have a good Opinion of him&s;elf, and took upon him the Rank and Quality of Chief Mini&s;ter. To which end he provided him&s;elf with a Rich Livery and a Numerous Train. He forgot his Au&s;terities, his Penances, and his Prayers, and looking upon him&s;elf as one that could not be mi&s;s'd in the Government, he took great care of his own Per&s;on. He lay &s;oft, and fed up|on the mo&s;t Exqui&s;ite Dainties. The King al&s;o, who was otherwi&s;e very well &s;atisfy'd with the Hermite, let him do as he pleas'd, and di&s;|charg'd upon his Shoulders the whole Burthen of the Kingdom's Cares.</P>
<P>One Day, another Hermite, a Friend to him that liv'd at Court, coming to vi&s;it his Brother,
<PB N="117" REF="67">with whom he had frequently &s;pent whole Nights in Prayer, whole Days in Fa&s;ting and Penitence, was a&s;toni&s;h'd to &s;ee him environ'd with a great Number of Servants. Neverthe|le&s;s re&s;erving his Patience, till Night had lockt up all the Court in dark Retirement; when all was hu&s;ht, acco&s;ting the Courtier-Hermite, Oh, my dear Friend, &s;aid he, in what a Con|dition do I find you? What &s;trange Alteration is this? The Court-Hermite would fain have Excus'd him&s;elf, by &s;aying that he was con|&s;train'd to keep &s;o great a Train. But his Brother, who was a Per&s;on of Wit and Judg|ment, the&s;e Excu&s;es &s;aid he, are the Dictates of Sen&s;uality. I &s;ee that Wealth and Preferments have enchanted your Devotion. What De|mon has put you out of conceit with our Praying Life? and why, forgeting the Du|ties of a retir'd Life, do you prefer noi&s;e before &s;ilence, and tumult before Ea&s;e? Think not, an&s;wer'd the Court-Hermite, that the Bu&s;ine&s;s of the Court is any hindrance to me from continuing my Pious Exerci&s;es. You deceive your &s;elf, reply'd the Hermite, to think that your Prayers can be heard while you &s;erve the World, as they were when Holy and Hea|venly Duties took up all your time. Take my advice, and break the&s;e Chains of Gold that bind you to the Court; and return to your De&s;art, otherwi&s;e you will meet with the Cruel De&s;tiny of the blind Man, who de|&s;pis'd the Coun&s;el of his Friend.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="118" REF="68">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Blind Man, who Travelled with one of his Friends.</HEAD>
<P>THere were two Men that Travell'd toge|ther; one of which which was &s;tark Blind. The&s;e two Companions being &s;urpriz'd by Night upon the Road enter'd into a Meadow, there to re&s;t them&s;elves till break of Day. So &s;oon as Day appear'd, they ro&s;e, got a Hor&s;e|back, and continu'd their Journey. Now the blind Man in&s;tead of his Whip, had pick'd up a Ser|pent that was &s;tiff with Cold: but having it in his hand he felt it &s;omwhat &s;ofter then his Whip, which pleas'd him very much, becau&s;e he thought he had gain'd by the Change, and therefore he never minded the lo&s;s of his real Whip. But when the Sun began to appear and illuminate the World, his Companion perceiv'd the Serpent, and with loud Cries, Friend, &s;aid he, You have taken up a Serpent, in&s;tead of your Whip, throw it out of your hand, before you feel the Mortal Care&s;&s;es of the Venomous Ani|mal. But the blind Man, no le&s;s blind in his Intellects then his Body, believing that his Friend had only je&s;ted with him to get away his Whip, What! &s;aid he, d'you envy my good Luck? I lo&s;t my Whip that was worth nothing, and here my kind Fortune has &s;ent me a new one. Pray don't take me for &s;uch a Changeling, but that I can di&s;tingui&s;h a Ser|pent from a Whip. With that, his Friend not able to forbear Laughing, Companion, &s;aid he, I am oblig'd by the Laws of Friend|&s;hip and Humanity to inform you of your Dan|ger:
<PB N="119" REF="68">And therefore if you love your Life, throw away the Serpent. To which, the blind Man, more exa&s;perated then per&s;uaded, why d'you pre&s;s me thus to throw away a thing which you intend to pick up your &s;elf? His Companion, to underceive him, &s;wore he had no &s;uch de|&s;ign, and prote&s;ted to him that what he held in his hand was a Serpent. But neither Oaths nor Prote&s;tations would &s;erve, the blind Man would not alter his Re&s;olution. In the mean time the Sun began to grow high, and his Beams having warm'd the Serpent by degrees, he begun to wind him&s;elf about the blind Man's Arm, which he bit in &s;uch a Venomous manner, that he gave him his Deaths wound.</P>
<P>This Example teaches us, that we ought to di&s;tru&s;t our Sen&s;es and that it is a difficult task to Ma&s;ter 'em, when we are in po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of the thing that flatters our fancy.</P>
<P>This judicious Admonition awak'd the Court-Hermite from his plea&s;ing Dream: He open'd his Eyes, and &s;urvey'd the Hazards that he ran at Court; and bewailing the time which he had vainly &s;pent in the &s;ervice of the World, he pa&s;t the Night in Sighs and Tears. But the Day being come, the new Honours that were done him, de&s;troy'd all his Repentance: He began to thru&s;t him&s;elf into all manner of Bu|&s;ine&s;s, and became unju&s;t, like the People of the World. One Day he Condemn'd to Death a Per&s;on who according to the Laws and Cu&s;toms of the Country, ought not to have &s;uffer'd Capital Puni&s;hment: After the Exe|cution of the Sentence, his Con&s;cience teaz'd him with Reproaches that troubl'd his Repo&s;e for &s;ome time, and at length the Heirs of the
<PB N="120" REF="69">Per&s;on whom he had unju&s;tly Condemn'd, ob|tain'd leave of the King to inform again&s;t the Hermite, whom they accus'd of Inju&s;tice and Oppre&s;&s;ion. And the Council, after mature debate upon the Informations, order'd that the Hermit &s;hould &s;uffer the &s;ame puni&s;hment which he had inflicted upon the Per&s;on de|ceas'd. The Hermite made u&s;e of all his Cre|dit and his Riches to &s;ave his Life. But the Decree of the Council was Executed.</P>
<P>I mu&s;t confe&s;s, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> that according to this Example, I ought to have been puni&s;h'd for having quitted my Solitude to &s;erve the King.</P>
<P><HI>Damna</HI> here giving over &s;peaking, his Elo|quence was admir'd by all the Court. As for the Lion, he held down his Head, turmoil'd with &s;o many various Thoughts, that he knew not what to re&s;olve, nor what an&s;wer to give <HI>Damna.</HI> But while the Lion was in this Di|lemma, and that all the Courtiers kept &s;ilence, a certain Creature call'd <HI>Siagou&s;ch,</HI> who was one of the mo&s;t faithful Servants the King had, &s;tept forward, and &s;poke to this Effect.</P>
<P>All the Reproaches which thou throw'&s;t upon tho&s;e that &s;erve the King, turn only to thy &s;hame. For be&s;ide, that it does no way be|long to thee to propound this Que&s;tion, know, that an Hour of Service done the King, is worth a hundred Years of Prayers. How many Per&s;ons of Merit have we &s;een, that have quit their little Cells to go to Court, where &s;erving Princes, they have eas'd the People, and &s;ecur'd 'em from Tyrannical Oppre&s;&s;ions? The Fable which I am going to tell you, may &s;erve for a full proof of what I &s;ay.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="121" REF="69">
<HEAD>The Fable of a religious Doctor and a Derwiche.</HEAD>
<P>THere liv'd in a City of <HI>Per&s;ia,</HI> an ancient religious Doctor, who had the Reputati|on throughout the Kingdom, of being a very learned and vertuous Man. He was call'd <HI>Rouchan Zamir,</HI> that is to &s;ay, <HI>Clear Con&s;cience.</HI> One day a Derwiche pu&s;h'd on by the Mo|tions of an extraordinary Devotion, parted from <HI>Mauralnachos,</HI> which is the Name of a Province of <HI>Tartary,</HI> to vi&s;it this religious Do|ctor above mention'd, and to con&s;ult him upon &s;ome difficult Que&s;tions. After much pains and time he arriv'd at the Mona&s;tery, but the Doctor was not within, only his Companion was there, who ob&s;erving that the Derwiche was weary and tyr'd, de&s;ir'd him to re&s;t him|&s;elf; adding withall the&s;e words, This is the Hour that my Companion u&s;ually returns from Court, whither he goes every Day. But when the Derwiche heard that the religious Doctor, <HI>Clear Con&s;cience,</HI> intermedl'd with State Af|fairs, Oh! cry'd he, how &s;orry I am to have come &s;o far and lo&s;e my time, for there is no|thing to be got from a Man that frequents the Court. After this Di&s;cour&s;e, he departed from the Convent, conceiving an ill Opinion of the religious Doctor. Now the Captain of the Watch was &s;earching about that Day for a no|torious Robber, who had made his E&s;cape the Night before; and the King had threaten'd to put him to Death if he did not find him again. The Captain meeting the Derwiche, &s;eiz'd him
<PB N="122" REF="70">in&s;tead of the hainous Offender whom he &s;ought for, and without examining him, car|ri'd him immediately to Execution. 'Twas in vain for the Derwiche to &s;wear him&s;elf an hone&s;t Man, his Tale would not be heard; and already the Hang-man had his Knife rea|dy to chop off his Hand, when the religious Doctor returning from Court &s;aw the Der|wiche in the Hands of the Executioner. Pre|&s;ently the Doctor order'd him to be unty'd, affirming him to be one of his Brethren, and that it was impo&s;&s;ible he &s;hould have commit|ted the Crime for which he was accus'd. Im|mediately the Executioner came to ki&s;s the Doctor's Hand, and unbound the Derwiche, who accompany'd the Doctor to his Convent. By the way, &s;aid the Doctor to the Derwiche, be not &s;urpriz'd, that I &s;pend the greate&s;t part of my time at Court: I live not after this man|ner but only to deliver from Death the Inno|cent, &s;uch as you are. Then the Derwiche ac|knowledging that he had made a ra&s;h Judgment, told the Doctor, that from that time forward, he would never blame tho&s;e that went to Court for the Glory of God.</P>
<P>By this Example, added <HI>Siagou&s;ch,</HI> we &s;ee that the greate&s;t ob&s;ervers of the Law are not always bani&s;ht from the Court. And thou, &s;aid he to <HI>Damna,</HI> com'&s;t here to make ridiculous Compa|ri&s;ons. Tis very true, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> that &s;ome|times mo&s;t vertuous Men do live at Court; but 'tis after they have implor'd the &s;uccour of Hea|ven; becau&s;e they know full well, that unle&s;s Heaven particularly protect 'em, they mu&s;t of nece&s;&s;ity ruin them&s;elves. Be&s;ides they never come to Court, till they have ab&s;olutely laid
<PB N="123" REF="70">a&s;ide all private Intere&s;t, which is the mo&s;t dangerous Rock that they can &s;plit again&s;t. I mu&s;t confe&s;s, that with a Mind &s;o free from Intere&s;t, a Man may imbrace all &s;orts of Con|ditions. But we that are not endow'd with &s;uch a &s;ublime Vertue, how &s;hall we exerci&s;e an Employment &s;o dangerous, unle&s;s we &s;erve ju&s;t and penetrating Princes, who, being able to di&s;tingui&s;h faithful from wicked Servants, reward and puni&s;h 'em according to the Rules of Ju&s;tice.</P>
<P>Then the Mother of the Lyon taking her turn, You &s;peak again&s;t your &s;elf, &s;aid &s;he to <HI>Damna,</HI> &s;ince this A&s;&s;embly &s;its not here but on|ly to upbraid ye for your Perfidie, and for de&s;troying one of the King's mo&s;t faithful Sub|jects. Madam, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> his Maje&s;ty is not ignorant, no more then this A&s;&s;embly, that there never was any Quarrel or Di&s;pute between the Ox and me. On the other &s;ide, all the World knows, that he was beholding to me for the Preferment and Dignities to which the King's Favour had advanc'd him. 'Tis true, that I inform'd his Maje&s;ty of an Attempt that was forming again&s;t his Per|&s;on; however, I &s;aid nothing but what I heard with my Ears and &s;aw with my own Eyes. I acted without Pa&s;&s;ion or Intere&s;t: For what Advantage could I reap by <HI>Chotorbe</HI>'s Death? The Favours which I have receiv'd from the King my Ma&s;ter, and the Duty I owe him, would they permit me to conceal from him &s;uch a piece of Trea&s;on? And as for tho&s;e that now accu&s;e me, they are only &s;uch as fear me; and they &s;eek my Life, to the end I &s;hould not di&s;cover their Enterpri&s;es.</P>
<PB N="124" REF="71">
<P>The&s;e Words <HI>Damna</HI> pronounc'd with &s;uch a con&s;tancy and pre&s;ence of Mind, that the Lyon, not knowing what to re&s;olve, We mu&s;t refer this Cau&s;e, &s;aid he, to a &s;elect number of Judges; becau&s;e it is my Plea|&s;ure that this Cau&s;e be well examin'd. Mo&s;t ju&s;tly ordain'd, cry'd <HI>Damna,</HI> for that they who judge with Precipitation, judge ami&s;s. Nothing is to be decided without having a perfect knowledge of the Cau&s;e, for fear of being deluded as the Woman was, who&s;e Ad|venture I am going to tell your Lord&s;hips.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Female Coquette and the Painter.</HEAD>
<P>A Merchant of the City of <HI>Cachemir</HI> had a ve|ry beautiful Wife, who lov'd and was be|lov'd by a Painter who excell'd in his Art. The&s;e two Lovers neglected no Opportuni|ty to be in each others Company. One day, &s;aid the Mi&s;tre&s;s to her Gallant, I find that when you have a de&s;ire to &s;peak to me, you are con&s;train'd to make a great many trou|ble&s;ome Signs, as counterfeiting your Voice, throwing Stones, Whi&s;tling, Spitting, and the like; but I would &s;pare you all this pains. Cannot you think of &s;ome Invention that may &s;erve us for a Signal. Yes, yes, reply'd the Painter, I will paint two Vails, the whitene&s;s of one of which &s;hall &s;urpa&s;s the brightne&s;s of a Star that appears in the Water, and the black|ne&s;s of the other &s;hall outvie the Locks of a
<PB N="125" REF="71">Moor. When you &s;ee me come forth with the&s;e Vails, you &s;hall know what they &s;igni|fie. The Painter's Prentice, who was no le&s;s in love with the Woman, then his Ma&s;ter, being in the next Room heard this Agree|ment between the two Lovers, which pleas'd him extremely; becau&s;e he re&s;olv'd to make his advantage of it. In &s;hort, one Day that his Ma&s;ter was gone to draw &s;ome Lady's Picture in the City, he took the Vail of A&s;&s;ig|nation, and walk'd before the Hou&s;e of the Mer|chant's Wife, who &s;tood watching at the Win|dow. She no &s;ooner perceiv'd him, but with|out con&s;idering either the Prentice's Counte|nance, or his Gate, &s;he came down and admitted his Care&s;&s;es as &s;he was wont to do the Pain|ter's. The Prentice, when he had &s;atisfi'd his Pa&s;&s;ion, return'd home and put the Vail where he had it. At the &s;ame time, the Painter be|ing come back, had a provocation to &s;ee his Mi&s;tre&s;s, who very much wonder'd to &s;ee the Vail again &s;o &s;oon, butran to meet her Joy, and imprudently ask'd him the rea&s;on of his &s;o quick return. The Painter, then &s;melling a Rat, &s;aid not a word, but flung from her in a Pa&s;&s;ion, flew to his Prentice, and made him pay dear for the Plea&s;ure he had ta&s;ted. And then reflecting upon the ea&s;ie conde&s;cention of the Merchant's Wife to &s;atisfie the De&s;ires of his Man, brake off all familiarity with her. Now if the Woman had not yielded &s;o readily to the exta&s;ies of the Prentice, &s;he had not lo&s;t &s;o pa&s;&s;ionate, tho' criminal a Lover.</P>
<P>The Lyon's Mother ob&s;erving that her Son gave ear to <HI>Damna</HI> with delight, was afrai d lea&s;t the &s;ubtle Fox &s;hould by his Eloquence put
<PB N="126" REF="72">a &s;top to the Cour&s;e of Ju&s;tice. Son, therefore, &s;aid &s;he to the Lyon, my Mind gives me, that you believe <HI>Damna</HI> Innocent, and that you look upon as fal&s;e Accu&s;ers all tho&s;e that have te|&s;tifyd again&s;t him. I never thought, continu'd &s;he, that a King, who is lookt upon to be the mo&s;t Ju&s;t of Princes, could &s;uffer him&s;elf to be &s;educed by the fair Words and glozing In&s;inuations of a Capital Offender, who endea|vours to e&s;cape the rigour of the Law: And &s;o &s;aying, &s;he ro&s;e up in a great Pa&s;&s;ion, and re|tir'd to her own Apartment. The Lyon there|fore, to pacifie his Mother, or rather begining to believe <HI>Damna</HI> Guilty, order'd him to be Committed.</P>
<P>When the Room was clear, his Mother re|turn'd, and addre&s;&s;ing her &s;elf to her Son, I know not, &s;aid &s;he, how a Per&s;on of &s;o much Under&s;tanding came to &s;uffer him&s;elf to be tempted to &s;o great a Crime. 'Twas Envy certainly, an&s;wer'd the King, which made him commit &s;o foul a piece of Treachery. Envy, pur&s;u'd he, is a Vice that keeps the Mind in a perpetual Motion, and torments it with conti|nual Di&s;quiet. There are al&s;o &s;ome envious Per&s;ons who bear a Grudge, even to tho&s;e that do 'em good. As you will find by the follow|ing Example.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="127" REF="72">
<HEAD>The Fable of three envious Per&s;ons that found Money.</HEAD>
<P>THree Men travelled together: Said the el|de&s;t to the re&s;t, pray be pleas'd to tell me, why you leave your Hou&s;es to wander in Fo|reign Countries. I have quitted my native Soil, an&s;wer'd one, becau&s;e I could not endure the &s;ight of &s;ome Per&s;ons whom I hated wor&s;e then Death: And this proceeds from a jealous Humour, that cannot endure to &s;ee another happy. The &s;ame Di&s;temper, &s;aid the third, torments my Brea&s;t, and &s;ends me a rambling about the World. Then we are all three, re|ply'd the elde&s;t, troubl'd with the &s;ame Di&s;ea&s;e. Now &punc;the&s;e Men being of the &s;ame Humour, immediately clos'd in a Union together. One day as they travell'd through a Valley, they &s;py'd a round Bag of Money, which &s;ome Tra|veller had dropt in the Road. Pre&s;ently they alighted all three, and cry'd one to another, let us &s;hare this Money, and return home again where we may be merry and injoy our &s;elves. But this they only &s;aid from the Teeth out|ward; for every one being unwilling that his Companion &s;hould have the lea&s;t Benefit, they were every one at a &s;tand, whether it were not be&s;t to go on without medling with the Bag, to the end the re&s;t might do the &s;ame: and they &s;topt a whole Day and Night in the &s;ame place to con&s;ider what they &s;hould do. Two days after the King of the Country riding a Hunting with all his Court, the Cha&s;e led him into this Valley. He rode up to the three
