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´╗┐Title: Hudibras, in Three Parts, Written in the Time of the Late Wars
Author: Butler, Samuel
Language: English
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Transcriber's Notes:

Credits: This e-text was scanned, proofed and edited with a
glossary and translations from the Latin by Donal O' Danachair.
(kodak_seaside@hotmail.com). The text is that of an edition
published in London, 1805. This e-text is hereby placed in the
public domain.

Spelling and punctuation: These are the same as in the book as
far as possible. The AE and OE digraphs have been transcribed
as two letters. Greek words have been transliterated.

Notes: The notes are identified by letters in the text, thus: .
In a few cases the note has no text reference: these are indicated <>.

Layout: the line numbers all end in col. 65. View this e-text in a
monospaced font such as Courier and they will all line up in the
right margin.

Latin: All translations are by the transcriber. In the notes, they
immediately follow the Latin text in [square brackets].
Translations of Latin phrases in the poem are in the glossary.
Disclaimer: these translations are probably very inaccurate - I
am no great Latin scholar.

                           THREE PARTS

                           WRITTEN IN

                    THE TIME OF THE LATE WARS
                     BY SAMUEL BUTLER, ESQ.
                            AN INDEX


Poeta nascitur non fit, [poets are born, not made] is a sentence
of as great truth as antiquity; it being most certain, that all the
acquired learning imaginable is insufficient to compleat a poet,
without a natural genius and propensity to so noble and sublime
an art.   And we may, without offence, observe, that many very
learned men, who have been ambitious to be thought poets,
have only rendered themselves obnoxious to that satyrical
inspiration our Author wittily invokes:

Which made them, though it were in spight
Of nature and their stars, to write.

On the one side some who have had very little human learning,
but were endued with a large share of natural wit and parts,
have become the most celebrated (Shakespear, D'Avenant, &c.)
poets of the age they lived in. But, as these last are, "Rarae aves
in terris," so, when the muses have not disdained the assistances
of other arts and sciences, we are then blessed with those lasting
monuments of wit and learning, which may justly claim a kind
of eternity upon earth. And our author, had his modesty
permitted him, might, with Horace, have said,

Exegi monumentum aere perennius:
[I have raised a memorial more lasting than bronze]

Or, with Ovid,

Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis,
Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetustas.
[For I have raised a work which neither the rage of Jupiter,
Nor fire, nor iron, nor consuming age can destroy.]

The Author of this celebrated Poem was of this his last
composition: for although he had not the happiness of an
academical education, as some affirm, if may be perceived,
throughout his whole Poem, that he had read much, and was
very well accomplished in the most useful parts of human

Rapin (in his reflections) speaking of the necessary qualities
belonging to a poet, tells us, he must have a genius
extraordinary; great natural gifts; a wit just, fruitful, piercing,
solid, and universal; an understanding clear and distinct; an
imagination neat and pleasant; an elevation of soul, that
depends not only on art or study, but is purely the gift of
heaven, which must be sustained by a lively sense and vivacity;
judgment to consider wisely of things, and vivacity for the
beautiful expression of them, &c.

Now, how justly this character is due to our Author, we leave to
the impartial reader, and those of nicer judgment, who had the
happiness to be more intimately acquainted with him.

The reputation of this incomparable Poem is so thoroughly
established in the world, that it would be superfluous, if not
impertinent, to endeavour any panegyric upon it. King Charles
II. whom the judicious part of mankind will readily
acknowledge to be a sovereign judge of wit, was so great an
admirer of it, that he would often pleasantly quote it in his
conversation. However, since most men have a curiosity to have
some account of such anonymous authors, whose compositions
have been eminent for wit or learning, we have, for their
information, subjoined a short Life of the Author.


Samuel Butler, the Author of this excellent Poem, was born in
the Parish of Strensham, in the county of Worcester, and
baptized there the 13th of Feb. 1612. His father, who was of the
same name, was an honest country farmer, who had some small
estate of his own, but rented a much greater of the Lord of the
Manor where he lived. However, perceiving in this son an early
inclination to learning, he made a shift to have him educated in
the free-school at Worcester, under Mr. Henry Bright; where
having passed the usual time, and being become an excellent
school-scholar, he went for some little time to Cambridge, but
was never matriculated into that University, his father's abilities
not being sufficient to be at the charge of an academical
education; so that our Author returned soon into his native
county, and became clerk to one Mr. Jefferys, of Earl's-Croom,
an eminent Justice of the Peace for that County, with whom he
lived some years, in an easy and no contemptible service. Here
by the indulgence of a kind master, he had sufficient leisure to
apply himself to whatever learning his inclinations led him,
which were chiefly history and poetry; to which, for his
diversion, he joined music and painting; and I have seen some
pictures, said to be of his drawing, which remained in that
family; which I mention not for the excellency of them, but to
satisfy the reader of his early inclinations to that noble art; for
which also he was afterwards entirely beloved by Mr. Samuel
Cooper, one of the most eminent painters of his time.

He was after this recommended to that great encourager of
learning, Elizabeth Countess of Kent, where he had not only the
opportunity to consult all manner of learned books, but to
converse also with that living library of learning, the great Mr

Our Author lived some time also with Sir Samuel Luke, who
was of an ancient family in Bedfordshire but, to his dishonour,
an eminent commander under the usurper Oliver Cromwell: and
then it was, as I am informed, he composed this loyal Poem.
For, though fate, more than choice, seems to have placed him in
the service of a Knight so notorious, both in his person and
politics, yet, by the rule of contraries, one may observe
throughout his whole Poem, that he was most orthodox, both in
his religion and loyalty. And I am the more induced to believe
he wrote it about that time, because he had then the opportunity
to converse with those living characters of rebellion, nonsense,
and hypocrisy, which he so livelily and pathetically exposes
throughout the whole work.

After the restoration of King Charles II. those who were at the
helm, minding money more than merit, our Author found that
verse in Juvenal to be exactly verified in himself:

Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat
Res angusta domi:
[They do not easily rise whose virtues are held back by the
straitened circumstances of their home]

And being endued with that innate modesty, which rarely finds
promotion in princes' courts. He became Secretary to Richard
Earl of Carbury, Lord President of the Principality of Wales,
who made him Steward of Ludlow-Castle, when the Court there
was revived. About this time he married one Mrs. Herbert, a
gentlewoman of a very good family, but no widow, as the
Oxford Antiquary has reported; she had a competent fortune,
but it was most of it unfortunately lost, by being put out on ill
securities, so that it was of little advantage to him. He is
reported by the Antiquary to have been Secretary to his Grace
George Duke of Buckingham, when he was Chancellor to the
University of Cambridge; but whether that be true or no, it is
certain, the Duke had a great kindness for him, and was often a
benefactor to him. But no man was a more generous friend to
him, than that Mecaenas of all learned and witty men, Charles
Lord Buckhurst, the late Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, who,
being himself an excellent poet, knew how to set a just value
upon the ingenious performances of others, and has often taken
care privately to relieve and supply the necessities of those,
whose modesty would endeavour to conceal them; of which our
author was a signal instance, as several others have been, who
are now living. In fine the integrity of his life, the acuteness of
his wit, and easiness of his conversation, had rendered him most
acceptable to all men; yet he prudently avoided a multiplicity of
acquaintance, and wisely chose such only whom his discerning
judgment could distinguish (as Mr. Cowley expresseth it)

From the great vulgar or the small.

And having thus lived to a good old age, admired by all, though
personally known to few, he departed this life in the year 1680,
and was buried at the charge of his good friend Mr. Longuevil,
of the Temple, in the yard belonging to the church of St. Paul's
Covent-garden, at the west-end of the said yard, on the north
side, under the wall of the said church, and under that wall
which parts the yard from the common highway. And since he
has no monument yet set up for him, give me leave to borrow
his epitaph from that of Michael Drayton, the poet, as the author
of Mr. Cowley's has partly done before me:

And though no monument can claim
To be the treasurer of thy name;
This work, which ne'er will die, shall be
An everlasting monument to thee.




Sir Hudibras his passing worth,
The manner how he sallied forth;
His arms and equipage are shown;
His horse's virtues, and his own.
Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.

When civil dudgeon  first grew high,
And men fell out they knew not why?
When hard words, jealousies, and fears,
Set folks together by the ears,
And made them fight, like mad or drunk,                         5
For Dame Religion, as for punk;
Whose honesty they all durst swear for,
Though not a man of them knew wherefore:
When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded,                       10
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;
Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling,
And out he rode a colonelling.
A wight he was, whose very sight wou'd                         15
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood;
That never bent his stubborn knee
To any thing but Chivalry;
Nor put up blow, but that which laid
Right worshipful on shoulder-blade;                            20
Chief of domestic knights and errant,
Either for cartel or for warrant;
Great on the bench, great in the saddle,
That  could as well bind o'er, as swaddle;
Mighty he was at both of these,                                25
And styl'd of war, as well as peace.
(So some rats, of amphibious nature,
Are either for the land or water).
But here our authors make a doubt
Whether he were more wise, or stout:                           30
Some hold the one, and some the other;
But howsoe'er they make a pother,
The diff'rence was so small, his brain
Outweigh'd his rage but half a grain;
Which made some take him for a tool                            35
That knaves do work with, call'd a fool,
And offer to lay wagers that
As MONTAIGNE,  playing with his cat,
Complains she thought him but an ass,
Much more she wou'd Sir HUDIBRAS;                              40
(For that's the name our valiant knight
To all his challenges did write).
But they're mistaken very much,
'Tis plain enough he was no such;
We grant, although he had much wit,                            45
H' was very shy of using it;
As being loth to wear it out,
And therefore bore it not about,
Unless on holy-days, or so,
As men their best apparel do.                                  50
Beside, 'tis known he could speak GREEK
As naturally as pigs squeek;
That LATIN was no more difficile,
Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle:
Being rich in both, he never scanted                           55
His bounty unto such as wanted;
But much of either would afford
To many, that had not one word.
For Hebrew roots, although they're found
To flourish most in barren ground,                             60
He had such plenty, as suffic'd
To make some  think him circumcis'd;
And truly so,  he was, perhaps,
Not as a proselyte, but for claps.

He was in LOGIC a great critic,                                65
Profoundly skill'd in  analytic;
He could distinguish, and divide
A hair 'twixt south, and south-west side:
On either which he would dispute,
Confute, change hands, and still confute,                      70
He'd undertake to prove, by force
Of argument, a man's no horse;
He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl,
And that a lord may be an owl,
A calf an alderman, a goose a justice,                         75
And rooks Committee-men and Trustees.
He'd run in debt by disputation,
And pay with ratiocination.
All this by syllogism, true
In mood and figure, he would do.                               80
For RHETORIC, he could not ope
His mouth, but out there flew a trope;
And when he happen'd to break off
I' th' middle of his speech, or cough,
H' had hard words,ready to show why,                           85
And tell what rules he did it by;
Else, when with greatest art he spoke,
You'd think he talk'd like other folk,
For all a rhetorician's rules
Teach nothing but to name his tools.                           90
His ordinary rate of speech
In loftiness of sound was rich;
A Babylonish dialect,
Which learned pedants much affect.
It was a parti-colour'd dress                                  95
Of patch'd and pie-bald languages;
'Twas English cut on Greek and Latin,
Like fustian heretofore on satin;
It had an odd promiscuous tone,
As if h' had talk'd three parts in one;                       100
Which made some think, when he did gabble,
Th' had heard three labourers of Babel;
Or  CERBERUS himself pronounce
A leash of languages at once.
This he as volubly would vent                                 105
As if his stock would ne'er be spent:
And truly, to support that charge,
He had supplies as vast and large;
For he cou'd coin, or counterfeit
New words, with little or no wit:                             110
Words so debas'd and hard, no stone
Was hard enough to touch them on;
And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em,
The ignorant for current took 'em;
That had the  orator, who once                             115
Did fill his mouth with pebble stones
When he harangu'd, but known his phrase
He would have us'd no other ways.
In MATHEMATICKS he was greater
Than  TYCHO BRAHE, or ERRA PATER:                          120
For he, by geometric scale,
Could take the size of pots of ale;
Resolve, by sines and tangents straight,
If bread or butter wanted weight,
And wisely tell what hour o' th' day                          125
The clock does strike by algebra.
Beside, he was a shrewd PHILOSOPHER,
And had read ev'ry text and gloss over;
Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath,
He understood b' implicit faith:                              130
Whatever  sceptic could inquire for,
For ev'ry why he had a wherefore;
Knew more than forty of them do,
As far as words and terms cou'd go.
All which he understood by rote,                              135
And, as occasion serv'd, would quote;
No matter whether right or wrong,
They might be either said or sung.
His notions fitted things so well,
That which was which he could not tell;                       140
But oftentimes mistook th' one
For th' other, as great clerks have done.
He could  reduce all things to acts,
And knew their natures by abstracts;
Where entity and quiddity,                                    145
The ghosts of defunct bodies fly;
Where  truth in person does appear,
Like words  congeal'd in northern air.
He knew what's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly;                                    150
In school-divinity as able
As  he that hight, Irrefragable;
A second 

