Complete Works of Matthew Prior

by Matthew Prior

THE SECOND HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS.

  THE SECRETARY.

  THE THIEF AND CORDELIER.

  THE TURTLE AND SPARROW.

  THE VICEROY. A BALLAD.

  THE WANDERING PILGRIM.

  THE WIDOW AND HER CAT,

  TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD, MDCCIV. THE AUTHOR THEN FORTY.

  TO A FRIEND ON HIS NUPTIALS.

  TO A LADY, SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME AND LEAVING ME IN THE ARGUMENT.

  TO A PERSON WHO WROTE ILL, AND SPOKE WORSE AGAINST ME.

  TO A POET OF QUALITY.

  TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE.

  TO A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS FOND OF FORTUNE-TELLING.

  TO CELIA.

  TO CLOE WEEPING.

  TO CLOE.

  TO DORSET.

  TO DR. SHERLOCK.

  TO FORTUNE.

  TO LEONORA.

  TO LEONORA.

  TO MR. HARLEY, WOUNDED BY GUISCARD 1711

  TO MR. HOWARD.

  TO MY LORD BUCKHURST, VERY YOUNG, PLAYING WITH A CAT

  TO THE AUTHOR OF THE FOREGOING PASTORAL

  TO THE AUTHOR OF THE FOREGOING PASTORAL.

  TO THE COUNTESS OF DORSET, WRITTEN IN HHER MILTON, BY MR. BRADBURY.

  TO THE COUNTESS OF EXETER. PLAYING ON THE LUTE

  TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.

  TO THE HONOURABLE CHARLES MONTAGUE, ESQ.

  TO THE LADY DURSLEY

  TO THE LADY ELIZABETH HARLEY, SINCE MARCHIONESS OF CARMARTHEN, ON A COLUMN OF HER DRAWING.

  TO THE REV. DR. FRANCIS TURNER.

  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF DEVONSHIRE.

  TRANSLATION.

  TRUE’S EPITAPH.

  TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.

  TRUTH TOLD AT LAST.

  TWO BEGGARS

  TWO RIDDLES.

  UPON A FRIEND, WHO HAD A PAIN IN HIS LEFT SIDE.

  UPON HONOUR. A FRAGMENT.

  UPON PLAYING AT OMBRE WITH TWO LADIES.

  UPON THIS PASSAGE IN THE SCALIGERIANA.

  V. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  VENUS MISTAKEN.

  VENUS’S ADVICE TO THE MUSES.

  VERSES SPOKEN TO LADY HENRIETTA CAVENDISH-HOLLES HARLEY.

  VI. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  VII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  VIII. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  WHEN THE CAT IS AWAY, THE MICE MAY PLAY.

  WRITTEN AT PARIS, MDCC, IN THE BEGINNING OF ROBBE’S GEOGRAPHY.

  WRITTEN IN LADY HOWE’S OVID’S EPISTLES.

  WRITTEN IN MONTAIGNE’S ESSAYS.

  WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING OF MEZERAY’S HISTORY OF FRANCE.

  WRITTEN IN THE NOUVEAUX INTERETS DES PRINCES DE L’EUROPE.

  X. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  XI. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  XII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XIII SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XIV. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XIX. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  XV. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  XVI. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XVII. SET BY MR. SMITH.

  XVIII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XX. SET BY C. R.

  XXI. HASTE MY NANNETTE, MY LOVELY MAID

  XXII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XXIII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XXIV. BY MR. DE FESCH.

  XXV. SET BY MR. C. R.

  XXVI. MOGGY, I MUN BID ADIEU

  XXVII. SOME KIND ANGEL, GENTLY FLYING

  XXVIII. NELLY.

  The Satire

  Huis ter Nieuwburg, location for the negotiations of The Peace of Ryswick, a series of treaties signed in the Dutch city of Rijswijk between 20 September and 30 October 1697, ending the Nine Years’ War between France and the Grand Alliance — Prior was acting as one of the King’s secretaries and in 1697 he was secretary to the plenipotentiaries that concluded the Peace of Ryswick.

  The Country Mouse and the City Mouse

  THE HIND AND THE PANTHER TRANSVERS’D

  CONTENTS

  PREFACE.

  THE HIND AND THE PANTHER, TRANSVERS’D TO THE STORY OF THE COUNTRY AND THE CITY-MOUSE.

  John Dryden by James Maubert, c. 1695 — John Dryden (1631-1700) was an English poet, literary critic, translator and playwright, who was made England’s first Poet Laureate in 1668. In collaboration with Charles Montagu, Prior wrote this 1687 satire, in ridicule of Dryden's ‘The Hind and the Panther’.

  THE HIND AND THE PANTHER TRANSVERS’D

  To the Story of The Country-Mouse and the City-Mouse.

  Much Malice mingled with a little Wit.

  Hind. Pan.

  Nec vult Panthera domari.

  Quae Genus.

  LONDON: Printed for W. Davis,

  MDCLXXXVII.

  PREFACE.

  THE Favourers of the Hind and Panther will be apt to say in its Defence, That the best things are capable of being turn’d to Ridicule; that Homer has been Burlesque’d, and Virgil Travested without suffering any thing in their Reputation from that Buffoonry; and that in like manner, the Hind and the Panther may be an exact Poem, though ’tis the Subject of our Raillery: But there is this difference, that those Authors are wrested from their true Sense, and this naturally falls into Ridicule; there is nothing Represented here as monstrous and unnatural, which is not equally so in the Original. First as to the General Design, Is it not as easie to imagine two Mice bilking Coachmen, and supping at the Devil; as to suppose a Hind entertaining the Panther at a Hermits Cell, discussing the greatest Mysteries of Religion, and telling you her son Rodriguez writ very good Spanish? What can be more improbable and contradictory to the Rules and Examples of all Fables, and to the very design and use of them? They were first begun and raised to the highest Perfection in the Eastern Countries; where they wrote in Signs and spoke in Parables, and delivered the most useful Precepts in delightful stories; which for their Aptness were entertaining to the most Iudicious, and led the vulgar into understanding by surprizing them with their Novelty, and fixing their Attention. All their Fables carry a double meaning; the Story is one and intire; the Characters the same throughout, not broken or chang’d, and always conformable to the Nature of the Creatures they introduce. They never tell you that the Dog which snapt at a shadow, lost his Troop of Horse, that would be unintelligible; a piece of Flesh is proper for him to drop, and the Reader will apply it to mankind; they would not say that the Daw who was so proud of her borrow’d Plumes lookt very ridiculous when Rodriguez came and took away all the book but the 17th, 24th, and 25th Chapters, which she stole from him: But this is his new way of telling a story, and confounding the Moral and the Fable together.

  Before the Word was written, said the Hind,

  Our Saviour Preacht the Faith to all Mankind.

  What relation has the Hind to our Saviour? or what notion have we of a Panther’s Bible? If you say he means the Church, how does the Church feed on Lawns, or range in the Forest? Let it be always a Church, or always the cloven-footed Beast, for we cannot bear his shifting the scene every Line. If it is absurd in Comedies to make a Peasant talk in the strain of a Hero, or a Country Wench use the language of the Court; how monstrous is it to make a Priest of a Hind, and a Parson of a Panther? To hring ’em in disputing with all the Formalities and Terms of the School? Though as to the Arguments themselves, those, we confess, are suited to the Capacity of the Beasts, and if we would suppose a Hind expressing her self about these Matters, she would talk at that Rate.

  As to the Absurdity of his expressions, there is nothing wrested to make ’em ridiculous, the terms are sometimes alter’d to make the Blunder more visible; Knowledg misunderstood is not at all better sense than Undetstanding misunderstood, though ’tis confest the Author can play with words so well, that this and twenty such will pass off at a slight reading.

  There are other mistakes which could not be brought in for they were too gross for Bayes himself to commit. ’Tis hard to conceive how any man could censure the Turks for Gluttony, a People that debauch in Coffee, are voluptuous in a mess of Rice, and keep the strictes
t Lent, without the Pleasures of a Carnival to encourage them. But ’tis almost impossible to think that any man who had not renounced his Senses, should read Duncomb for Allen: He had been told that Mr. Allen had written a Discourse of Humility; to which he wisely answers, That that magnified Piece of Duncombs was Translated from the Spanish of Rodriguez, and to set it beyond dispute, makes the infallible Guide affirm the same thing. There are few mistakes, but one may imagine how a Man fell into them, and at least what he aim’d at; but what likeness is there between Duncomb and Allen? do they so much as Rhime?