<PB N="128" REF="73">Men, and ask'd 'em what they did with the Money that lay on the Ground; and being thus &s;urpriz'd, they could not avoid telling the Truth. Sir, &s;aid they, we are all three tur|moil'd with the &s;ame Pa&s;&s;ion, which is Envy. This Pa&s;&s;ion has forc'd us to quit our Country, and keeps us company wherever we go. You would do a very great act of Charity, if you could cure us of this Pa&s;&s;ion. Well, &s;aid the King, 'tis requi&s;ite, that every one of you &s;hould tell me to what degree his Pa&s;&s;ion prevails over him, to the end I may apply a Remedy if it lye in my Power. My Envy, &s;aid the one, has got &s;uch head, that I cannot endure to do good to any Man living. You are an hone&s;t Man in compari&s;on of me, cry'd the &s;econd; for I am &s;o far from doing good to another my &s;elf, that I mortally hate, that any body el&s;e &s;hould do another Man good. Said the third, you nei|ther of you po&s;&s;e&s;s the quality of Envy in &s;o eminent a degree as I do. For I cannot only endure to oblige, nor to &s;ee any other per&s;on oblig'd, but I hate that any body &s;hould do my &s;elf a Kindne&s;s. The King was &s;o a&s;toni&s;h'd to hear 'em talk at that rate, that he knew not what to an&s;wer. At length, after he had &s;tu|dy'd a long time, You de&s;erve not, &s;aid he, that I &s;hould let you have the Money, and at the &s;ame time commanded the Bag to be taken from 'em, and condemn'd 'em to the Puni&s;h|ments which they had incur'd. He that could not endure to do good, was &s;ent into the De|&s;art, barefoot and without Provi&s;ion. He that could not endure to &s;ee good done to another, had his Head chopt off; becau&s;e he was un|worthy to live, as being one that lov'd nothing
<PB N="129" REF="73">but Mi&s;chief. And la&s;tly, as for him that could not endure any good to be done to him&s;elf, his Life was &s;par'd; in regard his torment was only a torment to him&s;elf, and he was put into a quarter of the Kingdom, where the People were the be&s;t natur'd, and the mo&s;t addicted to the performance of good Deeds and charitable Actions. Which became &s;uch torment to his Soul, that he dy'd &s;oon after.</P>
<P>Thus, continu'd the Lyon, you &s;ee what Envy is. Therefore, &s;aid the Mother, &s;o much the rather ought <HI>Damna</HI> to be put to Death, &s;ince he is attainted of &s;o dangerous a Vice. That is the thing I am not well a&s;&s;ur'd of yet, reply'd the Lyon, which I am re&s;olv'd to be, before he be Condemn'd.</P>
<P>After <HI>Damna</HI> was committed to Pri&s;on, his Wife <HI>Kalila,</HI> mov'd with Compa&s;&s;ion, went to &s;ee him, and read him this Curtain Lecture. Did I not tell ye, &s;aid &s;he, that it behov'd ye to take a care of going on with the execution of your Enterpri&s;e? for People of Judgment and Di&s;cretion never begin a Bu&s;ine&s;s till they have warily con&s;ider'd what will be the I&s;&s;ue of it. A Tree is never to be planted before we know what Fruit it will produce. While <HI>Kalila</HI> was thus <HI>Jobing Damna,</HI> there was in the Pri&s;on a Bear, of whom they were not a|ware, and who having overheard 'em, re&s;olv'd to make u&s;e of what his Ears had furni&s;h'd him withal, as occa&s;ion &s;hould direct him.</P>
<P>The next Day, betimes in the Morning, the Council met again, where after every one had taken their Place, the Mother of the Lyon thus began. We ought no more to delay the Puni&s;hment of a capital Offender, then the
<PB N="130" REF="74">Condemnation of the Innocent is to be carried on with Precipitation: And a King that for|bears the Puni&s;hment of a Caitiff, &s;ins no le&s;s then if he had been a Confederate with him. The Lyon finding that his Mother &s;poke nothing but Rea&s;on, commanded that <HI>Damna</HI> &s;hould be brought to his Tryal. Then the Cheif Ju|&s;tice ri&s;ing from his Seat, de&s;ir'd his A&s;&s;i&s;tants to give their Opinion in this Matter; &s;aying withal, that it would produce three great Ad|vantages. Fir&s;t, That Truth would be found out, and Ju&s;tice done. Secondly, That wick|ed Men and Traytors would be puni&s;h'd ac|cording to the Will of God. And Thirdly, That the Kingdom would be cleard of Knaves and Impo&s;ters, who, by their Artifices, trou|bl'd the Repo&s;e of it. But in regard that no body knew the depth of the Bu&s;ine&s;s, no body dur&s;t open their Mouths to &s;peak; which gave <HI>Damna</HI> an occa&s;ion to defend him&s;elf with &s;o much the more Confidence and Audacitie. Sir, &s;aid he, had I committed the Crime of of which I &s;tand accus'd, I might draw &s;ome Advantage from the general Silence: But I find my &s;elf &s;o Innocent, that I wait with in|differency the end of this A&s;&s;embly. Never|thele&s;s, I mu&s;t needs &s;ay this by the way, That &s;eeing no body has been pleas'd to deliver his Sentiments upon this Affair, 'tis a certain Sign that they believe me Innocent. Let me not be blam d for &s;peaking in my own Ju&s;tification: I am to be excus'd in that, &s;ince it is lawful for every Man to defend him&s;elf. Therefore, &s;aid he, pur&s;uing his Di&s;cour&s;e, I be&s;eech all this Illu&s;trious Company to &s;ay in the King's Pre&s;ence, whatever they know concerning me;
<PB N="131" REF="74">but let 'em have a care of affirming any thing but what is true, le&s;t they find them&s;elves in|volv'd in what befel the ignorant Phy&s;ician.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the ignorant Phy&s;ician.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a Man who was altogether void of Knowledge and Experience, yet call'd him&s;elf a Phy&s;ician. However he was &s;o Igno|rant, that he knew not the Cholick from the Drop&s;ie, nor could he di&s;tingui&s;h Rhubarb from Bezoar. He never vi&s;ited a Patient twice, for his fir&s;t coming kill'd him. On the other &s;ide, there was in the &s;ame Province another Phy&s;ician of that Learning and Ability, that he cur'd the mo&s;t de&s;perate Di&s;ea&s;es by the vertue of many Simples, of which he had a perfect knowledge. Now this learned Man became blind, and not being able to vi&s;it his Patients, he retir'd into a De&s;art, there to live at his Ea&s;e. The ignorant Phy&s;ician no &s;ooner under|&s;tood that the only Man he lookt upon with an envious Eye was retir'd out of the way, but he began to di&s;play his Ignorance, while he endeavour'd to manife&s;t his Knowledge. One Day the King of the Country's Daughter fell &s;ick: Upon which the knowing Phy&s;ician was &s;ent for, becau&s;e, that be&s;ides that he had al|ready &s;erv'd the Court, People were convinc'd that he was much more able then he that went about to &s;et him&s;elf up. The learned Phy|&s;ician being in the Prince&s;s's Chamber, and under&s;tanding the nature of her Di&s;ea&s;e, order'd
<PB N="132" REF="75">her to take a certain Pill compos'd of &s;uch In|gredients as he pre&s;crib'd. Pre&s;ently they ask'd him where &s;uch and &s;uch Drugs were to be had. Formerly, an&s;wer'd the Phy&s;ician, I have &s;een them in &s;uch and &s;uch Boxes in the King's Trea&s;urie, but what Confu&s;ion there might have been &s;ince among tho&s;e Boxes he knew not. Upon that the ignorant Phy&s;i|cian pretended that he knew the Drugs very well, and that he al&s;o knew how to make u&s;e of 'em. Go then, &s;aid the King, to my Trea|&s;urie, and take what is requi&s;ite. Away went the ignorant Phy&s;ician, and fell a &s;earching for the Box; but becau&s;e many of the Boxes were alike, and for that he knew not the Drugs when he &s;aw 'em, he rather cho&s;e, in the puzzle of his Judgment, to take a Box at a venture, then to acknowledge his &s;tupidi|ty. But he never con&s;ider'd, that they who meddle with what they under&s;tand not, are ge|nerally con&s;train'd to an early or late Repen|tance. For in the Box which he had pick'd out, there was a mo&s;t exqui&s;ite Poy&s;on, of which he made his Pills, and which he caus'd the Prince&s;s to take, who dy'd immediately after: So that the King commanded the ignorant Phy&s;ician to be apprehended, and condemn'd him to Death.</P>
<P>This Example, pur&s;ued <HI>Damna,</HI> teaches us, that no Man ought to &s;ay or do a thing which he under&s;tands not. However, a Man may perceive by your Phy&s;iognomie, &s;aid one of the A&s;&s;i&s;tants, interrupting him, that you are a fly Companion, one that can talk better then you can act, and there|fore,
<PB N="133" REF="75">that there is little heed to be given to what you &s;ay. Then the Judge ask'd him that &s;poke la&s;t, what Proof he could produce of the certainty of what he averr'd. Phy&s;iog|nomi&s;ts, an&s;wer'd he, ob&s;erve, that they who have their Eyebrows parted, the left Eye blear'd, and bigger then the right, the No&s;e turn'd toward the left &s;ide, and who coun|terfeiting your Hypocrites, ca&s;t their Eyes al|ways toward the Ground, are generally Tray|tors and Sycophants: And therefore <HI>Damna</HI> having all the&s;e Marks, I thought I might &s;afely give that Character of him which I have done, without any Injury to Truth. Your Art may fail you, reply'd <HI>Damna,</HI> for 'tis God who forms us as he plea&s;es, and gives us &s;uch a Phy&s;iognomy as he thinks fitting. If what you &s;ay were true, and that every Man carry'd written in his Forehead what he had in his Heart, whereby the Wicked might cer|tainly be di&s;tingui&s;h'd from the Righteous, there would be no need of Judges and Witne&s;|&s;es to determin the Di&s;putes and Differences that ari&s;e in civil Society. In like manner it would be unju&s;t to put &s;ome to their Oaths, others to the Rack to di&s;cover the Truth, be|cau&s;e it might be evidently &s;een. Moreover, if the Marks you have mention'd impos'd a ne|ce&s;&s;ity upon tho&s;e that bear 'em, would it not be palpable Inju&s;tice to puni&s;h the Wicked, &s;ince they are not free in their own Actions? We mu&s;t then conclude, according to this Maxime, that if I were the cau&s;e of <HI>Chotorb<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI>'s Death, I am not to be puni&s;h'd for it, &s;ince I am not Ma&s;ter of my Actions, but was forc'd to it by the Marks which I bear. You &s;ee then
<PB N="134" REF="76">by this way of arguing, that your Inferences are fal&s;e. <HI>Damna</HI> having thus &s;topt the A&s;&s;i|&s;tant's Mouth, no body dur&s;t adventure to &s;ay any thing more; which forc'd the Judge to &s;end him back to Pri&s;on; and in the mean time the Court made their Report to the King of what had pa&s;s'd.</P>
<P><HI>Damna</HI> being &s;till in Pri&s;on, was about to have &s;ent a Me&s;&s;enger to <HI>Kalila</HI> to come to him; but a Fox that was in the Room by accident, &s;par'd him that labour, by informing him of <HI>Kalilah</HI>'s Death, who dy'd the Day before for Grief to &s;ee her Husband entan|gled in &s;uch an unfortunate Noo&s;e.</P>
<P>The News of <HI>Kalilah's</HI> Death touch'd <HI>Dam|na</HI> &s;o nearly to the Quick, that like one who car'd not to live any longer, he &s;eem'd to be altogether comfortle&s;s. Upon which, the Fox endeavour'd to chear him up, by telling him, that if he had lo&s;t a dear and loving Wife, he had found in him a faithful Friend. There|upon <HI>Damna</HI> knowing he had no Friend left that he could tru&s;t, and for that the Fox &s;o frankly proffer'd him his Service, accepted his Kindne&s;s. I be&s;eech you, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> go to the Court, and give me a faithful account of what People &s;ay of me: 'Tis the fir&s;t proof of your Friend&s;hip which I de&s;ire of you.</P>
<P>Mo&s;t willingly, an&s;wer'd the Fox; and &s;o taking his leave he went to the Court, to &s;ee what Ob&s;ervations he could make.</P>
<P>The next Day, by break of day, the Ly|on's Mother went to her Son, and ask'd him what he had done with <HI>Damna?</HI> He is &s;till in Pri&s;on, an&s;wer'd the King. What a Rack|er is here, reply'd the Mother, to condemn a
<PB N="135" REF="76">ra&s;cally Fellow! and by my Troth, I'm afraid, when all's done, he'll e&s;cape your &s;imple Heads by his Dexterity and Cunning. If you plea&s;e to be pre&s;ent, an&s;wer'd the King, you &s;hall &s;ee what will be re&s;olv'd upon. Which &s;aid, he order'd <HI>Damna</HI> to be &s;ent for, that the Bu&s;ine&s;s might be brought to a conclu&s;ion. The King's Or|ders were obey'd, and the Pri&s;oner brought to the Bar, the Chief Ju&s;tice put the &s;ame Que&s;tion as the Day before, whether any body had any thing to &s;ay again&s;t <HI>Damna.</HI> But no body &s;aid a word, which <HI>Damna</HI> ob&s;erving, I &s;ee, &s;aid he, that there is no body very forward to bear fal&s;e Witne&s;s, for fear of expo&s;ing him&s;elf to the Puni&s;hment which the Faulconer incurr'd, for having given a fal&s;e Te&s;timony.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="136" REF="77">
<HEAD>The Fable of the vertuous Woman and the young Faulconer.</HEAD>
<P>A Very hone&s;t Citizen had a Wife no le&s;s mo|de&s;t then beautiful. Among the re&s;t of his Servants he had a young Lad that was ve|ry vicious, but he could not find in his heart to put him away, becau&s;e he was a good Faulconer. Now in regard it is the Cu&s;tom of the Ea&s;tern People to keep their Women very private, this Lad for a long time had never &s;een his Mi&s;tre&s;s. But having view'd her one Day by accident, he became pa&s;&s;ionate|ly in love with her. He courted her by the means of a Female Solicitrix; but both he and &s;he lo&s;t all their labour, becau&s;e he had to do with a vertuous Woman. At length, de&s;pairing to pro&s;per in his Amours, he chang'd his Love into Hatred, and medi|tated a mo&s;t bloody Revenge. To which effect, he went and bought two Parrots: One of which he taught to pronounce the&s;e Words, <HI>I &s;aw my Mi&s;tre&s;s a bed with the Faulconer.</HI> And the other, <HI>For my part, I &s;ay nothing.</HI> In a little time after, the Citizen having in|vited certain of his Friends to a great Fea&s;t, when every body was &s;eated at the Table, the&s;e Parrots began to repeat their Le&s;&s;on. Now you mu&s;t under&s;tand that the Faulconer had taught the&s;e Parrots to &s;peak the&s;e words in his own Country Language. Which be|cau&s;e the Ma&s;ter, Mi&s;tre&s;s, nor any of the Servants under&s;tood, no body minded what they &s;aid. But the Gue&s;ts, who happen'd to
<PB N="137" REF="77">be the Faulconer's Country-men, no &s;ooner heard the Parrots, but they forbore Eating. The Citizen a&s;toni&s;h'd, ask'd 'em the rea&s;on. Do ye not under&s;tand, an&s;wer'd the Gue&s;ts, what the&s;e Birds &s;ay? No&mdash; reply'd the Citizen. Why, they &s;ay, &s;aid the Gue&s;t that &s;poke fir&s;t, they &s;ay that your Faulconer has made you a Cuckold. The Citizen had bin &s;o &s;urpriz'd at the&s;e words, that he begg'd pardon of his Friends for having invited 'em to a place where &s;o much uncleanne&s;s had been committed. The Faulconer al&s;o, the more to exa&s;perate his Ma&s;ter again&s;t his Wife, confe&s;s'd the Fact, and &s;aid 'twas true. Which put the Citizen into &s;o great a Rage, that he order'd his Wife to be put to Death.</P>
<P>But when they that were order'd to exe|cute her Husband's Command came to her, &s;he told 'em, that &s;he was ready to &s;uffer the Puni&s;hment which he thought fit to inflict upon her; however, &s;he could have wi&s;h'd he would have heard her fir&s;t; for that if her In|nocence &s;hould afterwards come to be known, his Repentance would be too late. This being reported to her Husband, he &s;ent for her into a little Clo&s;et, whither he order'd her to come veil'd, and bid her ju&s;tify her &s;elf, if &s;he could. For the Parrots, &s;aid he, are no rational Creatures, and therefore cannot be accus'd either of Impo&s;ture or Bribery: How then will you ju&s;tifie your &s;elf?</P>
<P>You are bound, an&s;wer'd the Woman, to be well a&s;&s;ur'd of the truth before you con|demn me. Ask tho&s;e Gentlemen then, whe|ther they ob&s;erve any variety of Relation in the Parrot's Speech, or whether they only repeat
<PB N="138" REF="78">the &s;ame thing over and over again. If they only repeat the &s;ame thing, be convinc'd that it is only a Device made u&s;e of by your Servant, to provoke your under&s;erved anger again&s;t me, becau&s;e he could not obtain tho&s;e Favours from me which he de&s;ir'd.</P>
<P>The Citizen judging by her prudent Advice that the Woman might not be guilty, went to his Gue&s;ts, carry'd 'em the Parrots, and de|&s;ir'd 'em diligently to ob&s;erve for two or three Days, whether the Birds &s;poke any thing el&s;e be&s;ides what they had heard: Which the Gue&s;ts accordingly did. In &s;hort they found that the Parrots were always in the &s;ame Le&s;&s;on; of which they inform'd the Citizen, who then acknowledg'd the innocence of his Wife, and was &s;en&s;ible of the Malice of his Servant, whom he &s;ent for. The Faulconer in&s;tantly appear'd with his Hawk upon his Fi&s;t; to whom the Woman, Villain, &s;aid &s;he, how did&s;t thou dare to accu&s;e me of &s;o foul a Crime? Becau&s;e you were guilty, an&s;wer'd the Servant. But he had no &s;ooner utter'd the Words, when the Hawk upon his Fi&s;t flew in his Face and tore out his Eyes. This was the Fruit of his in&s;olence, and &s;landerous Malice.</P>
<P>This Example, &s;aid <HI>Damna,</HI> pur&s;uing his Di&s;cour&s;e, in&s;tructs us, how hainous a thing it is to bear fal&s;e Witne&s;s: For it always turns to our Shame and Confu&s;ion. After <HI>Damna</HI> had done &s;peaking, the Lion looking upon his Mother, ask'd her Opinion. I find, an&s;wer'd &s;he, that you have a kindne&s;s for this wicked Varlet, who will cau&s;e nothing
<PB N="139" REF="78">but Faction and Di&s;order in your Court, if you have not a great Care. I be&s;eech you, re|ply'd the Lion, to tell me who has &s;o &s;trongly prepo&s;&s;e&s;s'd you again&s;t <HI>Damna.</HI> 'Tis but too true, reply'd the Queen Mother, that he has committed the Crime that is lay'd to his Charge, but I &s;hall not di&s;cover the Per&s;on who entru&s;ted me with this Secret. However I will go to him, and ask him whether he will be willing that I &s;hould bring him in for a Witne&s;s: And &s;o &s;aying, &s;he went home im|mediately and &s;ent for the Leopard.</P>
