THE FABLES OF PILPAY, A Famous Indian PHYLOSOPHER:

Containing many useful Rules for the Conduct of Humane Life. Made Eng­lish, and Address'd to his Highness the Duke of Gloucester.

LONDON. Printed for Dan. Brown at the Black Swan without Temple Bar, Chr. Connigsby at the Turks-head against St. Dunstans Church in Fleet-street, D. Midwinter, and T. Leigh, at the Rose and Crown in St. Paul's Church Yard, 1699.

TO HIS Illustrious Highness, THE Duke of Gloucester.

WHilst all the forward Bloom of so early a Spring, has already ripen'd those Genuine GLORIES in Your Highness, that have now call'd YOU, YOUR GREAT SELF, to fill a Court, no long­er make a Part of One; a­mongst the Universal Homa­gers that bend a Knee to so Fair a Rising Sun, be pleas'd to admit the Humblest of those Knees to lay this Offring at Your Highness's Feet.

And if a Presumption of this kind may not wholly pre­tend to an Excuse, at least it may arrogate some shadow of an Encouragement, when I see Your Highness, like a young Alexander, betwixt his Parmenio and his Aristotle; nurst under an equal Tutorage in Literature and Arms, a Student in Arts, as well as Glory: And while you are thus Daily promising the World as Rich a Furniture of your Closet, as your Armory, 'tis this Attraction invites me to make this Oblation of Science, and Letters, to Your Highness. Besides as this little Historical Piece, under the Cover of Fables, carries the Instruction and Illustration of all those Princely Vertues that shine in [Page] Courts, and Adorn the Throne; where may I more properly devote these Miniatures of Morals, and Heroick Virtues, then to Your Highness, so shin­ing an ORIGINAL of them?

And as Your Highness, a­dorn'd both with those Nume­rous Hereditary Graces, and so many Acquir'd ones, appears the Universal Hope of Three Kingdoms, and indeed the Ex­pectation of the World; no less enrich'd with those Illustrious Veins, and those Immediate Depending Virtues, Your High­ness seems Born to give so Glorious a Parentage their very Foundation of Immortality; whilst not only the Best, and Greatest of Princes, but what is yet a Nobler Exaltation, the [Page] Faithfullest, Conjugal, ROYAL PAIR, shall keep their Glories ever Living, in so Darling a Branch from that Imperial Root.

But whilst I am thus wrapt up into Your Highness's most Exalted MERITS, I must now take my Eyes from that dazling Object, to look down on the Poor unworthyness of that bold Aspirer, that dares throw himself at Your High­ness's Feet, being, with the Profoundest Veneration, and Humility,

Your Highness's, Most Devoted, and most Dutiful Servant, Joseph Harris.

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PILPAY, an Indian Bramin is the Author of this Treatise. The Indians attribute to their Wise Men the Name of Bramin, as the Greeks give to Theirs the Title of Brachmans. He com­pos'd this little Work, while he govern'd one part of Indolstan; that is to say, the King­doms that lye between Indus and Ganges, under the Soveraignty of Dabschelim his Master. Pilpay has display'd all his Po­liticks in this little Peice; and according to the Custom of all the Eastern People, who never teach but in Parables, he lays before all Kings and Princes the Methods of well Governing their Subjects. Dabschelim for a long time, kept this Depositum as a [Page]great Secret, and left it to his Successours, till the Reign of Nouschirvan King of Persia.

That Prince, having heard much talk of this Book, sent his Physitian on purpose to the Indies, to procure a Copy of it, what­ever it cost him. The Physitian discharg'd himself of his Trust to the great Satisfacti- of his Master; and being a person who perfectly understood the Indian Lan­guage, he translated these Fables into the Ancient Persian Tongue, call'd Pahlavy, and which was usually spoken at that time by the Kings of Persia.

The Arabians, after they had Con­quer'd the fairest Provinces of the East, began to polish the Rudeness of their Man­ners with the Ornaments of Learning. They not only endeavour'd to render their Language Copious and Delightful, but they also invited into their Country the most Witty and Learned Persons of all the Nations of the World, to whom they gave great Rewards for Translating all the most Remarkable Books of every Coun­try. Aboul Hassan Abdalla Almansor [Page]translated these Fables out of Persian into Arabic, by the order of Abou-Giafar Almansor, the Abassid.

This third Translation was attended by a fourth, into the Persian, by the Com­mand of Nasreh Ben Ahmad. And Nasrallah, B [...]n Mouhammed, Ben Abdelhamed, translated these Fables also into the Persian Language, and this last Translation surpass'd all the Rest. From thence it was that we translated ours: And they who are not ignorant of the Vari­rous and Differing Versions of the Bible, Aristotle, Euclid, and Ptolomy into Greek, Syriac, and Arabic, will not be surpriz'd at the several Translations of this Book. They will esteem it the more, since frequent Translations are the most certain Evidencies of the Excellency of a Work. Therefore the Learned Bezourg Ommid, in his An­swers to Chosrou upon the most intricate Doubts and knotty Questions, while he makes use of these Fables, shews the real Benefit of 'em.

There is no need of making any long Dis­course upon the Method or Custom of teach­ing in Parables, since it was the Practice observ'd by the Saviour of the World amongst his Apostles, to whom, as the Gospel tells us, he explain'd himself particularly in Parables. Be­fore that time the example of Trees, that chose themselves a King, recited in the second of Kings, may stop the Mouths of the most prepossess'd. The Jews have so well continu'd this manner of Expressing their Sence, and unfolding their Doctrines, that it cannot be conceal'd from those who have perus'd the Jewish Writings. In the Talmud, Bereschit, Rabba, Zohar, &c. They make the Waters, Mountains, Trees, and Letters themselves to speak; as in Rabbi Akuibae; which was imitated by Lucian in his Judicium Vocalium. The rest of the Orientals follow'd the Example of the Hebrews; the Indians had our Pilpay, and the Parables of Sandhaber, which are still extant in the Hebrew, from whence our French deriv'd their Romance of the Wise Men of Rome. The Egyptians and Nubians have their Lockman, the most ancient of all the [Page]rest, since Mirkhond in his First Vo­lum makes him a Contemporary with David. The Arabians also have a large Book of Fables, which is in great Repu­tation among 'em; the Author of which is highly applauded by their False Pro­phet.

The Greeks were Imitators of the Eastern People; I say Imitators, since the Greeks themselves acknowledge that they gain'd this sort of Learning from Aesop, who was an Oriental, and whose Life being written by the Monk Planudes, is the same with that of Lockmans; insomuch that as Mercury makes a Pre­sent to Aesop, in Philostratus, the An­gels make a Present of Wisdom to Lock­man, in Mirkhond.

But we shall leave the Reader to make his own Reflexions, and say no more but only this, that one of the Reasons which oblig'd the Eastern People, to make use of Fables in their Instructions and Admonitions was, because the Eastern Monarchies being for the most part Despotic, their Subjects are no less restrain'd from [Page]Freedom of Speech; however being an Inge­nious People they found out this way, whereby they might be able, without ex­posing their Lives, to inform and ad­vise their Princes, who treat 'em as Slaves, and will not permit 'em the liberty of Speaking what they think.

THE FABLES OF PILPAY: OR, The Conduct to be observ'd by High and Low.

What gave an Occasion to the Writing of this Book, and by whom it was Com­pos'd.

HIstorians report, That anciently, to­wards the Confines of China, there was a King, whose Renown as well as his Vertues were spread far and near, and become the admiration of the World. The greatest Princes of the Earth were subject to his Commands. He was atte [...]d like a Feridoun, lodg'd like Gemschid, potent as Alex­ander, [Page 2]and armed like Dara, or Darius. His Counsel was compos'd of Persons of Integri­ty and Learning. His Riches were immense, his Arms numerous, and himself both Valiant and Just. Rebels felt his Anger; his Souldiers imitated his Valour; his Justice humbled the Pride of Tyrants, and his Goodness succour'd the Miserable. In a word, under the Empire of Humayon-Fal, for so this vertuous Emperour was call'd, the People were happy, while ex­act Inquisition was made after the Wicked, and care was taken to punish 'em as Enemies to the Public Tranquility.

Justice ought to be the Rule of every Prince's Actions, who desires his Kingdom and his Throne should be Establish'd like the Residence of God: But if he omits to administer Justice, let him be assur'd, his Dominions will not be long secure from utter Ruin.

This King had a Visir, or Prime Minister, who lov'd the People like a real Father; he was Merciful and Compassionate; and his Counsels, like Tapers, gave light to the most hidden Se­crets of the State. His Name was Gnogesteh­rai, that is to say, successful Counsel, because that by the address of his Wit he had ren­der'd the Kingdom happy; so that the King ne­ver undertook any Enterprise without consult­ing him. He did every thing by his Advice, and without it nothing prosper'd.

One Day that the King rode a Hunting, the Visir attended on him; and after the Sport and Pleasure of their Exercise was over, the King was desirous to return to his Palace: But the heat of the Sun was so violently scorch­ing, that the King told the Visir, he was not [Page 3]able to endure it. The Visir answer'd, That if it were his Majesty's pleasure, he might go to the Foot of the Mountain where he would be sure of cool Shade, and the refreshing Breezes of the Wind, and that there they might spend the heat of the Day. The King follow'd his Advice, and in a little time they got to the place, where the Coolness, caus'd by the shade of several Trees that Nature seem'd to have ta­ken delight to plant by the sides of sundry Foun­tains, made 'em forget the Heat which they had endur'd upon the open Road. The King finding the Covert very delightful, sat down upon the green Grass, and falling into a deep Contemplation of the Works of God, he ad­mir'd the inimitable Painting of the Flowers and Pastures that offered themselves to his sight.

As he was looking round about him, he spy'd the Trunk of a Tree, which the rotten­ness of the Wood declard to be decay'd and ve­ry old, and wherein there was a swarm of Bees that were making Honey: Upon which, he asked the Visir, what those little Creatures were? Most Sovereign Mo­narch, replied the Visir, those little Creatures are very beneficial, and do very little harm: They have a King among 'em, call'd Jasoub, who is bigger than the rest, and whom they all obey; he resides in a little square Apartment, and has a Visir, his Porters, his Serjeants, and his Guards; and the Industry of all his Offi­cers is such, that they frame every one for themselves a little fix-corner'd Chamber of Wax, the Angles of which differ not at all the one from the other, but are so exactly made to answer one another, that the most expert Geo­metrician [Page 4]could not order 'em with more regula­rity. These little Chambers finish'd, the Vi­sir takes of 'em an Oath of Fidelity; which is never to defile themselves. According to which promise, they never light but upon the Branches of Rose-bushes or odoriferous Flowers, so that their Food is digested in a little time, and chang'd into a certain Substance of a sweet and pleasing Taste. When they return home the Porters smell to 'em, and if they have no ill scent about 'em they are permitted to enter; but if they have any ungrateful scent they kill 'em. Or if they negligently suffer any one that has an ill Scent to enter, and the King happens to smell it, he sends for the Porters and puts them and the Offender to death at the same time. If any strange Fly endeavours to enter their Commu­nity, the Porters oppose him, and if he seeks to enter by Force he is put to death. Historians also report, that Gemschid learnt to build his Palace, to have Visirs, Porters, Guards and Officers from these little Creatures.

When the King had heard the Visir thus Di­scourse, he went near the Tree, stood still to behold the little Animals at Work, and after he had well consider'd 'em, he admir'd to see a Society of Insects so well govern'd. His Visir beholding him wrapt up with Astonishment, Sir, said he, all this good Order depends only upon the good Counsel and prudent Conduct of wise and able Ministers, well affected to their Princes, and lovers of the public Peace, and these are they that always preserve an Em­pire in a flourishing Condition. In that we ought to follow the Example of the Great Dabsche­lim, who resigned the Government of his King­doms [Page 5]to the good Counsels of the prudent Bra­min Pilpay; insomuch, that by the good Gui­dance of that Minister, he reign'd in Peace while he liv'd, and dying left to his Posterity the happy Memory of his Name.

When the King heard him pronounce the Names of Dabschelim and Pilpay, he felt in him­self the motions of a more than ordinary Joy. I have, said he to his Visir, for a long time most earnestly desired to hear the Story of that Bra­min's Government, but never yet could meet with an Opportunity to satisfie my self; now I give thanks to Heaven, for that my Desires may in some measure be fulfil'd. I desire you there­fore to repeat it to me, to the end his wholsome Counsels may be beneficial as well to the Pub­lic, as to every particular Person. Whereupon the Visir thus began.

The Story of Dabschelim and Pilpay.

I Have learnt from Men of Wit and Learning, that in one of the Cities of India, that was the Metropolis of it, there reign'd a Prince, whose Ministers, Persons of clear Parts and deep Insight, by their Counsels rendred his Subjects happy, and still successfully brought to pass the just Designs of their Sovereign. He was a sworn Enemy of Oppression; nor could the Wicked gain their Ends in his Dominions, because they were always severely punished. This King was call'd by the Name of Dabsche­lim, (a Name most proper for such a Prince, as signifying in their Language, a Great King) [Page 6]His Puissance was such, that he undertook none but extraordinary Enterprises. His Army was compos'd of ten thousand Elephants; and as for valiant and experienc'd Soldiers he had 'em a­bout him in great numbers, and his Treasures full to support 'em. All this render'd him for­midable to his Enemies, and procur'd the Re­pose of his People, of whom he took a particu­lar care himself, hearing their Complaints and Differences with delight, composing their Quar­rels, and making himself the Arbtitator of their Disputes, without any respect to his Grandeur and Magnificence. He never forsook the Inte­rests of his People, but referr'd their Affairs to the Debates and Decisions of Men of Justice and Equity. After he had taken such good Order for the Government of his Dominions, he liv'd in Tranquility, and spent his Days with Hap­piness and Content. One day that he had been entertain d with diverse Discourses upon seve­ral Sciences, he laid himself down upon his Bed, to give some relaxation to his Mind: Which he had no sooner done, but he saw in a Dream a certain Figure full of Light and Maje­sty, which spake to him these Words, You have done this day a good Action for the sake of God, and you shall be rewarded for it. To morrow, by break of day, get a Horseback, and ride toward the East, where you shall find an inestimable Treasure, by the means of which you shall exceed all other Men. Presently Dabschelim awoke, and set himself to consider of this vast Treasure.

By break of day he mounted one of his most beautiful Horses, which he order'd to be har­ness'd with Saddles of Gold, and Bridles all Enamell'd, and away he rid directly East-ward. [Page 7]He rode through several Inhabited places, and at length arriv'd in a Desert, where Viewing the Country, and casting his Eyes on every side, to discover his expected Happiness, he per­ceiv'd a very high Mountain, that reach'd a­bove the Clouds, at the Foot of which he spy'd a Cave obscure and dark, and black within as the Hearts of wicked Men. At the same time, he saw sitting without a Man, whose A­spect alone sufficiently shew'd the austerity of his Life. The King had a great desire to ride up to him, when the old Man understanding his Intention, and breaking silence, Sir, said he, tho' my small Cottage be nothing like to your magnificent Palace, yet it is an Ancient Custom, for Kings, out of their Goodness, to come and visit the Poor. The looks of great Men cast down upon the Poor augment their Grandeur. Solomon in the midst of all his Glory and Magnificence vouchsaf'd to cast his Eyes upon the little Emets.

Dabschelim was pleas'd with the old Mans Civility, and alighted from his Horse, to dis­course him; and after he had talk'd to him of diverse things, the King was going to take his leave of the old Man, who made him this Com­plement; Sir, said he, 'tis not for a poor Man as I am, to offer any refreshment to so Potent a Prince as You are; But I have a Present, if your Majesty pleases to accept it, which has descended to me from Father to Son, and which is appointed for you. This Present is a Treasure which I have here by me; if your Majesty thinks it worth your Acceptance, com­mand your Servants to seek for it. Dabschelim, hearing these Words, recounted his Dream to [Page 8]the good old Man, who rejoic'd extreamly to find that his intentions were conformable to the Will of God.

Upon this, the King commanded his Ser­vants to search for the Treasure round about the Cave, and in a little time they discover'd what they sought for; and shew'd the King several Chests and Coffers full of Gold, Sil­ver and Jewels. But among the rest of the Chests there was one of a smaller size which was bound about with several Bars of Iron, and environ'd with several Padlocks, the Keys of which were not to be found, notwithstanding all the Care and Diligence that was us'd to seek 'em out. This increas'd the Kings Curiosity: There must be somthing, said he, within this little Casket, much more precious than Jewels, since it is so strongly, and so heedfully Barr'd and Lockt. Presently a Smith was sent for, and the Casket being broken open, there was found within it another small Trunk of Gold, set all o­ver with precious Stones, and within that, another lesser Box, which the King order'd to deliver'd into his hands. So soon as this little Box was o­pen'd, he found therein a piece of white Sattin, upon which were written some Lines in the Syriac Language. Dabschelim was astonish'd at the Accident, and in great perplexity to know what the words might signifie. Some said, it was the name of the Owner of the Treasure: Others, that it was a Talisman or some Charm for the Preservation of the Treasure. But af­ter every one had deliver'd his Opinion, 'twas the Kings Pleasure that inquiry should be made for some Person who was able to Interpret the meaning of the Lines. At length after long [Page 9]search a Person was found who understood Foreign Languages, who after he had read the Writing, Sir, said he to the King, This Writing contains a great many Exhortations, which are these that follow.

I, King Houschenk, have dispos'd of this Treasure for the Great King Dabschelim, un­derstanding, by divine Revelation, Him to be the Person for whom it is design'd. But among the Precious Stones, I have conceal'd my last Will and Testament, by way of Instruction, and to let him know that it is not for Men of Reason and Understanding, to be dazl'd with the luster of glittering Treasures. Riches are but borrow'd Conveniences; which are to be repay'd to our Successours. The Pleasures of this World, that are so Charming, however are not Eternal This Testament is an Abridg­ment to regulate the Conduct of Kings, and he must be a Wise Prince who follows these In­structions. Who ever shall despise 'em and re­fuse to follow 'em, according to what is con­tain'd under these fourteen Heads, let him be assur'd of losing his Empire.

The First Admonition is, that he never discard his Domestic Servants at the Sollicitation of another. For he that is near the Person of a King shall never want persons who will be al­ways envious and jealous of his Happiness; who when they see that the King has any Affection for him, cease not by a thousand Calumnies to render him odious to his Master.

The Second is, that he never suffer in his Company Flatterers nor Backbiters, for they are always seeking occasions of Disturbance. [Page 10]'Tis better to Exterminate such People, than to let 'em be a trouble to Human Society.

The Third, that he always preserve his Mi­nisters and Grandees in a right Understanding one of another, to the end they may Unani­mously labour the Preservation of the State.

The Fourth, that he never trust to the submis­sions of his Enemies. The more affection they testifie, and the louder Protestations they make of their service, the more their Artifices are to be mistrusted. There is no relying upon the Friendship of an Enemy: He is to be shun'd, when he approaches with the Countenance of a Friend, as dry Wood shuns a well kindl'd Fire.

The Fifth, when a Man has once acquir'd what he has diligently sought after, he ought to preserve it carefully, seeing we have not every Day the same opportunity to gain it, and when we have not preserv'd what we have acquir'd, we have nothing left us but the Vexa­tion to have lost it. We cannot fetch the Ar­row back which we have once let fly, tho' we should eat our Fingers for madness.

The Sixth is, that we never ought to be two hasty in Business, but on the other side, before we put any enterprize in Execution, it be­hoveth us to weigh and Examin what we are are going to do. Things done in hast and with a precipitate Rashness, come to a Mis­chievous Conclusion. A Man may do that which was never done before, but he repents in vain who has done amiss.

The Seventh is, that He never despise Good Counsel and Prudence: If there be a necessity for him to make Peace with some Enemies, [Page 11]to deliver himself out of their Hands, let him do it without delay.

The Eighth is, to avoy'd the Company of Dissemblers, and never to hearken to their glozing Speeches; for seeing that in their Bo­soms they carry nothing but the Plants of Eni­mity, they can never bring forth the Fruits of real Friendship.

The Ninth is, to be merciful, and never to punish his Servants for a slight Fault committed through Infirmity. For a Merciful Prince up­on Earth, is an Angel in Heaven. They ought to consider the Weakness of Men, and in cha­rity and goodness 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.

The Tenth is, not to procure the Harm of any Person; on the other-side, 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 same will be Measur'd to you.

The Eleventh is, not to seek after any thing that may be contrary to his Dignity. There are many Persons who let alone their own Affairs, and intrude themselves into other peo­ples Business, and at last 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 so he forgot his own.

The Twelfth is, to be of a Mild and Affable Humour. Mildness in Society is like Salt in Victuals; as Salt seasons and gives a relish to our Meat, the other gives Content to every [Page 12]Body: The Sword of Iron is not so sharp as the Sword of Mildness; it vanquishes Invinci­ble Armies.

The Thirteenth is, to have Faithful Ser­vants, and never to admit of Knaves and De­ceivers. By this means the Kingdom will be safe, and the Kings Secrets will never be reveal'd.

The Fourteenth and the last is, never to be disturb'd at the Accidents of this World. A Man of Spirit and Resolution suffers all manner of Adversities, and relies upon the Providence of God. A Fool minds nothing but his Pastime and his Pleasures.

There are several Stories upon every one of these Heads, which if the King will be pleas'd to hear, he must go to the Mountain Serandib, which was the Mansion of our Father Abraham, and there all his Doubts and Difficult Questions will be unfolded, and his intentions accom­plish'd. God grant us Peace.

When the Learned Man had done reading, Dabschelim embrac'd him, and having receiv'd back again the piece of Sattin, which he took with great respect, he ty'd it about his Arm, say­ing at the same time, I was promis'd a Worldly Treasure, and I have found a Treasure of Se­crets. God has favour'd me with Plenty of his Blessings; and presently he order'd the Gold and Silver to be distributed to the Poor, to the end his Charity might be serviceable to procure the repose of King Houschenk's Soul; and ha­ving so 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 Serandib.

The next Morning by Sun-rise, Dabschelim sent for two of his Principal Ministers, in whom he had a great Confidence. To them he disco­ver'd his Dream, and what had afterwards be­fallen him, and told 'em he had a great desire to take a Progress to Serandib. I have a­long time, said he to 'em, taken this course to Advise with my Counsel before I undertook any of my Enterprises, and now I am willing to refer my self wholly to your Judgments, what you think fitting for me to do upon this Occasion. The two Ministers desir'd the Remainder of the Day and the Night follow­ing, to examin the Affair, and after due Con­sideration to return their Answer. Dabschelim granted their Request, and the next Day they came to wait upon the King, and every one being seated in their Places, so soon as the King had made 'em the sign to speak, the Grand Visir fell upon his Knees and thus began.

Sir, In my Opinion this Journey will be more painful than profitable, because that Person who undertakes long Journeys renounces at the same time all manner of Repose. Your Majesty is not Ignorant of the Dangers and Hazards to which the Roads are Subject. 'Tis not then for a Man of Discretion to change his Quiet and Ease for Labour and Disturbance; 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.

The Fable of the Travelling Pigeon.

SIR, said the Visir, there were two Pigeons that liv'd happily together in their Nests, safely shelter'd from all the injuries of the Wea­ther, and contented with a little Water and a few Tares. 'Tis a Treasure to live in a Desert when we enjoy the happiness of a Friend; and there is no loss in quitting for the sake of such a one, all other company in the World. But it seems, that Destiny has no other Business in this World, than to separate Friends. One of these Pigeons was call [...]d the Beloved; the o­ther, the Lover. One day the Beloved, having an eager desire to Travel imparted his design to his Companion. Must we be always, said he, confin'd to a Hole? For my part, I am re­solv'd to take a Tour about the World. Tra­vellers 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 stand in need of. If the Sword be never unsheath'd, it can never shew the Valour of the Person that Wears it; and if the Pen takes not it's Run through the Extent of a Page, it can never shew the Eloquence of the Author [...] [...]ses i [...]. The Heavens; by reason of their [...]tual Motion, exceed the Regions beneath [...]d the Earth is the solid Place for all [...]res [...] to tread upon, because it is Im­ [...]ble. If a Tree could remove it self from [...]lace to another, 'twould never be afraid [...]aw, nor the Wedge, nor would be [Page 15]expos'd to the ill usage of the Wood-mon­gers.

All this is true, said the Lover; but my dear Companion, you have never undergone the Fatigues of Travel, nor do you understand what it is to live in Foreign Countries. Tra­velling is a Tree of which the chiefest Fruit is Labour and Disquiet. If the Fatigues of Tra­velling are very great, Answer'd the Beloved, they are abundantly rewarded with the pleasure of seeing a thousand Rarities; and when people are accustom'd to Labour they never look upon it to be any Hardship.

Travelling, reply'd the Lover, is never de­lightful, but when you Travel in Company of your Friends: For when we are at a far Di­stance from 'em; besides that we are expos'd to the injuries of the Weather, we are griev'd to find our selves separated from the Persons that we Love: And therefore never leave the Place where you live at ease, nor forsake the Object of your dearest Affection.

If I find these Hardships unsupportable, reply'd the Beloved, I will return in a little time. Now after they had thus reason'd the Case to­gether, they went to their Rest, and meeting the next Morning, they took their Leaves of each other, and so parted.

The Beloved left his Hole, like a Bird that has made his escape out of a Cage; and nothing pleas'd him better than the Prospect of the Mountains and Gardens which he flew over; and when he was arriv'd at the foot of a little Hill, where several Rivolets shaded with love­ly Trees water'd the charming Meadows, he resolv'd to spend the Night in a Place that [Page 16]so effectually resembl'd a Terrestrial Paradise. But hardly had he betaken himself to his Re­pose upon a Tree, when the Air grew gloomy, and the swift Hurls of Lightning began to flash against his Eyes, while the Thunder rattled through the Plains at the same time. The Rain also, and the Hail caus'd the poor Pigeon to hop from Bow to Bow. In short, he spent the Night so ill, that he repented his having left his Comrade.

The next Morning, the Sun having dispers'd the Clouds, the Beloved departed with a resolu­tion to return Home, when a Sparrow-hawk, having a keen Appetite, and perceiv­ing our Traveller, pursu'd him upon the Wing. The Pigeon seeing him at a distance fell a trembling, and utterly despairing to see his Friend again, and no less sorry that he had not follow'd his Advice, protested that if ever he escap'd that Danger, he would never think of Trevelling more. In the mean time the Spar­row-hawk overtook him, and was just ready to seize him, and tear him in Peices, when a hungry Eagle whose Claws no other Bird of Prey could escape, lancing down with a full Stoop upon the Sparrow-hawk, Hold, said he, let me devour that Pigeon to stay my Stomach, till I find somthing else more Solid. The Sparrow-hawk no less Couragious than hungry, would not give way to the Eagle, and so the two Birds of Prey fell to Fighting one with another. In the mean time the Pi­geon escap'd, and perceiving a Hole so small that would hardly give entrance to a Tit­mouse, he made a shift to slip in, and so spent the Night in a World of fear and Trouble. [Page 17]By break of Day he got out again, but he was become so weak for want of Food that he could hardly fly. More then that, he had hardly recover'd himself from the fear he was in the day before, but as he was looking round a­bout him to see whether the Sparrow-hawk or the Eagle appear'd, he spy'd a Pigeon in a Field with a great deal of Corn scatter'd in the Place where he was feeding. The Beloved 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 himself caught by the Legs. For the Pleasures of this World are but Snares which the Devil lays for us.

Brother, said the Beloved to the Pigeon, we are both of one and the same Species; where­fore did not you inform me of this peice of Treachery, for then I should not have fallen into these Springes they have lay'd for us. To which the other Answer'd, Forbear this Lan­guage; there is no body can prevent his De­stiny; nor can all the Prudence of Man pre­serve him from inevitable Accident. There­upon the Beloved besought him to teach him some Expedient proper to free himself from the danger that threatned him. Poor inno­cent Creature, Answer'd the other, If I knew any means, you might be sure I would make use of it to deliver my self, that so I might not be the Occasion of surprizing 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, stop a little, that I may take Breath and rest my [Page 18]self: To whom the Mother, O Son without consideration, said she, seest 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 Assistance: At length therefore our Traveller, strengthen'd by his own De­spair, with much striving and long fluttering broke the Net, and taking the benefit of his unexpected good Fortune, bent his Flight to­ward his own Country: And such was his Joy for having escap'd so great a Danger, that he forgot his Hunger. However passing through a Village, and lighting upon a Wall that was over against a Field newly sown, a Country Man that was keeping the Birds from his Corn, perceiving the Pigeon, slung a Stone at him, dreaming nothing less than of the Harm that was so near him, and hit him so terrible a Blow, that he fell almost quite stun'd into a deep and dry Well, that was at the Foot of the Wall; so 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 sad Heart, and his Wing half broken. He wish'd himself a thousand times at home with his Friend; and the next Day so bestir'd him­self, that he got out of the Well and arriv'd at his own Hole.

The Lover hearing the fluttering of his Com­panions Wings, flew forth with a more than ordinary joy to meet him; but seeing him so weak and in so bad a condition, ask'd him the reason of it: Upon which the Beloved up and told him all his Adventures, protesting withal to stay at home and never to Travel more.

I have recited this Example to your Ma­jesty, to dissuade you from preferring the Inconveniences of Travelling, before the Re­pose that you enjoy. Wise Visir, said the King, I must acknowledge it a painful thing to Travel; but 'tis no less true, that there is great Profit, and useful Knowledge to be gain'd by it. Should a Man be always ty'd to his own Home or his own Coun­try, he would be depriv'd the Sight and En­joyment of an infinite Number of noble things. Your Falcons are valu'd because Princes frequently carry 'em upon their Fists, and for that they quit the lazy Life which they lead in their Nests. On the other side, Owls are contemn'd, because they always hide them­selves in Ruinous Buildings and Dark Holes, and delight in nothing but Retirement. The Mind of Man ought to fly a broad and sore like the Falcon, not to hide it self like the Owl. He that Travels renders himself ac­ceptable to all the World, and Men of Wit and Learning are pleas'd with his Conversation. 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 Nest, never flown a­broad, he would never have been so highly ad­vanc'd. Ʋpon which the Visir besought the King to recite that Fable, which he did in the follow­ing manner.

The Fable of the Falcon and the Raven.

