1The lion—that of late so domineered,
2And of his subjects was not loved but feared—
3Being cloyed with luxury, is sick at last;
4Then Doctor Fox
is sent for all in haste. 5He shakes the glass
, and’s
head, then feels his pulse, 6And straight prescribes a medicine revulse
. 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 mind
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 distill
.” 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,
26Eating their mummy
with the blood of pages
.” 27To an old tyrant melancholy
grown, 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.