<P>When he was come, go, &s;aid &s;he at my re|que&s;t, and boldly declare what thou know&s;t concerning <HI>Damna.</HI> Madam an&s;wer'd the Leopard, you know that I am ready to &s;acri|fice my Life to your Maje&s;ties Commands, di&s;po&s;e of me as you plea&s;e. With that &s;he carry'd the Leopard to the King, to whom, Sir, &s;aid &s;he, here is an undeniable Witne&s;s which I have to produce again&s;t <HI>Damna.</HI> Then the Lion addre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to the Leopard, ask'd him what proofs he had of the Delin|quents Trea&s;on. Sir, an&s;wer'd the Leopard, I was willing to conceal this Truth on pur|po&s;e for &s;ometime, to &s;ee what rea&s;ons he would bring to ju&s;tifie him&s;elf. Then the Leopard made a long recital of what had pa&s;t between <HI>Kalila</HI> and her Husband. Which depo&s;ition being made in the hearing of &s;eve|ral Bea&s;ts, was &s;oon divulg'd far and near, and then confirm'd by a &s;econd Te&s;timony, which was the Bear, of whom I made menti|on before. After this the Delinquent was ask'd what he had to &s;ay for him&s;elf: But then he had not a Word more to &s;ay: Which
<PB N="140" REF="79">at length determin'd the Lion to pronounce Sentence, that <HI>Damna,</HI> as a Traytour, &s;hould be &s;hut up between four Walls, and there &s;tarv'd to Death.</P>
<P>The&s;e two Chapters are le&s;&s;ons to Deceiv|ers and Sycophants, that they ought to re|form their Manners: And I think I have &s;ufficiently made it out, that Slanderers and Backbiters for the mo&s;t part, come to an unfortunate End; be&s;ides, that they render them&s;elves Odious to all human Society. He that plants Thorns, mu&s;t never expect to gather Ro&s;es.</P>
</DIV3>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="141" REF="79">
<HEAD>CHAP. III. <HI>How we ought to make choice of Friends, and what advantage may be reap'd from their Conver&s;ation.</HI></HEAD>
<P>YOU have told me, &s;aid the King, the Story of a Knave, who under the fal&s;e appearances of Friend&s;hip, occa&s;ion'd the Death of an inno|cent Per&s;on: Now I de&s;ire you to tell me what Benefit may be made of Friends in civil Life. Your Maje&s;ty, an&s;wer'd the <HI>Bramin,</HI> ought to know, that hone&s;t Men e&s;teem and value no|thing &s;o much in this World, as a real Friend. Becau&s;e he is as it were another &s;elf, to whom we impart our mo&s;t &s;ecret Thoughts, who par|takes of our Joy, and comforts us in our Af|fliction: Add to this that his Company is an extraordinary Plea&s;ure to us. The Fable which I am going to relate, will give you a more clear Idea of the &s;weets of Reciprocal Friend&s;hip.</P>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="142" REF="80">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Raven, the Rat, the Pi|geon, the Tortoi&s;e, and the Goat.</HEAD>
<P>NEar adjoyning to <HI>Ca&s;chmir,</HI> there was a mo&s;t delightful Place, and in regard it was full of Wild-fowl, it was much frequen|ted by Fowlers. A Raven e&s;py'd at the foot of a Tree, on the top of which he had built his Ne&s;t, a certain Fowler with a Net in his hand. The poor Raven was afraid at fir&s;t, imagining it was him&s;elf that the Fowler aim'd at. But his fears ceas'd, when he ob|&s;erv'd the Motions of the Per&s;on, who after he had &s;pread his Net upon the Ground, and &s;catter'd &s;ome Corn about it to allure the Birds, went and hid him&s;elf behind a Hedge, where he was no &s;ooner laid down, but a flock of Pigeons, threw them&s;elves upon the Corn, without hearkning to their Chieftain, who would fain have hinder'd 'em, telling 'em that they were not &s;o ra&s;hly to abandon them|&s;elves to their Pa&s;&s;ions. This Prudent Leader, who was an old Pigeon, call'd <HI>Montivaga,</HI> per|ceiving 'em &s;o indocible and ob&s;tinate, had a de&s;ire to &s;eparate from 'em: But Fate that im|periou&s;ly Controuls us, con&s;train'd him to fol|low the Fortune of the Re&s;t, &s;o that he alight|ed upon the Ground with his Companions. Thus when they &s;aw them&s;elves under the Net, and ju&s;t ready to fall into the Fowlers hands, Well! &s;aid <HI>Montivaga,</HI> what think you now, will you believe me another time? I &s;ee, continu'd he, perceiving how they flut|ter'd to get loo&s;e, that every one of you minds
<PB N="143" REF="80">his own &s;afety, never regarding what becomes of his Companion. We ought to make it our Bu&s;ine&s;s to help one another; and it may be that &s;o Charitable an Action may &s;ave us. Let us altogether &s;trive to break the Net. With that, they all obey'd <HI>Montivaga,</HI> and &s;o well be&s;tirr'd them&s;elves, that they tore the Net and carry'd it up into the Air. Upon which, the Fowler, vex'd to lo&s;e &s;o fair a Prey, follow'd the Pigeons, in hopes that the weight of the Net would tire 'em.</P>
<P>In the mean time the Raven ob&s;erving all this, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, this is a very plea&s;ant Adventure, I'm re&s;olv'd to &s;ee the I&s;&s;ue of it. <HI>Montivaga</HI> ob&s;erving, that the Fowler was re|&s;olv'd to follow 'em, this wicked Man, &s;aid he to his Companion, will never give over pur&s;uing us, till he has lo&s;t &s;ight of us; and therefore let us bend our &s;light to &s;ome thick Wood, or &s;ome ruin'd Ca&s;tle, to the end that being protected by &s;ome Forre&s;t or thick Wall, de&s;pair may force him to retire. This Expedi|ent had the de&s;ir'd Succe&s;s: For having &s;e|cur'd them&s;elves among the Boughs of a thick Forre&s;t, where the Fowler lo&s;t &s;ight of 'em, he return'd home, full &s;orely afflicted for the lo&s;s of his Net, and his Game to boot.</P>
<P>As for the Raven, he follow'd 'em &s;till, ra|ther out of Curio&s;ity then otherwi&s;e, to know how they got out of the Net, to the end he might make u&s;e of the &s;ame Secret, upon the like Occa&s;ion.</P>
<P>The Pigeons thus quit of the Fowler, were overjoy'd; however they were &s;till troubl'd with the entanglements of the Net which they could not get rid of: But <HI>Montivaga,</HI> who
<PB N="144" REF="81">was fertile in Inventions found a way for that. We mu&s;t addre&s;s our &s;elves, &s;aid he, to &s;ome intimate Friend, who &s;etting a&s;ide all Treache|rous and By-ends, will go faithfully to Work. I know a Rat that lives not far from hence, a faithful Friend of mine who&s;e name is <HI>Zirac;</HI> he will gnaw the Net, and &s;et us at Liberty. The Pigeons, who de&s;ir'd nothing more, con|&s;ented to it: And &s;oon after they arriv'd at the Rat's hole, who came forth upon the flut|tering of their Wings; and who wondering no le&s;s to &s;ee <HI>Montivaga</HI> &s;o intangl'd in the Net, Oh! my dear Friend, &s;aid he, how came you into this Condition? To whom <HI>Montivaga,</HI> I de&s;ire you, &s;aid he, fir&s;t of all to di&s;ingage my Companions. But <HI>Zirac,</HI> more troubl'd to &s;ee his Friend bound, needs would pay his Re&s;pects to him; at what time <HI>Montivaga,</HI> I Conjure you once more, &s;aid he, to &s;et my Companions at Liberty before me: For be&s;ides that being their Chieftain, I ought to take care for them in the fir&s;t place, I am afraid the pains thou wilt take to unbind me, will &s;lacken thy good Offices to the Re&s;t; whereas the Friend&s;hip thou ha&s;t for me, will excite the<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to ha&s;ten their deliverance, that thou may&s;t be the &s;ooner in a Condition to give me my <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">reedom. The Rat admiring the &s;olidity of the&s;e Arguments, applauded <HI>Montivaga</HI>'s Genero&s;ity, and fell to unloo&s;en the Strangers; which was &s;oon done, and then he perform'd the &s;ame kind Office for his Friend.</P>
<P><HI>Montivaga</HI> thus at Liberty, together with his Companions, took his leave of <HI>Zirac,</HI> returning him a thou&s;and Th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nks for his Kind|ne&s;s&punc; And when they were gone, the Rat re|turn'd to his hole.</P>
<PB N="145" REF="81">
<P>The Raven having ob&s;erv'd all this, had a great de&s;ire to be acquainted with <HI>Zirac.</HI> To which end he went to <HI>Zirac</HI>'s hole, and call'd him by his name. <HI>Zirac</HI> frighted to hear a &s;trange Voice, ask'd who he was? To which the Raven an&s;wer'd, 'tis a Raven who has &s;ome Bu&s;ine&s;s of Importance to impart to thee. What Bu&s;ine&s;s, reply'd the Rat, can we have together? We are Enemies. Then the Ra|ven told him, he de&s;ir'd to li&s;t him&s;elf in the Number of a Rat's friends whom he knew to be &s;o &s;incere a Friend. I be&s;eech you, an&s;wer'd <HI>Zirac,</HI> find out &s;ome other Creature, who&s;e Friend&s;hip agrees better with your Di&s;po&s;ition. You lo&s;e your time in endeavouring to per|&s;uade me to &s;uch an incompatible Friend&s;hip. Never &s;tand upon incompatibilities, &s;aid the Raven, but do a generous Action, by affording a Per&s;on the &s;uccour which he de&s;ires at your hands. You may talk to me, of Genero&s;ity till your Lungs ake, reply'd <HI>Zirac,</HI> I know your Tricks too well: In a word, we are of a Species &s;o different, that we can never &s;et our Hor&s;es together. The Example of the Partridge, that over ha&s;tily granted her Friend|&s;hip to a Falcon, is a &s;ufficient warninig to make me Wi&s;er.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="146" REF="82">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Partridge and the Faul|con.</HEAD>
<P>A Partridge, &s;aid <HI>Zirac,</HI> pur&s;uing his Di&s;cour&s;e was promenading at the foot of a Hill, and jurring &s;o delightfully, that a Falcon fly|ing that way, and hearing her &s;weet Voice, de&s;ir'd her acquaintance. No body, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, can live without a Friend: It be|ing the &s;aying of wi&s;e Men, that they who want Friends, labour under perpetual Sickne&s;s. With that he would fain have acco&s;ted the Partridge; but &s;he perceiving him, e&s;cap'd into a hole, all over of a Cold Sweat for fear. The Falcon follow'd her, and pre&s;ent|ing him&s;elf at the foot of the hole, My dear Partridge, &s;aid he, I never had any great kindne&s;s hitherto for you, becau&s;e I did not know your Merit; but &s;ince my good Fortune now has made me better acquainted with it, be pleas'd to give me leave that I may offer you my Friend&s;hip, and that I may beg of you, to grant me yours. Tyrant, an&s;wer'd the Partridge, let me alone, and labour not in vain to reconcile Fire and Water. Mo&s;t amiable Partridge, reply'd the Falcon, bani&s;h the&s;e idle Fears, and be convinc'd that I love you, and de&s;ire that we may enter into a Fami|liarity together. Had I any other de&s;ign, I would not trouble my &s;elf to Court you with &s;uch &s;oft Language out of your Hole. I have &s;uch good Pounces, that I would have &s;eiz'd a dozen of Partridges in the time that I have been courting your Affection: And I am &s;ure
<PB N="147" REF="82">you will be glad of my Friend&s;hip: Fir&s;t be|cau&s;e no Falcon &s;hall do you any harm, while you are under my Protection. Secondly, be|cau&s;e that being in my Ne&s;t, you will be honour'd by all the World; and la&s;tly I will procure you a Male to keep you Company. Should all this be true, reply'd the Partridge, I ought not to accept your Propo&s;al: For you being the Prince of Birds, and I a poor &s;illy Partridge, whenever I &s;hall do any thing that &s;hall di&s;plea&s;e you, you will be &s;ure to tear me to pieces. No, no, &s;aid the Falcon, &s;et your heart at re&s;t for that: The faults that Friends commit are ea&s;ily pardon'd. At length the Falcon te&s;tify'd &s;uch an extraordinary Friend&s;hip for the Partridge, that &s;he could no longer refu&s;e coming out of her Hole: And no &s;ooner was &s;he come forth, but the Falcon ten|derly embrac'd her; he carry'd her to his Ne&s;t, where for two or three Days he made it his whole Bu&s;ine&s;s to divert her. The Partridge overjoy'd to &s;ee her &s;elf &s;o Care&s;s'd, gave her Tongue more liberty then &s;he had done before; which began to offend the Falcon, tho' he di&s;|&s;embl'd it. One Day he fell ill; which hin|der'd him from going abroad in &s;earch of Prey; &s;o that he grew hungry; and wanting Victuals he grew melancholy. His being out of hu|mour allarm'd the Partridge, who kept her &s;elf in a Corner with a very mode&s;t Countenance. But the Falcon no longer able to endure the importunities of his Stomach, re&s;olv'd to pick a &s;light Quarrel with the Partridge. To which purpo&s;e, 'tis not fitting, &s;aid he, that you &s;hould lye lurking in the &s;hade, while all the World is expos'd to the heat of the Sun. The Par|tridge,
<PB N="148" REF="83">trembling every joynt of her, King of Birds, &s;aid &s;he, 'tis now Night, and all the World is in the &s;hade as well as I; nor do I know what Sun you mean. In&s;olent Baggage; reply'd the Falcon, then you'l make me either a Liar or a Mad-man: And &s;o &s;aying, he fell upon her and tore her to pieces.</P>
<P>Do not you believe, pur&s;u'd the Rat, that upon the faith of your Promi&s;es I will lye at your Mercy. Recollect your &s;elf, an&s;wer'd the Raven, and con&s;ider that 'tis not worth my while to fool my &s;tomach with &s;uch a diminu|tive Body as thine: But I know thy Friend&s;hip may be beneficial to me: Scruple not therefore to grant me this Favour. The Sages of old, reply'd the Rat, admoni&s;h us to take care of being deluded by the fair words of our Ene|mies, as was the Gentleman, who&s;e Story I am going to recite.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="149" REF="83">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Man and the Adder.</HEAD>
<P>A Man mounted upon a Camel, pa&s;t through a Thicket, and went to re&s;t him&s;elf in that part of it, from whence a Caravan was but ju&s;t departed, and where the People hav|ing left a Fire, &s;ome &s;parks of it being driven by the Wind, &s;et a Bu&s;h, wherein lay an Adder, all in a flame; which environ'd the Adder in &s;uch a manner, that he knew not how to e&s;cape. At the &s;ame In&s;tant he per|ceiv'd the Man already mention'd, and beg'd of him to &s;ave his Life. The Man being na|turely compa&s;&s;ionate, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, 'tis true the&s;e Creatures are Enemies to mankind; however good Actions are of great Value: and whoever &s;ows the &s;eed of good Works &s;hall reap the Fruit of Ble&s;&s;ings. After he had made this Reflexion, he took a Sack, and ty|ing it to the end of his Lance, reach'd it over the flame to the Adder, who flung him&s;elf into it: And then the Knight pull'd back the Bag, and gave the Adder leave to come forth; telling him he might go about his Bu&s;ine&s;s, provided he never did any more harm to Men, &s;ince a Man had done him &s;o great a piece of Service. But the Adder an&s;wer'd, think not that I in|tend to be gone &s;o calmly: My de&s;ign is fir&s;t to throw my Venom upon thee and thy Ca|mel. Be more ju&s;t, reply'd the Knight, and tell me whether it be lawful to recompence good with evil. In &s;o doing, &s;aid the Adder, I &s;hall do no more, then what your &s;elves do every Day; that is to &s;ay, retaliate good
<PB N="150" REF="84">Deeds with wicked Actions, and requite Bene|fits receiv'd with Ingratitude. You cannot prove that a&s;&s;ertion, reply'd the Knight; and if you can &s;hew me any one that is of your O|pinion, I'll con&s;ent to whatever you think fit|ing. Very good, an&s;wer'd the Adder, and at the &s;ame time &s;pying a Cow, let us pro|pound our Que&s;tion, &s;aid he to this Cow, and we &s;hall &s;ee what an&s;wer &s;he will make. The Man con&s;ented, and &s;o both of 'em acco&s;ting the Cow, the Adder put the Que&s;tion to her, how a good turn was to be requited? By its contrary, reply'd the Cow, according to the Cu&s;tom of Men; and this I know by experi|ence. I belong, &s;aid &s;he, to a Man, to whom I am &s;everal ways extreamly Benefical: For I bring him a Calf every Year, I &s;upply his Hou&s;e with Milk, Butter, and Chee&s;e, and now I am grown Old, and no longer in a Condition to &s;erve him as formerly I did, he has put me in this Pa&s;ture to Fat me, with a de&s;ign to &s;ell me to a Butcher, who is to cut my Throat: Is not this a requiting Good with Evil. Then the Adder taking upon him to &s;peak, &s;aid he to the Man, what &s;ay you now, are not your own Cu&s;toms a &s;ufficient warrant for me to treat you, as I intend to do? The Knight, not a little a&s;toni&s;h'd, made an&s;wer, one Witne&s;s is not enough to convince me, I mu&s;t have two. With all my heart, reply'd the Adder; let us addre&s;s our &s;elves to this Tree, that &s;tands here before us. The Tree having heard the Sub|ject of their Di&s;pute, among Men, &s;aid he, Benefits are never requited but with ungrate|ful Actions. I protect Travellers from the heat of the Sun, neverthele&s;s, forgeting the
<PB N="151" REF="84">Deligh and Benefit of my &s;hade, they cut down my Branches to make Sticks, and Handles for Hatchets, and more then horridly barbarous they &s;aw my Body to make Planks and Rafters. Is not this a requiting Good with Evil? Then the Adder looking upon the Knight, ask'd if he were &s;atisfy'd? But he was in &s;uch a Confu&s;ion, that he knew not what to an&s;wer. However, in hopes to free him&s;elf from the danger that threaten'd him, &s;aid he to the Adder, I de&s;ire but one favour more; let us be judg'd by the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">xt Bea&s;t we meet; give me but that &s;atisfaction, 'tis all I crave; for you know Life is &s;weet. While they were thus parlying together, a Fox pa&s;&s;ing by, was &s;topp'd by the Adder, who Conjur'd him to put an end to their Controver&s;ie. Upon which the Fox de&s;iring to know the Subject of their Di&s;|pute; &s;aid the Knight, I have done this Adder a &s;ignal piece of Service, and he would fain per&s;uade me that for my reward he ought to do me a Mi&s;chief. He &s;peaks nothing but what is true, reply'd the Fox; but let me under|&s;tand what &s;ervice you have done him? Then the Knight up and told him after what manner he had re&s;cu'd him out of the flames, with that little Sack which he &s;hew'd him. How! &s;aid the Fox, laughing out-right, will you make me be|lieve, that &s;o large an Adder could get into &s;uch a little Sack as this? 'tis impo&s;&s;ible: But if the Adder will go into it again, to convince me of the Truth of what you &s;ay, I &s;hall then be a|ble to judge of his Affair. Mo&s;t willingly, reply'd the Adder, and at the &s;ame time put him&s;elf into the Sack. Then &s;aid the Fox to the Knight, now you are the Ma&s;ter of
