In Arles though the Sun exalted stood,
His Patron-Planet to procure his good; 680
Yet Saturn was his mortal Foe, and he
In Libra rais'd, oppos'd the same Degree:
The Rays both good and bad, of equal Pow'r,
Each thwarting other, made a mingled Hour.
On Friday-morn he dreamt this direful
Dream,

Cross to the worthy Native, in his Scheme ! Ah blissful Venus, Goddess of Delight, How cou'dst thou suffer thy devoted Knight, On thy own Day, to fall by Foe oppress'd, The wight of all the World who serv'd thee best? 690

Who true to Love, was all for Recreation, And minded not the Work of Propagation. Gaufride, who could'st so well in Rhime complain

The Death of Richard with an Arrow slain, Why had not I thy Muse, or thou my Heart, To sing this heavy Dirge with equal Art! That I like thee on Friday might complain; For on that Day was Ceur de Lion slain.

Not louder Cries, when Ilium was in Flames,

Were sent to Heav'n by woful Trojan Dames, 700

When Pyrrhus toss'd on high his burnish'd Blade,

And offer'd Priam to his Father's Shade, Than for the Cock the widow'd Poultry made.

Fair Partlet first, when he was born from sight,

With soveraign Shrieks bewail'd her Captive Knight:

Far lowder than the Carthaginian Wife, When Asdrubal her Husband lost his Life, When she beheld the smouldring Flames ascend,

And all the Punick Glories at an end: Willing into the Fires she plung'd her Head, With greater Ease than others seek their Bed.

711

Not more aghast the Matrons of Renown, When Tyrant Nero burn'd th' Imperial Town,

Shriek'd for the downfal in a doleful Cry, For which their guiltless Lords were doom'd to die.

Now to my Story I return again : The trembling Widow, and her Daughters twain,

This woful cackling Cry with Horror heard,
Of those distracted Damsels in the Yard;
And starting up, beheld the heavy Sight, 720
How Reynard to the Forest took his Flight,
And cross his Back, as in triumphant Scorn,
The Hope and Pillar of the House was born.
The Fox, the wicked Fox, was all the Cry,
Out from his House ran ev'ry Neighbour
nigh:

The Vicar first, and after him the Crew,
With Forks and Staves the Fellon to pursue.
Ran Coll our Dog, and Talbot with the Band,
And Malkin, with her Distaff in her Hand:
Ran Cow and Calf, and Family of Hogs, 730
In Panique Horror of pursuing Dogs ;
With many a deadly Grunt and doleful
Squeak

Poor Swine, as if their pretty Hearts would break.

The Shouts of Men, the Women in dismay, With Shrieks augment the Terror of the Day.

The Ducks, that heard the Proclamation cry'd,

And fear'd a Persecution might betide,
Full twenty Mile from Town their Voyage
take,

Obscure in Rushes of the liquid Lake.
The Geese fly o'er the Barn; the Bees in
Arms,

740

Drive headlong from their Waxen Cells in Swarms.

Jack Straw at London-stone with all his Rout Struck not the City with so loud a Shout; Not when with English Hate they did pursue A French Man, or an unbelieving Jew: Not when the Welkin rung with one and all;

And Echoes bounded back from Fox's Hall; Earth seem'd to sink beneath, and Heav'n

Yet in this Agony his Fancy wrought,
And Fear supply'd him with this happy
Thought:

Yours is the Prize, victorious Prince, said he,
The Vicar my defeat, and all the Village

see,

760 Enjoy your friendly Fortune while you may, And bid the Churls that envy you the Prey, Call back their mungril Curs, and cease their Cry,

See, Fools, the shelter of the Wood is nigh, And Chanticleer in your despight shall die.) He shall be pluck'd and eaten to the Bone.

'Tis well advis'd, in Faith it shall be done; This Reynard said: but as the Word he spoke,

The Pris'ner with a Spring from Prison broke:

Then stretch'd his feather'd Fans with all his might, 770

And to the neighb'ring Maple wing'd his flight.

Whom when the Traytor safe on Tree beheld,

He curs'd the Gods, with Shame and Sorrow fill'd;

Shame for his Folly; Sorrow out of time,
For Plotting an unprofitable Crime :
Yet mast'ring both, th' Artificer of Lies
Renews th' Assault, and his last Batt'ry
tries.

Though I, said he, did ne'er in Thought offend,

How justly may my Lord suspect his Friend!

Th' appearance is against me, I confess, 780 Who seemingly have put you in Distress :

You, if your Goodness does not plead my

Cause,

May think I broke all hospitable Laws,
To bear you from your Palace-yard by
Might,

And put your noble Person in a Fright:
This, since you take it ill, I must repent,
Though Heav'n can witness with no bad

intent

I practis'd it, to make you taste your Cheer, With double Pleasure, first prepared by fear.

