Fable XL The Two Monkeys
The scholar, of his learning vain,
Beholds the fop with deep disdain:
The fop, with spirit as discerning,
Looks down upon the man of learning.
The Spanish Don—a solemn strutter—
Despises Gallic airs and flutter:
Whilst the Gaul ridicules the Don,
And John Bull looks with like disdain
On manners both of France and Spain:
They hold, indeed, a deed tripartite
To see each other in a tart light.
’Tis thus the bard is scorned by those
Who only deal in learned prose:
Whilst bards of quick imagination
Are hipped by the dull prose oration.
Men scoff at apes: apes scoff at them;
And all—except themselves—contemn.
Two monkeys visited the fair,
Like critics, with Parnassian sneer;
They forced a way through draggled folk,
Laughed at Jack Pudding and his joke,
Then bought their tickets for the show,
And squatted in the foremost row;
Their cut-of-jib was there so stunning,
It set the idle rabble funning.
“Brother,” one Pug to other said,
“The mob is certainly ill-bred.”
A sentiment which found no favour,
And the retorts were of ill-savour.
The clown with entrance stopped the jar—
Head over heels—with “Here we are!”
The tumblers made their somersets,
The vaulters made tremendous jets;
The dancer on the rope did wonders,
And drew down the applauses—thunders,
As Numa once elicited
From Jove Elicius, so they did.
“Behold the imitative crew!”
Said Pug: “they copy me and you,
And clumsily. I’d like to see
Them jump from forest-tree to tree;
I’d like to see them, on a twig,
Perform a slip-slap or a rig;
And yet it pleasant is to know
The boobies estimate us so.”
“Brother!” the other Pug replied,
“They do their best—with us their guide;
We must allow praise is their due,
Whilst they example good pursue;
But when I see them take a flight,
Or walk, like they walk—bolt upright,
Because we sometimes walk on two—
I hate the imitative crew!”