<PB N="152" REF="85">your Enemy's Life. With that the Knight tied up the Mouth of the Sack, and with a great Stone never left till he had pounded the Adder to Death, and by that means put an end to the fears of the one, and the Di&s;putes of the other.</P>
<P>This Fable, pur&s;u'd the Rat, informs us, that there is no tru&s;ting to the fair words of an Enemy, for fear of falling into the like Mis|fortunes. You &s;ay very true, reply'd the Raven, but we ought as well to under&s;tand how to di&s;tingui&s;h Friends from Enemies: And I &s;wear I will not depart from hence, till thou ha&s;t granted me thy Friend&s;hip. <HI>Zirac</HI> per|ceiving that the Raven dealt frankly and cor|dially with him, 'tis an honour, &s;aid he, for me to wear the Title of thy Friend, and if I have &s;o long with&s;tood thy importunities 'twas only to try thee, and to &s;hew thee that I want neither Wit nor Policy: And &s;o &s;aying, he came forward, but &s;topt at the Entrance of his Hole. Why do&s;t thou not come boldly forth? De|manded the Raven. Is it becau&s;e thou art not yet a&s;&s;ur'd of my Affection? That's not the Rea&s;on, an&s;wer'd the Rat, but I'm afraid of thy Companions upon the Trees. Set thy heart at re&s;t for that; reply'd the Raven, they &s;hall re&s;pect thee as their Friend: For 'tis a Cu&s;tom among us, that when one of us en|ters into a League of Friend&s;hip with a Crea|ture of another Species, we all E&s;teem and Love that Creature. The Rat, upon the faith of the&s;e Words, acco&s;ted the Raven, who carre&s;s'd him with extraordinary Demon|&s;trations of Friend&s;hip, &s;wearing to him an in|violable Amitie, and reque&s;ting him to go and live with him in the Habitation of a Tor|toi&s;e,
<PB N="153" REF="85">of whom he gave a very noble Charact|er. I have &s;o great an inclination for you, &s;aid the Rat, that from hence forward I will follow you as your Shadow. For to tell you the truth, this is not the proper place of my Re&s;idence, only I was compell'd to take Sanctuary in this Hole, by rea&s;on of an Acci|dent, of which I would give you the Relati|on, if I thought it might not be offen&s;ive to you. My dear Friend, reply'd the Raven, can you have any &s;uch fears? or rather are you not convinc'd that I &s;hare in all your con|cerns? But the Tortoi&s;e, added he, who&s;e Friend&s;hip is a very con&s;iderable Acqui&s;ition, which you cannot fail of, will be no le&s;s glad to hear recital of your Adventures: And at the the &s;ame time he took the Rat in his Bill, and carry'd him to the Tortoi&s;es dwelling, to whom he related what he had &s;een <HI>Zirac</HI> do. She congratulated the Raven for having ac|quir'd &s;o perfect a Friend, and care&s;s'd the Rat at a very high rate, who for his part was too much a Courtier not te&s;tifie how &s;en&s;ible he was of all her Civilities. After many Com|plements on all &s;ides they went all three to walk by the Banks of a purling Rivulet; and having made choice of a Place &s;omewhat di&s;tant from the Highway, the Raven de&s;ir'd <HI>Zirac</HI> to relate his Adventures, which he did in the follow|ing manner.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="154" REF="86">
<HEAD>The Fable of <HI>Zirac</HI> 's Adventure.</HEAD>
<P>I Was born and liv'd in a City of <HI>India</HI> call'd <HI>Marout,</HI> where I made choice of a Place that &s;eem'd to be the Habitation of &s;ilence it &s;elf, that I might live without di&s;turbance. I ta&s;ted the &s;weets of a quiet Life in Company of &s;ome Rats of my own humour. There was al&s;o in our Neighbourhood a Monk, who &s;tay'd in his Mona&s;tery while his Companion went a Begging. He eat a part of what the other brought home, and kept the remainder for his Supper. But he never found his Di&s;h in the &s;ame Condition that he left it. For while he was in his Garden, I fill'd my Belly, and call'd my Companions, who were no le&s;s mindful of their duty to nature then my &s;elf. The Monk finding his Pittance dimini&s;h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d, flew out into a great rage, and lookt in his Books for &s;ome Receit, or &s;ome Engin to apprehend us; but all that nothing avail'd him, becau&s;e I was &s;till more cunning then he. One Day, one of his Friends who had been a long Journey, en|ter'd into his Cell to vi&s;it him; and after they had Dined, they fell into a Di&s;cour&s;e concerning Travel. At the &s;ame time al&s;o the Monk ask'd his Friend what he had &s;een, that was mo&s;t Rare and Curious in all his Travels. To whom the Traveller began to recount what he had ob&s;erv'd mo&s;t worthy remark; but as he was &s;tudying to give him a De&s;cription of the mo&s;t delightful Places through which he had pa&s;t, the Monk interrupted him from time to time, with the Noi&s;e which he made by clap|ing
<PB N="155" REF="86">his hands one again&s;t the other, and &s;tamp|ing with his Foot again&s;t the Ground to fright us away: For indeed we made frequent Sal|lies upon his Provi&s;ion, never regarding his in|civilities. At length the Traveller taking it in Dudgeon, that the Monk gave &s;o little ear to him, told him in down-right terms, that he did ill to detain him there to make a fool of him. Heav'n forbid, reply'd the Monk alto|ther &s;urpriz'd, that I &s;hould make a fool of a per&s;on of your Merit: I beg your Pardon for in|terrupting you, but there is in this Mona&s;tery a Ne&s;t of Rats that will eat me up to the very Ears before they have done; and there is one above the re&s;t &s;o bold, that he comes and bites me by the No&s;e as I lye a&s;leep, and I know not how to catch the felonious Devil. The Traveller &s;atisfy'd with the Monk's excu&s;es, there is &s;ome My&s;tery in this, &s;aid he, and this accident brings to my mind a Story, which I will relate, provided you will hearken to me with attention.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="156" REF="87">
<HEAD>The Fable of a Husband and his Wife.</HEAD>
<P>ONE Day the bad Weather con&s;train'd me to &s;top at a Town, where I went to lodge at one of my Friends, who receiv'd me very Civilly. After &s;upper, he put me into a Chamber that was parted from his own, by a very thin Wain&s;cote only, &s;o that in de&s;pight of my Ears, I heard all his private conver&s;ati|on with his Wife. To morrow, &s;aid he, I in|tend to invite the Principal Burghers of the Town, to diverti&s;e my Friend who has done me the Honour to come and &s;ee me. You have not &s;ufficient where withal to &s;upport your Family, an&s;wer'd his Wife, and yet you talk of being at great expences. Rather think of &s;paring that little you have for the good of your Children, and let fea&s;ting alone. The Providence of God is very great, reply'd the Husband, and we ought not to take care for to morrow, le&s;t what befel the Wolf befal us.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="157" REF="87">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Hunter and the Wolf.</HEAD>
<P>ONE Day a great Hunter returning from the chace of a Deer, which he had kill'd, &s;py'd a wild Boar coming out of a Wood, and making directly towards him. Very good, cry'd the Hunter, this Bea&s;t will augment my Provi&s;ion. With that he bent his Bow, and let fly his Arrow with &s;o good an Aim, that he wounded the Boar to Death. The Bea&s;t feel|ing him&s;elf wounded, ran with &s;o much fury at the Hunter, that he ript up his Belly with his Tusks in &s;uch a manner, that they both fell dead upon the Place.</P>
<P>At the &s;ame time there pa&s;t by a Wolf half fami&s;ht, who &s;eeing &s;o much Victuals lying upon the Ground, was in an exta&s;ie of Joy. However, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, I mu&s;t not be prodigal of all this good Food; but it behoves me to husband my good Fortune, to make my provi&s;ion hold out the longer: Neverthele&s;s, being very hungry, he was re&s;olv'd to fill his Belly. He began therefore with the &s;tring of the Bow, which was made of a Gut: But he had no &s;ooner &s;napt the &s;tring, but the Bow which was bent, gave him &s;uch a terrible thump upon the Brea&s;t, that he fell &s;tone dead upon the other Bodies.</P>
<P>This Fable, &s;aid the Husband pur&s;uing his Di&s;cour&s;e, in&s;tructs us that we ought not to be too greedily Covetous. If it be &s;o, &s;aid his Wife, ev'n invite whom you plea&s;e to mor|row.</P>
<PB N="158" REF="88">
<P>The next Day, as the Wife was getting Dinner ready, and making a &s;ort of Sawce with Honey, &s;he &s;aw a Rat fall into the Ho|ney Pot, which turn'd her Stomach. Un|willing therefore to make u&s;e of the Honey, &s;he carry'd it to the Market, and took Pitch in exchange? I was then by accident by her, and ask'd her why &s;he made &s;uch a di&s;advantageous exchange. Becau&s;e, &s;aid &s;he in my ear, 'tis not worth &s;o much as the Pitch. Then I pre|&s;ently conceiv'd there was &s;ome My&s;tery in the thing. 'Tis the &s;ame with this Rat: He would never be &s;o bold, had he not &s;ome rea|&s;on for it which we are ignorant of. For my part I amapt to believe there is Money hidden in his Hole.</P>
<P>The Monk no &s;ooner heard the Traveller talk of Mony, but he took a Hatchet, and &s;o be&s;tirr'd him&s;elf, that having cleft the Wall, he di&s;cover'd my Trea&s;ure, to the value of a thou&s;and Deniers in Gold, which I heap'd to|gether with great Labour and Toil. I told 'em every Day: I took delight to handle 'em, and tumble upon 'em, placing all my happine&s;s in that Exerci&s;e. Very good, &s;aid the Tra|veller, had I not rea&s;on to attribute the in&s;o|lency of tho&s;e Rats to &s;ome unknown cau&s;e?</P>
<P>I leave you to judge in what a de&s;perate Condition I was; when I &s;aw my Habitation ran&s;ack'd after that manner. Thereupon I re&s;olv'd to change my Lodging; but all my Companions left me; &s;o that I had a thorough experience of the Truth of the Proverb, <HI>No Mony, no</HI> Friend. Moreover, your Friends now a Days love us no longer, then our Friend|&s;hip turns to their advantage. One Day, a
<PB N="159" REF="88">wealthy and a witty Man was ask'd how ma|ny Friends he had? As for Friends a-l-a mode, &s;aid be, I have as many as I have Crowns: But as for real Friends I mu&s;t &s;tay till I come to be in want, and then I &s;hall know.</P>
<P>While I was pondering upon the accident that had befallen me, I &s;aw a Rat pa&s;s along, who had been &s;o much devoted to my &s;ervice, that you would have thought he could not have liv'd a moment out of my Company. I call'd to him, and ask'd him, why he &s;hun'd me like the re&s;t? Think'&s;t thou, &s;aid he, that we are &s;uch Fools to &s;erve thee for nothing? When thou wer't Rich we were thy Servants: Now that thou art Poor, we will not be the Companions of thy Poverty. Thou ought'&s;t not to de&s;pi&s;e the Poor, &s;aid I, becau&s;e they are the belov'd of God. 'Tis very true, an|&s;wer<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d he, but not &s;uch Poor as thou art. For God loves tho&s;e who have quitted the World, not tho&s;e whom the World has for&s;aken. I could not tell what to an&s;wer to that cutting Expre&s;&s;ion. However I &s;tay'd with the Monk, to &s;ee how he would di&s;po&s;e of the Mony which he had taken from me: And I ob&s;erv'd that he gave the one half to his Friend, and that each of 'em laid their &s;hares under their Pillows. Now I had a mind to go and regain this Mony: To which purpo&s;e I &s;tole &s;oftly to his Bed-&s;ide; but his Friend, who unper|ceiv'd by me ob&s;erv'd all my Actions, threw his Bed-&s;taff at me with &s;o good a Will, that he had almo&s;t broke my Foot, which oblig'd me to recover my Hole with all the &s;peed I could, tho' not without &s;ome difficulty. A|but an Hour after, I crept out again, believ|ing
<PB N="160" REF="89">the Traveller a&s;leep: But he was too di|ligent a Sentinel, afraid of loo&s;ing his good Fortune. However I pluck'd up a good heart, went forward, and was already got to the Monk's Beds-head, when my ra&s;hne&s;s had like to have co&s;t me my Life. For the Traveller gave me a &s;econd Blow upon the Head, that &s;tun'd me in &s;uch a manner, that I could hard|ly find my Hole again. At the &s;ame time al&s;o the Traveller threw his Bed-&s;taff at me a third time, but mi&s;&s;ing me, I recover'd my &s;anctu|ary, where I was no &s;ooner in &s;afety, but I prote&s;ted never more to pur&s;ue the Recovery of a thing, which had co&s;t me &s;o much pains and jeopardy. In pur&s;uance of this Re&s;olu|tion, I left the Mona&s;tery, and retir'd to that place where you &s;aw me with the Pigeon. The Tortoi&s;e was very well pleas'd with the recital of the Rats Adventures, and at the &s;ame time embracing him, you have done well, &s;aid &s;he, to quit the World and the intreagues of it, &s;ince they afford us no perfect &s;atisfacti|on. All tho&s;e who are turmoil'd with Avarice and Ambition, do but labour their own ruin, like the Cat, who&s;e Adventure you will not be di&s;pleas'd to hear.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="161" REF="89">
<HEAD>The Fable of the ravenous Cat.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Per&s;on bred up a Cat very frugal|ly in his own Hou&s;e: But the Cat, who was very ravenous, not contented with her ordinary Food, hunted about in every Cor|ner for more. One Day, pa&s;&s;ing by a Dove|hou&s;e, &s;he &s;aw &s;ome young Pigeons that were hardly fledg'd; and pre&s;ently her Teeth wa|ter'd for a ta&s;te of tho&s;e delicate Viands. With this Re&s;olution up &s;he mounted into the Dove|hou&s;e, never minding whether the Ma&s;ter were there or no; and was preparing to &s;atisfie her voluptuous De&s;ires. But the Ma&s;ter no &s;oon|er &s;aw the Epicure of a Cat enterd, but he &s;hut up the Doors, and &s;topt all the holes where &s;he might get out again, and &s;o be&s;tirr'd him|&s;elf, that he caught the felonious Pu&s;s, and hang'd her up at the corner of the Pigeon|hou&s;e. Soon after the owner of the Cat pa&s;|&s;ing that way, and &s;eeing his Cat hang'd, Un|fortunate Greedy-gut, &s;aid he, had&s;t thou been contented with thy meaner Food, thou had&s;t not been now in this Condition! Thus in|&s;atiable Gluttons are the procurers of their own untimely Ends. Be&s;ides, the Felicities of this World are uncertain and of no continuance. Wi&s;e Men &s;ay, there is no tru&s;t nor relyance upon &s;ix Things, nor any thing of fidelity to be expected from 'em.</P>
<P N="1">1. From a Cloud; for it di&s;per&s;es in an in|&s;tant.</P>
<P N="2">2. From feigned Friend&s;hip; for it pa&s;&s;es away like a Fla&s;h of Lightning.</P>
<P N="3"><PB N="162" REF="90">3. From a Woman's Love; for it changes upon every frivolous Fancy.</P>
<P N="4">4. From Beauty; for the lea&s;t injury of Time, Misfortune, or a Di&s;ea&s;e de&s;troys it.</P>
<P N="5">5. From fal&s;e Prayers; for they are but Smoak.</P>
<P N="6">6. From the Enjoyments of this World; for they vani&s;h in a Moment.</P>
<P>Men of Judgment, continued the Rat, ne|ver labour after the&s;e vain things: There is nothing b<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">t the acqui&s;ition of a real Friend can tempt 'em. Then the Raven, in his turn, There is nothing, &s;aid he, like a true and mutual Friend; which I &s;hall endeavour to prove by the recital of the following Sto|ry.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="163" REF="90">
<HEAD>The Fable of the two Friends.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Per&s;on heard one knocking at his Door at an un&s;ea&s;onable Hour. He ask'd who was there; and when he under&s;tood it was one of his be&s;t Friends, he ro&s;e and put on his Cloaths; and then ordering his Servant to light a Candle, he went and open'd the Door. So &s;oon as he &s;aw him, Dear Friend, &s;aid he, I cannot imagine your coming &s;o late to be for any other Rea&s;on, but either to bor|row Money, to de&s;ire me to be your Second, or becau&s;e you want Company to divert &s;ome &s;udden Melancholly. I am provided to &s;erve you in any of the&s;e three Reque&s;ts, conti|nued he: If you want Money my Pur&s;e is open; if you are to meet your Enemy, my Arm and Sword is at your Service; or if any amorous De&s;ire brings ye abroad, here is my Maid, hand&s;om enough to give you a civil Enter|tainment. In a word, what ever lies in my Power is at your Service. There is nothing I have le&s;s occa&s;ion for, an&s;wer'd his Friend, then what you proffer me. I only come to under&s;tand the condition of your Health, fear|ing the truth of an unlucky and di&s;a&s;trous Dream.</P>
<P>While the Raven was reciting this Fable, they beheld at a di&s;tance a little wild Goat ma|king towards 'em with an incredible &s;wiftne&s;s.</P>
<P>They thought &s;he had been pur&s;u<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">d by &s;ome Hunter; which made 'em &s;eparate: The Tor|toi&s;e &s;lipt into the Water; the Rat crept into his Hole; and the Raven hid him&s;elf among
<PB N="164" REF="91">the Boughs of a very high Tree. In the mean time the Goat &s;topt all of a &s;udden by the &s;ide of a Fountain; when the Ra|ven, who lookt about every way, perceiving no body, call'd to the Tortoi&s;e, who peep'd up above Water; and &s;eeing the Goat afraid to drink, Drink boldly, &s;aid the Tortoi&s;e, for the Water is very clear: Which the Goat ha|ving done, Pray tell me, cry'd the Tortoi&s;e, what is the rea&s;on you &s;eem to be in &s;uch a Fright. Rea&s;on enough, reply'd the Goat, for I have ju&s;t made my E&s;cape from the Hands of a Hunter who pur&s;u'd we with an eager Chace. Come, &s;aid the Tortoi&s;e, &s;tay here, and be one of our Friends, you will find our Conver&s;ation very beneficial. Wi&s;e Men &s;ay, that the number of Friends le&s;&s;ens Trouble; and that if a Man had a thou&s;and Friends, he ought to reckon them no more then one. On the other &s;ide, if a Man has but one Enemy, he ought to reckon that one for a thou&s;and; &s;o dangerous a thing an Enemy is. After this Di|&s;cour&s;e, the Raven and the Rat enter'd into Company with the Goat, and &s;hew'd her a thou|&s;and Civilities, with which &s;he was &s;o taken, that &s;he promis'd to &s;tay there as long as &s;he l<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter">v<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter">d.</P>
