Like you, they take that dreadful form,
  Bask in the sun, and fly the storm;
  With malice hiss, with envy gloat,
  And for convenience change their coat;
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  With new-got lustre rear their head,
  Though on a dunghill born and bred.’ 
     Sudden the god a lion stands;
  He shakes his mane, he spurns the sands;
  Now a fierce lynx, with fiery glare,
  A wolf, an ass, a fox, a bear. 
     ‘Had I ne’er lived at Court,’ he cries,
  ’Such transformation might surprise;
  But there, in quest of daily game,
  Each able courtier acts the same.
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  Wolves, lions, lynxes, while in place,
  Their friends and fellows are their chase. 
  They play the bear’s and fox’s part;
  Now rob by force, now steal with art. 
  They sometimes in the senate bray;
  Or, changed again to beasts of prey,
  Down from the lion to the ape,
  Practise the frauds of every shape.’ 
     So said, upon the god he flies,
  In cords the struggling captive ties.
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     ’Now, Proteus, now, (to truth compelled)
  Speak, and confess thy art excelled. 
  Use strength, surprise, or what you will,
  The courtier finds evasions still: 
  Not to be bound by any ties,
  And never forced to leave his lies.’

* * * * *

FABLE XXXIV.

THE MASTIFFS.

  Those who in quarrels interpose,
  Must often wipe a bloody nose. 
     A mastiff, of true English blood,
  Loved fighting better than his food. 
  When dogs were snarling for a bone,
  He longed to make the war his own,
  And often found (when two contend)
  To interpose obtained his end;
  He gloried in his limping pace;
  The scars of honour seamed his face;
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  In every limb a gash appears,
  And frequent fights retrenched his ears. 
     As, on a time, he heard from far
  Two dogs engaged in noisy war,
  Away he scours and lays about him,
  Resolved no fray should be without him. 
     Forth from his yard a tanner flies,
  And to the bold intruder cries: 
     ’A cudgel shall correct your manners,
  Whence sprung this cursed hate to tanners?
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  While on my dog you vent your spite,
  Sirrah! ‘tis me you dare not bite.’ 
  To see the battle thus perplexed,
  With equal rage a butcher vexed,
  Hoarse-screaming from the circled crowd,
  To the cursed mastiff cries aloud: 
     ’Both Hockley-hole and Mary-bone
  The combats of my dog have known. 
  He ne’er, like bullies coward-hearted,
  Attacks in public, to be parted.
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  Think not, rash fool, to share his fame: 
  Be his the honour, or the shame.’ 
     Thus said, they swore, and raved like thunder;
  Then dragged their fastened dogs asunder;
  While clubs and kicks from every side