Homer in a nutshell, or, His War between the frogs and the mice in three cantos / parapharastically translated by Samuel Parker.
Batrachomyomachia. English. 1700
Homer.
1700
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Homer in a nutshell, or, His War between the frogs and the mice in three cantos / parapharastically translated by Samuel Parker.
Batrachomyomachia. English. 1700
Homer.
Parker, Samuel, 1681-1730.
[8], 20 p.
Printed by Tho. Newborough ...,
London :
MDCC [1700]
In verse.
Errata: preliminary p. [8]
Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.
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HOMER
in
a
Nutshell
:
OR
,
HIS
WAR
BETWEEN
THE
Frogs
and
the
Mice
,
Paraphrastically
Translated
.
In
Three
CANTOS
.
By
SAMVEL
PARKER
,
Gent.
—
Quandoque
bonus
dormitat
Homerus
.
Hor.
de
Arte
Poet.
LONDON
:
Printed
for
Tho.
Newborough
,
at
the
Golden
Ball
in
St.
Paul's
Church-yard
.
MDCC
.
To
Sir
R.
L.
SIR
,
YOU
know
the
Sacredness
of
Liberty
and
Property
.
Now
all
stragling
Apologues
fall
to
you
as
Lord
of
the
Mannor
,
and
the
very
Ghost
of
Aesop
(
no
very
agreable
Appartion
,
you
may
imagin
)
of
Poggius
,
Abstemius
,
and
my
own
old
blind
Author
too
for
Company
,
durst
I
with-hold
the
Due
,
wou'd
e'ry
Night
draw
my
Curtains
'till
You
had
Justice
done
You.
Besides
as
Duty
and
real
Interest
are
ever
inseparable
,
so
particularly
in
the
present
Instance
it
's
the
Privilege
of
Your
humble
Imitators
that
by
doing
You
Fealty
they
challenge
Your
Protection
,
the
very
end
of
Government
,
when
at
the
same
time
too
our
Tribute's
but
a
Peppercorn-rent
,
make
the
best
on
't
,
and
Your
Subjects
are
more
beholden
to
You
for
accepting
,
than
You
to
them
for
paying
their
Acknowledgments
.
I
have
frequently
wonder'd
at
the
Confidence
of
Authors
in
expecting
to
be
gratify'd
for
their
Dedications
,
and
oftener
at
the
Weakness
of
Patrons
,
that
they
'll
vouchsafe
'em
those
dishonourable
Encouragements
.
For
first
,
it
's
Ten
to
One
but
the
great
Man
catches
a
Tartar
,
or
provides
for
a
Bantling
that
is
not
worth
a
Clout
:
Or
secondly
,
if
he
has
reason
to
be
proud
of
his
Purchase
,
all
the
Glory
and
Encomium
of
the
Epistle
smells
abominably
rank
of
Confederacy
and
Bargain
.
Maecenas
but
spoils
his
own
Market
while
he
makes
a
liberal
Art
a
mercenary
one
;
and
when
the
Orator
or
the
Poet
is
to
draw
his
Picture
beyond
the
Life
,
he
cann't
be
contented
unless
he
set
for
't
with
a
Cap
and
Bells
forsooth
!
of
his
own
providing
.
In
a
Word
,
the
Fee
shou'd
rather
accrue
to
the
Patron
from
the
Scribler
,
and
little
enough
at
last
too
considering
what
a
Cause
he
's
oblig'd
to
attend
:
Now
my
little
harmless
homely
Ditty
Petitions
for
no
more
than
barely
the
benefit
of
the
two
Capital
Letters
aforesaid
.
It
applys
in
forma
Pauperis
,
and
the
Translator
will
magnify
Your
Charity
both
in
his
Author's
Name
and
in
his
own
,
if
You
'll
keep
his
Calliope
in
countenance
gratis
.
Nay
indeed
the
whole
is
but
a
Cur'sy
to
my
Dancing-Master
,
pardon
the
levity
of
the
Allusion
.
You
were
my
Apollo
,
my
Helicon
,
and
my
Muses
;
that
Ocean
of
true
Wit
and
good
Sense
from
which
the
Drill
,
as
to
all
that
's
tolerable
in
it
,
derives
itself
,
and
into
which
it
as
naturally
returns
,
'
though
at
the
expence
of
its
Acrimony
in
the
Circulation
.
But
hold
!
't
is
high
time
to
enter
upon
the
main
Business
of
an
Epistle
Dedicatory
,
the
Patron
's
Apotheosis
.
And
what
now
must
I
extol
?
Your
Integrity
,
Constancy
and
Courage
?
Alas
!
't
is
a
long
time
ago
since
these
pass'd
for
recommendatory
Qualities
;
nay
of
very
dangerous
Consequence
might
it
prove
to
us
Both
,
at
this
time
o'
Day
,
should
I
blurt
out
a
Syllable
in
favour
of
'
em
.
Your
Letters
then
,
your
Iudgment
,
your
Wit
,
your
Prudence
?
That
were
as
much
as
to
say
all
the
World
did
not
already
admire
'em
,
ever
excepting
my
Brother
C
—
;
and
I
verily
believe
too
,
even
he
,
cou'd
the
Man
have
as
good
an
Opinion
of
any
Body
as
of
himself
,
wou'd
entertain
it
of
you
.
How
then
shall
I
manage
my
Address
?
Assume
the
modish
Figure
call'd
Apophasis
or
Whispering
aloud
,
and
run
you
a
long
Division
upon
your
several
Excellencies
with
a
Not
to
mention
'
em
?
Or
shall
I
tell
you
that
your
Modesty
being
a
Nusance
to
the
rest
of
your
Virtues
,
I
had
rather
be
wanting
in
my
Duty
to
Them
,
than
most
inhumanely
torture
That
?
Nauseous
,
vile
,
pedantick
Forms
!
and
as
prostituted
Common-places
as
Panegyrick
itself
!
What
remains
therefore
but
the
liberty
of
making
this
brief
,
bare
,
and
simple
,
yet
candid
Profession
,
that
I
am
,
Honour'd
SIR
,
Most
sincerely
and
most
humbly
Your
Servant
,
as
oblig'd
,
S.
Parker
.
THE
PREFACE
.
Gentle
Peruser
!