are wisely mounted higher Than constables in curule wit, When on tribunal bench we sit, Like speculators shou'd foresee, From Pharos of authority, Portended mischiefs farther then Low Proletarian tything-men: 720 And therefore being inform'd by bruit, That dog and bear are to dispute; For so of late men fighting name, Because they often prove the same; (For where the first does hap to be, 725 The last does coincidere;) Quantum in nobis, have thought good, To save th' expence of Christian blood, And try if we, by mediation Of treaty and accommodation, 730 Can end the quarrel and compose The bloody duel without blows. Are not our liberties, our lives, The laws, religion and our wives, Enough at once to lie at stake 735 For Cov'nant and the Cause's sake? But in that quarrel dogs and bears, As well as we must venture theirs This feud, by Jesuits invented, By evil counsel is fomented: 740 There is a MACHIAVILIAN plot, (Tho' ev'ry Nare olfact is not,) A deep design in't, to divide The well-affected that confide, By setting brother against brother, 745 To claw and curry one another. Have we not enemies plus satis, That Cane & Angue pejus hate us? And shall we turn our fangs and claws Upon our own selves, without cause? 750 That some occult design doth lie In bloody cynarctomachy, Is plain enough to him that knows How Saints lead brothers by the nose. I wish myself a pseudo-prophet, 755 But sure some mischief will come of it; Unless by providential wit, Or force, we averruncate it. For what design, what interest, Can beast have to encounter beast? 760 They fight for no espoused cause, Frail privilege, fundamental laws, Not for a thorough reformation, Nor covenant, nor protestation, Nor liberty of consciences, 765 Nor Lords and Commons ordinances; Nor for the church, nor for church-lands, To get them in their own no hands; Nor evil counsellors to bring To justice that seduce the King; 770 Nor for the worship of us men, Though we have done as much for them. Th' AEgyptians worshipp'd dogs, and for Their faith made internecine war. Others ador'd a rat, and some 775 For that church suffer'd martyrdom. The Indians fought for the truth Of th' elephant and monkey's tooth, And many, to defend that faith, Fought it out mordicus to death. 780 But no beast ever was so slight, For man, as for his God, to fight. They have more wit, alas! and know Themselves and us better than so. But we, who only do infuse 785 The rage in them like Boute-feus; 'Tis our example that instils In them th' infection of our ills. For, as some late philosophers. Have well observ'd, beasts, that converse 790 With man, take after him, as hogs Get pigs all the year, and bitches dogs. Just so, by our example, cattle Learn to give one another battle. We read, in NERO's time, the heathen, 795 When they destroy'd the Christian brethren, Did sew them in the skins of bears, And then set dogs about their ears: From thence, no doubt, th' invention came Of this lewd antichristian game. 800 To this, quoth RALPHO, Verily The point seems very plain to me. It is an antichristian game, Unlawful both in thing and name. First, for the name: the word, bear-baiting 805 Is carnal, and of man's creating: For certainly there's no such word In all the scripture on record; Therefore unlawful, and a sin; And so is (secondly) the thing. 810 A vile assembly 'tis, that can No more be prov'd by scripture than Provincial, classic, national; Mere human-creature cobwebs all. Thirdly, it is idolatrous; 815 For when men run a whoring thus With their inventions, whatsoe'er The thing be, whether dog or bear, It is idolatrous and pagan, No less than worshipping of DAGON. 820 Quoth HUDIBRAS, I smell a rat; RALPHO, thou dost prevaricate: For though the thesis which thou lay'st Be true ad amussim, as thou say'st; (For that bear-baiting should appear 825 Jure divino lawfuller Than synods are, thou dost deny, Totidem verbis; so do I;) Yet there's a fallacy in this; For if by sly HOMAEOSIS, 830 Tussis pro crepitu, an art Under a cough to slur a f--t Thou wou'dst sophistically imply, Both are unlawful, I deny. And I (quoth RALPHO) do not doubt 835 But bear-baiting may be made out, In gospel-times, as lawful as is Provincial or parochial classis; And that both are so near of kin, And like in all, as well as sin, 840 That put them in a bag, and shake 'em, Yourself o' th' sudden would mistake 'em, And not know which is which, unless You measure by their wickedness: For 'tis not hard t'imagine whether 845 O' th' two is worst; tho' I name neither. Quoth HUDIBRAS, Thou offer'st much, But art not able to keep touch. Mira de lente, as 'tis i' th' adage, Id est, to make a leek a cabbage; 850 Thou'lt be at best but such a bull, Or shear-swine, all cry, and no wool; For what can synods have at all With bear that's analogical? Or what relation has debating 855 Of church-affairs with bear-baiting? A just comparison still is Of things ejusdem generis; And then what genus rightly doth Include and comprehend them both? 860 If animal both of us may As justly pass for bears as they; For we are animals no less, Altho' of different specieses. But, RALPHO, this is not fit place 865 Nor time to argue out the case: For now the field is not far off, Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words, and such as suit Another manner of dispute; 870 A controversy that affords Actions for arguments, not words; Which we must manage at a rate Of prowess and conduct adequate To what our place and fame doth promise, 875 And all the godly expect from us, Nor shall they be deceiv'd, unless We're slurr'd and outed by success; Success, the mark no mortal wit, Or surest hand can always hit: 880 For whatsoe'er we perpetrate, We do but row, we're steer'd by Fate, Which in success oft disinherits, For spurious causes, noblest merits. Great actions are not always true sons 885 Of great and mighty resolutions; Nor do th' boldest attempts bring forth Events still equal to their worth; But sometimes fail, and, in their stead, Fortune and cowardice succeed. 890 Yet we have no great cause to doubt; Our actions still have borne us out; Which tho' they're known to be so ample, We need not copy from example. We're not the only persons durst 895 Attempt this province, nor the first. In northern clime a val'rous Knight Did whilom kill his bear in fght, And wound a fiddler; we have both Of these the objects of our wroth, 900 And equal fame and glory from Th' attempt of victory to come. 'Tis sung, there is a valiant Mamaluke In foreign land, yclep'd -- To whom we have been oft compar'd 905 For person, parts; address, and beard; Both equally reputed stout, And in the same cause both have fought: He oft in such attempts as these Came off with glory and success; 910 Nor will we fail in th' execution, For want of equal resolution. Honour is like a widow, won With brisk attempt and putting on; With ent'ring manfully, and urging; 915 Not slow approaches, like a virgin. 'Tis said, as yerst the Phrygian Knight, So ours with rusty steel did smite His Trojan horse, and just as much He mended pace upon the touch; 920 But from his empty stomach groan'd Just as that hollow beast did sound, And angry answer'd from behind, With brandish'd tail and blast of wind. So have I seen, with armed heel, 925 A wight bestride a Common-weal; While still the more he kick'd and spurr'd, The less the sullen jade has stirr'd. Notes to Part I, Canto I. 1. When civil a dudgeon, &c.] Dudgeon. Who made the alterations in the last Edition of this poem I know not, but they are certainly sometimes for the worse; and I cannot believe the Author would have changed a word so proper in that place as dudgeon for that of fury, as it is in the last Edition. To take in dudgeon, is inwardly to resent some injury or affront; a sort of grumbling in the gizzard, and what is previous to actual fury. 24 b That could as well, &c.] Bind over to the Sessions as being a Justice of the Peace in his County, as well as Colonel of a Regiment of Foot in the Parliament's army, and a committee-Man. 38 c As MONTAIGNE, &c.] Montaigne, in his Essays, supposes his cat thought him a fool, for losing his time in playing with her. 62 d To make some, &c.] Here again is an alteration without any amendment; for the following lines, And truly, so he was, perhaps, Not as a Proselyte, but for Claps, Are thus changed, And truly so, perhaps, he was; 'Tis many a pious Christian's case. The Heathens had an odd opinion, and have a strange reason why Moses imposed the law of circumcision on the Jews, which, how untrue soever, I will give the learned reader an account of without translation, as I find it in the annotations upon Horace, wrote by my worthy and learned friend Mr. William Baxter, the great restorer of the ancient and promoter of modern learning. Hor. Sat. 9. Sermon. Lib. I. -- Curtis; quia pellicula imminuti sunt; quia Moses Rex Judoeorum, cujus Legibus reguntur, negligentia PHIMOZEIS medicinaliter exsectus est, & ne soles esset notabi omnes circumcidi voluit. Vet. Schol. Vocem. -- (PHIMOZEIS qua inscitia Librarii exciderat reposuimus ex conjectura, uti & medicinaliter exsectus pro medicinalis effectus quae nihil erant.) Quis miretur ejusmodi convicia homini Epicureo atque Pagano excidisse? Jure igitur Henrico Glareano Diaboli Organum videtur. Etiam Satyra Quinta haec habet: Constat omnia miracula certa ratione fieri, de quibus Epicurei prudentissime disputant. [Circumcised: Moses the King of the Jews, by whose laws they are ruled, and whose foreskin overhung (the tip of his penis), had this blockage carelessly medicinally removed, and not wishing to be alone wanted them all to be circumcised. (We have tentatively restored the word BLOCKAGE, which the scribe's incompetence has omitted, and substituted medically removed for carried out by a doctor which was never there.) Who shall wonder that this kind of cutting caused an outcry by Epicureans and Pagans? It can be seen therefore, why Henricus Glareanus judged it an implement of the devil. So the Fifth Satire has it: It is certain that every miracle can be fitted into the philosophical systems which the Epicureans most carefully discuss.] 66 e Profoundly skill'd, &c.] Analytick is a part of logic, that teaches to decline and construe reason, as grammar does words. 93 f A Babylonish, &c.] A confusion of languages, such as some of our modern Virtuosi used to express themselves in. 103 g Or CERBERUS himself, &c.] Cerberus; a name which poets give a dog with three heads, which they feigned door- keeper of Hell, that caressed the unfortunate souls sent thither, and devoured them that would get out again; yet Hercules tied him up, and made him follow. This dog with three heads denotes the past, the present, and the time to come; which receive, and, as it were, devour all things. Hercules got the better of him, which shews that heroic actions are always victorious over time, because they are present in the memory of posterity. 115 h That had the, &c.] Demosthenes, who is said to have had a defect in his pronunciation, which he cured by using to speak with little stones in his mouth. 120 i Than TYCHO BRAHE, &c.] Tycho Brahe was an eminent Danish mathematician. Quer. in Collier's Dictionary, or elsewhere. 131 k Whatever Sceptick, &c.] Sceptick. Pyrrho was the chief of the Sceptick Philosophers, and was at first, as Apollodorus saith, a painter, then became the hearer of Driso, and at last the disciple of Anaxagoras, whom he followed into India, to see the Gymnosophists. He pretended that men did nothing but by custom; there was neither honesty nor dishonesty, justice nor injustice, good nor evil. He was very solitary, lived to be ninety years old, was highly esteemed in his country, and created chief priest. He lived in the time of Epicurus and Theophrastus, about the 120th Olympiad. His followers were called Phyrrhonians; besides which they were named the Ephecticks and Aphoreticks, but more generally Scepticks. This sect made their chiefest good to consist in a sedateness of mind, exempt from all passions; in regulating their opinions, and moderating their passions, which they called Ataxia and Metriopathia; and in suspending their judgment in regard of good and evil, truth or falsehood, which they called Epechi. Sextus Empiricus, who lived in the second century, under the Emperor Antoninus Pius, writ ten books against the mathematicians or astrologers, and three of the Phyrrhonian opinion. The word is derived from the Greek SKEPTESZAI, quod est, considerare, speculare. [To consider or speculate] 143 l He cou'd reduce, &c.] The old philosophers thought to extract notions out of natural things, as chymists do spirits and essences; and, when they had refined them into the nicest subtilties, gave them as insignificant names as those operators do their extractions: But (as Seneca says) the subtiler things are they are but the nearer to nothing. So are all their definitions of things by acts the nearer to nonsense. 147 m Where Truth, &c.] Some authors have mistaken truth for a real thing, when it is nothing but a right method of putting those notions or images of things (in the understanding of man) into the same and order that their originals hold in nature, and therefore Aristotle says Unumquodque sicut habet secundum esse, ita se habet secundum veritatem. Met. L. ii. [As every thing has a secondary essence, therefore it has a secondary truth] 148 n Like words congeal'd, &c.] Some report in Nova Zembla, and Greenland, mens' words are wont to be frozen in the air, and at the thaw may heard. 151 In School-Divinity as able, As o he that Hight, Irrefragable, &c.] Here again is another alteration of three or lines, as I think, for the worse. Some specific epithets were added to the title of some famous doctors, as Angelicus, Irrefragabilis, Subtilis, [Angelic, Unopposable, Discriminating] &c. Vide Vossi Etymolog. Baillet Jugemens de Scavans, & Possevin's Apparatus 153 p A Second THOMAS or at once, To name them all, another DUNCE. Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican friar, was born in 1224, and studied at Cologne and Paris. He new modelled the school- divinity, and was therefore called the Angelic Doctor, and Eagle of Divines. The most illustrious persons of his time were ambitious of his friendship, and put a high value on his merits, so that they offered him bishopricks, which he refused with as much ardor as others seek after them. He died in the fiftieth year of his age, and was canonized by Pope John XII. We have his works in eighteen volumes, several times printed. Johannes Dunscotus was a very learned man, who lived about the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth century. The English and Scotch strive which of them shall have the honour of his birth. The English say, he was born in Northumberland: the Scots alledge he was born at Duns, in the Mers, the neighbouring county to Northumberland, and hence was called Dunscotus. Moreri, Buchanan, and other Scotch historians, are of this opinion, and for proof cite his epitaph: Scotia me genuit, Anglia suscepit, Gallia edocuit, Germania tenet. [Scotland bore me, England reared me, France instructed me, Germany kept me.] He died at Cologne, Novem. 8. 1308. In the Supplement to Dr. Cave's Historia Literaria, he is said to be extraordinary learned in physicks, metaphysicks, mathematicks, and astronomy; that his fame was so great when at Oxford, that 30,000 scholars came thither to hear his lectures: that when at Paris, his arguments and authority carried it for the immaculate conception of the Blessed Virgin; so that they appointed a festival on that account, and would admit us scholars to degrees but such as were of this mind. He was a great opposer of Thomas Aquinas's doctrine; and, for being a very acute logician, was called Doctor Subtilis; [Discriminating (or, literally, Slender) Teacher] which was the reason also, that an old punster always called him the Lathy Doctor. 158 q As tough as, &c.] Sorbon was the first and most considerable college of the university of Paris, founded in time reign of St. Lewis, by Robert Sorbon, which name is sometimes given to the whole University of Paris, which was founded, about the year 741, by Charlemagne, at the persuasion of the learned Alcuinus, who was one of the first professors there; since which time it has been very famous. This college has been rebuilt with an extraordinary magnificence, at the charge of Cardinal Richlieu, and contains lodgings for thirty-six doctors, who are called the Society of Sorbon. Those which are received among them before they have received their doctor's degree are only said to be of the Hospitality of Sorbon. Claud. Hemeraus de Acad. Paris. Spondan in Annal. 173 r he knew, &c.] There is nothing more ridiculous than the various opinions of authors about the seat of Paradise. Sir. Walter Raleigh has taken a great deal of pains to collect them, in the beginning of his History of the World; where those, who are unsatisfied, may be fully informed. 180 s By a High-Dutch, &c.] Goropius Becanus endeavours to prove that High-Dutch was the language that Adam and Eve spoke in Paradise. 181 t If either of &c.] Adam and Eve being made, and not conceived and formed in the womb had no navels as some learned men have supposed, because they had no need of them. 182 u Who first made, &c.] Musick is said to be invented by Pythagoras, who first found out the proportion of notes from the sounds of hammers upon an anvil 232 w Like MAHOMET's &c.) Mahomet had a tame dove, that used to pick seeds out of his ear that it might be thought to whisper and inspire him. His ass was so intimate with him, that the Mahometans believed it carried him to heaven, and stays there with him to bring him back again. 257 x It was Monastick, and did grow In holy Orders by strict Vow. He made a vow never to cut his beard until the Parliament had subdued the King; of which order of phanatick votaries there were many in those times. 281 y So learned TALIACOTIUS &c.] Taliacotius was an Italian surgeon, that found out a way to repair lost and decayed noses. This Taliacotius was chief surgeon to the Great Duke of Tuscany, and wrote a treatise, De Curtis Membris, [Of Cut-off Parts] which he dedicates to his great master wherein he not only declares the models of his wonderful operations in restoring of lost members, but gives you cuts of the very instruments and ligatures he made use of therein; from hence our Author (cum poetica licentia [with poetic licence]) has taken his simile. 289 z For as AENEAS, &c.] AEneas was the son of Anchises and Venus; a Trojan, who, after long travels, came to Italy, and after the death of his father-in-law, Latinus, was made king of Latium, and reigned three years. His story is too long to insert here, and therefore I refer you to Virgil's AEneids. Troy being laid in ashes, he took his aged father Anchises upon his back, and rescued him from his enemies. But being too solicitous for his son and household gods, he lost his wife Creusa; which Mr. Dryden, in his excellent translation, thus expresseth. Haste my dear father (tis no time to wait,) And load my shoulders with a willing freight. Whate'er befals, your life shall be my care; One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share. My hand shall lead our little son; and you, My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. 337 a -- For ARTHUR, &c.] Who this Arthur was and whether any ever reigned in Britain, has been doubted heretofore, and is by some to this very day. However, the history of him, which makes him one of the nine worthies of the world, is a subject, sufficient for the Poet to be pleasant upon. 359 b -- Toledo trusty, &c.] The capital city of New Castile, Spain, with an archbishopric and primacy. It was very famous, amongst other things, for tempering the best metal for swords, as Damascus was and perhaps may be still. 389 c But left the trade, as many more Have lately done, &c. Oliver Cromwell and Colonel Pride had been both brewers. 433 d That CAESAR's Horse, who, as Fame goes, Had corns upon his Feet and Toes. Julius Caesar had a horse with feet like a man's. Utebatur equo insigni; pedibus prope humanis, modum digitorum ungulis fissis. [He rode a horse with this distinction; it had feet like a man's, having the hooves split like toes] Suet. in Jul. Cap. 61. 467 c The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd With subtle Shreds a Tract of Land. Dido, Queen of Carthage, who bought as much land as she could compass with an ox's hide, which she cut into small thongs, and cheated the owner of so much ground as served her to build Carthage upon. 476 f As the bold, &c.] AEneas, whom Virgil reports to use a golden bough for a pass to hell; and taylors call that place Hell where they put all they steal. 526 g As three, &c.] Read the great Geographical Dictionary, under that word. 520 h In Magick, &c.] Talisman is a device to destroy any sort of vermin, by casting their images in metal, in a precise minute, when the stars are perfectly inclined to do them all the mischief they can. This has been experienced by some modern Virtuosi upon rats, mice, and fleas, and found (as they affirm) to produce the effect with admirable success. Raymund Lully interprets cabal, out of the Arabic, to signify Scientia superabundans; which his commentator, Cornelius Agrippa, by over-magnifying, has rendered a very superfluous foppery. 532 i As far as, &c.] The author of Magia Adamica endeavours to prove the learning of the ancient Magi to be derived from that knowledge which God himself taught Adam in Paradise before the fall. 535 And much of Terra Incognita, The intelligible World cou'd say. The intelligible world is a kind of Terra Del Fuego, or Psittacorum Regio[Land of Parrots], &c. discovered only by the philosophers; of which they talk, like parrots, what they do not understand. 538 k learned &c.] No nation in the world is more addicted to this occult philosophy than the Wild-Irish are, as appears by the whole practice of their lives; of which see Camden in his description of Ireland. 539 l Or Sir AGRIPPA, &c.] They who would know more of Sir Cornelius Agrippa, here meant, may consult the Great Dictionary. 541 m He ANTHROPOSOPHUS and FLOUD, And JACOB BEHMEN understood. Anthroposophus is only a compound Greek word, which signifies a man that is wise in the knowledge of men, as is used by some anonymous author to conceal his true name. Dr. Floud was a sort of an English Rosy-crucian, whose works are extant, and as intelligible as those of Jacob Behmen. 545 n In ROSY-CRUCIAN Lore as learned As he that Vere Adeptus earned. The fraternity of the Rosy-crucians is very like the sect of the ancient Gnostici, who called them selves so from the excellent learning they pretended to, although they were really the most ridiculous sots of mankind. Vere Adeptus is one that has commenced in their phanatick extravagance. 646 o Thou that with Ale or viler Liquors, Didst inspire WITHERS, PRYN, and VICARS. This Vicars was a man of as great interest and authority in the late Reformation as Pryn or Withers, and as able a poet. He translated Virgil's AEneids into as horrible Travesty, in earnest, as the French Scaroon did in burlesque, and was only outdone in his way by the politic author of Oceana. 714 p We that are, &c.] This speech is set down as it was delivered by the Knight, in his own words: But since it is below the gravity of heroical poetry to admit of humour, but all men are obliged to speak wisely alike, and too much of so extravagant a folly would become tedious and impertinent, the rest of his harangues have only his sense expressed in other words, unless in some few places, where his own words could not be so well avoided. 753 q In bloody, &c.] Cynarctomachy signifies no thing in the world but a fight between dogs and bears; though both the learned and ignorant agree that in such words very great knowledge is contained: And our Knight, as one, or both, of these, was of the same opinion. 758 r Or Force, &c.] Averruncate: Another of the same kind, which, though it appear ever so learned and profound, means nothing else but the weeding of corn. 777 s The Indians fought for the Truth Of th' Elephant and Monkey's Tooth. The History of the White Elephant and the Monkey's-Tooth, which the Indians adored, is written by Mons. le Blanc. This monkey's tooth was taken by the Portuguese from those that worshipped it; and though they offered a vast ransom for it, yet the Christians were persuaded by their priests rather to burn it. But as soon as the fire was kindled, all the people present were not able to endure the horrible stink that came from it, as if the fire had been made of the same ingredients with which seamen use to compose that kind of granados which they call stinkards. 786 t The Rage, &c.] Boute-feus is a French word, and therefore it were uncivil to suppose any English person (especially of quality) ignorant of it, or so ill-bred as to need an exposition. 903 u 'Tis sung, &c.] Mamaluke is the name of the militia of the Sultans of Egypt. It signified a servant or soldier. They were commonly captives taken from amongst the Christians, and instructed in military discipline, and did not marry. Their power was great; for besides that the Sultans were chosen out of their body, they disposed of the most important offices of the kingdom. They were formidable about 200 years; 'till at last Selim, Sultan of the Turks, routed them, and killed their Sultan, near Aleppo, 1516, and so put an end to the empire of Mamalukes, which had lasted 267 years. No question but the rhime to Mamaluke was meant Sir Samuel Luke, of whom in the Preface. 913 w Honour is like, &c.] Our English proverbs are not impertinent to this purpose: He that woos a Maid, must seldom come in her sight: But he that woos a Widow, must woo her Day and Night. He that woos a Maid, must feign, lye, and flatter: But he that woos a Widow, must down with his Breeches, and at her. This proverb being somewhat immodest, Mr Ray says he would not have inserted it in his collection, but that he met with it in a little book, intitled, the Quakers' Spiritual Court Proclaimed; written by Nathaniel Smith, Student in Physic; wherein the author mentions it as counsel given him by Hilkiah Bedford, an eminent Quaker in London, who would have had him to have married a rich widow, in whose house he lodged. In case he could get her, this Nathaniel Smith had promised Hilkiah a chamber gratis. The whole narrative is worth the reading. PART I. CANTO II. THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The catalogue and character Of th' enemies best men of war; Whom, in bold harangue, the Knight Defies, and challenges to fight. H' encounters Talgol, routs the Bear, And takes the Fiddler prisoner, Conveys him to enchanted castle; There shuts him fast in wooden bastile. ------------------------------------------------- THERE was an ancient sage philosopher, That had read ALEXANDER Ross over, And swore the world, as he cou'd prove, Was made of fighting and of love: Just so romances are; for what else 5 Is in them all, but love and battels? O' th' first of these we've no great matter To treat of, but a world o' th' latter; In which to do the injur'd right We mean, in what concerns just fight. 10 Certes our authors are to blame, For to make some well-sounding name A pattern fit for modern Knights To copy out in frays and fights; Like those that a whole street do raze 15 To build a palace in the place. They never care how many others They kill, without regard of mothers, Or wives, or children, so they can Make up some fierce, dead-doing man, 20 Compos'd of many ingredient valors, Just like the manhood of nine taylors. So a Wild Tartar, when he spies A man that's handsome, valiant, wise, If he can kill him, thinks t' inherit 25 His wit, his beauty, and his spirit As if just so much he enjoy'd As in another is destroy'd For when a giant's slain in fight, And mow'd o'erthwart, or cleft down right, 30 It is a heavy case, no doubt; A man should have his brains beat out Because he's tall, and has large bones; As men kill beavers for their stones. But as for our part, we shall tell 35 The naked truth of what befel; And as an equal friend to both The Knight and Bear, but more to troth, With neither faction shall take part, But give to each his due desert; 40 And never coin a formal lie on't, To make the Knight o'ercome the giant. This b'ing profest, we've hopes enough, And now go on where we left off. They rode; but authors having not 45 Determin'd whether pace or trot, (That is to say, whether tollutation, As they do term't, or succussation,) We leave it, and go on, as now Suppose they did, no matter how; 50 Yet some from subtle hints have got Mysterious light, it was a trot: But let that pass: they now begun To spur their living-engines on. For as whipp'd tops, and bandy'd balls, 55 The learned hold, are animals; So horses they affirm to be Mere engines made by geometry; And were invented first from engines, As Indian Britons were from Penguins. 60 So let them be; and, as I was saying, They their live engines ply'd, not staying Until they reach'd the fatal champain, Which th' enemy did then encamp on; The dire Pharsalian plain, where battle 65 Was to be wag'd 'twixt puissant cattle And fierce auxiliary men, That came to aid their brethren, Who now began to take the field, As Knight from ridge of steed beheld. 70 For as our modern wits behold, Mounted a pick-back on the old, Much further oft; much further he, Rais'd on his aged beast cou'd see; Yet not sufficient to descry 75 All postures of the enemy; Wherefore he bids the Squire ride further, T' observe their numbers, and their order; That when their motions he had known He might know how to fit his own. 80 Meanwhile he stopp'd his willing steed, To fit himself for martial deed. Both kinds of metal he prepar'd, Either to give blows, or to ward: Courage and steel, both of great force, 85 Prepar'd for better, or for worse. His death-charg'd pistols he did fit well, Drawn out from life-preserving vittle. These being prim'd, with force he labour'd To free's sword from retentive scabbard 90 And, after many a painful pluck, From rusty durance he bail'd tuck. Then shook himself, to see that prowess In scabbard of his arms sat loose; And, rais'd upon his desp'rate foot, 95 On stirrup-side he gaz'd about, Portending blood, like blazing star, The beacon of approaching war. RALPHO rode on with no less speed Than Hugo in the forest did; 100 But far more in returning made; For now the foe he had survey'd, Rang'd as to him they did appear, With van, main battle, wings, and rear. I' the head of all this warlike rabble, 105 CROWDERO march'd, expert and able. Instead of trumpet and of drum, That makes the warrior's stomach come, Whose noise whets valour sharp, like beer By thunder turn'd to vinegar, 110 (For if a trumpet sound, or drum beat, Who has not a month's mind to combat?) A squeaking engine he apply'd Unto his neck, on north-east side, Just where the hangman does dispose, 115 To special friends, the knot of noose: For 'tis great grace, when statesmen straight Dispatch a friend, let others wait. His warped ear hung o'er the strings, Which was but souse to chitterlings: 120 For guts, some write, e'er they are sodden, Are fit for music, or for pudden; From whence men borrow ev'ry kind Of minstrelsy by string or wind. His grisly beard was long and thick, 125 With which he strung his fiddle-stick; For he to horse-tail scorn'd to owe, For what on his own chin did grow. Chiron, the four-legg'd bard, had both A beard and tail of his own growth; 130 And yet by authors 'tis averr'd, He made use only of his beard. In Staffordshire, where virtuous worth Does raise the minstrelsy, not birth; Where bulls do chuse the boldest king, 135 And ruler, o'er the men of string; (As once in Persia, 'tis said, Kings were proclaim'd by a horse that neigh'd;) He bravely venturing at a crown, By chance of war was beaten down, 140 And wounded sore. His leg then broke, Had got a deputy of oak: For when a shin in fight is cropp'd, The knee with one of timber's propp'd, Esteem'd more honourable than the other, 145 And takes place, though the younger brother. Next march'd brave ORSIN, famous for Wise conduct, and success in war: A skilful leader, stout, severe, Now marshal to the champion bear. 150 With truncheon, tipp'd with iron head, The warrior to the lists he led; With solemn march and stately pace, But far more grave and solemn face; Grave as the Emperor of Pegu 155 Or Spanish potentate Don Diego. This leader was of knowledge great, Either for charge or for retreat. He knew when to fall on pell-mell; To fall back and retreat as well. 160 So lawyers, lest the bear defendant, And plaintiff dog, should make an end on't, Do stave and tail with writs of error, Reverse of judgment, and demurrer, To let them breathe a while, and then 165 Cry whoop, and set them on agen. As ROMULUS a wolf did rear, So he was dry-nurs'd by a bear, That fed him with the purchas'd prey Of many a fierce and bloody fray; 170 Bred up, where discipline most rare is, In military Garden Paris. <> For soldiers heretofore did grow In gardens, just as weeds do now, Until some splay-foot politicians 175 T'APOLLO offer'd up petitions For licensing a new invention They'd found out of an antique engine, To root out all the weeds that grow In public gardens at a blow, 180 And leave th' herbs standing. Quoth Sir Sun, My friends, that is not to be done. Not done! quoth Statesmen; yes, an't please ye, When it's once known, you'll say 'tis easy. Why then let's know it, quoth Apollo. 185 We'll beat a drum, and they'll all follow. A drum! (quoth PHOEBUS;) troth, that's true; A pretty invention, quaint and new. But though of voice and instrument We are the undoubted president, 190 We such loud music don't profess: The Devil's master of that office, Where it must pass, if't be a drum; He'll sign it with Cler. Parl. Dom. Com. To him apply yourselves, and he 195 Will soon dispatch you for his fee. They did so; but it prov'd so ill, Th' had better let 'em grow there still. But to resume what we discoursing Were on before, that is, stout ORSIN: 200 That which so oft, by sundry writers, Has been applied t' almost all fighters, More justly may b' ascrib'd to this Than any other warrior, (viz.) None ever acted both parts bolder, 205 Both of a chieftain and a soldier. He was of great descent and high For splendour and antiquity; And from celestial origine Deriv'd himself in a right line. 210 Not as the ancient heroes did, Who, that their base-births might be hid, (Knowing they were of doubtful gender, And that they came in at a windore) Made Jupiter himself and others 215 O' th' gods, gallants to their own mothers, To get on them a race of champions, (Of which old Homer first made Lampoons.) ARCTOPHYLAX, in northern spheres Was his undoubted ancestor: 220 From him his great forefathers came, And in all ages bore his name. Learned he was in med'c'nal lore; For by his side a pouch he wore, Replete with strange Hermetic powder, 225 That wounds nine miles point-blank wou'd solder; By skilful chemist, with great cost, Extracted from a rotten post; But of a heav'nlier influence Than that which mountebanks dispense; 230 Tho' by Promethean fire made, <> As they do quack that drive that trade. For as when slovens do amiss At others doors, by stool or piss, The learned write, a red-hot spit 235 B'ing prudently apply'd to it, Will convey mischief from the dung Unto the part that did the wrong, So this did healing; and as sure As that did mischief this would cure. 240 Thus virtuous ORSIN was endu'd With learning, conduct, fortitude, Incomparable: and as the prince Of poets, HOMER sung long since A skilful leech is better far 245 Than half an hundred men of war, So he appear'd; and by his skill, No less than dint of sword, cou'd kill The gallant BRUIN march'd next him, With visage formidably grim, 250 And rugged as a Saracen, Or Turk of Mahomet's own kin; Clad in a mantle della guerre Of rough impenetrable fur; And in his nose, like Indian King, 255 He wore, for ornament, a ring; About his neck a threefold gorget. As rough as trebled leathern target; Armed, as heralds cant, and langued; Or, as the vulgar say, sharp-fanged. 260 For as the teeth in beasts of prey Are swords, with which they fight in fray; So swords, in men of war, are teeth, Which they do eat their vittle with. He was by birth, some authors write, 265 A Russian; some, a Muscovite; And 'mong the Cossacks had been bred; <> Of whom we in diurnals read, That serve to fill up pages here, As with their bodies ditches there. 270 SCRIMANSKY was his cousin-german, With whom he serv'd, and fed on vermin; And when these fail'd, he'd suck his claws, And quarter himself upon his paws. And tho' his countrymen, the Huns,<> 275 Did stew their meat between their bums And th' horses backs o'er which they straddle, And ev'ry man eat up his saddle; He was not half so nice as they, But eat it raw when 't came in's way. 280 He had trac'd countries far and near, More than LE BLANC, the traveller; Who writes, he spous'd in India, Of noble house, a lady gay, And got on her a race of worthies, 285 As stout as any upon earth is. Full many a fight for him between TALGOL and ORSIN oft had been Each striving to deserve the crown Of a sav'd citizen; the one 290 To guard his bear; the other fought To aid his dog; both made more stout By sev'ral spurs of neighbourhood, Church-fellow-membership, and blood But TALGOL, mortal foe to cows, 295 Never got aught of him but blows; Blows, hard and heavy, such as he Had lent, repaid with usury. Yet TALGOL was of courage stout, And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought: 300 Inur'd to labour, sweat and toil, And like a champion shone with oil. Right many a widow his keen blade,. And many fatherless had made. He many a boar and huge dun-cow 305 Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow; But Guy with him in fight compar'd, Had like the boar or dun-cow far'd With greater troops of sheep h' had fought Than AJAX or bold DON QUIXOTE: 310 And many a serpent of fell kind, With wings before and stings behind, Subdu'd: as poets say, long agone Bold Sir GEORGE, St. GEORGE did the dragon. Nor engine, nor device polemic, 31 5 Disease, nor doctor epidemic, Tho' stor'd with deletory med'cines, (Which whosoever took is dead since,) E'er sent so vast a colony To both the underworlds as he: 320 For he was of that noble trade That demi-gods and heroes made, Slaughter and knocking on the head;. The trade to which they all were bred; And is, like others, glorious when 325 'Tis great and large, but base if mean. The former rides in triumph for it; The latter in a two-wheel'd chariot For daring to profane a thing So sacred with vile bungling. 330 Next these the brave MAGNANO came; MAGNANO, great in martial fame. Yet when with ORSIN he wag'd fight, 'Tis sung, he got but little by't. Yet he was fierce as forest boar, 335 Whose spoils upon his back he wore, As thick as AJAX' seven-fold shield, Which o'er his brazen arms he held: But brass was feeble to resist The fury of his armed fist: 340 Nor cou'd the hardest ir'n hold out Against his blows, but they wou'd through't. In MAGIC he was deeply read As he that made the brazen head; Profoundly skill'd in the black art; 345 As ENGLISH MERLIN for his heart; But far more skilful in the spheres Than he was at the sieve and shears. He cou'd transform himself in colour As like the devil as a collier; 350 As like as hypocrites in show Are to true saints, or crow to crow. Of WARLIKE ENGINES he was author, Devis'd for quick dispatch of slaughter: The cannon, blunderbuss, and saker, 355 He was th' inventor of, and maker: The trumpet, and the kettle-drum, Did both from his invention come. He was the first that e'er did teach To make, and how to stop, a breach. 360 A lance he bore with iron pike; Th' one half wou'd thrust, the other strike; And when their forces he had join'd, He scorn'd to turn his parts behind. He TRULLA lov'd; TRULLA, more bright 365 Than burnish'd armour of her Knight: A bold virago, stout and tall, As JOAN of FRANCE, or English MALL. Thro' perils both of wind and limb, Thro' thick and thin, she follow'd him, 370 In ev'ry adventure h' undertook, And never him or it forsook. At breach of wall, or hedge surprize, She shar'd i' th' hazard and the prize: At beating quarters up, or forage, 375 Behav'd herself with matchless courage; And laid about in fight more busily Than the Amazonian dame Penthesile. And though some criticks here cry shame, And say our authors are to blame, 380 That (spite of all philosophers, Who hold no females stout, but bears; And heretofore did so abhor That women should pretend to war, 'They wou'd not suffer the stoutest dame 385 To swear by HERCULES'S name) Make feeble ladies, in their works, To fight like termagants and Turks; To lay their native arms aside, Their modesty, and ride astride; 390 To run a-tilt at men, and wield Their naked tools in open field; As stout ARMIDA, bold TRALESTRIS, And she that wou'd have been the mistress Of GUNDIBERT; but he had grace, 395 And rather took a country lass; They say, 'tis false, without all sense, But of pernicious consequence To government, which they suppose Can never be upheld in prose; 400 Strip nature naked to the skin, You'll find about her no such thing. It may be so; yet what we tell Of TRULLA that's improbable, Shall be depos'd by those who've seen't, 405 Or, what's as good, produc'd in print: And if they will not take our word, We'll prove it true upon record. The upright CERDON next advanc't, Of all his race the valiant'st: 410 CERDON the Great, renown'd in song, Like HERC'LES, for repair of wrong: He rais'd the low, and fortify'd The weak against the strongest side: Ill has he read, that never hit 415 On him in Muses' deathless writ. He had a weapon keen and fierce, That through a bull-hide shield wou'd pierce, And cut it in a thousand pieces, 420 Tho' tougher than the Knight of Greece his, With whom his black-thumb'd ancestor Was comrade in the ten years war: For when the restless Greeks sat down So many years before Troy town, 425 And were renown'd, as HOMER writes, For well-soal'd boots no less than fights, They ow'd that glory only to His ancestor, that made them so. Fast friend he was to REFORMATION, 430 Until 'twas worn quite out of fashion. Next rectifier of wry LAW, And wou'd make three to cure one flaw. Learned he was, and could take note, Transcribe, collect, translate, and quote. 435 But PREACHING was his chiefest talent, Or argument, in which b'ing valiant, He us'd to lay about and stickle, Like ram or bull, at conventicle: For disputants, like rams and bulls, 440 Do fight with arms that spring from skulls. Last COLON came, bold man of war, Destin'd to blows by fatal star; Right expert in command of horse; But cruel, and without remorse. 445 That which of CENTAUR long ago Was said, and has been wrested to Some other knights, was true of this; He and his horse were of a piece. One spirit did inform them both; 450 The self-same vigour, fury, wroth: Yet he was much the rougher part, And always had a harder heart; Although his horse had been of those That fed on man's flesh, as fame goes. 455 Strange food for horse! and yet, alas! It may be true, for flesh is grass. Sturdy he was, and no less able Than HERCULES to clean a stable; As great a drover, and as great 460 A critic too, in hog or neat. He ripp'd the womb up of his mother, Dame Tellus, 'cause she wanted fother And provender wherewith to feed Himself, and his less cruel steed. 465 It was a question, whether he Or's horse were of a family More worshipful: 'till antiquaries (After th' had almost por'd out their eyes) Did very learnedly decide 470 The business on the horse's side; And prov'd not only horse, but cows, Nay, pigs, were of the elder house: For beasts, when man was but a piece Of earth himself, did th' earth possess. 475 These worthies were the chief that led The combatants, each in the head Of his command, with arms and rage, Ready and longing to engage. The numerous rabble was drawn out 480 Of sev'ral counties round about, From villages remote, and shires, Of east and western hemispheres From foreign parishes and regions, Of different manners, speech, religions, 485 Came men and mastiffs; some to fight For fame and honour, some for sight. And now the field of death, the lists, Were enter'd by antagonists, And blood was ready to be broach'd, 490 When HUDIBRAS in haste approach'd, With Squire and weapons, to attack 'em: But first thus from his horse bespake 'em: What rage, O citizens! what fury Doth you to these dire actions hurry? 495 What oestrum, what phrenetic mood, Makes you thus lavish of your blood, While the proud Vies your trophies boast And unreveng'd walks -- ghost? What towns, what garrisons might you 500 With hazard of this blood subdue, Which now y'are bent to throw away In vain, untriumphable fray! Shall SAINTS in civil bloodshed wallow Of Saints, and let the CAUSE lie fallow? 505 The Cause for which we fought and swore So boldly, shall we now give o'er? Then, because quarrels still are seen With oaths and swearings to begin, The SOLEMN LEAGUE and COVENANT 510 Will seem a mere God-dam-me rant; And we, that took it, and have fought, As lewd as drunkards that fall out. For as we make war for the King Against himself the self-same thing, 515 Some will not stick to swear we do For God and for Religion too: For if bear-baiting we allow, What good can Reformation do? The blood and treasure that's laid out, 520 Is thrown away, and goes for nought. Are these the fruits o' th' PROTESTATION, The Prototype of Reformation, Which all the Saints, and some, since Martyrs, Wore in their hats like wedding garters, 525 When 'twas resolv'd by either house Six Members quarrel to espouse? Did they for this draw down the rabble, With zeal and noises formidable, And make all cries about the town 530 Join throats to cry the Bishops down? Who having round begirt the palace, (As once a month they do the gallows,) As members gave the sign about, Set up their throats with hideous shout. 535 When tinkers bawl'd aloud to settle Church discipline, for patching kettle: No sow-gelder did blow his horn To geld a cat, but cry'd, Reform. The oyster-women lock'd their fish up, 540 And trudg'd away, to cry, No Bishop. The mouse-trap men laid save-alls by, And 'gainst Ev'l Counsellors did cry. Botchers left old cloaths in the lurch, And fell to turn and patch the Church. 545 Some cry'd the Covenant instead Of pudding-pies and ginger-bread; And some for brooms, old boots and shoes, Bawl'd out to Purge the Commons House. Instead of kitchen-stuff, some cry, 550 A Gospel-preaching Ministry; And some, for old suits, coats, or cloak, No Surplices nor Service-Book. A strange harmonious inclination Of all degrees to Reformation. 555 And is this all? Is this the end To which these carr'ings on did tend? Hath public faith, like a young heir, For this ta'en up all sorts of ware, And run int' every tradesman's book, 560 'Till both turn'd bankrupts, and are broke? Did Saints for this bring in their plate, And crowd as if they came too late? For when they thought the Cause had need on't, Happy was he that could be rid on't. 565 Did they coin piss-pots, bowls, and flaggons, Int' officers of horse and dragoons; And into pikes and musquetteers Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers! A thimble, bodkin, and a spoon, 570 Did start up living men as soon As in the furnace they were thrown, Just like the dragon's teeth b'ing sown. Then was the Cause of gold and plate, The Brethren's off'rings, consecrate, 575 Like th' Hebrew calf, and down before it The Saints fell prostrate, to adore it So say the wicked -- and will you Make that sarcasmus scandal true, By running after dogs and bears? 580 Beasts more unclean than calves or steers. Have pow'rful Preachers ply'd their tongues, And laid themselves out and their lungs; Us'd all means, both direct and sinister, I' th' pow'r of Gospel-preaching Minister? 585 Have they invented tones to win The women, and make them draw in The men, as Indians with a female Tame elephant inveigle the male? Have they told Prov'dence what it must do, 590 Whom to avoid, and whom to trust to? Discover'd th' enemy's design, And which way best to countermine? Prescrib'd what ways it hath to work, Or it will ne'er advance the Kirk? 595 Told it the news o' th' last express, And after good or bad success, Made prayers, not so like petitions, As overtures and propositions, (Such as the army did present 600 To their creator, th' Parliament,) In which they freely will confess They will not, cannot acquiesce, Unless the work be carry'd on In the same way they have begun, 605 By setting Church and Common-weal All on a flame, bright as their zeal, On which the Saints were all a-gog, And all this for a bear and dog? The parliament drew up petitions 610 To itself, and sent them, like commissions, To well-affected persons down, In ev'ry city and great town, With pow'r to levy horse and men, Only to bring them back agen: 615 For this did many, many a mile, Ride manfully in rank and file, With papers in their hats, that show'd As if they to the pillory rode. Have all these courses, these efforts, 620 Been try'd by people of all sorts, Velis & remis, omnibus nervis And all t'advance the Cause's service? And shall all now be thrown, away In petulant intestine fray? 625 Shall we that in the Cov'nant swore, Each man of us to run before Another, still in Reformation, Give dogs and bears a dispensation? How will Dissenting Brethren relish it? 630 What will malignants say? videlicet, That each man Swore to do his best, To damn and perjure all the rest! And bid the Devil take the hin'most, Which at this race is like to win most. 635 They'll say our bus'ness, to reform The Church and State, is but a worm; For to subscribe, unsight, unseen, To an unknown Church-discipline, What is it else, but before-hand 640 T'engage, and after understand? For when we swore to carry on The present Reformation, According to the purest mode Of Churches best reformed abroad, 645 What did we else, but make a vow To do we know not what, nor how? For no three of us will agree, Where or what Churches these should be; And is indeed the self-same case 650 With theirs that swore et caeteras; Or the French League, in which men vow'd To fight to the last drop of blood. These slanders will be thrown upon The Cause and Work we carry on, 655 If we permit men to run headlong T' exorbitances fit for Bedlam Rather than Gospel-walking times, When slightest sins are greatest crimes. But we the matter so shall handle, 660 As to remove that odious scandal. In name of King and parliament, I charge ye all; no more foment This feud, but keep the peace between Your brethren and your countrymen; 665 And to those places straight repair Where your respective dwellings are. But to that purpose first surrender The FIDDLER, as the prime offender, Th' incendiary vile, that is chief 670 Author and engineer of mischief; That makes division between friends, For profane and malignant ends. He, and that engine of vile noise, On which illegally he plays, 675 Shall (dictum factum) both be brought To condign punishment, as they ought. This must be done; and I would fain see Mortal so sturdy as to gain-say: For then I'll take another course, 680 And soon reduce you all by force. This said, he clapp'd his hand on sword, To shew he meant to keep his word. But TALGOL, who had long supprest Inflamed wrath in glowing, breast, 685 Which now began to rage and burn as Implacably as flame in furnace, Thus answer'd him: -- Thou vermin wretched As e'er in measled pork was hatched; Thou tail of worship, that dost grow 690 On rump of justice as of cow; How dar'st thou, with that sullen luggage O' th' self, old ir'n, and other baggage, With which thy steed of bones and leather Has broke his wind in halting hither; 695 How durst th', I say, adventure thus T' oppose thy lumber against us? Could thine impertinence find out To work t' employ itself about, Where thou, secure from wooden blow, 700 Thy busy vanity might'st show? Was no dispute a-foot between The caterwauling Brethren? No subtle question rais'd among 705 Those out-o-their wits, and those i' th' wrong; No prize between those combatants O' th' times, the Land and Water Saints; Where thou might'st stickle without hazard Of outrage to thy hide and mazzard; And not for want of bus'ness come 710 To us to be so troublesome, To interrupt our better sort Of disputants, and spoil our sport? Was there no felony, no bawd, Cut-purse, no burglary abroad; 715 No stolen pig, nor plunder'd goose, To tie thee up from breaking loose? No ale unlicens'd, broken hedge, For which thou statute might'st alledge, To keep thee busy from foul evil, 720 And shame due to thee from the Devil? Did no committee sit, where he Might cut out journey-work for thee? And set th' a task, with subornation, To stitch up sale and sequestration; 725 To cheat, with holiness and zeal, All parties, and the common-weal? Much better had it been for thee, H' had kept thee where th' art us'd to be; Or sent th' on bus'ness any whither, 730 So he had never brought thee hither. But if th' hast brain enough in skull To keep itself in lodging whole, And not provoke the rage of stones And cudgels to thy hide and bones 735 Tremble, and vanish, while thou may'st, Which I'll not promise if thou stay'st. At this the Knight grew high in wroth, And lifting hands and eyes up both, Three times he smote on stomach stout, 740 From whence at length these words broke out: Was I for this entitled SIR, And girt with trusty sword and spur, For fame and honor to wage battle, Thus to be brav'd by foe to cattle? 745 Not all that pride that makes thee swell As big as thou dost blown-up veal; Nor all thy tricks and sleights to cheat, And sell thy carrion for good meat; Not all thy magic to repair 750 Decay'd old age in tough lean ware; Make nat'ral appear thy work, And stop the gangrene in stale pork; Not all that force that makes thee proud, Because by bullock ne'er withstood; 755 Though arm'd with all thy cleavers, knives, And axes made to hew down lives, Shall save or help thee to evade The hand of Justice, or this blade, Which I, her sword-bearer, do carry, 760 For civil deed and military. Nor shall those words of venom base, Which thou hast from their native place, Thy stomach, pump'd to fling on me, Go unreveng'd, though I am free: 765 Thou down the same throat shalt devour 'em, Like tainted beef, and pay dear for 'em. Nor shall it e'er be said, that wight With gantlet blue, and bases white, And round blunt truncheon by his side, 770 So great a man at arms defy'd With words far bitterer than wormwood, That would in Job or Grizel stir mood. Dogs with their tongues their wounds do heal; But men with hands, as thou shalt feel. 775 This said, with hasty rage he snatch'd His gun-shot, that in holsters watch'd; And bending cock, he levell'd full Against th' outside of TALGOL'S skull; Vowing that he shou'd ne'er stir further, 780 Nor henceforth cow nor bullock murther. But PALLAS came in shape of rust, And 'twixt the spring and hammerthrust Her Gorgon shield, which made the cock Stand stiff, as t'were transform'd to stock. 785 Mean while fierce TALGOL, gath'ring might, With rugged truncheon charg'd the Knight; But he with petronel upheav'd, Instead of shield, the blow receiv'd. The gun recoil'd, as well it might, 790 Not us'd to such a kind of fight, And shrunk from its great master's gripe, Knock'd down and stunn'd by mortal stripe. Then HUDIBRAS, with furious haste, Drew out his sword; yet not so fast, 795 But TALGOL first, with hardy thwack, Twice bruis'd his head, and twice his back. But when his nut-brown sword was out, With stomach huge he laid about, Imprinting many a wound upon 800 His mortal foe, the truncheon. The trusty cudgel did oppose Itself against dead-doing blows, To guard its leader from fell bane, And then reveng'd itself again. 805 And though the sword (some understood) In force had much the odds of wood, 'Twas nothing so; both sides were ballanc't So equal, none knew which was valiant'st: For wood with Honour b'ing engag'd, 810 Is so implacably enrag'd, Though iron hew and mangle sore, Wood wounds and bruises Honour more. And now both Knights were out of breath, Tir'd in the hot pursuit of death; 815 While all the rest amaz'd stood still, Expecting which should take or kill. This HUDIBRAS observ'd; and fretting Conquest should be so long a getting, He drew up all his force into 820 One body, and that into one blow. But TALGOL wisely avoided it By cunning sleight; for had it hit, The upper part of him the blow Had slit as sure as that below. 825 Meanwhile th' incomparable COLON, To aid his friend, began to fall on. Him RALPH encounter'd, and straight grew A dismal combat 'twixt them two: Th' one arm'd with metal, th' other with wood; 830 This fit for bruise, and that for blood. With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crab-tree and old iron rang; While none that saw them cou'd divine To which side conquest would incline, 835 Until MAGNANO, who did envy That two should with so many men vie, By subtle stratagem of brain, Perform'd what force could ne'er attain; For he, by foul hap, having found 840 Where thistles grew on barren ground, In haste he drew his weapon out, And having cropp'd them from the root, He clapp'd them underneath the tail Of steed, with pricks as sharp as nail. 845 The angry beast did straight resent The wrong done to his fundament; Began to kick, and fling, and wince, As if h' had been beside his sense, Striving to disengage from thistle, 850 That gall'd him sorely under his tail: Instead of which, he threw the pack Of Squire and baggage from his back; And blund'ring still with smarting rump, He gave the Knight's steed such a thump 855 As made him reel. The Knight did stoop, And sat on further side aslope. This TALGOL viewing, who had now By sleight escap'd the fatal blow, He rally'd, and again fell to't; 860 For catching foe by nearer foot, He lifted with such might and strength, As would have hurl'd him thrice his length, And dash'd his brains (if any) out: But MARS, that still protects the stout, 865 In pudding-time came to his aid, And under him the Bear convey'd; The Bear, upon whose soft fur-gown The Knight with all his weight fell down. The friendly rug preserv'd the ground, 870 And headlong Knight, from bruise or wound; Like feather-bed betwixt a wall And heavy brunt of cannon-ball. As Sancho on a blanket fell, And had no hurt, our's far'd as well 875 In body; though his mighty spirit, B'ing heavy, did not so well bear it, The Bear was in a greater fright, Beat down and worsted by the Knight. He roar'd, and rak'd, and flung about, 880 To shake off bondage from his snout. His wrath inflam'd, boil'd o'er, and from His jaws of death he threw the foam: Fury in stranger postures threw him, And more than herald ever drew him. 885 He tore the earth which he had sav'd From squelch of Knight, and storm'd and rav'd, And vext the more because the harms He felt were 'gainst the law of arms: For men he always took to be 890 His friends, and dogs the enemy; Who never so much hurt had done him, As his own side did falling on him. It griev'd him to the guts that they For whom h' had fought so many a fray, 895 And serv'd with loss of blood so long, Shou'd offer such inhuman wrong; Wrong of unsoldier-like condition; For which he flung down his commission; And laid about him, till his nose 900 From thrall of ring and cord broke loose. Soon as he felt himself enlarg'd, Through thickest of his foes he charg'd, And made way through th' amazed crew; Some he o'erran, and some o'erthrew, 905 But took none; for by hasty flight He strove t' escape pursuit of Knight; From whom he fled with as much haste And dread as he the rabble chas'd. In haste he fled, and so did they; 910 Each and his fear a several way. CROWDERO only kept the field; Not stirring from the place he held; Though beaten down and wounded sore, I' th' fiddle, and a leg that bore 915 One side of him; not that of bone, But much it's better, th' wooden one. He spying HUDIBRAS lie strow'd Upon the ground, like log of wood, With fright of fall, supposed wound, 920 And loss of urine, in a swound, In haste he snatch'd the wooden limb, That hurt i' the ankle lay by him, And fitting it for sudden fight, Straight drew it up t' attack the Knight; 925 For getting up on stump and huckle, He with the foe began to buckle; Vowing to be reveng'd for breach Of crowd and skin upon the wretch, Sole author of all detriment 930 He and his fiddle underwent. But RALPHO (who had now begun T' adventure resurrection From heavy squelch, and had got up Upon his legs, with sprained crup) 935 Looking about, beheld pernicion Approaching Knight from fell musician. He snatch'd his whinyard up, that fled When he was falling off his steed, (As rats do from a falling house,) 940 To hide itself from rage of blows; And, wing'd with speed and fury, flew To rescue Knight from black and blew; Which, e'er he cou'd atchieve, his sconce The leg encounter'd twice and once; 945 And now 'twas rais'd to smite agen, When RALPHO thrust himself between. He took the blow upon his arm, To shield the Knight from further harm; And, joining wrath with force, bestow'd 950 On th' wooden member such a load, That down it fell, and with it bore CROWDERO, whom it propp'd before. To him the Squire right nimbly run, And setting conquering foot upon 955 His trunk, thus spoke: What desp'rate frenzy Made thee (thou whelp of Sin!) to fancy Thyself, and all that coward rabble, T' encounter us in battle able? How durst th', I say, oppose thy curship 960 'Gainst arms, authority, and worship? And HUDIBRAS or me provoke, Though all thy limbs, were heart of oke, And th' other half of thee as good To bear out blows, as that of wood? 965 Cou'd not the whipping-post prevail With all its rhet'ric, nor the jail, To keep from flaying scourge thy skin, And ankle free from iron gin? Which now thou shalt -- But first our care 970 Must see how HUDIBRAS doth fare. This said, he gently rais'd the Knight, And set him on his bum upright. To rouse him from lethargic dump, He tweak'd his nose; with gentle thump 975 Knock'd on his breast, as if 't had been To raise the spirits lodg'd within. They, waken'd with the noise, did fly From inward room to window eye, And gently op'ning lid, the casement, 980 Look'd out, but yet with some amazement. This gladded RALPHO much to see, Who thus bespoke the Knight: quoth he, Tweaking his nose, You are, great Sir, A self-denying conqueror; 985 As high, victorious, and great, As e'er fought for the Churches yet, If you will give yourself but leave To make out what y' already have; That's victory. The foe, for dread 990 Of your nine-worthiness, is fled: All, save CROWDERO, for whose sake You did th' espous'd Cause undertake; And he lies pris'ner at your feet, To be dispos'd as you think meet; 995 Either for life, or death, or sale, The gallows, or perpetual jail; For one wink of your powerful eye Must sentence him to live or die. His fiddle is your proper purchase, 1000 Won in the service of the Churches; And by your doom must be allow'd To be, or be no more, a crowd. For though success did not confer Just title on the conqueror; 1005 Though dispensations were not strong Conclusions, whether right or wrong, Although out-goings did confirm, And owning were but a mere term; Yet as the wicked have no right 1010 To th' creature, though usurp'd by might, The property is in the Saint, From whom th' injuriously detain 't; Of him they hold their luxuries, Their dogs, their horses, whores, and dice, 1015 Their riots, revels, masks, delights, Pimps, buffoons, fiddlers, parasites; All which the Saints have title to, And ought t' enjoy, if th' had their due. What we take from them is no more 1020 Than what was our's by right before; For we are their true landlords still, And they our tenants but at will. At this the Knight began to rouze, And by degrees grow valorous. 1025 He star'd about, and seeing none Of all his foes remain, but one, He snatch'd his weapon, that lay near him, And from the ground began to rear him; Vowing to make CROWDERO pay 1030 For all the rest that ran away. But RALPHO now, in colder blood, His fury mildly thus withstood: Great Sir, quoth he, your mighty spirit Is rais'd too high: this slave does merit 1035 To be the hangman's bus'ness, sooner Than from your hand to have the honour Of his destruction. I, that am A nothingness in deed and name Did scorn to hurt his forfeit carcase, 1040 Or ill intreat his fiddle or case: Will you, great Sir, that glory blot In cold blood which you gain'd in hot? Will you employ your conqu'ring sword To break a fiddle and your word? 1045 For though I fought, and overcame, And quarter gave, 'twas in your name. For great commanders only own What's prosperous by the soldier done. To save, where you have pow'r to kill, 1050 Argues your pow'r above your will; And that your will and pow'r have less Than both might have of selfishness. This pow'r which, now alive, with dread He trembles at, if he were dead, 1055 Wou'd no more keep the slave in awe, Than if you were a Knight of straw: For death would then be his conqueror; Not you, and free him from that terror. If danger from his life accrue; 1060 Or honour from his death, to you, 'Twere policy, and honour too, To do as you resolv'd to do: But, Sir, 'twou'd wrong your valour much, To say it needs or fears a crutch. 1065 Great conquerors greater glory gain By foes in triumph led, than slain: The laurels that adorn their brows Are pull'd from living not dead boughs, And living foes: the greatest fame 1070 Of cripple slain can be but lame. One half of him's already slain, The other is not worth your pain; Th' honour can but on one side light, As worship did, when y' were dubb'd Knight. 1075 Wherefore I think it better far To keep him prisoner of war; And let him fast in bonds abide, At court of Justice to be try'd; Where, if he appear so bold and crafty, 1080 There may be danger in his safety. If any member there dislike His face, or to his beard have pique; Or if his death will save or yield, Revenge or fright, it is reveal'd. 1085 Though he has quarter, ne'er the less Y' have power to hang him when you please. This has been often done by some Of our great conqu'rors, you know whom; And has by most of us been held 1090 Wise Justice, and to some reveal'd. For words and promises, that yoke The conqueror, are quickly broke; Like SAMPSON's cuffs, though by his own Direction and advice put on. 1095 For if we should fight for the CAUSE By rules of military laws, And only do what they call just, The Cause would quickly fall to dust. This we among ourselves may speak; 1100 But to the wicked, or the weak, We must be cautious to declare Perfection-truths, such as these are. This said, the high outrageous mettle Of Knight began to cool and settle. 1105 He lik'd the Squire's advice, and soon Resolv'd to see the business done And therefore charg'd him first to bind CROWDERO'S hands on rump behind, And to its former place and use, 1110 The wooden member to reduce But force it take an oath before, Ne'er to bear arms against him more. RALPHO dispatch'd with speedy haste, And having ty'd CROWDERO fast, 1115 He gave Sir Knight the end of cord, To lead the captive of his sword In triumph, whilst the steeds he caught, And them to further service brought. The Squire in state rode on before, 1120 And on his nut-brown whinyard bore The trophee-fiddle and the case, Leaning on shoulder like a mace. The Knight himself did after ride, Leading CROWDERO by his side; 1125 And tow'd him, if he lagg'd behind, Like boat against the tide and wind. Thus grave and solemn they march'd on, Until quite thro' the town th' had gone; At further end of which there stands 1130 An ancient castle, that commands Th' adjacent parts: in all the fabrick You shall not see one stone nor a brick; But all of wood; by pow'rful spell Of magic made impregnable. 1135 There's neither iron-bar nor gate, Portcullis, chain, nor bolt, nor grate, And yet men durance there abide, In dungeon scarce three inches wide; With roof so low, that under it 1140 They never stand, but lie or sit; And yet so foul, that whoso is in, Is to the middle-leg in prison; In circle magical conflu'd, With walls of subtile air and wind, 1145 Which none are able to break thorough, Until they're freed by head of borough. Thither arriv'd, th' advent'rous Knight And bold Squire from their steeds alight At th' outward wall, near which there stands 1150 A bastile, built to imprison hands; By strange enchantment made to fetter The lesser parts and free the greater; For though the body may creep through, The hands in grate are fast enough: 1155 And when a circle 'bout the wrist Is made by beadle exorcist, The body feels the spur and switch, As if 'twere ridden post by witch At twenty miles an hour pace, 1160 And yet ne'er stirs out of the place. On top of this there is a spire, On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire The fiddle and its spoils, the case, In manner of a trophee place. 1165 That done, they ope the trap-door gate, And let CROWDERO down thereat; CROWDERO making doleful face, Like hermit poor in pensive place. To dungeon they the wretch commit, 1170 And the survivor of his feet But th' other, that had broke the peace And head of Knighthood, they release; Though a delinquent false and forged, Yet be'ing a stranger, he's enlarged; 1175 While his comrade, that did no hurt, Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't. So Justice, while she winks at crimes, Stumbles on innocence sometimes. NOTES TO PART I. CANTO II. 47 x That is to say, whether Tollulation, As they do term't, or Succussation. Tollulation and succussation are only Latin words for ambling and trotting; though I believe both were natural amongst the old Romans; since I never read they made use of the trammel, or any other art, to pace their horses. 60 y As Indian Britons, &c.] The American Indians call a great bird they have, with a white head, a penguin, which signifies the same thing in the British tongue: from whence (with other words of the same kind) some authors have endeavoured to prove, that the Americans are originally derived from the Britons. 65 z The dire, &c.] Pharsalia is a city of Thessaly, famous for the battle won by Julius Caesar against Pompey the Great, in the neighbouring plains, in the 607th year of Rome, of which read Lucan's Pharsalia. 129 a Chiron, the &c.] Chiron, a Centaur, son to Saturn and Phillyris, living in the mountains, where, being much given to hunting, he became very knowing in the virtues of plants and one of the most famous physicians of his time. He imparted his skill to AEsculapius and was afterwards Apollo's governor, until being wounded by Hercules, and desiring to die, Jupiter placed him in heaven, where he forms the sign of Sagittarius or the Archer. 133 b In Staffordshire, where virtuous Worth Does raise the Minstrelsy, not Birth, &c. The whole history of this ancient ceremony you may read at large in Dr. Plot's History of Staffordshire, under the town Tutbury. 155 c Grave as, &c.] For the history of Pegu, read Mandelsa and Olearius's Travels. 172 In military, &c.] Paris Garden, in Southwark, took its name from the possessor. 231 Though by, &c.] Promethean fire. Prometheus was the son of Iapetus, and brother of Atlas, concerning whom the poets have feigned, that having first formed men of the earth and water, he stole fire from heaven to put life into them; and that having thereby displeased Jupiter, he commanded Vulcan to tie him to mount Caucasus with iron chains, and that a vulture should prey upon his liver continually: but the truth of the story is, that Prometheus was an astrologer, and constant in observing the stars upon that mountain; and, that, among other things, he found the art of making fire, either by the means of a flint, or by contracting the sun-beams in a glass. Bochart will have Magog, in the Scripture, to be the Prometheus of the Pagans. He here and before sarcastically derides those who were great admirers of the sympathetic powder and weapon salve, which were in great repute in those days, and much promoted by the great Sir Kenelm Digby, who wrote a treatise ex professo [of his own knowledge] on that subject, and, I believe, thought what he wrote to be true, which since has been almost exploded out of the world. 267 And 'mong, &c.] Cossacks are a people that live near Poland. This name was given them for their extraordinary nimbleness; for cosa, or kosa, in the Polish tongue, signifies a goat. He that would know more of them, may read Le Laboreur and Thuldenus. 275 And tho', &c.] This custom of the Huns is described by Ammianus Marcellinus, Hunni semicruda cujusvis Pecoris carne vescuntur, quasi inter femora sua & equorum terga subsertam, calefacient brevi. P. 686. [The Huns stoutheartedly eat half-raw meat, which is warned briefly by being hedl between their thighs and their hoeses' backs.] 283 - -- He spous'd in India, Of noble House, a Lady gay. The Story in Le Blanc, of a bear that married a king's daughter, is no more strange than many others, in most travellers, that pass with allowance; for if they should write nothing but what is possible, or probable, they might appear to have lost their labour, and observed nothing but what they might have done as well at home. 343 In MAGIC he was deeply read, As he that made the Brazen-Head; Profoundly skill'd in the Black Art; As ENGLISH MERLIN for his Heart. Roger Bacon and Merlin. See Collier's Dictionary. 368 d As JOAN, &c.] Two notorious women; the last was known here by the name of Moll Cutpurse. 378 e Than the Amazonian, &c.] Penthesile, Queen of the Amazons, succeeded Orythia. She carried succours to the Trojans, and after having given noble proofs of her bravery, was killed by Achilles. Pliny saith, it was she that invented the battle-ax. If any one desire to know more of the Amazons, let him read Mr. Sanson. 385 f They wou'd not suffer the stout'st Dame To swear by HERCULES's Name. The old Romans had particular oaths for men and women to swear by, and therefore Macrobius says, Viri per Castorum non jurabant antiquitus, nec Mulieres per Herculem; AEdepol autem juramentum erat tum mulieribus, quam viris commune, &c. [Men did not swear by Castor in ancient times, nor women by Hercules; however women swore by AEdepol as much as men did.] 393 g As stout, &c.] Two formidable women at arms, in romances, that were cudgelled into love by their gallants. 395 h Of GUNDIBERT &c.] Gundibert is a feigned name, made use of by Sir William d' Avenant in his famous epic poem, so called; wherein you may find also that of his mistress. This poem was designed by the author to be an imitation of the English Drama: it being divided into five books, as the other is into five acts; the Cantos to be parallel of the scenes, with this difference, that this is delivered narratively, the other dialoguewise. It was ushered into the world by a large preface, written by Mr. Hobbes, and by the pens of two of our best poets, viz. Mr. Waller and Mr. Cowley, which one would have thought might have proved a sufficient defence and protection against snarling critics. Notwithstanding which, four eminent wits of that age (two of which were Sir John Denham and Mr. Donne) published several copies of verses to Sir William's discredit, under this title, Certain Verses written by several of the Author's Friends, to be reprinted with the second Edition of Gundibert in 8vo. Lond. 1653. These verses were as wittily answered by the author, under this title, The incomparable Poem of Gundibert vindicated from the Wit Combat of four Esquires, Clinias, Damoetas, Sancho, and Jack-Pudding; printed in 8vo. Lond. 1665, Vide Langbain's Account of Dramatic Poets. 496 i What OEstrum, &c.] OEstrum is not only a Greek word for madness, but signifies also a gad-bee or horse-fly, that torments cattle in the summer, and makes them run about as if they were mad. 525 k Wore in their Hats, &c.] Some few days after the King had accus'd the five Members of Treason in the House of Commons, great Crowds of the rabble came down to Westminster-Hall, with printed copies of the Protestation tied in their hats like favours. 526 l When 'twas resolv'd by either House Six Members Quarrel to espouse. The six Members were the Lord Kimbolton, Mr. Pym, Mr. Hollis, Mr. Hampden, Sir Arthur Haslerig, and Mr. Stroud, whom the King ordered to be apprehended, and their papers seized; charging them of plotting with the Scots, and favouring the late tumults; but the House voted against the arrest of their persons or papers; whereupon the King having preferred articles against those Members, he went with his guard to the House to demand them; but they, having notice, withdrew. 578 m Make that, &c.] Abusive or insulting had been better; but our Knight believed the learned language more convenient to understand in than his own Mother-tongue. 650 n And is indeed the self same Case With theirs that swore t' Et caeteras. The Convocation, in one of the short Parliaments, that ushered in the long one, (as dwarfs are wont to do knights-errant,) made an oath to be taken by the clergy for observing canonical obedience; in which they enjoined their brethren, out of the abundance of their consciences, to swear to articles with, &c. 652 o Or the French League, in which men vow'd To fight to the last Drop of Blood. The Holy League in France, designed and made for the extirpation of the Protestant Religion, was the original out of which the Solemn League and Covenant here was (with the difference only of circumstances) most faithfully transcribed. Nor did the success of both differ more than the intent and purpose; for after the destruction of vast numbers of people of all sorts, both ended with the murder of two Kings, whom they had both sworn to defend: And as our Covenanters swore every man to run one before another in the way of Reformation, so did the French, in the Holy League, to fight to the last drop of blood. PART I. CANTO III. THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The scatter'd rout return and rally, Surround the place; the Knight does sally, And is made pris'ner: Then they seize Th' inchanted fort by storm; release Crowdero, and put the Squire in's place; I should have first said Hudibras. ------------------------------------------------- Ah me! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron! What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps Do dog him still with after-claps! For though dame Fortune seem to smile 5 And leer upon him for a while, She'll after shew him, in the nick Of all his glories, a dog-trick. This any man may sing or say, I' th' ditty call'd, What if a Day? 10 For HUDIBRAS, who thought h' had won The field, as certain as a gun; And having routed the whole troop, With victory was cock a-hoop; Thinking h' had done enough to purchase 15 Thanksgiving-day among the Churches, Wherein his mettle, and brave worth, Might be explain'd by Holder-forth, And register'd, by fame eternal, In deathless pages of diurnal; 20 Found in few minutes, to his cost, He did but count without his host; And that a turn-stile is more certain Than, in events of war, dame Fortune. For now the late faint-hearted rout, 25 O'erthrown, and scatter'd round about, Chas'd by the horror of their fear From bloody fray of Knight and Bear, (All but the dogs, who, in pursuit Of the Knight's victory, stood to't, 30 And most ignobly fought to get The honour of his blood and sweat,) Seeing the coast was free and clear O' th' conquer'd and the conqueror, Took heart again, and fac'd about, 35 As if they meant to stand it out: For by this time the routed Bear, Attack'd by th' enemy i' th' rear, Finding their number grew too great For him to make a safe retreat, 40 Like a bold chieftain, fac'd about; But wisely doubting to hold out, Gave way to Fortune, and with haste Fac'd the proud foe, and fled, and fac'd; Retiring still, until he found 45 H' had got the advantage of the ground; And then as valiantly made head To check the foe, and forthwith fled; Leaving no art untry'd, nor trick Of warrior stout and politick, 50 Until, in spite of hot pursuit, He gain'd a pass to hold dispute On better terms, and stop the course Of the proud foe. With all his force He bravely charg'd, and for a while 55 Forc'd their whole body to recoil; But still their numbers so increas'd, He found himself at length oppress'd, And all evasions, so uncertain, To save himself for better fortune, 60 That he resolv'd, rather than yield, To die with honour in the field, And sell his hide and carcase at A price as high and desperate As e'er he could. This resolution 65 He forthwith put in execution, And bravely threw himself among The enemy i' th' greatest throng. But what cou'd single valour do Against so numerous a foe? 70 Yet much he did indeed, too much To be believ'd, where th' odds were such. But one against a multitude Is more than mortal can make good. For while one party he oppos'd, 75 His rear was suddenly inclos'd; And no room left him for retreat, Or fight against a foe so great. For now the mastives, charging home, To blows and handy gripes were come: 80 While manfully himself he bore, And setting his right-foot before, He rais'd himself, to shew how tall His person was above them all. This equal shame and envy stirr'd 85 In th' enemy, that one should beard So many warriors, and so stout, As he had done, and stav'd it out, Disdaining to lay down his arms, And yield on honourable terms. 90 Enraged thus, some in the rear Attack'd him, and some ev'ry where, Till down he fell; yet falling fought, And, being down, still laid about; As WIDDRINGTON, in doleful dumps, 95 Is said to light upon his stumps. But all, alas! had been in vain, And he inevitably slain, If TRULLA and CERDON, in the nick, To rescue him had not been quick; 100 For TRULLA, who was light of foot As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot, (But not so light as to be borne Upon the ears of standing corn, Or trip it o'er the water quicker 105 Than witches, when their staves they liquor, As some report,) was got among The foremost of the martial throng; There pitying the vanquish'd Bear, She call'd to CERDON, who stood near, 110 Viewing the bloody fight; to whom, Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum-drum, And see stout Bruin all alone, By numbers basely overthrown? Such feats already h' has atchiev'd, 115 In story not to be believ'd; And 'twould to us be shame enough, Not to attempt to fetch him off. I would (quoth he) venture a limb To second thee, and rescue him: 120 But then we must about it straight, Or else our aid will come too late. Quarter he scorns, he is so stout, And therefore cannot long hold out. This said, they wav'd their weapons round 125 About their heads, to clear the ground; And joining forces, laid about So fiercely, that th' amazed rout Turn'd tale again, and straight begun, As if the Devil drove, to run. 130 Meanwhile th' approach'd th' place where Bruin Was now engag'd to mortal ruin. The conqu'ring foe they soon assail'd; First TRULLA