<P>Thus the&s;e four Friends &s;pent their time ve|ry plea&s;ingly together. But one Day that the Tortoi&s;e, the Rat, and the Raven were met as they us'd to do, by the &s;ide of the Fountain, the Goat was mi&s;&s;ing, which very much trou|bl'd 'em, not knowing what accident might have befallen her. Pre&s;ently the Raven mount|ed up into the Air, to &s;ee what di&s;coveries he could make, and looking round about him, at
<PB N="165" REF="91">length he perceiv'd the poor Goat entangl'd in a Hunter's Net. The&s;e ill Tydings extreme|ly afflicted all the three Friends. We mu&s;t find a way, &s;aid the Tortoi&s;e, to deliver the poor Goat out of Captivity. Then &s;aid the Raven to the Rat, there is none but you can &s;et our good Friend at liberty: And the bu&s;i|ne&s;s mu&s;t be quickly done, for fear the Hunts|man lay his Clutches upon her. I will do my endeavour, reply'd the Rat; and therefore let's go immediately, lea&s;t we lo&s;e time. Pre|&s;ently the Raven took up <HI>Zirac</HI> in his Bill, and carr'd him to the place; where being ar|riv'd, he fell without delay to gnawing the Mea&s;hes that held the Goat's Foot, and by that time the Tortoi&s;e arriv'd. So &s;oon as the Goat perceiv'd her, &s;he &s;ent forth a loud Cry, Oh! why have you ventur'd your &s;elf to come hither? Alas, reply'd the Tortoi&s;e, I could no longer endure your ab&s;ence. Dear Friend, &s;aid the Goat, your coming to this place, trou|bles me more then the lo&s;s of my Liberty. For if the Hunter &s;hould happen to come at this in|&s;tant, what will you do to make your E&s;cape? For my part I am almo&s;t unbound, and my &s;wift Heels will pre&s;erve me from falling into his Hands. The Raven will find his Safety in his Wings, the Rat will run into any hole. Only you that are &s;o &s;low of Foot will be come the Hunter's Prey.</P>
<P>No &s;ooner had the Goat &s;poken the words, but the Hunter appear'd. But then the Goat being unloos'd, ran away; the Raven mount|ed into the Sky, the Rat &s;lipt into a Hole, on|ly the &s;low-pac'd Tortoi&s;e remain'd without help.</P>
<PB N="166" REF="92">
<P>When the Hunter arriv'd, he was not a lit|tle &s;urpriz'd to &s;ee his Net broken, which was no &s;mall vexation to him, and made him look narrowly about, to &s;ee if he could di&s;cover who had done him the Injury, at what time he &s;py'd the Tortoi&s;e. Oh! &s;aid he, 'tis very well, I &s;han't go home empty handed; here's a plump Tortoi&s;e, and that's worth &s;omething I'm &s;ure. With that he took the Tortoi&s;e up, put it in his Sack, threw the Sack over his Shoulder, and &s;o was trudging home.</P>
<P>When he was gone, the three Friends met together, and miffing the Tortoi&s;e, they judg'd what was become of her. Then &s;ending forth a thou&s;and Sighs, they made mo&s;t doleful la|mentations, and &s;hed a torrent of Tears. But at length the Raven interrupting this &s;ad Har|mony, Dear Friends, &s;aid he, our Moans and Sorrows do the Tortoi&s;e no good, we mu&s;t think of a way to &s;ave her Life. The Sa|ges of the World in&s;truct us, that there are four &s;orts of Men, who are never known but upon four &s;orts of Occa&s;ions. Men of Courage in Fight; Men of Hone&s;ty in Bu&s;ine&s;s; a Woman in her Husband's Misfortunes; and a true Friend in extream Nece&s;&s;ity. We find our dear Friend the Tortoi&s;e is in a &s;ad Condition, and therefore we mu&s;t &s;uccour her. And now I think on't, &s;aid the Rat, an Expedient is come into my Head. Let the Goat go and &s;hew her &s;elf in the Hunter's Eye, who will then be &s;ure to lay down his Sack to run after her. Ve|ry well advis'd, reply'd the Goat, I will pre|tend to be lame, and run limping at a little di|&s;tance before him, which will encourage him tofollow me, and &s;o draw him a good way from
<PB N="167" REF="92">his Sack, which will give the Rat time to &s;et our Friend at liberty. This Stratagem was approv'd; The Goat ran halting before the Hunter, who &s;eem'd to be &s;o feeble and faint, that the Hunter thought he had her &s;afe in his Clutches: And &s;o laying down his Sack ran after the Goat with all his might, who &s;uffer'd him ever and anon to breathe, and then led him another Green-goo&s;e Cha&s;e, till &s;he had drag'd him quite out of &s;ight; which the Rat percei|ving, came and gnaw'd the String that ty'd the Sack, and let out the Tortoi&s;e, who went and hid her &s;elf in a thick Bu&s;h.</P>
<P>At length the Hunter tyr'd with running in vain after his Prey, return'd to his Sack, but mi&s;&s;ing the Tortoi&s;e, he was in amaze; and thought him&s;elf in a Region of Hobgoblins and Spirits. He could not but &s;tand and ble&s;s him|&s;elf, that a Goat &s;hould free her &s;elf out of his Nets, and by and by run hopping before him, and make a Fool of him; and that a Tor|toi&s;e, a poor feeble Creature, &s;hould break the String of a Sack, and make his E&s;cape. All the&s;e Con&s;iderations &s;truck him with &s;uch a panick Fear, that he fell a running home, as if a thou&s;and Robin-goodfellows or Raw-head and Bloody-bones had been at his Heels. After which the four Friends met together, and made n<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">w Prote&s;tations of Friend&s;hip, and &s;wore ne|ver to &s;eparate till Death parted 'em.</P>
</DIV3>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="168" REF="93">
<HEAD>CHAP. IV. <HI>That we ought always to di&s;tru&s;t our Ene|mies, and be perfectly inform'd of what ever pa&s;&s;es among 'em.</HI></HEAD>
<P>WE are now come, &s;aid <HI>Dab&s;chelim,</HI> to the fourth Chapter, which is to prove, That no Per&s;on of Judgment and Di&s;cretion ought to expect or hope for Friend&s;hip from his Enemies. Teach me then which way to avoid their Trea&s;ons. We ought, reply'd the Bramin, always to di&s;tru&s;t our Enemies; for when they make a &s;hew of Friend&s;hip, 'tis only to cover their evil De&s;igns: and whoever confides in an Enemy, will be de|ceiv'd like the Owl in the Fable which I am going to recite to your Maje&s;ty.</P>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="109" REF="93">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Crow and the Owl.</HEAD>
<P>IN the Province of <HI>China</HI> there is a Moun|tain who&s;e top a&s;pires above the Clouds: on the top of this Mountain &s;tood a Tree who&s;e Boughs &s;eem'd to reach Heaven, and were all laden with Ravens Ne&s;ts, who were all the Subjects of a King call'd <HI>Birouz.</HI> One Night the King of the Owls, who was call'd <HI>Cha|bahang,</HI> that is to &s;ay, <HI>Fly by Night,</HI> came at the head of his Army to plunder the Ravens Ne&s;ts, again&s;t whom they had an ancient ha|tred. The next Day <HI>Birouz</HI> cal'ld a Council to deliberate what means they &s;hould make u&s;e of to defend them&s;elves from the A&s;&s;aults of the Owls. Five of the able&s;t Politicians of his Court under&s;tanding his Maje&s;ty's Intenti|ons, gave their Advice one after another. Great Monarch, &s;aid the fir&s;t, who&s;e turn it was to &s;peak, we can think of nothing but what your Maje&s;ty has already thought of be|fore us. Neverthele&s;s, &s;ince 'tis your Plea&s;ure that we &s;hould &s;peak in order what we judge mo&s;t expedient to revenge our &s;elves upon the Owls, I &s;hall tell you Sir, what Politicians have always held for a Maxim, That no Prince ought ever to attack an Enemy &s;trong|er then him&s;elf: To do otherwi&s;e, is to build upon the Current of a Torrent. Sir, &s;aid the &s;econd, Flight becomes none but mean and cowardly Souls: 'Tis more noble to take Arms and revenge the A&s;&s;ront we have re|receiv'd. A Prince &s;hall never be at re&s;t, if he does not carry Terror into the Country
<PB N="170" REF="94">and Soul of his Enemy. The third coming to give his Opinion; I do not blame, &s;aid he, the Coun&s;el of my Brethren, nor do I approve it. My Advice is, That your Maje&s;ty &s;end Spies to di&s;cover the Strength and Condition of the Enemy; and upon their Reports, let us make War or Peace: This is the way to live in quiet. It is the Duty of a King to pre&s;erve Peace in his own Kingdom, as well for the repo&s;e of his own Mind as for the ea&s;e of his Subjects. War is never to be declar'd but again&s;t tho&s;e that di&s;turb the public Tran|quility: And if the Enemy be too powerful, we mu&s;t have recour&s;e to Artifice and Stra|tagem, and make u&s;e of all Opportunities that pre&s;ent them&s;elves to vanqui&s;h him by Cun|ning and Policy. Then the fourth laid be|fore the King, That it was better for a Prince to quit his Country, then to expo&s;e a People to lo&s;e the Reputation of their Arms, who had always been victorious over their Enemies. That it would be a &s;hame for the Ravens to &s;ubmit them&s;elves to the Owls, who had all along been under their Subje|ction. That it was requi&s;ite to penetrate their De&s;igns, and re&s;olve rather to Fight, then undergo an ignominious Yoak; &s;ince lo&s;s of Life was le&s;s to be valu'd then lo&s;s of Reputation.</P>
<P>The King, after he had heard the&s;e four Mini&s;ters, made a Signal to the fifth to &s;peak in his turn. This Vi&s;ir, or Mini&s;ter, was call'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> or <HI>I<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">te<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">g<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nt.</HI> The King there|fore, who had a particular Confidence in him, de&s;ir'd him to tell him fincerely what he thought was be&s;t to be done in this Affair.
<PB N="171" REF="94">Shall we declare War, or propound Peace, or abandon our Country? Sir, reply'd <HI>Car|chenas,</HI> &s;ince you order me to &s;peak with free|dom, my Opinion is, That we ought not to at|tack the Owls, becau&s;e they are more nume|rous then we are. We mu&s;t make u&s;e of Prudence, a Virtue that has frequently a greater &s;hare in great Succe&s;&s;es then either Strength or Riches. But before your Maje&s;ty take your final Re&s;olution, con&s;ult your Mini&s;ters once more; their Coun&s;els may a&s;&s;i&s;t you to bring about your De&s;igns with Succe&s;s: Great Rivers are &s;well'd by many Rivulets. For my part, I neither love War nor Trouble; yet I am not for ba&s;e and da&s;tardly &s;ubmi&s;|&s;ion. 'Tis not for Men of Honour to de&s;ire long Life, but only that they may leave to Po&s;terity Examples of Virtue worthy of ad|miration: Nor ought we to take care of our Lives, but to expo&s;e 'em upon occa&s;ion where Honour calls us: 'Tis better never to have been, then to live ob&s;curely. Therefore my Advice is, That your Maje&s;ty &s;hew not the lea&s;t Fear in this Conjecture; but that you take your Re&s;olutions in private, that your Enemies may not penetrate your De&s;igns.</P>
<P>Here one of the other Mini&s;ters interrup|ting <HI>Carchenas,</HI> How! &s;aid he, what d'ye mean by that? wherefore are Coun&s;els held, but to debate among &s;everal? and wherefore would you have an Affair of this Con&s;equence be debated in a private Cabal? Affairs of Prin|ces, reply'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> are not like tho&s;e of Merchants, which are to be communicated to <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="left margin cropped or obscured" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1+ letters">he whole Society. The Secrets of Kings cannot be di&s;cover'd but by their Coun&s;el|lours,
<PB N="172" REF="95">or their Emba&s;&s;adors. Who knows but there may be Spies in this very place who hear us, with an intent to di&s;clo&s;e our Re&s;olu|tions to our Enemies, who upon their Repor will prevent our Enter pri&s;es, or at lea&s;t di&s;ort der our Determinations? Wi&s;e Men &s;ay, That if you will have a Secret, keep the Secret; otherwi&s;e you will run the hazard of being be|tray'd, as was the King of <HI>Quechemir.</HI> Where|upon <HI>Birouz,</HI> who was very curious, com|manded <HI>Carchenas</HI> to tell him the Adven|ture.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fbale of a King and his Mi&s;tre&s;s.</HEAD>
<P>IN the City of <HI>Quechemir,</HI> there reign'd a King in former Days, no le&s;s ju&s;t then powerful. This Prince had a Mi&s;tre&s;s &s;o &s;ur|pa&s;&s;ingly beautiful, that all Per&s;ons that be|held her fell in love with her. The King him&s;elf doated on her to that degree, that he would never be out of her Company: But &s;he was far from loving the King &s;o dear|ly as &s;he was belov'd by him. The A&s;&s;e|ction of the King flatter'd her Vanity, but never touch'd her Heart; which being always made however to harbour &s;ome particular A|mour or other, &s;he &s;u&s;&s;er'd her &s;elf to be pre|po&s;&s;e&s;s'd with a violent Pa&s;&s;ion for a Page, who was hand&s;om and duly proportion'd e|ven to admiration. She &s;oon inform'd him by her Glances what Sentiments the had for him, and the egling Youth as &s;oon in&s;tructed
<PB N="173" REF="95">her that &s;he could not apply her &s;elf to a young Spark that was more inclin'd to make his Advantage of &s;o fair a Fortune. In &s;hort, there wanted nothing but an Opportunity to parly together in private, for the &s;atisfacti|on of tho&s;e De&s;ires which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nflam'd them.</P>
<P>One Day that the King was &s;itting with his Mi&s;tre&s;s, and gazing on her with De|light, the Page who was &s;tanding in the &s;ame Chamber, ca&s;t his Eyes from time to time upon the charming Lady, while &s;he on the other &s;ide fix'd hers upon the Page, with an Aire &s;o pa&s;&s;ionate, that the King perceiv'd it. He under&s;tood too well that &s;ilent Lan|guage, and was &s;o enrag'd with jealou&s;ie and de&s;pite, that he re&s;olv'd to put 'em both to Death. However di&s;&s;embling his de&s;ign, be|cau&s;e he would not Act with too much precipi|tation, he re-enter'd his Apartment, where he &s;pent the Night in amu&s;ement and di&s;quiet. The next Morning, he heard the complaints of his Subjects, and after he had given &s;atis|faction to his People, he enter'd into his Cabi|net. Thither he &s;ent for his chief Mini&s;ter, and di&s;cover'd to him his de&s;ign to Poi&s;on his Mi&s;tre&s;s and the Page. The Vi&s;ir, having heard his rea&s;ons, approv'd 'em, promis'd to keep the &s;ecrer, and went home; where finding his Daughter extreamly pen&s;ive, he ask'd the Rea&s;on. Father, &s;aid &s;he, the Kings Mignon has abus'd me without a cau&s;e; this troubles me: And I'll a&s;&s;ure you if I do not revenge my &s;elf, 'tis not for want of good Will. Comfort your &s;elf, reply'd the Mi|ni&s;ter, you &s;hall be deliver'd from the Pain.</P>
<PB N="174" REF="96">
<P>Now as Women are very Curious, the Daughter pre&s;s'd her Father to know after what manner &s;he &s;hould be reveng'd of her Enemy; and he was &s;o weak as to reveal to her the Kings de&s;ign; 'tis true, &s;he &s;wore not to di&s;cover it to any living Soul: But an hour or two after, the Kings Mi&s;tre&s;s's Eunuch coming to vi&s;it the Mini&s;ter's Daughter, with an intention to comfort her, and extenuate the affront &s;he had receiv'd, and to that purpo&s;e telling her, that we ought to bear with our Neighbours faults, Ay, ay, &s;aid the Lady, in|terrupting him with a di&s;dainful &s;mile, let her alone, &s;he has not long to play her proud Pranks. Upon which the Eunuch pre&s;s'd her &s;o earne&s;tly to explain her meaning, that &s;he could hold no longer, but told him every word that her Father had &s;aid to her, after &s;he had made him al&s;o &s;wear, that he would invi|olably keep the Secret. But the Eunuch had no &s;ooner left her, but believing him&s;elf much more oblig'd to break then to keep his Oath, he went to the Kings Mi&s;tre&s;s, and reveal'd to her the violent Re&s;olution which the King had taken. There needed no more to incen&s;e the Lady, to try all ways to prevent him. She &s;ent away privately for the Page, with whom &s;he took &s;uch exact mea&s;ures, that the King was found the next Morning dead in his Bed.</P>
<P>You &s;ee by this Story, continued <HI>Carchenas,</HI> that Princes are not to di&s;cover their Secrets to any, but &s;uch of who&s;e Di&s;cretion and Fideli|ty they have con&s;tant and a&s;&s;ured Proofs. But what Secrets, &s;aid <HI>Birouz,</HI> are tho&s;e which it mo&s;t concerns us to conceal? Sir, an&s;wer'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> there are &s;ome Secrets of &s;uch a
<PB N="175" REF="96">Nature, that Princes are not to entru&s;t any Bo|dy but them&s;elves with 'em; that is to &s;ay, to keep 'em &s;o conceal'd, that no body may be able to di&s;cover 'em. Others there are that may be communicated to faithful Mini&s;ters, for their Advice and Coun&s;el.</P>
<P><HI>Birouz</HI> finding that <HI>Carchenas</HI> &s;poke nothing but rea&s;on, &s;hut him&s;elf up with him in his Cabinet, and before he di&s;cours'd any farther concerning the Bu&s;ine&s;s in Que&s;tion, he de&s;ir'd him to tell him the fatal Original of the deadly hatred between the Ravens and the Owls. Sir, an&s;wer'd <HI>Carthenas,</HI> one word produc'd that cruel Animo&s;ity, the terrible Effects of which you have &s;o oft Experienc'd.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="176" REF="97">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Original of the hatred be|tween the Ravens and the Owls.</HEAD>
