The eagle's masque

If “The Eagle’s Masque” should afford you half the pleasure which I have myself received from “The Peacock at Home,” I will make no further demands upon your approbation.

My Brothers and Sisters in this line of literature are accustomed to distinguish particular passages in their poems by remarks, or explanations at the bottom of the page.—I do not intend, however, to follow their example. What I wish is, that you should first get through all your laughing, without interruption; reserving for you afterwards the useful amusement of picking out further information for yourselves, as you will find it in those books of Natural History, with coloured figures, which your Parents, or Tutors, will have the goodness to lay before you for that purpose.

In the next place, I have great pride, and pleasure, in being able to assure you, that I have not, in a single instance, knowingly set down any circumstance relating, in a general way, to the persons, lives, and manners, of my feathered Characters, which you may not find to be strictly true. If some cases should occur, in which this assertion may puzzle, or surprize you, your kind friends above mentioned will make the proper distinctions for you; and then, you will find every thing as it should be.

And so, recommending my Birds, and myself, to your favour and protection,

I remain your affectionate Friend, and Play-fellow, TOM TIT.

THE EAGLE’S MASQUE.

When “The Butterfly’s Ball,” and the “Grass-hopper’s Feast,” Had resounded abroad from the west to the east, The Peacock, whose bosom is vanity’s station, In a trice was “At Home” to the feather’d Creation.— The trumpet of Fame was more active than ever: The Gala so gay!—the arrangements so clever!— The Genius of Mirth flew in every direction; } The Queen on her ... cliff caught the raging infection, } And joy flourished under the royal protection. } Soon, the Birds, cock-a-hoop at the call of their betters, To Court were invited by circular letters: The Pigeon in waiting flew round, and display’d “_Queen Eagle sends Greeting_—A GRAND MASQUERADE.” Of a grand Masquerade not a notion had they— And Birds are as curious as Ladies, they say. What impatience was felt to be ready and drest! Not a bird, nor a birdling could sleep in her nest. What fighting for Characters!—shifting of plumes! How the RAVEN desponds, and the PEACOCK presumes! At length ’tis arriv’d—the grand, critical Night! And by thousands they throng to the scene of delight. Not a fowl staid at home that had spirits, or wings— Every Biped was there that pecks, flutters, or sings. The Empress received them with affable grace, In an Aviary built at her favourite Place; Though, ’twas notic’d, she coldly accosted the GULL, Who had guarded some sheep from her Majesty’s pull. But here—as incog. was the word—you may ask, How the Queen knew the Gull, notwithstanding his mask? Why, an Eagle looks sharper than I, or than you, Sir, And, without any spectacles, knows who is who, Sir. Each Masquer, in order presented, fell flat. And the CARDINAL lifted his claw to his hat. First compliments over, the Revels are brewing— Assist me, O Proteus! to tell what was doing, While Birds of all feathers, all habits, all sizes, All tongues, and all climates, were met in disguises. First the huge ALBATROSS, with his crony, the PENGUIN, (Like most other sea-faring folk, over sanguine) Had hop’d their identity nicely to veil, By attempting the waddle and cry of the QUAIL. Not to mention the MANAKIN, too—little varlet! Who, because he was born to be crested with scarlet, And wears a blue spencer, so sparkish and glossy,— Not satisfied thus to look handsome and saucy,

The helmet put on of the great CASSOWARY, So fierce!—you’d have back’d him to fight with a Fairy, The BOOBY, by nature a blockhead confest, In the top-knot and train of the PEACOCK was drest; But of all whom the stratagem aim’d to seduce, He could make but two converts—the GULL and the GOOSE. The said Goose, with her distant Relation, GOOSANDER, } (As the husband of each was afraid to command her,) } Wore the breeches ... I mean, wore the garb, of the GANDER. } The COOT, and the CURLEW, the MALLARD, and TEAL, (For once, and for ever, their names to conceal,) To the RAZOR-BILL went with a singular suit— That the webs he would slit of each membranous foot; From a cunning conceit that the length of their toes Would throw dust in the eyes of their natural foes. “The chief reason,” said they, “why the favor we ask ye, Is because, as we hear, little Count Borowlaski Last night, for a Pigmy, was chas’d by a CRANE, But, by standing on tip-toe, escap’d being slain; And it matters but little, since life is so sweet, If we save it by slitting, or stretching, our feet.” The BUZZARD,—a mighty weak kind of a fowl, } Hit on no better method of seeming an OWL, } Than by catching a Mouse, and affecting to howl. } The BUTCHER-BIRD, too, changing battle for love, In the plumes of a PIGEON, made up to a dove: He could manage the billing, though out in the cooing— As well might a Kitten sham Cow ... and be mooing! But his dove in a twinkling escap’d from his view, And return’d, in the crest of a fierce COCKATOO: Whilst ye, tiny TITS!—both the lark, and the _mouse_— Drest your legs up in feathers, and call’d yourselves GROUSE. But it would surely have forc’d an old hermit to laugh, Had he seen the gay FINCHES,—_gold_, green, bull, and chaff, By vanity blinded, and panting for praise, As SWANS, or as TURKEYCOCKS, dancing the hays! Conceive, too—but I can’t conceive it if you can, Little WREN bending under the beak of the TOUCAN! While the Toucan himself, though an hundred times bigger, Votes his own bill a bore,—as you’ll easily figure. Not a bird of the air can you bring me whose belly Can half as much hold as the pouch of the PELI- CAN:—yet in despite of his size and his maw, (’Twas in vain to object) he would come as a DAW! And what shall we think of the NIGHTINGALE’S folly, } Who, no longer “most musical, most melancholy,” } A green Domino wore, and kept screaming “poor Polly!” } Whilst POLL was like other pragmatical Youngsters, Who, because they are talkers, must set up for songsters.

But look, if you love me, at Signor FLAMINGO, Who, in spite of his person and outlandish lingo, His spindles close up to his body is buckling, To fit on in their stead the squab legs of a DUCKLING! He came from the banks of the fam’d Oroonoko, } But in mix’d conversation, was dull as the CUCKOO, } For, say just what you would, he still answer’d “tocoko!” } But the BARNACLE best play’d his part at our Masque; “The Barnacle!—how?”—Yes, I thought you would ask: Why, he look’d like himself, to be sure, but, to boot, } Might be taken for GANDER, DRAKE, PUFFIN, or COOT;— } So he spar’d the expence of a Masquerade suit.— } If any one there could be odder than that, ’Twas that leathery, feathery mongrel, the BAT, Who, when told that no ticket admitted a Mouse,— Took huff as a bird, and flew out of the house. The Flying-fish, too, shall come in for his share, } Who in haste from the ocean contriv’d to be there, } Just to make the Bird-fanciers puzzle and stare. } But see from the mountains of Scotland, the OUSEL— Our motley community bent to bamboozle— Doff his crest, and look sharp, in the bill of a SNIPE, Though to mimick the whistle’s too much for his pipe. Next, the PTARMIGAN plenty of ridicule draws; For, though booted with feathers quite down to his claws, Yet, neglecting to shave them,—neglecting to gather, In support of his part, one appropriate feather, The lubberly Simpleton hopes he may pass For the delicate LAPWING!—see “Lap-dog and Ass!” Then the WATER-HEN—born (though you smile at the thing) With two spiders for claws, and a spur at each wing, Now, shifting her spurs from her wings to her toes, } With a comb in her head, and cock-feathers for clothes, } Takes her oath she is game, and e’en fancy she crows! } “But of all the brave birds that I ever did see,” Give me, for my money, the RUFF, and the REE! For because they wear epaulettes, quarrel and fight, Each brisk little soldier behold Serjeant KITE!— But the queerest exchange in the whole Masquerade, Was that by the WOODCOCK and BOTTLENOSE made: Perhaps you may think ’twas of claws or of quills;— Not a whit, Sir,—no less than a barter of bills! Though the diff’rence betwixt ’em, in my way of judging, Was the same that we see ’twixt a bodkin and bludgeon. But to all that love laughing I hasten to shew A Lilliput Lady, and Brobdignag Beau. Since the day you were born, little friends did you ever See an OSTRICH gallanting a HUMMING-BIRD?—“Never.” Then, open your eyes, and I’ll show a sight:— } Do but mark her unsuitable Sweet-heart’s delight, } While she daintily murmurs and sings round her Knight, }