IN
the
first
place
the
Translator
wou'd
have
thee
know
he
never
pretended
to
the
Character
of
a
Poet
,
and
as
he
desires
to
'scape
the
Scandal
of
the
Name
,
so
he
will
not
value
himself
the
more
for
any
good
Success
,
or
the
less
for
any
Disappointment
;
seeing
after
all
,
in
Things
of
this
Nature
,
every
Man
will
be
his
own
Critick
,
and
the
People
of
nice
Rule
and
quaint
Observation
,
betray
the
vanity
of
their
Maxims
,
while
scarce
a
Couple
in
the
whole
Pack
agree
about
the
suitableness
of
any
one
Ingredient
,
but
that
which
is
most
incompatible
with
the
true
Scope
of
the
Art
,
the
Recommendation
and
Encouragement
of
Immorality
and
Irreligion
:
However
,
finding
himself
dispos'd
now
and
then
to
try
his
Skill
,
and
observing
the
Canto-cut
has
of
late
carry'd
the
Day
,
he
thought
good
to
bestow
a
few
Hours
upon
the
Translation
of
a
Poem
which
,
and
very
deservedly
,
has
been
celebrated
for
many
Ages
;
a
Poem
,
which
for
neatness
of
Wit
,
liveliness
of
Description
and
regularity
of
Conduct
,
equals
any
part
of
the
Iliads
,
perhaps
excells
any
part
of
the
Odysses
.
And
yet
as
just
and
regular
as
I
found
this
Poem
,
I
perceiv'd
it
wou'd
never
jump
in
English
with
the
Humour
of
the
Age
,
till
I
had
spoild
it
by
some
unwarrantable
Alterations
,
which
being
printed
in
a
smaller
Character
,
the
Reader
may
observe
without
the
trouble
of
Comparing
.
The
two
most
material
of
'em
are
these
;
first
,
That
whereas
,
according
to
my
Author
,
the
Frog
seems
not
out
of
a
treacherous
Principle
to
have
serv'd
the
Mouse
as
he
did
,
I
have
made
him
design
the
worst
all
along
,
very
consonantly
too
,
if
I
mistake
not
,
to
the
Character
the
Poet
fixes
afterwards
upon
him
,
where
he
makes
him
vindicate
himself
by
that
egregious
Falsity
,
v.
146.
〈◊〉
〈◊〉
〈◊〉
〈◊〉
〈◊〉
,
&c.
And
not
injuriously
neither
to
the
Series
of
the
Story
:
Then
again
,
that
almost
upon
the
same
Inducements
I
have
made
him
improve
or
rather
explain
the
Stratagem
,
by
which
,
in
the
Conclusion
of
that
Speech
,
the
Frog
proposes
to
defeat
the
Mice
.
Beside
these
many
slighter
Alterations
will
occur
,
and
here
and
there
an
Addition
of
my
own
,
*
but
which
I
hope
he
can
as
readily
forgive
as
discern
.
For
what
relates
to
the
Scope
and
Import
of
the
Fable
,
I
am
not
persuaded
with
Aristobulus
,
that
Homer
compos'd
it
only
for
the
Diversion
and
Exercise
of
School-Boys
;
the
Design
appears
to
have
been
more
momentous
,
it
carries
a
Face
of
Instruction
upon
the
Matter
of
Civil
Government
,
and
the
Moral
is
plainly
Political
.
In
the
occasion
of
the
War
between
the
Frogs
and
the
Mice
,
we
see
with
what
miserable
Consequences
the
generous
Credulity
of
a
Prince
on
one
hand
abus'd
by
the
Craftiness
and
Treachery
of
a
Neighbour
on
the
other
,
is
like
to
be
attended
.
On
the
part
of
the
Mouse
,
't
was
imprudent
to
repose
so
great
Confidence
in
a
Politician
of
a
distinct
or
rather
opposite
Interest
and
Temper
,
tho'
on
the
part
of
the
Frog
't
was
not
only
a
bold
Violation
of
Divine
and
Humane
Laws
to
play
such
a
Game
,
but
still
more
impolitick
to
stir
up
so
Potent
an
Adversary
,
and
dare
the
Vengeance
not
of
Heaven
alone
(
for
he
seems
to
have
troubled
his
Head
little
enough
about
that
)
but
withal
of
so
many
well-disciplined
resolute
Cavaliers
,
of
which
Commotions
the
Issue
will
ever
be
fatal
to
their
Author
,
how
much
soever
Things
may
succeed
to
his
Wishes
for
a
Season
.
The
great
Distributer
of
Dues
loves
to
defer
his
Inflictions
as
long
as
his
Iustice
will
permit
;
but
when
that
Period's
once
expir'd
,
he
sends
down
both
Principal
and
Interest
upon
the
Heads
of
the
Incorrigible
.
I
confess
,
the
Poet
has
not
intimated
so
much
;
nay
,
has
describ'd
Jupiter
as
a
malicious
Enemy
to
the
Mice
.
But
then
we
must
remember
he
had
represented
him
before
in
a
State
of
Indifference
,
resolv'd
with
his
Family
not
to
interpose
in
behalf
of
this
Party
or
that
,
nor
to
concern
himself
otherwise
than
as
an
idle
Spectator
.
Indeed
,
the
freedom
the
Poet
took
with
his
Gods
,
was
,
in
respect
of
himself
,
an
unpardonable
Presumption
,
and
nothing
ought
to
be
built
upon
it
,
or
inferr'd
from
it
.
Agen
,
the
Consummation
of
the
Fray
gives
us
to
understand
,
That
Superiority
and
Dominion
are
the
most
slippery
Things
in
the
World
,
and
have
their
Vicissitudes
of
Rising
and
Sinking
as
necessarily
as
two
Buckets
in
a
Well
.
The
Mice
at
first
are
too
hard
for
the
Frogs
,
and
't
was
but
Reason
to
imagine
'em
so
'till
they
had
taken
their
just
Revenge
:
But
then
the
Crabs
came
upon
the
Mice
in
the
very
Pride
of
their
Victory
,
and
by
a
course
kind
of
Argument
,
convinc'd
'em
in
their
turn
of
the
Instability
of
Human
Affairs
.
Nay
,
there
's
yet
a
further
meaning
in
the
Close
of
the
Allegory
;
for
'
though
the
Frogs
deserv'd
ten
times
more
than
what
they
suffer'd
from
the
Mice
;
yet
we
know
,
the
Mice
hod
been
as
little
remarkable
for
strict
Morals
as
the
most
profligate
Animals
that
e'r
mov'd
upon
all
Four.
The
Temptation
of
a
mouldy
Crust
cou'd
prevail
with
'em
at
any
time
to
break
thro'
all
Obligations
of
Religion
and
Honour
.
The
Suggestions
of
their
Appetites
they
made
the
Rule
of
their
Duty
,
and
pretended
a
Privilege
,
under
the
Notion
of
Natural
Freedom
,
to
plunder
their
Landlords
and
One
another
as
often
as
they
pleas'd
:
How
then
were
the
Caitiffs
rigorously
dealt
with
?
