The Animals Sending Tribute to Alexander

A fable flourished with antiquity / Whose meaning I could never clearly see. / Kind reader, draw the moral if you're able: / I give you here the naked fable. / Fame having bruited that a great commander, / A son of Jove, a certain Alexander, / Resolved to leave nought free on this our ball, / Had to his footstool gravely summon'd all / Men, quadrupeds, and nullipeds, together / With all the bird-republics, every feather, -- / The goddess of the hundred mouths, I say, / Thus having spread dismay, / By widely publishing abroad / This mandate of the demigod, / The animals, and all that do obey / Their appetite alone, mistrusted now / That to another sceptre they must bow. / Far in the desert met their various races, / All gathering from their hiding-places. / Discuss'd was many a notion. / At last, it was resolved, on motion, / To pacify the conquering banner, / By sending homage in, and tribute. / With both the homage and its manner / They charged the monkey, as a glib brute; / And, lest the chap should too much chatter, / In black on white they wrote the matter. / Nought but the tribute served to fash, / As that must needs be paid in cash. / A prince, who chanced a mine to own, / At last, obliged them with a loan. / The mule and ass, to bear the treasure, / Their service tender'd, full of pleasure; / And then the caravan was none the worse, / Assisted by the camel and the horse. / Forthwith proceeded all the four / Behind the new ambassador, / And saw, erelong, within a narrow place, / Monseigneur Lion's quite unwelcome face. / 'Well met, and all in time,' said he; / 'Myself your fellow traveller will be. / I wend my tribute by itself to bear; / And though 'tis light, I well might spare / The unaccustom'd load. / Take each a quarter, if you please, / And I will guard you on the road; / More free and at my ease -- / In better plight, you understand, / To fight with any robber band. ' / A lion to refuse, the fact is, / Is not a very usual practice: / So in he comes, for better and for worse; / Whatever he demands is done, / And, spite of Jove's heroic son, / He fattens freely from the public purse. / While wending on their way, / They found a spot one day, / With waters hemm'd, of crystal sheen; / Its carpet, flower-besprinkled green; / Where pastured at their ease / Both flocks of sheep and dainty heifers, / And play'd the cooling breeze -- / The native land of all the zephyrs. / No sooner is the lion there / Than of some sickness he complains. / Says he, 'You on your mission fare. / A fever, with its thirst and pains, / Dries up my blood, and bakes my brains; / And I must search some herb, / Its fatal power to curb. / For you, there is no time to waste; / Pay me my money, and make haste. ' / The treasures were unbound, / And placed upon the ground. / Then, with a look which testified / His royal joy, the lion cried, / 'My coins, good heavens, have multiplied! / And see the young ones of the gold / As big already as the old! / The increase belongs to me, no doubt; ' / And eagerly he took it out! / 'Twas little staid beneath the lid; / The wonder was that any did. / Confounded were the monkey and his suite. / And, dumb with fear, betook them to their way, / And bore complaint to Jove's great son, they say -- / Complaint without a reason meet; / For what could he? Though a celestial scion, / He could but fight, as lion versus lion.

When corsairs battle, Turk with Turk, / They're not about their proper work.[1]