Now, nestling amongst the thick plumes of his tail, Now perch’d on his beak—like a sprat on a whale! While with monstrous endearment, and dalliance uncouth, Each caress is repaid by her camel-like Youth. The ungainly Philander, with tender advance, Is now breaking his muscular shanks to a dance; Now, veering and steering with cumbersome grace, The quick-steps of his minikin Mistress to trace, In vain her huge Romeo would bend, at her beck, The languishing cable he rears as a neck! That Cupid is blind we have evidence ample, But sure never a rule had so rich an example!— That this cooing Colossus ... this two-legged Tree ... Should succeed with a bird you would take for a Bee!— But enough—for my memory sadly it poses, To follow them thus through their Metempsychoses; You may guess at the rest—but ’twill yield us some fun to Observe in that corner a notable Junto, Who had met by agreement to quizz, and to hoax, As they came within view, the transmogrified folks;— Though the BISHOP, the POPE, and the CARDINAL, duly Loud censures pronounc’d, when their tongues grew unruly, “And pray what were the names of this merciless Quorum, So bitter that none stood in safety before ’em?”— The PARROT, the MAGPIE, JAY, CHATTERER, and DAW, With a few other babillards more than I saw, That musty old crusty old Tabby the OWL, Like a Judge in his wig, or a Monk in his cowl, Sat muzzing behind, half apart from the rest, } By the glitter, and bustle, and babble distrest; } Sorely wishing ’twere time to slink home to her nest. } Her poll in her shoulders, her hooting-pipe mute, With a bird in her beak, and a mouse in each foot, Half listening, half dozing—now scolding, now tickled, While in vinegar sauce reputations were pickled, Her eye-lids, where Dulness look’d wise in a frown } Now stretch’d in a goggle—now gravely let down, } She dreams in a study far muddier than brown.— } But ’tis time to rejoin the satirical party, And learn, if we can, why they’re laughing so hearty; Though so many the talkers—the list’ners so few, That ’tis well if we bring away one word in two. The sign for unmasking had now taken place, And each guest was betray’d by his feathers, or face. Our venomous Critics now sharpen’d their looks, And whatever was curious went down in their books. First, the fine BIRD OF PARADISE—every one knew it, By its train thrice as long as the body that drew it. Here Envy herself could do nothing but praise— To the keen disappointment of Parrots, and Jays. Yet they peck’d at the PEACOCK:—“See how he assumes! } With his tail all astrut as he swims round the rooms!— } One would swear that his croup had been nick’d by the grooms.” } (Jay.) “That impudent GOOSE!—one may well understand her— How close would I coop her, if I were the Gander!”— (Magpie.) “Hark!—can that be a bird?—it more bellows than sings— Or a bull seeing masks, under favour of wings?”— (Daw.) “’Tis a BITTERN; they say he’s a Heron by race; But sure never bird had a warble so bass! Perhaps he is come from Cape Horn, he is fagg’d, And is roaring for hunger.” (Chatterer.) “I wish he were gagg’d!— But see, here’s another—_this_ comes from Brazil;— What a figure!—let’s kill it, and stuff it.”—“We will.” “His back’s like the mantle that covers a Judge, His breast like a Pigeon’s, so burly and budge, And his bill!—not a spit but is shorter, I vow:— What a prize to a farmer for making his mow!”— (Daw.) “Nay, if bills are your taste, look behind you I pray ... O! My nest against yours that yon bird’s the CALAO. A bill!—no, a scythe, with its grindstone annex’d With edges and saws of all colours perplex’d. Whate’er be its use in the business of food, ’Tis a rare apparatus for drawing of blood!” (Parrot.) “Look at yon pert AVOSET—tall as a steeple! How she turns up her saucy long nose at the people! Then that filthified fish-eating gawky, the AUK, That stands up like an Orator going to talk— Yet it matters not much how she stands on her legs,— } But if I were a man, and lov’d spoon-meat—i’fegs; } I’d look twice ere I ventur’d to bob for her eggs; } For, my dear, where d’ye think she deposits her stock? Why, each stuck by itself on its needle of rock!” (Daw.) “Do look at the CRANE BALEARIC—what paces!— Did Vestris or Parisot teach her the graces? See the slip-shoulder’d thing, how she pokes as she goes, With her back in the air, and her Bill at her toes!— But what Fright have we here?” “’Tis a BARBET, I’ve heard,” (Magpie,) “Then I’m glad I’m no Barbet:—a beak with a beard!”— (Jay.) “That’s the BEE-EATER, is it not?” “So they report.” (Magpie) “Well!—his back’s long enough, if his legs are too short: