Fable VII. the Wild Ducks and the Water Spaniel

After a tedious flight, Of many a stormy day and night; A flock of wild ducks sailing up and down, Upon a lake were making merry; Like sailors, in a sea-port town, Just arriv'd from Pondicherry. A swan too stately for sport, To shew herself was all her view, Had undertaken to escort The jovial crew. Swelling and bridling With all the airs of a fine dame at court; Turning about and sidling, Advancing, and then stopping short. Displaying in her features Contempt and insolent dejection, To signify that those strange creatures Were forc'd upon her for protection. I must confess, amongst mankind I have seen swans as foolishly inclin'd. At Paris on the Seine, I've seen a French marquee conduct a pair Of German barons to the fair Of Saint Germaine, Strutting before them, tossing up his head, Then looking back, and lowering his crest, The barons were so aukward, so ill-bred, And so ill-dress'd. Have you not seen a new-made peer With equal pride, but greater trepidations, Observing in his rear A troop of country relations, Run up Saint James's-street, and, at two leaps, Take Arthur's steps? Those steps as terrible as the Tarpeian, From whence with one black ball you're hurl'd Into another world Amongst the damn'd Plebeian. Perhaps this grave and solemn swan Dislik'd the company of those wild-ducks, Just as a prude, or sober man, Dislikes the company of bucks. For while they made more noise and riot Than twenty justices of peace, The swan was serious and quiet, As captain Gander marching with his geese, Marching to the field, With gorget and a wooden shield. About the middle of the lake, Upon the banks, a water-spaniel lay, Looking out for duck or drake, Or any lawful prey, And as the captain of a privateer Lies by, Nor offers to bear down, nor gives a cheer, 'Till his expected prize begins to fly, Close to the shore the spaniel let them sail, And rush'd into the lake when they turn'd tail, Snorting and snoring; Pursuing them with all his force, Swearing and roaring 'Till he was hoarse; He turn'd and veer'd, Now made a stretch, and then a tack; Now snapp'd, and now they disappear'd, And rose again a long way back: 'Till the poor spiritless exhausted brute Was forc'd to give up the pursuit. And as the French to Toulon ran, And left the Spaniards in a scrape, The moment that the fray began The swan made her escape. Quite out of reach, A roan duck on the beach, Under a shed, Consider'd the whole scene with wonder, Just like Caligula under the bed, Studying the cause of lightning and thunder. As the victorious crew pass'd by in order, He made them an oration; The roan duck being the recorder, Or burgomaster of the corporation. Leave your abandon'd lives, Roving like pirates and Jews, Come hither with your children and wives, And settle peaceably in our mews. We'll take you without any fuss, Here we have neither law nor code, You're only tied to copy us, And go by custom and the mode; You shall be fashionably dress'd, Protected, treated, and caress'd, A friseur, with an instrument of steel, Shall shape your wings and your toupee, Make them sit perfectly genteel, Easy and free. As to the rest, you may gather from my looks Whether the air is good, And whether we have wholesome food, Or tolerable cooks. Peace, wretch, the chieftain of the ducks replied, Nor with thy venal breath offend the brave, Freedom is as much our pride, As 'tis thine to be a slave. We neither injure nor provoke; We neither fear great nor small, Because we scorn to yield to any yoke, We are hated by them all. From pole to pole pursued, From pole to pole, Our enemies have every soul Been baffled and subdued. Lords of three elements, we can maintain Our freedom and possessions, With the same ease that we disdain Thy offers, and insidious professions. In our own virtue we confide, On others how can we rely? When fear or hope, envy or pride, May turn a friend into a false ally. Those who depend on others; Whether on males or females they depend, Will find the swan has many brothers, And sisters without end.