stav'd, and CERDON tail'd, Until their mastives loos'd their hold: 135 And yet, alas! do what they could, The worsted Bear came off with store Of bloody wounds, but all before: For as ACHILLES, dipt in pond, Was ANABAPTIZ'D free from wound, 140 Made proof against dead-doing steel All over, but the Pagan heel; So did our champion's arms defend All of him, but the other end, His head and ears, which, in the martial 145 Encounter, lost a leathern parcel For as an Austrian Archduke once Had one ear (which in ducatoons Is half the coin) in battle par'd Close to his head, so Bruin far'd; 150 But tugg'd and pull'd on th' other side, Like scriv'ner newly crucify'd; Or like the late corrected leathern Ears of the Circumcised Brethren. But gentle TRULLA into th' ring 155 He wore in's nose convey'd a string, With which she march'd before, and led The warrior to a grassy bed, As authors write, in a cool shade, Which eglantine and roses made; 160 Close by a softly murm'ring stream, Where lovers us'd to loll and dream. There leaving him to his repose, Secured from pursuit of foes, And wanting nothing but a song, 165 And a well-tun'd theorbo hung Upon a bough, to ease the pain His tugg'd ears suffer'd, with a strain, They both drew up, to march in quest Of his great leader and the rest. 170 For ORSIN (who was more renown'd For stout maintaining of his ground In standing fight, than for pursuit, As being not so quick of foot) Was not long able to keep pace 175 With others that pursu'd the chace; But found himself left far behind, Both out of heart and out of wind: Griev'd to behold his Bear pursu'd So basely by a multitude; 180 And like to fall, not by the prowess, But numbers of his coward foes. He rag'd, and kept as heavy a coil as Stout HERCULES for loss of HYLAS; Forcing the vallies to repeat 185 The accents of his sad regret. He beat his breast, and tore his hair, For loss of his dear Crony Bear; That Eccho, from the hollow ground, His doleful wailings did resound 190 More wistfully, by many times, Than in small poets splay-foot rhimes That make her, in their rueful stories To answer to int'rogatories, And most unconscionably depose 195 To things of which she nothing knows; And when she has said all she can say, 'Tis wrested to the lover's fancy. Quoth he, O whither, wicked Bruin Art thou fled to my -- Eccho, Ruin? 200 I thought th' hadst scorn'd to budge a step For fear. (Quoth Eccho) Marry guep. Am not I here to take thy part? Then what has quelled thy stubborn heart? Have these bones rattled, and this head 205 So often in thy quarrel bled? Nor did I ever winch or grudge it, For thy dear sake. (Quoth she) Mum budget Think'st thou 'twill not be laid i' th' dish Thou turn'dst thy back? Quoth Eccho, Fish. 210 To run from those t'hast overcome Thus cowardly? Quoth Eccho, Mum. But what a vengeance makes thee fly From me too, as thine enemy? Or if thou hast no thought of me, 215 Nor what I have endur'd for thee, Yet shame and honour might prevail To keep thee thus from turning tail: For who would grudge to spend his blood in His honour's cause? Quoth she, A puddin. 220 This said, his grief to anger turn'd, Which in his manly stomach burn'd; Thirst of revenge, and wrath, in place Of sorrow, now began to blaze. He vow'd the authors of his woe 225 Should equal vengeance undergo; And with their bones and flesh pay dear For what he suffer'd, and his Bear. This b'ing resolv'd, with equal speed And rage he hasted to proceed 230 To action straight, and giving o'er To search for Bruin any more, He went in quest of HUDIBRAS, To find him out where-e'er he was; And, if he were above ground, vow'd 235 He'd ferret him, lurk where be wou'd. But scarce had he a furlong on This resolute adventure gone, When he encounter'd with that crew Whom HUDIBRAS did late subdue. 240 Honour, revenge, contempt, and shame, Did equally their breasts inflame. 'Mong these the fierce MAGNANO was, And TALGOL, foe to HUDIBRAS; CERDON and COLON, warriors stout, 245 As resolute, as ever fought; Whom furious ORSIN thus bespoke: Shall we (quoth be) thus basely brook The vile affront that paltry ass, And feeble scoundrel, HUDIBRAS, 250 With that more paltry ragamuffin, RALPHO, with vapouring and huffing, Have put upon us like tame cattle, As if th' had routed us in battle? For my part, it shall ne'er be said, 255 I for the washing gave my bead: Nor did I turn my back for fear O' th' rascals, but loss of my Bear, Which now I'm like to undergo; For whether those fell wounds, or no 260 He has receiv'd in fight, are mortal, Is more than all my skill can foretell Nor do I know what is become Of him, more than the Pope of Rome. But if I can but find them out 265 That caus'd it (as I shall, no doubt, Where-e'er th' in hugger-mugger lurk) I'll make them rue their handy-work; And wish that they had rather dar'd To pull the Devil by the beard. 270 Quoth CERD0N, Noble ORSIN, th' hast Great reason to do as thou say'st, And so has ev'ry body here, As well as thou hast, or thy Bear. Others may do as they see good; 275 But if this twig be made of wood That will hold tack, I'll make the fur Fly 'bout the ears of that old cur; And the other mungrel vermin, RALPH, That brav'd us all in his behalf. 280 Thy Bear is safe, and out of peril, Though lugg'd indeed, and wounded very ill; Myself and TRULLA made a shift To help him out at a dead lift; And, having brought him bravely off, 285 Have left him where he's safe enough: There let him rest; for if we stay, The slaves may hap to get away. This said, they all engag'd to join Their forces in the same design; 290 And forthwith put themselves in search Of HUDIBRAS upon their march. Where leave we awhile, to tell What the victorious knight befel. For such, CROWDERO being fast 295 In dungeon shut, we left him last. Triumphant laurels seem'd to grow No where so green as on his brow; Laden with which, as well as tir'd With conquering toil, he now retir'd 300 Unto a neighb'ring castle by, To rest his body, and apply Fit med'cines to each glorious bruise He got in fight, reds, blacks, and blues, To mollify th' uneasy pang 305 Of ev'ry honourable bang, Which b'ing by skilful midwife drest, He laid him down to take his rest. But all in vain. H' had got a hurt O' th' inside, of a deadlier sort, 310 By CUPID made, who took his stand Upon a Widow's jointure land, (For he, in all his am'rous battels, No 'dvantage finds like goods and chattels,) Drew home his bow, and, aiming right, 315 Let fly an arrow at the Knight: The shaft against a rib did glance, And gall'd him in the purtenance. But time had somewhat 'swag'd his pain, After he found his suit in vain. 320 For that proud dame, for whom his soul Was burnt in's belly like a coal, (That belly which so oft did ake And suffer griping for her sake, Till purging comfits and ants-eggs 325 Had almost brought him off his legs,) Us'd him so like a base rascallion, That old Pyg -- (what d'y' call him) malion, That cut his mistress out of stone, Had not so hard a-hearted one. 330 She had a thousand jadish tricks, Worse than a mule that flings and kicks; 'Mong which one cross-grain'd freak she had, As insolent as strange and mad; She could love none, but only such 335 As scorn'd and hated her as much. 'Twas a strange riddle of a lady: Not love, if any lov'd her! Hey dey! So cowards never use their might, But against such as will not fight; 340 So some diseases have been found Only to seize upon the sound. He that gets her by heart, must say her The back way, like a witch's prayer. Mean while the Knight had no small task 345 To compass what he durst not ask. He loves, but dares not make the motion; Her ignorance is his devotion: Like caitiff vile, that, for misdeed, Rides with his face to rump of steed, 350 Or rowing scull, he's fain to love, Look one way, and another move; Or like a tumbler, that does play His game, and look another way, Until he seize upon the cony; 355 Just so he does by matrimony: But all in vain; her subtle snout Did quickly wind his meaning out; Which she return'd with too much scorn To be by man of honour borne: 360 Yet much he bore, until the distress He suffer'd from his spightful mistress Did stir his stomach; and the pain He had endur'd from her disdain, Turn'd to regret so resolute, 365 That he resolv'd to wave his suit, And either to renounce her quite, Or for a while play least in sight. This resolution b'ing put on, He kept some months, and more had done; 370 But being brought so nigh by Fate, The victory he atchiev'd so late Did set his thoughts agog, and ope A door to discontinu'd hope, That seem'd to promise he might win 375 His dame too, now his hand was in; And that his valour, and the honour H' had newly gain'd, might work upon her. These reasons made his mouth to water With am'rous longings to be at her. 380 Quoth he, unto himself, Who knows, But this brave conquest o'er my foes May reach her heart, and make that stoop, As I but now have forc'd the troop? If nothing can oppugn love, 385 And virtue invious ways can prove, What may he not confide to do That brings both love and virtue too? But thou bring'st valour too and wit; Two things that seldom fail to hit. 390 Valour's a mouse-trap, wit a gin, Which women oft are taken in. Then, HUDIBRAS, why should'st thou fear To be, that art a conqueror? Fortune th' audacious doth juvare, 395 But lets the timidous miscarry. Then while the honour thou hast got Is spick and span new, piping hot, Strike her up bravely, thou hadst best, And trust thy fortune with the rest. 400 Such thoughts as these the Knight did keep, More than his bangs or fleas, from sleep. And as an owl, that in a barn Sees a mouse creeping in the corn, Sits still, and shuts his round blue eyes, 405 As if he slept, until he spies The little beast within his reach, Then starts, and seizes on the wretch; So from his couch the Knight did start To seize upon the widow's heart; 410 Crying with hasty tone, and hoarse, RALPHO, dispatch; To Horse, To Horse. And 'twas but time; for now the rout, We left engag'd to seek him out, By speedy marches, were advanc'd 415 Up to the fort, where he ensconc'd; And all th' avenues had possest About the place, from east to west. That done, a while they made a halt, To view the ground, and where t' assault: 420 Then call'd a council, which was best, By siege or onslaught, to invest The enemy; and 'twas agreed, By storm and onslaught to proceed. This b'ing resolv'd, in comely sort 425 They now drew up t' attack the fort; When HUDIBRAS, about to enter Upon another-gates adventure, To RALPHO call'd aloud to arm, Not dreaming of approaching storm. 430 Whether Dame Fortune, or the care Of Angel bad or tutelar, Did arm, or thrust him on a danger To which he was an utter stranger; That foresight might, or might not, blot 435 The glory he had newly got; For to his shame it might be said, They took him napping in his bed; To them we leave it to expound, That deal in sciences profound. 440 His courser scarce he had bestrid, And RALPHO that on which he rid, When setting ope the postern gate, Which they thought best to sally at, The foe appear'd, drawn up and drill'd, 445 Ready to charge them in the field. This somewhat startled the bold Knight, Surpriz'd with th' unexpected sight. The bruises of his bones and flesh The thought began to smart afresh; 450 Till recollecting wonted courage, His fear was soon converted to rage, And thus he spoke: The coward foe, Whom we but now gave quarter to, Look, yonder's rally'd, and appears 455 As if they had out-run their fears. The glory we did lately get, The Fates command us to repeat; And to their wills we must succumb, Quocunque trahunt, 'tis our doom. 460 This is the same numeric crew Which we so lately did subdue; The self-same individuals that Did run as mice do from a cat, When we courageously did wield 465 Our martial weapons in the field To tug for victory; and when We shall our shining blades agen Brandish in terror o'er our heads, They'll straight resume their wonted dreads. 470 Fear is an ague, that forsakes And haunts by fits those whom it takes: And they'll opine they feel the pain And blows they felt to-day again. Then let us boldly charge them home, 475 And make no doubt to overcome. This said, his courage to inflame, He call'd upon his mistress' name. His pistol next he cock'd a-new, And out his nut-brown whinyard drew; 480 And, placing RALPHO in the front, Reserv'd himself to bear the brunt, As expert warriors use: then ply'd With iron heel his courser's side, Conveying sympathetic speed 485 From heel of Knight to heel of Steed. Mean while the foe, with equal rage And speed, advancing to engage, Both parties now were drawn so close, Almost to come to handy-blows; 490 When ORSIN first let fly a stone At RALPHO: not so huge a one As that which DIOMED did maul AENEAS on the bum withal Yet big enough if rightly hurl'd, 495 T' have sent him to another world, Whether above-ground, or below, Which Saints Twice Dipt are destin'd to. The danger startled the bold Squire, And made him some few steps retire. 500 But HUDIBRAS advanc'd to's aid, And rouz'd his spirits, half dismay'd. He wisely doubting lest the shot Of th' enemy, now growing hot, Might at a distance gall, press'd close, 505 To come pell-mell to handy-blows, And, that he might their aim decline, Advanc'd still in an oblique line; But prudently forbore to fire, Till breast to breast he had got nigher, 510 As expert warriors use to do When hand to hand they charge their foe. This order the advent'rous Knight, Most soldier-like, observ'd in fight, When fortune (as she's wont) turn'd fickle, 515 And for the foe began to stickle. The more shame for her Goody-ship, To give so near a friend the slip. For COLON, choosing out a stone, Levell'd so right, it thump'd upon 520 His manly paunch with such a force, As almost beat him off his horse. He lost his whinyard, and the rein; But, laying fast hold of the mane, Preserv'd his seat; and as a goose 525 In death contracts his talons close, So did the Knight, and with one claw The trigger of his pistol draw. The gun went off: and as it was Still fatal to stout HUDIBRAS, 530 In all his feats of arms, when least He dreamt of it, to prosper best, So now he far'd: the shot, let fly At random 'mong the enemy, Pierc'd TALGOL's gaberdine, and grazing 535 Upon his shoulder, in the passing, Lodg'd in MAGNANO's brass habergeon, Who straight, A Surgeon, cry'd, A Surgeon. He tumbled down, and, as he fell, Did Murther, Murther, Murther, yell. 540 This startled their whole body so, That if the Knight had not let go His arms, but been in warlike plight, H' had won (the second time) the fight; As, if the Squire had but fall'n on, 545 He had inevitably done: But he, diverted with the care Or HUDIBRAS his hurt, forbare To press th' advantage of his fortune While danger did the rest dishearten: 550 For he with CERDON b'ing engag'd In close encounter, they both wag'd The fight so well, 'twas hard to say Which side was like to get the day. And now the busy work of death 555 Had tir'd them so, th' agreed to breath, Preparing to renew the fight, When the disaster of the Knight, And th' other party, did divert Their fell intent, and forc'd them part. 560 RALPHO press'd up to HUDIBRAS, And CERDON where MAGNANO was; Each striving to confirm his party With stout encouragements, and hearty. Quoth RALIHO, Courage, valiant Sir, 565 And let revenge and honour stir Your spirits up: once we fall on, The shatter'd foe begins to run: For if but half so well you knew To use your victory as subdue, 570 They durst not, after such a blow As you have given them, face us now; But from so formidable a soldier Had fled like crows when they smell powder. Thrice have they seen your sword aloft 575 Wav'd o'er their heads, and fled as oft. But if you let them recollect Their spirits, now dismay'd and checkt, You'll have a harder game to play Than yet y' have had to get the day. 580 Thus spoke the stout Squire; but was heard By HUDIBRAS with small regard. His thoughts were fuller of the bang Be lately took than RALPH'S harangue; To which he answer'd, Cruel Fate 585 Tells me thy counsel comes too late. The knotted blood within my hose, That from my wounded body flows, With mortal crisis doth portend My days to appropinque an end. 590 I am for action now unfit, Either of fortitude or wit: Fortune, my foe, begins to frown, Resolv'd to pull my stomach down. I am not apt, upon a wound, 595 Or trivial basting, to despond: Yet I'd be loth my days to curtail: For if I thought my wounds not mortal, Or that we'd time enough as yet, To make an hon'rable retreat, 600 'Twere the best course: but if they find We fly, and leave our arms behind For them to seize on, the dishonour, And danger too, is such, I'll sooner Stand to it boldly, and take quarter, 605 To let them see I am no starter. In all the trade of war, no feat Is nobler than a brave retreat: For those that run away, and fly, Take place at least of th' enemy. 610 This said, the Squire, with active speed Dismounted from his bonny steed, To seize the arms, which, by mischance, Fell from the bold Knight in a trance. These being found out, and restor'd 615 To HUDIBRAS their natural lord, As a man may say, with might and main, He hasted to get up again. Thrice he assay'd to mount aloft, But, by his weighty bum, as oft 620 He was pull'd back, till having found Th' advantage of the rising ground, Thither he led his warlike steed, And having plac'd him right, with speed Prepar'd again to scale the beast, 625 When ORSIN, who had newly drest The bloody scar upon the shoulder Of TALGOL with Promethean powder, And now was searching for the shot That laid MAGNANO on the spot, 630 Beheld the sturdy Squire aforesaid Preparing to climb up his horse side. He left his cure, and laying hold Upon his arms, with courage bold, Cry'd out, 'Tis now no time to dally, 635 The enemy begin to rally: Let us, that are unhurt and whole, Fall on, and happy man be's dole. This said, like to a thunderbolt, He flew with fury to th' assault, 640 Striving the enemy to attack Before he reach'd his horse's back. RALPHO was mounted now, and gotten O'erthwart his beast with active vau'ting, Wrigling his body to recover 645 His seat, and cast his right leg over, When ORSIN, rushing in, bestow'd On horse and man so heavy a load, The beast was startled, and begun To kick and fling like mad, and run, 650 Bearing the tough Squire like a sack, Or stout king RICHARD, on his back, 'Till stumbling, he threw him down, Sore bruis'd, and cast into a swoon. Meanwhile the Knight began to rouze 655 The sparkles of his wonted prowess. He thrust his hand into his hose, And found, both by his eyes and nose, 'Twas only choler, and not blood, That from his wounded body flow'd. 660 This, with the hazard of the Squire, Inflam'd him with despightful ire. Courageously he fac'd about. And drew his other pistol out, And now had half way bent the cock, 665 When CERDON gave so fierce a shock, With sturdy truncheon, thwart his arm, That down it fell, and did no harm; Then stoutly pressing on with speed, Assay'd to pull him off his steed. 670 The Knight his sword had only left, With which he CERDON'S head had cleft, Or at the least cropt off a limb, But ORSIN came, and rescu'd him. He, with his lance, attack'd the Knight 675 Upon his quarters opposite. But as a barque, that in foul weather, Toss'd by two adverse winds together, Is bruis'd, and beaten to and fro, And knows not which to turn him to; 680 So far'd the Knight between two foes, And knew not which of them t'oppose; Till ORSIN, charging with his lance At HUDIBRAS, by spightful chance, Hit CERDON such a bang, as stunn'd 685 And laid him flat upon the ground. At this the Knight began to chear up, And, raising up himself on stirrup, Cry'd out, Victoria! Lie thou there, And I shall straight dispatch another, 690 To bear thee company in death: But first I'll halt a while, and breath: As well he might; for ORSIN, griev'd At th' wound that CERDON had receiv'd, Ran to relieve him with his lore, 695 And cure the hurt he gave before. Mean while the Knight had wheel'd about, To breathe himself, and next find out Th' advantage of the ground, where best He might the ruffled foe infest. 700 This b'ing resolv'd, he spurr'd his steed, To run at ORSIN with full speed, While he was busy in the care Of CERDON'S wound, and unaware: But he was quick, and had already 705 Unto the part apply'd remedy: And, seeing th' enemy prepar'd, Drew up, and stood upon his guard. Then, like a warrior right expert And skilful in the martial art, 710 The subtle Knight straight made a halt, And judg'd it best to stay th' assault, Until he had reliev'd the Squire, And then in order to retire; Or, as occasion should invite, 715 With forces join'd renew the fight. RALPHO, by this time disentranc'd, Upon his bum himself advanc'd, Though sorely bruis'd; his limbs all o'er With ruthless bangs were stiff and sore. 720 Right fain he would have got upon His feet again, to get him gone; When HUDIBRAS to aid him came: Quoth he (and call'd him by his name,) Courage! the day at length is ours; 725 And we once more, as conquerors, Have both the field and honour won: The foe is profligate, and run. I mean all such as can; for some This hand hath sent to their long home; 730 And some lie sprawling on the ground, With many a gash and bloody wound. CAESAR himself could never say He got two victories in a day, As I have done, that can say, Twice I 735 In one day, Veni, Vidi, Vici. The foe's so numerous, that we Cannot so often vincere As they perire, and yet enow Be left to strike an after-blow; 740 Then, lest they rally, and once more Put us to fight the bus'ness o'er, Get up, and mount thy steed: Dispatch, And let us both their motions watch. Quoth RALPH, I should not, if I were 745 In case for action, now be here: Nor have I turn'd my back, or hang'd An arse, for fear of being bang'd. It was for you I got these harms, Advent'ring to fetch off your arms. 750 The blows and drubs I have receiv'd Have bruis'd my body, and bereav'd My limbs of strength. Unless you stoop, And reach your hand to pull me up, I shall lie here, and be a prey 755 To those who now are run away. That thou shalt not, (quoth HUDIBRAS;) We read, the ancients held it was More honourable far, servare Civem, than slay an adversary: 760 The one we oft to-day have done, The other shall dispatch anon: And though th' art of a diff'rent Church I will not leave thee in the lurch. This said, he jogg'd his good steed nigher, 765 And steer'd him gently toward the Squire; Then bowing down his body, stretch'd His hand out, and at RALPHO reach'd; When TRULLA, whom he did not mind, Charg'd him like lightening behind. 770 She had been long in search about MAGNANO'S wound, to find it out; But could find none, nor where the shot, That had so startled him, was got But having found the worst was past, 775 She fell to her own work at last, The pillage of the prisoners, Which in all feats of arms was hers; And now to plunder RALPH she flew, When HUDIBRAS his hard fate drew 780 To succour him; for, as he bow'd To help him up, she laid a load Of blows so heavy, and plac'd so well, On t'other side, that down he fell. Yield, scoundrel base, (quoth she,) or die: 785 Thy life is mine and liberty: But if thou think'st I took thee tardy, And dar'st presume to be so hardy, To try thy fortune o'er a-fresh, I'll wave my title to thy flesh, 790 Thy arms and baggage, now my right; And if thou hast the heart to try't, I'll lend thee back thyself a while, And once more, for that carcass vile, Fight upon tick. -- Quoth HUDIBRAS, 795 Thou offer'st nobly, valiant lass, And I shall take thee at thy word. First let me rise and take my sword. That sword which has so oft this day Through squadrons of my foes made way, 800 And some to other worlds dispatch'd, Now with a feeble spinster match'd, Will blush with blood ignoble stain'd, By which no honour's to be gain'd. But if thou'lt take m' advice in this, 805 Consider whilst thou may'st, what 'tis To interrupt a victor's course, B' opposing such a trivial force: For if with conquest I come off, (And that I shall do sure enough,) 810 Quarter thou canst not have, nor grace, By law of arms, in such a case; Both which I now do offer freely. I scorn (quoth she) thou coxcomb silly, (Clapping her hand upon her breech, 815 To shew how much she priz'd his speech,) Quarter or counsel from a foe If thou can'st force me to it, do. But lest it should again be said, When I have once more won thy head, 820 I took thee napping, unprepar'd, Arm, and betake thee to thy guard. This said, she to her tackle fell, And on the Knight let fall a peal Of blows so fierce, and press'd so home, 825 That he retir'd, and follow'd's bum. Stand to't (quoth she) or yield to mercy It is not fighting arsie-versie Shall serve thy turn. -- This stirr'd his spleen More than the danger he was in, 830 The blows he felt, or was to feel, Although th' already made him reel. Honour, despight; revenge and shame, At once into his stomach came, Which fir'd it so, he rais'd his arm 835 Above his head, and rain'd a storm Of blows so terrible and thick, As if he meant to hash her quick. But she upon her truncheon took them, And by oblique diversion broke them, 840 Waiting an opportunity To pay all back with usury; Which long she fail'd not of; for now The Knight with one dead-doing blow Resolving to decide the fight, 845 And she, with quick and cunning slight, Avoiding it, the force and weight He charged upon it was so great, As almost sway'd him to the ground. No sooner she th' advantage found, 850 But in she flew; and seconding With home-made thrust the heavy swing, She laid him flat upon his side; And mounting on his trunk a-stride, Quoth she, I told thee what would come 855 Of all thy vapouring, base scum. Say, will the law of arms allow I may have grace and quarter now? Or wilt thou rather break thy word, And stain thine honour than thy sword? 860 A man of war to damn his soul, In basely breaking his parole And when, before the fight, th' had'st vow'd To give no quarter in cold blood Now thou hast got me for a Tartar, 865 To make me 'gainst my will take quarter; Why dost not put me to the sword, But cowardly fly from thy word? Quoth HUDIBRAS, The day's thine own: Thou and thy Stars have cast me down: 870 My laurels are transplanted now, And flourish on thy conqu'ring brow: My loss of honour's great enough, Thou need'st not brand it with a scoff: Sarcasms may eclipse thine own, 875 But cannot blur my lost renown. I am not now in Fortune's power; He that is down can fall no lower. The ancient heroes were illustrious For being benign, and not blustrous, 880 Against a vanquish'd foe: their swords Were sharp and trenchant, not their words; And did in fight but cut work out To employ their courtesies about. Quoth she, Although thou hast deserv'd 885 Base slubberdegullion, to be serv'd As thou did'st vow to deal with me, If thou had'st got the victory Yet I shall rather act a part That suits my fame than thy desert. 890 Thy arms, thy liberty, beside All that's on th' outside of thy hide, Are mine by military law, Of which I will not hate one straw: The rest, thy life and limbs, once more, 895 Though doubly forfeit, I restore, Quoth HUDIBRAS, It is too late For me to treat or stipulate What thou command'st, I must obey: Yet those whom I expugn'd to-day 900 Of thine own party, I let go, And gave them life and freedom too: Both dogs and bear, upon their parole, Whom I took pris'ners in this quarrel. Quoth TRULLA, Whether thou or they 905 Let one another run away, Concerns not me; but was't not thou That gave CROWDERO quarter too? CROWDERO, whom, in irons bound, Thou basely threw'st into LOB'S Pound, 910 Where still he lies, and with regret His gen'rous bowels rage and fret. But now thy carcass shall redeem, And serve to be exchang'd for him. This said, the Knight did straight submit, 915 And laid his weapons at her feet. Next he disrob'd his gaberdine, And with it did himself resign. She took it, and forthwith divesting The mantle that she wore, said jesting, 920 Take that, and wear it for my sake Then threw it o'er his sturdy back, And as the FRENCH, we conquer'd once, Now give us laws for pantaloons, The length of breeches, and the gathers, 925 Port-cannons, perriwigs, and feathers; Just so the proud insulting lass Array'd and dighted HUDIBRAS. Mean while the other champions, yerst In hurry of the fight disperst, 930 Arriv'd, when TRULLA won the day, To share in th' honour and the prey, And out of HUDIBRAS his hide With vengeance to be satisfy'd; Which now they were about to pour 935 Upon him in a wooden show'r; But TRULLA thrust herself between, And striding o'er his back agen, She brandish'd o'er her head his sword, And vow'd they should not break her word; 940 Sh' had giv'n him quarter, and her blood Or theirs should make that quarter good; For she was bound by law of arms To see him safe from further harms. In dungeon deep CROWDERO, cast 945 By HUDIBRAS, as yet lay fast; Where, to the hard and ruthless stones, His great heart made perpetual moans: Him she resolv'd that HUDIBRAS Should ransom, and supply his place. 950 This stopt their fury, and the basting Which toward HUDIBRAS was hasting. They thought it was but just and right, That what she had atchiev'd in fight, She should dispose of how she pleas'd. 955 CROWDERO ought to be releas'd; Nor could that any way be done So well as this she pitch'd upon For who a better could imagine This therefore they resolv'd t'engage in. 960 The Knight and Squire first they made Rise from the ground, where they were laid Then mounted both upon their horses, But with their faces to the arses, ORSIN led HUDIBRAS's beast, 965 And TALGOL that which RALPHO prest, Whom stout MAGNANO, valiant CERDON, And COLON, waited as a guard on; All ush'ring TRULLA in the rear, With th' arms of either prisoner. 970 In this proud order and array They put themselves upon their way, Striving to reach th' enchanted castle, Where stout CROWDERO in durance lay still. Thither with greater speed than shows 975 And triumph over conquer'd foes Do use t' allow, or than the bears Or pageants borne before Lord-Mayors Are wont to use, they soon arriv'd In order, soldier-like contriv'd; 980 Still marching in a warlike posture, As fit for battle as for muster. The Knight and Squire they first unhorse, And bending 'gainst the fort their force, They all advanc'd, and round about 985 Begirt the magical redoubt. MAGNAN led up in this adventure, And made way for the rest to enter; For he was skilful in black art. No less than he that built the fort; 990 And with an iron mace laid flat A breach, which straight all enter'd at, And in the wooden dungeon found CROWDERO laid upon the ground. Him they release from durance base, 995 Restor'd t' his fiddle and his case, And liberty, his thirsty rage With luscious vengeance to asswage: For he no sooner was at large, But TRULLA straight brought on the charge, 1000 And in the self-same limbo put The Knight and Squire where he was shut; Where leaving them in Hockley i' th' Hole, Their bangs and durance to condole, Confin'd and conjur'd into narrow 1005 Enchanted mansion to know sorrow, In the same order and array Which they advanc'd, they march'd away. But HUDIBRAS who scorn'd to stoop To Fortune, or be said to droop, 1010 Chear'd up himself with ends of verse, And sayings of philosophers. Quoth he, Th' one half of man, his mind, Is, sui juris, unconfin'd, And cannot be laid by the heels, 1015 Whate'er the other moiety feels. 'Tis not restraint or liberty That makes men prisoners or free; But perturbations that possess The mind, or aequanimities. 1020 The whole world was not half so wide To ALEXANDER, when he cry'd, Because he had but one to subdue, As was a paltry narrow tub to DIOGENES; who is not said 1025 (For aught that ever I could read) To whine, put finger i' th' eye, and sob, Because h' had ne'er another tub. The ancients make two sev'ral kinds Of prowess in heroic minds; 1030 The active, and the passive valiant; Both which are pari libra gallant: For both to give blows, and to carry, In fights are equinecessary But in defeats, the passive stout 1035 Are always found to stand it out Most desp'rately, and to out-do The active 'gainst the conqu'ring foe. Tho' we with blacks and blues are suggill'd, Or, as the vulgar say, are cudgell'd; 1040 He that is valiant, and dares fight, Though drubb'd, can lose no honour by't. Honour's a lease for lives to come, And cannot be extended from The legal tenant: 'tis a chattel 1045 Not to be forfeited in battel. If he that in the field is slain, Be in the bed of Honour lain, He that is beaten, may be said To lie in Honour's truckle-bed. 1050 For as we see th' eclipsed sun By mortals is more gaz'd upon, Than when, adorn'd with all his light, He shines in serene sky most bright: So valour, in a low estate, 1055 Is most admir'd and wonder'd at. Quoth RALPH, How great I do not know We may by being beaten grow; But none, that see how here we sit, Will judge us overgrown with wit. 1060 As gifted brethren, preaching by A carnal hour-glass, do imply, Illumination can convey Into them what they have to say, But not how much; so well enough 1065 Know you to charge, but not draw off: For who, without a cap and bauble, Having subdu'd a bear and rabble, And might with honour have come off Would put it to a second proof? 