THere were two Falcons which had built their Nests in a very High Mountain, from whence they flew every way round 'em to seek Food for their young ones. One day that they were flown abroad upon the same design, they stay'd from their Nests a little too long. For in that time one of the Young ones, very hungry, put his Head so far out of the Nest that he fell from the Top to the Foot of the Mountain; at what instant a Raven that happen'd to be in that part met with it. At first he took it for a Rat which some other Ra­ven had let fall, but finding by his Beak and his Talons that he was a Bird of Prey, he be­gan to have a kindness for it; and looking up­on himself as an Instrument ordain'd by Hea­v'n to save the Helpless Bird, he carry'd it to his own Nest, and bred it up with his own Young ones. Thus the Falcon grew every day big­ger and bigger, and coming at length to be of Age to make Reflexions, he said to himself, If I am Brother to these 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 these Me­ditations, Son, said the Raven to him, I have observ'd thee for some time to be very Sad and Pensive; I would fain know the Cause of it: If any thing grieve thee, conceal it not from me, for I will endeavour thy Relief and Con­solation. I know not the Reason my self, re­ply'd the Falcon; but I was resolv d to beg [Page 21]your Permission to Travel, in hopes thereby to dissipate my Melancholy. Oh Son, cry'd the Raven, thou art forming a Design i'thy Pate, that will create thee an infinite deal of Pains and Care. Travelling is a kind of Sea that swallows up all the World. People never Travel, unless it be either to get great Estates, or else because they cannot live Contented and Easie at Home: And neither of these two Reasons, thanks to Heaven, can have infus'd this Design into thy Brain, because thou want'st for nothing. Thou hast the Absolute Command over thy Brothers and Sisters: 'Tis a great Folly therefore in thee to quit an assur'd Repose at Home, to Ramble in search of Trouble and Disquiet in Foreign Countries. To this the Falcon, Sir, said he, what you tell me is very true, and I take it for a demon­stration of your Parternal Kindness; but I feel in my self somthing that persuades me that I lead a Life here in this Place, not worthy of my self. Then the Raven understood, that in despite of a Bad Education, persons Nobly descended are still the Masters of Sentiments becoming their Birth. The Raven would have put him upon other Discourse, and to that pur­pose, Son, said he, my Exhortations are per­suasions to Sobriety, but thofe High soaring Thoughts of thine, are only the Effects of A­varice. For know that whoever is not content­ed with what he has, can never be at quiet in his mind, and because I find thou art not sa­tisfy'd with thy Condition I am afraid lest what befel the Greedy and Ambitious Cat will befal thee also. The Story is this.

The Fable of the Greedy and Ambitious Cat.

THere was formerly an Old Woman ex­treamly Gaunt and Meagre, that liv'd in a little Cottage as dark and gloomy as a Fools Heart, and as close shut up as a Miser's Hand. She had a Cat that never saw any other than the likeness of Bread, never beheld the face of a Stranger, and was forc d to be contented with only smelling the Mice in their Holes, or to see the Prints of their Feets in the Dust; or if by some extraordinary lucky Chance she happen'd to catch a Mouse, she was like a Beg­gar that discovers a Treasure; her Visage and her Eyes were enflam'd with Joy, and that Booty serv'd her for a whole Week together; and out of the Excess of her Admiration, she would cry to her self, Heav'ns! Is this a Dream, or is it Real? Nevertheless, because the Cottage was still the Mansion of Famin for Cats, she still bewail'd her Wants. One day ready to dye for Hunger she got upon the ridge of her Enchanted Castle, and spy d from thence another Cat, that was stalking upon a Neigh­bours Wall like a Lion, and walking along as if she had been counting her Steps, and so Fat that she could hardly go. The Old Wo­man's Cat, astonish'd to see a Creature of her own Species, so Plump and so Large, with a loud Voice, Hark ye me, said she to her pursey Neighbour, You look as if you came from one of the Khan of Kathai's Feasts; I conjure ye, to tell me how you came to have your Skin so [Page 23]well stuft? At a Kings Table, reply'd the Fat Puss; I go to the House every Day about Din­ner time, and there I lay my Paws upon some good Morsel or other, which serves me till the next day. The Lean Cat enquir'd the Way to the House, and desir'd the Plump Cat to carry her one day along with her. Most willingly, said the Fat Puss, for thou art so Lean that I pity thy Condition. Upon this promise they parted; and the Lean Cat return'd to the Old Woman's Chamber, where she told her Dame the whole Story of what had befallen her. The Old Woman endeavour'd to dissuade her Cat from prosecuting her Design, admonishing her withal to have a care of being deceiv'd; for, said she, the Desires of the Ambitious are never to be satiated, but when their Mouths are stuff'd with the Dirt of their Graves. So­briety and Temperance are the only things that enrich a Man. I must tell thee, Poor silly Cat, that they who Travel to satisfie 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 For­tune.

But the Lean Cat had conceiv'd so fair an Idea of the Kings Table, that all the Old Womans Judicious Remonstrances enter'd in at one Ear and out at t'other, in short; she de­parted the next day with the Fat Puss to go to the Kings House; but before she got thither, her Destiny had laid a Snare for Her. For be­ing a House of good Chear, it was so haunted with Cats that the Servants had orders to kill all the Cats that came near it, by reason of a great Robbery committed in the Kings Lard­er [Page 24]the Night before by several Grey Malkins. However the old. Woman's Cat believing her self out of Danger, no sooner saw a dish of Meat unobserv'd by the Cooks, but she took Livery and Seizinof it; but as she was enjoying her self under the Dresser-board, and feeding heartily upon her stollen Morsels, one of the Testy Officers of the Kitchin, missing his Meat, and seeing where the Cat was Solacing her self with the Kings Mess, threw his Knife at the Cat with such an unlucky hand, that he stuck her full i the Breast. However, as a Cat has Nine Lives, the Cat made a shift to get away for all that. But, in her flight observing the Blood come streaming from her Wound, well said she, let me but escape this Accident, and if ever I quit my old Hold and my own Mice for all the Rarities i'the Kings Kitchin, may I lose all my Nine Lives at once.

I cite you this Example to shew you, that 'tis better for a Man to be contented with what he has, than to Travel in search of what our Ambition prompts us to. What you say, said the Falcon, is very true and very wholesome Advice; but 'tis for mean and low Spirits to confine themselves always to a little Hole. He that aspires to be a King, must begin with the Conquest of a Kingdom, and he that will meet a Crown, must go in Search of it. An Effeminate and Lazy Life agrees not with a Great Soul.

Thy Enterprize, reply'd the Raven, cannot so soon be put in Execution: before you can Conquer a Kingdom, you must make great Preparations. My Talons, reply'd the Falcon, [Page 25]are Instruments sufficient to bring about my Design. Did you never hear the Story of the Warrier, who by his single Valour became a King? Upon that the Raven requested his re­puted Son to let him hear it, and the Raven thus proceeded.

The Fable of the Poor Man that became a King.

IT being the Pleasure of Heaven to rescue from Misery a Man who liv'd in extream Poverty, God gave him a Son, who from his Infancy gave signal Signs, that he would one day come to be a Great Man. This Infant became a Blessing to the old Man's House, whose Wealth increas'd from Day to Day, from the time that the Child was Born. So soon as he could speak, he talk'd of nothing but Swords, Bows and Arrows. His Father sent him to School, and did all he could to infuse into him a good Relish of Learning; but he neglected his Book, and minded nothing but running at the Ring, and other Warlick Exercises with other little Children.

When he came to Years of Discretion, Son, said his Father to him, thou art now past the Age of Innocentcy, and in danger to fall into Disorder and Irregularity, if thou giv'st thy self over to thy Passions. But I intend to pre­vent that Accident by Marrying thee betimes. Dear Father, reply'd the young Stripling, for Heaven's sake refuse me not the Mistress which my Youthful Years already have made choice [Page 26]of. Where is that Mistress, presently reply'd the old Man, and what is her Condition? This is she, the Lad made answer, shewing his Fa­ther a very noble Sword; by Vertue of this it is, that I expect to be Master of a Throne. And having so said, the next Day he quitted his Father's House, and Travell'd in search of Op­portunities to signalize his Courage, and at length perform'd so many glorious Atchiev­ments, that he became a Puissant Monarch.

I have recited this Example, said the Falcon to the Raven, to the end you may understand that I find my self born to undertake Great En­terprizes: And I have a strange foreboding Spirit within me, that I shall prove no less fortunate then this Famous Warriour: And for this reason I will never quit my Design. When the Raven perceiv'd him so fix'd in his Resolu­tion, he consented to his putting it in Execution: Persuaded that so noble a Courage would never be guilty of base Actions.

The Falcon having taken his Leave of the Raven, and bid Farewel to all his pretended Brethen, left the Nest and flew away. At length he stopt upon a Mountain, and looking round about him, he spy'd a Partridge in the Fallow Grounds that made all the Neighbour­ing Hills resound with her Churring and Jouk­ing Nore. Presently the Falcon launc'd him­self upon her, and having got her in his Pounce, began to tear her. This is no Bad beginning, said He to himself, and tho' it were for no­thing else but to tast such delicate Food, 'tis better worth my Travelling then to lye Sleeping in a nasty Nest, and feed upon Carrion as my Brothers do. Thus he spent three Days in [Page 27]Caressing himself with delicate Morsels; but the fourth Day, being upon the Top of another Mountain, he saw 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 Fal­con in pursuit of a Heron. Upon that, prick'd forward by a Noble Emulation, he flies with all his Force, gets before the Falcon, and o­vertakes the Heron. The King admiring this Agility, commands his Falconers to make use of all their cunning to catch this Falcon, which by good luck they did. And in a little time he so entirely won the Affection of the King, that he did him the Honour to carry him usual­ly upon his Fist.

Had he always stay'd in his Nest, this Good Fortune had never befall'n Him. You see by this Fable, that it is no such unprofitable thing to Travel. It rouses the Genius of Stupid Peo­ple, and renders 'em capable of Noble At­chievments. Dabschelim having ended his Dis­course, the Visir, after he had made his sub­missions, and pay'd his Duty according to Cu­stom, came forward, and then addressing himself to the King, Sir, said He, what your Majesty has said is very true, but methinks it is not so convenient that a Great King should quit his repose for the Hardship of Travelling. Men of Courage, answer'd the King, delight in Labour and Fatigue. If Kings, who have Power, strip not the Thorns from the Rose-Bushes, the Poor can never gather the Roses; and till Princes have endur'd the Inconveniences of Campagnes, the People can never sleep in Peace. No Body can be safe in these Domini­ons, [Page 28]while thou seekest nothing but thy Ease. He that Travels meets with Rest, like the Leopard, who by his pains and his Diligence acquir'd what he wisht for. Upon that, the Visir besought the King to relate the Fable to his Slave.

The Fable of the Leopard and the Lyon.

IN the Neighbourhood to Bassora, there was a very lovely Island: In this Island grew a most delightful Wood, where pleasing Breezes whisper'd their Love-Stories to the Rusling Leaves; and it was Water'd with several Foun­tains, whence as many recreating Streams ran gently winding to every part. There, lodg'd a Leopard so Furious, that the most daring Lyo [...]s durst not approach within a League of his Habitation. He liv'd for several Years in Peace within his Island with a little Leopard that was his Minion. To whom, Son, said He, so soon as thou shalt be strong enough to oppose my Enemies, I will resign to thee the Care of Governing this Island, and retire into one Corner of it, where I will spend the remainder of my Days, without Trouble or Molestation. But D [...]th crost the Old Leopard's Design: He dy'd when he least dreamt of it, and the Young Leopard succeeded him. But the Ancient Ene­mies of the Old Leopard no sooner heard of his Death, and the Weakness of his Successor, but they enter'd into a League, and altogether in­vaded the Island. The Young Leopard find­ing himself unable to withstand such a number [Page 29]of Enemies, made his Escape into the Deserts, and there secur'd himself. In the mean time his Enemies having made themselves Masters of the Island, every one would command in Chief. Thus they fell out, and being Divided, the Business came to the Decision of a Bloody Battle, wherein the Lyon being Victor, drave all the rest of his Competitors out of his Terri­tories, and became the Sole and Peaceable Master of the Island.

Some Years after, the Leopard meeting the Lyons in a Forest, recounted to 'em his Mis­fortunes, and besought 'em to assist him in the Recovery of his Island. But the Lyons who knew the strength of the Usurper, refus'd their Assistance to the Leopard, and disdainfully, Poor silly Creature, said they, dost thou not understand that thy Island is under the Power of a Lyon so Redoubted, that the very Birds are afraid to fly over his Head? We advise thee rather, added they, to go and wair upon him, submissively to offer thy Services to him, and take thy time to revenge the Injuries he has done thee. The Leopard follow'd this Coun­sel, went to the Lyon's Court, and there intrud­ing himself into the Acquaintance of one of the Lyon's Domestics, and by a thousand Caresses [...]ngag'd him to give him an Opportunity to dis­course his Master. The Lyon found him to be a person of so much Merit, that he confer'd a very Noble Employment upon him in his Court, and in a little time the Leopard so in­sinuated himself into the Lyon's favour, that the Grandees of the Court began to grow Jealous of him. It happen'd one time, that some ex­traordinary Exigence of State call'd away the [Page 30]Lyon to some Place far distant from the Island; but the Lyon, being lazy, had no mind to stir out of his Wood at a time that the heat was so excessive: Which the Leopard perceiv­ing, He offer'd to undertake the Voyage himself, and after he obtain'd leave, he depart­ed with some others that follow'd him for Love, arriv'd at the place, dispatch'd his Business and return'd back to Court with such an unexpect­ed Speed, that the King admiring his Diligence, Well, said He, to those about him, this Leo­pard is one for my Turn; he contemns La­bour, despises Hardship, so 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 same time he sent for the Leopard, highly applaud­ed his Zeal, gave him the Government of all his Forests, and made him his Heir. Had not the Leopard undertaken this Journey, he had never regain'd his Island.

By this Discourse the Visir, judg'd it would be impossible to dissuade the King from the Resolution he had taken to Travel, and there­fore they said no more to hinder him. During his Absence he intrusted such Visirs in whom he had the Greatest Confidence with the Care of his Dominions, and charg'd 'em above all things to be Kind and Loving to the People. And thus Dabschelim being at Ease within himself, and in full Peace of Mind, set forward with some of his Courtiers for Serandib, where he arriv'd after a long and painful Journey. He spent three Days in walking about, that he might take a full View of that City; and then leaving his most Cumbersome Baggage behind [Page 31]him, as also some part of his Train, he cross'd the Mountain, which he found wonderful High and Steep, but environ'd with a great Number of pleasant Gardens and lovely Mea­dows. Upon which looking about him on e­very side, he perceiv'd a very Obscure Den or Cavern, which the Inhabitants of the Mountain told him was the Retirement of a certain Her­mite, call'd Bidpay, that is to say, the Friend­ly Phisitian; that some of the Indian Grandees call'd him Pilpay; that he was a Person of Pro­found Knowledge; that he was retir'd from the World in contempt of the Hurrey and Va­nity of it, and pleas'd himself in leading a Soli­tary Life. This did but increase Dabschelim's Curiosity, who therefore went himself to the Mouth of the Cave. Pilpay therefore, suspect­ing his Design, invited him in; and the King being enter'd, the Old Bramin Pilpay besough [...] to rest himself, and ask'd him the reason of his taking so long a Journey. The King, who had something of a Prophetic Apprehension, that he should meet with what he sought for in his Con­verse with the Old Man, recounted to him his Dream, the Discovery of the Treasure, and what was contain'd in the Piece of White Sattin. But then the Bramin smiling, told the King, that he lookt upon those to be a happy People who liv'd under his Reign, and that he could not sufficienly 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 small Cabinet of Precious Knowledge, he charm'd Dabschelim with his Admirable Discourses. They talk'd together concerning Houschenks Letter: And [Page 32] Dabschelim Read the Admonitions which it con­tain'd, one after the other. Pilpay unfolded 'em to the King, and the King engrav'd 'em in his Memory.

CHAP. I. That we ought to avoy'd the Insinuations of Flatterers, and Backbiters.

SAid Dabschelim to Pilpay, The first Admo­nition is, that Kings ought never to listen to false Reports and Flatterers, which occasion nothing but Misfortunes, and always bring an ill End to all such as Hearken to 'em. Whoever cry'd the Bramin, observes not this Command, must needs be Ignorant of the Fable of the Lyon and the Ox. Upon which, the King Desirous to hear it, Pilpay continu'd in the following Manner.

The Fable of a Merchant and his Leud Children.

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 Di­stemper would not long permit him to Live, call'd his Sons together, who were very de­bauch'd, and wasted his Estate in Riot and Dis­order. Sons, said He, I know you may be in some measure Excus'd for thus consuming [Page 33]my Estate, not knowing what it cost to get it. But know, that Riches should be only properly Instrumental to acquire the Blessings of Heav'n and Earth. There are three things that all Men labour for in this World with more then Ordinary vehemence. The first is, that they may enjoy all the Conveniences of Life: And these are People who are only addicted to In­temperance, and abandon themselves to sensual Pleasures. The second is, to obtain High Dig­nities and Preferments: These are the Ambiti­ous, who only love to command and be Ad­mir'd. The third is, to acquire Heavenly Blessings; and to take delight in doing good to our Equals: These deserve high Applauses: But there's no way to attain this last End, but by the means of Wealth well got. Now seeing that nothing that we seek for in this World is to be had without Mony, that which can pro­cure us what we search for must be first of all acquir'd; but they who meet an Estate already got to their Hands, know not the Trouble of getting it: And that's the reason they consume it so Prodigally in a little time. Therefore, Dear Children, give over this Irregular Life, take a care of your selves, and rather endeavour to increase your Estates, then to wast 'em idly. To which, Father, said the Eldest Son, you command us to acquire, but Acquisition de­pend's only upon Fortune. I know well we shall never want what is destin'd us, tho' we we should never stir a Foot to obtain it: On the other side, we shall never be Masters of what is not ordain'd us, tho' we should torment our selves almost to Death. I Remember an old Proverb: Whenever I fled what Destiny had [Page 34]Allotted, I always met with it; but when ever I sought for that which never was appointed for me, I never could find it. This is clearly to be seen by the Fable of the Kings two Sons; of which, one discover'd his Fathers Treasure, and gain'd the Kingdom with little Trouble, while the other lost it, tho' he did all he could to pre­serve it. The Father would needs hear the Fable, which his Son rehears'd as follows.

The Fable of a King and his two Sons.

IN the Country of Alès, there liv'd a King who had two Sons, both covetous, yet given to Debauchery. The King finding himself Ex­treamly Old, and considering the Humour of his two Sons, was afraid lest after his Death, they should dissipate in Idle Expences the vast Trea­sure which he had heap'd together, and resolv'd to hide it. With this design he went to a Religious Hermit who had retir'd from the World, and in whom he had a very great Confidence. By the Counsel of this Hermite the Treasure was Buried in the Hermitage so Privately that no Body knew any thing of. This done, the King made his Will, which he put into the Hermits hands, with these farther Orders at the same Time: I charge you, said He, to reveal this Treasure to my Children, if after my Death you see 'em in the Distresses of Poverty. It may be, added the King, that when they have suffer'd a little Hardship, they will become more prudent in their Expences then hitherto they have been.

The Hermit having promis'd all Fidelity in the Observance of the King's Commands, the King return'd to his Palace, and in a short time after dy'd; nor did the Hermit long survive him: So that the Treasure lay conceal'd in the Hermitage. The King being thus Dead, the two Sons could not agree about the Succes­sion, which occasion'd a Bloody War between 'em: And the Eldest who was the Strongest utterly Despoil'd his Younger Brother of all that he could preten'd to. The Young Prince thus depriv'd of his Inheritance, fell into such a deep Melancholy that he resolv'd to quit the World. To that purpose he left the City; and calling to mind the Kindness between his Fa­ther and the Hermit, there is no other way, said he to himself, but to find out this Honest Man, that I may learn of him to live as he does, and end my life in his Company. Com­ing to the Hermitage, he found that the Her­mit was Dead; and thereupon he made choice of his Retirement for his poor Habitation.

Now there was in this Hermitage a certain Well, which had no Water: So that he let himself down to the Bottom, to try whether he could find what it was that stopt the Water. But instead of meeting what he lookt for, he found his Father's Treasure; for which he was very thankful to Heaven, and took up a Reso­lution, to lay out his Mony with more Mode­ration then he had done before.

On the other side his Brother sate securely Re­velling upon this Throne without any care of his People or his Army; imagining with himself, that his Father's Treasure was hid in the Pa­lace, as he had told him upon his Death Bed. [Page 36]One Day, being at War with a Neighbouring Prince, he was oblig'd to have recourse to his pretended Treasure. But he was amaz'd after he had sought a long time and found nothing; which because it quite disabl'd him from raising a powerful Army, put him into a very great fit of Melancholy. However making a Vertue of Necessity, he rais'd what Force he could, and March'd out of the City to meet and encounter his Enemy. The Battle was obstinate, and the King and his Enemy were both Slain; so that the two Armies enrag'd at the loss of their Lead­ers, fell to Butcher each other with equal Fury; till at length the Generals being agreed together, that it would be their better way to chuse 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 set him upon the Throne.

This Fable shews, that it is better to rely upon Destiny and Providence, then for Men to Torment themselves about the Acquisition of a thing that was never ordain'd 'em. So soon as the Young Man had ended his Fable, All this is very true, said the Father, but all Effects have their Causes, and he who relies upon Pro­vidence without considering 'em, had need to be instructed by the ensuing Fable.

The Fable of the Derwich, the Falcon, and the Raven.

A Derwich, passing through a Wood, and considering the Wonders of God and Nature, spy'd a Falcon that held a Peice of Flesh in his Beak, and which hovering about a Nest, tore the Flesh into Bits, and gave it a young Raven that lay bald and Featherless in the Nest. The Derwich admiring the Bounty of Gods Providence, in a Rapture of Admi­ration, Behold this poor Bird, said He, that is not able to see out Sustenance for himself, is not however forsaken of God, who spreads the whole World like a Table, where all Creatures, Friends and Foes have still their Food and Sub­sistence ready provided for 'em. He extends his Liberality so far, that the Griffin also finds wherewith to Liye upon the Moun­tain of Caf. Why then am I so greedy, and wherefore do I ran to the ends of the Earth, and Plough up the Ocean for Bread? Is it not bet­ter that I should hence forward confine my self in repose to a little Corner, and abandon my self to Fortune. Upon this he retir'd to his Cell, where without putting himself to any farther Trouble for any thing in this World, he re­main'd three Days and three Nights without Victuals. At last, Servant of Mine, said God to him, Know thou, that all things in this World have their Causes: And tho' my Provi­dence can never be limited, my Wisdom however requires, that Men shall make use of the Means that I have ordain'd 'em. If thou [Page 38]wouldst imitate any one of the Birds, imitate the Falcon that feeds the Raven, and not the Raven that lies a sluggard in his Nest, and ex­pects his Food from another.

This Example shews us, that we are not to lead Idle and Lazy Lives under the Pretence of Providence. Then the second Son taking upon him to speak, Sir, said He to his Father, you advise us to Labour, and get Estates and Riches, but when we have heap'd up a great deal of Wealth, what shall we do with it? 'Tis easie to acquire Wealth, reply'd the Father, but a difficult thing to expend it well, and to pre­serve it. Riches many times prove very fatal, as may be seen by the following Fable.

The Fable of a Country-Man, and several Rats.

A Certain Husband-man had a Barn full of Corn close lockt up, not far from which liv'd a Rat, that made Holes on every side of it, on purpose to get a Lively-hood; and he Labour'd so long that he got free Ingress into the Barn. When he saw himself Master of this vast Treasure away he ran, full of Joy, and gave Notice of it to several other Rats his Neighbours; who presently fllockt about him, and made him a thousand Offers of their Ser­vice, Scraping and Cringing to him, and sooth­ing him in all the Excursions of his Fantastic Humour. The Fool taking all this for ready Mony, grew very proud and Stately, as be­lieving himself to be some Extraordinary Per­son; and never considering that this Magazine [Page 39]was not to last always, he began to play the Prodigal at the Husband-Mans cost, treating his Companions and Flatterers every Day at Rack and Manger. But there happen'd at the same time so terrible a Famine, that the Poor cry'd out for Bread while the Rat lay wallow­ing in Plenty. The Husband-man now be­lieving it his time to make the Best of his Corn, open'd his Barn Door; but finding a more then ordinary Consumption of his Store, he fell in­to a Passion, and presently remov'd what he had to another Place. The Rat, who lookt upon himself to be sole Master of Misrule in the Barn, was then asleep but his Parasites, were a­wake, and seeing the Husband-man go and come, misdoubted there was somthing in the Matter; thereupon they betook themselves every one to flight, leaving the poor cully'd Rat asleep. This is the Practice of your Smell-feast Friends, while you keep a plentiful Table they are your most Humble and Obedient Servants, but when the Accommodation fails, like Tartars, they seek for other Pastures.

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 hast, to know the Cause, which he soon found out; for going to the Barn and finding all was gone, and not so much left as would suffice him for that Day, he fell into such a deep Despair, that he beat out his Brains against the next Wall, and so ended his Days. This Example shews us that we ought to Live according to our In­come.

The second Brother having thus concluded, the youngest taking his Turn. Father, said He, [Page 40]when we have acquir'd this Wealth you speak of, what is then to be done? This Wealth, re­ply'd the Father, is to be made use of, upon all Occasions; but more especially for the Con­veniencies of Life, according to the Directions of Temperance and Justice. In the first Place, your Expences ought not to be such, as afterwards to be repented of, or to be condemn'd as the Wast of Prodigality. In the second Place, no Man ought by his Avarice to render himself hateful to the World.

The Father having thus Exhorted his Child­ren to follow his Counsel, they betook them­selves all three to particular Callings, the Eldest turn'd Merchant, and Travell'd into Foreign Countries: Among other Goods he had two Oxen; both the Calves of the same Cow, and both very fair and beautiful, the one was call'd Cohotorb, and the other Mandeb [...]. The Mer­chant took great care to feed up these Oxen; but because his Journey was long, they grew to be Weak and Lean. In the Road they met with a Quagmire, into which Cohotorb [...] fell, and stuck so fast, that the Merchant had much ado to get him out again. However Cohotorb [...] was so Weak that being hardly able to stand, the Merchant was forc'd to leave him behind under the care of a certain Person till he could recover strength to continue his Journey: But the Man, after he had kept him all alone for three Days in the Desert, grew weary of his Charge, left Cohotorb to feed by himself, and sent the Mer­chant word that his Ox was Dead. In a little time after Mandeb dy'd of hard labour, and Cohotorb behaving recover'd his Flesh, began to ramble from one Place to another: And com­ing [Page 41]into a Meadow that pleas'd him very well, he stay'd thre for some time, living in Ease and Plenty; so that he became fair as and plump as ever he was before.

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 several other Lyons, who believ'd him to be the most 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 most Dreadful Terrour seiz'd him. Nevertheless, because he was asham'd to discover his Fears to his Courti­ers, he pretended an unwillingness to stir out of his Palace. Among the rest of his Domestic Servants he had two Foxes that were as Cun­ning as two Broakers, one of which was call'd Kalila, and the other Damna; and the latter, which was the Male, was more Proud and more Ambitious then the Former. One Day, said He to his Wife, What dost thou think of the King, that he dares not walk abroad as he was want to do? To whom Kalila answer'd, why do you ask me such a Question? 'tis sufficient for you to live peaceably under his Protection with­out 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 same Misfortune that befel the Ape.

The Fable of the Carpenter and the Ape.

AN Ape sate staring upon a Carpenter who was cleaving a Piece of Wood with two Wedges, which he put into the Cleft one after another, as the split open'd. The Car­penter 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; so that the Wood closing again, held the Poor Monkey by the two Fore Feet, so fast, 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.

This Fable instructs us, that we ought not to meddle with other People's Business. However, reply'd Damna, 'tis not for those that serve Kings, to be Idle: They must be always endeavouring to advance themselves. Know you not the Fable of the two Com­panions, one of which by his Industry, ob­tain'd a Crown: The other, being sloath­ful and faint-hearted, fell into Extream Mi­sery.

The Fable of the two Travellers, and the Lyon carv'd in White Stone.

THere were two Friends in Former Times who made a Resolution never to leave each other. They always Travell'd together, and one Day among the rest, they came to a lovely Fountain at the Foot of a Hill; and the Place was so delightful, that they resolv'd to rest themselves by the Purling Stream. Af­ter they were well refresh'd, they began to look about 'em, and please their Eyes with what they could discover most Rare and Curious in so pleasant a Place. At length they cast their Eyes upon a White Stone, that contain'd the following Words Written in Blew Let­ters.

Travellers, We have prepar'd you an Excel­lent Banquet for your Welcome. But you must throw your selves boldly into this Foun­tain, and Swim to the other side, where you shall meet with a Lyon carv'd in White Stone, which you must take upon your Should­ers, and without stopping run with it to the Top of younder Mountain, never fearing the Wild Beasts that will surround you, nor the Thorns that will prick your Feet; for as soon as you are got off the Hill, you will be in pos­session of great Felicity: If you cease going for­ward, you shall never come to your Journeys End, nor shall the Slothful ever attain to what they desire.

Then Ganem, for that was the Name of one of the two Companions, Brother said He, to [Page 44] Salem, for so was the other call'd, here is a Means prescribed us that will put an end to all our Pains and Travel, let us take Courage, and try whether what this Talisman contains be True or False. Dear Friend, reply'd Salem, 'tis not for a Man of Sense to give Credit to an Idle Writing, and under Pretence of great tho' uncert Gain to throw himself into Evi­dent danger. Friend, reply'd Ganem, They who have never so little Courage, contemn danger, to make themselves happy; there is no gathering the Rose, without being prickt by the Thorns. However, answer'd Salem, we are not to attempt such Enterprizes, the End of which we know not as well as the Begin­ning: And thus we are not to throw our selves into this Fountain, that seems to be a Kind of an Abyss, from whence it may not be so easie 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 Whimsey; and tho' it should be real, perhaps when you have cross d this little Lake, the Lion of Stone may prove so heavy, that you may not be able to run with it without Stopping to the Top of the Mountain. But supposing all this were easie for you to perform, when you have done what ever is by you to be done, you know not what will be the Issue of your care and trouble. For my part I will be no sharer with you in dangers of this Enterprize, and will endeavour also to dissuade you from it. No Persuasions, reply'd Ganem, shall make me alter my Resolution: And there­fore if you will not follow me, Dear Friend, at least be pleas'd to see me venture. Salem, seeing him so Resolute, cry'd out, Dear Friend, [Page 45]you have refus'd my Admonitions, and I have not the power to stay and be a Witness of your Ruin; and so taking his leave he set forward upon his Journey.

On the other side Ganem went to the Brink of the Fountain, resolving to perish'd or to win the Prize. He found it deep, but strengthen'd by his Courage, he Swam to the other side. When he had recover'd the dry Land, he rested himself a while; and then lifting up the Lion with with all his Might, without stopping he ran with it to the Top of the Mountain. From thence he had the Prospect of a very fair City; but as he was viewing it, there issu'd from the Lion of Stone such a Terrible Thundering Noise, that the Mountain and all the Places round a­bout it Trembl'd, as if shaken by some suddain Earth-quake. This Noise no sooner reach'd the Ears of the Inhabitants of the City, but they came all to Ganem, who was not a little a­stonish'd to see 'em. Presently some that seem'd to be Superiour to the rest in Quality and degree accoasted him with great Respect and Ceremo­ny; and after they had harangu'd him with many large Encomiums, they set him upon a lovely Horse most sumptuously Caparison'd. After this, they Conducted him to the City, where they wash'd him with Rose-water, made him put on the Royal Robes and proclaim'd him King of all the Country. He desir'd to un­derstand the reason of his Advancement: To which they answer'd, that the Learned Men of the Kingdom had by vertue of a Talisman so charm'd the Fountain which he had cross't, and the Lion which he carry'd to the Top of the Mountain, that when their King Died, and [Page 46]that any one were so adventurous as to Expose himself to the Hazards which he had done, the Lion roard out so Prodigiously, that the Inha­bitants hearing the Noise went forth in search of the Person to make him their King. This Custom, pursu'd they, has been of long Conti­nuance, and since the Lot is fall'n upon your Majesty, your Sovereignty is absolute among us. Nor was Ganem a little glad to see his Courage so well recompenc'd.

I have rehears'd this Fable to you, to let you understand, that there is no tasting Pleasure without Trouble. For which reason it is that I am resolv'd never to give over till I am one of the Greatest Lords in the Court. Kalila ask'd him what Means he intended to make use of to attain his Ends. The Lion, answer'd Damna, seems to be seiz'd with Astonishment, and I in­tend to cure him of his Disquiet. How canst thou presume, cry'd Kalila, to give Counsel to a King, thou that never wert accostum'd to the Cabals of Princes? Persons of Wit, re­ply'd Damna, never want Industry to accom­plish their Designs. One Day, a Handicraft Trades-Man, who by his Vertue had Gaind a Kingdom, receiv d a Letter from a Neighbour­ing Prince, wherein he Expostulated with the New King after this manner, Thou that didst never handle before any other then a Chizzle or a Saw, how darst thou presume to Govern a King­dom? To which the Carpenter return'd for Answer, he that gave me Wit enough to Guide a Saw, will also give me no less Judgment to Govern an Army. Kings, reply'd Kalila, do not always cherish with their favours those who have Wit and Merit, but only their Oldest Ser­vants, [Page 47]and such as have done the State Impor­tant Service; and seeing therefore you are but a new Commer, and indeed none of the most use­ful of the Kings Servants, what can you pre­tend to? I hope, reply'd Damna, in a short time to have a much more considerable Employment then I have at Present: For I am not ignorant that they who aspire to be admitted into the Cabinets of Princes, ought to have five parti­cular Qualifications: Never to be in Passion; to avoid Pride; not to be Covetous; to be sincere; and never to be astonish d at the Chan­ges of Fortune. Very good, reply'd Kalila, sup­pose you might be the Kings Favorite, what Vertues would you practise to gain his Esteem? I would serve him, reply'd Damna, with a perfect Fidelity, I would punctually obey him; and whatever the King does, I will al­ways believe his Intentions Good. I will per­suade him to do Good, by laying before him the Benefit he will receive thereby, and I will dissuade him from doing what ever may be prejudicial to himself or his Kingdom. I find thee, said Kalila, resolv'd to go on with this design; but have a care what thou dost; for 'tis a dangerous thing to serve a Prince. Wise Men say, that three sorts of Persons are de­priv'd of Judgment: They who are ambitious of Preferments in the Courts of Princes; They who make use of Poison, to shew the Excellency of a Remedy; and they who entrust 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 Beasts: 'Tis a difficult thing to accost 'em, but more dangerous to Inhabit [Page 48]em. Kings are morever compar'd to a wide 'Ocean, wherein Sea-faring People either make their Fortunes or perish. I am not Ignorant, reply'd Damna in his turn, that Kings resem­ble Fire, which will burn those that approach too near it; but he who is afraid to adventure, will never come to any thing.

After this Discourse, Damna went to wait upon the Lion, and made him a profound Re­verence. Presently the Lion ask'd who he was. To which some of his Courtiers reply'd, he was such a one, and that his Father had a long time serv'd his Majesty. Oh said the King, I now remember him—then turning to Damna, Well Friend, where do you Live? — I supply my Fathers Place in your Majesties Houshold, reply'd Damna, but till now I never durst presume to appear in your Majesties pre­sence with the Offer of my service. I hope your Majesty will not disdain the Oblation of my faithful Intentions tho' I am the meanest and unworthiest of your Servants. Dry Wood is sometimes as much esteem'd in this World as the Rosebush or the Fruit-tree. The Lion was charm'd with Damna's Eloquence, and look­ing upon his Courtiers, Wit, said He, resem­bles Fire, that will shew it self, tho' Cover'd with Ashes. Damna was so 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, said Damna, I beseech your Majesty to let me Know the Cause of your Retirement, for with­in these few Days I have observ'd your Majesty has not been so chearful as you were wont to be. Fain would the Lion have conceal d his [Page 49]fear at first; but hearing Chotorb [...] Bellow at the same time, it so disorder'd his Countenance, that he found himself constrain'd to tell Damna, that the terrible Noise of the Beast, whoever he were, was the cause of the Disturbance. I ima­gin, said the King, that the Body of the Beast which I hear Bellow so Dreadfully, must be proportionable to the sound of his Voice; and that being so, 'tis a madness for us to tarry any longer in these Woods. Is this all that trou­bles your Majesty, said Damna? Nothing else, answer'd the Lion. Sir, reply'd Damna, 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 so much the greater Resolution. Those Creatures that make the loudest Noises are not always the Biggest nor the Strongest. A Crane as big as he is, has neither strength nor Cou­rage to encounter the weakest Falcon: And he that suffers himself to bedeluded by Bulk of Body may be deceiv'd as the Fox was.

The Fable of the Fox and the Hen.

SIR, Pursu'd Damna, there was a certain Fox in a Wood who was eagerly searching about for somthing to appease his Hunger, and at length he spy'd a Hen, that was busily scratching the Earth and picking up the Worms at the Foot of a Tree. Upon the same Tree also hung a Drum which made a Noise every time the Branches, being mov'd by the Violence of the Wind, beat upon it. Now the Fox was just going to fling himself upon the Hen, at what time he heard the Noise of the Drum. Oh ho, quoth he, looking up, are ye there, I'll be with ye by and by, that Body must cer­tainly have more flesh then a sorry Hen: And so saying, he clamber'd up the Tree, while the Hen made her Escape. When he had seiz'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 instead of Flesh and Gristles, and a mear Hollowness instead of good Guts and Garbidge, then fetching a deep sigh, unfortunate Wretch, cry'd He, what a Delicate Morsel have I lost, for the shew of a larger Belliful!

I have recited this Example, to the end your Majesty may not be terrify'd with the sound of the Bellowing Noise you hear, because loud and strenuous; and if you please I'll go and see what sort of Creature it is. To which the Li­on consented; but when Damna was gone, he [Page 51]repented his having sent him away. For, said the King to himself, 'tis a great Error in a Prince to discover his secrets to ten sorts of Persons; 1. To those whom he has ill us'd without a Cause. 2. To those who have lost their Estates or their Honour at Court. 3. To those who have been Degraded from their Em­ployments without any hopes of ever being re­stor'd to 'em again. 4. To those that love no­thing but Sedition and Disturbance. 5. To those that see their Kindred or Acquaintance in Pre­ferments from whence themselves have been Excluded. 6. To such as having committed any Crime have been more severely Punish'd then others who have transgress'd in the sameman­ner. 7. To such as have done good Service, and have been ill rewarded. 8. To Enemies re­concil'd by Constraint. 9. To those who be­lieve the Ruin of the Prince will turn to their Advantage. 10. To those that believe them­selves less Oblig'd to their Sovereign then to his Enemy. Therefore I have done impru­dently in discovering my secrets to Damna.

While the King was making these Reflexi­ons to himself, Damna return'd, and told him, that the Beast which made such a Noise was no other then an Ox, that was feeding in a Meadow without any other design then to spend his Days lazily in Eating and Sleeping, Moreover, added Damna, if your Majesty thinks it convenient, I will so order the matter, that he shall be glad to come and enroll himself in the Number of your Servants. The Lion was extreamly pleas'd with Damna's Proposals, and made him a sign to go and fetch the Ox into his Presence. Thereupon, Damna went [Page 52]immediatly to Chotorbe, and ask'd him from whence he came, and what Accident had brought him into those Quarters? In answer to which, when Chotorbe had satisfy'd Damna's Curiosity, then Damna, Friend, said He, here lives a Lion not far off, who is the King of all the Beasts of the Country, and he has given me orders to conduct thee to his Palace. If thou wilt follow me, I promise thee the favour of being admitted into his Service and Protecti­on; but if thou refusest to go a long with me, know that thou hast not many Days to live in this Place. So soon as the Ox did but hear the Word Lion pronounc'd, he trembl'd for fear, and made Damna this answer, If thou wilt assure me that he shall do me no harm I will fol­low thee. Damna Swore to him, and Chotor­be upon the Faith of his Oaths consented to go and wait upon the Lion: upon which Dam­na ran before to give the King Notice of Cho­torbe's coming; who arriving soon after, made a profound Reverence to the King, who re­ceiv'd him with great Kindness, and ask'd him what Occasion had brought him into his Domi­nions? In answer to which when the Ox had recounted to him all his Adventures: Remain here, said the Lion, and enjoy thy Peace; for I permit my Subjects to live all within my Do­minions, in repose and tranquillity. The Ox having return'd his Majesty Thanks for his kind Reception promis'd to serve him with a Real Fidelity. And at length Chotorbe insinuated himself in such a Manner into the Lion's Favour, that he gain'd his Majesties Confidence, and be­came his most Intimate Favourite.

When Damna saw that Chotorbe was in greater Esteem at Court then himself, and that he was the only Depositary of the King's Secrets, it wrought in him so desperate a Jeal­ousy, that he could not take his Rest, but was ready to Hang himself. Presently he went and made his Moans to Kalila; Oh my dear Wife, said He, I have taken a World of Care and Pains to gain the King's Favour, and all to no purpose: I brought into his Presence the Object that Occasion'd all his Disturbances, and that very Ox is now become the Sole Cause of my Disquiet. To which Kalila: You ought not to complain of what you have done, or at least you ought to blame no Body but your self: For there is now befallen thee, what for­merly befel a Monk.

The Fable of the Monk that left his Convent.

A Certain King presented a Certain Monk with a very Rich Habit; of which a Cun­ning Thief having Notice, made use of a very pleasant stratagem to cheat him of it. He went to the Monk in his Convent, and pre­tended an earnest desire to serve him as long as he liv'd. The Monk overjoy'd that he had got a Novice that seem'd to be so piously in­clin'd, most willingly receiv'd him; but the Thief taking the first Opportunity he could, stole the Habit and carry'd it a way. The Monk missing at once both his rich Cloaths and his Novi [...], mistrusted the Business, and so leaving the Convent, he resolv'd to go to the City in search of the Robber. As he Travel'd upon the Road, he met with two Rams that were very furiously Encountring one another, and Enter-chang'd such desperate Horn-jurs, that the Blood ran down on every side. A Fox, who was a Witness of the Combate, lick'd up the Blood: But as he was licking he receiv'd such a Terrible Jurr o'the Head from one of the Rams, that he dy'd upon the Spot.

The Monk stopt a good while to behold this Accident, and stay'd so long, that when he came to the City, the Gates were shut. How­ever 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 House. The [Page 55]Monk very readily accepted her Kindness, went into the House, and put himself into a Corner to say is usual Prayers. This Wo­man, to tell ye the truth, was a Baud, and kept a Bevy of Pretty Girls, whose Favours she Sold to the Sparks of Venus. Among these Girls there was one among the Rest, who was so violently belov'd by a young Gentleman, and of whom he was so jealous that he would ad­mit no Rival; which they, who were Ena­mour'd of her as well as himself, could as lit­tle brook, and therefore they persuaded the young Girl to rid herself of his Company. Now in regard she fear'd him more then she lov'd him, she listen'd to the persuasions of her other Lovers, made her jealous Tyrant Drunk, and the same Night blew a venomous Powder up into his Nostrils. But this Powder forcing the young Man to Sneez, the strength of the ster­nutation blew it back again into the Courtesans Mouth; so that not being able to prevent the going of the Powder down her Throat, she felt the Effects of her own Poison and dy'd the same Hour. The poor Monk was astonish'd to see all this, and he thought the Night extreamly long.

So soon as Day came, he made hast to leave so dangerous a Place, and took a Lodging at a Shooe-makers House, who receiv'd him with open Arms, and who being invited to a Feast from which it was impossible for him to absent himself, recommended however to his Family, the care and good Usage of his Guest.

At the same time the Cordwainers Wife had a Gallant, that was handsome and good Hu­mour'd [Page 56]and they met frequently together by the means of a Surgeons Wife, who was so cunning a Sollicitrix of Lechery, that she could have reconcil'd Fire and Water into an Amo­rous Conjunction, and withal had her Tongue so well hung, and was so perfect in the Art of Wheedling, that she would have made you believe a Stone was made of Wax. Now whenever the Shooe-makers Wife knew her Husband was safe abroad, she made use of this Mistress Go-between, to give Notice to her Paramour of her Husband's Absence; and now believing she had an Opportunity, sent her a­way forthwith to tell her Gallant the good News. Away comes he immediatly upon the first Intimation; but by what Ill luck I know not, as he was knocking at the Door, the Shooe­maker arriv'd, and finding the Man, whom he already suspected to be the Grafter of his Forhead, had had such good Intelligence, in he went without saying a Word, beat his Wife, ty'd her to a Post and went to Bed.

While the Cord-wainer was asleep, 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, Sister said She, why do you let the young Man stay so long at the Door? — Go and fetch him in. To whom the Disappointed Bond woman, with a low voice, I believe said She, some malicious Demon sent my Husband back in such a Rage, that he was not satisfy'd with al­most breaking my Bones, but he has here ty'd me to a Post. Now you would do a Charita­ble Act, if you would but unbind me, and stand in my place, while I go and beg pardon [Page 57]of my Dear Friend for having made him stay so long; which done, I'll come back and be ty'd as I was.

The Surgeons Wife, mov'd with Compassion made no Scruple to put herself in the Room of her distressed Neighbour, who went to keep her Word with her Gallant. The Monk who had heard all this Discourse, no longer accus'd the Cordwainer of Cruelty, nor thought him in the wrong for beating his Wife, as he had done before.

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 answer; which put the Shooe-maker into such a fury, that he leapt out of the Bed, took a Knife in his Hand, and as he thought, cut off his Wifes Nose, and holding it in his hand, with a flouting Tone, here, said He, here's a Present for you to send to your Wagtail in a Corner.

The poor Surgeons Wife durst not so much as sigh for fear; however, quoth she to her self, this is very hard luck, for me to suffer what the Shooe-makers Wife deserves, while she is toying and dallying in the Arms of her Lover.

Upon her return the Shooe-maker's Wife was very much surpriz'd to find her faithful Help­meet without a Nose: She beg'd her a thou­sand Pardons, unbound her, and ty'd herself in her Place, while the Surgeon's Mate return'd Home, carrying her Nose in her hand.

Some Hours after, when she thought her Husband might hear her, with her hands lift­ed up to Heaven, Most powerful Deity, cry'd the Shooe-makers Wife, who know'st the Se­crets of all Hearts, thou know'st that my Hus­band [Page 58]has abus'd me without a Cause, let him see that I am a Woman of Reputation, by remov­ing from my face the deformity with which his Cruelty had defac'd it, and restoring me my Nose as it was before. The Shooe-maker hearing those words, Vile Strumpet, cry'd He, what wicked Prayer art thou making? Know­est thou not that the Prayers of Harlots never reach the Throne of Heav'n? Prayers that would be Heard must issue from a clean Heart, and undefiled Lips. Inhuman Tyrant, cry'd his Wife, rise, and admire the puissance of the Deity, and the Excess of his goodness, who understanding my Innocence of the Crime for which thou accusest me, is pleas'd to de­monstrate my Chastity, by restoring me my Nose, to the end I may not be lookt upon as a Woman of Dishonour in the World. The Shooe-maker, believing such a Miracle Impos­sible, Rises, 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, confess'd the injury he had done her to suspect her, he beg'd her pardon, and by a thousand Caresses strove to make her forget his Cruelty.

On the other side, the Surgeon's Mate, who was gone home to her Lodging, as you may well believe, in great affliction, crept softly into Bed to her Husband, who when he wak'd, ask'd her for his Case of Instruments, that he might go and dress such a Person. His Wife was a long time seeking what her Husband de­manded, and when she saw him quite out of Patience, she gave him a single Razer which put the Surgeon into such a pelting Chafe, that [Page 59]he flung it at her Head, calling her a thousand Jades and Baggages. 'Twas hardly Day, which favour'd her design. Presently therefore the Woman flung her self upon the Ground, and fill'd the Air with loud Shrieks of Murder, Murder, which fetch'd all her Neighbours in an Instant about her; who seeing her all Bloody and without a Nose, began to cry out shame upon the Surgeon, who was in such an Amaze, that he knew not what to say, nor which way to look. He knew not whether it were best for him to deny or confess the Fact: However when Morning was come, they hur­ry'd the Surgeon away before the Magistrate. The Monk also went along with the Rabble, and heard the Case stated.

After the Accusation, and Witnesses heard, well said the Judge to the Surgeon, what was the Reason, Sir, that you abus'd your Wife in such a horrid manner? To which when the Surgeon seiz'd with Astonishment stood Mute, not knowing what to answer, the Judge with­out any farther Examination Condemn'd him to Death.

But then, hold, Sir, cry'd the Monk, sus­pend your Judgment, and take a care what Sentence you pronoune: 'tis neither the Thief that stole my Garments, nor the Rams that kill'd the Fox, nor the Harlot that Poison'd her Lov­er, nor lastly the Shooe-maker that cut off the Surgeons Wife's Nose, but we your selves who have drawn upon us all these Misfortunes. Then the Judge leaving the Surgeon, and addressing himself to the Monk, demanded the Interpre­tation of his Riddle.

Then the Monk gave him a full account of all that he had seen; and going on, Sir, said He, had I not taken the rich Garment out of Ambition, the Thief had never Rob'd me; had not the Fox thrown himself between the Rams out of Greediness, he had not been Kill'd; had not the Curtisan gone about to Poison the young Gentleman, she had not been Poison'd herself; and had not the Surgeon's Wife favour'd the Adultery of the Shooe-makers Wife, she had never lost her Nose. So that they who com­mit Evil, cannot hope for Good.

I have made use of this Fable, said Kalila, to shew you that you have brought these trou­bles upon your own Head. 'Tis true, said Damna, that I am the cause of 'em, but I de­sire of you [...] proscribe me the Remedy. I have told you [...] the Beginning, reply'd Kalila, that I would never meddle with your Affairs, and so now, neither do I intend to trouble my self with the Cute of your Disturbances. Mind your own Business your self, and consider what course you have to take. Well then, reply'd Damna, I will use all my Endeavours to ruin the Ox; and certainly I have as much wit as the Sparrow that reveng'd himself upon the Sparrow-hawk; upon which Kalila desir'd him to recite the Fable, and Damna began as follows.

The Fable of the Sparrow and the Spar­row-Hawk.

TWO Sparrows had made their Nest under the Bough of a Tree, where they had also laid up some small Provision for their young ones; but a Sparrow-Hawk, who had built his Nest 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 Affli­ction to both their Parents. Nevertheless, af­ter this, they bred up their young ones so well, and in so much safety, that they had both of 'em the pleasure to see 'em ready to Fly. The Father and the Mother by their continual Chirping, testified their Joy for such a Happi­ness; but all of a sudden they fell into a pro­found Melancholy, which was caus'd through extremity of Fear, lest the Sparrow-Hawk should devour their young ones as he had done before. The eldest of these young Sparrows desired to know of his Father the reason of his Affliction; which his Father having discover'd to him, he made answer, that 'twas a folly for him to withstand his Destiny, but that it rather became him to seek out some way to remove so dangerous a Neighbour. All the Sparrows ap­prov'd this Advice. The Mother flew to get Food for her young ones; and the Father flew another way in search of some Cure for his Sorrows. After he had flown about for some time, said he to himself, whither shall I flye, and to whom shall I discover my Troubles? At length he resolv'd to address himself to the [Page 62]first Creature he met, and to Consult him about his Business. This first Creature was a Salamander, whose extraordinary Shape at first affrighted him: However, the Sparrow would not alter his Resolution, but accosted and salu­ted him. The Salamander, who was very ci­vil, gave him an obliging Reception, and look­ing upon him with a fix'd Eye, Friend, said he, I discover much trouble in thy Countenance: If it proceed from weariness, sit down and rest thy self; if from any other Cause, 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 such moving Language, as rais'd Compassion in the Salamander. Well, said the Salamander, by way of Consolation, let not these Troubles any more perplex thee; I'll deliver thee from this wicked Neighbour this very Night; only shew me his Nest, then go to roost with thy young ones; which the Spar­row did accordingly, and then return'd the Sa­lamander Thanks for being so much concern'd in his Misfortunes.

No sooner was the Night come, but the Sa­lamander and several others of his own Gang, went directly with every one a bit of lighted Sulphur in their Mouths to the Sparrow-Hawk's Nest, who not dreaming of any such thing was surpriz'd by the Salamanders, who threw the Sulphur into his Nest, and burnt him with all his young ones.

This Fable teaches ye, that whoever has a design to ruin his Enemy, may bring it about let him be never so weak. But Chotorbe is the King's chief Favourite, reply'd Kalila, and it will be a difficult thing to ruin him; for where [Page 63]prudent Princes have plac'd their Confidence they seldom withdraw it because of a bare Re­port. It may be represented to the Lion, reply'd Damna, that one of six things which cause 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 Kalila, The second, continu'd Damna, is not to punish the seditious; the third is to be too much given to Women, to Play and Diver­tisments; Fourthly the Accidents attending a Pestilence, a Famin, or an Earth-quake. The fifth is being too rash and violent; and the sixth is, the preferring War before Peace. I find said Kalila, that you are resolv'd to be a Carver of your own Revenge; but consider that whoever meditates Mischief, brings it at last upon his own Head. On the other side, he that study's his Neighbours welfare, prospers in what he undertakes, as you may see by the ensuing Eable.

The Fable of a King, who of a Tyrant, as he was, became Benigne and Just.

THere was a Certain King who did nothing but Tyrannize over his People; he ruin'd the Rich, misus'd the Poor; so that all his Sub­jects, Day and Night, implor'd of Heav'n to be deliver'd from him. One Day, that he re­turn'd from Hunting, after he had summon'd his People together, Good People, said He, 'till this present time, the reason of my Tyran­nizing has been to all of you unknown. But I assure you that from hence forward you shall live in Peace and at Ease, and no body shall dare to oppress you. The People were extreamly o­verjoy'd at this good News, and forbore pray­ing against the King.

In a Word, this Prince made such an Altera­tion in his conduct, that he acquir'd the Title of Just, and every one began to bless the Feli­city of his Reign. One Day, one of his Fa­vourites presuming to ask him the reason of so suddain and so remarkable a Change, the King gave him this answer. As I Rode a Hunt­ing t'other Day, I saw a Dog in pursuit of a Fox, and after he had overtaken him, he Bit off the lower part of his Leg: However [...]he Fox as lame as he was, made a shift to es­ [...]pe into a Hole. The Dog not able to get him out, left him there: But hardly had he [...]one a hundred paces, when a Man threw a [...]eat Stone at him and crackt his Scull: at the [...]e Instant the Man met a Horse that trod up­ [...] his Foot, and lam'd him for ever; soon after [Page 65]the Horse's Foot stuck so fast between two Stones, that he broke his Ankle-bone in striv­ing to get it out. Then, said I to my self, Men are us'd as they use others. Whoever does that which he ought not to do, receives what he is not willing to receive.

This Example shews you, that they who have a design to do mischief, are generally punish'd for their evil Intentions. If you at­tempt to ruin Chotorb [...], you will repent of it: He is stronger then you, and has more Fr [...]s. Wit is beyond Strength, reply'd Damna, as the following Fable will convince you.

The Fable of a Raven, a Fox and a Serpent.

A Raven had built his Nest in the Cleft of a Mountain, and every time she Hatcht, a Serpent came and devour'd her Young ones. The Raven complaining to a Fox that was one of his Friends, said she to him, what would you advi [...]e me to do to be rid of this Serpent? What d'you think to do? Answer'd the Fox. I am re [...]lv'd, reply'd the Raven to go and Peck out his Eyes when he is a sleep, that so he may no longer find the way to my Nest. The Fox disapprov'd this design, and told the Raven, that it became a prudent Person to manage his Revenge in such a manner, that no Mischief might befal him in taking his Re­venge: Never venture the Misfortune that be­fel the Crane, of which I am going to tell the Fable.

The Fable of the Crane and the Cray-fish.

A Crane had her Habitation by the side of a Lake, and liv'd upon such Fish as she could catch; but being become old and feeble, she could Fish no longer, which was a great affliction to her. I did ill said she to her self, in not making necessary Provision to support me in my old Age; and therfore I must now make use of shift, and cunning to get a livelyhood: With that she plac'd herself by the Water-side, and began to sigh and weep. A Cray-fish perceiving her at a distance, accosted her and ask'd her why she wept? Alas, how can I o­therwise chuse but grieve, seeing my daily Nourishment like to be taken from me? For two Fisher-men lately passing this way; said the one to the other. Here is great store of Fish, what think you of clearing this Pond. To whom his Companion answer'd, no — there is more in such a Lake: Let us go thither first, and then come hither. If this be so, added the Crane I must soon prepare for Death.

The Cray-fish hearing this, went to the Fish and told 'em what she had heard: Upon which the poor Fish in great perplexity swam imme­diately to the Crane, and addressing themselves to her, we are now, said they, in so great a Consternation, that we are come to defire your Protection. Tho' you are our Enemy, yet Wisemen tell us, that they who make their E­nemy their Sanctuary, may be assur'd of being well receiv'd: you know full well that we are [Page 68]your daily Food, and therefore consider and tell us what you think is the best course for us to take. To which the Crane; that which you acquaint me with, I heard my self from the Mouths of the Fisher-men; we have no power sufficient to withstand 'em; nor do I know any other way to secure you, but by removing you one after another into a little Pond here hardby, where there is very good Water, and where the Fisher-men can never catch you, by reason of the Extraordinary depth of it. The Fish approv'd this Counsel, and desir'd the Crane to carry 'em one by one into this Pond. Nor did she fail to Fish up three or four every Morning, but she carry'd 'em to the Top of a small Hill, where she eat 'em: And thus she Feasted her self for a while.

One Day, the Cray-fish, having a desire to see this delicate Pond made known her curiosity to the Crane, who bethinking her self that the Cray-fish was her most mortal Enemy, re­solv'd to Murder her as she had done the Rest: And with this design she flung the Cray-fish upon her Neck, and flew towards the Hill. But the Cray-fish spying at a distance the small Bones of her Companions, mistrusted the Cranes Intention, and laying hold of a fair Opportunity, got the Cranes Neck in her Claw, and grasp'd it so hard, that she strangl'd the Crane.

This Example shews you that Crafty, trick­ing People are often Victimes to their own Cunning. The Raven returning Thanks to the Fox for his good Advice, Sir, said she, I shall not by any means neglect your wholesome In­structions; but what shall I do? You must, [Page 69]Reply'd the Fox? Snatch up somthing that be­longs to some body that sees what you do, to the end he may follow you. Which he may easily do, if you fly slowly; and when you are just over the Serpents Hole, let fall the thing that you hold in your Beak or Talons whatever it be, for then the Person that fol­lows you, seeing 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.

What cannot be done by strength, said Damna, is to be perform'd by Policy. 'Tis very true, reply'd Kalila; but the Ox has more Policy then you. He will by his Prudence frustrate 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.

The Fable of the Rabbet, the Fox and the Wolf.

A Hungry Wolf spy'd a Rabbet feeding at the Foot of a Tree, and had an intention to seize him. The Rabbet perceiving him, would fain have say'd his life by F [...]ght, but the Wolf threw himself in his way, and stopt his Escape. So that the Rabber seeing himself in the power of the Wolf, submissive and prostrate at his Feet gave him all the good Words he could think of. I know, said He, that the King of all Creatures wants a supply to appease his Hunger, and that he is now ranging the Fields in search of Food; but I am but an [...]nsignificant Morsel 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 whose Flesh [...]s as white as a Capons: Such a Prey wal do your Majesties Business. If you please I will go and give him a Visi [...], and en­g [...]ge him to come forth of his H [...]le: Then, if he prove to your l [...]king, you may devour him; if not, it will be my Glory that I had the Honour of being a small Breakfest for your Majesty

Thus over-persuaded the Wolf gave the Rabbet leave to seek out the Fox, and fol­lowd him at the Heels. The Rabbet left the Wolf at the Entrance of the Hole and crept in himself, o'rejoy'd that he had such an Oppor­tunity to revenge himself of the Fox, from whom he had receiv'd an Affront which he had for along time dissembl'd. He made him a [Page 71]low Congie, and gave him great Demonstrati­ons of his Friendship. On the other side, the Fox was no less obliging in his Answers to the Rabbets Civilities, and ask'd him what good wind had blown him thither. Only the great desire I had to see your Worship, reply'd the Rabbet, and there is one of my Relations at the Door who is no less ambitious to kiss your hands, but he dares not enter without your permission. But then the Fox mistrusting there was somthing more then ordinary in all this glozing, well said He to himself, I must pay this pretended Friend of mine in his own Coin. However not seeming to take any notice of any thing, Sir, said he to the Rabbet, your Friend shall be very welcome, he does me too much honour — but, added he, I must entreat you to let me put my Chamber in a little bet­ter order to receive him. The Rabbet too much persnaded of the good Success of his Enter­p [...]e puh, puh, said He, my Relation is one that never stands upon Ceremonies, and so went out to give the Wolf notice that the Fox was fall'n into the snare. And now the Wolf thought he had the Fox fast already, and the Rabbet believ'd himself quite out of danger, as having done the Wolf such a piece of good Ser­vice But the Fox had at the Entrance of his Hole, a very deep Trench, which he had digg'd on purpose to guard him against all surprizes of this nature. Presently therefore he took a­way the Planks, which he had lay'd for the Convenience of those that came to Visit him, cover'd the Trench with a little Earth and Straw, and set open a Back Door in case of necessity; and having thus prepar'd all things [Page 72]in a readiness, he desir'd the Rabbet and his Friend to walk in. But then it was, that the Wolf no less Hungry then the Rabbet was desirous to make his escape, 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.

By this you see, that Fineness and Policy sig­nifie nothing, where you meet Men of Wit and Prudence. 'Tis very true, said Damna, but the Ox is now proud of his Preferment, nei­ther has he the least Suspicion of my Hatred. A Rabbet wiser then that you spoke of last, undertook the ruin of a Lion, and you shall see how he brought it about.

The Fable of the Lion and the Rabbet.

