FABLE [44] XLIV. The Hound and the Huntsman.

FABLE [44] XLIV.

The Hound and the Huntsman.

IMpertinence at first is born With heedless slight, or smiles of scorn; Teaz'd into wrath, what patience bears The noisy fool who perseveres?

The morning wakes, the huntsman sounds, At once rush forth the joyful hounds; They seek the wood with eager pace, Through bush, through brier explore the chase; Now scatter'd wide they try the plain, And snuff the dewy turf in vain. What care, what industry, what pains! What universal silence reigns!

Ringwood, a dog of little fame, Young, pert, and ignorant of game, At once displays his babbling throat; The pack, regardless of the note, Pursue the scent; with louder strain He still persists to vex the train.

The Huntsman to the clamour flies, The smacking lash he smartly plies; His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone The puppy thus exprest his moan.

I know the musick of my tongue Long since the pack with envy stung; What will not spite? These bitter smarts I owe to my superior parts.

When puppies prate, the Huntsman cry'd, They show both ignorance and pride, Fools may our scorn, not envy raise, For envy is a kind of praise. Had not thy forward noisy tongue Proclaim'd thee always in the wrong, Thou might'st have mingled with the rest, And ne'er thy foolish nose confest; But fools, to talking ever prone, Are sure to make their follies known.