  We may have this comfort under the severity of his Satyr, to see his Abilities equally lessen’d with his Opinion of us; and that he could not be a fit Champion against the Panther till he had laid aside all his Iudgment. But we must applaud his Obedience to his new Mother Hind; she Disciplin’d him severely, she commanded him it seems, to Sacrifice his darling Fame, and to do it effectually he publisht this learned Piece. This is the favourable Construction we would put on his faults, tho he takes care to inform us, that it was done from no Imposition, but out of a natural Propensity he has to Malice, and a particular Inclination of doing Mischief. What else could provoke him to Libel the Court, Blaspheme Kings, abuse the whole Scotch Nation, rail at the greatest Part of his own, and lay all the Indignities imaginable on the only establish’d Religion? And we must now Congratulate him this Felicity, that there is no Sect or Denomination of Christians, whom he has not abused.

  Thus far his Arms have with Success been crown’d.

  Let Turks, Jews and Infidels, look to themselves, he has already begun the War upon them. When once a Conqueror grows thus dreadful, ’tis the Interest of all his Neighbours to oppose him, for there is no Alliance to be made with one that will face about, and destroy his Friends, and like a second Almanzor, change sides meerly to keep his hand in ure. This Heroick temper of his, has created him some Enemies, that did by no means affect Hostility; and he may observe this Candor in the Management, that none of his Works are concern’d in these Papers, but his last Piece; and I believe he is sensible this is a favour. I was not ambitious of Laughing at any Perswasion, or making Religion the Subject of such a Trifle; so that no man is here concern’d, but the Author himself, and nothing ridicul’d but his way of arguing.

  But, Gentlemen, if you won’t take it so, you must grant my Excuse is more reasonable than our Author’s to the Dissenters.

  THE HIND AND THE PANTHER, TRANSVERS’D TO THE STORY OF THE COUNTRY AND THE CITY-MOUSE.

  Bayes. Iohnson. Smith.

  Iohnson.

  HAH! my old friend Mr. Bayes, what lucky chance has thrown me upon you? Dear Rogue let me embrace thee.

  Bayes.

  Hold, at your peril, Sir, stand off and come not within my Swords point, for if you are not come over to the Royal party,I expect neither fair war, nor fair quarter from you.

  Iohns.

  How, draw upon your friend? and assault your old Acquaintance? O’ my conscience my intentions were Honourable.

  Bayes.

  Conscience! Ay, ay, I know the deceit of that word well enough, let me have the marks of your Conscience before I trust it, for if it be not of the same stamp with mine, Gad I may be knockt down for all your fair promises.

  Smith.

  Nay, prithee Bayes, what damn’d Villany hast thou been about that thou’rt under these apprehensions? upon my Honour I’m thy friend; yet thou lookest as sneaking and frighted as a dog that has been worrying sheep.

  Bayes.

  Ay Sir, The Nation is in too high a ferment for me to expect any mercy, or I’gad, to trust any body.

  Smith.

  But why this to us, my old friend, who you know never trouble our heads with National concerns till the third bottle has taught us as much of Politicks, as the next does of Religion?

  Bayes.

  Ah Gentlemen, leave this prophaneness, I am alter’d since you saw me, and cannot bear this loose talk now; Mr. Iohnson, you are a man of Parts, let me desire you to read the Guide of Controversy; and Mr. Smith, I would recommend to you the Considerations on the Council of Trent, and so Gentlemen your humble Servant. — Good life be now my Task.

  Iohns.

  Nay Faith, we wont part so: believe us we are both your Friends; let us step to the Rose for one quarter of an hour, and talk over old Stories.

  Bayes.

  I ever took you to be men of Honour, and for your sakes I will transgress as far as one Pint.

  Iohns.

  Well, Mr. Bayes, many a merry bout have we had in this House, and shall have again, I hope: Come, what Wine are you for?

  Bayes.

  Gentlemen, do you as you please, for my part he shall bring me a single Pint of any thing.

  Smith.

  How so, Mr. Bayes, have you lost your pallat? you have been more curious.

  Bayes.

  True, I have so, but senses must be starv’d that the soul may be gratified. Men of your Kidney make the senses the supream Iudg, and therefore bribe ’em high, but we have laid both the use and pleasure of ’em aside.

  Smith.