1070 A politic exploit, right fit For Presbyterian zeal and wit. Quoth HUDIBRAS, That cuckow's tone, RALPHO, thou always harp'st upon. When thou at any thing would'st rail, 1075 Thou mak'st Presbytery the scale To take the height on't, and explain To what degree it is prophane Whats'ever will not with (thy what d'ye call) Thy light jump right, thou call'st synodical; 1080 As if Presbytery were the standard To size whats'ever's to he slander'd. Dost not remember how this day, Thou to my beard wast bold to say, That thou coud'st prove bear-baiting equal 1085 With synods orthodox and legal? Do if thou canst; for I deny't, And dare thee to 't with all thy light. Quoth RALPHO, Truly that is no Hard matter for a man to do, 1090 That has but any guts in 's brains, And cou'd believe it worth his pains; But since you dare and urge me to it, You'll find I've light enough to do it. Synods are mystical bear-gardens, 1095 Where elders, deputies, church-wardens, And other members of the court, Manage the Babylonish sport; For prolocutor, scribe, and bear-ward, Do differ only in a mere word; 1100 Both are but sev'ral synagogues Of carnal men, and bears, and dogs: Both antichristian assemblies, To mischief bent far as in them lies: Both stave and tail with fierce contests; 1105 The one with men, the other beasts. The diff'rence is, the one fights with The tongue, the other with the teeth; And that they bait but bears in this, In th' other, souls and consciences; 1110 Where Saints themselves are brought to stake For gospel-light, and conscience sake; Expos'd to Scribes and Presbyters, Instead of mastive dogs and curs, Than whom th' have less humanity; 1115 For these at souls of men will fly. This to the prophet did appear, Who in a vision saw a bear, Prefiguring the beastly rage Of Church-rule in this latter age; 1120 As is demonstrated at full By him that baited the Pope's Bull. Bears nat'rally are beasts of prey, That live by rapine; so do they. What are their orders, constitutions, 1125 Church-censures, curses, absolutions, But' sev'ral mystic chains they make, To tie poor Christians to the stake, And then set heathen officers, Instead of dogs, about their ears? 1130 For to prohibit and dispense; To find out or to make offence; Of Hell and Heaven to dispose; To play with souls at fast and loose; To set what characters they please, 1135 And mulcts on sin or godliness; Reduce the Church to gospel-order, By rapine, sacrilege, and murder; To make Presbytery supreme, And Kings themselves submit to them; 1140 And force all people, though against Their consciences, to turn Saints; Must prove a pretty thriving trade, When Saints monopolists are made; When pious frauds, and holy shifts, 1145 Are dispensations and gifts, Their godliness becomes mere ware, And ev'ry Synod but a fair. Synods are whelps of th' Inquisition, A mungrel breed of like pernicion, 1150 And growing up, became the sires Of scribes, commissioners, and triers; Whose bus'ness is, by cunning slight, To cast a figure for mens' light; To find, in lines of beard and face, 1155 The physiognomy of grace; And by the sound and twang of nose, If all be sound within disclose, Free from a crack or flaw of sinning, As men try pipkins by the ringing; 1160 By black caps underlaid with white, Give certain guess at inward light. Which serjeants at the gospel wear, To make the spiritual calling clear; The handkerchief about the neck 1165 (Canonical cravat of SMECK, From whom the institution came, When Church and State they set on flame, And worn by them as badges then Of spiritual warfaring men) 1170 Judge rightly if regeneration Be of the newest cut in fashion. Sure 'tis an orthodox opinion, That grace is founded in dominion. Great piety consists in pride; 1175 To rule is to be sanctified: To domineer, and to controul, Both o'er the body and the soul, Is the most perfect discipline Of church-rule, and by right-divine. 1180 Bell and the Dragon's chaplains were More moderate than these by far: For they (poor knaves) were glad to cheat, To get their wives and children meat; But these will not be fobb'd off so; 1185 They must have wealth and power too, Or else with blood and desolation They'll tear it out o' th' heart o' th' nation. Sure these themselves from primitive And Heathen Priesthood do derive, 1190 When butchers were the only Clerks, Elders and Presbyters of Kirks; Whose directory was to kill; And some believe it is so still. The only diff'rence is, that then 1195 They slaughter'd only beasts, now men. For then to sacrifice a bullock, Or now and then a child to Moloch, They count a vile abomination, But not to slaughter a whole nation. 1200 Presbytery does but translate The Papacy to a free state; A commonwealth of Popery, Where ev'ry village is a See As well as Rome, and must maintain 1205 A Tithe-pig Metropolitan; Where ev'ry Presbyter and Deacon Commands the keys for cheese and bacon; And ev'ry hamlet's governed By's Holiness, the Church's Head; 1210 More haughty and severe in's place, Than GREGORY or BONIFACE. Such Church must (surely) be a monster With many heads: for if we conster What in th' Apocalypse we find, 1215 According to th' Apostle's mind, 'Tis that the Whore of Babylon With many heads did ride upon; Which heads denote the sinful tribe Of Deacon, Priest, Lay-Elder, Scribe. 1220 Lay-Elder, SIMEON to LEVI, Whose little finger is as heavy As loins of patriarchs, prince-prelate, And bishop-secular. This zealot Is of a mungrel, diverse kind; 1225 Cleric before, and lay behind; A lawless linsie-woolsie brother, Half of one order, half another; A creature of amphibious nature; On land a beast, a fish in water; 1230 That always preys on grace or sin; A sheep without, a wolf within. This fierce inquisitor has chief Dominion over men's belief And manners: can pronounce a Saint 1235 Idolatrous or ignorant, When superciliously he sifts Through coarsest boulter others' gifts; For all men live and judge amiss, Whose talents jump not just with his. 1240 He'll lay on gifts with hands, and place On dullest noddle Light and Grace, The manufacture of the Kirk. Those pastors are but th' handy-work Of his mechanic paws, instilling 1245 Divinity in them by feeling; From whence they start up Chosen Vessels, Made by contact, as men get meazles. So Cardinals, they say, do grope At th' other end the new-made Pope. 1250 Hold, hold, quoth HUDIBRAS; soft fire, They say, does make sweet malt. Good Squire, Festina lente, not too fast; For haste (the proverb says) makes waste. The quirks and cavils thou dost make 1255 Are false, and built upon mistake: And I shall bring you, with your pack Of fallacies, t' elenchi back; And put your arguments in mood And figure to be understood. 1260 I'll force you, by right ratiocination, To leave your vitilitigation, And make you keep to th' question close, And argue dialecticos. The question then, to state it first, 1265 Is, Which is better, or which worst, Synods or Bears? Bears I avow To be the worst, and Synods thou. But, to make good th' assertion, Thou say'st th' are really all one. 1270 If so, not worst; for if th' are idem Why then, tantundem dat tantidem. For if they are the same, by course, Neither is better, neither worse. But I deny they are the same, 1275 More than a maggot and I am. That both are animalia I grant, but not rationalia: For though they do agree in kind, Specific difference we find; 1280 And can no more make bears of these, Than prove my horse is SOCRATES. That Synods are bear-gardens too, Thou dost affirm; but I say no: And thus I prove it in a word; 1285 Whats'ver assembly's not impow'r'd To censure, curse, absolve, and ordain, Can be no Synod: but bear-garden Has no such pow'r; ergo, 'tis none: And so thy sophistry's o'erthrown. 1290 But yet we are beside the question Which thou didst raise the first contest on; For that was, Whether Bears are better Than Synod-men? I say, Negatur. That bears are beasts, and synods men, 1295 Is held by all: they're better then: For bears and dogs on four legs go, As beasts, but Synod-men on two. 'Tis true, they all have teeth and nails; But prove that Synod-men have tails; 1300 Or that a rugged, shaggy fur Grows o'er the hide of Presbyter; Or that his snout and spacious ears Do hold proportion with a bear's. A bears a savage beast, of all 1305 Most ugly and unnatural Whelp'd without form, until the dam Has lick'd it into shape and frame: But all thy light can ne'er evict, That ever Synod-man was lick'd; 1310 Or brought to any other fashion, Than his own will and inclination. But thou dost further yet in this Oppugn thyself and sense; that is, Thou would'st have Presbyters to go 1315 For bears and dogs, and bearwards too; A strange chimera of beasts and men, Made up of pieces heterogene; Such as in nature never met In eodem subjecto yet. 1320 Thy other arguments are all Supposures, hypothetical, That do but beg, and we may chose Either to grant them, or refuse. Much thou hast said, which I know when 1325 And where thou stol'st from other men, Whereby 'tis plain thy Light and Gifts Are all but plagiary shifts; And is the same that Ranter said, Who, arguing with me, broke my head, 1330 And tore a handful of my beard: The self-same cavils then I heard, When, b'ing in hot dispute about This controversy, we fell out And what thou know'st I answer'd then, 1335 Will serve to answer thee agen. Quoth RALPHO, Nothing but th' abuse Of human learning you produce; Learning, that cobweb of the brain, Profane, erroneous, and vain; 1340 A trade of knowledge, as replete As others are with fraud and cheat; An art t'incumber gifts and wit, And render both for nothing fit; Makes Light unactive, dull, and troubled, 1345 Like little DAVID in SAUL's doublet; A cheat that scholars put upon Other mens' reason and their own; A fort of error, to ensconce Absurdity and ignorance, 1350 That renders all the avenues To truth impervious and abstruse, By making plain things, in debate, By art, perplex'd, and intricate For nothing goes for sense or light 1355 That will not with old rules jump right: As if rules were not in the schools Deriv'd from truth, but truth from rules. This pagan, heathenish invention Is good for nothing but contention. 1360 For as, in sword-and-buckler fight, All blows do on the target light; So when men argue, the great'st part O' th' contests falls on terms of art, Until the fustian stuff be spent, 1365 And then they fall to th' argument. Quoth HUDIBRAS Friend RALPH, thou hast Out-run the constable at last: For thou art fallen on a new Dispute, as senseless as untrue, 1370 But to the former opposite And contrary as black to white; Mere disparata; that concerning Presbytery; this, human learning; Two things s'averse, they never yet 1375 But in thy rambling fancy met. But I shall take a fit occasion T' evince thee by ratiocination, Some other time, in place more proper Than this we're in; therefore let's stop here, 1380 And rest our weary'd bones a-while, Already tir'd with other toil. NOTES TO PART I. CANTO III. 134 p First TRULLA stav'd, &c.] Staving and Tailing are terms of art used in the Bear-Garden, and signify there only the parting of dogs and bears: Though they are used metaphorically in several other professions, for moderating; as law, divinity, hectoring, &c. 153 q Or like the late corrected leathern Ears of the Circumcised Brethren. Pryn, Bastwick, and Burton, who laid down their ears as proxies for their profession of the godly party, not long after maintained their right and title to the pillory to be as good and lawful as theirs who first of all took possession of it in their names. 328 r That old, &c.] Pygmalion, king of Tyre, was the son of Margenus, or Mechres, whom he succeeded, and lived 56 years, wherof he reigned 47. Dido, his sister, was to have governed with him, but it was pretended the subjects thought it not convenient. She married Sichaeus, who was the king's uncle, and very rich; wherefore he put him to death; and Dido soon after departed the kingdom. Poets say, Pygmalion was punished for the hatred he bore to women with the love he had to a statue. 925 s And as the FRENCH we conquer'd once, Now give us Laws for PANTALOONS, &c. Pantaloons and Port-Cannons were some of the fantastick fashions wherein we aped the French. At quisquis Insula satus Britannica Sic patria insolens fastidiet suam, Ut more simiae laboret fingere, Et aemulari Gallicas ineptias, Et omni Gallo ego hunc opinor ebrium; Ergo ex Britanno, ut Gallus esse nititur, Sic Dii jubete, fiat ex Galle Capus. THOMAS MORE. Gallus is a river in Phrygia; rising out of the mountains of Celenae, and discharging itself into the river Sanger, the water of which is of that admirable quality, that, being moderately drank, it purges the brain, and cures madness; but largely drank, it makes men frantick. Pliny, Horatius. 1123 t A learned divine in King James's time wrote a polemick work against the Pope, and gave it that unlucky nick-name of The Pope's Bull baited. 1166 u Canonical Cravat, &c.] Smectymnuus was a club of five parlimentary holders-forth; the characters of whose names and talents were by themselves expressed in that senseless and insignificant word. They wore handkerchiefs about their necks for a mark of distinction (as the Officers of the Parliament Army then did) which afterwards degenerated into carnal cravats. About the beginning of the long Parliament, in the year 1641, these five wrote a book against Episcopacy and the Common Prayer, to which they all subscribed their names; being Stephen Marshal, Edmund Calamy, Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen, and William Spurstow, and from thence they and their followers were called Smectymnians. They are remarkable for another pious book, which they wrote some time after that, intitled, The Kings Cabinet unlocked, wherein all the chaste and endearing expressions, in the letters that passed betwixt his Majesty King Charles I. and his Royal Consort are by these painful labourers in the Devil's vineyard turned into burlesque and ridicule. Their books were answered with as much calmness and genteelness of expression, and as much learning and honesty, b. the Rev. Mr. Symonds, then a deprived clergyman, as theirs was stuffed with malice, spleen, and rascally invectives. 1249 x So Cardinals they say do grope At t'other end the new-made Pope. This relates to the story of Pope Joan, who was called John VIII. Platina saith she was of English extraction, but born at Mentz; who, having disguised herself like a man, travelled with her paramour to Athens, where she made such progress in learning, that coming to Rome, she met with few that could equal her; so that, on the death of Pope Leo IV. she was chosen to succeed him; but being got with child by one of her domesticks, her travail came upon her between the Colossian Theatre and St. Clement's, as she was going to the Lateran Church, and died upon the place, having sat two years, one month, and four days, and was buried there without any pomp. He owns that, for the shame of this, the Popes decline going through this street to the Lateran; and that, to avoid the like error, when any Pope is placed in the Porphyry Chair, his genitals are felt by the youngest deacon, through a hole made for that purpose; but he supposes the reason of that to he, to put him in mind that he is a man, and obnoxious to the necessities of nature; whence he will have the seat to be called, Sedes Stercoraria. 1262 y To leave your Vitiligation, &c.] Vitilitigation is a word the Knight was passionately in love with, and never failed to use it upon all occasions; and therefore to omit it, when it fell in the way, bad argued too great a neglect of his learning and parts; though it means no more than a perverse humour of wrangling. 1373 z Mere Disparata, &c.] Disparata are things separate and unlike, from the Latin word Disparo. PART II CANTO I THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The Knight by damnable Magician, Being cast illegally in prison, Love brings his Action on the Case. And lays it upon Hudibras. How he receives the Lady's Visit, And cunningly solicits his Suite, Which she defers; yet on Parole Redeems him from th' inchanted Hole. ------------------------------------------------- But now, t'observe a romantic method, Let bloody steel a while be sheathed, And all those harsh and rugged sounds Of bastinadoes, cuts, and wounds, Exchang'd to Love's more gentle stile, 5 To let our reader breathe a while; In which, that we may be as brief as Is possible, by way of preface, Is't not enough to make one strange, That some men's fancies should ne'er change, 10 But make all people do and say The same things still the self-same way Some writers make all ladies purloin'd, And knights pursuing like a whirlwind Others make all their knights, in fits 15 Of jealousy, to lose their wits; Till drawing blood o'th' dames, like witches, Th' are forthwith cur'd of their capriches. Some always thrive in their amours By pulling plaisters off their sores; 20 As cripples do to get an alms, Just so do they, and win their dames. Some force whole regions, in despight O' geography, to change their site; Make former times shake hands with latter, 25 And that which was before, come after. But those that write in rhime, still make The one verse for the other's sake; For, one for sense, and one for rhime, I think's sufficient at one time. 30 But we forget in what sad plight We whilom left the captiv'd Knight And pensive Squire, both bruis'd in body, And conjur'd into safe custody. Tir'd with dispute and speaking Latin, 35 As well as basting and bear-baiting, And desperate of any course, To free himself by wit or force, His only solace was, that now His dog-bolt fortune was so low, 40 That either it must quickly end Or turn about again, and mend; In which he found th' event, no less Than other times beside his guess. There is a tall long sided dame 45 (But wond'rous light,) ycleped Fame That, like a thin camelion, boards Herself on air, and eats her words; Upon her shoulders wings she wears Like hanging-sleeves, lin'd through with ears, 50 And eyes, and tongues, as poets list, Made good by deep mythologist, With these she through the welkin flies, And sometimes carries truth, oft lies With letters hung like eastern pigeons, 55 And Mercuries of furthest regions; Diurnals writ for regulation Of lying, to inform the nation; And by their public use to bring down The rate of whetstones in the kingdom. 60 About her neck a pacquet-male, Fraught with advice, some fresh, some stale, Of men that walk'd when they were dead, And cows of monsters brought to bed; Of hail-stones big as pullets eggs, 65 And puppies whelp'd with twice two legs; A blazing star seen in the west, By six or seven men at least. Two trumpets she does sound at once, But both of clean contrary tones; 70 But whether both with the same wind, Or one before, and one behind, We know not; only this can tell, The one sounds vilely, th' other well; And therefore vulgar authors name 75 Th' one Good, the other Evil, Fame. This tattling gossip knew too well What mischief HUDIBRAS befell. And straight the spiteful tidings bears Of all to th' unkind widow's ears. 80 DEMOCRITUS ne'er laugh'd so loud To see bawds carted through the crowd, Or funerals with stately pomp March slowly on in solemn dump, As she laugh'd out, until her back, 85 As well as sides, was like to crack. She vow'd she would go see the sight, And visit the distressed Knight; To do the office of a neighbour, And be a gossip at his labour; 90 And from his wooden jail, the stocks, To set at large his fetter-locks; And, by exchange, parole, or ransom, To free him from th' enchanted mansion. This b'ing resolv'd, she call'd for hood 95 And usher, implements abroad Which ladies wear, beside a slender Young waiting damsel to attend her; All which appearing, on she went, To find the Knight in limbo pent. 100 And 'twas not long before she found Him, and the stout Squire, in the pound; Both coupled in enchanted tether, By further leg behind together For as he sat upon his rump, 105 His head like one in doleful dump, Between his knees, his hands apply'd Unto his ears on either side; And by him, in another hole, Afflicted RALPHO, cheek by jowl; 110 She came upon him in his wooden Magician's circle on the sudden, As spirits do t' a conjurer, When in their dreadful shapes th' appear. No sooner did the Knight perceive her, 115 But straight he fell into a fever, Inflam'd all over with disgrace, To be seen by her in such a place; Which made him hang his head, and scoul, And wink, and goggle like an owl. 120 He felt his brains begin to swim, When thus the dame accosted him: This place (quoth she) they say's enchanted, And with delinquent spirits haunted, That here are ty'd in chains, and scourg'd, 125 Until their guilty crimes be purg'd. Look, there are two of them appear, Like persons I have seen somewhere. Some have mistaken blocks and posts For spectres, apparitions, ghosts, 130 With saucer eyes, and horns; and some Have heard the Devil beat a drum: But if our eyes are not false glasses, That give a wrong account of faces, That beard and I should be acquainted, 135 Before 'twas conjur'd or enchanted; For though it be disfigur'd somewhat, As if 't had lately been in combat, It did belong to a worthy Knight Howe'er this goblin has come by't. 140 When HUDIBRAS the Lady heard Discoursing thus upon his beard, And speak with such respect and honour, Both of the beard and the beard's owner, He thought it best to set as good 145 A face upon it as he cou'd, And thus he spoke: Lady, your bright And radiant eyes are in the right: The beard's th' identic beard you knew, The same numerically true: 150 Nor is it worn by fiend or elf, But its proprietor himself. O, heavens! quoth she, can that be true? I do begin to fear 'tis you: Not by your individual whiskers, 155 But by your dialect and discourse, That never spoke to man or beast In notions vulgarly exprest. But what malignant star, alas Has brought you both to this sad pass? 160 Quoth he, The fortune of the war, Which I am less afflicted for, Than to be seen with beard and face, By you in such a homely case. Quoth she, Those need not he asham'd 165 For being honorably maim'd, If he that is in battle conquer'd, Have any title to his own beard; Though yours be sorely lugg'd and torn, It does your visage more adorn 170 Than if 'twere prun'd, and starch'd, and lander'd, And cut square by the Russian standard. A torn beard's like a tatter'd ensign, That's bravest which there are most rents in. That petticoat about your shoulders 175 Does not so well become a souldier's; And I'm afraid they are worse handled Although i' th' rear; your beard the van led; And those uneasy bruises make My heart for company to ake, 180 To see so worshipful a friend I' th' pillory set, at the wrong end. Quoth HUDIBRAS, This thing call'd pain Is (as the learned Stoicks maintain) Not bad simpliciter, nor good, 185 But merely as 'tis understood. Sense is deceitful, and may feign, As well in counterfeiting pain As other gross phenomenas, In which it oft mistakes the case. 190 But since the immortal intellect (That's free from error and defect, Whose objects still persist the same) Is free from outward bruise and maim, Which nought external can expose 195 To gross material bangs or blows, It follows, we can ne'er be sure, Whether we pain or not endure; And just so far are sore and griev'd, As by the fancy is believ'd. 200 Some have been wounded with conceit, And dy'd of mere opinion straight; Others, tho' wounded sore in reason, Felt no contusion, nor discretion. A Saxon Duke did grow so fat, 205 That mice (as histories relate) Eat grots and labyrinths to dwell in His postick parts without his feeling: Then how is't possible a kick Should e'er reach that way to the quick? 210 Quoth she, I grant it is in vain. For one that's basted to feel pain, Because the pangs his bones endure Contribute nothing to the cure: Yet honor hurt, is wont to rage 215 With pain no med'cine can asswage. Quoth he, That honour's very squeamish That takes a basting for a blemish; For what's more hon'rable than scars, Or skin to tatters rent in wars? 220 Some have been beaten till they know What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow; Some kick'd until they can feel whether A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather; And yet have met, after long running, 225 With some whom they have taught that cunning. The furthest way about t' o'ercome, In the end does prove the nearest home. By laws of learned duellists, They that are bruis'd with wood or fists, 230 And think one beating may for once Suffice, are cowards and pultroons: But if they dare engage t' a second, They're stout and gallant fellows reckon'd. Th' old Romans freedom did bestow, 235 Our princes worship, with a blow. King PYRRHUS cur'd his splenetic And testy courtiers with a kick. The NEGUS, when some mighty lord Or potentate's to be restor'd 240 And pardon'd for some great offence, With which be's willing to dispense, First has him laid upon his belly, Then beaten back and side to a jelly; That done, he rises, humbly bows, 245 And gives thanks for the princely blows; Departs not meanly proud, and boasting Of this magnificent rib-roasting. The beaten soldier proves most manful, That, like his sword, endures the anvil, 250 And justly's held more formidable, The more his valour's malleable: But he that fears a bastinado Will run away from his own shadow: And though I'm now in durance fast, 255 By our own party basely cast, Ransom, exchange, parole refus'd, And worse than by the enemy us'd; In close catasta shut, past hope Of wit or valour to elope; 260 As beards the nearer that they tend To th' earth still grow more reverend; And cannons shoot the higher pitches, The lower we let down their breeches; I'll make this low dejected fate 265 Advance me to a greater height. Quoth she, Y' have almost made me in love With that which did my pity move. Great wits and valours, like great states, Do sometimes sink with their own weights: Th' extremes of glory and of shame, 270 Like East and West, become the same: No Indian Prince has to his palace More foll'wers than a thief to th' gallows, But if a beating seem so brave, 275 What glories must a whipping have Such great atchievements cannot fail To cast salt on a woman's tail: For if I thought your nat'ral talent Of passive courage were so gallant, 280 As you strain hard to have it thought, I could grow amorous, and dote. When HUDIBRAS this language heard, He prick'd up's ears and strok'd his beard; Thought he, this is the lucky hour; 285 Wines work when vines are in the flow'r; This crisis then I'll set my rest on, And put her boldly to the question. Madam, what you wou'd seem to doubt, Shall be to all the world made out, 290 How I've been drubb'd, and with what spirit And magnanimity I bear it; And if you doubt it to be true, I'll stake myself down against you: And if I fail in love or troth, 295 Be you the winner, and take both. Quoth she, I've beard old cunning stagers Say, fools for arguments use wagers; And though I prais'd your valour, yet I did not mean to baulk your wit; 300 Which, if you have, you must needs know What I have told you before now, And you b' experiment have prov'd, I cannot love where I'm belov'd. Quoth HUDIBRAS, 'tis a caprich 305 Beyond th' infliction of a witch; So cheats to play with those still aim That do not understand the game. Love in your heart as icily burns As fire in antique Roman urns, 310 To warm the dead, and vainly light Those only that see nothing by't. Have you not power to entertain, And render love for love again; As no man can draw in his breath 315 At once, and force out air beneath? Or do you love yourself so much, To bear all rivals else a grutch? What fate can lay a greater curse Than you upon yourself would force? 320 For wedlock without love, some say, Is but a lock without a key. It is a kind of rape to marry One that neglects, or cares not for ye: For what does make it ravishment, 325 But b'ing against the mind's consent? A rape that is the more inhuman For being acted by a woman. Why are you fair, but to entice us To love you, that you may despise us? 330 But though you cannot Love, you say, Out of your own fanatick way, Why should you not at least allow Those that love you to do so too? For, as you fly me, and pursue 330 Love more averse, so I do you; And am by your own doctrine taught To practise what you call a fau't. Quoth she, If what you say is true, You must fly me as I do you; 340 But 'tis not what we do, but say, In love and preaching, that must sway. Quoth he, To bid me not to love, Is to forbid my pulse to move, My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, 345 Or (when I'm in a fit) to hickup: Command me to piss out the moon, And 'twill as easily be done: Love's power's too great to be withstood By feeble human flesh and blood. 350 'Twas he that brought upon his knees The hect'ring, kill-cow HERCULES; Transform'd his leager-lion's skin T' a petticoat, and made him spin; Seiz'd on his club, and made it dwindle 355 T' a feeble distaff, and a spindle. 'Twas he that made emperors gallants To their own sisters and their aunts; Set popes and cardinals agog, To play with pages at leap-frog. 360 'Twas he that gave our Senate purges, And flux'd the House of many a burgess; Made those that represent the nation Submit, and suffer amputation; And all the Grandees o' the Cabal 365 Adjourn to tubs at Spring and Fall. He mounted Synod-Men, and rode 'em To Dirty-Lane and Little Sodom; Made 'em curvet like Spanish jenets, And take the ring at Madam [Bennet's] 370 'Twas he that made Saint FRANCIS do More than the Devil could tempt him to, In cold and frosty weather, grow Enamour'd of a wife of snow; And though she were of rigid temper, 375 With melting flames accost and tempt her; Which after in enjoyment quenching, He hung a garland on his engine Quoth she, If Love have these effects, Why is it not forbid our sex? 380 Why is't not damn'd and interdicted, For diabolical and wicked? And sung, as out of tune, against, As Turk and Pope are by the Saints? I find I've greater reason for it, 385 Than I believ'd before t' abhor it. Quoth HUDIBRAS, These sad effects Spring from your Heathenish neglects Of Love's great pow'r, which he returns Upon yourselves with equal scorns; 390 And those who worthy lovers slight, Plagues with prepost'rous appetite. This made the beauteous Queen of Crete To take a town-bull for her sweet, And from her greatness stoop so low, 395 To be the rival of a cow: Others to prostitute their great hearts, To he baboons' and monkeys' sweet-hearts; Some with the Dev'l himself in league grow, By's representative a Negro. 400 'Twas this made vestal-maids love-sick, And venture to be bury'd quick: Some by their fathers, and their brothers, To be made mistresses and mothers. 'Tis this that proudest dames enamours 405 On lacquies and valets des chambres; Their haughty stomachs overcomes, And makes 'em stoop to dirty grooms; To slight the world, and to disparage Claps, issue, infamy, and marriage. 410 Quoth she, These judgments are severe, Yet such as I should rather bear, Than trust men with their oaths, or prove Their faith and secresy in love, Says he, There is as weighty reason 415 For secresy in love as treason. Love is a burglarer, a felon, That at the windore-eyes does steal in To rob the heart, and with his prey Steals out again a closer way, 420 Which whosoever can discover, He's sure (as he deserves) to suffer. Love is a fire, that burns and sparkles In men as nat'rally as in charcoals, Which sooty chymists stop in holes 425 When out of wood they extract coals: So lovers should their passions choak, That, tho' they burn, they may not smoak. 'Tis like that sturdy thief that stole And dragg'd beasts backwards into's hole: 430 So Love does lovers, and us men Draws by the tails into his den, That no impression may discover, And trace t' his cave, the wary lover, But if you doubt I should reveal 435 What you entrust me under seal. I'll prove myself as close and virtuous As your own secretary ALBERTUS. Quoth she, I grant you may be close In hiding what your aims propose. 