WHEN THE CAT IS AWAY, THE MICE MAY PLAY. A FABLE,1 INSCRIBED TO DR SWIFT. In domibus Mures avido dente omnia captant: In domibus Fures avida mente omnia raptant. 1 A LADY once (so stories say) With gins and traps long sought to slay 2 Great havoc 'mongst her cheese was made, At length Grimalkin to her aid 3 Soon as Grimalkin came in view, 4 Ne'er cat before such glory won; 5 Pert Mrs Abigail alone Envied Grimalkin's glory; 1 The hints of this and the following fable appear to have originated from the fable of the Old Lady and her Cats, printed in the General Postscript, Nov. 7, 1709. They have been both ascribed to Swift. WHEN THE CAT IS AWAY, THE MICE MAY PLAY. 453 Her favourite lap-dog now was grown 6 She cannot bear, she swears she won't, And vows, that, whatsoe'er comes on 't, 7 She begs, she storms, she fawns, she frets, 8 At length this spiteful waiting-maid The favourite cat's a victim made, 9 Now lap-dog is again restored Sumptuously kept at bed and board, 10 Nab much exults at this success, Her lady fondly does caress, 11 But vain such hopes; the mice that fled Whilst Fubb till ten, on silken bed, And leaves the cheese unguarded. 12 Nor rats nor mice the lap-dog fear, 13 Meanwhile, to cover their deceit, Nab says, the cat comes, out of spite, 14 Nor corn secure in garret high, 15 The gains from corn apace decayed, Complaints came from the dairy-maid, 16 With this same lady once there lived Who, hearing this, full much was grieved, And hastened to her aid. 17 Much art she used for to disclose And find out the deceit; At length she to the lady goes, 18 Struck with the sense of her mistake, THE WIDOW AND HER CAT. A FABLE. 1 1 A WIDOW kept a favourite cat, But, when he was grown sleek and fat, 2 The fox and he were friends of old, 3 He scratched the maid, he stole the cream, 4 The dame full wisely did decree, For fear he should dispatch more, 1 Some ascribe this to Swift. That the false wretch should worried be; Thus speeched it like a Lechmere:1 5 Must I, against all right and law, 6 Your golden pippins, and your pies, "Tis true, the pinner which you prize, 7 'I am a cat of honour.'-Stay!' Quoth she, no longer parley; 8 Of this we'll grant you stand acquit, 9 So flagrant is thy insolence, So vile thy breach of trust is, That longer with thee to dispense, Were want of power, or want of senseHere, Towzer!-do him justice.' 1 The celebrated lawyer. |