  What, is not there good eating and drinking on both sides? you make the separation greater than I thought it.

  Bayes.

  No, no, whenever you see a fat Rosie-colour’d fellow, take it from me, he is either a Protestant or a Turk.

  Iohns.

  At that rate, Mr. Bayes, one might suspect your conversion; methinks thou hast as much the face of an Heretick as ever I saw.

  Bayes.

  Such was I,such by nature still I am. But I hope ere long I shall have drawn this pamper’d Paunch fitter for the straight gate.

  Smith.

  Sure, Sir, you are in ill hands, your Confessor gives you more severe rules than he practices; for not long ago a Fat Frier was thought a true Character.

  Bayes.

  Things were misrepresented to me: I confess I have been unfortunate in some of my Writings: but since you have put me upon that subject, I’le show you a thing I have in my Pocket shall wipe off all that, or I am mistaken.

  Smith.

  Come, now thou art like thy self again. Here’s the Kings Health to thee — Communicate.

  Bayes.

  Well, Gentlemen, here it is, and I’le be bold to say, the exactest Piece the world ever saw, a Non Pareillo I’faith. But I must bespeak your pardons if it reflects any thing upon your perswasion.

  Ioh.

  Use your Liberty, Sir, you know we are no Bigots.

  Bayes.

  Why then you shall see me lay the Reformation on its back, I’gad, and justifie our Religion by way of Fable.

  Iohns.

  An apt contrivance indeed! what do you make a Fable of your Religion?

  Bayes.

  Ay I’gad, and without Morals too; for I tread in no mans steps; and to show you how far I can out-do any thing that ever was writ in this kind, I have taken Horace’s design, but I’gad, have so out-done him, you shall be asham’d for your old friend. You remember in him the Story of the Country-Mouse, and the City-Mouse; what a plain simple thing it is, it has no more life and spirit in it, I’gad, than a Hobby-horse; and his Mice talk so meanly, such common stuff, so like meer Mice, that I wonder it has pleas’d the world so long. But now will I undeceive Mankind, and teach ’em to heighten, and elevate a Fable. I’le bring you in the very same Mice disputing the depth of Philosophy, searching into the fundamentals of Religion, quoting Texts, Fathers, Councils, and all that, I’gad, as you shall see either of ’em could easily make an Asse of a Country Vicar. Now whereas Horace keeps to the dry naked story, I have more copiousness than to do that, I’gad. Here, I draw you general Characters, and describe all the beasts of the Creation; there, I launch out into long Digressions, and leave my Mice for twenty Pages together; then I fall into Raptures, and make the finest Soliloquies, as would ravish you. Won’t this do, think you?

  Iohns.

  Faith, Sir, I don’t well conceive you; all this about two Mice?


  Bayes.

  Ay, why not? is it not great and Heroical? but come, you’l understand it better when you hear it; and pray be as severe as you can, I’gad I defie all Criticks. Thus it begins.

  A milk-white Mouse immortal and unchang’d,

  Fed on soft Cheese, and o’re the Dairy rang’d;

  Without, unspotted; innocent within,

  She fear’d no danger, for she knew no Ginn.

  Iohns.

  Methinks Mr. Bayes, soft Cheese is a little too coarse Diet for an immortal Mouse; were there any necessity for her eating, you should have consulted Homer for some Coelestial Provision.

  Bayes.

  Faith, Gentlemen, I did so; but indeed I have not the Latin one, which I have mark’d by me, and could not readily find it in the Original.

  Yet had She oft been scar’d by bloody Claws

  Of winged Owls, and stern Grimalkins Paws

  Aim’d at her destin’d Head, which made her fly,

  Tho She was doom’d to Death, and sated not to dye.

  Smith.

  How came She that fear’d no danger in the line before, to be scar’d in this, Mr. Bayes?

  Bayes.

  Why then you may have it chas’d if you will; for I hope a Man may run away without being afraid; mayn’t he?

  Iohns.

  But pray give me leave; how was She doom’d to Death, if She was fated not to dye; are not doom and fate, much the same thing?

  Bayes.

  Nay Gentlemen, if you question my skill in the Language, I’m your humble Servant the Rogues the Criticks, that will allow me nothing else, give me that; sure I that made the Word, know best what I meant by it: I assure you, doom’d and fated, are quite different things.