1The lion—that of late so domineered,
2And of his subjects was not loved but feared—
3Being cloyed with luxury, is sick at last;
Doctor Fox is sent for all in haste.
shakes the glass,
and’s head, then feels his pulse,
6And straight prescribes a
7The lion trembles! Every vein did beat;
8The doctor, sighing, said, “The danger’s great.”
9The lion pants—could hardly draw his breath;
10None like a tyrant is so ’fraid of death!
11The doctor, that did
nought but his gain,
12Said, “Sir, I pray, sir: whereabout’s your pain?”
13His Highness said, “Sometimes I’m very chill;
14Then burn; then sweat doth down my face
15“The symptom’s good,” the doctor, smiling, said:
16“Your Highness shall do well; be not afraid!
17There is a sort of people ’bout your court—
18They call them apes—that oft have
made you sport.
19Their blood is
sovereign for your disease
21You know the royal eagle finds it good;
22In his old age, he
lives by sucking blood.
23Nay, if you’re
loath, great kings have done the same,
24For which they live still in the book of fame:
25For fatting of their nobles up in cages,
mummy with the blood of
27To an old tyrant
28No music pleaseth but the dying groan
29Of innocents. Then straight the apes were killed;
30The lion eased; the doctor’s purse was filled.
31From such a tyrant, Heaven deliver me!
32And such a doctor, let me never see.