What
reason
had
they
to
expect
more
favour
than
the
Frogs
?
In
good
earnest
,
I
think
they
had
too
much
shew'd
'em
before
;
and
't
was
an
Act
of
special
Condescension
in
Jupiter
to
lay
the
Frogs
at
the
Mercy
of
the
Mice
,
and
not
the
Mice
rather
at
the
Mercy
of
the
Frogs
.
And
so
much
by
way
of
Interpretation
.
If
the
Criticks
shou'd
be
displeas'd
at
any
Grammatical
or
Poetical
Liberties
I
have
taken
,
they
'd
highly
oblige
me
.
And
the
longer
Bill
the●
prefer
,
the
better
:
Though
let
'em
distort
Words
,
mangle
Periods
,
and
misapply
Aristotle
,
Horace
,
and
Bossu
,
till
they
're
out
of
breath
,
I
'll
lay
'em
a
Wager
at
last
they
cann't
discover
so
many
Faults
in
the
Performance
as
their
humble
Servant
.
I
earnestly
beg
of
'em
to
honour
me
with
a
Hiss
,
and
shall
be
most
proud
of
their
Condemnation
,
well-knowing
their
Sentence
is
always
to
be
constru'd
,
like
O
—
ts's
Depositions
,
backward
.
Ever
since
I
caught
some
termagant
Ones
in
a
Club
,
undervaluing
our
new
Translation
of
Virgil
,
I
've
known
both
what
Opinion
I
ought
to
harbour
,
and
what
use
to
make
of
'em
,
and
since
the
Opportunity
of
a
Digression
so
luckily
presents
it self
,
I
shall
make
bold
to
ask
the
Gentlemen
their
Sentiments
of
two
or
three
Lines
(
to
pass
over
a
thousand
other
Instances
)
which
they
may
meet
with
in
that
Work.
The
fourth
Aeneid
says
of
Dido
,
after
certain
Effects
of
her
taking
Shelter
with
Aeneas
in
the
Cave
appear
,
Conjugium
vocat
,
hoc
praetexit
nomine
culpam
.
v.
172.
Which
Mr.
Dryden
renders
thus
,
She
call'd
it
Marriage
,
by
that
specious
Name
To
veil
the
Crime
and
sanctifie
the
Shame
.
Nor
had
he
before
less
happlily
render'd
the
39th
Verse
of
the
second
Aeneid
,
Scinditur
incertum
studia
in
contraria
vulgus
.
The
giddy
Vulgar
,
as
their
Fansies
guide
,
With
noise
say
nothing
,
and
in
Parts
divide
.
If
these
are
the
Lines
which
they
call
Flat
and
Spiritless
,
I
wish
mine
cou'd
be
Flat
and
Spiritless
too
!
And
therefore
to
make
short
work
,
I
shall
only
beg
Mr.
Dryden's
leave
to
congratulate
him
upon
his
admirable
Flatness
and
Dulness
in
a
Rapture
of
Poetical
Indignation
,
Then
dares
the
*
poring
Critick
snarl
?
And
dare
The
*
puny
Brats
of
Momus
threaten
War
?
And
cann't
the
proud
perverse
Arachne's
Fate
Deter
the
*
Mungrils
e'r
it
prove
too
late
?
In
vain
,
alass
!
we
warn
the
*
harden'd
Brood
:
In
vain
expect
they
'll
ever
come
to
good
.
No
:
They'd
conceive
more
Venom
if
they
cou'd
.
But
let
each
*
Viper
at
his
Peril
bite
,
While
you
defie
the
most
ingenious
Spite
.
So
Parian
Columns
rais'd
with
costly
care
*
Vile
Snails
and
Worms
may
dawb
,
yet
not
impaire
,
While
the
tough
Titles
and
obdurate
Rime
Fateague
the
busie
Grinders
of
old
Time.
Not
but
your
Maro
justly
may
complain
,
Since
your
Translation
ends
his
ancient
Reign
,
And
but
by
your
officious
Muse
outvy'd
,
That
vast
Immortal
Name
had
never
dy'd
.
But
asking
my
Reader
's
Pardon
for
my
Impertinences
,
I
have
now
no
more
to
add
,
but
desire
him
to
fall
to
,
and
much
good
may
't
do
him
.
ERRATA
.
PAge
9.
line
15.
for
Wight
read
Wights
,
p.
11.
l.
15.
for
were
r.
wee
,
p.
17.
l.
8.
for
fix
r.
fix'd
,
p.
17.
l.
20.
for
wreathing
r.
wreaking
,
p.
18.
l.
13.
for
Boaster
r.
Bogster
.
Homer
in
a
Nutshell
.
CANTO
I.
WHEN
now
the
murm'ring
Vaulters
of
the
Mead
Had
climb'd
to
Pow'r
,
and
rear'd
a
mighty
Breed
:
Doom'd
by
Latona
for
a
bruitish
Crime
To
Stygian
Mud
and
pestilential
Slime
,
'Till
Application
,
Stratagem
,
and
Trade
,
A
Blessing
of
the
Malediction
made
;
And
what
with
strenuous
Limbs
,
and
slight
of
Art
,
Tough
Lungs
,
auspicious
Leaps
,
and
hollow
Heart
,
More
Wealth
,
more
Splendor
,
more
Command
acquir'd
,
Than
if
the
Boors
had
never
been
bemir'd
.
When
now
the
little
,
shaggy
,
liqu'rish
Race
Of
Animals
that
scud
from
Place
to
Place
,
Or
galloping
through
pliant
Grass
and
Wheat
,
Or
gluttonously
bury'd
in
their
Meat
,
Still
trembling
,
jealous
,
malecontent
,
altho'
Thrice
happy
,
wou'd
they
let
themselves
be
so
;
Grown
up
t'
a
populous
and
potent
State
Had
surfeited
on
Tides
of
luscious
Fate
,
Nor
valu'd
foreign
Friends
,
nor
foreign
Hate
,
A
dire
Campaign
commenc'd
:
Less
veh'ment
far
Th'
outragious
Flame
of
the
Titanian
War
,
Then
when
the
lofty
Boys
of
sullen
Ops
With
Dragon
Feet
oppress'd
the
Mountain-tops
:
Rocks
pil'd
on
Rocks
,
from
ruinous
Ascents
Crowding
they
storm'd
Heav'n's
Sapphir-Battlements
,
While
the
warm
Gods
bright
Vollies
fast
return'd
,
And
with
vindictive
Flames
the
hissing
Aether
burn'd
.
