FABLE 14

The Monkey Who Had Seen the World

A Monkey, to reform the times,
Resolved to visit foreign climes;
For men in distant regions roam
To bring politer manners home.
So forth he fares, all toil defies:
Misfortune serves to make us wise.
At length the treacherous snare was laid;
Poor Pug was caught; to town convey’d;
There sold. (How envied was his doom,
Made captive in a lady’s room!)
Proud, as a lover, of his chains,
He, day by day, her favour gains.
Whene’er the duty of the day
The toilet calls, with mimic play
He twirls her knots, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.
In visits, too, his parts and wit,
When jests grew dull, were sure to hit.
Proud with applause, he thought his mind
In every courtly art refined;
Like Orpheus, burnt with public zeal,
To civilise the monkey weal;
So watch’d occasion, broke his chain,
And sought his native woods again.
The hairy sylvans round him press,
Astonish’d at his strut and dress:
Some praise his sleeve, and others gloat
Upon his rich embroider’d coat.
His dapper periwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powder’d back, above, below,
Like hoary frosts, or fleecy snow;
But all, with envy and desire,
His fluttering shoulder-knot admire.
“Hear and improve,” he pertly cries,
“I come to make a nation wise.
Weigh your own worth; support your place,
The next in rank to human race.
In cities long I pass’d my days,
Conversed with men, and learn’d their ways.
Their dress, their courtly manners see;
Reform your state, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive? In flattery deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.
Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit,
Be prompt to lie, whene’er ‘tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation’s spirit.
Boldly to everything pretend,
And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow, like man, polite.”
He spoke and bow’d. With muttering jaws,
The wondering circle grinn’d applause.
Now, warm’d with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool;
Studious of every coxcomb’s airs,
He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears;
O’erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts,
For vice is fitted to his parts.