On Vulpe

As Ravens 'bout the breathless Carkass flie,
So swarm Vulpe's friends, now he but seems to die:
Each greedy angler hook and line doth lay;
Baited with gifts to catch this Aurata
Which swallows both, escapes, takes all they give,
Thus old get heirs each day, and stil doth live:
Vulpe preys o'th, living, he most Vulter is;
These Harpies hope for prey, but when Vulpe dies,