Desert
,
harmonious
Nine
,
your
sacred
Hill
▪
A
Work
divine
proceeds
:
Inspire
my
Quill
,
Inspire
as
when
my
Verse
ye
form'd
of
old
:
Verse
that
in
lowd
Heroick
Numbers
rowl'd
:
Your
Bard
invokes
,
propitiously
disclose
From
what
malignant
Seeds
the
Feud
arose
.
Grim
Puss
,
the
squeaking
Nation
's
watchful
Bane
Pursu'd
a
Mouse
,
and
almost
had
o'rta'n
,
Yet
miss'd
the
Racer
,
whose
laborious
Flight
,
Full
near
as
fatal
as
Grimalkin's
Bite
,
Enforc'd
with
Fears
had
Nature's
Tone
unstrung
,
And
to
his
droughthy
Pallat
glu'd
his
Tongue
.
The
next
cool
Plash
he
seeks
,
and
soon
arrives
Where
plunging
deep
his
Beard
the
Wight
revives
.
But
scarce
was
drench'd
when
from
th'
unwholsome
Flood
King
Bogrill
issu'd
,
and
thus
croak'd
aloud
.
Soho
!
My
Friend
in
venerable
Fur
!
What
are
you
,
say
,
and
whence
,
Platonick
Sir
?
Fictions
and
Quibbles
will
disgrace
your
Coat
:
But
if
you
hold
in
one
consistent
Note
,
You
're
welcome
to
the
Monarch
of
this
Ditch
,
A
Monarch
,
tho'
I
say
't
,
renown'd
and
rich
,
By
King
Crocracro
,
when
his
Love
was
hot
,
Upon
the
Body
of
Queen
Skip
begot
.
And
not
to
flatter
,
in
that
Sylvan
Face
Methinks
I
read
a
brave
Majestick
Grace
,
If
my
nice
Opticks
grosly
don
't
deceive
,
Or
Laws
of
Phis'nomy
we
may
believe
.
—
My
Life
on
't
,
bred
to
War
,
and
nobly
steel'd
,
Thy
Looks
,
my
Lad
,
proclaim
thee
of
the
Field
.
To
him
Illustrious
Nibble
:
For
your
Sense
,
I
say
no
more
;
but
your
Intelligence
Imperfect
is
,
or
none
;
else
at
first
view
You
must
have
seen
both
whence
I
am
and
who
.
From
Pypick
and
Queen
Curdylip
I
spring
,
Great
Snapcrust's
Daughter
,
and
my self
a
King.
My
Royal
Mother
,
Sir
,
was
brought
a'
Bed
In
Grange
magnificent
,
and
there
she
bred
Her
Child
so
well
,
ne'er
Mousling
better
fed
.
Figs
,
mellow
Figs
my
Breakfast
ev'ry
Morn
,
At
Noon
Plum-pudding
,
and
at
Night
young
Corn.
So
far'd
long
since
the
plain
Pypickian
Court
,
But
now
we
Diet
in
a
daintier
sort
.
Then
,
with
Submission
,
what
your
Highness
croaks
,
Tho'
kindly
meant
,
appears
a
Paradox
;
That
you
,
a
Frog
,
and
I
shou'd
correspond
:
For
how
shou'd
Frogs
of
Inland
Mice
grow
fond
?
Or
We
converse
with
Sprawlers
of
the
Pond
?
A
most
absurd
Alliance
't
is
we
wish
,
You
cannot
live
in
Meal
,
nor
I
with
Fish.
Man's
Meat
is
mine
,
and
of
each
sort
the
best
,
Rich
Soops
,
Ragous
,
and
Hashes
nicely
drest
:
Your
Marmalets
,
your
candy'd
Peels
I
love
,
The
Ladies
and
my Self
are
Hand
and
Glove
.
Sated
with
Kickshaws
I
the
Gentry
quit
,
To
tast
below
,
for
change
,
a
coarser
Bit.
Cream-cheese
,
cold
Capon
,
Ven'son-Pasty
,
Chine
,
Just
so
the
Gods
themselves
wou'd
like
to
Dine
;
For
let
Romantick
Fools
chant
what
they
please
,
Ambrosia's
e'en
Poor
Iack
compar'd
to
these
.
What
skill
in
Arms
and
Courage
I
've
exprest
,
The
Foe
that
felt
their
Force
can
tell
you
best
.
Mounting
a
Mole
,
soon
as
the
Charge
we
hear
,
I
still
the
foremost
of
our
Troops
appear
.
Death
undismay'd
in
twenty
Forms
I
meet
,
And
by
my
bold
Example
still
defeat
Our
Army's
Flight
,
and
all
th'
Invader's
Heat
.
Nor
Butlers
me
nor
Bumkins
can
surprize
;
My
Courage
bears
proportion
to
their
Size
.
Or
if
●●y
turgid
Nerves
shou'd
chance
to
fail
,
My
vengeful
Politicks
,
be
sure
,
prevail
.
Does
Cook-maid
spy
me
mumping
a
Recruit
,
And
with
a
Woman's
Fury
pers●cute
?
No
sooner
bouncing
Bridget
snoars
in
bed
,
And
dreams
of
Dalliances
with
Coachman
Ned
,
But
up
creeps
Tit-mouse
,
ventures
at
a
bite
,
Disturbs
imagin'd
Sweets
,
and
so
good
Night
.
O
cou'd
I
once
from
Kites
and
Cats
be
freed
,
Vermin
by
Fate
arm'd
to
destroy
the
Breed
!
Cou'd
I
from
that
curs'd
Fabrick
be
secure
,
Dragg'd
into
which
by
some
enchanting
Lure
,
Ourselves
precipitate
th'
impending
Snare
,
And
block
up
all
Retreats
but
black
Despair
,
Confin'd
above
by
stubborn
Canopy
,
Hew'n
from
the
Trunk
of
the
dread
Thund'rer's
Tree
,
Champing
in
vain
our
Adamantine
Grate
,
As
unrelenting
as
the
force
of
Fate
!
O!
might
I
get
these
Grievances
redrest
,
No
Polycrates
cou'd
be
half
so
blest
!
'Till
then
my
want
of
Manners
you
'll
excuse
,
If
such
kind
Invitations
I
refuse
.
You
much
oblige
me
,
Sir
:
But
I
profess
I
ne'er
lov'd
Duckry
nor
your
Water-cress
.
He
say'd
:
The
marshy
Monarch
grinning
wide
,
To
his
departing
Stranger
thus
reply'd
,
Yet
stay
,
my
Godlike
Guest
—
Let
me
for
once
your
Majesty
convince
,
These
Realms
yield
Belly-timber
for
a
Prince
.
On
Dainties
of
the
Garden
or
the
Brook
We
glut
,
and
Nature
our
unerring
Cook.
With
foreign
Guegaws
and
domestick
stor'd
I
'll
furnish
out
,
believe
me
,
such
a
Board
,
As
might
transport
,
cou'd
but
the
Trick
be
try'd
,
Sardanapalus
in
a
Mouses
Hide
.
Only
be
pleas'd
(
and
make
no
more
ado
)
To
board
my
Back
instead
of
a
Canow
,
Securely
so
,
my
Lord
,
you
'll
ferry
o'r
,
And
at
the
Pallace-stairs
be
set
a'shoar
.
Advising
thus
the
Prince
expos'd
his
Back
,
And
Russet
rode
as
soon
a-pick-a-pack
.
He
smirks
,
he
cocks
his
Ears
,
and
works
his
Tail
,
O'rjoy'd
to
think
how
rarely
he
shall
sail
;
'Till
his
Canow
plung'd
all
into
the
Deep
,
And
then
the
banter'd
Knight
begun
to
weep
.
In
rage
he
plucks
his
Furs
,
robustly
spurns
With
quiv'ring
Haunches
,
while
at
Soul
he
burns
.
He
felt
his
Honour
had
receiv'd
a
Wound
,
And
wish'd
but
for
the
sight
of
solid
Ground
.
Much
he
resents
his
Fate
,
but
more
he
fears
:
Now
with
stiff
Tail
he
rows
,
and
now
he
steers
.
Witness
,
Immortal
Pow'rs
,
he
cry'd
,
and
Thou
—
And
then
the
Diver
duck'd
his
Cargo
low
.
Restor'd
to
kindly
Draughts
of
upper
Air
He
thus
proceeds
,
Great
Iove
once
proud
to
bear
Thy
trembling
Mistress
on
thy
goodly
Chine
Thro'
frothy
Tumors
of
the
dancing
Brine
,
Behold
!
—
But
e'r
that
Word
his
Lips
escap'd
,
A
painted
Floater
,
formidably
shap'd
Travers'd
the
curling
Tide
,
a
hungry
Pest
,
With
Jaws
Tartarian
and
erected
Crest
.
The
yellow
Knight
near
Danger
apprehends
,
And
biting
poor
Pilgarlick's
Fingers-ends
,
Breaks
his
Embrace
,
and
into
Mud
descends
.
In
vain
the
vig'rous
Chief
deserted
sprawls
,
Beats
the
vext
Element
,
and
pants
,
and
calls
.
Thrice
through
th'
Abyss
unwillingly
he
sinks
,
Emerges
thrice
,
yet
soon
chill
Death
he
drinks
,
For
now
the
soaky
Hide
too
pond'rous
grew
,
And
boding
thus
he
bid
the
Light
adieu
.
Yes
,
Traytor
,
thou
shalt
feel
,
and
that
e'r
long
,
How
much
th'
offended
Gods
resent
my
Wrong
.
Iove
sends
his
Bolts
on
thy
devoted
Head
,
My self
infernal
Scorpions
from
the
Dead
.
O!
had'st
thou
call'd
me
to
the
Lists
,
and
there
Approv'd
thy
Skill
—
But
,
Slave
,
thou
did'st
not
dare
.
Expect
avenging
Squadrons
on
thy
Coast
To
sacrifice
thee
to
my
longing
Ghost
.
He
spoke
:
Then
with
a
mighty
Plunge
expir'd
,
And
down
to
Styx
his
angry
Shade
retir'd
.
CANTO
II.
FIxt
on
the
mossy
Bank
an
Ozier
Shed
O'rlook'd
the
Lake
,
long
time
inhabited
By
Tallow-lick
,
a
Mouse
of
Life
obscure
,
An
humble
Rustick
,
honest
,
old
,
and
poor
.
He
from
his
Lattice
first
discern'd
a'float
Th'
extended
Hero
,
and
in
pitteous
Note
,
Much
injur'd
Prince
,
he
screams
,
nor
stands
to
dress
,
But
up
to
Court
flies
with
the
sad
Express
.
Revenge
and
Grief
,
e'r
scarce
the
Tale
was
heard
,
In
each
wild
Face
Competitors
appear'd
.
Full-proof
against
the
Toyls
and
Storms
of
State
,
The
good
old
King
now
sunk
beneath
this
Weight
:
To
soothing
Comforts
deaf
the
frentick
Queen
Tears
off
her
Ermin
,
skulks
and
wo'n't
be
seen
.
The
py-bald
Nymphs
his
ev'ry
Grace
recal
,
And
much
deplore
the
Youth
's
untimely
Fall.
Scarce
was
the
King's
cold
Paroxysm
spent
Of
Woe
,
when
Rage
supplanting
Discontent
,
Four
Heralds
he
around
the
Pallace
sends
To
cite
his
faithful
Counsellors
and
Friends
.
Soon
to
the
Board
the
cited
Council
run
,
Where
thus
aloud
th'
impatient
King
begun
.
Sirs
,
't
is
a
publick
Wound
.
Not
I'm
alone
Depriv'd
of
th'
Heir
and
Collegue
of
my
Throne
.
My
Subjects
too
have
lost
a
mighty
stay
:
I
miss
my
Child
,
but
their
Defender
They
—
Curst
Fate
of
a
declining
Sire
!
To
see
Of
three
brave
Sons
the
sad
Catastrophe
!
My
First
by
tabby
Cannibal
destroy'd
,
My
Second
into
Wooden
Death
decoy'd
!
And
now
the
hopefull'st
of
my
Stem
is
found
By
a
false
Monarch
in
his
Marshes
drown'd
.
To
Arms
,
to
Arms
!
Th'
Occasion
checks
Delay
:
Old
as
I
am
my self
will
lead
the
way
.
Scarce
the
gray
Sage
had
clos'd
his
trembling
Lips
,
When
from
the
Clouds
the
God
of
Battle
slips
,
And
with
rich
Arms
the
zealous
Wight
equips
.
A
Coat
of
Mail
to
cover
Back
and
Side
,
He
plaited
from
a
Snake's
forsaken
Hide
.
Dry
Pescods
,
whose
green
Embryos
once
had
lin'd
Their
Bellies
,
now
around
their
Shanks
they
bind
.
Flat
Cockle-shells
on
Gravel-Walk
new
lay'd
Impenetrable
,
radiant
Corslets
made
.