440 Love-passions are like parables, By which men still mean something else, Though love be all the world's pretence, Money's the mythologick sense; The real substance of the shadow, 445 Which all address and courtship's made to. Thought he, I understand your play, And how to quit you your own way: He that will win his dame, must do As Love does when he bends his bow; 450 With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home. I grant, quoth he, wealth is a great Provocative to am'rous heat. It is all philters, and high diet, 455 That makes love rampant, and to fly out: 'Tis beauty always in the flower, That buds and blossoms at fourscore: 'Tis that by which the sun and moon At their own weapons are out-done: 460 That makes Knights-Errant fall in trances, And lay about 'em in romances: 'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all That men divine and sacred call: For what is worth in any thing, 465 But so much money as 'twill bring? Or what, but riches is there known, Which man can solely call his own In which no creature goes his half; Unless it be to squint and laugh? 470 I do confess, with goods and land, I'd have a wife at second-hand; And such you are. Nor is 't your person My stomach's set so sharp and fierce on; But 'tis (your better part) your riches, 475 That my enamour'd heart bewitches. Let me your fortune but possess, And settle your person how you please: Or make it o'er in trust to th' Devil; You'll find me reasonable and civil. 480 Quoth she, I like this plainness better Than false mock-passion, speech, or letter, Or any feat of qualm or sowning, But hanging of yourself, or drowning. Your only way with me to break 485 Your mind, is breaking of your neck; For as when merchants break, o'erthrown, Like nine-pins they strike others down, So that would break my heart; which done, My tempting fortune is your own, 490 These are but trifles: ev'ry lover Will damn himself over and over, And greater matters undertake For a less worthy mistress' sake: Yet th' are the only ways to prove 495 Th' unfeign'd realities of love: For he that hangs, or beats out's brains, The Devil's in him if he feigns. Quoth HUDIBRAS, This way's too rough For mere experiment and proof: 500 It is no jesting, trivial matter, To swing t' th' air, or douce in Water, And, like a water-witch, try love; That's to destroy, and not to prove; As if a man should be dissected 505 To find what part is disaffected. Your better way is to make over, In trust, your fortune to your lover. Trust is a trial; if it break, 'Tis not so desp'rate as a neck. 510 Beside, th' experiment's more certain; Men venture necks to gain a fortune: The soldier does it ev'ry day. (Eight to the week) for sixpence pay: Your pettifoggers damn their souls, 515 To share with knaves in cheating fools: And merchants, vent'ring through the main, Slight pirates, rocks, and horns, for gain. This is the way I advise you to: Trust me, and see what I will do. 520 Quoth she, I should be loth to run Myself all th' hazard, and you none; Which must be done, unless some deed Of your's aforesaid do precede. Give but yourself one gentle swing 525 For trial, and I'll cut the string: Or give that rev'rend head a maul, Or two, or three, against a wall, To shew you are a man of mettle, And I'll engage myself to settle. 530 Quoth he, My head's not made of brass, As Friar BACON'S noodle was; Nor (like the Indian's skull) so tough That, authors say, 'twas musket-proof, As yet on any new adventure, 535 As it had need to be, to enter. You see what bangs it has endur'd, That would, before new feats, be cur'd. But if that's all you stand upon, Here, strike me luck, it shall be done. 540 Quoth she, The matter's not so far gone As you suppose: Two words t' a bargain: That may be done, and time enough, When you have given downright proof; And yet 'tis no fantastic pique 545 I have to love, nor coy dislike: 'Tis no implicit, nice aversion T' your conversation, mein, or person, But a just fear, lest you should prove False and perfidious in love:, 550 For if I thought you could be true, I could love twice as much as you. Quoth he, My faith as adamanatine, As chains of destiny, I'll maintain: True as APOLLO ever spoke, 555 Or Oracle from heart of oak; And if you'll give my flame but vent, Now in close hugger-mugger pent, And shine upon me but benignly, With that one, and that other pigsney, 560 The sun and day shall sooner part, Than love or you shake off my heart; The sun, that shall no more dispense His own but your bright influence. I'll carve your name on barks of trees, 565 With true-loves-knots and flourishes, That shall infuse eternal spring, And everlasting flourishing: Drink ev'ry letter on't in stum, And make it brisk champaign become; 570 Where-e'er you tread, your foot shall set The primrose and the violet: All spices, perfumes, and sweet powders, Shall borrow from your breath their odours: Nature her charter shall renew, 575 And take all lives of things from you; The world depend upon your eye, And when you frown upon it, die: Only our loves shall still survive, New worlds and natures to out-live: 580 And, like to heralds' moons, remain All crescents, without change or wane. Hold, hold, quoth she; no more of this, Sir Knight; you take your aim amiss: For you will find it a hard chapter 585 To catch me with poetic rapture, In which your mastery of art Doth shew itself, and not your heart: Nor will you raise in mine combustion By dint of high heroic fustian. 590 She that with poetry is won, Is but a desk to write upon; And what men say of her, they mean No more than on the thing they lean. Some with Arabian spices strive 595 T' embalm her cruelly alive; Or season her, as French cooks use Their haut-gousts, bouillies, or ragousts: Use her so barbarously ill, To grind her lips upon a mill, 600 Until the facet doublet doth Fit their rhimes rather than her mouth: Her mouth compar'd to an oyster's, with A row of pearl in't -- stead of teeth. Others make posies of her cheeks, 605 Where red and whitest colours mix; In which the lily, and the rose, For Indian lake and ceruse goes. The sun and moon by her bright eyes Eclips'd, and darken'd in the skies, 610 Are but black patches, that she wears, Cut into suns, and moons, and stars: By which astrologers as well, As those in Heav'n above, can tell What strange events they do foreshow 615 Unto her under-world below. Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortals ears; As wise philosophers have thought; And that's the cause we hear it not. 620 This has been done by some, who those Th' ador'd in rhime, would kick in prose; And in those ribbons would have hung On which melodiously they sung; That have the hard fate to write best 625 Of those still that deserve it least; It matters not how false, or forc'd: So the best things be said o' th' worst: It goes for nothing when 'tis said; Only the arrow's drawn to th' bead, 630 Whether it be a swan or goose They level at: So shepherds use To set the same mark on the hip Both of their sound and rotten sheep: For wits, that carry low or wide, 635 Must be aim'd higher, or beside The mark, which else they ne'er come nigh, But when they take their aim awry. But I do wonder you should choose This way t' attack me with your Muse, 640 As one cut out to pass your tricks on, With fulhams of poetic fiction: I rather hop'd I should no more Hear from you o' th' gallanting score: For hard dry-bastings us'd to prove 645 The readiest remedies of love; Next a dry-diet: but if those fail, Yet this uneasy loop-hol'd jail, In which ye are hamper'd by the fetlock, Cannot but put y' in mind of wedlock; 650 Wedlock, that's worse than any hole here, If that may serve you for a cooler, T' allay your mettle, all agog Upon a wife, the heavi'r clog: Or rather thank your gentler fate, 655 That for a bruis'd or broken pate, Has freed you from those knobs that grow Much harder on the marry'd brow: But if no dread can cool your courage, From vent'ring on that dragon, marriage, 660 Yet give me quarter, and advance To nobler aims your puissance: Level at beauty and at wit; The fairest mark is easiest hit. Quoth HUDIBRAS, I'm beforehand 665 In that already, with your command For where does beauty and high wit But in your constellation meet? Quoth she, What does a match imply, But likeness and equality? 670 I know you cannot think me fit To be th' yoke-fellow of your wit; Nor take one of so mean deserts, To be the partner of your parts; A grace which, if I cou'd believe, 675 I've not the conscience to receive. That conscience, quoth HUDIBRAS, Is mis-inform'd: I'll state the case A man may be a legal donor, Of any thing whereof he's owner, 680 And may confer it where he lists, I' th' judgment of all casuists, Then wit, and parts, and valour, may Be ali'nated, and made away, By those that are proprietors, 685 As I may give or sell my horse. Quoth she, I grant the case is true And proper 'twixt your horse and you; But whether I may take as well As you may give away or sell? 690 Buyers you know are bid beware; And worse than thieves receivers are. How shall I answer hue and cry, For a roan gelding, twelve hands high, All spurr'd and switch'd, a lock on's hoof, 695 A sorrel mane? Can I bring proof Where, when, by whom, and what y' were sold for, And in the open market toll'd for? Or should I take you for a stray, You must be kept a year and day 700 (Ere I can own you) here i' the pound, Where, if y' are sought, you may be found And in the mean time I must pay For all your provender and hay. Quoth he, It stands me much upon 705 T' enervate this objection, And prove myself; by topic clear No gelding, as you would infer. Loss of virility's averr'd To be the cause of loss of beard, 710 That does (like embryo in the womb) Abortive on the chin become. This first a woman did invent, In envy of man's ornament; SEMIRAMIS, of Babylon, 715 Who first of all cut men o' th' stone, To mar their beards, and lay foundation Of sow-geldering operation. Look on this beard, and tell me whether Eunuchs wear such, or geldings either? 720 Next it appears I am no horse; That I can argue and discourse Have but two legs, and ne'er a tail. Quoth she, That nothing will avail For some philosophers of late here, 725 Write, men have four legs by nature, And that 'tis custom makes them go Erron'ously upon but two; As 'twas in Germany made good B' a boy that lost himself in a wood, 730 And growing down to a man, was wont With wolves upon all four to hunt. As for your reasons drawn from tails, We cannot say they're true or false, Till you explain yourself, and show, 735 B' experiment, 'tis so or no. Quoth he, If you'll join issue on't, I'll give you satisfactory account; So you will promise, if you lose, To settle all, and be my spouse. 740 That never shall be done (quoth she) To one that wants a tail, by me For tails by nature sure were meant, As well as beards, for ornament: And though the vulgar count them homely, 745 In men or beast they are so comely, So gentee, alamode, and handsome, I'll never marry man that wants one; And till you can demonstrate plain, You have one equal to your mane, 750 I'll be torn piece-meal by a horse, Ere I'll take you for better or worse. The Prince of CAMBAY's daily food Is asp, and basilisk, and toad; Which makes him have so strong a breath, 755 Each night he stinks a queen to death; Yet I shall rather lie in's arms Than yours, on any other terms. Quoth he, What nature can afford, I shall produce, upon my word; 760 And if she ever gave that boon To man, I'll prove that I have one I mean by postulate illation, When you shall offer just occasion: But since y' have yet deny'd to give 765 My heart, your pris'ner, a reprieve, But made it sink down to my heel, Let that at least your pity feel; And, for the sufferings of your martyr, Give its poor entertainer quarter; 770 And, by discharge or main-prize, grant Deliv'ry from this base restraint. Quoth she, I grieve to see your leg Stuck in a hole here like a peg; And if I knew which way to do't 775 (Your honour safe) I'd let you out. That Dames by jail-delivery Of Errant-Knights have been set free, When by enchantment they have been, And sometimes for it too, laid in, 780 Is that which Knights are bound to do By order, oath, and honour too: For what are they renown'd, and famous else, But aiding of distressed damosels? But for a Lady no ways errant, 785 To free a Knight, we have no warrant In any authentical romance, Or classic author, yet of France; And I'd be loth to have you break An ancient custom for a freak, 790 Or innovation introduce In place of things of antique use; To free your heels by any course, That might b' unwholesome to your spurs; Which, if I should consent unto, 795 It is not in my pow'r to do; For 'tis a service must be done ye With solemn previous ceremony; Which always has been us'd t' untie The charms of those who here do lie 800 For as the ancients heretofore To Honour's Temple had no door, But that which thorough Virtue's lay, So from this dungeon there's no way To honour'd freedom, but by passing 805 That other virtuous school of lashing, Where Knights are kept in narrow lists, With wooden lockets 'bout their wrists; In which they for a while are tenants, And for their Ladies suffer penance: 810 Whipping, that's Virtue's governess, Tutress of arts and sciences; That mends the gross mistakes of Nature, And puts new life into dull matter; That lays foundation for renown, 815 And all the honours of the gown. This suffer'd, they are set at large, And freed with hon'rable discharge. Then in their robes the penitentials Are straight presented with credentials, 820 And in their way attended on By magistrates of ev'ry town; And, all respect and charges paid, They're to their ancient seats convey'd. Now if you'll venture, for my sake, 825 To try the toughness of your back, And suffer (as the rest have done) The laying of a whipping on, (And may you prosper in your suit, As you with equal vigour do't,) 830 I here engage myself to loose ye, And free your heels from Caperdewsie. But since our sex's modesty Will not allow I should be by, Bring me, on oath, a fair account, 835 And honour too, when you have done't, And I'll admit you to the place You claim as due in my good grace. If matrimony and hanging go By dest'ny, why not whipping too? 840 What med'cine else can cure the fits Of lovers when they lose their wits? Love is a boy by poets stil'd; Then spare the rod and spoil the child. A Persian emp'ror whipp'd his grannam 845 The sea, his mother VENUS came on; And hence some rev'rend men approve Of rosemary in making love. As skilful coopers hoop their tubs With Lydian and with Phrygian dubs, 850 Why may not whipping have as good A grace, perform'd in time and mood, With comely movement, and by art, Raise passion in a lady's heart? It is an easier way to make 855 Love by, than that which many take. Who would not rather suffer whipping, Than swallow toasts of bits of ribbon? Make wicked verses, treats, and faces, And spell names over with beer-glasses 860 Be under vows to hang and die Love's sacrifice, and all a lie? With china-oranges and tarts And whinning plays, lay baits for hearts? Bribe chamber-maids with love and money, 865 To break no roguish jests upon ye? For lilies limn'd on cheeks, and roses, With painted perfumes, hazard noses? Or, vent'ring to be brisk and wanton, Do penance in a paper lanthorn? 870 All this you may compound for now, By suffering what I offer you; Which is no more than has been done By Knights for Ladies long agone. Did not the great LA MANCHA do so 875 For the INFANTA DEL TOBOSO? Did not th' illustrious Bassa make Himself a slave for Misse's sake? And with bull's pizzle, for her love, Was taw 'd as gentle as a glove? 880 Was not young FLORIO sent (to cool His flame for BIANCAFIORE) to school, Where pedant made his pathic bum For her sake suffer martyrdom? Did not a certain lady whip 885 Of late her husband's own Lordship? And though a grandee of the House, Claw'd him with fundamental blows Ty'd him stark naked to a bed-post, And firk'd his hide, as if sh' had rid post 890 And after, in the sessions-court, Where whipping's judg'd, had honour for't? This swear you will perform, and then I'll set you from th' inchanted den, And the magician's circle clear. 895 Quoth he, I do profess and swear, And will perform what you enjoin, Or may I never see you mine. Amen, (quoth she;) then turn'd about, And bid her Esquire let him out. 900 But ere an artist could be found T' undo the charms another bound, The sun grew low, and left the skies, Put down (some write) by ladies eyes, The moon pull'd off her veil of light 905 That hides her face by day from sight, (Mysterious veil, of brightness made, That's both her lustre and her shade,) And in the lanthorn of the night With shining horns hung out her light; 910 For darkness is the proper sphere, Where all false glories use t' appear. The twinkling stars began to muster, And glitter with their borrow'd lustre, While sleep the weary 'd world reliev'd, 915 By counterfeiting death reviv'd; His whipping penance till the morn Our vot'ry thought it best t' adjourn, And not to carry on a work Of such importance in the dark, 920 With erring haste, but rather stay, And do't in th' open face of day; And in the mean time go in quest Of next retreat to take his rest. CANTO II THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The Knight and Squire, in hot dispute, Within an ace of falling out, Are parted with a sudden fright Of strange alarm, and stranger sight; With which adventuring to stickle, They're sent away in nasty pickle. ------------------------------------------------- 'Tis strange how some mens' tempers suit (Like bawd and brandy) with dispute, That for their own opinions stand last Only to have them claw'd and canvast; That keep their consciences in cases, 5 As fiddlers do their crowds and bases, Ne'er to be us'd, but when they're bent To play a fit for argument; Make true and false, unjust and just, Of no use but to be discust; 10 Dispute, and set a paradox Like a straight boot upon the stocks, And stretch it more unmercifully Than HELMONT, MONTAIGN, WHITE, or TULLY, So th' ancient Stoicks, in their porch, 15 With fierce dispute maintain'd their church; Beat out their brains in fight and study, To prove that Virtue is a Body; That Bonum is an Animal, Made good with stout polemic brawl; 20 in which some hundreds on the place Were slain outright; and many a face Retrench'd of nose, and eyes, and beard, To maintain what their sect averr'd; All which the Knight and Squire, in wrath, 25 Had like t' have suffered for their faith, Each striving to make good his own, As by the sequel shall be shown. The Sun had long since, in the lap Of THETIS, taken out his nap, 30 And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn From black to red began to turn, When HUDIBRAS, whom thoughts and aking, 'Twixt sleeping kept all night and waking, Began to rub his drowsy eyes, 35 And from his couch prepar'd to rise, Resolving to dispatch the deed He vow'd to do with trusty speed. But first, with knocking loud, and bawling, He rouz'd the Squire, in truckle lolling; 40 And, after many circumstances, Which vulgar authors, in romances, Do use to spend their time and wits on, To make impertinent description, They got (with much ado) to horse, 45 And to the Castle bent their course, In which he to the Dame before To suffer whipping duly swore; Where now arriv'd, and half unharnest, To carry on the work in earnest, 50 He stopp'd, and paus'd upon the sudden, And with a serious forehead plodding, Sprung a new scruple his head, Which first he scratch'd, and after said -- Whether it be direct infringing 55 An oath, if I should wave this swingeing, And what I've sworn to bear, forbear, And so b' equivocation swear, Or whether it be a lesser sin To be forsworn than act the thing, 60 Are deep and subtle points, which must, T' inform my conscience, be discust; In which to err a tittle may To errors infinite make way; And therefore I desire to know 65 Thy judgment e'er we further go. Quoth Ralpho, Since you do enjoin't, I shall enlarge upon the point; And, for my own part, do not doubt Th' affirmative may be made out, 70 But first, to state the case aright, For best advantage of our light, And thus 'tis: Whether 't be a sin To claw and curry your own skin, Greater or less, than to forbear, 75 And that you are forsworn, forswear. But first, o' th' first: The inward man, And outward, like a clan and clan, Have always been at daggers-drawing, And one another clapper-clawing. 80 Not that they really cuff, or fence, But in a Spiritual Mystick sense; Which to mistake, and make 'em squabble In literal fray's abominable. 'Tis heathenish, in frequent use 85 With Pagans and apostate Jews, To offer sacrifice of bridewells, Like modern Indians to their idols; And mongrel Christians of our times, That expiate less with greater crimes, 90 And call the foul abomination, Contrition and mortification. Is 't not enough we're bruis'd and kicked With sinful members of the wicked, Our vessels, that are sanctify'd, 95 Prophan'd and curry'd back and side, But we must claw ourselves with shameful And heathen stripes, by their example; Which (were there nothing to forbid it) Is impious because they did it; 100 This, therefore, may be justly reckon'd A heinous sin. Now to the second That Saints may claim a dispensation To swear and forswear, on occasion, I doubt not but it will appear 105 With pregnant light: the point is clear. Oaths are but words, and words but wind; Too feeble implements to bind; And hold with deeds proportion so As shadows to a substance do. 110 Then when they strive for place, 'tis fit The weaker vessel should submit. Although your Church be opposite To ours as Black Friars are to White, In rule and order, yet I grant, 115 You are a Reformado Saint; And what the Saints do claim as due, You may pretend a title to: But Saints whom oaths and vows oblige, Know little of their privilege; 120 Further (I mean) than carrying on Some self-advantage of their own: For if the Dev'l, to serve his turn, Can tell troth, why the Saints should scorn, When it serves theirs, to swear and lye; 125 I think there's little reason why: Else h' has a greater pow'r than they, Which 't were impiety to say. W' are not commanded to forbear Indefinitely at all to swear; 130 But to swear idly, and in vain, Without self-interest or gain For breaking of an oath, and lying, Is but a kind of self-denying; A Saint-like virtue: and from hence 135 Some have broke oaths by Providence Some, to the glory of the Lord, Perjur'd themselves, and broke their word; And this the constant rule and practice Of all our late Apostles acts is. 140 Was not the cause at first begun With perjury, and carried on? Was there an oath the Godly took, But in due time and place they broke? Did we not bring our oaths in first, 145 Before our plate, to have them burst, And cast in fitter models for The present use of Church and War? Did not our Worthies of the House, Before they broke the peace, break vows? 150 For having freed us first from both Th' Allegiance and Supremacy Oath, Did they not next compel the Nation To take and break the Protestation? To swear, and after to recant 155 The solemn League and Covenant? To take th' Engagement, and disclaim it, Enforc'd by those who first did frame it Did they not swear, at first, to fight For the KING'S Safety and his Right, 160 And after march'd to find him out, And charg'd him home with horse and foot; But yet still had the confidence To swear it was in his defence Did they not swear to live and die 165 With Essex, and straight laid him by? If that were all, for some have swore As false as they, if th' did no more, Did they not swear to maintain Law, In which that swearing made a flaw? 170 For Protestant Religion vow, That did that vowing disallow? For Privilege of Parliament, In which that swearing made a rent? And since, of all the three, not one 175 Is left in being, 'tis well known. Did they not swear, in express words, To prop and back the House of Lords, And after turn'd out the whole House-full Of Peers, as dang'rous and unusefull? 180 So CROMWELL, with deep oaths and vows, Swore all the Commons out o' th' House; Vow'd that the red-coats would disband, Ay, marry wou'd they, at their command; And troll'd them on, and swore, and swore, 185 Till th' army turn'd them out of door. This tells us plainly what they thought, That oaths and swearing go for nought, And that by them th' were only meant To serve for an expedient. 190 What was the Public Faith found out for, But to slur men of what they fought for The Public Faith, which ev'ry one Is bound t' observe, yet kept by none; And if that go for nothing, why 195 Should Private Faith have such a tye? Oaths were not purpos'd more than law, To keep the good and just in awe, But to confine the bad and sinful, Like moral cattle, in a pinfold. 200 A Saint's of th' Heav'nly Realm a Peer; And as no Peer is bound to swear, But on the Gospel of his Honour, Of which he may dispose as owner, It follows, though the thing be forgery, 205 And false th' affirm, it is no perjury, But a mere ceremony, and a breach Of nothing, but a form of speech; And goes for no more when 'tis took, Than mere saluting of the book. 210 Suppose the Scriptures are of force, They're but commissions of course, And Saints have freedom to digress, And vary from 'em, as they please; Or mis-interpret them, by private 215 Instructions, to all aims they drive at. Then why should we ourselves abridge And curtail our own privilege? Quakers (that, like to lanthorns, bear Their light within 'em) will not swear 220 Their gospel is an accidence, By which they construe conscience, And hold no sin so deeply red, As that of breaking Priscian's head; (The head and founder of their order,) 225 That stirring Hat's held worse than murder. These thinking th' are oblig'd to troth In swearing, will not take an oath Like mules, who, if th' have not their will To keep their own pace, stand stock-still: 230 But they are weak, and little know What free-born consciences may do. 'Tis the temptation of the Devil That makes all human actions evil For Saints may do the same things by 235 The Spirit, in sincerity, Which other men are tempted to, And at the Devil's instance do And yet the actions be contrary, Just as the Saints and Wicked vary. 240 For as on land there is no beast, But in some fish at sea's exprest, So in the Wicked there's no Vice, Of which the Saints have not a spice; And yet that thing that's pious in 245 The one, in th' other is a sin. Is't not ridiculous, and nonsense, A Saint should be a slave to conscience, That ought to be above such fancies, As far as above ordinances? 250 She's of the wicked, as I guess, B' her looks, her language, and her dress: And though, like constables, we search, For false wares, one another's Church, Yet all of us hold this for true, 255 No Faith is to the wicked due; For truth is precious and divine; Too rich a pearl for carnal swine, Quoth HUDIBRAS, All this is true; 260 Yet 'tis not fit that all men knew, Those mysteries and revelations, And therefore topical evasions Of subtle turns and shifts of sense, Serve best with th' wicked for pretence, Such as the learned Jesuits use, 265 And Presbyterians for excuse Against the Protestants, when th' happen To find their Churches taken napping: As thus: A breach of oath is duple, And either way admits a scruple, 270 And may be, ex parte of the maker More criminal than th' injur'd taker; For he that strains too far a vow, Will break it, like an o'er-bent bow: And he that made, and forc'd it, broke it, 275 Not he that for convenience took it. A broken oath is, quatenus oath, As sound t' all purposes of troth, As broken laws are ne'er the worse; Nay, till th' are broken have no force. 280 What's justice to a man, or laws, That never comes within their claws They have no pow'r, but to admonish: Cannot controul, coerce, or punish, Until they're broken, and then touch 285 Those only that do make 'em such. Beside, no engagement is allow'd By men in prison made for good; For when they're set at liberty, They're from th' engagement too set free. 290 The rabbins write, when any Jew Did make to God, or man, a vow, Which afterward he found untoward, And stubborn to be kept, or too hard, Any three other Jews o' th' nation, 295 Might free him from the obligation And have not two saints pow'r to use A greater privilege than three Jews? The court of conscience, which in man Should be supreme and sovereign, 300 Is't fit should be subordinate To ev'ry petty court i' the state, And have less power than the lesser, To deal with perjury at pleasure? Have its proceedings disallow'd, or 305 Allow'd, at fancy of Pye-Powder? Tell all it does, or does not know, For swearing ex officio? Be forc'd t' impeach a broken hedge, And pigs unring'd at Vis. Franc. Pledge? 310 Discover thieves, and bawds, recusants, Priests, witches, eves-droppers, and nuisance: Tell who did play at games unlawful, And who fill'd pots of ale but half-full And have no pow'r at all, nor shift, 315 To help itself at a dead lift Why should not conscience have vacation As well as other courts o' th' nation Have equal power to adjourn, Appoint appearance and return; 320 And make as nice distinction serve To split a case, as those that carve, Invoking cuckolds' names, hit joints; Why should not tricks as slight do points Is not th' High-Court of Justice sworn 325 To judge that law that serves their turn, Make their own jealousies high-treason, And fix 'm whomsoe'er they please on? Cannot the learned counsel there Make laws in any shape appear? 330 Mould 'em as witches do their clay, When they make pictures to destroy And vex 'em into any form That fits their purpose to do harm? Rack 'em until they do confess, 335 Impeach of treason whom they please, And most perfidiously condemn Those that engag'd their lives for them? And yet do nothing in their own sense, But what they ought by oath and conscience? 340 Can they not juggle, and, with slight Conveyance, play with wrong and right; And sell their blasts of wind as dear As Lapland witches bottled air? Will not fear, favour, bribe and grudge 345 The same case sev'ral ways adjudge? As seamen, with the self-same gale, Will sev'ral different courses sail? As when the sea breaks o'er its bounds, And overflows the level grounds, 350 Those banks and dams, that, like a screen, Did keep it out, now keep it in; So when tyrannic usurpation Invades the freedom of a nation, The laws o' th' land, that were intended 355 To keep it out, are made defend it. Does not in chanc'ry ev'ry man swear What makes best for him in his answer? Is not the winding up witnesses And nicking more than half the bus'ness? 360 For witnesses, like watches, go Just as they're set, too fast or slow; And where in conscience they're strait-lac'd, 'Tis ten to one that side is cast. Do not your juries give their verdict 365 As if they felt the cause, not heard it? And as they please, make matter of fact Run all on one side, as they're pack't? Nature has made man's breast no windores, To publish what he does within doors, 370 Nor what dark secrets there inhabit, Unless his own rash folly blab it. If oaths can do a man no good In his own bus'ness, why they shou'd In other matters do him hurt, 375 I think there's little reason for't. He that imposes an oath, makes it, Not he that for convenience takes it: Then how can any man be said To break an oath he never made? 380 These reasons may, perhaps, look oddly To th' Wicked, though th' evince the Godly; But if they will not serve to clear My honour, I am ne'er the near. Honour is like that glassy bubble 385 That finds philosophers such trouble, Whose least part crack't, the whole does fly, And wits are crack'd to find out why. Quoth RALPHO, Honour's but a word To swear by only in a Lord: 390 In other men 'tis but a huff, To vapour with instead of proof; That, like a wen, looks big and swells, Is senseless, and just nothing else. Let it (quoth he) be what it will, 395 It has the world's opinion still. But as men are not wise that run The slightest hazard they may shun, There may a medium be found out To clear to all the world the doubt; 400 And that is, if a man may do't, By proxy whipt, or substitute. Though nice and dark the point appear, (Quoth RALPH) it may hold up and clear. That sinners may supply the place 405 Of suff'ring Saints is a plain case. Justice gives sentence many times On one man for another's crimes. Our brethren of NEW ENGLAND use Choice malefactors to excuse, 410 And hang the guiltless in their stead, Of whom the Churches have less need; As lately 't happen'd: In a town