<P>UPon a certain Day a flight of Birds a&s;&s;em|bl'd to chu&s;e them&s;elves a King, and e|very different Species pretended to the Crown. At length, there were &s;everal that gave their Voices for the Owl, becau&s;e <HI>Minerva</HI> the Godde&s;s of Wi&s;dom had made choice of the Owl for her peculiar Bird. But others un|willing to obey &s;o deformed a Creature, the Diet broke up, and they fell one upon another, with &s;o much fury, that &s;everal were &s;lain. The fight would have la&s;ted longer, had not a cer|tain Bird, in order to part 'em, bethought him|&s;elf of crying out to the Combatants, no more civil Wars, here's a Raven coming, let him be your Judge and Arbitrator: He s a Per&s;on of Judgment, and who&s;e Years have gain'd him great Experience. All the Birds unani|mou&s;ly con&s;ented, and when the Raven arriv'd, and had inform'd him&s;elf of the occa&s;ion of the Quarrel, he thus deliver'd him&s;elf. Are you &s;uch Fools and Mad-men, Gentlemen, &s;aid he, to chu&s;e for your King a Bird, that draws af|ter him nothing but misfortune? Will you &s;et up a Fly in the room of a Griffin? Why d'you not rather make choice of a Falcon who has both Courage and Agility, or el&s;e a Pea-cock, who treads with a Maje&s;tic Gate? Why do you not rather rai&s;e an Eagle to the Throne, who is the Emblem of Royalty; or la&s;tly a Griffin, who by the only motion and the noi&s;e of his Wings makes the Muntains
<PB N="177" REF="97">tremble. But tho' there were no &s;uch Birds as the&s;e, which I have nam'd in the World, it were better for you to live without a King, then &s;ubject your &s;elves to &s;uch a horrid Crea|ture as an Owl; For be&s;ides that he has the Phy&s;iognomy of a Cat, he has no Wit<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> and which is in&s;upportable, that notwith&s;tanding he is &s;o abominably ugly, he is as p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">d as a Par&s;on's Wife: And that which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">g<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">o ren|der him yet more de&s;picable in your Ey<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s this, that he hates the Light of that magnificent Body, that enlivens all Nature. Therefore Gentlemen, lay a &s;ide a de&s;ign &s;o prejudic<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">al to your Honour, and proceed to the Election of another King, and do nothing to repent of afterwards. Chu&s;e a King that may comfort you in your Di&s;tre&s;&s;es; remember the Rabbet, who calling him&s;elf the Moons Emba&s;&s;adour, expell'd the Elephants out of their Coun|try.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="178" REF="98">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Elephants and the Rabbets.</HEAD>
<P>THere happen'd a dry Year in the Elephants Country, call'd the <HI>I&s;les of Rad,</HI> or of the <HI>Wind,</HI> in&s;omuch, that pre&s;s'd by Drowth, and not being able to come at any Water, they addre&s;s'd them&s;elves to their King, be&s;eeching him to apply &s;ome remedy to their Mi&s;ery, that they might not peri&s;h; upon which the King commanded diligent &s;earch to be made in all Places, and at length di&s;cover'd a Spring of Water, to which the Ancients had given the Name of <HI>Cha&s;chmamah,</HI> the Fountain of the Moon. Upon this Di&s;covery, the King came and encamp'd with his whole Army in the parts adjoyning to this Fountain. But the coming of the Elephants ruin'd a great Num|ber of Rabbets that had a Warren in the &s;ame Place, becau&s;e the Elephants every &s;tep they took trod down their Burroughs, and kill'd the poor Conies.</P>
<P>One Day the Rabbets a&s;&s;embl'd together, went to the King, and be&s;ought him to deliver 'em from that Oppre&s;&s;ion. I know very well, an&s;wer'd the King, that I &s;it upon the Throne for the welfare and ea&s;e of my &s;ubjects; but you ask me a thing that &s;urpa&s;&s;es my &s;trength. However con&s;ult among your &s;elves, and if you can find out an expedient, I will do what lies in my Power to bring it to perfection. Upon which one Rabbet more cunning then the re&s;t, perceiving the King at a lo&s;s, yet ve|ry much mov'd with the Affliction of his Peo|ple,
<PB N="179" REF="98">&s;tept before his Companions, and ad|dre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to the King, Sir, &s;aid he, your Maje&s;ty Acts like a ju&s;t Prince, while the care of our Tranquillity di&s;turbs your re&s;t; and while you afford us the freedom to give our Advice, it makes me bold to impart to your Maje&s;ty an invention lately come into my Head, to expel the Elephants out of this Country. Sir, continu'd the Rabbet, per|mit me that I may go with the Character of your Emba&s;&s;adour to the King of the Ele|phants; and I am willing, that your Maje&s;ty &s;hould appoint me a Companion of all that pa&s;&s;es in my Emba&s;&s;ie.</P>
<P>No, reply'd the King very obligingly, I will have no Spies upon thy Actions; for I believe thee faithful: go in the name of Hea|ven, and do what thou &s;halt deem mo&s;t con|venient, only remember that an Emba&s;&s;adour is the Kings Tongue: His di&s;cour&s;es ought to be well weigh'd, and his words and his Be|haviour Noble and Lofty, while he repre&s;ents the Per&s;on of his Prince. The mo&s;t learned Men in the Kingdom ought to be made choice of for Emba&s;&s;adours. I have heard that one of the greate&s;t Monarchs in the World, was wont frequently to di&s;gui&s;e him&s;elf, and became his own Emba&s;&s;adour. And indeed, for the di&s;|charge of that Employment the&s;e Qualities are required, Re&s;olution, Eloquence, and a va&s;t extent of natural Parts. A violent Spirit is not for that Employment. Several Emba&s;&s;a|dours with a ra&s;h word have created trouble in a Kingdom: And others with a mild and a|greeable Saying have re-united irreconcileable Enemies. Sir, &s;aid the Rabbet, if I am not en|dow'd
<PB N="180" REF="99">with all the&s;e good Qualities your Ma|je&s;ty has enumerated, I will endeavour to learn 'em.</P>
<P>Having &s;o &s;aid, he took his leave of the King, and went to the Elephants. But before he arriv'd there, he bethought him&s;elf, that if he went among 'em, he might be trod to Pieces. For which rea&s;on he got upon a high Tree, from whence he call'd to the King of the Ele|phants, who was not far off; I am, &s;aid he, the Moon's Emba&s;&s;adour, hear what I have to &s;ay to you in her Name. You know that the Moon is a Godde&s;s who&s;e Power is unli|mited, and that above all things &s;he hates a Lie.</P>
<P>The King of the Elephants was terribly frighted, when he heard the Rabbet talk at that rate, and de&s;ir'd to know the Subject of his Emba&s;&s;ie. The Moon, reply'd the Rab|bet has &s;ent me hither, to let you under&s;tand, that whoever is puft up with his own gran|dure, and de&s;pi&s;es her little ones, de&s;erves death; you are not only contented to oppre&s;s the little ones, but you have the in&s;olence to trouble a Fountain con&s;ecrated to her Deity, where every thing is pure. I admoni&s;h you to reform your Manners, el&s;e you will be &s;everely puni&s;h'd. If you will not give credit to my words, come and &s;ee the Moon in her own Fountain, and then retire.</P>
<P>The King of the Elephants &s;tood a&s;toni&s;h'd at the&s;e Raptures, and went to the Fountain, wherein he &s;aw the Moon indeed, becau&s;e the Water was clear. Then &s;aid the Rabbet to the Elephant, take of the Water to wa&s;h your &s;elf, and pay your Adorations. The Ele|phant took &s;ome of the Water, but all-to-be
<PB N="181" REF="99">pudled the Fountain with his <HI>Probo&s;cis;</HI> at which the Rabbet, Infidel, &s;aid he, you have prophan'd the Fountain with your unhallow'd Ivory, and therefore the Godde&s;s is gone a|way in a huff. Retire with &s;peed from hence with your whole Army, le&s;t &s;ome dreadful Misfortune befall you. This threatning Lan|guage put the King of the Elephants into a trembling Fit, and terrify'd him to that degree, that he pre&s;ently commanded his Army to de|camp: And thus the Rabbets were deliver'd from their Enemies by the Policy of one of their Society.</P>
<P>I had not recited this Example, continu'd the Raven, but to in&s;truct you, that you ought to make choice of a Prudent and Politick Prince, who may be able to a&s;&s;i&s;t you in your Adver&s;ities, and not of Owls that have nei|ther courage nor Wit. They have nothing in 'em but Malice, which will be no le&s;s fatal to you, then the Cat was to the Partridge, who de&s;ir'd him to decide a difference which &s;he had with another Bird.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="182" REF="100">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Cat and the Partridge.</HEAD>
<P>SOme Years ago, continu'd the Raven, I made my Ne&s;t upon a Tree, at the foot of which there &s;ate a Partridge, well &s;hap'd and good humour'd. We made a league of Friend&s;hip together, and frequently kept one another Company. Some time after &s;he ab&s;ented her &s;elf, for what rea&s;on I know not, and &s;tay'd away &s;o long, that I thought her dead; neverthele&s;s &s;he return'd, but found her Habitation in Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of ano|ther Bird. The Partridge pretended the Hou&s;e was hers, and would have made a for|cible Entry, but the Bird refus'd to go out, al|ledging that Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion was nine Points of the Law, and I endeavour'd to bring 'em to an Accommodation, but all to no purpo&s;e; for the Partridges Atterney, finding &s;he had Money, egg'd her on, and tickl'd her Ears with a Lea&s;e of Ejectment. However at length the Par|tridge finding the Law to be very expen&s;ive, quoth &s;he to her &s;elf, here lives hard by a ve|ry devout Cat, &s;he fa&s;ts every Day, &s;he does no body harm, and &s;pends the Nights in Pray|or, let us, &s;aid &s;he to her Adver&s;ary, refer our difference to her: I know not where we &s;hall find a more equitable Judge. The other Bird having con&s;ented to this Propo&s;al, they went both to this Religious Cat, and I follow'd 'em out of Curio&s;ity. Entring in, I &s;aw the Cat very attentive at a long Prayer, without turning either to the right or left, which put me in mind of the old Proverb. <HI>That leng Pray|ers
<PB N="183" REF="100">before People is the Key of Hell.</HI> I admir'd that Hyprocri&s;ie; and had the Patience to &s;tay till the venerable Per&s;onage had done. After which the Partridge and his Antagoni&s;t ac|co&s;ted him with great re&s;pect, and reque&s;ted him to hear their difference, and give Judg|ment according to the u&s;ual Rules of Ju&s;tice. The Cat in his Furr-gown acting the Part of Grave and Formal, heard what the Bird had to plead for it &s;elf, and then addre&s;&s;ing him|&s;elf to the Partridge, my Pretty love &s;aid he, I am Old and thick of hearing, pray come near and lift up your Voice, that I may not lo&s;e a word of what you have to &s;ay. Thereupon the Partridge and the other Bird, &s;eeing him &s;o Devout, went boldly clo&s;e up to him: But then the Hypocrite fell upon 'em, and devour'd 'em both.</P>
<P>Thus you &s;ee deceitful People are never to be tru&s;ted: And my con&s;equence is, have you care of the Owl, who is no better then the Cat. The Birds convinc'd that the Raven &s;poke nothing but what was rea&s;on, never minded the Owl any more. Upon which the Owl went home, meditating how to be reveng'd upon the Raven, again&s;t whom he conceiv'd &s;uch a mortal Hatred, that time could never extingui&s;h.</P>
<P>This Sir, proceeded <HI>Carchenas,</HI> is the true Rea&s;on of the perpetual Enmity between us and the Owls. Now &s;aid the King of the Ravens, let us con&s;ider what mea&s;ures we mu&s;t take to repair the affront I have receiv'd. To which <HI>Carchenas,</HI> after he had given the King his due Applau&s;es, Sir, &s;aid he, I am not of the &s;ame Opinion with your other Mini&s;ters,
<PB N="184" REF="101">who advi&s;e either W<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="3 letters">, or Flight, or an igno|minious Peace. W<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="4 letters">&s;t follow the Maxim; when we want &s;trength, we mu&s;t into recour&s;e to Artifice and Stratagem, and endeavour to deceive the Enemy, by feigning one thing and doing another; as you may &s;ee by the follow|ing Example.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Derwiche and the four Robbers.</HEAD>
<P>A Derwiche had purchas'd a fat Weather, on purpo&s;e to offer it up in Sacrifice, and having ty'd a Cord about the Neck of it, was leading it to his Mona&s;tery. Four Thieves that perceiv'd him had a great mind to this Wea|ther; but they dur&s;t not take it away from the Derwiche by force, becau&s;e they were too near the City; and therefore they made u&s;e of this Stratagem. They fir&s;t parted Compa|ny, and then acco&s;ted the Derwiche, whom they knew to be a Jack Adams, as if they had come from &s;everal di&s;tinct Parts. &s;aid the fir&s;t of 'em, Father, whither are you leading this Dog? The &s;econd coming from another Quarter, cry'd to him, Venerable old Gentle|man, you have &s;toln this Dog: And at length the third coming to the Derwiche, and asking him, whether he would go a Hunting with his hand&s;om Grey-hound? the poor Monk began to doubt whether the Weather which he had were a Weather or no. But the fourth Robber put him quite be&s;ide him&s;elf, &s;aying to him,
<PB N="185" REF="101">Pray Reverend Father, what did this Dog co&s;t you? The Derwiche ab&s;olutely per&s;uaded, that four Men, coming from four &s;everal Pla|ces, could no be deceiv'd, verily believ'd that the Gra&s;ier who had &s;old him the Weather was a Conjurer who had bewitcht his &s;ight; in&s;omuch that no longer giving Credit to his own Eyes, he began to be firmly convinc'd that the Weather was a Dog; and immediat|ly went back to the Market to demand his Money of the Gra&s;ier, leaving the Weather with the Felons, who carry'd it away.</P>
<P>Sir, &s;aid <HI>Carchenas,</HI> your Maje&s;ty &s;ees by this Example, that what cannot be done by force, mu&s;t be atchiev'd by Policy. But, &s;aid the King, interrupting him, what invention &s;hall we make u&s;e of to revenge our &s;elves of the Owls? Rely upon me, reply'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> to take care of your Maje&s;ties Revenge. Only order my Feathers to be pull'd off, and leave me all over bloody under this Tree. 'Twas no &s;mall grief to <HI>Birouz</HI> to give out &s;uch a cruel Order; however the thing was done, and the King march'd with his Army, to wait for <HI>Car|chenas</HI> in &s;uch a place as the Vi&s;ir had appointed him.</P>
<P>In the mean time Night came, and the Owls puft up with the Victory which they had obtain'd the Night before, return'd to com|pleat the De&s;truction of the Ravens. But they were amaz'd when they mi&s;s'd the Ene|my, which they intended to have &s;urpriz'd. They &s;ought for him every where, at what time they heard a Voice of grievous Lamentation; which was the Voice of <HI>Carchenas</HI> who was howling at the foot of a Tree. The King of
<PB N="186" REF="102">the Owls approach'd him, and examin'd him concerning his Birth and Employment he had in <HI>Birouz</HI> s Court? Alas, reply'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> the condition wherein you &s;ee me &s;ufficiently &s;hews you my inability to give you the Ac|count which you demand. What Crime did you commit, reply'd <HI>Chabahang,</HI> to de&s;erve this hard U&s;age? The wicked Ravens reply'd <HI>Carchenas,</HI> upon a &s;light &s;u&s;picion have us'd me thus. After the defeat of our Army, King <HI>Bi|rouz</HI> call'd a Council, to &s;eek out ways to be reveng'd of &s;o Bloody an Affront. After he had heard the various Opinions of &s;ome of his Mini&s;ters, he commanded me to &s;peak mine: At what time I lay'd before him, that you were not only Superiour in Number, but bet|ter Di&s;ciplin'd, and more Valiant then we were; and by con&s;equence that it was ne|ce&s;&s;ary for us to de&s;ire Peace, and to accept of whatever Conditions you would grant us. This &s;o incens'd the King again&s;t me, that in a violent Pa&s;&s;ion, Traytour, cry'd he, this is the way to infu&s;e into my Army a fear of the Enemy, by exalting their Strength, and le&s;&s;en|ing mine: And with that, believing that I was meditating to &s;eek my Peace with your Maje&s;ty, he commanded that I &s;hould be us'd as you &s;ee.</P>
<P>After <HI>Carchenas</HI> had done &s;peaking, the King of Owls ask'd his chief Mini&s;ter what was to be done with <HI>Carchenas.</HI> The only way, Sir, an&s;wer'd the Mini&s;ter, is to put him out of his pain and knock him o'the Head; never to tru&s;t his fair words; for I don't believe a word he &s;ays. Remember the old Proverb Sir, <HI>The more Dead, the fewer Ene|mies.</HI>
<PB N="187" REF="102">To this <HI>Carchenas</HI> in a lamentable tone, I be&s;eech you Sir, &s;aid he, add not to my Affliction by your threating Language.</P>
<P>The King of the Owls, who could not chu&s;e but compa&s;&s;ionate <HI>Carchenas,</HI> bid the &s;econd Mini&s;ter &s;peak; who was not of the fir&s;t Vi&s;ir's opinion. Sir, &s;aid he, I would not advi&s;e your Maje&s;ty to put this Per&s;on to Death. Kings ought to a&s;&s;i&s;t the Weak, and &s;uccour tho&s;e that throw them&s;elves into their Protection. Be&s;ides, continu'd he, &s;ome|times there may be great Advantage made of an Enemies &s;ervice, according to the Story of the Merchant which I &s;hall relate to your Maje&s;ty.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="188" REF="103">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Merchant, his Wife, and the Robber.</HEAD>
<P>A Certain Merchant, very Rich, but home|ly, and very deformed in his Per&s;on, had marry'd a very fair and virtuous Wife. He lov'd her pa&s;&s;ionately: On th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> other &s;ide &s;he hated him; in&s;omuch that not being able to endure him, &s;he lay in a Bed apart by her &s;elf in the &s;ame Chamber.</P>
<P>One Night, a Thief broke into the Hou&s;e, and came into the Chamber when the Hus|band was a&s;leep; but the Wi&s;e being awake, and perceiving the Thief, was in &s;uch a ter|rible Fright, that &s;he ran to her Husband, and held him fa&s;t in her Arms. The Husband waking, was tran&s;ported with joy, to &s;ee the delight of his Life cla&s;ping him in her embra|ces. Ble&s;s me! cry'd he, to whom am I be|holding for this extraordinary Happine&s;s: I wi&s;h I knew the Per&s;on, that I might return him Thanks. Hardly had he utter'd the words when the Thief appear'd, Oh, cry'd the Merchant, the mo&s;t welcome Per&s;on in the World: Take what ever thou think&s;t fitting, I cannot reward thee &s;ufficiently for the good &s;ervice thou ha&s;t done me.</P>