Nor
sought
th'
assiduous
Band
in
vain
for
Shields
,
A
Brazier's
Shop
a
thousand
Save-alls
yields
.
A
Foot
of
Wire
each
haughty
Pikeman
trails
,
And
at
their
Hips
hang
(
four
a
Penny
)
Nails
.
Helmets
of
Acorn-cups
their
Fronts
protect
,
With
Tags
of
Silk
and
waving
Plume
bedeckt
.
Appointed
thus
through
Labyrinths
of
Grass
,
The
Warriors
to
their
Expedition
pass
.
Mean
while
preventing
Fame
,
of
eager
Flight
As
Northern
Blasts
,
pernicious
as
their
Blight
,
A
sprouting
Ill
,
on
her
own
Vitals
fed
,
At
first
a
Dwarf
,
in
Cells
and
Grotto's
bred
,
But
soon
the
yielding
Clouds
receive
her
Head
;
With
Noise
,
and
Lies
,
and
Obloquys
ne'r
cloy'd
,
All
Ears
,
all
Eyes
,
all
Tongue
,
and
All
employ'd
,
Alarms
th'
amphibious
People
of
the
Lake
:
To
Shoar
the
terrify'd
Musicians
make
.
Grave
Magistrates
in
a
long
rev'rend
Train
Hop
to
the
shining
Capitol
a
main
,
The
noisy
Mob
expecting
all
around
Th'
event
of
Consultations
so
profound
.
But
e'r
th'
august
Assembly
deep
had
div'd
Into
the
Meaning
,
from
the
Mice
arriv'd
A
valiant
Herald
,
portly
Mumblebun
,
Magnanimous
Lapcustard's
eldest
Son
,
Who
boldly
thus
the
Senators
addrest
,
My
Lords
,
my
Master
wou'd
ha'
scorn'd
t'infest
Your
happy
State
;
but
not
to
prosecute
So
foul
a
Fact
wou'd
make
him
Party
to
't
.
On
him
the
Guilt
of
Murder
must
devolve
,
Did
he
not
now
by
Force
of
Arms
resolve
You
Prince
to
punish
,
who
but
yesternight
,
Spight
of
all
National
and
Private
Right
,
Betray'd
and
Drown'd
great
Pypick's
gallant
Heir
:
For
War
,
for
hideous
War
,
ye
Frogs
,
prepare
.
He
menacing
withdrew
,
and
rugged
Notes
Result
confus'dly
from
their
lab'ring
Throats
.
Against
th'
Aggressor
lowd
Complaints
arise
,
Who
thus
evades
the
Charge
with
specious
Lies
,
Witness
,
ye
Pow'rs
,
to
whose
especial
Care
The
Rights
of
Truth
and
Faith
submitted
are
:
Blast
me
with
exemplary
Plagues
,
and
shed
Contagions
thick
on
this
perfidious
Head
,
If
Bogrill
e'r
has
instrumental
been
To
the
young
Prince's
Harm
,
or
e'r
has
seen
Or
heard
of
his
Mishap
!
A-lack-a-day
!
I
warrant
you
the
Lad
was
got
to
Play
,
And
marking
how
the
Pool
were
crost
and
crost
,
He
must
be
padling
too
,
and
so
was
lost
!
Shall
I
then
smart
if
such
an
Oaf
as
This
Must
have
his
Frolick
,
and
succeeds
amiss
?
Hard
Fate
of
Innocence
!
to
bear
the
Blame
Of
blackest
Crimes
,
because
too
meek
and
tame
!
Yet
if
your
Lordships
will
my
Counsel
take
,
The
Foe
shall
feel
,
Wounded
it
can
awake
.
A
Project
I
've
conceiv'd
,
which
if
pursu'd
Infallibly
roots
out
the
dusky
Brood
.
Rang'd
in
a
File
,
on
some
commodious
Rise
,
Wee
'll
watch
their
Troops
,
and
to
the
Bank
entice
:
Then
when
their
Onset
they
with
Fury
make
,
Wheel
off
,
and
let
'em
rush
into
the
Lake
:
Or
,
shou'd
they
halt
in
Rear
,
our
Wings
defil'd
Charge
'em
behind
,
and
drown
each
Mother's
Child
.
So
shall
one
wavy
Tomb
the
Herd
embrace
,
And
with
rich
Trophees
we
the
Conquest
grace
.
He
say'd
;
but
mist
of
the
propos'd
Event
,
The
conscious
Fairies
publish'd
his
Intent
.
And
now
th'
applauding
Troglodytes
adjourn
To
seek
what
Armour
best
may
serve
the
turn
.
As
round
their
little
Alps
I've
often
'
spy'd
Industrious
Insects
Aliment
provide
;
Here
in
stretch'd
Mouth
up
steep
unequal
Ways
A
single
Slave
a
single
Seed
conveys
.
There
sable
Troops
confederating
draw
One
Grain
of
Wheat
,
or
half
an
Inch
of
Straw
.
With
frugal
Fervency
the
Work
they
press
,
And
baffle
bleak
December's
near
Distress
.
Thus
each
brave
Myrmidon
designing
Greaves
,
Round
his
Supporters
fibrous
Mallows
weaves
.
Light
Corslets
broken
Shells
of
Eggs
afford
,
And
a
tough
springy
Bulrush
many
a
Sword.
For
Targets
empty
Cockle-shells
they
found
:
Their
Heads
high
Periwinkle-Turbants
crown'd
.
Adorn'd
,
the
buxom
Champions
take
their
Post
,
A
menacing
,
proud
,
formidable
Host.
Observing
Iove
,
by
Maia's
active
Son
Summons
the
Gods
:
To
Council-board
they
run
,
Whence
the
pleas'd
Thund'rer
shews
the
comick
Scene
Of
the
new
War
,
and
what
the
Rivals
mean
,
The
Conduct
of
the
Generals
,
and
their
Strength
,
Th'
Invention
of
their
Lances
,
and
their
length
,
And
how
the
strutting
Bands
with
Pride
advanc'd
,
As
tow'rd
the
Foe
the
restiff
Centaurs
pranc'd
.
Then
jocundly
enquir'd
—
Say
to
which
Int'rest
,
Gods
,
y'
are
most
inclin'd
,
Bogrill's
or
Pypick's
:
Freely
tell
your
Mind
.
Minerva
,
what
say'st
thou
,
my
Wench
,
speak
out
—
Ha!
which
dost
like
,
my
Girl
?
