Say what he will, we'll work for no Man. Nay if we scratch him tho' he itches, Calls us a hundred Sons of Bitches. And, if you do the same, you'll see, } He'll quickly be as lean as we; } What say ye, Brothers, do y' agree? } Yes, says the Feet, and he be curst, That dares to think of stirring first. And thus the Rebels disobey; Who swear they'll now keep Holy-day, Resolv'd to live like Gentlemen. His Gutship calls and calls again, They answer'd they would toil no more; But rest as he had done before: But soon the Mutineers repent; } The Belly when his Stock was spent, } Could not send down the Nourishment, } That's requisite for every part; The weakness seiz'd the drooping Heart: Till all the Members suffer'd by't, And languished in a woeful plight: They saw, when 'twas too late, how he, Whom they accused of Gluttony, Of Laziness, Ingratitude, } Had labour d for the common Good, } By ways they never understood. } The Moral. _The Belly is the Government, From whence the Nourishment is sent, Of wholesome Laws for mutual Peace, For Plenty, Liberty, and Ease, To all the Body Politick, Which where it fails the Nation's sick. The Members are the discontent_ Pleibeians; _that are ignorant, How necessary for the State It is, that Princes should be great: Which, if their Pomp and Pow'r were less, Could not preserve our Happiness. The Vulgar think all Courts to be But Seats of Sloth and Luxury; Themselves, but Slaves compell'd to bear The Taxes, and the Toils of War; But in this Fable they may see The dismal Fruits of Mutiny; Whilst Subjects, that assist the Crown, But labour to maintain their own._ _The Countryman and the Knight._