<P>By this Example you &s;ee that our Enemies may &s;ometimes be &s;erviceable to us, in obtain|ing tho&s;e things which we have &s;ought in vain to enjoy by the help of our Friends. So that in regard this Raven may prove beneficial to us, we ought to pre&s;erve his Life.</P>
<PB N="189" REF="103">
<P>Then the King ask'd a third Mini&s;ter, who delivering his Opinion, Sir, &s;aid he, You ought to be &s;o far from putting this Raven to Death, that you ought to care&s;s him, and engage him by your favours to do &s;ome important &s;ervice. Wi&s;e Men always endea|vour to oblige &s;ome of their Enemies, in or|der to &s;et up a Faction again&s;t the re&s;t, and then make advantage of their Divi&s;ions. The Quarrel which the Derwiche had with the Thief was the rea&s;on that neither the one nor the other could hurt a very vertu|ous Derwiche; according to the en&s;uing Fable.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Derwiche, the Thief, and the Devil.</HEAD>
<P>IN the Parts adjoyning to <HI>Babylon,</HI> there was in former times a Derwiche, who liv'd like a true Servant of God. He &s;ub&s;i&s;ted only upon &s;uch Alms as he receiv'd, and as for o|ther things he gave him&s;elf up wholy to Provi|dence, without troubling him&s;elf with the in|treagues of this World.</P>
<P>One day, one of his Friends &s;ent him a fat Ox; which a Thief &s;eeing as it was led to his lodging, re&s;olv'd to have it what ever it co&s;t him. Going to the Convent, he met the Devil in the &s;hape of a Man. He ask'd him who he was, and whither he was going. To whom the Devil made an&s;wer, I am the Devil, who have taken human &s;hape upon
<PB N="190" REF="104">me, and I am going to this Mona&s;tery, to kill the Derwiche that lives there; becau&s;e his example does me a world of Mi&s;chief, by making &s;everal wicked People turn hon|e&s;t and good Men: And therefore I intend to Murder him, becau&s;e my Temptations have hitherto prov'd u&s;ele&s;s. I, an&s;wer'd the Thief, am a notorious Robber, and I am going to the &s;ame Mona&s;tery to &s;teal a fat Ox that was given to the Derwiche that you de|&s;ign to kill. I am glad, quoth the Devil, that we are both of the &s;ame Humour, and that we both of us de&s;ign to do the Monk a Mi&s;|chief.</P>
<P>In the mid&s;t of this Di&s;cour&s;e they came both to the Convent: Night was already well advanc'd; the Derwiche had &s;aid his u&s;ual Prayers, and was gone to Bed. And now the Thief and the Devil were both preparing to put their de&s;ign in Execution, when the Thief &s;aid to him&s;elf, the Devil in going to kill him, will make the Monk cry out, and rai&s;e the Neighbourhood: Which will hinder me from &s;tealing the Ox. The Devil on the other &s;ide rea&s;on'd with him&s;elf after this manner. If the Thief goes to &s;teal the Ox, before I have exe|cuted my de&s;ign, the noi&s;e he will make in breaking open the Door will waken the Der|wiche to &s;tand upon his Guard. Therefore &s;aid the Devil to the Thief, let me fir&s;t kill the Derwiche, and then thou may'&s;t &s;teal the Ox at thy own lei&s;ure; no, &s;aid the Thief, the better way will be for you to &s;tay till I have &s;tole the Ox, and then do you Murder the Monk. But both refu&s;ing to give way the one to the other, they quarrell'd fir&s;t, and from
<PB N="191" REF="104">words they fell to down-right fi&s;ty Cuffs. At which &s;port the Devil proving the &s;tronger of the two, the Thief call'd out to the Der|wiche, ri&s;e Monk, Ri&s;e, here's the Devil come to Murder you. On the other &s;ide the Devil perceiving him&s;elf di&s;cover'd, cry'd out, Thieves, Thieves, look to your Ox, Monk. Pre&s;ently, the Monk waking at the noi&s;e, call'd in the Neighbours, which con&s;train'd the Thief and the Devil to betake them&s;elves to their Heels: And thus the Derwiche &s;av'd both his Life and his Ox.</P>
<P>The chief Mini&s;ter having heard this Fable, falling into a very great Pa&s;&s;ion, &s;aid he to the King, I find you will &s;uffer your &s;elf to be deceiv'd by this Raven, as the Joyner was deceiv'd by his Wife. Tell me that Story, &s;aid <HI>Cabahang.</HI></P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="193" REF="105">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Joyner and his Wife.</HEAD>
<P>SIR, reply'd the Mini&s;ter, in the City of <HI>Sarandib,</HI> there liv'd a Joyner, who was very skilful in his Art, and the Husband of a Wife &s;o beautiful that the Sun &s;eem'd to borrow his Brightne&s;s from her eyes. She was &s;o pa&s;&s;ionately belov'd by her Husband, that he was almo&s;t out of his Wits, when he was con&s;train'd to be ab&s;ent from her. This Wo|man was &s;o crafty, that &s;he had found a way to make her Husband believe that &s;he lov'd him as dearly, tho' &s;he had &s;everal Gallants that were not unacceptable to her. Among the re&s;t there was a Neighbour of hers, a young Man well &s;hap'd, who had wone her affection to that degree, that &s;he began to care for none of the re&s;t. Upon which they became &s;o jea|lous of him, that they gave the Joyner notice of his familiarity with his Wife. But the hone&s;t Husband was unwilling to believe any thing, unle&s;s he were well a&s;&s;ur'd; and therefore that he might be certain of a Truth which he was afraid to know, he pretended that he was to go a &s;mall Journey: And taking &s;ome provi&s;i|ons with him, he told his Wife, that 'twas true he &s;hould not go very far, but his bu&s;ine&s;s would keep him out two or three Days; which was a great trouble to him to want her Compa|ny &s;o long. His wi&s;e pay'd him in the &s;ame Coin, bemoaning the tediou&s;ne&s;s of his Ab|&s;ence, and &s;hedding an <HI>April</HI> &s;hower of Tears <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> for joy then grief. How ever &s;he got <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> ready for her Husband's departure,
<PB N="193" REF="105">who, the better to di&s;&s;emble the matter, bid her be &s;ure to keep the Doors fa&s;t, for fear of Thieves. She, on the other &s;ide, promis'd to be very careful of every thing, and &s;till put her Finger in her Eye for grief that he was to leave her. But her Husbands back was no &s;ooner turn'd, but &s;he gave notice to her Gallant to come to her, who kept his time to a Minuite. But while they were dallying toge|ther, the Joyner return'd home, enter'd with|out being &s;een; and clapt him&s;elf into a Corn|er, to &s;ee how things went.</P>
<P>In the mean time the Gallant care&s;s'd his Mi&s;tre&s;s, who admitted his care&s;&s;es with de|light. They &s;upp'd together; then made them&s;elves unready to go to Bed.</P>
<P>The Joyner who till then had &s;een little or nothing that could convince him of his &s;hame &s;tole &s;oftly toward the Bed to take 'em in the Act: But his Wife having ob&s;erv'd him, whi&s;per'd her Lover in the Ear, that he &s;hould ask her which &s;he lov'd be&s;t, him or her Hus|band. Pre&s;ently her Gallant, with a loud Voice, Don't you love me, my Dear, cry'd he, much better then your Husband? Why do you ask me &s;uch a Que&s;tion, an&s;wer'd the Wife? Know you not that Women, when they &s;eem to &s;hew any Friend&s;hip to any other Man but their Husbands, 'tis only to &s;atisfie their plea&s;ure; and when they are &s;atisfy'd, they never think of their pretended lover more. For my part I Idolize my Husband, I wear him always in my heart; and in my Opinion that Woman is unworthy to live, that loves not her Husband better then her &s;elf.</P>
<PB N="194" REF="106">
<P>The&s;e words were &s;ome kind of Cordial to the Joyner's &s;pirits; who began to blame him|&s;elf for the bad Opinion he had of his Wife: &s;aying to him&s;elf, the fault which &s;he now commits mu&s;t be imputed to my ab&s;ence and the frailty of her Sex: The cha&s;te&s;t per&s;on in the World &s;ins either in deed or intention; and therefore &s;ince &s;he loves me &s;o well, I pardon her offence, nor will I deprive her of a mo|ment of her Plea&s;ure: And after he had made the&s;e Reflexions, the courteous Spou&s;e, retir'd to his Corner, and let the two Lovers wanton together, all the re&s;t of the Night.</P>
<P>The Lover departing betimes in the Morn|ing, the Wife lay a Bed counterfeiting her &s;elf a&s;leep: But then the Husband going to Bed, in his turn fell a care&s;&s;ing her; and the Wife opening her Eyes, and di&s;&s;embling A&s;to|ni&s;hment, Laud! my dear Heart, &s;aid &s;he to her Husband, how long have you been return'd? Ever &s;ince la&s;t Night reply'd the Joyner, but I was unwilling to di&s;turb the young Man that lay with you, becau&s;e you had me in your mind all the while you receiv'd his care&s;&s;es, which you would never have admitted but that you thought me ab&s;ent. Upon the&s;e kind words, the Wife beg'd the Husbands Pardon, and coax'd him up with a thou&s;and Flim-flams and fal&s;e Marks of Tenderne&s;s.</P>
<P>This Examples in&s;tructs us, that we are not to be lull'd a&s;leep with fair words. E|nemies when they cannot obtain their Ends by force have recour&s;e to Artifices, and hum|ble them&s;elves to deceive. Here <HI>Carchenas</HI> cry'd out, Oh! You that are &s;o Zealous for my Death, why do you not put an
<PB N="195" REF="106">end my Days, but talk too many things to no purpo&s;e to increa&s;e my Mi&s;ery? What probability of Perfidiou&s;ne&s;s do you find in a Per&s;on &s;o wounded as I am? What Madman would &s;uffer &s;o much tor|ment to do good to another? 'Tis in that very thing, reply'd the Vi&s;ir, that thy &s;ubtlety Con&s;i&s;ts. The &s;weetne&s;s of revenge which thou art meditating, makes thee patiently &s;wal|low the bitterne&s;s of thy pains. Thou would&s;t fain make thy &s;elf as famous as the Monkey that &s;acrifiz'd his Life to the &s;afety of his Country. I de&s;ire the King to hear the Story.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="196" REF="107">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Monkies and the Bears.</HEAD>
<P>A Great number of Monkeys liv'd in a Coun|try &s;tor'd with all manner of Fruit, and very delightful. A Bear travelling that way by accident, and con&s;idering the Beauty of the Re&s;idence, and the &s;weet lives the Monkies led, &s;aid he to him&s;elf, 'tis not ju&s;t nor rea|&s;onable that the&s;e little Animals &s;hould live &s;o happy, while I am forc'd to run through Forre&s;ts and Mountains in &s;earch of Food: And at the &s;ame time he went among the Apes and kill'd &s;ome of 'em for very Madne&s;s: But they all fell upon him, and in regard they were very numerous, they made him all over of a goar Blood; &s;o that he had much ado to e&s;cape.</P>
<P>Thus Puni&s;h'd for his Ra&s;hne&s;s, he reco|ver'd a Mountain, where he fell a roaring &s;o loud, that a great number of Bears came a|bout him, to whom he recounted what had befallen him. But all laught at him; thou art a Coward, cryd they, to &s;uffer thy &s;elf to be beaten by tho&s;e little Animals. However this affront is not to be endur'd; it mu&s;t be re|veng'd for the honour of our Nation. In &s;hort toward the Beginning of the Night, they de|&s;cended all from the Mountain, and fell pell mell upon the Monkies, dreaming nothing le&s;s then of &s;uch an Inva&s;ion. For they were all retir'd to their Re&s;t, when they were &s;urround|ed by the Bears, who kill'd a great number; the re&s;t e&s;caping in di&s;order. After which Exploit, the Bears were &s;o taken with this
<PB N="197" REF="107">Habitation, that they made choice of it for the Place of their abode. They &s;et up for their King, the Bear that had been &s;o ill handld by the Monkies; and after that, they fell to banquet upon the Provi&s;ions which the Monkies had heap'd together in their Maga|zines.</P>
<P>The next Morning by break of Day, the King of the Monkies, who knew nothing of this Rout, becau&s;e he had been a Hunting for two Days together, met &s;everal Monkies maim'd, who gave him an Account of what had pa&s;t the day before. The King, when he heard this doleful news, fell a Weeping and Lamenting the va&s;t Trea&s;ure he had lo&s;t, accu&s;ing Heaven of Inju&s;tice, and Fortune of incon&s;tancy: Be&s;ides that, his &s;ubjects pre&s;t him to take his revenge; &s;o that the poor King knew not which way to turn him&s;elf. Among all the&s;e Monkies, there was one call'd <HI>Mai|mon,</HI> who was one of the mo&s;t crafty and mo&s;t learned in the Court, and the Kings fa|vourite, who &s;eeing his Ma&s;ter &s;ad, and his Companions in Con&s;ternation, &s;tood up, and addre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to the King, Per&s;ons of Wit and Di&s;cretion, &s;aid he, never abandon them&s;elves to de&s;pair, which is a Tree that bears very bad Fruit: But Patience on the Contrary, &s;upplies us with a thou&s;and inven|tions to rid our &s;elves out of the entanglements of Trouble and Adver&s;ity.</P>
<P>Pre&s;ently the King, whom this di&s;cour&s;e had render'd much more ea&s;ie in his mind, turning to <HI>Maimon,</HI> how &s;hall we do, &s;aid he, to bring our &s;elves off with Honour from this ignominious Mi&s;hap? <HI>Maimon</HI> be|&s;ought
<PB N="198" REF="108">his Maje&s;ty to allow him private audi|ence, and after he had obtain'd it, he &s;poke to this Effect.</P>
<P>Sir, &s;aid he, my Wife and Children have been ma&s;&s;akerd by the&s;e Tyrants. Conje|cture you my Grief, to &s;ee my &s;elf depriv'd for ever of tho&s;e &s;weets which I enjoy'd in the mid&s;t of my Family. I am re&s;olv'd to dye, that I may put an end to my &s;orrows: But my death &s;hall prove fatal to my Enemies. O <HI>Mai|mon,</HI> &s;aid the King, we never de&s;ire to be reveng'd of our Enemies, but to procure to our &s;elves repo&s;e or &s;atisfaction of Mind. But when you are Dead, what &s;ignifies it to you, whether the World be at Wars or in Peace? Sir, reply'd <HI>Maimon,</HI> in the condition I am in, life being in&s;upportable to me, I &s;acrifice it with delight to the happi|ne&s;s of my Companions. All the favour I beg of your Maje&s;ty, is only to remember my Genero&s;ity, when you &s;hall be re-e&s;tabli&s;h'd in your Dominions. Command my Ears to be torn from my Head, my Teeth to be pull'd out, my Feet to be cut off, and then let me be left the Night time in a Corner of the Forre&s;t where we were lodg'd. Retire you, Sir, with the remainder of your Subjects, and remove two Days journey from hence, and the third you may return to your Place; for you &s;hall hear no more of your Enemies. The King, tho' with great grief, caus'd <HI>Maimon's</HI> de&s;ires to be Executed, and left him in the Wood, where all Night long he made the mo&s;t doleful Lamentations that ever Mi&s;ery utter'd.</P>
<PB N="199" REF="108">
<P>When Day &s;hone out, the King of the Bears, who had heard <HI>Maimon's</HI> out-cries, advanc'd to &s;ee what it was, and beholding the Poor Monkey in that Condition, he was mov'd with compa&s;&s;ion, notwith&s;tanding his merci|le&s;s Humour, and ask'd him who had us'd him after that barbarous manner, and who he was? <HI>Maimon</HI> judging by all appearances, that he was the King of the Bears that &s;poke to him, after he had re&s;pectfully &s;aluted him, Sir, &s;aid he, I am the King of the Monkey's chief Mini&s;ter, I went a Hunting with him, and at our return, under&s;tanding the Ravages which your Maje&s;ties Souldiers had committed in our Hou&s;es, he took me a-&s;ide, and ask'd me what I thought was his be&s;t cour&s;e to take in &s;uch a Conjuncture? I an&s;wer'd him without any he&s;itation, that we ought to put our &s;elves under your Protection, that we might live at ea&s;e and unmole&s;ted. The King my Ma&s;ter then talk'd many ridiculous things of your Maje&s;ty, which was the Rea&s;on that I took the boldne&s;s to tell him, that you were a mo&s;t renowned Prince, and more Potent then he Which audaciou&s;ne&s;s of mine incens'd him to that degree, that immediately he com|manded me to be thus mangl'd as you &s;ee me.</P>
<P><HI>Maimon</HI> had no &s;ooner concluded his Re|lation, but he let fall &s;uch a &s;hower of Tears, that the King of the Bears was mollifi'd al&s;o, and could not forbear Weeping him&s;elf. Af|ter that, he ask'd <HI>Maimon,</HI> where the Monkeys were? In a de&s;art call'd <HI>Mardazmay,</HI> an|&s;wer'd he, where they are rai&s;ing a prodigious Army; and there is no que&s;tion to be made,
<PB N="200" REF="109">but they will be with you in a very &s;hort time. The King of the Bears, not a little terrifi'd as this News, ask'd <HI>Maimon</HI> what cour&s;e he &s;hould take to &s;ecure him&s;elf from the Enter|pri&s;es of the Monkeys? Your Maje&s;ty, reply'd <HI>Maimon,</HI> need not fear 'em, were not my Legs broke, I would undertake with one &s;ingle Troop of your <HI>Heydukes,</HI> to de&s;troy Forty thou&s;and of the&s;e Apes. There is no que&s;ti|on, &s;aid the King, but you know all the A|venues to their Camp. You will oblige us for ever, would you but conduct us thither, and we will revenge the Barbarity committed upon your Per&s;on. That's impo&s;&s;ible, reply'd <HI>Maimon,</HI> becau&s;e I can neither go nor &s;tand. There is a remedy for every thing, an&s;wer'd the King, and I will find an invention to carry ye; and at the &s;ame time he gave orders to his Army to be in readine&s;s to march, and to put them|&s;elves into a condition to Fight. They all obey'd, and ty'd <HI>Maimon,</HI> who was to be their Guide, upon the Head of one of the bige&s;t Bears.</P>
<P><HI>Maimon</HI> conducted 'em into the De&s;art of <HI>Mardazmay,</HI> where blew a poi&s;onous Wind, and where the Heat was &s;o vehement that there was no Creature to be &s;een in it. Now when the Bears were enter'd into this dangerous De&s;art, <HI>Maimon,</HI> to engage 'em farther into it, Come, &s;aid he, by way of Encouragment, let us make ha&s;te and &s;urprize 'em before Day. So they march'd all Night; but the next Day they were a&s;toni&s;h'd to find them&s;elves in &s;o di&s;|mal a Place. They not only &s;aw not &s;o much as the likene&s;s of a Monkey appear, but they perceiv'd that the Sun had &s;o heated the Air, that the Birds that flew over the De&s;art fell