—
The
Mice
,
no
doubt
,
The
witty
,
wanton
Mice
—
With
Aristippick
Zeal
and
sly
Design
Frisking
and
bustling
round
thy
Silver
Shrine
,
'Till
Victims
broil
and
unctuous
Odours
mount
;
Their
Vigilance
then
turns
to
good
Account
.
No
,
my
dread
Sire
,
reply'd
the
martial
Maid
,
That
sacrilegious
Crew
I
'll
never
aid
.
Prophane
Poultrons
!
that
all
my
Garlands
spoil
,
Steal
to
my
Lamps
,
and
lap
away
my
Oil.
What
strange
,
malicious
Tricks
,
each
Hour
they
play
'T
were
tedious
to
relate
.
But
t'other
Day
Upon
my
Tissue-Vest
by
Hands
divine
Embroider'd
,
did
the
hungry
Caitiffs
dine
.
The
Mercer
(
for
my
Priest
had
tick'd
for
Silk
)
Duns
as
he
were
to
break
,
and
smells
a
Bilk
.
Nor
shall
my
Succour
to
the
Frogs
be
lent
,
The
filthy
Spawn
of
Nature's
Excrement
,
A
lowd
,
unfashion'd
Species
:
Nay
(
t'evince
How
just
my
Accusation
)
four
Days
since
Spent
with
the
Trade
of
War
,
and
in
pursuit
Of
gentle
Morpheus
for
a
kind
recruit
,
I
lay'd
me
down
upon
an
Oozy-bed
,
When
presently
came
droaning
round
my
Head
Ten
thousand
Skip-jacks
,
and
'till
Night's
dull
shade
Gave
place
to
Day
,
renew'd
their
Serenade
.
The
silent
Pow'r
,
obnoxious
to
Surprize
,
Abhorr'd
the
Din
,
and
fled
my
wishing
Eyes
.
Impartialy
let
's
all
th'
Event
attend
,
And
neither
Faction
worry
or
befriend
.
There
's
Danger
in
th'
Engagement
,
for
who
knows
But
shou'd
the
'
Squires
once
come
to
Handy-Blows
,
Rough
Mars
agen
might
from
a
mortal
Arm
Receive
a
pungent
,
rude
,
opprobrious
Harm
,
And
Cytherea's
Hand
forfeit
another
Charm
?
Supinely
rather
and
unmov'd
survey
The
various
Feats
and
Fortune
of
the
Day
.
Thus
She
:
The
merry
Pow'rs
th'
Advice
approve
,
And
all
to
advantageous
Posts
remove
.
CANTO
III.
FOrth
from
each
Camp
two
stalking
Heralds
came
,
The
near
approach
of
Battle
to
proclaim
.
Behind
shrill
Hornets
,
musical
and
large
,
Tumultuous
Clangors
mingling
sound
the
Charge
:
While
Saturn's
Son
their
Arms
to
dignify
Rowls
ominous
Thunder
through
the
ratling
Sky
.
First
fell
gigantick
Crambeef
in
the
Van
,
A
daring
Chief
,
his
length
near
half
a
Span
,
Struck
by
a
Lance
from
Gabberillo
sent
;
It
pierc'd
his
Paunch
and
through
the
Liver
went.
The
Champion's
Fall
resounding
Earth
bespeaks
,
And
clotted
Dust
deforms
his
grov'ling
Cheeks
.
Rough
Skulk
a
Jav'lin
next
at
Bungy
threw
,
Hissing
it
pass'd
,
and
through
his
Corslet
flew
:
Down
,
down
he
sinks
;
his
eager
Heart
transfix'd
Spews
out
sweet
Life
with
purple
Oceans
mixt
.
At
old
Lapcustard
Grub
a
Shaft
let
fly
,
Which
glancing
through
his
Temples
reach'd
his
Eye
:
An
easy
Conquest
instant
Fate
obtain'd
,
And
clos'd
the
Luminary
that
remain'd
.
At
bulky
Groggle
fierce
Bisketto
cast
A
Spear
,
which
singing
in
t
'
his
Garbage
past
.
He
grunts
not
long
nor
welters
in
his
Gore
,
E'r
his
griev'd
Soul
finds
out
the
new-made
Door
.
No
sooner
Bogrill
had
the
Loss
beheld
,
But
black
Revenge
his
angry
Bosom
swell'd
.
Collecting
all
his
Force
,
and
straining
oft
The
Monarch
brandish'd
with
his
Arms
aloft
A
wild
,
unhandy
,
ragged
Peble-stone
,
Which
crushing
Sculk
athwart
the
Shoulder-bone
,
Scarce
left
him
a
Reprieve
to
fetch
a
Groan
.
His
Son
black
Carrotscoop
at
Bogrill's
Groin
Enrag'd
took
aim
,
nor
mist
of
his
Design
.
No
sooner
the
Disaster
Wamble
knew
,
But
to
the
Water
parrying
he
withdrew
,
While
Carrotscroop
prest
on
,
'till
Wamble
reels
Into
the
Ditch
,
and
pulls
him
in
by
th'
Heels
.
Immerst
their
Blows
the
hardy
Champions
ply
,
And
Stripes
of
Crimson
the
Maeotis
dye
,
'Till
truss'd
along
the
Margin
of
the
Flood
Lay
Wamble
,
and
the
Mousling
in
the
Mud.
So
when
young
Spaniel
sent
by
clam'rous
Boys
A
rough
Athenian
Fowl
in
Pond
annoys
,
The
Philosophick
Bird
with
Beak
and
Claw
Returns
his
keen
Salutes
of
Tooth
and
Paw
.
Now
yelping
Pups
prevails
,
now
hooting
Madge
,
And
Plumes
and
curling
Locks
bestrow
the
liquid
Stage
.
Poppin
at
further
distance
from
the
Brook
,
Assail'd
sage
Butterbeard
and
Pris'ner
took
.
Sleek
Gobbletart
engag'd
stout
Specklebum
,
But
Speckle
left
his
Shield
and
off
he
swum
.
Morasse
discharg'd
a
Slat
,
and
with
the
stroak
Mump's
Neck
most
diomedicaly
broke
.
From
both
his
Nostrils
mucous
Brain
distill'd
,
And
blended
with
black
Gore
enrich'd
the
barren
Field
.
Wallow
from
Tallowlick
receiv'd
a
Wound
,
The
Pike
o'rturning
fix
him
to
the
Ground
.
On
Egdrain
then
disturb'd
Treadwavio
flew
,
Tripp'd
up
his
Heels
,
and
into
Puddle
drew
,
There
by
main
Strength
he
held
the
Pilf'rer
down
,
Insulting
thus
,
Drown
,
rav'nous
Monster
,
drown
:
Since
you
're
so
good
at
sucking
,
call
me
Fool
If
I
don't
give
you
now
your
Belly-full
,
And
dows'd
him
headlong
down
to
Phlegeton
.
