Page:Homer in a Nutshell, or, His War Between the Frogs and the Mice - Parker (1700).djvu/11

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Soho! My Friend in venerable Fur!
What are you, say, and whence, Platonick Sir?
Fictions and Quibbles will disgrace your Coat:
But if you hold in one consistent Note,
You're welcome to the Monarch of this Ditch,
A Monarch, tho' I say't, renown'd and rich,
By King Crocracro, when his Love was hot,
Upon the Body of Queen Skip begot.
And not to flatter, in that Sylvan Face
Methinks I read a brave Majestick Grace,
If my nice Opticks grosly don't deceive,
Or Laws of Phis'nomy we may believe.
———My Life on't, bred to War, and nobly steel'd,
Thy Looks, my Lad, proclaim thee of the Field.

To him Illustrious Nibble: For your Sense,
I say no more; but your Intelligence
Imperfect is, or none; else at first view
You must have seen both whence I am and who.
From Pypick and Queen Curdylip I spring,
Great Snapcrust's Daughter, and my self a King.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$My Royal Mother, Sir, was brought a' Bed
In Grange magnificent, and there she bred
Her Child so well, ne'er Mousling better fed.
Figs, mellow Figs my Breakfast ev'ry Morn,
At Noon Plum-pudding, and at Night young Corn.
So far'd long since the plain Pypickian Court,
But now we Diet in a daintier sort.

Then