<PB N="201" REF="109">down griddl'd; and the Sand was &s;o Burning hot, that the Bears Feet were all Roa&s;ted. Then &s;aid the King to <HI>Maimon,</HI> into what a De&s;art ha&s;t thou brought us? And what fierce Whirl-Winds do I &s;ee coming toward us? Then the Monkey, finding they were all ready to peri&s;h, &s;poke Boldly, and in an&s;wer to the King of the Bears, Tyrant, &s;aid he, we are in the De&s;art of Death: The Whirl-Wind that approaches us is Death it &s;elf, which comes to puni&s;h thee for thy Tyrannies: And while he was thus &s;peaking, the fiery Whirl-Wind came and &s;wept 'em all away.</P>
<P>Two days after, the King of the Monkeys return'd to his Palace, as <HI>Maimon</HI> foretold him; and finding all his Enemies gone, con|tinu'd a long Reign in Peace with his Apes.</P>
<P>Your Maje&s;ty, pur&s;u'd the Vi&s;ir, &s;ees by this Example, that there is no tru&s;ting to the alluring Words of an Enemy. He mu&s;t peri&s;h that &s;eeks the De&s;truction of others. This di&s;|cour&s;e put the King of the Owls in a Pa&s;&s;ion, who in a fume cry'd to the chief Mini&s;ter, why all this &s;tir to hinder this Poor mi&s;erable Creature from the Proof of my Clemency? And at the &s;ame time he commanded his Sur|geons to dre&s;s <HI>Carchenas,</HI> and to take particu|lar care of him. You don't con&s;ider, added the King, that you may fall under the &s;ame mi&s;|fortune that has befallen him.</P>
<P>As for <HI>Carchenas,</HI> he behav'd him&s;elf &s;o well, that in a little time he won the Love of all the Court. The King of the Owls con|fided in him, and began to do nothing without fir&s;t con&s;ulting him. One day <HI>Carchenas</HI> addre&s;ing him&s;elf to the King; Sir, &s;aid he, the King of
<PB N="202" REF="110">the Ravens has abus'd me &s;o unju&s;tly, that I &s;hall never dye &s;atisfy'd, till I have fir&s;t grati|fy'd my Revenge. I have been a long time romaging my Brains for the Means: But I have bethought my &s;elf, that I never can compa&s;s it &s;afely nor hand&s;omly, &s;o long as I wear the &s;hape of a Raven. I have heard Men of Learn|ing and Experience &s;ay, that he who has been ill us'd by a Tyrant, if he makes any wi&s;h, he mu&s;t put him&s;elf into the Fire; for that while he continues there all his wi&s;hes will be heard. For which rea&s;on I be&s;eech your Maje&s;ty that I may be thrown into the Fire, to the end that in the middle of the Flames, I may beg of God to change me into an Owl. Perhaps Heaven will hear my Prayer, and then I &s;hall be able to revenge my &s;elf upon my Enemy.</P>
<P>The chief Mini&s;ter that had &s;poken again&s;t <HI>Carchenas</HI> was then in the A&s;&s;embly, and hear|ing this lu&s;cious Speech, O Traytour, cry'd he, whither tends all this &s;uperfluous Lan|guage? Now art thou weaving mi&s;chief, as &s;ure as God is in Heaven. Sir, added he, turning to the King, you may care&s;s this wick|ed Fellow as long as you plea&s;e, he will never change his Nature. The Mou&s;e was metamor|phos'd into a Maid, and yet &s;he could not for|bear wi&s;hing to have a Rat for her Husband. You love, to tell Fables, &s;aid the King to him in Raillery; and I will hear this Fable of yours for once; but I will not promi&s;e you to be a Pin the better for it.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<PB N="203" REF="110">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Mou&s;e, that was chang'd into a little Girl.</HEAD>
<P>A Per&s;on of Quality walking one Day by the &s;ide of a Fountain, &s;aw a Mou&s;e fall at his Feet from the Bill of a Raven who held it a little too carele&s;ly. The Gentleman out of pi|ty took it, up and carry'd it home; but fearing le&s;t it &s;hould cau&s;e any di&s;order, he pray'd the Gods to change it into a Maid. Which was pre&s;ently done; &s;o that in&s;tead of a Mou&s;e, of a &s;udden he &s;aw a very pretty Girl, which he Bred up. Some Years after the good Man &s;eeing her big anough to be Marry'd, chu&s;e out, &s;aid he to her, in all the whole extent of Nature, what Being plea&s;es thee be&s;t, and I will make him thy Husband. I would, &s;aid the Virgin, have a Husband &s;o &s;trong, that he &s;hould never be vanqui&s;h'd. That mu&s;t needs be the Sun, reply'd the old Gentleman: And therefore the next Morning, &s;aid he to the Sun, my Daughter de&s;ires an invincible Hus|band, will you Marry her? Alas, an&s;wer d the Sun, yonder Cloud enfeebles my Beams; addre&s;s your &s;elf to that. Then the good Man made his Compliment to the Cloud. Alas, &s;aid the Cloud, the Wind drives me as it plea&s;es. The old Gentleman nothing di&s;courag'd, de|&s;ir'd the Wind to Marry his Daughter. But the Wind laying before him, that his &s;trength was &s;topt by &s;uch a Mountain, he addre&s;s'd him&s;elf to the Mountain. Oh! Sir, &s;aid the Mountain, the Rat is &s;tronger then I; for he pierces me in every &s;ide, and eats into my ve|ry
<PB N="204" REF="111">Bowels; whereupon the old Gentleman went at length to the Rat, who con&s;ented to Marry his Daughter, &s;aying withal that he had been a long time &s;eeking out for a Wife. So the old Gentleman returning home, ask'd his Daughter whether &s;he would Marry a Rat. Now he expected that &s;he would have ab|horr'd the Thoughts of &s;uch a Marriage; but he was amaz'd to &s;ee her out of Patience to be united to a Rat. Thereupon the old Man went to his Prayers again, and de&s;ir'd the Gods that they would turn his Daughter into a Mou&s;e as &s;he was before, which they did ac|cordingly.</P>
<P>But the King of the Owls attributing all the&s;e Remon&s;trances to his chief Mini&s;ters Jea|lou&s;ie of the Raven, took little notice of 'em. In the mean time <HI>Carchenas</HI> ob&s;erv'd the com|ings in and goings out of the Owls, and when he had perfectly inform'd him&s;elf of every thing, he left 'em and return'd to the Ravens. He gave the King his Ma&s;ter an Acccount of every thing that had pa&s;t, and then, Sir, &s;aid he, now is the time for us to be reveng'd of our Enemies. In a Mountain that I know, there is a Cave where all the Owls meet every day, and this Mountain is environ'd with a Wood. Your Maje&s;ty needs no more but to command your Army to carry a great Quantity of that Wood, to the Mouth of the Cave. I will be ready at hand to kindle the Wood, and then all the Ravens &s;hall flutter round about, to blow the Fire into a flame. By which means &s;uch Owls as &s;hall adventure out, will be burnt in the flames, and &s;uch as &s;tay within &s;hall be &s;mother'd.</P>
<PB N="205" REF="111">
<P>The King approv'd the Ravens Coun&s;el, and ordering his whole Army to &s;et forward, they did as <HI>Carchenas,</HI> had conrivued it, and by that means de&s;troy'd all the Owls. By this Example you &s;ee that &s;ometimes &s;ubmi&s;&s;ion to an Enemy is requi&s;ite for the eluding of their wicked De&s;igns. Of which the Fable that follows is a further Proof.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 TYPE="fable">
<HEAD>The Fable of the Serpent and the Frogs.</HEAD>
<P>A Serpent became old and feeble, and no longer able to Hunt abroad for his Food: he wail'd the Infirmities of old Age, and wi&s;h'd in vain for the &s;trength of his youth|ful Yeats: However hunger forc'd him to find out a Stratagem to get his Livelyhood. He went to the Brink of a Ditch, where liv'd an infinite Number of Frogs that had Elected a King to Rule over 'em. There the Serpent &s;eem'd to be very &s;ad and &s;ick; upon which a Frog askt him what he ayl'd. I am ready to Starve, an&s;wer'd the Ser|pent: Formerly I liv'd upon the Frogs which I took, but now I am &s;o unfortu|nate that I cannot catch one. Pre&s;ently the Frog went and inform'd the King of the Serpents Condition and an&s;wer. Upon which report, the King went him&s;elf to the place to look upon the Serpent, who &s;eeing him, Sir, &s;aid he, one Day as I was going to &s;nap a Frog by the Tayl, the Frog got from me,
<PB N="206" REF="112">and fled to a Monks Apartement, and enter'd into a dark Chamber, where lay a little In|fant a &s;leep. At the &s;ame time I al&s;o enter'd in pur&s;uit, of my Game, and feeling the Childs Foot, which I took for the Frog, I bit it in &s;uch a venomous manner that the Child immediately Dy'd. The Monk pro|vok'd by my boldne&s;s, pur&s;u'd me with all his might, but not being able to overtake me, he beg'd of Heaven for the Puni&s;hment of my Crime, that I might never be able to catch Frogs more, unle&s;s their King gave me one or two in Charity; and la&s;tly he ad|ded to his wi&s;hes, that I might be their &s;lave and obey 'em. The&s;e Prayers of the Monk, continu'd the Serpent, were heard, and I am now come to &s;ubmit my &s;elf to your Laws, and obey your Orders, &s;ince it is the will of Heaven.</P>
<P>The King of the Frogs receiv'd him with great Di&s;dain and &s;welling Pride, and told him with a haughty Taunt, that he would make u&s;e of his Service; and indeed for &s;ome Days, the Serpent carry'd the King upon his Back: But at length, mo&s;t Potent Monarch, &s;aid he, if you intend that I &s;hould &s;erve you long, you mu&s;t feed me, or I &s;hall &s;tarve to Death. Thou &s;ay'&s;t very true, hone&s;t Serpent, re|ply'd the King of the Frogs, hence forward I will allow thee to &s;wallow two of my Subjects a Day for thy Sub&s;i&s;tance. Thus the Serpent, by &s;ubmiting to his Enemy, &s;e|cur'd to him&s;elf, at his Enemies co&s;t, a &s;ub|&s;i&s;tance during the remainder of his Life.</P>
<P>Sir, &s;aid <HI>Pilpay,</HI> Your Maje&s;ty &s;ees by the&s;e Examples, that Patience is a great Ver|tue,
<PB N="207" REF="112">and mainly conduces to bring about va&s;t De&s;igns. Wi&s;e Men had Rea&s;on to &s;ay, that Prudence goes beyond &s;trength; a Man by his Wit may redeem him&s;elf out of Danger: But know withal, and 'tis no more then what the&s;e Examples inform us, that we are never to tru&s;t an Enemy, whatever Prote&s;tations of Friend|&s;hip he makes you. A Raven will be a Raven &s;till. Only true Friends are to be rely'd upon, and only their Conver&s;ation and Familiarity can be Beneficial to us.</P>
</DIV3>
</DIV2>
<TRAILER>The End.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="table of contents">
<PB REF="113">
<HEAD>THE CONTENTS.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<ITEM><HI>WHAT gave Occa&s;ion to the Wri|ting of this Book, and by whom it was compos'd.</HI> Page 1.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Story of</HI> Dab&s;chelim <HI>and</HI> Pilpay. 5</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Travelling Pigeon.</HI> 14.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Falcon and the Raven.</HI> 20.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Greedy and Ambitious Cat.</HI> 22.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Poor Man that became a King.</HI> 25.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Leopard and the Li|on.</HI> 28.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<PB REF="113">
<HEAD>CHAP. I.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>THAT we ought to avoid the In&s;inuations of Flatterers, and Back-biters.</HI> Page 32.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Merchant and his Leud Children.</HI> ibid.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a King and his two Sons.</HI> 34.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Derwich, a Falcon, and a Raven.</HI> 37.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Country-Man and &s;eve|ral Rats.</HI> 38.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Carpenter and the Ape.</HI> 42.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the two Travellers, and the Lion carv'd in White Stone.</HI> 43.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Fox and the Hen.</HI> 50.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Monk that left his Convent.</HI> 54.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Sparrow and the Spar|row-Hawk.</HI> 61.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a King who of a Tyrant, as he was, became Benign and Ju&s;t.</HI> 64.</ITEM>
<PB REF="114">
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Raven, a Fox, and a Serpent.</HI> 66.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Crane and the Cray|fi&s;h.</HI> 67.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Rabbet, the Fox, and the Wolf.</HI> 70.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Lion and the Rabbet.</HI> 73.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the two Fi&s;her men, and the three Fi&s;h.</HI> 77.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Scorpion and the Tor|toi&s;e.</HI> 79.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Falcon and the Hen.</HI> 83.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Nightingale and the Country-Man.</HI> 85.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Hunter, the Fox and the Leopard.</HI> 87.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Wolf, the Fox, the Raven and the Cammel.</HI> 89.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Angel Ruler of the Sea, and two Birds call'd</HI> Titavi. 94.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Tortoi&s;e and two Ducks.</HI> 95.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the two young Merchants, the one Crafty the other without Malice.</HI> 98.</ITEM>
<PB REF="114">
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Frog, the Cray-fi&s;h, and the Serpent.</HI> 100.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Gardner and the Bear.</HI> 103.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Merchant and his Friend.</HI> 105.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>CHAP. II.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>THAT the wicked come to an ill End.</HI> Page 108.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Fox, the Wolf and the Hen.</HI> 109.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the A&s;s and the Gardner.</HI> 110.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Prince and his Squire.</HI> 112.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Hermit who quitted the De&s;art to live at Court.</HI> 115.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Blind Man, who Travel|led with one of his Friends.</HI> 118.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a religious Doctor and a Derwiche.</HI> 121.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Female Coquette and the Painter.</HI> 124.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the three envious Per&s;ons that found Money.</HI> 127.</ITEM>
<PB REF="115">
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the ignorant Phy&s;ician.</HI> 131.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the vertuous Woman and the young Falconer.</HI> 136.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>CHAP. III.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>HOW we ought to make choice of Friends, and what Advantage may be reap'd from their Conver&s;a|tion.</HI> Page 141.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Raven, the Rat, the Pigeon, the Tortoi&s;e and the Goat.</HI> 142.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Partridge and the Falcon.</HI> 146.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Man and the Adder.</HI> 149.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Adventures of</HI> Zirac. 154.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of a Husband and his Wife.</HI> 156.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Hunter and the Wolf.</HI> 157.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the ravenous Cat.</HI> 161.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the two Friends.</HI> 163.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<PB REF="115">
<HEAD>CHAP. IV.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>THAT we ought always to di&s;tru&s;t our Enemies, and be perfectly in|form'd of whatever pa&s;&s;es among 'em.</HI> Page 168.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Crow and the Owl.</HI> 169.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the King and his Mi|&s;tre&s;s.</HI> 170.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Original of the hatred between the Ravens and the Owls.</HI> 176.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Elephants and the Rabbet.</HI> 178.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Cat and the Partridge.</HI> 182.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Derwiche and the four Robbers.</HI> 184</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Merchant, his Wife, and the Robber.</HI> 188.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Derwiche, the Thief, and the Devil.</HI> 189.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Joyner and his Wife.</HI> 192.</ITEM>
<PB REF="116">
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Monkies and the Bears.</HI> 196.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Mou&s;e, that was chang'd into a little Girl.</HI> 203.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>The Fable of the Serpent and the Frogs.</HI> 205.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
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<PB REF="116">
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<P>A Voyage to the <HI>Ea&s;t-Indies,</HI> giving an Ac|count of the I&s;les of <HI>Madaga&s;car,</HI> and <HI>Ma&s;ca|rene,</HI> of <HI>Surat,</HI> the Coa&s;t of <HI>Malaber,</HI> &amp;c. Written Originally in <HI>French</HI> by Mr. <HI>Dellon,</HI> M. D. 8vo.</P>
<P>The Education of Young Gentlewomen, Written Originally in <HI>French,</HI> and from thence made <HI>Engli&s;h,</HI> and improved for a Lady of Quality. 12<HI>s.</HI> 1699.</P>
<P>Advice to Young Gentlemen, in their &s;eve|ral Conditions of Life. By way of Addre&s;s from a Father to his Children; by the Abbot <HI>Gou&s;&s;ault,</HI> with his Sentiments and Maxims upon what pa&s;&s;es in civil Society. Printed at <HI>Paris</HI> 1697. and Tran&s;lated into <HI>Engli&s;h.</HI> 8vo.</P>
<P>Bi&s;hop <HI>Tillot&s;on</HI>'s Po&s;thumous Sermons in Five Vol. 8vo.</P>
<PB REF="117">
</DIV1>
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</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