But
Pypick
,
now
his
dearest
Friends
were
gone
,
Driv'n
by
Revenge
and
rash
Despair
along
,
As
when
Convulsions
make
a
Patient
strong
,
Up
to
majestick
Ambergillo
made
,
In
the
proud
Croaker
sheath'd
his
wreathing
Blade
,
And
forc'd
him
through
th'
Infernal
Mote
to
wade
.
Soon
as
Codrillo
the
Disaster
'
spy'd
,
Grasping
soft
Clay
and
something
soft
beside
,
The
mellow
Shot
on
Pypick
he
conferr'd
,
Bung'd
up
his
Eyes
,
and
damnify'd
his
Beard
.
Transported
by
fresh
Injuries
the
King
Grop'd
out
a
Stone
,
and
with
a
veh'ment
Spring
Against
Codrillo
sent
,
a
rocky
Stone
,
Fit
for
a
Pigmy-Leader
to
have
thrown
.
Codrillo's
Ankles
felt
the
batt'ring
Mass
,
And
groaning
hoarse
he
dropt
into
the
Grass
.
Duke
Dabble
brook'd
not
this
unnat'ral
Deed
,
But
fiercely
brandishing
his
pointed
Reed
,
Inch-deep
into
the
Cawl
his
Highness
struck
,
And
with
the
Lance
drew
out
Imperial
Pluck
.
Grave
Brewis
on
a
verdant
Ridge
reclin'd
To
sooth
his
Wounds
,
felt
greater
in
his
Mind
.
The
mangled
Monarch
much
his
Sight
offends
,
And
rather
than
be
butcher'd
like
his
Friends
,
Into
the
Dike
he
chearfully
descends
.
Old
Snapcrust
,
as
gay
Bogrill
vaunting
stood
,
Wounded
his
Foot
:
The
Boaster
saw
the
Blood
,
Perceiv'd
the
Smart
,
and
took
in
hast
the
Flood
.
Snapcrust
precipitantly
to
pursue
Th'
unfinish'd
Work
of
Death
e'en
stept
in
too
.
Stern
Didap
,
when
he
saw
the
King
distrest
,
Through
the
wild
Tumult
of
the
Battle
prest
,
And
tost
his
taper
Weapon
,
though
in
vain
;
The
sounding
Target
sent
it
back
again
.
But
none
of
the
Pypickians
might
compare
For
Backsword
or
Sasa
with
Scamblefare
,
Undaunted
Scamblefare
the
dear
Delight
Of
surly
Mars
,
and
Son
to
Gristlebite
.
Boasting
he
stemm'd
the
War's
impetuous
Tide
,
Prevailing
more
than
all
the
Mice
beside
.
On
the
rais'd
Bank
he
struts
:
Thence
threat'ning
lowd
Portends
Excision
to
the
croaking
Crowd
:
And
had
much
more
than
menac'd
(
for
his
Word
Was
ne'r
too
big
or
little
for
his
Sword
)
But
Heav'n's
grand
Sov'reign
saw
the
coming
Stroak
,
And
melting
into
Pitty
Silence
broke
,
With
solemn
Nod
:
See
there
,
ye
Gods
,
see
there
Th'
attempts
of
bloody-minded
Scamblefare
!
Minerva
—
Mars
—
stoop
with
a
rapid
Flight
,
And
drive
the
fell
Insulter
from
the
Fight
!
Thus
Iove
:
To
whom
the
God
of
Arms
,
Not
I
,
Nor
She
,
nor
all
our
Peers
throughout
the
Sky
Can
aid
the
Frogs
:
However
we
may
try
.
If
our
Joint-Pow'rs
the
Mischief
cann't
remove
,
Still
our
Benignity
we
shall
approve
—
Or
what
if
downward
you
a
Bolt
shou'd
dart
,
A
sputt'ring
Bolt
forg'd
with
laborious
Art
?
Such
as
on
Phlaegra's
execrable
Plain
Besieg'd
your
vext
Divinity
did
rain
,
When
the
tall
Brood
which
Earth's
damp
Cayerns
bore
,
You
riveted
to
Mountains
whence
their
Arms
they
tore
.
He
say'd
.
The
Son
of
Saturn
rising
hurl'd
A
Lemnian
Shaft
,
and
stunn'd
the
upper
World.
Down
from
the
rocking
Orbs
the
Tempest
came
,
Usher'd
by
Preludes
of
diffusive
Flame
.
At
first
both
Armies
fear
:
Yet
this
Device
Affrights
not
from
Hostilities
the
Mice
,
The
Froggish
Name
t'
extinguish
boldly
bent
,
But
squeamish
Iove
averse
to
their
Intent
,
Puissant
Succours
to
the
Buff-coats
lent
.
Deform'd
,
ungainly
,
awkward
,
sideling
Sholes
,
Testaceous
Tenants
of
the
slimy
Holes
,
Waving
four
slender
Feet
on
either
side
,
With
jetty
Claws
and
rocky
Shoulders
wide
:
Their
Backs
in
form
of
Snushbox-covers
made
,
And
on
their
Chests
Ebony
Eyes
inlaid
,
Hight
Crabs
,
whose
worse
than
Cornish
Gripes
alarm
The
Mice
,
and
bite
away
Leg
,
Tail
,
and
Arm.
Soon
cool'd
this
grisly
Pest
their
active
Heat
,
And
in
Disorder
forc'd
'em
to
retreat
.
Thus
that
Campaign
which
with
the
Day
begun
,
Clos'd
at
the
late
Immersion
of
the
Sun.
Advertisement
.
SIx
Philosophical
Essays
upon
several
Subjects
,
viz.
Concerning
1.
Dr.
Burnet's
Theory
of
the
Earth
.
2.
Wit
and
Beauty
.
3.
A
Publick
Spirit
.
4.
The
We●ther
.
5.
The
Certainty
of
Things
,
and
the
Existence
of
a
Deity
.
6.
The
Cartesian
Idea
of
God.
By
Samuel
Parker
,
Gent.
of
Trinity-College
in
Oxford
.
Printed
for
Tho.
Newborough
,
at
the
Golden
Ball
in
St.
Paul's
Church-yard
.
Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
Notes for div A56392-e590
*
Printed
also
in
a
small
Character
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.
*
I
desire
these
Appellations
may
not
seem
to
affect
the
Parties
concern'd
any
otherwise
than
as
to
their
Character
of
Criticks
.