There liv'd a cobler, and but one, That out of doctrine could cut use, 415 And mend men's lives as well as shoes, This precious brother having slain, In time of peace, an Indian, (Not out of malice, but mere zeal, Because he was an Infidel,) 420 The mighty TOTTIPOTTYMOY Sent to our elders an envoy, Complaining sorely of the breach Of league held forth by brother Patch Against the articles in force 425 Between both Churches, his and ours For which he crav'd the Saints to render Into his hands or hang th' offender But they maturely having weigh'd, They had no more but him o' th' trade, 430 (A man that serv'd them in a double Capacity, to teach and cobble,) Resolv'd to spare him; yet, to do The Indian Hoghgan Moghgan too Impartial justice, in his stead did 435 Hang an old Weaver, that was bed-rid. Then wherefore way not you be skipp'd, And in your room another whipp'd? For all Philosophers, but the Sceptick, Hold whipping may be sympathetick. 440 It is enough, quoth HUDIBRAS, Thou hast resolv'd and clear'd the case And canst, in conscience, not refuse From thy own doctrine to raise use. I know thou wilt not (for my sake) 445 Be tender-conscienc'd of thy back. Then strip thee off thy carnal jerking, And give thy outward-fellow a ferking; For when thy vessel is new hoop'd, All leaks of sinning will be stopp'd. 450 Quoth RALPHO, You mistake the matter; For in all scruples of this nature, No man includes himself, nor turns The point upon his own concerns. As no man of his own self catches 455 The itch, or amorous French aches So no man does himself convince, By his own doctrine, of his sins And though all cry down self, none means His ownself in a literal sense. 460 Beside, it is not only foppish, But vile, idolatrous and Popish, For one man, out of his own skin, To ferk and whip another's sin; As pedants out of school-boys' breeches 465 Do claw and curry their own itches. But in this case it is prophane, And sinful too, because in vain; For we must take our oaths upon it, You did the deed, when I have done it. 470 Quoth HUDIBRAS, That's answer'd soon Give us the whip, we'll lay it on. Quoth RALPHO, That we may swear true, 'Twere properer that I whipp'd you For when with your consent 'tis done, 475 The act is really your own. Quoth HUDIBRAS, It is in vain (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain; Or, like the stars, incline men to What they're averse themselves to do: 480 For when disputes are weary'd out, 'Tis interest still resolves the doubt But since no reason can confute ye, I'll try to force you to your duty For so it is, howe'er you mince it; 485 As ere we part, I shall evince it And curry (if you stand out) whether You will or no, your stubborn leather. Canst thou refuse to hear thy part I' th' publick work, base as thou art? 490 To higgle thus for a few blows, To gain thy Knight an op'lent spouse Whose wealth his bowels yearn to purchase, Merely for th' interest of the Churches; And when he has it in his claws, 495 Will not be hide-bound to the Cause? Nor shalt thou find him a Curmudgin, If thou dispatch it without grudging. If not, resolve, before we go, That you and I must pull a crow. 500 Y' had best (quoth RALPHO) as the ancients Say wisely, Have a care o' th' main chance, And look before you ere you leap; For as you sow, y' are like to reap: And were y' as good as George-a-Green, 505 I shall make bold to turn agen Nor am I doubtful of the issue In a just quarrel, and mine is so. Is't fitting for a man of honour To whip the Saints, like Bishop Bonner? 510 A Knight t' usurp the beadle's office, For which y' are like to raise brave trophies. But I advise you (not for fear, But for your own sake) to forbear; And for the Churches, which may chance, 515 From hence, to spring a variance; And raise among themselves new scruples, Whom common danger hardly couples. Remember how, in arms and politicks, We still have worsted all your holy tricks; 520 Trepann'd your party with intrigue, And took your grandees down a peg; New modell'd th' army, and cashier'd All that to legion SMEC adher'd; Made a mere utensil o' your Church, 525 And after left it in the lurch A scaffold to build up our own, And, when w' had done with't, pull'd it down Capoch'd your Rabbins of the Synod, And snap'd their Canons with a why-not; 530 (Grave Synod Men, that were rever'd For solid face and depth of beard;) Their classic model prov'd a maggot, Their direct'ry an Indian Pagod; And drown'd their discipline like a kitten, 535 On which they'd been so long a sitting; Decry'd it as a holy cheat, Grown out of date, and obsolete; And all the Saints of the first grass As casting foals of Balaam's ass. 540 At this the Knight grew high in chafe, And staring furiously on RALPH, He trembled, and look'd pale with ire Like ashes first, then red as fire. Have I (quoth he) been ta'en in fight, 545 And for so many moons lain by't, And, when all other means did fail, Have been exchang'd for tubs of ale? Not but they thought me worth a ransome Much more consid'rable and handsome, 550 But for their own sakes, and for fear They were not safe when I was there Now to be baffled by a scoundrel, An upstart sect'ry, and a mungrel; Such as breed out of peccant humours, 555 Of our own Church, like wens or tumours, And, like a maggot in a sore, Would that which gave it life devour; It never shall be done or said; With that he seiz'd upon his blade; 560 And RALPHO too, as quick and bold, Upon his basket-hilt laid hold, With equal readiness prcpar'd To draw, and stand upon his guard; When both were parted on the sudden, 565 With hideous clamour, and a loud one As if all sorts of noise had been Contracted into one loud din; Or that some member to be chosen, Had got the odds above a thousand, 570 And by the greatness of its noise, Prov'd fittest for his country's choice. This strange surprisal put the Knight And wrathful Squire into a fright; And though they stood prepar'd, with fatal 575 Impetuous rancour to join battel, Both thought it was the wisest course To wave the fight and mount to horse, And to secure by swift retreating, Themselves from danger of worse beating. 580 Yet neither of them would disparage, By utt'ring of his mind, his courage, Which made them stoutly keep their ground, With horror and disdain wind-bound. And now the cause of all their fear 585 By slow degrees approach'd so near, They might distinguish different noise Of horns, and pans, and dogs, and boys, And kettle-drums, whose sullen dub Sounds like the hooping of a tub. 590 But when the sight appear'd in view, They found it was an antique show; A triumph, that, for pomp and state, Did proudest Romans emulate: For as the aldermen of Rome 595 Their foes at training overcome, And not enlarging territory, (As some mistaken write in Story,) Being mounted, in their best array, Upon a carr, and who but they! 600 And follow'd with a world of tall-lads, That merry ditties troll'd, and ballads, Did ride with many a good-morrow, Crying, Hey for our Town! through the Borough So when this triumph drew so nigh 605 They might particulars descry, They never saw two things so pat, In all respects, as this and that. First, he that led the cavalcade, Wore a sow-gelder's flagellate, 610 On which he blew as strong a levet As well-fee'd lawyer on his breviate, When over one another's heads They charge (three ranks at once) like Swedes, Next pans and kettle, of all keys, 615 From trebles down to double base; And after them, upon a nag, That might pass for a forehand stag, A cornet rode, and on his staff A smock display'd did proudly wave. 620 Then bagpipes of the loudest drones, With snuffling broken-winded tones, Whose blasts of air, in pockets shut Sound filthier than from the gut, And make a viler noise than swine 625 In windy weather, when they whine. Next one upon a pair of panniers, Full fraught with that which for good manners Shall here be nameless, mixt with grains, Which he dispens'd among the swains, 630 And busily upon the crowd At random round about bestow'd. Then, mounted on a horned horse, One bore a gauntlet and gilt spurs, Ty'd to the pummel of a long sword 635 He held reverst, the point turn'd downward, Next after, on a raw-bon'd steed, The conqueror's standard-bearer rid, And bore aloft before the champion A petticoat display'd, and rampant 640 Near whom the Amazon triumphant Bestrid her beast, and on the rump on't Sat face to tail, and bum to bum, The warrior whilom overcome; Arm'd with a spindle and a distaff, 645 Which, as he rode, she made him twist off; And when he loiter'd, o'er her shoulder Chastis'd the reformado soldier. Before the dame, and round about, March'd whifflers and staffiers on foot, 650 With lackies, grooms, valets, and pages, In fit and proper equipages; Of whom some torches bore, some links, Before the proud virago minx, That was both Madam and a Don, 655 Like NERO'S SPORUS, or POPE JOAN; And at fit periods the whole rout Set up their throats with clamorous shout. The Knight, transported, and the Squire, Put up their weapons, and their ire; 660 And HUDIBRAS, who us'd to ponder On such sights with judicious wonder, Could hold no longer to impart His animadversions, for his heart. Quoth he, In all my life, till now, 665 I ne'er saw so prophane a show. It is a Paganish invention, -- Which heathen writers often mention: And he who made it had read GOODWIN, Or Ross, or CAELIUS RHODOGINE, 670 With all the Grecians, SPEEDS and STOWS, That best describe those ancient shows; And has observ'd all fit decorums We find describ'd by old historians: For as the Roman conqueror, 675 That put an end to foreign war, Ent'ring the town in triumph for it, Bore a slave with him, in his chariot; So this insulting female brave, Carries behind her here a slave: 680 And as the ancients long ago, When they in field defy'd the foe, Hung out their mantles della guerre, So her proud standard-bearer here Waves on his spear, in dreadful manner, 685 A Tyrian-petticoat for banner: Next links and torches, heretofore Still borne before the emperor. And as, in antique triumphs, eggs Were borne for mystical intrigues, 690 There's one with truncheon, like a ladle, That carries eggs too, fresh or addle; And still at random, as he goes, Among the rabble-rout bestows. Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter; 695 For all th' antiquity you smatter, Is but a riding, us'd of course When the grey mare's the better horse; When o'er the breeches greedy women Fight to extend their vast dominion; 700 And in the cause impatient Grizel Has drubb'd her Husband with bull's pizzle, And brought him under Covert-Baron, To turn her vassal with a murrain; When wives their sexes shift, like hares, 705 And ride their husbands like night-mares, And they in mortal battle vanquish'd, Are of their charter disenfranchis'd And by the right of war, like gills, Condemn'd to distaff, horns, and wheels: 710 For when men by their wives are cow'd, Their horns of course are understood Quoth HUDIBRAS thou still giv'st sentence Impertinently, and against sense. Tis not the least disparagement 715 To be defeated by th' event, Nor to be beaten by main force; That does not make a man the worse, Although his shoulders with battoon Be claw'd and cudgel'd to some tune. 720 A taylor's 'prentice has no hard Measure that's bang'd with a true yard: But to turn tail, or run away, And without blows give up the day, Or to surrender ere th' assault, 725 That's no man's fortune, but his fault, And renders men of honour less Than all th' adversity of success; And only unto such this shew Of horns and petticoats is due. 730 There is a lesser profanation, Like that the Romans call'd ovation: For as ovation was allow'd For conquest purchas'd without blood, So men decree these lesser shows 735 For victory gotten without blows, By dint of sharp hard words, which some Give battle with, and overcome. These mounted in a chair-curule, Which moderns call a cucking-stool, 740 March proudly to the river's side, And o'er the waves in triumph ride; Like Dukes of VENICE, who are said The Adriatick Sea to wed; And have a gentler wife than those 745 For whom the State decrees those shows, But both are heathenish, and come From th' whores of Babylon and Rome; And by the Saints should be withstood, As Antichristian and lewd; 750 And as such, should now contribute Our utmost struggling to prohibit. This said, they both advanc'd, and rode A dog-trot through the bawling crowd, T'attack the leader, and still prest, 755 Till they approach'd him breast to breast Then HUDIBRAS, with face and hand, Made signs for silence; which obtain'd, What means (quoth he) this Devil's precession With men of orthodox profession? 760 'Tis ethnic and idolatrous, From heathenism deriv'd to us, Does not the Whore of Babylon ride Upon her horned beast astride Like this proud dame, who either is 765 A type of her, or she of this? Are things of superstitious function Fit to be us'd in Gospel Sun-shine? It is an Antichristian opera, Much us'd in midnight times of Popery, 770 Of running after self-inventions Of wicked and profane intentions; To scandalize that sex for scolding, To whom the Saints are so beholden. Women, who were our first Apostles 775 Without whose aid we had been lost else; Women, that left no stone unturn'd In which the Cause might he concern'd; Brought in their children's' spoons and whistles, To purchase swords, carbines, and pistols; 780 Their husbands, cullies, and sweet-hearts, To take the Saints and Churches' parts; Drew several gifted Brethren in, That for the Bishops would have been, And fix'd 'em constant to the party, 785 With motives powerful and hearty; Their husbands robb'd, and made hard shifts T'administer unto their gifts All they cou'd rap, and rend, and pilfer, To scraps and ends of gold and silver; 790 Rubb'd down the Teachers, tir'd and spent With holding forth for Parliament, Pamper'd and edify'd their zeal With marrow-puddings many a meal; And led them, with store of meat, 795 On controverted points to eat; And cram'd 'em, till their guts did ake, With cawdle, custard, and plum-cake: What have they done, or what left undone, That might advance the Cause at London? 800 March'd rank and file, with drum and ensign, T'intrench the city for defence in Rais'd rampiers with their own soft hands, To put the enemy to stands; From ladies down to oyster-wenches, 805 Labour'd like pioneers in trenches; Fell to their pick-axes, and tools, And help'd the men to dig like moles? Have not the handmaids of the city Chose of their members a committee, 810 For raising of a common purse Out of their wages to raise horse? And do they not as triers sit, To judge what officers are fit Have they --? At that an egg let fly, 815 Hit him directly o'er the eye, And running down his cheek, besmear'd, With orange tawny slime, his beard; But beard and slime being of one hue, The wound the less appear'd in view. 820 Then he that on the panniers rode, Let fly on th' other side a load, And, quickly charg'd again, gave fully In RALPHO'S face another volley. The Knight was startled with the smell, 825 And for his sword began to feel; And RALPHO, smother'd with the stink, Grasp'd his; when one, that bore a link, O' th' sudden clapp'd his flaming cudgel, Like linstock, to the horse's touch-hole; 830 And straight another, with his flambeaux, Gave RALPHO'S o'er the eye a damn'd blow. The beasts began to kick and fling, And forc'd the rout to make a ring, Through which they quickly broke their way, 835 And brought them off from further fray; And though disorder'd in retreat, Each of them stoutly kept his seat For quitting both their swords and reins, They grasp'd with all their strength the manes, 840 And, to avoid the foe's pursuit, With spurring put their cattle to't; And till all four were out of wind, And danger too, ne'er look'd behind. After th' had paus'd a while, supplying 845 Their spirits, spent with fight and flying, And HUDIBRAS recruited force Of lungs, for action or discourse, Quoth he, That man is sure to lose That fouls his hands with dirty foes: 850 For where no honour's to be gain'd, 'Tis thrown away in b'ing maintain'd. 'Twas ill for us we had to do With so dishonourable a foe: For though the law of arms doth bar 855 The use of venom'd shot in war, Yet, by the nauseous smell, and noisome, Their case-shot savours strong of poison; And doubtless have been chew'd with teeth Of some that had a stinking breath; 860 Else, when we put it to the push, They have not giv'n us such a brush. But as those pultroons, that fling dirt, Do but defile, but cannot hurt, So all the honour they have won, 865 Or we have lost, is much as one, 'Twas well we made so resolute And brave retreat without pursuit; For if we had not, we had sped Much worse, to be in triumph led; 870 Than which the ancients held no state Of man's life more unfortunate. But if this bold adventure e'er Do chance to reach the widow's ear, It may, b'ing destin'd to assert 875 Her sex's honour, reach her heart: And as such homely treats (they say) Portend good fortune, so this may. VESPASIAN being daub'd with dirt, Was destin'd to the empire for't; 880 And from a Scavenger did come To be a mighty Prince in Rome And why may not this foul address Presage in love the same success Then let us straight, to cleanse our wounds, 885 Advance in quest of nearest ponds, And after (as we first design'd) Swear I've perform'd what she enjoin'd. NOTES TO PART II. CANTO II. 15 So th' ancient Stoicks, &c.] In Porticu (Stoicorum Schola Athenis) Discipulorum Seditionibus mille Quadrigenti triginta Cives interfecti sunt. -- Diog. Laert. In Vita Zenonis, p. 383. [One thousand four hundred and thirty citizens were killed in the quarrels of the disciples in the porch (of the Stoic School of Athens).] Those old Virtuosos were better proficients in those exercises than modern, who seldom improve higher than cuffing and kicking. 19 Bonum is such a kind of animal as our modern virtuosi from Don Quixote will have windmills under sail to be. The same authors are of opinion, that all ships are fishes while they are afloat; but when they are run on ground, & laid up, in the dock, become ships again. 413

