_Esop._ And all this thou wou'dst leave to go to Court? I'll tell thee what once happen'd: _A Mouse, who long had liv'd at Court, } (Yet ne'er the better Christian for't) } Walking one Day to see some Country Sport, } He met a home-bred Village-Mouse; Who with an awkward Speech and Bow, } That savour'd much of Cart and Plow, } Made a shift, I know not how, } T' invite him to his House. Quoth he, My Lord, I doubt you'll find Our Country Fare of homely kind; But by my troth, you're welcome to't, Y'ave that, and Bread and Cheese to boot: And so they sat and din'd._ _Rog._ Very well. _Esop._ _The ~Courtier~ cou'd have eat at least As much as any Houshold Priest, But thought himself oblig'd in Feeding, To shew the difference of Town breeding; He pick'd and cull'd, and turn'd the Meat, He champt and chew'd, and cou'd not eat: No toothless Woman at Fourscore, Was ever seen to mumble more. He made a thousand ugly Faces, } Which (as sometimes in Ladies cases) } Were all design'd for Airs and Graces._ } _Rog._ Ha, ha! Esop. _At last he from the Table rose, He pick'd his Teeth and blow'd his Nose, And with an easy Negligence, As tho' he lately came from France, He made a careless sliding Bow: 'Fore Gad, quoth he, I don't know how I shall return your friendly Treat; But if you'll take a bit of Meat In Town with me, You there shall see, How we poor Courtiers eat._ _Rog._ Tit for tat; that was friendly. Esop. _There needed no more Invitation To e'er a Country 'Squire i'th' Nation: Exactly to the time he came, Punctual as Woman when she meets A Man between a pair of Sheets, As good a Stomach, and as little Shame._ _Rog._ Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! Esop. _To say the Truth, he found good Chear, With Wine, instead of Ale and Beer: But just as they sat down to eat, Came bouncing in a hungry Cat._ _Rog._ O Lord, O Lord, O Lord! Esop. _The nimble Courtier skipt from Table, The 'Squire leapt too, as he was able: It can't be said that they were beat, It was no more than a Retreat; Which when an Army, not to fight By Day-light, runs away by Night, Was ever judg'd a great and glorious Feat._ _Rog._ Ever, ever, ever. Esop. _The Cat retir'd, our Guests return, The Danger past becomes their Scorn, They fall to eating as before, The Butler rumbles at the Door._ _Rog._ Good Lord! Esop. _To Boot and Saddle again they sound._ _Rog._ Ta ra, tan tan ta ra, ra ra tan ta ra.