So loyal Subjects often seize their Prince,

790 Forc'd (for his Good) to seeming Violence, Yet mean his sacred Person not the least Offence.

Descend; so help me Jove as you shall find
That Reynard comes of no dissembling Kind.
Nay, quoth the Cock; but I beshrew us
both,

If I believe a Saint upon his Oath :
An honest Man may take a Knave's Advice,
But Idiots only will be couzen'd_twice:
Once warn'd is well bewar'd: No flattering
lies

Shall sooth me more to sing with winking
Eyes,

800

And open Mouth, for fear of catching Flies. Who Blindfold walks upon a Rivers brim, When he should see, has he deserv'd to swim?

Better, Sir Cock, let all Contention cease, Come down, said Reynard, let us treat of Peace.

A Peace with all my Soul, said Chanticleer; But, with your Favour, I will treat it here: And least the Truce with Treason should be mixt,

'Tis my concern to have the Tree betwixt.

run:

And whirling up the Skies, his Chariot drove Through Taurus, and the lightsome Realms of Love,

Where Venus from her Orb descends in Show'rs

To glad the Ground, and paint the Fields with Flow'rs:

When first the tender Blades of Grass

30

Wandring I walk'd alone, for still methought To some strange End so strange a Path was wrought:

At last it led me where an Arbour stood, 60
The sacred Receptacle of the Wood:
This Place unmark'd though oft I walk'd
the Green,

In all my Progress I had never seen:
And seiz'd at once with Wonder and
Delight,

Gaz'd all arround me, new to the transporting Sight.

'Twas bench'd with Turf, and, goodly to be seen,

The thick young Grass arose in fresher Green :

The Mound was newly made, no Sight cou'd pass

Betwixt the nice Partitions of the Grass; The well-united Sods so closely lay; 70 And all arround the Shades defended it from Day.

For Sycamours with Eglantine were spread, A Hedge about the Sides, a Covering over Head.

And so the fragrant Brier was wove between, The Sycamour and Flow'rs were mix'd with Green,

That Nature seem'd to vary the Delight; And satisfy'd at once the Smell and Sight. The Master Work-man of the Bow'r was known

Through Fairy-Lands, and built for Oberon; Who twining Leaves with such Proportion drew,

They rose by Measure, and by Rule they

grew;

No Mortal Tongue can half the Beauty_tell, For none but Hands divine could work so well.

Both Roof and Sides were like a Parlour made,

A soft Recess, and a cool Summer Shade; The Hedge was set so thick, no Foreign Eye

The Persons plac'd within it could espy; But all that pass'd without with Ease was

seen,

As if nor Fence nor Tree was plac'd between. 'Twas border d with a Field; and some was plain ༡༠ With Grass; and some was sow'd with rising Grain.

Her short Performance was no sooner try'd,

When she I sought, the Nightingale reply'd : So sweet, so shrill, so variously she sung, That the grove eccho'd, and the Valleys

If anywhere by chance I might espy
The rural Poet of the Melody:

For still methought she sung not far away;
At last I found her on a Lawrel Spray,
Close by my Side she sate, and fair in Sight,
Full in a Line, against her opposite;
Where stood with Eglantine the Lawrel
twin'd:
130
And both their native Sweets were well con-
join'd.

On the green Bank I sat, and listen'd long; (Sitting was more convenient for the Song !) Nor till her Lay was ended could I move, But wish'd to dwell for ever in the Grove. Only methought the time too swiftly pass'd, And ev'ry Note I fear'd would be the last. My Sight, and Smell, and Hearing were employ'd,

And all three Senses in full Gust enjoy'd.
And what alone did all the rest surpass, 140
The sweet Possession of the Fairy Place;
Single, and conscious to my Self alone
Of Pleasures to th' excluded World unknown.
Pleasures which nowhere else, were to be
found,

And all Elysium in a spot of Ground.

Thus while I sat intent to see and hear, And drew Perfumes of more than vital Air, A suddenly I heard th' approaching sound Of vocal Musick, on th' enchanted Ground: An Host of Saints it seem'd, so full the) Quire; 150

As if the Bless'd above did all conspire,
To join their Voices, and neglect the Lyre.)
At length there issu'd from the Grove

behind

Her Measures kept, and Step by Step pursu'd.

Methought she trod the Ground with greater Grace,

With more of Godhead shining in her Face;
And as in Beauty she surpass'd the Quire,
So, nobler than the rest, was her Attire.
A crown of ruddy Gold inclos'd her Brow,
Plain without Pomp, and Rich without
a Show:

A Branch of Agnus castus in her Hand
She bore aloft (her Scepter of Command ;)
Admir'd, ador'd by all the circling Crowd,
For wheresoe'er she turn'd her Face, they
bow'd:

191

And as she danc'd, a Roundelay she sung,
In honour of the Lawrel, ever young:
She rais'd her Voice on high, and sung
so clear,

The Fawns came scudding from the Groves

to hear:

And all the bending Forest lent an Ear.
At ev'ry Close she made, th' attending
Throng

Reply'd, and bore the Burden of the
Song: