44 JZSOPS FABLES. Sir,, ftill I am your Debtor ; I tender thus my Houfe and Cattle. The Serpent flies, And Quarter cries, And once more dying quits the Battel. Spawn of th'old Dragon, Worm, ingrateful Wretch, (Then lights a Blow which made his long fides ftretch,) What, doe you cry Peccavi ? Unworthy Soul Think'ft thou a hole Will ftielter like a Worm or Mole And from my fury fave thee > I'll fign your Leafe firft on your fhoulder ; Next take this fowfe, And then my Hou/e ; Now goe, and be a good Free-holder. With what he meant for Fire, a knotty Stake, He warms the Serpent's fides untill they ake, Then on his Breaft he tramples: His purple Head Wax'd pale as Lead His golden Scales with Blood were red; Live now (he (aid) among Examples, While this tough Cudgel lafts I'll bangthce; I to my grief Have fav'd a Theif That would have been the firft to hang me. Moral. ZJngratcful men are Marjhal'd in three Ranls, This not returns, the Second gives no Thanh,?, Evil the lafl for Goodrefaysy and this Of all Hell's Monflers the mofl horrid is. Fab.