IN the Parts adjoyning to Raydet there was a very delightful Meadow, where several Wild Beasts had taken up their Habitations by reason of the Pleasantness of the Place. Among those Creatures there was a furious Lion, who disturb'd the Peace of all the rest with his continual Murders. One Day, there­fore, they met all together, went to wait upon the Lion, and lay'd before him that they were his Subjects, and by consequence, that it no way became him to make such dreadful slaugh­ters of whole Families together. You seek after us, added they, and we avoy'd you; would you live and enjoy your quiet, by let­ing us alone, we would bring a whole Flasket of Tame and Wildfowl, and you should never be put to the Toyl of Hunting. The Lion ac­cepted this Proposal, and the Beasts cast lots e­very Morning, and he upon whom the lot fell was appointed to hunt for the Lion.

One Day the lot fell upon the Rabbet. who seeing he could not avoy'd it, after he had sum­mon'd all the Beasts together, if you will stand by me, said He, I will certainly deliver you from this cruel Tyrant that Reigns over us. To which they all unanimously answer'd, that they would do their utmost: Upon this the Rabbet stay'd till the Hour of Dinner was past: By which time the Lions anger augment­ed with his Appetite; he lasht the Ground with his Tayl, and perceiving the Rabbet, Whence come you, said He, and what are my Subjects [Page 74]a doing? May it please your Majesty, answer'd the Rabbet, bowing to him with a profound Respect, your Subjects sent me hither to bring your Majesty your accustom'd Provision; but I met a Lion by the way who took it from me. I told him, it was for the King: To which He answer'd, that there was no other King in this Country but himself; and now I am come to inform your Majesty of this hainous piece of insolence. Then the Lion, opening his burn­ing Eyes, cry'd out, who is this Audacious Usurper that dares to lay his Paw upon my Dinner? Canst thou shew me where this hair­brain'd Royster 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, said the Rabbet to the Lion, your Enemy lives in this Well, but I dare not shew him you, and therefore look your self and you'l see him as plain as the Nose i'your Face: Have a care however that you are not first assail'd. With that the Lion went stalking to the Well, and seeing another Lion i'the Wa­ter, which he took for his Enemy that had de­vour'd his Food, enflam'd with Anger he flung himself into the Well to encounter his Mortal Foe and there was drown'd himself.

This Fable shews you, that a strong Man may be surpriz'd by one that is much weaker, when he is not mistrusted. Well, well, said Ka­lila, if you can ruin the Ox without doing the Lion any harm, go on and prosper; if not, I advise you to give over your Enterprise: For it does not become a Subject for his own pri­vate Interest and repose to suffer any Mischief to befall his Prince.

Here the Confabulation between Damna and Kalila ended, and Damna having taken leave of his Wife, absented himself at a great distance from the Lion's Court. Some time after he return'd, and affecting an Air of Sadness before his Majesty, Oh honest Damna said the King to Him, whence comst thou? Where hast thou been this long time? Is there any News abroad? Yes, Sir, answer'd Damna. Then the King starting for fear, what is it, said he to Damna? I beg your Majesty, reply'd Damna, 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 so commanding the Room to be clear'd, order'd Damna to go on and speak what he had to say. Then Damna, 'tis requisite, said He, that the Bearer of ill News should have the address to give it an Allay; and that he to whom it is reported should be able to judge, whether the Person that makes the Report be worthy to be Credit­ed, or whether he speak for his own Interest. If he be worthy to be believ'd, he ought to be confided in, when his discourse may be advan­tageous to the Public. The Lion, interrutping him, thou knowst, said He, that I have expe­rienc'd thy Fidelity, and therefore speak bold­ly, what thou hast to say. The Purity of my Intentions, continu'd Damna, have made me to assume this Boldness, and I am more then happy to be known to your Majesty. I questi­on not thy Zeal, said the Lion; but prithe come to the News, which it so much concerns me to know.

When Damna perceiv'd the good success of his Flatteries, and that the King had a Confi­dence [Page 76]in him, he thus began his Discourse. Sir, said He, Chotorbe has daily conferences with the Grandees and Chieftains of your Army, and I partly know that he improves your faint-heartedness as much as lies in his Power to your Prejudice; which makes me believe he has some design upon your Person. 'Tis to be ad­mir'd, that he should so ungratefully abuse your Favours, and the particular Friendship with which you are pleas'd to Honour him. Damna, cry'd the Lion; take a care what thou say'st: If this be true, what course is to be taken? Sir, reply'd Damna, there are two sorts of People, the one Sage and Prudent; the other Rash and Inconsiderate. The one are always at a loss, when any accident befals 'em; the other foresee things, and nothing moves 'em, whatever happens. We ought therefore to imitate their Prudence, and to secure our selves from danger, so soon as we have the least Inkling of it. There are another sort of People who never truly foresee Danger, but who know how to take their proper courses when it presents it self: And these three Characters put me in mind of the Fable of the three Fish, which I would tell your Majesty, did I not fear it might offen'd your Patience. But the Lion commanded him to let him hear it out, and so Damna thus proceeded.

The Fable of the two Fisher-men, and the three Fish.

THere was a certain Pond, of which the Water was very clear, and empty'd it self into a River. It was remote from the High­way, and there were in it three Fish, One of which was prudent, the second had but little Wit, and the third was a meer Fool. One Day, by chance two Fisher-men perceiv'd this Pond, they made up to it, and they no sooner observ'd these three Fish which were Large and Fat, but they went and fetch'd their Nets. The Fish suspecting the Fisher-mens design, were in a peck of Troubles. The prudent Fish immediately resolv'd what Course totake. He threw himself out of the Pond, through the litte Channel that open'd into the River, and so made his Escape. The next Morning the two Fisher-men return'd, and stop'd up all the Pas­sages, to prevent the Fish from getting out. The half witted Fish, repented then that he had not follow'd his Companion; but at length he bethought himself of a Stratagem; he ap­pear'd upon the Surface of the Water with his Belly upward, and fain'd to be Dead. The Fisher-men also having tak'n him, thought him really what he Counterfeited himself to be, so that they threw him again into the Water. The last, which was the foolish Fish, seeing himself press'd by the Fisher-men, sunk down to the Bottom of the Pond, and shifted up and down from Place to Place, but could not avoid fall­ing into their hands.

This Example shews your Majesty, that you ought to prevent Chotorbe, by making your self Master of his Life, before he have yours at his Command. What you say is ve­ry agreeable to reason, said the King; but I cannot believe that Chotorbe upon whom I have heap'd so many Favours, should be so perfidious as you represent him. 'Tis true, reply'd Damna, that he never receiv'd any thing but Kindness from your Majesty; but what is bread i'the Bone will never out of the Flesh; neither can any thing come out of a Vessel but what is put into it. Of which the following Fable is a suffi­cient Proof.

The Fable of the Scorpion and the Tortoise.

ATortoise and a Scorpion had bound them­selves in such a Tye of Friendship, that the one could not live without the other. One Day, finding themselves oblig'd to change their Habitation, they Travell'd together, but meeting with a River, the Scorpion making a stop, said He to the Tortoise, how shall I get over the Water? Never trouble your self my dear Friend for that, reply'd the Tortoise, I'll carry you upon my back secure from all manner of Danger. In short the Scorpion got upon the Back of the Tortoise, who took Wa­ter and began to Swim. But he was hardly got half way the River, when he heard a Terri­ble Rumbling upon his Back, which made him ask the Scorpion what he was doing? Doing! Reply'd the Scorpion, why I am whet­ting my Sting, to try whether I can bore this Horny Curass of yours that covers your Flesh. Oh Ingrateful Wretch, then cry'd the Tortoise, wouldst thou, at a time when I am giving thee such a Demonstration of my Friendship, would'st thou at such a time, Pierce with thy Venomous Sting the Defence that Nature has given me, and take away my life?

Sir, said Damna, pursuing his Discourse, the Wicked are never to be favour'd. You urge me too hard upon this Subject, said the Lion, were Chotorbe capable of so much perfidious­ness, he would certainly have shewn his ma­licious Intentions before this. Never trust to that, reply'd Damna, he carries on his Design [Page 80]with more prudence. He will not attack your Majesty's Person in Particular, he will first Cajole your whole Court, and delude 'em into his Interests. You say something now, said the Lion, Interrupting him, but how shall we find a fair pretence to be rid of him? Let me a­lone for that, reply'd Damna, a faithless Sub­ject must be Punish'd.

These Amusements of the subtle Fox made such an Impression in the mind of the King, that he resolv'd to admit Chotorb no more into his pre­sence, but to banish him altogether from his Court, after he had let him know the reason of his Fall. But Damna, fearing lest Chotorb should discover his Villany, Sir, said He, I have heard from Persons of Understanding, that a Prince ought never to inflict Public Pu­nishment upon faults committed in Secret. Nor secretly to chastise public Crimes: There­fore, seeing Chotorb [...] is a secret Transgressour, he must be privately Punish'd. 'Tis a great piece of Injustice, reply'd the Lion, to punish any one, before he be told the reason of his Pu­nishment. 'Twill be be sufficient, answer'd Damna, that once for all you make him sensi­ble of your Displeasure, and that you give him a cold Reception: His Conscience will up­braid him with his perfidiousness at the same instant, and he will no longer doubt but that you are preparing for him his due Reward. You will perceive him also Disturb'd and Agi­tated in his Mind, which will be an evident Proof of the Truth of my Suspitions. If it be so, reply'd the Lion, I shall be soon convinc'd of his Treason.

Damna, seeing the King so well prepar'd to his Hearts desire, went to Chotorbe, and made him a low Bow. To whom, the Ox, after many Caresses, What's the Reason, said He, that you come to see me no oftner? Is it be­cause you think me no longer one of your Friends? Tho' I have been absent for some time, reply'd Damna, Yet have I still preserv'd you in my Thoughts. But why, reply'd the Ox, did you retire from the Court? Because I love my Liberty, reply'd Damna; and when we are in the Kings Presence, we tremble for fear, as being always under restraint. You look cry'd the Ox, as if you were not satisfi [...]d with the King, and were afraid of some Misfortune. 'Tis very true, answer'd Damna, but 'tis for your sake, and not for my own that I am in this perplexity. Poor Chotorbe terribly fright­ed at this answer, my Dear Friend said He to Damna, let me know the Danger that Threat­ens me. Why truly, reply'd Damna, a Friend of mine has in trusted me with a private dis­course which past some Days ago, between the King and a great Person who has no Kindness for your Lordship. Said the King to this great Person, Chotorbe is now very Fat and of no use to us; now I must feast all the Lords of my Court; and therefore I think my cheapest way will be to Roast this Ox alive and whole for their Enter­tainment. I bring you this News to convince you that I am your Real Friend, and to assist you, as far as lyes in my power, to avoy'd the Danger. Chotorbe, astonish'd at this Piece of four Intelligence: But by what Device, said He, shall I be able to escape this Intended Cru­elty of the King? Alas, good Heaven is my [Page 82]Witness, I never gave him the least Occasion to use me so severely. Certainly I must have some private Enemy who has falsely accus'd me to his Majesty behind my Back, and incens'd him without a Cause against me. He is like the Drake, who seeing the Resemblance of the Moon in the Water, thought it to be some extra­ordinary Fish, and deluded with that Errour div'd several times to catch it; but mad to see that all his Efforts should prove Vain; he came out of the Water, swearing never to re­turn to that Element again: And after that, tho' he were never so Hungry, he would ne­ver Dive more after any Fish, believing it to be only the light of the Moon. Backbiters and Flatterers have so prepossess'd the Lion a­gainst me, that whatever I do hence forward to please him, he will still believe that I only dissemble. It may be, said Damna, the King may alter his Mind: On the other side, being absolute in his Power, he may, without being bound to give any reason, Condemn you to Death. 'Tis true, reply'd Chotorbe, that Prin­ces many times repay with Ingratitude the Ser­vices of their most faithful Subjects, as you may see by the Ensuing Fable.

The Fable of the Falcon and the Hen.

HUssie, said a Falcon to a Hen, you are an ingrateful Slut. Why, what ingrati­tude have you observ'd in me, reply'd the Hen? Can there be a greater Piece of In­gratitude, reply'd the Falcon, then that which you commit in reference to Men? By Day, they seek out every where for Nou­rishment to Fat you, and in the Night time you have a place always ready to Roost in. They take care that your Chamber be close Barr'd up that nothing may trou­ble your Repose: Nevertheless when they desire to catch you, you run away; which I never do; I, that am a Wild Bird of Prey. Upon the meanest of their Caresses I grow Tame; suffer my self to be taken, and I never Eat but upon their Fists. All this is very true, reply'd the Hen: But I find you know not the Reason, of my Flight: And wherefore is it? Because you never saw a Falcon upon the Spit; but I have seen a thousand Hens drest with all manner of Sauces.

I have recited this Fable, to shew you, that they who are so ambitious of a Court Life, know not the Inconveniences of it. I believe, said Damna, that the Lion seeks your Life for no other Reason, but because he is jealous of your Vertues. 'Tis a certain Truth, reply'd Chotorbe, that the Fruit Trees only are subject to have their [Page 84]Branches Broken; Nightingales are Cag'd because they Sing more Pleasantly then o­ther Birds; and we pluck the Peacocks Feathers from their Tayls, for no other reason but because they are Beautiful. And thus at this Day, the Wicked who are Cloath'd with the outward shews of Vertue, are much more Honour'd then Persons tru­ly Vertuous. However I am not afraid of whatever Contrivances the Malice of Wick­ed People can Weave to my Prejudice. I will Imitate the Nightingale in the follow­ing Fable.

The Fable of the Nightingale and the Country-man.

A Certain Country-man had a Rose-bush in his Garden, which he made his whole Delight. He had so great a kindness for it, that every Morning he went to look upon it, and see his Roses ready to blow. One Day, as he was admiring, according to his Custom, the Beauty of his Flowers, he spy'd a Nightin­gale perch'd upon one of the Rofes, and pluck­ing off the Leaves one after another. Which put him into so great a Passion, 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 short he took the Bird and put her in a Cage. The Nightingale very Melancholy to see her self in that Condi­tion, with a Mournful Voice ask'd the Coun­try-man the Reason of her Slavery. To whom the Country-man: Know, said He, that thou toarest my Heart, when thou toarest the lovely Leaves of my Roses. Alass, reply'd the Nigh­tingale, you use me very severely for having cropt a few Leaves from a Rose. But how must 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 same manner as they deal by their Neighbours. The Country-man mov'd with these words, gave the Nightingale her Liberty again; for which the Nightingale being no less willing to thank him; Friend, said She, since you have done me this favour, I will repay your Kindness in [Page 86]the same manner. Know then, that at the Foot of yonder Tree lyes bury'd a Pot full of Gold, go and take it, and Heaven bless you with it. The Country-man digg'd about the Tree, and finding the Pot, I wonder, said He, to the Nightingale, that being able to see this Pot, which was bury'd under Ground, you could not discover the Net that was spread for your Captivity. Know you not, reply'd the Nightingale that we can never escape our Destiny?

By this Example you see that we are wholly to resign our selves up to our Fate. 'Tis ve­ry true, reply'd Damna; however the Lion seeking your Destruction will incur divine Punishment; and being so desirous as he is to augment his Grandeur by your Fall, what be­fel the Hunter, will be his Destiny.

The Fable of the Hunter, the Fox and the Leopard.

A Certain Hunter, said Damna pursuing, his Discourse, espy'd in the middle of a Field a Fox that lookt with so cunning an Aspect, and who had on a Skin so fair and lovely, that he had a great desire to take him alive. To this purpose he found out his Hole, and just before the Entrance in­to it he digg'd a very deep Trench, which he cover'd with slender Twigs and Straw, and having eas'd Nature upon it, he went and hid himself in a Corner out of sight. The Fox returning to his Hole, smelling the strong Scent of what the Hunter had left for his Breakfast, presently ran to see what dainty Morsel it was. When he came to the Trench, the Fox would fain have been tasting the delicate Morsel; but the fear of some 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 such hast to fall on, that he tumbl'd into the Trench. The Hunter hearing the Noise of the falling Leopard, threw himself into the Trench, without looking into it, because he never question'd but that it had been the Fox: But there he found the Leopard which tore him in Pieces and devour'd him.

This Fable teaches us that Prudence and Wisdom ought to regulate our Desires. Then Chotorbe, I did very ill, said He, to accept the Lions offer. 'Tis not enough, reply'd Damna, interrupting him, to repent and bewail your past Actions, you must now make it your Business to moderate the Lions Passion. I am assur'd of his good will reply'd Chotorbe; but Traytours and Flat­ters will do their utmost to change his Favour into Hatred; and am afraid they will bring about their designs in the same manner as the Wolf, the Fox and the Raven ruin'd the Cammel.

The Fable of the Wolf, the Fox, the Ra­ven and the Cammel.

IN former times said Chotorbè, there was a Crafty Raven, a Subtle Fox, and a Bloo­dy Wolf who put themselves into the Service of a Lion, that held his Court in a Wood upon the Highway. Near this place a Mer­chants Cammel quite tyr'd with long Travel lay down to rest himself: And in a few Days after having recover'd his strength, he en­ter'd into the Lions Wood with a design to Feed. But he was strangely astonish'd when he saw the Lion there: He offer'd him his Ser­vice; the Lion accepted it, and after he knew by what Accident he came into the Place, he ask'd him what he would do? Whate­ver your Majesty pleases, reply'd the Cammel. If thou wilt live with me, reply'd the Lion, thou shalt be secure. The Cammel was very glad of this, and remain'd with the Lion, doing nothing but feed without dis­turbance, so that he became Plump and Fat.

One Day the Lion going a Hunting, met an Elephant with whom he Encounter'd: But returning Wounded to the Wood, was starv'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 sorry, said He, for your sadness then my own Wounds: Go and see if you meet with any Venson in [Page 90]the Purlieus adjoyning: If you do, return and give me Notice and I will go and seize it for you. Upon that, away they went, left the Lion, and held a Council all three toge­ther. Said the Wolf, what good does this Cammel do us here? We have no Correspond­ence 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 please the Fox, who affirm'd that the Cammels life could not be justly taken away, since the Lion had given him his word that he should live unmolested in the Wood: That such an Acti­on would render the King Odious to all Poste­rity, who would look upon him as a perfidi­ous Person, who gave Protection to a strang­er within his Dominions, only to put him to Death without a Cause, and gain by his De­struction.

The Raven, who had a great deal of Wit and as much Malice, reconcil'd both these O­pinions, saying that there might be a fair Pre­tence found to colour the Death of the Cam­mel. Stay here then till I return; and so say­ing, away he went to the Lion; and when he came into his Presence, Sir, said He, we are almost famish'd to Death, and for that reason so weak that we can hardly Crawl along: But we have found out a Remedy for all this; and if your Majesty will but give leave we shall have a Feast. What is you remedy? Answer'd the Lion, hardly able to open his Jaws. To whom the Rav'n, Sir, said He, the Cam­mel lives like a Hermite in your Kingdom, [Page 91]never comes near us, neither is he good for any thing but to satisfy our Hunger. And in regard your Majesty wants good and whole­some Dyet in your Condition, Cammels Flesh (for I am so much a Surgeon) may be very proper for you. The Lion, highly, incens'd at this Proposal of the Raven, Oh! What a wicked and Treacherous Age is this! Cry'd He. How will you prove it lawful to be faithless, and violate ascertain'd Promises? I know nothing of that, Sir, reply'd the Ra­ven; but great Casuists hold it for a Maxim, That a single Person may be sacrific'd to the welfare of a whole Nation, or the Preservati­on of the Kings Life. Besides, there may be some Expedient found out to disingage your Majesty from your Promise. Upon that, the Lion bow'd down his Head to consider of it, and the Raven return'd to his Companions, to whom he related what discourse had past be­tween the King and him. And now, said 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 since we have spent the greatest Part of our Lives in Peace and Plenty under the King Reign, it is but just, we should surrender up our own, to prolong his Days.

In pursuance of this Discourse, which will engage the Cammel to accompany us, we will go to the King and offer him our three Carkasses; striving at the same time which shall be most free of his Flesh to serve the King for his present Nourishment. The Cammel [Page 92]perhaps will then be willing to sacrifice himself; and then we'll take him at his Word; and our design will succeed. In short they Acted their Parts so well, that they carry'd the Cammel to the King, to whom the Raven being Spokesman, Sir, said He, seeing your Health is more Pretious to us then our lives, suffer me to offer you up mine to appease your Raging Hunger. What a goodly Collation you offer to his Ma­jesty! Cry'd the Fox. You that have only a little Skin and three or four dry Bones, are a precious Bit to satisfy the King, who I warrant you could feed at this time like a Fidler in a Farmer's Henroost; I have better Flesh and more substantial then yours. Then the Wolf, Sir, said He, your Ma­jesty must have more Solid Dyet to refresh your Hungry Stomack, and therefore I think my self a Banquet much more pro­per to regale your Highness. The Cam­mel, unwilling to appear less Affectionate then the Rest, when it came to his turn, all you three, said He, are not enough to satisfy the King's Hunger; but tho' he had not eaten a Mouthful these three Days, I alone am sufficient to restore him to his Health. Then said all the Rest, this Cammel speaks reason, his Flesh is Excellent, and dainty, worth your Majesties Tast. How happy will he be, to leave to Posterity such an Example of Zeal and Generosity! And so saying they all fell up him, and tore him to pie­ces, before he could speak a Word for him­self.

This Fable shews that when several wicked Conspirators combine together in the Con­trivance of any Enterprize, they easily bring it to pass. For my part said Damna, were I in your Condition, I would defend my life, as I advise you to do: For he that dyes with his Sword in his hand, renders himself famous. 'Tis not good to begin a War; but when we are attackt, 'tis Ignominious to Surrender our selves Cowardly into the Enemies hand. But we ought to know our Strength, reply'd Cho­torbe, before we Engage in Combat; for if we attack our Enemy imprudently it resem­bles the Angel Ruler of the Sea, concerning whom I will tell you the Fable.

The Fable of the Angel Ruler of the Sea, and two Birds, call'd Titavi.

TWo Birds, call'd Titavi, liv'd upon the Shore of the Indian Sea. When it was Hatching Season, said the Female to the Male, 'tis time for me to chuse a proper place where­in to Hatch my young ones. To whom the Male, this is a very good Place, said He. No, reply'd the Female, for the Sea may swell, and the Waves may carry away my Eggs. That can never be, said the Male, nor dares the Angel Ruler of the Sea do me an Injury; for if he should, I would certainly call him to an Account. You must never boast, reply'd the Female, of a thing which you are not a­ble to perform. What comparison is there betweeen You and the Prince of the Sea? Re­member the Misfortune that befel the Tortoise. What Misfortune? Cry'd the Male.

The Fable of the Tortoise and two Ducks.

THere was a Tortoise, continu'd the Female, that liv'd in a Pond with some Ducks in full content. But at length there happen'd so dry a Year that there was no Water in the Pond. Thereupon the Ducks finding them­selves constrain'd to remove, went to the Tortoise to take their Leaves of him. But the Tortoise upbraided 'em for leaving him in the time of his Calamity, and besought 'em to carry him a long with 'em. To whom the Ducks, 'Tis a great Trouble to us, said they, that we must leave you in this Condition, but we are constrain'd to it for our own Preservation: And as to what you propose to us, to take you with us, we have a long Jour­ney to make, and you can never follow us, be­cause we can fly: Nevertheless, if you will promise us, not to speak a word by the way, we will carry you. But we shall meet with People that will talk to us; and then you will be tatling, which will be the cause of your Destructi­on. No, answer'd the Tortoise, I will do what ever you would have me. Then the Ducks order'd the Tortoise to take a little Stick, and hold it in the middle between his Teeth; and then exhorting him to keep steady, two Ducks took the Stick by each end, and to rais'd him up. Now as they flew over a Village, the In­habitants wondring at the Novelty of the sight, fell a Shouting with all their Might; [...] made such a horrid Noise, that [...] grew Impatient to be twatling. And [...] [Page 96]not able to keep silence any longer, he was go­ing to wish the People Eyes out for Gazing up­on 'em. But so soon as he open'd his Mouth, he fell to the Ground and Kill'd himself.

This Example shews, that we ought not to despise the Exhortations of Friends. I have heard your Fable, said the Male, but know, that they who want Courage, are no way ca­pable of great performances. Let us Hatch our young ones in this Place, and let us be assur'd, that the Angel Ruler of the Sea can do us no harm. The Female obey'd, and built her Nest by the Sea side: But within a Day or two after, the Ocean swelling, the Waves o­verturn'd the Nest, and the Prince of the Sea took the Eggs. Then the Female, addressing her self to the Male, I told you, said she, that you were too Vainglorious to out-brave a Power, which it became you rather to revere Now let us see how you will revenge your self for this Affront. I'll assure you, reply'd the Male, that I will make him restore your Eggs. And so saying, without any more de­lay, he flew to all the Birds, one after another, told 'em the Story, and crav'd Aid to revenge himself upon the Prince of the Sea. All the Birds promis'd their succour to Titavi, and went with him also to the Griffon, and threat­en'd to acknowledge him no longer for their King, if he did not Head 'em. Thereupon, the Griffon flew before 'em, and they beset the Prince of the Sea's Palace, who seeing such an Infinite Number of Birds, in great Terrour and Affright, restor'd the Eggs.

An Enemy said Damna, is at no time to be despis'd. I will not then begin the Combat, [Page 97]reply'd Chotorbè, interrupting him, but if the Lion attack me, I will defend my self. Well then, answer'd Damna, when you see him lash the Ground with his Tail, and move his Eyes, you may be sure he will immediately be upon your Skirts. I thank you for your Advice, reply'd Chotorbè, and when I observe the signs which you have so like a Friend inform'd me of, I shall prepare to receive him.

Damna, overjoy'd at the success of his En­terprize, went to Kalila, who ask'd him how his Design went forward. I thank my Fates, cry'd Damna, I am just going to Triumph o­ver my Enemies. After this Confabulation, the two Foxes went to Court, where soon after Chotorbè arriv'd.

The Lion no sooner beheld him, but he thought him Guilty: And Chotorbe, casting his Eyes upon the Lion, made no Question but that his Majesty had resolv'd his Ruin. So that both the one and the other manifesting those signs which Damna had describ'd to each, there began a most 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 Kalila to Damna, for thou hast here endanger'd the Kings Life. Thy end will be Miserable, for contriving such pernicious Designs; and that which happen'd to a Cheat who was the Cully of his own Knaveries, will one Day befall thee.

The Fable of two young Merchants, the one Crafty the other without Malice.

TWo young Merchants left their Country, to Travel upon the Account of Trade: The one was call'd Sharpwit, the other Simple­ton. These two by Accident found a Bagg full of Mony. Said Sharpwit to his Compani­on, Travelling in truth is very Profitable, but very Painful: And therefore Brother, let us be contented with this Mony, without Fatiguing our selves any more to get Wealth: To which Simpleton consenting, they return'd both to their Lodging. However before they parted, Simpleton bethought himself of Dividing what they had found, to the end they might be both at their own Liberty. But, said Sharpwit, 'tis much better for us to put it into a safe Place, and every Day to take out somthing out of the Stock. Simpleton answer'd, that he very well approv'd of his Proposal. After this they hid the Mony, taking each of 'em a small Sum for their particular Expences. The next Day, Sharpwit went where the Mony lay, and having taken it away, return'd home. On the other side, when Simpleton had expended all that he had, he ran to Sharpwit's Lodging, and meeting with him, Come, said He, let's go together and take out such another Sum as we took out before. Content; answer'd Sharpwit, for I have spent 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. Presently Sharpwit threw [Page 99]himself upon the Ground, tore his Hair, rent his Cloaths, and weeping to his Compa­nion, Why hast thou dealt so unkindly with thy Friend, said He, for no body but thou could take away the Mony, since no bo­dy else knew where it was hid. 'Twas in vain for Simpleton to swear he had not taken it away: The other still feigning to be assur'd of the Contrary. At length they went both before a Judge, before whom Sharpwit, af­ter he had related the whole Story how they found the Mony, and how they agreed to hide it, accus'd Simpleton for having stoln it. The Judge call'd presently for Witnesses to prove the Robbery; to which Sharpwit, I have no other Witnesses, said He, but the Tree that grows next the Place; and I hope, God, who is so just, will suffer the dumb Tree to give Testimony of the truth. The Judge admiring to hear the Man talk at such a rate, resolv'd to see the Issue of the Business, and accepting the Tree for a Witness, promis'd the next Day to take a Walk to the Tree and Examine it: And so the two Merchants went home till next Day. In the mean time Sharpwit told his Father the Story, assuring 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 shall have the Sum which I have taken, and as much more from the Party accus'd upon his Condemnation, which will serve 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 must go into the Tree in the Evening, [Page 100]and lye there all Night; to the end that when the Judge comes betimes in the Morn­ing, you may give Testimony according to the Custom. Oh Son, said the Father, leave off these little knacks of Knavery, for tho' thou may'st deceive Men, thou can'st never deceive God; and I'm afraid thy Fortune will have the same Success with that of the Frog.

The Fable of the Frog, the Cray-fish, and the Serpent.

THere was a Frog which had her Habitation hard by a Serpent, that every time she brought forth young ones, eat 'em up; which put her almost beside her Wits. One Day go­ing to pay a Visit to a Cray-fish that was one of her Gossips, she made her the confident of her Grievances. The Cray-fish put her in good Heart, assuring her that a way might be found out to rid her from such a pernicious Neighbour. You will highly oblige me, said the Frog, if you would be pleas'd but to teach me that Trick. Hark you then, Gossip, re­ply'd the Cray-fish, there is in such a Place one of my Comrades who is very Fat and Strong withal. Take you a sufficient Number of little Menows, and lay 'em all in a Row from the Cray-fishes Hole, to the Serpents Lodging; for the Cray-fish 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 noise, and then the Cray­fish [Page 101]will devour him too. The Frog follow'd this advice, and accordingly tasted the sweet Pleasure of revenge. But two days after, the Cray-fish that had eaten the Serpent, thinking to find more, went where the Frog lay in, and eat up her and all her young ones.

You see by this Fable, that deceivers are deceiv'd. Father, said the Son, leave off this idle discourse: We have no time now for Moralizing. Thereupon the old Man, who was covetous enough, not able to dissuade his Son, submitted and went and hid himself in the Tree. The next Day, betimes in the Morning, the Judge made hast to the Tree, accompany'd by a great Number of Persons of Wit and Penetration, and a great Croud of others that desir'd to be Witnesses of the Mi­racle. After some Ceremonies, the Judge ask'd the Tree, whether it were true that Simpleton had taken the Mony in dispute. Presently he heard a Voice that answer'd, Yes—He is Guilty of what he is Accus'd. Which somwhat astonish'd the Judge at first: But afterwards surmizing that there might be some body in the Tree, he order'd all the Boughs round about the Tree to be heap'd together and set 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, confess'd the Truth. By which piece of Discretion the Judge made manifest the Innocence of Simpleton, and Sharpwits wickedness, for which he was punish'd, while all the Mony was taken from the Accu­ser and given to the Party accus'd.

[...]
[...]

