The Plague among the Beasts.

One time a mighty Plague did pester All Beasts Domestick and Sylvester, They try'd a world of Remedies; But none that conquer'd the Disease: And, as in the Calamity All did not dye, so none were free. The Lyon in this Consternation Sends by his Royal Proclamation To all his loving Subjects greeting, And summons 'em t' a general Meeting; And when they're come about his Den, He says, my Lords and Gentlemen, I believe you're met full of the Sence Of this consuming Pestilence; Sure such extraordinary Punishment On common Crimes was never sent; Therefore it took its derivation, Not from the trivial Sence of the Nation; But some notorious Wickedness; } Then let us search our Consciences, } And ev'ry one his Faults confess. } We'll judge the biggest and the least, And he that is the wicked'st Beast Shall as a Sacrifice be giv'n, T'allay the wrath of angry Heav'n, And serve our Sins an expiation By ancient way of Immolation; And, since no one is free from Sin, Thus with my own I'll first begin. I've kill'd an Ox, and which is worse, Committed Murder on a Horse; And one Day, as I am a Sinner, I have eat seven Pigs for Dinner, Robb'd Woods, and Fens, and like a Glutton, Fed on whole Flocks of Lamb and Mutton: Nay sometimes, for 'tis in vain to lie, The Shepherd went for Company. This was his Speech; when Chanc'lor Fox Cries out, what signifies an Ox, Or Horse? Sure those unworthy things Are honour'd, when made sport for Kings. But, Sir, your Conscience is too nice, Hunting's a Princely Exercise: As for the Sheep, that foolish Cattle, Not fit for Carriage nor for Battle, And being tolerable Meat, Are good for nothing, but to eat. The shepherd your sworn Enemy Deserv'd no better Destiny. Thus was he, that had sin'd for Twenty, Clear'd Nemine Contradicente. The Bear, the Tyger, Beasts that fight, And all that could but scratch or bite Came off well; for their gross Abuses Others as bad found Excuses. Nay even the Cat of wicked Nature That kills at play his Fellow Creature Went scot free: But his Gravity An Ass of stupid Memory Confess'd, that, going to Sturbridge-Fair His Back most broke with Wooden-ware, He chanc'd half starv'd, and faint, to pass By a Church-yard with exc'lent Grass, They had forgot to shut the Gate, He ventur'd in, stoop'd down and ate. Hold, cries Judge Wolf, no more, for Crimes As these, deserve such fatal Times. By several Acts of Parliament 'Tis Sacriledge, they all consent; And thus the silly virtuous Ass Was Sacrifis'd for eating Grass.

The Moral. The Fable shews you poor Folk's fate Whilst Laws can never reach the Great.