I have recited this Example, to shew you, that there is nothing like Acting with Up­rightness and Sincerity. You are too blame, said Damna, to call Wit by the Name of Kna­very, and the care of a Mans own Interests, by the Appellation of Artifice. For my part, I am apt to think, that I have shew'd nothing but Wit and Judgment [...]in my whole Conduct. Thou art a wicked Creature, cry'd Kalila, nor will I any longer listen to thee, nor live with thee, because thou teachest such wicked Maxims. They that frequent the Company of such as thou art, will come to the Gardner's end.

The Fable of the Gardner and the Bear.

THere was in former times a Gardner who lov'd his Gardning to that degree, that he absented himself from the Company of Men, to the end he might wholly give himself 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, so that it lay like a Terrestrial Paradise. But at length the good Man grew weary of being alone, and took a Resolution to leave his Gar­den in search of good Company.

As he was walking at the foot of a Moun­tain, he spy'd a Bear whose looks put him into great affright. This Bear was also weary of being alone, and came down from the Mountain, for no other reason, but to see whether he could meet with any one that would joyn Society with him. So soon therefore, as they saw each o­ther, they began to have a Friendship one for another. The Gardner first accosted the Bear, who made him a profound Reverence. After some Complements past between 'em, the Gardner made the Bear a sign to follow him, and carrying him into his Garden, regal'd him with a world of very delicious Fruit which he had carefully preserv'd, so that at length they en­ter'd into a very strict Friendship together. In so much that when the Gardner was a weary of Working, and lay down to take a little Nap, the Bear out of Affection, stay'd all the while by him, and kept off the Flies from his Face. One Day that the Gardner lay down to sleep at [Page 104]the foot of a Tree, and that the Bear stood by to drive away the Flies, it happen'd that one of those Infects lit upon the Gardner's Mouth, and still as the Bear drave it away from one side, it would light on the other; which put the Bear into such a Chafe, that he took up a great Stone to kill it. 'Tis true, he did kill the Flie, but at the same time he broke out two or three of the Gardner's Teeth. From whence Men of Judgment observe, that it is better to have a Prudent Enemy, then an Ignorant Friend.

This Example shews, that your Society is no less dangerous then the Company of the Bear. For my part, said Damna, I am not so Ignorant, but that I am able to distinguish be­tween what is Baneful, and what is Benefitial to my Friend. I know very well, reply'd Kalila, that your Transgressions are not the failings of Ignorance: For when you betray your Friends, 'tis not without long Premeditation; Witness the Contrivances you made use of to set 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.

The Fable of the Merchant and his Friend.

A Certain Merchant, said Kalila, pursuing her Discourse, had a great desire to make a long Journey. Now in regard he was not ve­ry wealthy, 'tis requisite, said He to himself, that before my departure I should leave some part of my Estate 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 purpose he deliver'd a great Number of Bars of Iron in trust to one of his Friends, desiring him to keep 'em during his Absence; and then taking his Leave, away he went. Some time after he return'd home; and the first thing he did was to go to his Friend, and demand his Iron. But his Friend who ow'd several Sums of Mony, having sold the Iron to pay his Debts, made him this answer, Truly Friend, said He, I put your Iron into a Room that was close lock'd, imagining it would have been there as secure as my own Gold; but there was a Rat in the Room that eat it up. The Mer­chant, pretending Ignorance, 'tis very true, said He, Rats love Iron extreamly. This answer pleas'd his Friend; who was glad to hear the Merchant so well enclin'd to believe that the Rats had eaten his Iron; and to remove all his suspicions, he desir'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 seem'd to be in great [Page 106]Affliction, which he ask'd him the cause of; tho' he were not ignorant of it. Oh my dear Friend, answer'd the other, I beg you to excuse me, if you do not see me so chearful as otherwise I would be: I have lost one of my Children; I have had him cry'd by sound of Trum­pet, and I now not what is become of him. Oh, said the Merchant, Yesterday in the Evening, as I parted from hence, I saw an Owl in the Air with a Child in his Claws; but whether it were yours I cannot tell. Good­man Thickscul, cry'd his Friend, are you not asham'd to tell such an egregious Lye? An Owl that weighs, at most, not above two or three Pound, can he carry a Boy that weighs a­bove Fifty? Why, reply'd the Merchant, d'you make such a wonder at that? As if in a Coun­try where one Rat can eat a hundred Pound weight of Iron, it were such 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 such fool as he took him to be: He begg'd his Pardon for the Cheat which he design'd to have put upon him, restor'd him his Iron, and had his Son again.

This Fable proves, that if you could be so unjust as to deceive the Lion, to whom you were so much beholding, you will with much more Confidence put your Tricks upon those to whom you are less oblig'd. This is the rea­son why your Company is dangerous.

While Damna and Kalila were thus Confa­bulating together, the Lion, whose passion was over, made great lamentations for Chotorb [...], saying, that he began to be sensible of his Loss, because of his extraordinary Endow­ments. [Page 107]I know not, added He, whether I did ill or well, nor whether what was report-of him were true or false. Thus musing for a while in a studious Melancholy, at length he repented his having punish'd a Subject, who might for ought he knew be innocent. Damna observing that the Lion was seiz'd with re­morse of Conscience, left Kalila, and accost-the King with a most respectful Humility, Sir, said He, what makes your Majesty so Pensive? Consider, that here your Enemy lies at your Feet, and fix your Eyes upon such an Object with delight. When I think upon Chotorbe's virtues, said the Lion, I cannot but bemoan his Loss. He was my Support and my Com­fort, and it was by his Prudent Counsel that my People liv'd in repose. It becomes not your Majesty, reply'd Damna, to bewail the Death of an unfaithful Subject. 'Tis true, he was profitable to the Public; but in regard he had a design upon your Person, you have done no more then what the wisest of Men advise, which is to cut off a Member that would prove the Destruction of the whole Body. These Admonitions gave the Lion a little com­fort. However Chotorbe's Innocence crying continually for Vengeance, was the reason that Damna's Artifices were discover'd, and that he receiv'd the Punishment which he deserv'd. For in regard that all his Enterprises were Capital, his End was also Miserable. He that will reap Wheat, must never sow Barly. He that only does good Actions, and thinks just Thoughts, will be happy in this World, and can or fail of being the same in the other.

CHAP. II. That the Wicked come to an ill End.

I Have with Attention heard, said Dabschelim, the History of a Sycophant, who by his Flatteries deceiv'd his Prince, and was the cause that he wrong'd his Ministers: Tell me therefore now, how the Lion came to discover Damna's Infidelities, and what was the end of this Fox.

Kings, answer'd the old Bramin, are by no means to give credit to the various reports that are whisper'd in their Ears, till they under­stand whether the Stories, which they hear, pro­ceed from the lips of Friends or Enemies. O­therwise what happen'd at the Lions Court will befal them also: Now this is the Account which I shall give your Majesty of those things which you desire 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 said; for the Reflections that he continually made upon the good services which the Ox had done him, plung [...]d him into so deep a Melancholy, that he abandon'd the care of his Dominions, and his Court became a Wilderness. He talk'd, with­out intermission, of Chotorbe's rare Endowments: And the good Character which others gave him was the only consolation with his grief would admit. One Night that he was wrapt up in Discourse with the Leopard concerning the Virtues of the Ox, Your Majesty, said the Leopard, too heavily afflicts your self for a [Page 109]thing which it is impossible to remedy: And he that turmoils himself to seek what he can­not find, not only never finds what he seeks, but loses what he has; as the Fox lost a Hide, to get a Hen which he long'd for.

The Fable of the Fox, the Wolf, and the H [...]n.

A Certain Fox that was ranging about in search of Food, found a large Piece of a raw Hide, which some wild Beast or other had let fall; he eat one part of it, and took the rest, with a design to carry it to his hole: But in his way near a Village he spy'd several Hens that were Plump and Fat, which a Boy had always in his Eye. These dainties set the Foxes Teeth a watering to that degree, that he left his raw Hide, which he was sure of, to get one of these delicate Morsels. At the same Instant came a Wolf up to him, and ask'd him what he gaz'd after with so much earnestness. Those Hens that you see yonder, answer'd the Fox; I would fain have one of 'em for my second Course. You lose your time, reply'd the Wolf, they are guarded by so vigilant a Ser­vant that 'tis impossible to get near 'em, with­out running a manifest Hazard. Content your self with your piece of raw Hide, for fear you meet with the same hard Fortune that befel the Ass, who looking after his Tail, lost his Ears.

The Fable of the Ass and the Gard'ner.

AN Ass had lost his Tail, which was a griev­ous Affliction to him; and as he was eve­ry where seeking after it, he pass'd through a Meadow and a Garden. But the Gard'ner seeing him, and believing he came to dig up his Garden, fell into a violent rage, ran to the Ass, and never standing upon the Ceremo­ny of a Pillory, cut off both his Ears. Thus the Ass who bemoan'd the loss of his Tail, was in a far greater Astonishment when he saw himself without Ears. Whoever he be, that takes not reason for his Guide, wanders about, and falls into Precipices.

The Fox, still importun'd by his Extraordi­nary longing after a Tite-bit, what come you hither for, said he to the Wolf, to trouble me with your Moral Fables? I will let you see, that he who has Courage, dares do any thing: And so saying, 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 business. In the mean time the Fox crept softly toward his feather'd Prey; but the Boy perceiving his Thievish and Bloody intention, threw a thumping Stone so luckily at him, that he hit him on the Foot. The poor Fox afraid least the Boy should reach his Pate next time, return'd with much more haste then he came, resolv'd to be contented with his piece of raw Hide. But, alas! that was gone too; for a Raven had carry'd it a­way; and then the Fox could have torn his own Flesh for Madness

You see, Sir, pursu'd the Leopard, that your Majesty ought never to despair, nor a­bandon the Government of your Dominions for the loss of one Subject. The Lion for a while stood mute, but then recovering his Speech, You say very true, said He, but I would revenge Chotorbe's Death, if I could find that he had been unjustly accus'd. Despond­ing, Sir, is not the way to attain your End, reply'd the Leopard: You must carefully ex­amin, whether the complaints that were brought you of his Miscarriages were true or no. If he were Guilty he has been deservedly Punish'd; if not the Accuser is to feel your severity. Then said the Lion to the Leopard, I appoint thee my Constable in his place; do thou all thou canst to find out the Truth.

Now in regard it was late, the Leopard took his leave of the Lion: But in his way to his Lodging, passing by Kalila's and Damna's A­partiment, he thought he heard 'em discours­ing together. Now in regard he suspected Damna to be no less wicked then indeed he was, his Curiosity led him to go near and listen. Kalila upbraided her Husband with his Perfi­diousness, his Dissimulation, and all the Artifi­ces he had made use of to ruin Chotorbe. The Leopard, fully inform'd by her reproaches of Damna's Treasons, went to the Lion's Mother, to whom he related what he had heard. She presently hasting to her Son, you have good reason said she, to be afflicted for the loss of Cho­torbe; for he dy'd Innocent. What proof have you of his Innocence? demanded the Lion. Pardon me, answer'd the Mother, if I am not so hasty to reveal a Secret which may inflame [Page 112]your anger, and prejudice the Person that has entrusted me. But I beseech you, listen to this Fable.

The Fable of the Prince and his Squire.

THere was a Prince who was very Potent, Rich, and Just. One Day as he rode a Hunting, said He to his Squire, I will run my Horse against thine, that we may see which is the Swiftest: I have a long time had a strange desire to make this Tryal. The Squire, in o­bedience to his Master, set Spurs to his Horse and rode full speed, and the King follow'd him. But when they were got a great distance from the Grandees and Nobles that accompany'd 'em, the King stopping his Horse, said He to his Squire, I had no other design in this, but to bring thee to a Place where we might be a­lone; for I have a secret to impart to thee, having found thee more faithful then any other of my Servants. I have a jealousie that the Prince my Brother is framing some contri­vance against my Person, and for that reason, I have made choice of thee to prevent him, but be discreet. The Squire swore he would be as true to him as his Skin, and so they stay'd till the Company overtook 'em, who were in great trouble for the King's Person. But the Squire, upon the first Opportunity he had to speak with the King's Brother, disclos'd to him the design that was Brewing to take away his Life: Which oblig'd the young Prince to thank him for his Information, and to promise him great Rewards.

Some few Days after the King dy'd, and his Brother succeded him: But then the first 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, said He, which you promis'd me? Yes, answer'd the new King, whoever reveals the Secrets of his Prince, deserves no less then Death: And since thou hast committed so foul a Crime thou de­serv'st to Dye. Thou that betrayd'st a King who put his Confidence in thee, and who lov'd thee above all his Court, how is it possible for me to trust thee in my Service? 'Twas in vain for the Squire to alledge any Reasons in his own Justification, they would not be heard, nor could he escape the stroke of the Executi­oner, because he could not keep a Secret.

You see by this Fable, Son, that Secrets are not to be Disclos'd. But my dear Mother, answer'd the King, he that entrusted you with this Secret, desires it should be made known; seeing he is the first that makes the Discovery: For if he could not keep it himself, how could he desire another to be so reserv'd? If what you would say be true, and that you desire I should have a full knowledge of it, I desire you to put me out of my pain. The Mother seeing her self so hardly prest; Then, said She, I inform you of a Criminal unworthy of Par­don: For tho' it be the saying of wise Men, that a King ought to be Merciful, yet there are certain Crimes that never ought to be for­giv'n 'Tis Damna I mean, pursu'd the Matron Lioness, who by his false Insinuations wrought Chotorbe's Fall: And having so said, [Page 114]she retir'd, leaving the Lion in a deep Amuse­ment. At length he summon'd an Assembly of the whole Court, at which Damna taking Umbrage, comes to one of the King's Favou­rites, and asks him if he knew the Reason of call­ing such an Assembly? which the Lion's Mo­ther over hearing, Yes, said she, 'tis to pro­nounce thy Death: for thy Artifices and jug­ling Politicks are discover'd. Madam, an­swer'd Damna, they who render themselves worthy of Esteem and Honour at Court by their Virtues, never fail of Enemies. Oh! that Men, added he, would act no otherwise then God! For he gives to every one according to his Desert; but Men on the other side fre­quently punish those who are worthy of Re­ward, and as often cherish those that deserve their Indignation. How much was I too blame to quit my Solitude, meerly to consecrate my life to the King's Service. Whoever, dissatis­fy'd with what he has, prefers the service of Men, before his Duty to God, shall early or late repent in vain; as may be seen by the en­suing Fable.

The Fable of a Hermite who quitted the Desart to live at Court.

A Certain Hermite, who had renounc'd the Pleasures of the World, led a very austere life in a Wilderness. His Virtue in a small time made such a Noise in the World, that an infinite Number flockt every Day to visit him; some out of Curiosity, others to consult him upon several Matters. The King of the Country, who was very devout, and who lov'd Men of worth, no sooner understood that there was in his Kingdom a Person of so much Virtue, but he rode to see him. He made him a Noble Present, and desir'd that he might hear some of his Profitable Exhortations. The Hermite, to satisfie the King, Sir, said he, God has two Habitations, the one Perish­able, which is the World; the other Eternal, which is Paradise. 'Tis not for your Majesty therefore, as Generous as you are, to dote up­on the Felicities of the Earth, you ought to aspire to those Eternal Treasures, the meanest part of which is of a Nobler Value then all the Principalities of the World: Try then, Sir, to attain the Possession of those Eternal Blessings. By what Assiduities may they be acquir'd? demanded the King. By relieving the Poor, answer'd the Hermite, and succour­ing the Distressed. All Princes that desire to enjoy Eternal Repose, must labour to give Temporal Tranquility to their Subjects.

The King was so taken with this Discourse, that he resolv'd to spend some Hours with this [Page 116]good Hermite every Day. Among the rest, one Day that the King and the Hermite were toge­ther in the Hermitage, they saw a confused Multitude of People thronging toward 'em, and rending the Air with the loud Crys of Justice, Justice. The Hermite bid 'em draw near, Ex­amin'd 'em, and having understood their Diffe­rences, made a quick Accommodation between 'em, without any trouble. The King, upon this, admiring the Hermites Prudence and Dis­patch, desir'd him to be present somtimes in his Councils, which the Hermite promis'd the King, believing he might be Beneficial to the Poor. In short, he was frequently in those Assemblies, and the King pronounc'd his De­crees according to his Judgment; in so much that at length he became so necessary, that no­thing was done in the Kingdom without his Advice.

The Hermite thus finding that Men made their Addresses to him, began to have a good Opinion of himself, and took upon him the Rank and Quality of Chief Minister. To which end he provided himself with a Rich Livery and a Numerous Train. He forgot his Austerities, his Penances, and his Prayers, and looking upon himself as one that could not be miss'd in the Government, he took great care of his own Person. He lay soft, and fed up­on the most Exquisite Dainties. The King also, who was otherwise very well satisfy'd with the Hermite, let him do as he pleas'd, and dis­charg'd upon his Shoulders the whole Burthen of the Kingdom's Cares.

One Day, another Hermite, a Friend to him that liv'd at Court, coming to visit his Brother, [Page 117]with whom he had frequently spent whole Nights in Prayer, whole Days in Fasting and Penitence, was astonish'd to see him environ'd with a great Number of Servants. Neverthe­less reserving his Patience, till Night had lockt up all the Court in dark Retirement; when all was husht, accosting the Courtier-Hermite, Oh, my dear Friend, said he, in what a Con­dition do I find you? What strange Alteration is this? The Court-Hermite would fain have Excus'd himself, by saying that he was con­strain'd to keep so great a Train. But his Brother, who was a Person of Wit and Judg­ment, these Excuses said he, are the Dictates of Sensuality. I see that Wealth and Preferments have enchanted your Devotion. What De­mon has put you out of conceit with our Praying Life? and why, forgeting the Du­ties of a retir'd Life, do you prefer noise before silence, and tumult before Ease? Think not, answer'd the Court-Hermite, that the Business of the Court is any hindrance to me from continuing my Pious Exercises. You deceive your self, reply'd the Hermite, to think that your Prayers can be heard while you serve the World, as they were when Holy and Hea­venly Duties took up all your time. Take my advice, and break these Chains of Gold that bind you to the Court; and return to your Desart, otherwise you will meet with the Cruel Destiny of the blind Man, who de­spis'd the Counsel of his Friend.

The Fable of a Blind Man, who Travelled with one of his Friends.

THere were two Men that Travell'd toge­ther; one of which which was stark Blind. These two Companions being surpriz'd by Night upon the Road enter'd into a Meadow, there to rest themselves till break of Day. So soon as Day appear'd, they rose, got a Horse­back, and continu'd their Journey. Now the blind Man instead of his Whip, had pick'd up a Ser­pent that was stiff with Cold: but having it in his hand he felt it somwhat softer then his Whip, which pleas'd him very much, because he thought he had gain'd by the Change, and therefore he never minded the loss 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, said he, You have taken up a Serpent, instead of your Whip, throw it out of your hand, before you feel the Mortal Caresses of the Venomous Ani­mal. But the blind Man, no less blind in his Intellects then his Body, believing that his Friend had only jested with him to get away his Whip, What! said he, d'you envy my good Luck? I lost my Whip that was worth nothing, and here my kind Fortune has sent me a new one. Pray don't take me for such a Changeling, but that I can distinguish a Ser­pent from a Whip. With that, his Friend not able to forbear Laughing, Companion, said he, I am oblig'd by the Laws of Friend­ship and Humanity to inform you of your Dan­ger: [Page 119]And therefore if you love your Life, throw away the Serpent. To which, the blind Man, more exasperated then persuaded, why d'you press me thus to throw away a thing which you intend to pick up your self? His Companion, to underceive him, swore he had no such de­sign, and protested to him that what he held in his hand was a Serpent. But neither Oaths nor Protestations would serve, the blind Man would not alter his Resolution. In the mean time the Sun began to grow high, and his Beams having warm'd the Serpent by degrees, he begun to wind himself about the blind Man's Arm, which he bit in such a Venomous manner, that he gave him his Deaths wound.

This Example teaches us, that we ought to distrust our Senses and that it is a difficult task to Master 'em, when we are in possession of the thing that flatters our fancy.

This judicious Admonition awak'd the Court-Hermite from his pleasing Dream: He open'd his Eyes, and survey'd the Hazards that he ran at Court; and bewailing the time which he had vainly spent in the service of the World, he past the Night in Sighs and Tears. But the Day being come, the new Honours that were done him, destroy'd all his Repentance: He began to thrust himself into all manner of Bu­siness, and became unjust, like the People of the World. One Day he Condemn'd to Death a Person who according to the Laws and Customs of the Country, ought not to have suffer'd Capital Punishment: After the Exe­cution of the Sentence, his Conscience teaz'd him with Reproaches that troubl'd his Repose for some time, and at length the Heirs of the [Page 120]Person whom he had unjustly Condemn'd, ob­tain'd leave of the King to inform against the Hermite, whom they accus'd of Injustice and Oppression. And the Council, after mature debate upon the Informations, order'd that the Hermit should suffer the same punishment which he had inflicted upon the Person de­ceas'd. The Hermite made use of all his Cre­dit and his Riches to save his Life. But the Decree of the Council was Executed.

I must confess, said Damna, that according to this Example, I ought to have been punish'd for having quitted my Solitude to serve the King.

Damna here giving over speaking, his Elo­quence was admir'd by all the Court. As for the Lion, he held down his Head, turmoil'd with so many various Thoughts, that he knew not what to resolve, nor what answer to give Damna. But while the Lion was in this Di­lemma, and that all the Courtiers kept silence, a certain Creature call'd Siagousch, who was one of the most faithful Servants the King had, stept forward, and spoke to this Effect.

All the Reproaches which thou throw'st upon those that serve the King, turn only to thy shame. For beside, that it does no way be­long to thee to propound this Question, know, that an Hour of Service done the King, is worth a hundred Years of Prayers. How many Persons of Merit have we seen, that have quit their little Cells to go to Court, where serving Princes, they have eas'd the People, and secur'd 'em from Tyrannical Oppressions? The Fable which I am going to tell you, may serve for a full proof of what I say.

The Fable of a religious Doctor and a Derwiche.

THere liv'd in a City of Persia, an ancient religious Doctor, who had the Reputati­on throughout the Kingdom, of being a very learned and vertuous Man. He was call'd Rouchan Zamir, that is to say, Clear Conscience. One day a Derwiche push'd on by the Mo­tions of an extraordinary Devotion, parted from Mauralnachos, which is the Name of a Province of Tartary, to visit this religious Do­ctor above mention'd, and to consult him upon some difficult Questions. After much pains and time he arriv'd at the Monastery, but the Doctor was not within, only his Companion was there, who observing that the Derwiche was weary and tyr'd, desir'd him to rest him­self; adding withall these words, This is the Hour that my Companion usually returns from Court, whither he goes every Day. But when the Derwiche heard that the religious Doctor, Clear Conscience, intermedl'd with State Af­fairs, Oh! cry'd he, how sorry I am to have come so far and lose my time, for there is no­thing to be got from a Man that frequents the Court. After this Discourse, he departed from the Convent, conceiving an ill Opinion of the religious Doctor. Now the Captain of the Watch was searching about that Day for a no­torious Robber, who had made his Escape 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, seiz'd him [Page 122]instead of the hainous Offender whom he sought for, and without examining him, car­ri'd him immediately to Execution. 'Twas in vain for the Derwiche to swear himself an honest Man, his Tale would not be heard; and already the Hang-man had his Knife rea­dy to chop off his Hand, when the religious Doctor returning from Court saw the Der­wiche in the Hands of the Executioner. Pre­sently the Doctor order'd him to be unty'd, affirming him to be one of his Brethren, and that it was impossible he should have commit­ted the Crime for which he was accus'd. Im­mediately the Executioner came to kiss the Doctor's Hand, and unbound the Derwiche, who accompany'd the Doctor to his Convent. By the way, said the Doctor to the Derwiche, be not surpriz'd, that I spend the greatest part of my time at Court: I live not after this man­ner but only to deliver from Death the Inno­cent, such as you are. Then the Derwiche ac­knowledging that he had made a rash Judgment, told the Doctor, that from that time forward, he would never blame those that went to Court for the Glory of God.

By this Example, added Siagousch, we see that the greatest observers of the Law are not always banisht from the Court. And thou, said he to Damna, com'st here to make ridiculous Compa­risons. Tis very true, reply'd Damna, that some­times most vertuous Men do live at Court; but 'tis after they have implor'd the succour of Hea­ven; because they know full well, that unless Heaven particularly protect 'em, they must of necessity ruin themselves. Besides they never come to Court, till they have absolutely laid [Page 123]aside all private Interest, which is the most dangerous Rock that they can split against. I must confess, that with a Mind so free from Interest, a Man may imbrace all sorts of Con­ditions. But we that are not endow'd with such a sublime Vertue, how shall we exercise an Employment so dangerous, unless we serve just and penetrating Princes, who, being able to distinguish faithful from wicked Servants, reward and punish 'em according to the Rules of Justice.

Then the Mother of the Lyon taking her turn, You speak against your self, said she to Damna, since this Assembly sits not here but on­ly to upbraid ye for your Perfidie, and for destroying one of the King's most faithful Sub­jects. Madam, reply'd Damna, his Majesty is not ignorant, no more then this Assembly, that there never was any Quarrel or Dispute between the Ox and me. On the other side, 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 Majesty of an Attempt that was forming against his Per­son; however, I said nothing but what I heard with my Ears and saw with my own Eyes. I acted without Passion or Interest: For what Advantage could I reap by Chotorbe's Death? The Favours which I have receiv'd from the King my Master, and the Duty I owe him, would they permit me to conceal from him such a piece of Treason? And as for those that now accuse me, they are only such as fear me; and they seek my Life, to the end I should not discover their Enterprises.

These Words Damna pronounc'd with such a constancy and presence of Mind, that the Lyon, not knowing what to resolve, We must refer this Cause, said he, to a select number of Judges; because it is my Plea­sure that this Cause be well examin'd. Most justly ordain'd, cry'd Damna, for that they who judge with Precipitation, judge amiss. Nothing is to be decided without having a perfect knowledge of the Cause, for fear of being deluded as the Woman was, whose Ad­venture I am going to tell your Lordships.

The Fable of the Female Coquette and the Painter.

A Merchant of the City of Cachemir had a ve­ry beautiful Wife, who lov'd and was be­lov'd by a Painter who excell'd in his Art. These two Lovers neglected no Opportuni­ty to be in each others Company. One day, said the Mistress to her Gallant, I find that when you have a desire to speak to me, you are constrain'd to make a great many trou­blesome Signs, as counterfeiting your Voice, throwing Stones, Whistling, Spitting, and the like; but I would spare you all this pains. Cannot you think of some Invention that may serve us for a Signal. Yes, yes, reply'd the Painter, I will paint two Vails, the whiteness of one of which shall surpass the brightness of a Star that appears in the Water, and the black­ness of the other shall outvie the Locks of a [Page 125]Moor. When you see me come forth with these Vails, you shall know what they signi­fie. The Painter's Prentice, who was no less in love with the Woman, then his Master, being in the next Room heard this Agree­ment between the two Lovers, which pleas'd him extremely; because he resolv'd to make his advantage of it. In short, one Day that his Master was gone to draw some Lady's Picture in the City, he took the Vail of Assig­nation, and walk'd before the House of the Mer­chant's Wife, who stood watching at the Win­dow. She no sooner perceiv'd him, but with­out considering either the Prentice's Counte­nance, or his Gate, she came down and admitted his Caresses as she was wont to do the Pain­ter's. The Prentice, when he had satisfi'd his Passion, return'd home and put the Vail where he had it. At the same time, the Painter be­ing come back, had a provocation to see his Mistress, who very much wonder'd to see the Vail again so soon, butran to meet her Joy, and imprudently ask'd him the reason of his so quick return. The Painter, then smelling a Rat, said not a word, but flung from her in a Passion, flew to his Prentice, and made him pay dear for the Pleasure he had tasted. And then reflecting upon the easie condescention of the Merchant's Wife to satisfie the Desires of his Man, brake off all familiarity with her. Now if the Woman had not yielded so readily to the extasies of the Prentice, she had not lost so passionate, tho' criminal a Lover.

The Lyon's Mother observing that her Son gave ear to Damna with delight, was afrai d least the subtle Fox should by his Eloquence put [Page 126]a stop to the Course of Justice. Son, therefore, said she to the Lyon, my Mind gives me, that you believe Damna Innocent, and that you look upon as false Accusers all those that have te­stifyd against him. I never thought, continu'd she, that a King, who is lookt upon to be the most Just of Princes, could suffer himself to be seduced by the fair Words and glozing Insinuations of a Capital Offender, who endea­vours to escape the rigour of the Law: And so saying, she rose up in a great Passion, and re­tir'd to her own Apartment. The Lyon there­fore, to pacifie his Mother, or rather begining to believe Damna Guilty, order'd him to be Committed.

When the Room was clear, his Mother re­turn'd, and addressing her self to her Son, I know not, said she, how a Person of so much Understanding came to suffer himself to be tempted to so great a Crime. 'Twas Envy certainly, answer'd the King, which made him commit so foul a piece of Treachery. Envy, pursu'd he, is a Vice that keeps the Mind in a perpetual Motion, and torments it with conti­nual Disquiet. There are also some envious Persons who bear a Grudge, even to those that do 'em good. As you will find by the follow­ing Example.

The Fable of three envious Persons that found Money.

THree Men travelled together: Said the el­dest to the rest, pray be pleas'd to tell me, why you leave your Houses to wander in Fo­reign Countries. I have quitted my native Soil, answer'd one, because I could not endure the sight of some Persons whom I hated worse then Death: And this proceeds from a jealous Humour, that cannot endure to see another happy. The same Distemper, said the third, torments my Breast, and sends me a rambling about the World. Then we are all three, re­ply'd the eldest, troubl'd with the same Disease. Now ▪these Men being of the same Humour, immediately clos'd in a Union together. One day as they travell'd through a Valley, they spy'd a round Bag of Money, which some Tra­veller had dropt in the Road. Presently they alighted all three, and cry'd one to another, let us share this Money, and return home again where we may be merry and injoy our selves. But this they only said from the Teeth out­ward; for every one being unwilling that his Companion should have the least Benefit, they were every one at a stand, whether it were not best to go on without medling with the Bag, to the end the rest might do the same: and they stopt a whole Day and Night in the same place to consider what they should do. Two days after the King of the Country riding a Hunting with all his Court, the Chase led him into this Valley. He rode up to the three [Page 128]Men, and ask'd 'em what they did with the Money that lay on the Ground; and being thus surpriz'd, they could not avoid telling the Truth. Sir, said they, we are all three tur­moil'd with the same Passion, which is Envy. This Passion 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 Passion. Well, said the King, 'tis requisite, that every one of you should tell me to what degree his Passion prevails over him, to the end I may apply a Remedy if it lye in my Power. My Envy, said the one, has got such head, that I cannot endure to do good to any Man living. You are an honest Man in comparison of me, cry'd the second; for I am so far from doing good to another my self, that I mortally hate, that any body else should do another Man good. Said the third, you nei­ther of you possess the quality of Envy in so eminent a degree as I do. For I cannot only endure to oblige, nor to see any other person oblig'd, but I hate that any body should do my self a Kindness. The King was so astonish'd to hear 'em talk at that rate, that he knew not what to answer. At length, after he had stu­dy'd a long time, You deserve not, said he, that I should let you have the Money, and at the same time commanded the Bag to be taken from 'em, and condemn'd 'em to the Punish­ments which they had incur'd. He that could not endure to do good, was sent into the De­sart, barefoot and without Provision. He that could not endure to see good done to another, had his Head chopt off; because he was un­worthy to live, as being one that lov'd nothing [Page 129]but Mischief. And lastly, as for him that could not endure any good to be done to himself, his Life was spar'd; in regard his torment was only a torment to himself, and he was put into a quarter of the Kingdom, where the People were the best natur'd, and the most addicted to the performance of good Deeds and charitable Actions. Which became such torment to his Soul, that he dy'd soon after.

Thus, continu'd the Lyon, you see what Envy is. Therefore, said the Mother, so much the rather ought Damna to be put to Death, since he is attainted of so dangerous a Vice. That is the thing I am not well assur'd of yet, reply'd the Lyon, which I am resolv'd to be, before he be Condemn'd.

After Damna was committed to Prison, his Wife Kalila, mov'd with Compassion, went to see him, and read him this Curtain Lecture. Did I not tell ye, said she, that it behov'd ye to take a care of going on with the execution of your Enterprise? for People of Judgment and Discretion never begin a Business till they have warily consider'd what will be the Issue of it. A Tree is never to be planted before we know what Fruit it will produce. While Kalila was thus Jobing Damna, there was in the Prison a Bear, of whom they were not a­ware, and who having overheard 'em, resolv'd to make use of what his Ears had furnish'd him withal, as occasion should direct him.

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 Punishment of a capital Offender, then the [Page 130]Condemnation of the Innocent is to be carried on with Precipitation: And a King that for­bears the Punishment of a Caitiff, sins no less then if he had been a Confederate with him. The Lyon finding that his Mother spoke nothing but Reason, commanded that Damna should be brought to his Tryal. Then the Cheif Ju­stice rising from his Seat, desir'd his Assistants to give their Opinion in this Matter; saying withal, that it would produce three great Ad­vantages. First, That Truth would be found out, and Justice done. Secondly, That wick­ed Men and Traytors would be punish'd ac­cording to the Will of God. And Thirdly, That the Kingdom would be cleard of Knaves and Imposters, who, by their Artifices, trou­bl'd the Repose of it. But in regard that no body knew the depth of the Business, no body durst open their Mouths to speak; which gave Damna an occasion to defend himself with so much the more Confidence and Audacitie. Sir, said he, had I committed the Crime of of which I stand accus'd, I might draw some Advantage from the general Silence: But I find my self so Innocent, that I wait with in­differency the end of this Assembly. Never­theless, I must needs say this by the way, That seeing 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 speaking in my own Justification: I am to be excus'd in that, since it is lawful for every Man to defend himself. Therefore, said he, pursuing his Discourse, I beseech all this Illustrious Company to say in the King's Presence, whatever they know concerning me; [Page 131]but let 'em have a care of affirming any thing but what is true, lest they find themselves in­volv'd in what befel the ignorant Physician.

The Fable of the ignorant Physician.

THere was a Man who was altogether void of Knowledge and Experience, yet call'd himself a Physician. However he was so Igno­rant, that he knew not the Cholick from the Dropsie, nor could he distinguish Rhubarb from Bezoar. He never visited a Patient twice, for his first coming kill'd him. On the other side, there was in the same Province another Physician of that Learning and Ability, that he cur'd the most desperate Diseases by the vertue of many Simples, of which he had a perfect knowledge. Now this learned Man became blind, and not being able to visit his Patients, he retir'd into a Desart, there to live at his Ease. The ignorant Physician no sooner under­stood that the only Man he lookt upon with an envious Eye was retir'd out of the way, but he began to display his Ignorance, while he endeavour'd to manifest his Knowledge. One Day the King of the Country's Daughter fell sick: Upon which the knowing Physician was sent for, because, that besides that he had al­ready serv'd the Court, People were convinc'd that he was much more able then he that went about to set himself up. The learned Phy­sician being in the Princess's Chamber, and understanding the nature of her Disease, order'd [Page 132]her to take a certain Pill compos'd of such In­gredients as he prescrib'd. Presently they ask'd him where such and such Drugs were to be had. Formerly, answer'd the Physician, I have seen them in such and such Boxes in the King's Treasurie, but what Confusion there might have been since among those Boxes he knew not. Upon that the ignorant Physi­cian pretended that he knew the Drugs very well, and that he also knew how to make use of 'em. Go then, said the King, to my Trea­surie, and take what is requisite. Away went the ignorant Physician, and fell a searching for the Box; but because many of the Boxes were alike, and for that he knew not the Drugs when he saw 'em, he rather chose, in the puzzle of his Judgment, to take a Box at a venture, then to acknowledge his stupidi­ty. But he never consider'd, that they who meddle with what they understand not, are ge­nerally constrain'd to an early or late Repen­tance. For in the Box which he had pick'd out, there was a most exquisite Poyson, of which he made his Pills, and which he caus'd the Princess to take, who dy'd immediately after: So that the King commanded the ignorant Physician to be apprehended, and condemn'd him to Death.

This Example, pursued Damna, teaches us, that no Man ought to say or do a thing which he understands not. However, a Man may perceive by your Physiognomie, said one of the Assistants, interrupting him, that you are a fly Companion, one that can talk better then you can act, and there­fore, [Page 133]that there is little heed to be given to what you say. Then the Judge ask'd him that spoke last, what Proof he could produce of the certainty of what he averr'd. Physiog­nomists, answer'd he, observe, that they who have their Eyebrows parted, the left Eye blear'd, and bigger then the right, the Nose turn'd toward the left side, and who coun­terfeiting your Hypocrites, cast their Eyes al­ways toward the Ground, are generally Tray­tors and Sycophants: And therefore Damna having all these Marks, I thought I might safely give that Character of him which I have done, without any Injury to Truth. Your Art may fail you, reply'd Damna, for 'tis God who forms us as he pleases, and gives us such a Physiognomy as he thinks fitting. If what you say were true, and that every Man carry'd written in his Forehead what he had in his Heart, whereby the Wicked might cer­tainly be distinguish'd from the Righteous, there would be no need of Judges and Witnes­ses to determin the Disputes and Differences that arise in civil Society. In like manner it would be unjust to put some to their Oaths, others to the Rack to discover the Truth, be­cause it might be evidently seen. Moreover, if the Marks you have mention'd impos'd a ne­cessity upon those that bear 'em, would it not be palpable Injustice to punish the Wicked, since they are not free in their own Actions? We must then conclude, according to this Maxime, that if I were the cause of Chotorb [...]'s Death, I am not to be punish'd for it, since I am not Master of my Actions, but was forc'd to it by the Marks which I bear. You see then [Page 134]by this way of arguing, that your Inferences are false. Damna having thus stopt the Assi­stant's Mouth, no body durst adventure to say any thing more; which forc'd the Judge to send him back to Prison; and in the mean time the Court made their Report to the King of what had pass'd.

Damna being still in Prison, was about to have sent a Messenger to Kalila to come to him; but a Fox that was in the Room by accident, spar'd him that labour, by informing him of Kalilah's Death, who dy'd the Day before for Grief to see her Husband entan­gled in such an unfortunate Noose.

The News of Kalilah's Death touch'd Dam­na so nearly to the Quick, that like one who car'd not to live any longer, he seem'd to be altogether comfortless. Upon which, the Fox endeavour'd to chear him up, by telling him, that if he had lost a dear and loving Wife, he had found in him a faithful Friend. There­upon Damna knowing he had no Friend left that he could trust, and for that the Fox so frankly proffer'd him his Service, accepted his Kindness. I beseech you, said Damna, go to the Court, and give me a faithful account of what People say of me: 'Tis the first proof of your Friendship which I desire of you.

Most willingly, answer'd the Fox; and so taking his leave he went to the Court, to see what Observations he could make.

The next Day, by break of day, the Ly­on's Mother went to her Son, and ask'd him what he had done with Damna? He is still in Prison, answer'd the King. What a Rack­er is here, reply'd the Mother, to condemn a [Page 135]rascally Fellow! and by my Troth, I'm afraid, when all's done, he'll escape your simple Heads by his Dexterity and Cunning. If you please to be present, answer'd the King, you shall see what will be resolv'd upon. Which said, he order'd Damna to be sent for, that the Business might be brought to a conclusion. The King's Or­ders were obey'd, and the Prisoner brought to the Bar, the Chief Justice put the same Question as the Day before, whether any body had any thing to say against Damna. But no body said a word, which Damna observing, I see, said he, that there is no body very forward to bear false Witness, for fear of exposing himself to the Punishment which the Faulconer incurr'd, for having given a false Testimony.

The Fable of the vertuous Woman and the young Faulconer.

A Very honest Citizen had a Wife no less mo­dest then beautiful. Among the rest of his Servants he had a young Lad that was ve­ry vicious, but he could not find in his heart to put him away, because he was a good Faulconer. Now in regard it is the Custom of the Eastern People to keep their Women very private, this Lad for a long time had never seen his Mistress. But having view'd her one Day by accident, he became passionate­ly in love with her. He courted her by the means of a Female Solicitrix; but both he and she lost all their labour, because he had to do with a vertuous Woman. At length, despairing to prosper in his Amours, he chang'd his Love into Hatred, and medi­tated a most bloody Revenge. To which effect, he went and bought two Parrots: One of which he taught to pronounce these Words, I saw my Mistress a bed with the Faulconer. And the other, For my part, I say nothing. In a little time after, the Citizen having in­vited certain of his Friends to a great Feast, when every body was seated at the Table, these Parrots began to repeat their Lesson. Now you must understand that the Faulconer had taught these Parrots to speak these words in his own Country Language. Which be­cause the Master, Mistress, nor any of the Servants understood, no body minded what they said. But the Guests, who happen'd to [Page 137]be the Faulconer's Country-men, no sooner heard the Parrots, but they forbore Eating. The Citizen astonish'd, ask'd 'em the reason. Do ye not understand, answer'd the Guests, what these Birds say? No— reply'd the Citizen. Why, they say, said the Guest that spoke first, they say that your Faulconer has made you a Cuckold. The Citizen had bin so surpriz'd at these words, that he begg'd pardon of his Friends for having invited 'em to a place where so much uncleanness had been committed. The Faulconer also, the more to exasperate his Master against his Wife, confess'd the Fact, and said 'twas true. Which put the Citizen into so great a Rage, that he order'd his Wife to be put to Death.

But when they that were order'd to exe­cute her Husband's Command came to her, she told 'em, that she was ready to suffer the Punishment which he thought fit to inflict upon her; however, she could have wish'd he would have heard her first; for that if her In­nocence should afterwards come to be known, his Repentance would be too late. This being reported to her Husband, he sent for her into a little Closet, whither he order'd her to come veil'd, and bid her justify her self, if she could. For the Parrots, said he, are no rational Creatures, and therefore cannot be accus'd either of Imposture or Bribery: How then will you justifie your self?

You are bound, answer'd the Woman, to be well assur'd of the truth before you con­demn me. Ask those Gentlemen then, whe­ther they observe any variety of Relation in the Parrot's Speech, or whether they only repeat [Page 138]the same thing over and over again. If they only repeat the same thing, be convinc'd that it is only a Device made use of by your Servant, to provoke your underserved anger against me, because he could not obtain those Favours from me which he desir'd.

The Citizen judging by her prudent Advice that the Woman might not be guilty, went to his Guests, carry'd 'em the Parrots, and de­sir'd 'em diligently to observe for two or three Days, whether the Birds spoke any thing else besides what they had heard: Which the Guests accordingly did. In short they found that the Parrots were always in the same Lesson; of which they inform'd the Citizen, who then acknowledg'd the innocence of his Wife, and was sensible of the Malice of his Servant, whom he sent for. The Faulconer instantly appear'd with his Hawk upon his Fist; to whom the Woman, Villain, said she, how didst thou dare to accuse me of so foul a Crime? Because you were guilty, answer'd the Servant. But he had no sooner utter'd the Words, when the Hawk upon his Fist flew in his Face and tore out his Eyes. This was the Fruit of his insolence, and slanderous Malice.

This Example, said Damna, pursuing his Discourse, instructs us, how hainous a thing it is to bear false Witness: For it always turns to our Shame and Confusion. After Damna had done speaking, the Lion looking upon his Mother, ask'd her Opinion. I find, answer'd she, that you have a kindness for this wicked Varlet, who will cause nothing [Page 139]but Faction and Disorder in your Court, if you have not a great Care. I beseech you, re­ply'd the Lion, to tell me who has so strongly prepossess'd you against Damna. 'Tis but too true, reply'd the Queen Mother, that he has committed the Crime that is lay'd to his Charge, but I shall not discover the Person who entrusted me with this Secret. However I will go to him, and ask him whether he will be willing that I should bring him in for a Witness: And so saying, she went home im­mediately and sent for the Leopard.

When he was come, go, said she at my re­quest, and boldly declare what thou knowst concerning Damna. Madam answer'd the Leopard, you know that I am ready to sacri­fice my Life to your Majesties Commands, dispose of me as you please. With that she carry'd the Leopard to the King, to whom, Sir, said she, here is an undeniable Witness which I have to produce against Damna. Then the Lion addressing himself to the Leopard, ask'd him what proofs he had of the Delin­quents Treason. Sir, answer'd the Leopard, I was willing to conceal this Truth on pur­pose for sometime, to see what reasons he would bring to justifie himself. Then the Leopard made a long recital of what had past between Kalila and her Husband. Which deposition being made in the hearing of seve­ral Beasts, was soon divulg'd far and near, and then confirm'd by a second Testimony, which was the Bear, of whom I made menti­on before. After this the Delinquent was ask'd what he had to say for himself: But then he had not a Word more to say: Which [Page 140]at length determin'd the Lion to pronounce Sentence, that Damna, as a Traytour, should be shut up between four Walls, and there starv'd to Death.

These two Chapters are lessons to Deceiv­ers and Sycophants, that they ought to re­form their Manners: And I think I have sufficiently made it out, that Slanderers and Backbiters for the most part, come to an unfortunate End; besides, that they render themselves Odious to all human Society. He that plants Thorns, must never expect to gather Roses.

CHAP. III. How we ought to make choice of Friends, and what advantage may be reap'd from their Conversation.

YOU have told me, said the King, the Story of a Knave, who under the false appearances of Friendship, occasion'd the Death of an inno­cent Person: Now I desire you to tell me what Benefit may be made of Friends in civil Life. Your Majesty, answer'd the Bramin, ought to know, that honest Men esteem and value no­thing so much in this World, as a real Friend. Because he is as it were another self, to whom we impart our most secret Thoughts, who par­takes of our Joy, and comforts us in our Af­fliction: Add to this that his Company is an extraordinary Pleasure to us. The Fable which I am going to relate, will give you a more clear Idea of the sweets of Reciprocal Friendship.

The Fable of the Raven, the Rat, the Pi­geon, the Tortoise, and the Goat.

NEar adjoyning to Caschmir, there was a most delightful Place, and in regard it was full of Wild-fowl, it was much frequen­ted by Fowlers. A Raven espy'd at the foot of a Tree, on the top of which he had built his Nest, a certain Fowler with a Net in his hand. The poor Raven was afraid at first, imagining it was himself that the Fowler aim'd at. But his fears ceas'd, when he ob­serv'd the Motions of the Person, who after he had spread his Net upon the Ground, and scatter'd some Corn about it to allure the Birds, went and hid himself behind a Hedge, where he was no sooner laid down, but a flock of Pigeons, threw themselves upon the Corn, without hearkning to their Chieftain, who would fain have hinder'd 'em, telling 'em that they were not so rashly to abandon them­selves to their Passions. This Prudent Leader, who was an old Pigeon, call'd Montivaga, per­ceiving 'em so indocible and obstinate, had a desire to separate from 'em: But Fate that im­periously Controuls us, constrain'd him to fol­low the Fortune of the Rest, so that he alight­ed upon the Ground with his Companions. Thus when they saw themselves under the Net, and just ready to fall into the Fowlers hands, Well! said Montivaga, what think you now, will you believe me another time? I see, continu'd he, perceiving how they flut­ter'd to get loose, that every one of you minds [Page 143]his own safety, never regarding what becomes of his Companion. We ought to make it our Business to help one another; and it may be that so Charitable an Action may save us. Let us altogether strive to break the Net. With that, they all obey'd Montivaga, and so well bestirr'd themselves, that they tore the Net and carry'd it up into the Air. Upon which, the Fowler, vex'd to lose so fair a Prey, follow'd the Pigeons, in hopes that the weight of the Net would tire 'em.

In the mean time the Raven observing all this, said he to himself, this is a very pleasant Adventure, I'm resolv'd to see the Issue of it. Montivaga observing, that the Fowler was re­solv'd to follow 'em, this wicked Man, said he to his Companion, will never give over pursuing us, till he has lost sight of us; and therefore let us bend our slight to some thick Wood, or some ruin'd Castle, to the end that being protected by some Forrest or thick Wall, despair may force him to retire. This Expedi­ent had the desir'd Success: For having se­cur'd themselves among the Boughs of a thick Forrest, where the Fowler lost sight of 'em, he return'd home, full sorely afflicted for the loss of his Net, and his Game to boot.

As for the Raven, he follow'd 'em still, ra­ther out of Curiosity then otherwise, to know how they got out of the Net, to the end he might make use of the same Secret, upon the like Occasion.

The Pigeons thus quit of the Fowler, were overjoy'd; however they were still troubl'd with the entanglements of the Net which they could not get rid of: But Montivaga, who [Page 144]was fertile in Inventions found a way for that. We must address our selves, said he, to some intimate Friend, who setting aside all Treache­rous and By-ends, will go faithfully to Work. I know a Rat that lives not far from hence, a faithful Friend of mine whose name is Zirac; he will gnaw the Net, and set us at Liberty. The Pigeons, who desir'd nothing more, con­sented to it: And soon after they arriv'd at the Rat's hole, who came forth upon the flut­tering of their Wings; and who wondering no less to see Montivaga so intangl'd in the Net, Oh! my dear Friend, said he, how came you into this Condition? To whom Montivaga, I desire you, said he, first of all to disingage my Companions. But Zirac, more troubl'd to see his Friend bound, needs would pay his Respects to him; at what time Montivaga, I Conjure you once more, said he, to set my Companions at Liberty before me: For besides that being their Chieftain, I ought to take care for them in the first place, I am afraid the pains thou wilt take to unbind me, will slacken thy good Offices to the Rest; whereas the Friendship thou hast for me, will excite the [...] to hasten their deliverance, that thou mayst be the sooner in a Condition to give me my [...]reedom. The Rat admiring the solidity of these Arguments, applauded Montivaga's Generosity, and fell to unloosen the Strangers; which was soon done, and then he perform'd the same kind Office for his Friend.

Montivaga thus at Liberty, together with his Companions, took his leave of Zirac, returning him a thousand Th [...]nks for his Kind­ness▪ And when they were gone, the Rat re­turn'd to his hole.

The Raven having observ'd all this, had a great desire to be acquainted with Zirac. To which end he went to Zirac's hole, and call'd him by his name. Zirac frighted to hear a strange Voice, ask'd who he was? To which the Raven answer'd, 'tis a Raven who has some Business of Importance to impart to thee. What Business, reply'd the Rat, can we have together? We are Enemies. Then the Ra­ven told him, he desir'd to list himself in the Number of a Rat's friends whom he knew to be so sincere a Friend. I beseech you, answer'd Zirac, find out some other Creature, whose Friendship agrees better with your Disposition. You lose your time in endeavouring to per­suade me to such an incompatible Friendship. Never stand upon incompatibilities, said the Raven, but do a generous Action, by affording a Person the succour which he desires at your hands. You may talk to me, of Generosity till your Lungs ake, reply'd Zirac, I know your Tricks too well: In a word, we are of a Species so different, that we can never set our Horses together. The Example of the Partridge, that over hastily granted her Friend­ship to a Falcon, is a sufficient warninig to make me Wiser.

The Fable of the Partridge and the Faul­con.

A Partridge, said Zirac, pursuing his Discourse was promenading at the foot of a Hill, and jurring so delightfully, that a Falcon fly­ing that way, and hearing her sweet Voice, desir'd her acquaintance. No body, said he to himself, can live without a Friend: It be­ing the saying of wise Men, that they who want Friends, labour under perpetual Sickness. With that he would fain have accosted the Partridge; but she perceiving him, escap'd into a hole, all over of a Cold Sweat for fear. The Falcon follow'd her, and present­ing himself at the foot of the hole, My dear Partridge, said he, I never had any great kindness hitherto for you, because I did not know your Merit; but since my good Fortune now has made me better acquainted with it, be pleas'd to give me leave that I may offer you my Friendship, and that I may beg of you, to grant me yours. Tyrant, answer'd the Partridge, let me alone, and labour not in vain to reconcile Fire and Water. Most amiable Partridge, reply'd the Falcon, banish these idle Fears, and be convinc'd that I love you, and desire that we may enter into a Fami­liarity together. Had I any other design, I would not trouble my self to Court you with such soft Language out of your Hole. I have such good Pounces, that I would have seiz'd a dozen of Partridges in the time that I have been courting your Affection: And I am sure [Page 147]you will be glad of my Friendship: First be­cause no Falcon shall do you any harm, while you are under my Protection. Secondly, be­cause that being in my Nest, you will be honour'd by all the World; and lastly 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 Proposal: For you being the Prince of Birds, and I a poor silly Partridge, whenever I shall do any thing that shall displease you, you will be sure to tear me to pieces. No, no, said the Falcon, set your heart at rest for that: The faults that Friends commit are easily pardon'd. At length the Falcon testify'd such an extraordinary Friendship for the Partridge, that she could no longer refuse coming out of her Hole: And no sooner was she come forth, but the Falcon ten­derly embrac'd her; he carry'd her to his Nest, where for two or three Days he made it his whole Business to divert her. The Partridge overjoy'd to see her self so Caress'd, gave her Tongue more liberty then she had done before; which began to offend the Falcon, tho' he dis­sembl'd it. One Day he fell ill; which hin­der'd him from going abroad in search of Prey; so that he grew hungry; and wanting Victuals he grew melancholy. His being out of hu­mour allarm'd the Partridge, who kept her self in a Corner with a very modest Countenance. But the Falcon no longer able to endure the importunities of his Stomach, resolv'd to pick a slight Quarrel with the Partridge. To which purpose, 'tis not fitting, said he, that you should lye lurking in the shade, while all the World is expos'd to the heat of the Sun. The Par­tridge, [Page 148]trembling every joynt of her, King of Birds, said she, 'tis now Night, and all the World is in the shade as well as I; nor do I know what Sun you mean. Insolent Baggage; reply'd the Falcon, then you'l make me either a Liar or a Mad-man: And so saying, he fell upon her and tore her to pieces.

Do not you believe, pursu'd the Rat, that upon the faith of your Promises I will lye at your Mercy. Recollect your self, answer'd the Raven, and consider that 'tis not worth my while to fool my stomach with such a diminu­tive Body as thine: But I know thy Friendship may be beneficial to me: Scruple not therefore to grant me this Favour. The Sages of old, reply'd the Rat, admonish us to take care of being deluded by the fair words of our Ene­mies, as was the Gentleman, whose Story I am going to recite.

The Fable of the Man and the Adder.

A Man mounted upon a Camel, past through a Thicket, and went to rest himself in that part of it, from whence a Caravan was but just departed, and where the People hav­ing left a Fire, some sparks of it being driven by the Wind, set a Bush, wherein lay an Adder, all in a flame; which environ'd the Adder in such a manner, that he knew not how to escape. At the same Instant he per­ceiv'd the Man already mention'd, and beg'd of him to save his Life. The Man being na­turely compassionate, said he to himself, 'tis true these Creatures are Enemies to mankind; however good Actions are of great Value: and whoever sows the seed of good Works shall reap the Fruit of Blessings. After he had made this Reflexion, he took a Sack, and ty­ing it to the end of his Lance, reach'd it over the flame to the Adder, who flung himself 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 Business, provided he never did any more harm to Men, since a Man had done him so great a piece of Service. But the Adder answer'd, think not that I in­tend to be gone so calmly: My design is first to throw my Venom upon thee and thy Ca­mel. Be more just, reply'd the Knight, and tell me whether it be lawful to recompence good with evil. In so doing, said the Adder, I shall do no more, then what your selves do every Day; that is to say, retaliate good [Page 150]Deeds with wicked Actions, and requite Bene­fits receiv'd with Ingratitude. You cannot prove that assertion, reply'd the Knight; and if you can shew me any one that is of your O­pinion, I'll consent to whatever you think fit­ing. Very good, answer'd the Adder, and at the same time spying a Cow, let us pro­pound our Question, said he to this Cow, and we shall see what answer she will make. The Man consented, and so both of 'em accosting the Cow, the Adder put the Question to her, how a good turn was to be requited? By its contrary, reply'd the Cow, according to the Custom of Men; and this I know by experi­ence. I belong, said she, to a Man, to whom I am several ways extreamly Benefical: For I bring him a Calf every Year, I supply his House with Milk, Butter, and Cheese, and now I am grown Old, and no longer in a Condition to serve him as formerly I did, he has put me in this Pasture to Fat me, with a design to sell 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 speak, said he to the Man, what say you now, are not your own Customs a sufficient warrant for me to treat you, as I intend to do? The Knight, not a little astonish'd, made answer, one Witness is not enough to convince me, I must have two. With all my heart, reply'd the Adder; let us address our selves to this Tree, that stands here before us. The Tree having heard the Sub­ject of their Dispute, among Men, said he, Benefits are never requited but with ungrate­ful Actions. I protect Travellers from the heat of the Sun, nevertheless, forgeting the [Page 151]Deligh and Benefit of my shade, they cut down my Branches to make Sticks, and Handles for Hatchets, and more then horridly barbarous they saw 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 satisfy'd? But he was in such a Confusion, that he knew not what to answer. However, in hopes to free himself from the danger that threaten'd him, said he to the Adder, I desire but one favour more; let us be judg'd by the [...]xt Beast we meet; give me but that satisfaction, 'tis all I crave; for you know Life is sweet. While they were thus parlying together, a Fox passing by, was stopp'd by the Adder, who Conjur'd him to put an end to their Controversie. Upon which the Fox desiring to know the Subject of their Dis­pute; said the Knight, I have done this Adder a signal piece of Service, and he would fain persuade me that for my reward he ought to do me a Mischief. He speaks nothing but what is true, reply'd the Fox; but let me under­stand what service you have done him? Then the Knight up and told him after what manner he had rescu'd him out of the flames, with that little Sack which he shew'd him. How! said the Fox, laughing out-right, will you make me be­lieve, that so large an Adder could get into such a little Sack as this? 'tis impossible: But if the Adder will go into it again, to convince me of the Truth of what you say, I shall then be a­ble to judge of his Affair. Most willingly, reply'd the Adder, and at the same time put himself into the Sack. Then said the Fox to the Knight, now you are the Master of [Page 152]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 Disputes of the other.

This Fable, pursu'd the Rat, informs us, that there is no trusting to the fair words of an Enemy, for fear of falling into the like Mis­fortunes. You say very true, reply'd the Raven, but we ought as well to understand how to distinguish Friends from Enemies: And I swear I will not depart from hence, till thou hast granted me thy Friendship. Zirac per­ceiving that the Raven dealt frankly and cor­dially with him, 'tis an honour, said he, for me to wear the Title of thy Friend, and if I have so long withstood thy importunities 'twas only to try thee, and to shew thee that I want neither Wit nor Policy: And so saying, he came forward, but stopt at the Entrance of his Hole. Why dost thou not come boldly forth? De­manded the Raven. Is it because thou art not yet assur'd of my Affection? That's not the Reason, answer'd the Rat, but I'm afraid of thy Companions upon the Trees. Set thy heart at rest for that; reply'd the Raven, they shall respect thee as their Friend: For 'tis a Custom among us, that when one of us en­ters into a League of Friendship with a Crea­ture of another Species, we all Esteem and Love that Creature. The Rat, upon the faith of these Words, accosted the Raven, who carress'd him with extraordinary Demon­strations of Friendship, swearing to him an in­violable Amitie, and requesting him to go and live with him in the Habitation of a Tor­toise, [Page 153]of whom he gave a very noble Charact­er. I have so great an inclination for you, said 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 Residence, only I was compell'd to take Sanctuary in this Hole, by reason of an Acci­dent, of which I would give you the Relati­on, if I thought it might not be offensive to you. My dear Friend, reply'd the Raven, can you have any such fears? or rather are you not convinc'd that I share in all your con­cerns? But the Tortoise, added he, whose Friendship is a very considerable Acquisition, which you cannot fail of, will be no less glad to hear recital of your Adventures: And at the the same time he took the Rat in his Bill, and carry'd him to the Tortoises dwelling, to whom he related what he had seen Zirac do. She congratulated the Raven for having ac­quir'd so perfect a Friend, and caress'd the Rat at a very high rate, who for his part was too much a Courtier not testifie how sensible he was of all her Civilities. After many Com­plements on all sides they went all three to walk by the Banks of a purling Rivulet; and having made choice of a Place somewhat distant from the Highway, the Raven desir'd Zirac to relate his Adventures, which he did in the follow­ing manner.

The Fable of Zirac 's Adventure.

I Was born and liv'd in a City of India call'd Marout, where I made choice of a Place that seem'd to be the Habitation of silence it self, that I might live without disturbance. I tasted the sweets of a quiet Life in Company of some Rats of my own humour. There was also in our Neighbourhood a Monk, who stay'd in his Monastery 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 Dish in the same 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 less mindful of their duty to nature then my self. The Monk finding his Pittance diminish [...]d, flew out into a great rage, and lookt in his Books for some Receit, or some Engin to apprehend us; but all that nothing avail'd him, because I was still more cunning then he. One Day, one of his Friends who had been a long Journey, en­ter'd into his Cell to visit him; and after they had Dined, they fell into a Discourse concerning Travel. At the same time also the Monk ask'd his Friend what he had seen, that was most Rare and Curious in all his Travels. To whom the Traveller began to recount what he had observ'd most worthy remark; but as he was studying to give him a Description of the most delightful Places through which he had past, the Monk interrupted him from time to time, with the Noise which he made by clap­ing [Page 155]his hands one against the other, and stamp­ing with his Foot against the Ground to fright us away: For indeed we made frequent Sal­lies upon his Provision, never regarding his in­civilities. At length the Traveller taking it in Dudgeon, that the Monk gave so 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 alto­ther surpriz'd, that I should make a fool of a person of your Merit: I beg your Pardon for in­terrupting you, but there is in this Monastery a Nest of Rats that will eat me up to the very Ears before they have done; and there is one above the rest so bold, that he comes and bites me by the Nose as I lye asleep, and I know not how to catch the felonious Devil. The Traveller satisfy'd with the Monk's excuses, there is some Mystery in this, said he, and this accident brings to my mind a Story, which I will relate, provided you will hearken to me with attention.

The Fable of a Husband and his Wife.

ONE Day the bad Weather constrain'd me to stop at a Town, where I went to lodge at one of my Friends, who receiv'd me very Civilly. After supper, he put me into a Chamber that was parted from his own, by a very thin Wainscote only, so that in despight of my Ears, I heard all his private conversati­on with his Wife. To morrow, said he, I in­tend to invite the Principal Burghers of the Town, to divertise my Friend who has done me the Honour to come and see me. You have not sufficient where withal to support your Family, answer'd his Wife, and yet you talk of being at great expences. Rather think of sparing that little you have for the good of your Children, and let feasting alone. The Providence of God is very great, reply'd the Husband, and we ought not to take care for to morrow, lest what befel the Wolf befal us.

The Fable of the Hunter and the Wolf.

ONE Day a great Hunter returning from the chace of a Deer, which he had kill'd, spy'd a wild Boar coming out of a Wood, and making directly towards him. Very good, cry'd the Hunter, this Beast will augment my Provision. With that he bent his Bow, and let fly his Arrow with so good an Aim, that he wounded the Boar to Death. The Beast feel­ing himself wounded, ran with so much fury at the Hunter, that he ript up his Belly with his Tusks in such a manner, that they both fell dead upon the Place.

At the same time there past by a Wolf half famisht, who seeing so much Victuals lying upon the Ground, was in an extasie of Joy. However, said he to himself, I must not be prodigal of all this good Food; but it behoves me to husband my good Fortune, to make my provision hold out the longer: Nevertheless, being very hungry, he was resolv'd to fill his Belly. He began therefore with the string of the Bow, which was made of a Gut: But he had no sooner snapt the string, but the Bow which was bent, gave him such a terrible thump upon the Breast, that he fell stone dead upon the other Bodies.

This Fable, said the Husband pursuing his Discourse, instructs us that we ought not to be too greedily Covetous. If it be so, said his Wife, ev'n invite whom you please to mor­row.

The next Day, as the Wife was getting Dinner ready, and making a sort of Sawce with Honey, she saw a Rat fall into the Ho­ney Pot, which turn'd her Stomach. Un­willing therefore to make use of the Honey, she carry'd it to the Market, and took Pitch in exchange? I was then by accident by her, and ask'd her why she made such a disadvantageous exchange. Because, said she in my ear, 'tis not worth so much as the Pitch. Then I pre­sently conceiv'd there was some Mystery in the thing. 'Tis the same with this Rat: He would never be so bold, had he not some rea­son for it which we are ignorant of. For my part I amapt to believe there is Money hidden in his Hole.

The Monk no sooner heard the Traveller talk of Mony, but he took a Hatchet, and so bestirr'd himself, that having cleft the Wall, he discover'd my Treasure, to the value of a thousand Deniers in Gold, which I heap'd to­gether with great Labour and Toil. I told 'em every Day: I took delight to handle 'em, and tumble upon 'em, placing all my happiness in that Exercise. Very good, said the Tra­veller, had I not reason to attribute the inso­lency of those Rats to some unknown cause?

I leave you to judge in what a desperate Condition I was; when I saw my Habitation ransack'd after that manner. Thereupon I resolv'd to change my Lodging; but all my Companions left me; so that I had a thorough experience of the Truth of the Proverb, No Mony, no Friend. Moreover, your Friends now a Days love us no longer, then our Friend­ship turns to their advantage. One Day, a [Page 159]wealthy and a witty Man was ask'd how ma­ny Friends he had? As for Friends a-l-a mode, said be, I have as many as I have Crowns: But as for real Friends I must stay till I come to be in want, and then I shall know.

While I was pondering upon the accident that had befallen me, I saw a Rat pass along, who had been so much devoted to my service, 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 shun'd me like the rest? Think'st thou, said he, that we are such Fools to serve 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'st not to despise the Poor, said I, because they are the belov'd of God. 'Tis very true, an­swer [...]d he, but not such Poor as thou art. For God loves those who have quitted the World, not those whom the World has forsaken. I could not tell what to answer to that cutting Expression. However I stay'd with the Monk, to see how he would dispose of the Mony which he had taken from me: And I observ'd that he gave the one half to his Friend, and that each of 'em laid their shares under their Pillows. Now I had a mind to go and regain this Mony: To which purpose I stole softly to his Bed-side; but his Friend, who unper­ceiv'd by me observ'd all my Actions, threw his Bed-staff at me with so good a Will, that he had almost broke my Foot, which oblig'd me to recover my Hole with all the speed I could, tho' not without some difficulty. A­but an Hour after, I crept out again, believ­ing [Page 160]the Traveller asleep: But he was too di­ligent a Sentinel, afraid of loosing 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 rashness had like to have cost me my Life. For the Traveller gave me a second Blow upon the Head, that stun'd me in such a manner, that I could hard­ly find my Hole again. At the same time also the Traveller threw his Bed-staff at me a third time, but missing me, I recover'd my sanctu­ary, where I was no sooner in safety, but I protested never more to pursue the Recovery of a thing, which had cost me so much pains and jeopardy. In pursuance of this Resolu­tion, I left the Monastery, and retir'd to that place where you saw me with the Pigeon. The Tortoise was very well pleas'd with the recital of the Rats Adventures, and at the same time embracing him, you have done well, said she, to quit the World and the intreagues of it, since they afford us no perfect satisfacti­on. All those who are turmoil'd with Avarice and Ambition, do but labour their own ruin, like the Cat, whose Adventure you will not be displeas'd to hear.

The Fable of the ravenous Cat.

A Certain Person bred up a Cat very frugal­ly in his own House: But the Cat, who was very ravenous, not contented with her ordinary Food, hunted about in every Cor­ner for more. One Day, passing by a Dove­house, she saw some young Pigeons that were hardly fledg'd; and presently her Teeth wa­ter'd for a taste of those delicate Viands. With this Resolution up she mounted into the Dove­house, never minding whether the Master were there or no; and was preparing to satisfie her voluptuous Desires. But the Master no soon­er saw the Epicure of a Cat enterd, but he shut up the Doors, and stopt all the holes where she might get out again, and so bestirr'd him­self, that he caught the felonious Puss, and hang'd her up at the corner of the Pigeon­house. Soon after the owner of the Cat pas­sing that way, and seeing his Cat hang'd, Un­fortunate Greedy-gut, said he, hadst thou been contented with thy meaner Food, thou hadst not been now in this Condition! Thus in­satiable Gluttons are the procurers of their own untimely Ends. Besides, the Felicities of this World are uncertain and of no continuance. Wise Men say, there is no trust nor relyance upon six Things, nor any thing of fidelity to be expected from 'em.

1. From a Cloud; for it disperses in an in­stant.

2. From feigned Friendship; for it passes away like a Flash of Lightning.

[Page 162]3. From a Woman's Love; for it changes upon every frivolous Fancy.

4. From Beauty; for the least injury of Time, Misfortune, or a Disease destroys it.

5. From false Prayers; for they are but Smoak.

6. From the Enjoyments of this World; for they vanish in a Moment.

Men of Judgment, continued the Rat, ne­ver labour after these vain things: There is nothing b [...]t the acquisition of a real Friend can tempt 'em. Then the Raven, in his turn, There is nothing, said he, like a true and mutual Friend; which I shall endeavour to prove by the recital of the following Sto­ry.

The Fable of the two Friends.

A Certain Person heard one knocking at his Door at an unseasonable Hour. He ask'd who was there; and when he understood it was one of his best Friends, he rose and put on his Cloaths; and then ordering his Servant to light a Candle, he went and open'd the Door. So soon as he saw him, Dear Friend, said he, I cannot imagine your coming so late to be for any other Reason, but either to bor­row Money, to desire me to be your Second, or because you want Company to divert some sudden Melancholly. I am provided to serve you in any of these three Requests, conti­nued he: If you want Money my Purse is open; if you are to meet your Enemy, my Arm and Sword is at your Service; or if any amorous Desire brings ye abroad, here is my Maid, handsom enough to give you a civil Enter­tainment. In a word, what ever lies in my Power is at your Service. There is nothing I have less occasion for, answer'd his Friend, then what you proffer me. I only come to understand the condition of your Health, fear­ing the truth of an unlucky and disastrous Dream.

While the Raven was reciting this Fable, they beheld at a distance a little wild Goat ma­king towards 'em with an incredible swiftness.

They thought she had been pursu [...]d by some Hunter; which made 'em separate: The Tor­toise slipt into the Water; the Rat crept into his Hole; and the Raven hid himself among [Page 164]the Boughs of a very high Tree. In the mean time the Goat stopt all of a sudden by the side of a Fountain; when the Ra­ven, who lookt about every way, perceiving no body, call'd to the Tortoise, who peep'd up above Water; and seeing the Goat afraid to drink, Drink boldly, said the Tortoise, for the Water is very clear: Which the Goat ha­ving done, Pray tell me, cry'd the Tortoise, what is the reason you seem to be in such a Fright. Reason enough, reply'd the Goat, for I have just made my Escape from the Hands of a Hunter who pursu'd we with an eager Chace. Come, said the Tortoise, stay here, and be one of our Friends, you will find our Conversation very beneficial. Wise Men say, that the number of Friends lessens Trouble; and that if a Man had a thousand Friends, he ought to reckon them no more then one. On the other side, if a Man has but one Enemy, he ought to reckon that one for a thousand; so dangerous a thing an Enemy is. After this Di­scourse, the Raven and the Rat enter'd into Company with the Goat, and shew'd her a thou­sand Civilities, with which she was so taken, that she promis'd to stay there as long as she l [...]v [...]d.

Thus these four Friends spent their time ve­ry pleasingly together. But one Day that the Tortoise, the Rat, and the Raven were met as they us'd to do, by the side of the Fountain, the Goat was missing, which very much trou­bl'd 'em, not knowing what accident might have befallen her. Presently the Raven mount­ed up into the Air, to see what discoveries he could make, and looking round about him, at [Page 165]length he perceiv'd the poor Goat entangl'd in a Hunter's Net. These ill Tydings extreme­ly afflicted all the three Friends. We must find a way, said the Tortoise, to deliver the poor Goat out of Captivity. Then said the Raven to the Rat, there is none but you can set our good Friend at liberty: And the busi­ness must be quickly done, for fear the Hunts­man lay his Clutches upon her. I will do my endeavour, reply'd the Rat; and therefore let's go immediately, least we lose time. Pre­sently the Raven took up Zirac in his Bill, and carr'd him to the place; where being ar­riv'd, he fell without delay to gnawing the Meashes that held the Goat's Foot, and by that time the Tortoise arriv'd. So soon as the Goat perceiv'd her, she sent forth a loud Cry, Oh! why have you ventur'd your self to come hither? Alas, reply'd the Tortoise, I could no longer endure your absence. Dear Friend, said the Goat, your coming to this place, trou­bles me more then the loss of my Liberty. For if the Hunter should happen to come at this in­stant, what will you do to make your Escape? For my part I am almost unbound, and my swift Heels will preserve 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 so slow of Foot will be come the Hunter's Prey.

No sooner had the Goat spoken the words, but the Hunter appear'd. But then the Goat being unloos'd, ran away; the Raven mount­ed into the Sky, the Rat slipt into a Hole, on­ly the slow-pac'd Tortoise remain'd without help.

When the Hunter arriv'd, he was not a lit­tle surpriz'd to see his Net broken, which was no small vexation to him, and made him look narrowly about, to see if he could discover who had done him the Injury, at what time he spy'd the Tortoise. Oh! said he, 'tis very well, I shan't go home empty handed; here's a plump Tortoise, and that's worth something I'm sure. With that he took the Tortoise up, put it in his Sack, threw the Sack over his Shoulder, and so was trudging home.

When he was gone, the three Friends met together, and miffing the Tortoise, they judg'd what was become of her. Then sending forth a thousand Sighs, they made most doleful la­mentations, and shed a torrent of Tears. But at length the Raven interrupting this sad Har­mony, Dear Friends, said he, our Moans and Sorrows do the Tortoise no good, we must think of a way to save her Life. The Sa­ges of the World instruct us, that there are four sorts of Men, who are never known but upon four sorts of Occasions. Men of Courage in Fight; Men of Honesty in Business; a Woman in her Husband's Misfortunes; and a true Friend in extream Necessity. We find our dear Friend the Tortoise is in a sad Condition, and therefore we must succour her. And now I think on't, said the Rat, an Expedient is come into my Head. Let the Goat go and shew her self in the Hunter's Eye, who will then be sure to lay down his Sack to run after her. Ve­ry well advis'd, reply'd the Goat, I will pre­tend to be lame, and run limping at a little di­stance before him, which will encourage him tofollow me, and so draw him a good way from [Page 167]his Sack, which will give the Rat time to set our Friend at liberty. This Stratagem was approv'd; The Goat ran halting before the Hunter, who seem'd to be so feeble and faint, that the Hunter thought he had her safe in his Clutches: And so laying down his Sack ran after the Goat with all his might, who suffer'd him ever and anon to breathe, and then led him another Green-goose Chase, till she had drag'd him quite out of sight; which the Rat percei­ving, came and gnaw'd the String that ty'd the Sack, and let out the Tortoise, who went and hid her self in a thick Bush.

At length the Hunter tyr'd with running in vain after his Prey, return'd to his Sack, but missing the Tortoise, he was in amaze; and thought himself in a Region of Hobgoblins and Spirits. He could not but stand and bless him­self, that a Goat should free her self out of his Nets, and by and by run hopping before him, and make a Fool of him; and that a Tor­toise, a poor feeble Creature, should break the String of a Sack, and make his Escape. All these Considerations struck him with such a panick Fear, that he fell a running home, as if a thousand Robin-goodfellows or Raw-head and Bloody-bones had been at his Heels. After which the four Friends met together, and made n [...]w Protestations of Friendship, and swore ne­ver to separate till Death parted 'em.

CHAP. IV. That we ought always to distrust our Ene­mies, and be perfectly inform'd of what ever passes among 'em.

WE are now come, said Dabschelim, to the fourth Chapter, which is to prove, That no Person of Judgment and Discretion ought to expect or hope for Friendship from his Enemies. Teach me then which way to avoid their Treasons. We ought, reply'd the Bramin, always to distrust our Enemies; for when they make a shew of Friendship, 'tis only to cover their evil Designs: and whoever confides in an Enemy, will be de­ceiv'd like the Owl in the Fable which I am going to recite to your Majesty.

The Fable of the Crow and the Owl.

IN the Province of China there is a Moun­tain whose top aspires above the Clouds: on the top of this Mountain stood a Tree whose Boughs seem'd to reach Heaven, and were all laden with Ravens Nests, who were all the Subjects of a King call'd Birouz. One Night the King of the Owls, who was call'd Cha­bahang, that is to say, Fly by Night, came at the head of his Army to plunder the Ravens Nests, against whom they had an ancient ha­tred. The next Day Birouz cal'ld a Council to deliberate what means they should make use of to defend themselves from the Assaults of the Owls. Five of the ablest Politicians of his Court understanding his Majesty's Intenti­ons, gave their Advice one after another. Great Monarch, said the first, whose turn it was to speak, we can think of nothing but what your Majesty has already thought of be­fore us. Nevertheless, since 'tis your Pleasure that we should speak in order what we judge most expedient to revenge our selves upon the Owls, I shall tell you Sir, what Politicians have always held for a Maxim, That no Prince ought ever to attack an Enemy strong­er then himself: To do otherwise, is to build upon the Current of a Torrent. Sir, said the second, Flight becomes none but mean and cowardly Souls: 'Tis more noble to take Arms and revenge the Assront we have re­receiv'd. A Prince shall never be at rest, if he does not carry Terror into the Country [Page 170]and Soul of his Enemy. The third coming to give his Opinion; I do not blame, said he, the Counsel of my Brethren, nor do I approve it. My Advice is, That your Majesty send Spies to discover 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 preserve Peace in his own Kingdom, as well for the repose of his own Mind as for the ease of his Subjects. War is never to be declar'd but against those that disturb the public Tran­quility: And if the Enemy be too powerful, we must have recourse to Artifice and Stra­tagem, and make use of all Opportunities that present themselves to vanquish him by Cun­ning and Policy. Then the fourth laid be­fore the King, That it was better for a Prince to quit his Country, then to expose a People to lose the Reputation of their Arms, who had always been victorious over their Enemies. That it would be a shame for the Ravens to submit themselves to the Owls, who had all along been under their Subje­ction. That it was requisite to penetrate their Designs, and resolve rather to Fight, then undergo an ignominious Yoak; since loss of Life was less to be valu'd then loss of Reputation.

The King, after he had heard these four Ministers, made a Signal to the fifth to speak in his turn. This Visir, or Minister, was call'd Carchenas, or I [...]te [...]g [...]nt. The King there­fore, who had a particular Confidence in him, desir'd him to tell him fincerely what he thought was best to be done in this Affair. [Page 171]Shall we declare War, or propound Peace, or abandon our Country? Sir, reply'd Car­chenas, since you order me to speak with free­dom, my Opinion is, That we ought not to at­tack the Owls, because they are more nume­rous then we are. We must make use of Prudence, a Virtue that has frequently a greater share in great Successes then either Strength or Riches. But before your Majesty take your final Resolution, consult your Ministers once more; their Counsels may assist you to bring about your Designs with Success: Great Rivers are swell'd by many Rivulets. For my part, I neither love War nor Trouble; yet I am not for base and dastardly submis­sion. 'Tis not for Men of Honour to desire long Life, but only that they may leave to Posterity Examples of Virtue worthy of ad­miration: Nor ought we to take care of our Lives, but to expose 'em upon occasion where Honour calls us: 'Tis better never to have been, then to live obscurely. Therefore my Advice is, That your Majesty shew not the least Fear in this Conjecture; but that you take your Resolutions in private, that your Enemies may not penetrate your Designs.

Here one of the other Ministers interrup­ting Carchenas, How! said he, what d'ye mean by that? wherefore are Counsels held, but to debate among several? and wherefore would you have an Affair of this Consequence be debated in a private Cabal? Affairs of Prin­ces, reply'd Carchenas, are not like those of Merchants, which are to be communicated to [...]he whole Society. The Secrets of Kings cannot be discover'd but by their Counsel­lours, [Page 172]or their Embassadors. Who knows but there may be Spies in this very place who hear us, with an intent to disclose our Resolu­tions to our Enemies, who upon their Repor will prevent our Enter prises, or at least disort der our Determinations? Wise Men say, That if you will have a Secret, keep the Secret; otherwise you will run the hazard of being be­tray'd, as was the King of Quechemir. Where­upon Birouz, who was very curious, com­manded Carchenas to tell him the Adven­ture.

The Fbale of a King and his Mistress.

IN the City of Quechemir, there reign'd a King in former Days, no less just then powerful. This Prince had a Mistress so sur­passingly beautiful, that all Persons that be­held her fell in love with her. The King himself doated on her to that degree, that he would never be out of her Company: But she was far from loving the King so dear­ly as she was belov'd by him. The Asse­ction of the King flatter'd her Vanity, but never touch'd her Heart; which being always made however to harbour some particular A­mour or other, she susser'd her self to be pre­possess'd with a violent Passion for a Page, who was handsom and duly proportion'd e­ven to admiration. She soon inform'd him by her Glances what Sentiments the had for him, and the egling Youth as soon instructed [Page 173]her that she could not apply her self to a young Spark that was more inclin'd to make his Advantage of so fair a Fortune. In short, there wanted nothing but an Opportunity to parly together in private, for the satisfacti­on of those Desires which [...]nflam'd them.

One Day that the King was sitting with his Mistress, and gazing on her with De­light, the Page who was standing in the same Chamber, cast his Eyes from time to time upon the charming Lady, while she on the other side fix'd hers upon the Page, with an Aire so passionate, that the King perceiv'd it. He understood too well that silent Lan­guage, and was so enrag'd with jealousie and despite, that he resolv'd to put 'em both to Death. However dissembling his design, be­cause he would not Act with too much precipi­tation, he re-enter'd his Apartment, where he spent the Night in amusement and disquiet. The next Morning, he heard the complaints of his Subjects, and after he had given satis­faction to his People, he enter'd into his Cabi­net. Thither he sent for his chief Minister, and discover'd to him his design to Poison his Mistress and the Page. The Visir, having heard his reasons, approv'd 'em, promis'd to keep the secrer, and went home; where finding his Daughter extreamly pensive, he ask'd the Reason. Father, said she, the Kings Mignon has abus'd me without a cause; this troubles me: And I'll assure you if I do not revenge my self, 'tis not for want of good Will. Comfort your self, reply'd the Mi­nister, you shall be deliver'd from the Pain.

Now as Women are very Curious, the Daughter press'd her Father to know after what manner she should be reveng'd of her Enemy; and he was so weak as to reveal to her the Kings design; 'tis true, she swore not to discover it to any living Soul: But an hour or two after, the Kings Mistress's Eunuch coming to visit the Minister's Daughter, with an intention to comfort her, and extenuate the affront she had receiv'd, and to that purpose telling her, that we ought to bear with our Neighbours faults, Ay, ay, said the Lady, in­terrupting him with a disdainful smile, let her alone, she has not long to play her proud Pranks. Upon which the Eunuch press'd her so earnestly to explain her meaning, that she could hold no longer, but told him every word that her Father had said to her, after she had made him also swear, that he would invi­olably keep the Secret. But the Eunuch had no sooner left her, but believing himself much more oblig'd to break then to keep his Oath, he went to the Kings Mistress, and reveal'd to her the violent Resolution which the King had taken. There needed no more to incense the Lady, to try all ways to prevent him. She sent away privately for the Page, with whom she took such exact measures, that the King was found the next Morning dead in his Bed.

You see by this Story, continued Carchenas, that Princes are not to discover their Secrets to any, but such of whose Discretion and Fideli­ty they have constant and assured Proofs. But what Secrets, said Birouz, are those which it most concerns us to conceal? Sir, answer'd Carchenas, there are some Secrets of such a [Page 175]Nature, that Princes are not to entrust any Bo­dy but themselves with 'em; that is to say, to keep 'em so conceal'd, that no body may be able to discover 'em. Others there are that may be communicated to faithful Ministers, for their Advice and Counsel.

Birouz finding that Carchenas spoke nothing but reason, shut himself up with him in his Cabinet, and before he discours'd any farther concerning the Business in Question, he desir'd him to tell him the fatal Original of the deadly hatred between the Ravens and the Owls. Sir, answer'd Carthenas, one word produc'd that cruel Animosity, the terrible Effects of which you have so oft Experienc'd.

The Fable of the Original of the hatred be­tween the Ravens and the Owls.

UPon a certain Day a flight of Birds assem­bl'd to chuse themselves a King, and e­very different Species pretended to the Crown. At length, there were several that gave their Voices for the Owl, because Minerva the Goddess of Wisdom had made choice of the Owl for her peculiar Bird. But others un­willing to obey so deformed a Creature, the Diet broke up, and they fell one upon another, with so much fury, that several were slain. The fight would have lasted longer, had not a cer­tain Bird, in order to part 'em, bethought him­self 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 Person of Judgment, and whose Years have gain'd him great Experience. All the Birds unani­mously consented, and when the Raven arriv'd, and had inform'd himself of the occasion of the Quarrel, he thus deliver'd himself. Are you such Fools and Mad-men, Gentlemen, said he, to chuse for your King a Bird, that draws af­ter him nothing but misfortune? Will you set 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 else a Pea-cock, who treads with a Majestic Gate? Why do you not rather raise an Eagle to the Throne, who is the Emblem of Royalty; or lastly a Griffin, who by the only motion and the noise of his Wings makes the Muntains [Page 177]tremble. But tho' there were no such Birds as these, which I have nam'd in the World, it were better for you to live without a King, then subject your selves to such a horrid Crea­ture as an Owl; For besides that he has the Physiognomy of a Cat, he has no Wit [...] and which is insupportable, that notwithstanding he is so abominably ugly, he is as p [...]d as a Parson's Wife: And that which [...]g [...] [...]o ren­der him yet more despicable in your Ey [...] [...]s this, that he hates the Light of that magnificent Body, that enlivens all Nature. Therefore Gentlemen, lay a side a design so prejudic [...]al to your Honour, and proceed to the Election of another King, and do nothing to repent of afterwards. Chuse a King that may comfort you in your Distresses; remember the Rabbet, who calling himself the Moons Embassadour, expell'd the Elephants out of their Coun­try.

The Fable of the Elephants and the Rabbets.

THere happen'd a dry Year in the Elephants Country, call'd the Isles of Rad, or of the Wind, insomuch, that press'd by Drowth, and not being able to come at any Water, they address'd themselves to their King, beseeching him to apply some remedy to their Misery, that they might not perish; upon which the King commanded diligent search to be made in all Places, and at length discover'd a Spring of Water, to which the Ancients had given the Name of Chaschmamah, the Fountain of the Moon. Upon this Discovery, 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 Num­ber of Rabbets that had a Warren in the same Place, because the Elephants every step they took trod down their Burroughs, and kill'd the poor Conies.

One Day the Rabbets assembl'd together, went to the King, and besought him to deliver 'em from that Oppression. I know very well, answer'd the King, that I sit upon the Throne for the welfare and ease of my subjects; but you ask me a thing that surpasses my strength. However consult among your selves, 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 rest, perceiving the King at a loss, yet ve­ry much mov'd with the Affliction of his Peo­ple, [Page 179]stept before his Companions, and ad­dressing himself to the King, Sir, said he, your Majesty Acts like a just Prince, while the care of our Tranquillity disturbs your rest; and while you afford us the freedom to give our Advice, it makes me bold to impart to your Majesty an invention lately come into my Head, to expel the Elephants out of this Country. Sir, continu'd the Rabbet, per­mit me that I may go with the Character of your Embassadour to the King of the Ele­phants; and I am willing, that your Majesty should appoint me a Companion of all that passes in my Embassie.

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 Hea­ven, and do what thou shalt deem most con­venient, only remember that an Embassadour is the Kings Tongue: His discourses ought to be well weigh'd, and his words and his Be­haviour Noble and Lofty, while he represents the Person of his Prince. The most learned Men in the Kingdom ought to be made choice of for Embassadours. I have heard that one of the greatest Monarchs in the World, was wont frequently to disguise himself, and became his own Embassadour. And indeed, for the dis­charge of that Employment these Qualities are required, Resolution, Eloquence, and a vast extent of natural Parts. A violent Spirit is not for that Employment. Several Embassa­dours with a rash word have created trouble in a Kingdom: And others with a mild and a­greeable Saying have re-united irreconcileable Enemies. Sir, said the Rabbet, if I am not en­dow'd [Page 180]with all these good Qualities your Ma­jesty has enumerated, I will endeavour to learn 'em.

Having so said, he took his leave of the King, and went to the Elephants. But before he arriv'd there, he bethought himself, that if he went among 'em, he might be trod to Pieces. For which reason he got upon a high Tree, from whence he call'd to the King of the Ele­phants, who was not far off; I am, said he, the Moon's Embassadour, hear what I have to say to you in her Name. You know that the Moon is a Goddess whose Power is unli­mited, and that above all things she hates a Lie.

The King of the Elephants was terribly frighted, when he heard the Rabbet talk at that rate, and desir'd to know the Subject of his Embassie. The Moon, reply'd the Rab­bet has sent me hither, to let you understand, that whoever is puft up with his own gran­dure, and despises her little ones, deserves death; you are not only contented to oppress the little ones, but you have the insolence to trouble a Fountain consecrated to her Deity, where every thing is pure. I admonish you to reform your Manners, else you will be severely punish'd. If you will not give credit to my words, come and see the Moon in her own Fountain, and then retire.

The King of the Elephants stood astonish'd at these Raptures, and went to the Fountain, wherein he saw the Moon indeed, because the Water was clear. Then said the Rabbet to the Elephant, take of the Water to wash your self, and pay your Adorations. The Ele­phant took some of the Water, but all-to-be [Page 181]pudled the Fountain with his Proboscis; at which the Rabbet, Infidel, said he, you have prophan'd the Fountain with your unhallow'd Ivory, and therefore the Goddess is gone a­way in a huff. Retire with speed from hence with your whole Army, lest some dreadful Misfortune befall you. This threatning Lan­guage put the King of the Elephants into a trembling Fit, and terrify'd him to that degree, that he presently commanded his Army to de­camp: And thus the Rabbets were deliver'd from their Enemies by the Policy of one of their Society.

I had not recited this Example, continu'd the Raven, but to instruct you, that you ought to make choice of a Prudent and Politick Prince, who may be able to assist you in your Adversities, and not of Owls that have nei­ther courage nor Wit. They have nothing in 'em but Malice, which will be no less fatal to you, then the Cat was to the Partridge, who desir'd him to decide a difference which she had with another Bird.

The Fable of the Cat and the Partridge.

SOme Years ago, continu'd the Raven, I made my Nest upon a Tree, at the foot of which there sate a Partridge, well shap'd and good humour'd. We made a league of Friendship together, and frequently kept one another Company. Some time after she absented her self, for what reason I know not, and stay'd away so long, that I thought her dead; nevertheless she return'd, but found her Habitation in Possession of ano­ther Bird. The Partridge pretended the House was hers, and would have made a for­cible Entry, but the Bird refus'd to go out, al­ledging that Possession was nine Points of the Law, and I endeavour'd to bring 'em to an Accommodation, but all to no purpose; for the Partridges Atterney, finding she had Money, egg'd her on, and tickl'd her Ears with a Lease of Ejectment. However at length the Par­tridge finding the Law to be very expensive, quoth she to her self, here lives hard by a ve­ry devout Cat, she fasts every Day, she does no body harm, and spends the Nights in Pray­or, let us, said she to her Adversary, refer our difference to her: I know not where we shall find a more equitable Judge. The other Bird having consented to this Proposal, they went both to this Religious Cat, and I follow'd 'em out of Curiosity. Entring in, I saw 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. That leng Pray­ers [Page 183]before People is the Key of Hell. I admir'd that Hyprocrisie; and had the Patience to stay till the venerable Personage had done. After which the Partridge and his Antagonist ac­costed him with great respect, and requested him to hear their difference, and give Judg­ment according to the usual Rules of Justice. The Cat in his Furr-gown acting the Part of Grave and Formal, heard what the Bird had to plead for it self, and then addressing him­self to the Partridge, my Pretty love said he, I am Old and thick of hearing, pray come near and lift up your Voice, that I may not lose a word of what you have to say. Thereupon the Partridge and the other Bird, seeing him so Devout, went boldly close up to him: But then the Hypocrite fell upon 'em, and devour'd 'em both.

Thus you see deceitful People are never to be trusted: And my consequence is, have you care of the Owl, who is no better then the Cat. The Birds convinc'd that the Raven spoke nothing but what was reason, never minded the Owl any more. Upon which the Owl went home, meditating how to be reveng'd upon the Raven, against whom he conceiv'd such a mortal Hatred, that time could never extinguish.

This Sir, proceeded Carchenas, is the true Reason of the perpetual Enmity between us and the Owls. Now said the King of the Ravens, let us consider what measures we must take to repair the affront I have receiv'd. To which Carchenas, after he had given the King his due Applauses, Sir, said he, I am not of the same Opinion with your other Ministers, [Page 184]who advise either W [...], or Flight, or an igno­minious Peace. W [...]st follow the Maxim; when we want strength, we must into recourse to Artifice and Stratagem, and endeavour to deceive the Enemy, by feigning one thing and doing another; as you may see by the follow­ing Example.

The Fable of the Derwiche and the four Robbers.

A Derwiche had purchas'd a fat Weather, on purpose to offer it up in Sacrifice, and having ty'd a Cord about the Neck of it, was leading it to his Monastery. Four Thieves that perceiv'd him had a great mind to this Wea­ther; but they durst not take it away from the Derwiche by force, because they were too near the City; and therefore they made use of this Stratagem. They first parted Compa­ny, and then accosted the Derwiche, whom they knew to be a Jack Adams, as if they had come from several distinct Parts. said the first of 'em, Father, whither are you leading this Dog? The second coming from another Quarter, cry'd to him, Venerable old Gentle­man, you have stoln this Dog: And at length the third coming to the Derwiche, and asking him, whether he would go a Hunting with his handsom 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 beside himself, saying to him, [Page 185]Pray Reverend Father, what did this Dog cost you? The Derwiche absolutely persuaded, that four Men, coming from four several Pla­ces, could no be deceiv'd, verily believ'd that the Grasier who had sold him the Weather was a Conjurer who had bewitcht his sight; insomuch that no longer giving Credit to his own Eyes, he began to be firmly convinc'd that the Weather was a Dog; and immediat­ly went back to the Market to demand his Money of the Grasier, leaving the Weather with the Felons, who carry'd it away.

Sir, said Carchenas, your Majesty sees by this Example, that what cannot be done by force, must be atchiev'd by Policy. But, said the King, interrupting him, what invention shall we make use of to revenge our selves of the Owls? Rely upon me, reply'd Carchenas, to take care of your Majesties Revenge. Only order my Feathers to be pull'd off, and leave me all over bloody under this Tree. 'Twas no small grief to Birouz to give out such a cruel Order; however the thing was done, and the King march'd with his Army, to wait for Car­chenas in such a place as the Visir had appointed him.

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 com­pleat the Destruction of the Ravens. But they were amaz'd when they miss'd the Ene­my, which they intended to have surpriz'd. They sought for him every where, at what time they heard a Voice of grievous Lamentation; which was the Voice of Carchenas who was howling at the foot of a Tree. The King of [Page 186]the Owls approach'd him, and examin'd him concerning his Birth and Employment he had in Birouz s Court? Alas, reply'd Carchenas, the condition wherein you see me sufficiently shews you my inability to give you the Ac­count which you demand. What Crime did you commit, reply'd Chabahang, to deserve this hard Usage? The wicked Ravens reply'd Carchenas, upon a slight suspicion have us'd me thus. After the defeat of our Army, King Bi­rouz call'd a Council, to seek out ways to be reveng'd of so Bloody an Affront. After he had heard the various Opinions of some of his Ministers, he commanded me to speak mine: At what time I lay'd before him, that you were not only Superiour in Number, but bet­ter Disciplin'd, and more Valiant then we were; and by consequence that it was ne­cessary for us to desire Peace, and to accept of whatever Conditions you would grant us. This so incens'd the King against me, that in a violent Passion, Traytour, cry'd he, this is the way to infuse into my Army a fear of the Enemy, by exalting their Strength, and lessen­ing mine: And with that, believing that I was meditating to seek my Peace with your Majesty, he commanded that I should be us'd as you see.

After Carchenas had done speaking, the King of Owls ask'd his chief Minister what was to be done with Carchenas. The only way, Sir, answer'd the Minister, is to put him out of his pain and knock him o'the Head; never to trust his fair words; for I don't believe a word he says. Remember the old Proverb Sir, The more Dead, the fewer Ene­mies. [Page 187]To this Carchenas in a lamentable tone, I beseech you Sir, said he, add not to my Affliction by your threating Language.

The King of the Owls, who could not chuse but compassionate Carchenas, bid the second Minister speak; who was not of the first Visir's opinion. Sir, said he, I would not advise your Majesty to put this Person to Death. Kings ought to assist the Weak, and succour those that throw themselves into their Protection. Besides, continu'd he, some­times there may be great Advantage made of an Enemies service, according to the Story of the Merchant which I shall relate to your Majesty.

The Fable of the Merchant, his Wife, and the Robber.

A Certain Merchant, very Rich, but home­ly, and very deformed in his Person, had marry'd a very fair and virtuous Wife. He lov'd her passionately: On th [...] other side she hated him; insomuch that not being able to endure him, she lay in a Bed apart by her self in the same Chamber.

One Night, a Thief broke into the House, and came into the Chamber when the Hus­band was asleep; but the Wise being awake, and perceiving the Thief, was in such a ter­rible Fright, that she ran to her Husband, and held him fast in her Arms. The Husband waking, was transported with joy, to see the delight of his Life clasping him in her embra­ces. Bless me! cry'd he, to whom am I be­holding for this extraordinary Happiness: I wish I knew the Person, that I might return him Thanks. Hardly had he utter'd the words when the Thief appear'd, Oh, cry'd the Merchant, the most welcome Person in the World: Take what ever thou thinkst fitting, I cannot reward thee sufficiently for the good service thou hast done me.

By this Example you see that our Enemies may sometimes be serviceable to us, in obtain­ing those things which we have sought in vain to enjoy by the help of our Friends. So that in regard this Raven may prove beneficial to us, we ought to preserve his Life.

Then the King ask'd a third Minister, who delivering his Opinion, Sir, said he, You ought to be so far from putting this Raven to Death, that you ought to caress him, and engage him by your favours to do some important service. Wise Men always endea­vour to oblige some of their Enemies, in or­der to set up a Faction against the rest, and then make advantage of their Divisions. The Quarrel which the Derwiche had with the Thief was the reason that neither the one nor the other could hurt a very vertu­ous Derwiche; according to the ensuing Fable.

The Fable of the Derwiche, the Thief, and the Devil.

IN the Parts adjoyning to Babylon, there was in former times a Derwiche, who liv'd like a true Servant of God. He subsisted only upon such Alms as he receiv'd, and as for o­ther things he gave himself up wholy to Provi­dence, without troubling himself with the in­treagues of this World.

One day, one of his Friends sent him a fat Ox; which a Thief seeing as it was led to his lodging, resolv'd to have it what ever it cost him. Going to the Convent, he met the Devil in the shape of a Man. He ask'd him who he was, and whither he was going. To whom the Devil made answer, I am the Devil, who have taken human shape upon [Page 190]me, and I am going to this Monastery, to kill the Derwiche that lives there; because his example does me a world of Mischief, by making several wicked People turn hon­est and good Men: And therefore I intend to Murder him, because my Temptations have hitherto prov'd useless. I, answer'd the Thief, am a notorious Robber, and I am going to the same Monastery to steal a fat Ox that was given to the Derwiche that you de­sign to kill. I am glad, quoth the Devil, that we are both of the same Humour, and that we both of us design to do the Monk a Mis­chief.

In the midst of this Discourse they came both to the Convent: Night was already well advanc'd; the Derwiche had said his usual Prayers, and was gone to Bed. And now the Thief and the Devil were both preparing to put their design in Execution, when the Thief said to himself, the Devil in going to kill him, will make the Monk cry out, and raise the Neighbourhood: Which will hinder me from stealing the Ox. The Devil on the other side reason'd with himself after this manner. If the Thief goes to steal the Ox, before I have exe­cuted my design, the noise he will make in breaking open the Door will waken the Der­wiche to stand upon his Guard. Therefore said the Devil to the Thief, let me first kill the Derwiche, and then thou may'st steal the Ox at thy own leisure; no, said the Thief, the better way will be for you to stay till I have stole the Ox, and then do you Murder the Monk. But both refusing to give way the one to the other, they quarrell'd first, and from [Page 191]words they fell to down-right fisty Cuffs. At which sport the Devil proving the stronger of the two, the Thief call'd out to the Der­wiche, rise Monk, Rise, here's the Devil come to Murder you. On the other side the Devil perceiving himself discover'd, cry'd out, Thieves, Thieves, look to your Ox, Monk. Presently, the Monk waking at the noise, call'd in the Neighbours, which constrain'd the Thief and the Devil to betake themselves to their Heels: And thus the Derwiche sav'd both his Life and his Ox.

The chief Minister having heard this Fable, falling into a very great Passion, said he to the King, I find you will suffer your self to be deceiv'd by this Raven, as the Joyner was deceiv'd by his Wife. Tell me that Story, said Cabahang.

The Fable of the Joyner and his Wife.

SIR, reply'd the Minister, in the City of Sarandib, there liv'd a Joyner, who was very skilful in his Art, and the Husband of a Wife so beautiful that the Sun seem'd to borrow his Brightness from her eyes. She was so passionately belov'd by her Husband, that he was almost out of his Wits, when he was constrain'd to be absent from her. This Wo­man was so crafty, that she had found a way to make her Husband believe that she lov'd him as dearly, tho' she had several Gallants that were not unacceptable to her. Among the rest there was a Neighbour of hers, a young Man well shap'd, who had wone her affection to that degree, that she began to care for none of the rest. Upon which they became so jea­lous of him, that they gave the Joyner notice of his familiarity with his Wife. But the honest Husband was unwilling to believe any thing, unless he were well assur'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 small Journey: And taking some provisi­ons with him, he told his Wife, that 'twas true he should not go very far, but his business would keep him out two or three Days; which was a great trouble to him to want her Compa­ny so long. His wise pay'd him in the same Coin, bemoaning the tediousness of his Ab­sence, and shedding an April shower of Tears [...] for joy then grief. How ever she got [...] ready for her Husband's departure, [Page 193]who, the better to dissemble the matter, bid her be sure to keep the Doors fast, for fear of Thieves. She, on the other side, promis'd to be very careful of every thing, and still put her Finger in her Eye for grief that he was to leave her. But her Husbands back was no sooner turn'd, but she gave notice to her Gallant to come to her, who kept his time to a Minuite. But while they were dallying toge­ther, the Joyner return'd home, enter'd with­out being seen; and clapt himself into a Corn­er, to see how things went.

In the mean time the Gallant caress'd his Mistress, who admitted his caresses with de­light. They supp'd together; then made themselves unready to go to Bed.

The Joyner who till then had seen little or nothing that could convince him of his shame stole softly toward the Bed to take 'em in the Act: But his Wife having observ'd him, whisper'd her Lover in the Ear, that he should ask her which she lov'd best, him or her Hus­band. Presently 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 such a Question, answer'd the Wife? Know you not that Women, when they seem to shew any Friendship to any other Man but their Husbands, 'tis only to satisfie their pleasure; and when they are satisfy'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 self.

These words were some kind of Cordial to the Joyner's spirits; who began to blame him­self for the bad Opinion he had of his Wife: saying to himself, the fault which she now commits must be imputed to my absence and the frailty of her Sex: The chastest person in the World sins either in deed or intention; and therefore since she loves me so well, I pardon her offence, nor will I deprive her of a mo­ment of her Pleasure: And after he had made these Reflexions, the courteous Spouse, retir'd to his Corner, and let the two Lovers wanton together, all the rest of the Night.

The Lover departing betimes in the Morn­ing, the Wife lay a Bed counterfeiting her self asleep: But then the Husband going to Bed, in his turn fell a caressing her; and the Wife opening her Eyes, and dissembling Asto­nishment, Laud! my dear Heart, said she to her Husband, how long have you been return'd? Ever since last Night reply'd the Joyner, but I was unwilling to disturb the young Man that lay with you, because you had me in your mind all the while you receiv'd his caresses, which you would never have admitted but that you thought me absent. Upon these kind words, the Wife beg'd the Husbands Pardon, and coax'd him up with a thousand Flim-flams and false Marks of Tenderness.

This Examples instructs us, that we are not to be lull'd asleep with fair words. E­nemies when they cannot obtain their Ends by force have recourse to Artifices, and hum­ble themselves to deceive. Here Carchenas cry'd out, Oh! You that are so Zealous for my Death, why do you not put an [Page 195]end my Days, but talk too many things to no purpose to increase my Misery? What probability of Perfidiousness do you find in a Person so wounded as I am? What Madman would suffer so much tor­ment to do good to another? 'Tis in that very thing, reply'd the Visir, that thy subtlety Consists. The sweetness of revenge which thou art meditating, makes thee patiently swal­low the bitterness of thy pains. Thou wouldst fain make thy self as famous as the Monkey that sacrifiz'd his Life to the safety of his Country. I desire the King to hear the Story.

The Fable of the Monkies and the Bears.

A Great number of Monkeys liv'd in a Coun­try stor'd with all manner of Fruit, and very delightful. A Bear travelling that way by accident, and considering the Beauty of the Residence, and the sweet lives the Monkies led, said he to himself, 'tis not just nor rea­sonable that these little Animals should live so happy, while I am forc'd to run through Forrests and Mountains in search of Food: And at the same time he went among the Apes and kill'd some of 'em for very Madness: But they all fell upon him, and in regard they were very numerous, they made him all over of a goar Blood; so that he had much ado to escape.

Thus Punish'd for his Rashness, he reco­ver'd a Mountain, where he fell a roaring so loud, that a great number of Bears came a­bout him, to whom he recounted what had befallen him. But all laught at him; thou art a Coward, cryd they, to suffer thy self to be beaten by those little Animals. However this affront is not to be endur'd; it must be re­veng'd for the honour of our Nation. In short toward the Beginning of the Night, they de­scended all from the Mountain, and fell pell mell upon the Monkies, dreaming nothing less then of such an Invasion. For they were all retir'd to their Rest, when they were surround­ed by the Bears, who kill'd a great number; the rest escaping in disorder. After which Exploit, the Bears were so taken with this [Page 197]Habitation, that they made choice of it for the Place of their abode. They set up for their King, the Bear that had been so ill handld by the Monkies; and after that, they fell to banquet upon the Provisions which the Monkies had heap'd together in their Maga­zines.

The next Morning by break of Day, the King of the Monkies, who knew nothing of this Rout, because he had been a Hunting for two Days together, met several Monkies maim'd, who gave him an Account of what had past the day before. The King, when he heard this doleful news, fell a Weeping and Lamenting the vast Treasure he had lost, accusing Heaven of Injustice, and Fortune of inconstancy: Besides that, his subjects prest him to take his revenge; so that the poor King knew not which way to turn himself. Among all these Monkies, there was one call'd Mai­mon, who was one of the most crafty and most learned in the Court, and the Kings fa­vourite, who seeing his Master sad, and his Companions in Consternation, stood up, and addressing himself to the King, Persons of Wit and Discretion, said he, never abandon themselves to despair, which is a Tree that bears very bad Fruit: But Patience on the Contrary, supplies us with a thousand inven­tions to rid our selves out of the entanglements of Trouble and Adversity.

Presently the King, whom this discourse had render'd much more easie in his mind, turning to Maimon, how shall we do, said he, to bring our selves off with Honour from this ignominious Mishap? Maimon be­sought [Page 198]his Majesty to allow him private audi­ence, and after he had obtain'd it, he spoke to this Effect.

Sir, said he, my Wife and Children have been massakerd by these Tyrants. Conje­cture you my Grief, to see my self depriv'd for ever of those sweets which I enjoy'd in the midst of my Family. I am resolv'd to dye, that I may put an end to my sorrows: But my death shall prove fatal to my Enemies. O Mai­mon, said the King, we never desire to be reveng'd of our Enemies, but to procure to our selves repose or satisfaction of Mind. But when you are Dead, what signifies it to you, whether the World be at Wars or in Peace? Sir, reply'd Maimon, in the condition I am in, life being insupportable to me, I sacrifice it with delight to the happi­ness of my Companions. All the favour I beg of your Majesty, is only to remember my Generosity, when you shall be re-establish'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 Forrest 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 shall hear no more of your Enemies. The King, tho' with great grief, caus'd Maimon's desires to be Executed, and left him in the Wood, where all Night long he made the most doleful Lamentations that ever Misery utter'd.

When Day shone out, the King of the Bears, who had heard Maimon's out-cries, advanc'd to see what it was, and beholding the Poor Monkey in that Condition, he was mov'd with compassion, notwithstanding his merci­less Humour, and ask'd him who had us'd him after that barbarous manner, and who he was? Maimon judging by all appearances, that he was the King of the Bears that spoke to him, after he had respectfully saluted him, Sir, said he, I am the King of the Monkey's chief Minister, I went a Hunting with him, and at our return, understanding the Ravages which your Majesties Souldiers had committed in our Houses, he took me a-side, and ask'd me what I thought was his best course to take in such a Conjuncture? I answer'd him without any hesitation, that we ought to put our selves under your Protection, that we might live at ease and unmolested. The King my Master then talk'd many ridiculous things of your Majesty, which was the Reason that I took the boldness to tell him, that you were a most renowned Prince, and more Potent then he Which audaciousness of mine incens'd him to that degree, that immediately he com­manded me to be thus mangl'd as you see me.

Maimon had no sooner concluded his Re­lation, but he let fall such a shower of Tears, that the King of the Bears was mollifi'd also, and could not forbear Weeping himself. Af­ter that, he ask'd Maimon, where the Monkeys were? In a desart call'd Mardazmay, an­swer'd he, where they are raising a prodigious Army; and there is no question to be made, [Page 200]but they will be with you in a very short time. The King of the Bears, not a little terrifi'd as this News, ask'd Maimon what course he should take to secure himself from the Enter­prises of the Monkeys? Your Majesty, reply'd Maimon, need not fear 'em, were not my Legs broke, I would undertake with one single Troop of your Heydukes, to destroy Forty thousand of these Apes. There is no questi­on, said the King, but you know all the A­venues to their Camp. You will oblige us for ever, would you but conduct us thither, and we will revenge the Barbarity committed upon your Person. That's impossible, reply'd Maimon, because I can neither go nor stand. There is a remedy for every thing, answer'd the King, and I will find an invention to carry ye; and at the same time he gave orders to his Army to be in readiness to march, and to put them­selves into a condition to Fight. They all obey'd, and ty'd Maimon, who was to be their Guide, upon the Head of one of the bigest Bears.

Maimon conducted 'em into the Desart of Mardazmay, where blew a poisonous Wind, and where the Heat was so vehement that there was no Creature to be seen in it. Now when the Bears were enter'd into this dangerous Desart, Maimon, to engage 'em farther into it, Come, said he, by way of Encouragment, let us make haste and surprize 'em before Day. So they march'd all Night; but the next Day they were astonish'd to find themselves in so dis­mal a Place. They not only saw not so much as the likeness of a Monkey appear, but they perceiv'd that the Sun had so heated the Air, that the Birds that flew over the Desart fell [Page 201]down griddl'd; and the Sand was so Burning hot, that the Bears Feet were all Roasted. Then said the King to Maimon, into what a Desart hast thou brought us? And what fierce Whirl-Winds do I see coming toward us? Then the Monkey, finding they were all ready to perish, spoke Boldly, and in answer to the King of the Bears, Tyrant, said he, we are in the Desart of Death: The Whirl-Wind that approaches us is Death it self, which comes to punish thee for thy Tyrannies: And while he was thus speaking, the fiery Whirl-Wind came and swept 'em all away.

Two days after, the King of the Monkeys return'd to his Palace, as Maimon foretold him; and finding all his Enemies gone, con­tinu'd a long Reign in Peace with his Apes.

Your Majesty, pursu'd the Visir, sees by this Example, that there is no trusting to the alluring Words of an Enemy. He must perish that seeks the Destruction of others. This dis­course put the King of the Owls in a Passion, who in a fume cry'd to the chief Minister, why all this stir to hinder this Poor miserable Creature from the Proof of my Clemency? And at the same time he commanded his Sur­geons to dress Carchenas, and to take particu­lar care of him. You don't consider, added the King, that you may fall under the same mis­fortune that has befallen him.

As for Carchenas, he behav'd himself so well, that in a little time he won the Love of all the Court. The King of the Owls con­fided in him, and began to do nothing without first consulting him. One day Carchenas addresing himself to the King; Sir, said he, the King of [Page 202]the Ravens has abus'd me so unjustly, that I shall never dye satisfy'd, till I have first grati­fy'd my Revenge. I have been a long time romaging my Brains for the Means: But I have bethought my self, that I never can compass it safely nor handsomly, so long as I wear the shape of a Raven. I have heard Men of Learn­ing and Experience say, that he who has been ill us'd by a Tyrant, if he makes any wish, he must put himself into the Fire; for that while he continues there all his wishes will be heard. For which reason I beseech your Majesty 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 shall be able to revenge my self upon my Enemy.

The chief Minister that had spoken against Carchenas was then in the Assembly, and hear­ing this luscious Speech, O Traytour, cry'd he, whither tends all this superfluous Lan­guage? Now art thou weaving mischief, as sure as God is in Heaven. Sir, added he, turning to the King, you may caress this wick­ed Fellow as long as you please, he will never change his Nature. The Mouse was metamor­phos'd into a Maid, and yet she could not for­bear wishing to have a Rat for her Husband. You love, to tell Fables, said the King to him in Raillery; and I will hear this Fable of yours for once; but I will not promise you to be a Pin the better for it.

The Fable of the Mouse, that was chang'd into a little Girl.

A Person of Quality walking one Day by the side of a Fountain, saw a Mouse fall at his Feet from the Bill of a Raven who held it a little too carelesly. The Gentleman out of pi­ty took it, up and carry'd it home; but fearing lest it should cause any disorder, he pray'd the Gods to change it into a Maid. Which was presently done; so that instead of a Mouse, of a sudden he saw a very pretty Girl, which he Bred up. Some Years after the good Man seeing her big anough to be Marry'd, chuse out, said he to her, in all the whole extent of Nature, what Being pleases thee best, and I will make him thy Husband. I would, said the Virgin, have a Husband so strong, that he should never be vanquish'd. That must needs be the Sun, reply'd the old Gentleman: And therefore the next Morning, said he to the Sun, my Daughter desires an invincible Hus­band, will you Marry her? Alas, answer d the Sun, yonder Cloud enfeebles my Beams; address your self to that. Then the good Man made his Compliment to the Cloud. Alas, said the Cloud, the Wind drives me as it pleases. The old Gentleman nothing discourag'd, de­sir'd the Wind to Marry his Daughter. But the Wind laying before him, that his strength was stopt by such a Mountain, he address'd himself to the Mountain. Oh! Sir, said the Mountain, the Rat is stronger then I; for he pierces me in every side, and eats into my ve­ry [Page 204]Bowels; whereupon the old Gentleman went at length to the Rat, who consented to Marry his Daughter, saying withal that he had been a long time seeking out for a Wife. So the old Gentleman returning home, ask'd his Daughter whether she would Marry a Rat. Now he expected that she would have ab­horr'd the Thoughts of such a Marriage; but he was amaz'd to see her out of Patience to be united to a Rat. Thereupon the old Man went to his Prayers again, and desir'd the Gods that they would turn his Daughter into a Mouse as she was before, which they did ac­cordingly.

But the King of the Owls attributing all these Remonstrances to his chief Ministers Jea­lousie of the Raven, took little notice of 'em. In the mean time Carchenas observ'd the com­ings in and goings out of the Owls, and when he had perfectly inform'd himself of every thing, he left 'em and return'd to the Ravens. He gave the King his Master an Acccount of every thing that had past, and then, Sir, said 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 Majesty 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 shall flutter round about, to blow the Fire into a flame. By which means such Owls as shall adventure out, will be burnt in the flames, and such as stay within shall be smother'd.

The King approv'd the Ravens Counsel, and ordering his whole Army to set forward, they did as Carchenas, had conrivued it, and by that means destroy'd all the Owls. By this Example you see that sometimes submission to an Enemy is requisite for the eluding of their wicked Designs. Of which the Fable that follows is a further Proof.

The Fable of the Serpent and the Frogs.

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 wish'd in vain for the strength of his youth­ful 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 seem'd to be very sad and sick; upon which a Frog askt him what he ayl'd. I am ready to Starve, answer'd the Ser­pent: Formerly I liv'd upon the Frogs which I took, but now I am so unfortu­nate that I cannot catch one. Presently the Frog went and inform'd the King of the Serpents Condition and answer. Upon which report, the King went himself to the place to look upon the Serpent, who seeing him, Sir, said he, one Day as I was going to snap a Frog by the Tayl, the Frog got from me, [Page 206]and fled to a Monks Apartement, and enter'd into a dark Chamber, where lay a little In­fant a sleep. At the same time I also enter'd in pursuit, of my Game, and feeling the Childs Foot, which I took for the Frog, I bit it in such a venomous manner that the Child immediately Dy'd. The Monk pro­vok'd by my boldness, pursu'd me with all his might, but not being able to overtake me, he beg'd of Heaven for the Punishment of my Crime, that I might never be able to catch Frogs more, unless their King gave me one or two in Charity; and lastly he ad­ded to his wishes, that I might be their slave and obey 'em. These Prayers of the Monk, continu'd the Serpent, were heard, and I am now come to submit my self to your Laws, and obey your Orders, since it is the will of Heaven.

The King of the Frogs receiv'd him with great Disdain and swelling Pride, and told him with a haughty Taunt, that he would make use of his Service; and indeed for some Days, the Serpent carry'd the King upon his Back: But at length, most Potent Monarch, said he, if you intend that I should serve you long, you must feed me, or I shall starve to Death. Thou say'st very true, honest Serpent, re­ply'd the King of the Frogs, hence forward I will allow thee to swallow two of my Subjects a Day for thy Subsistance. Thus the Serpent, by submiting to his Enemy, se­cur'd to himself, at his Enemies cost, a sub­sistance during the remainder of his Life.

Sir, said Pilpay, Your Majesty sees by these Examples, that Patience is a great Ver­tue, [Page 207]and mainly conduces to bring about vast Designs. Wise Men had Reason to say, that Prudence goes beyond strength; a Man by his Wit may redeem himself out of Danger: But know withal, and 'tis no more then what these Examples inform us, that we are never to trust an Enemy, whatever Protestations of Friend­ship he makes you. A Raven will be a Raven still. Only true Friends are to be rely'd upon, and only their Conversation and Familiarity can be Beneficial to us.

The End.

THE CONTENTS.

  • WHAT gave Occasion to the Wri­ting of this Book, and by whom it was compos'd. Page 1.
  • The Story of Dabschelim and Pilpay. 5
  • The Fable of the Travelling Pigeon. 14.
  • The Fable of the Falcon and the Raven. 20.
  • The Fable of the Greedy and Ambitious Cat. 22.
  • The Fable of the Poor Man that became a King. 25.
  • The Fable of the Leopard and the Li­on. 28.
CHAP. I.
  • [Page]THAT we ought to avoid the Insinuations of Flatterers, and Back-biters. Page 32.
  • The Fable of a Merchant and his Leud Children. ibid.
  • The Fable of a King and his two Sons. 34.
  • The Fable of the Derwich, a Falcon, and a Raven. 37.
  • The Fable of a Country-Man and seve­ral Rats. 38.
  • The Fable of the Carpenter and the Ape. 42.
  • The Fable of the two Travellers, and the Lion carv'd in White Stone. 43.
  • The Fable of the Fox and the Hen. 50.
  • The Fable of the Monk that left his Convent. 54.
  • The Fable of the Sparrow and the Spar­row-Hawk. 61.
  • The Fable of a King who of a Tyrant, as he was, became Benign and Just. 64.
  • [Page]The Fable of a Raven, a Fox, and a Serpent. 66.
  • The Fable of the Crane and the Cray­fish. 67.
  • The Fable of the Rabbet, the Fox, and the Wolf. 70.
  • The Fable of the Lion and the Rabbet. 73.
  • The Fable of the two Fisher men, and the three Fish. 77.
  • The Fable of the Scorpion and the Tor­toise. 79.
  • The Fable of the Falcon and the Hen. 83.
  • The Fable of the Nightingale and the Country-Man. 85.
  • The Fable of the Hunter, the Fox and the Leopard. 87.
  • The Fable of the Wolf, the Fox, the Raven and the Cammel. 89.
  • The Fable of the Angel Ruler of the Sea, and two Birds call'd Titavi. 94.
  • The Fable of the Tortoise and two Ducks. 95.
  • The Fable of the two young Merchants, the one Crafty the other without Malice. 98.
  • [Page]The Fable of the Frog, the Cray-fish, and the Serpent. 100.
  • The Fable of the Gardner and the Bear. 103.
  • The Fable of the Merchant and his Friend. 105.
CHAP. II.
  • THAT the wicked come to an ill End. Page 108.
  • The Fable of the Fox, the Wolf and the Hen. 109.
  • The Fable of the Ass and the Gardner. 110.
  • The Fable of the Prince and his Squire. 112.
  • The Fable of a Hermit who quitted the Desart to live at Court. 115.
  • The Fable of a Blind Man, who Travel­led with one of his Friends. 118.
  • The Fable of a religious Doctor and a Derwiche. 121.
  • The Fable of the Female Coquette and the Painter. 124.
  • The Fable of the three envious Persons that found Money. 127.
  • [Page]The Fable of the ignorant Physician. 131.
  • The Fable of the vertuous Woman and the young Falconer. 136.
CHAP. III.
  • HOW we ought to make choice of Friends, and what Advantage may be reap'd from their Conversa­tion. Page 141.
  • The Fable of the Raven, the Rat, the Pigeon, the Tortoise and the Goat. 142.
  • The Fable of the Partridge and the Falcon. 146.
  • The Fable of a Man and the Adder. 149.
  • The Adventures of Zirac. 154.
  • The Fable of a Husband and his Wife. 156.
  • The Fable of the Hunter and the Wolf. 157.
  • The Fable of the ravenous Cat. 161.
  • The Fable of the two Friends. 163.
CHAP. IV.
  • [Page]THAT we ought always to distrust our Enemies, and be perfectly in­form'd of whatever passes among 'em. Page 168.
  • The Fable of the Crow and the Owl. 169.
  • The Fable of the King and his Mi­stress. 170.
  • The Fable of the Original of the hatred between the Ravens and the Owls. 176.
  • The Fable of the Elephants and the Rabbet. 178.
  • The Fable of the Cat and the Partridge. 182.
  • The Fable of the Derwiche and the four Robbers. 184
  • The Fable of the Merchant, his Wife, and the Robber. 188.
  • The Fable of the Derwiche, the Thief, and the Devil. 189.
  • The Fable of the Joyner and his Wife. 192.
  • [Page]The Fable of the Monkies and the Bears. 196.
  • The Fable of the Mouse, that was chang'd into a little Girl. 203.
  • The Fable of the Serpent and the Frogs. 205.
FINIS.

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