in a town, &c.] The history of the Cobler had been attested by persons of good credit, who were upon the place when it was done. 548 Have been exchang'd, &c.] The knight was kept prisoner in Exeter, and, after several exchanges proposed, but none accepted of, was at last released for a barrel of ale, as he often used to declare. 678 Bore a slave with him in his chariot. ------ Et sibi Consul Me placeat, curru servus portatur eodem. [And it pleased the Consul to have me carried as a slave in his chariot] 683 Hung out, &c.] Tunica Coccinia solebat pridie quam dimicandum esset, supra praetorium poni, quasi admonito, & indicium futurae pugnae. [The praetors wore scarlet tunics on the day before the battle, for a warning, and a portent of the future. ] Lipsius in Tacit. p. 56. 687 next links, &c.] That the Roman Emperors were wont to have torches borne before them (by day) appears by Herodian in Pertinace. Lipsius in Tacit. p. 16. 879 Vespasian being dawb'd, &c.] C. Caesar sucensens, propter curam verrendis viis non adhibitam, Luto jussit appleri congesto per milites in praetexte sinum. Sueton. in Vespas. C.5. PART II CANTO III. THE ARGUMENT ------------------------------------------------- The Knight, with various Doubts possest, To win the Lady goes in quest Of Sidrophel, the Rosy-Crucian, To know the Dest'nies' Resolution; With whom being met, they both chop Logick About the Science Astrologick, Till falling from Dispute to Fight, The Conj'rer's worsted by the Knight. ------------------------------------------------- Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated as to cheat; As lookers-on feel most delight, That least perceive a jugler's slight; And still the less they understand, 5 The more th' admire his slight of hand. Some with a noise, and greasy light, Are snapt, as men catch larks by night; Ensnar'd and hamper'd by the soul, As nooses by their legs catch fowl l0 Some with a med'cine, and receipt, Are drawn to nibble at the bait; And tho' it be a two-foot trout, 'Tis with a single hair pull'd out. Others believe no voice t' an organ 15 So sweet as lawyer's in his bar-gown, Until with subtle cobweb-cheats Th'are catch'd in knotted law, like nets; In which, when once they are imbrangled, The more they stir, the more they're tangled; 20 And while their purses can dispute, There's no end of th' immortal suit. Others still gape t' anticipate The cabinet-designs of fate; Apply to wizards, to foresee 25 What shall and what shall never be; And, as those vultures do forebode, Believe events prove bad or good: A flam more senseless than the roguery Of old aruspicy and aug'ry. 30 That out of garbages of cattle Presag'd th' events of truce or battle; From flight of birds, or chickens pecking, Success of great'st attempts would reckon: Though cheats, yet more intelligible 35 Than those that with the stars do fribble. This HUDIBRAS by proof found true, As in due time and place we'll shew: For he, with beard and face made clean, B'ing mounted on his steed agen, 40 (And RALPHO got a cock-horse too Upon his beast, with much ado) Advanc'd on for the Widow's house, To acquit himself, and pay his vows; When various thoughts began to bustle, 45 And with his inward man to justle He thought what danger might accrue If she should find he swore untrue; Or if his squire or he should fail, And not be punctual in their tale: 50 It might at once the ruin prove Both of his honour, faith, and love. But if he should forbear to go, She might conclude h'had broke his vow; And that he durst not now for-shame 55 Appear in court to try his claim. This was the pen'worth of his thought, To pass time and uneasy trot. Quoth he, In all my past adventures I ne'er was set so on the tenters; 60 Or taken tardy with dilemma, That ev'ry way I turn does hem me, And with inextricable doubt Besets my puzzled wits about: For tho' the dame has been my bail, 65 To free me from enchanted jail, Yet as a dog, committed close For some offence, by chance breaks loose, And quits his clog, but all in vain, He still draws after him his chain; 70 So, though my ankle she has quitted, My heart continues still committed; And like a bail'd and main-priz'd lover, Altho' at large, I am bound over; And when I shall appear in court, 75 To plead my cause, and answer for't, Unless the judge do partial prove, What will become of me and love? For if in our account we vary, Or but in circumstance miscarry; 80 Or if she put me to strict proof, And make me pull my doublet off, To shew, by evident record Writ on my skin, I've kept my Word; How can I e'er expect to have her, 85 Having demurr'd onto her favour? But faith, and love, and honour lost,. Shall be reduc'd t' a Knight o' th' Post. Beside, that stripping may prevent What I'm to prove by argument, 90 And justify I have a tail And that way, too, my proof may fail. Oh that I cou'd enucleate, And solve the problems of my fate Or find, by necromantick art, 95 How far the dest'nies take my part For if I were not more than certain To win and wear her, and her fortune, I'd go no farther in his courtship, To hazard soul, estate, and worship 100 For though an oath obliges not Where any thing is to be got, (As thou last prov'd) yet 'tis profane, And sinful, when men swear in vain. Quoth RALPH, Not far from hence doth dwell 105 A cunning man, hight SIDROPHEL, That deals in destiny's dark counsels, And sage opinions of the Moon sells; To whom all people, far and near, On deep importances repair; 110 When brass and pewter hap to stray, And linen slinks out of the way; When geese and pullen are seduc'd, And sows of sucking-pigs are chows'd; When cattle feel indisposition, 115 And need th' opinion of physician; When murrain reigns in hogs or sheep. And chickens languish of the pip; When yeast and outward means do fail, And have no pow'r to work on ale: 120 When butter does refuse to come, And love proves cross and humoursome: To him with questions, and with urine, They for discov'ry flock, or curing. Quoth HUDIBRAS, This SIDROPHEL 125 I've heard of, and should like it well, If thou canst prove the Saints have freedom To go to Sorc'rers when they need 'em. Says RALPHO, There's no doubt of that Whose principles I quoted late, 130 Prove that the Godly may alledge For any thing their Privilege; And to the Dev'l himself may go, If they have motives thereunto. For, as there is a war between 135 The Dev'l and them, it is no sin, If they by subtle stratagem Make use of him, as he does them. Has not this present Parliament A Ledger to the Devil sent, 140 Fully impowr'd to treat about Finding revolted witches out And has not he, within a year, Hang'd threescore of 'em in one shire? Some only for not being drown'd, 145 And some for sitting above ground, Whole days and nights, upon their breeches, And feeling pain, were hang'd for witches. And some for putting knavish tricks Upon green geese and turky-chicks, 150 And pigs, that suddenly deceast Of griefs unnat'ral, as he guest; Who after prov'd himself a witch And made a rod for his own breech. Did not the Devil appear to MARTIN 155 LUTHER in Germany for certain; And wou'd have gull'd him with a trick, But Martin was too politick? Did he not help the Dutch to purge At ANTWERP their Cathedral Church? 160 Sing catches to the Saints at MASCON, And tell them all they came to ask him Appear'd in divers shapes to KELLY, And speak i' th' Nun of LOUDON's belly? Meet with the Parliament's Committee 165 At WOODSTOCK on a pers'nal treaty? At SARUM take a cavalier I' th' Cause's service prisoner As WITHERS, in immortal rhime, Has register'd to after-time! 170 Do not nor great Reformers use This SIDROPHEL to forebode news? To write of victories next year, And castles taken yet i' th' air Of battles fought at sea, and ships 175 Sank two years hence, the last eclipse? A total overthrow giv'n the King In Cornwall, horse and foot, next Spring! And has not he point-blank foretold Whats'e'er the Close Committee would? 180 Made Mars and Saturn for the Cause The moon for Fundamental Laws? The Ram, the Bull, and Goat declare Against the Book of Common-Pray'r? The Scorpion take the Protestation, 185 And Bear engage for Reformation? Made all the Royal Stars recant, Compound and take the Covenant? Quoth HUDIBRAS, The case is clear, The Saints may 'mploy a Conjurer, 190 As thou hast prov'd it by their practice; No argument like matter of fact is; And we are best of all led to Men's principles by what they do. Then let us straight advance in quest 195 Of this profound Gymnosophist And as the Fates and he advise, Pursue or wave this enterprise, This said, he turn'd about his steed, And eftsoons on th' adventure rid; 200 Where leave we him and RALPH a while, And to the Conjurer turn our stile, To let our reader understand What's useful of him before-hand. He had been long t'wards mathematicks, 205 Optics, philosophy, and staticks, Magick, horoscopy, astrology, And was old dog at physiology But as a dog that turns the spit Bestirs himself, and plies his feet, 210 To climb the wheel, but all in vain, His own weight brings him down again, And still he's in the self-same place Where at his setting out h was So in the circle of the arts 215 Did he advance his nat'ral parts, Till falling back still, for retreat, He fell to juggle, cant, and cheat: For as those fowls that live in water Are never wet, he did but smatter: 220 Whate'er he labour'd to appear, His understanding still was clear Yet none a deeper knowledge boasted, Since old HODGE-BACON and BOB GROSTED. Th' Intelligible World he knew, 225 And all men dream on't to be true; That in this world there's not a wart That has not there a counterpart; Nor can there on the face of ground An individual beard be found, 230 That has not, in that foreign nation, A fellow of the self-same fashion So cut, so colour'd, and so curl'd, As those are in th' Inferior World. H' had read DEE's Prefaces before, 235 The DEV'L, and EUCLID, o'er and o'er; And all the intrigues 'twixt him and KELLY, LESCUS and th' EMPEROR, wou'd tell ye; But with the Moon was more familiar Than e'er was almanack well-willer; 240 Her secrets understood so clear, That some believ'd he had been there; Knew when she was in the fittest mood For cutting corns, or letting blood; When for anointing scabs or itches, 245 Or to the bum applying leeches; When sows and bitches may be spay'd, And in what sign best cyder's made: Whether the wane be, or increase, Best to set garlick, or sow pease: 250 Who first found out the Man i' th' Moon, That to the ancients was unknown; How many dukes, and earls, and peers, Are in the planetary spheres; Their airy empire and command, 255 Their sev'ral strengths by sea and land; What factions th' have, and what they drive at In public vogue, or what in private; With what designs and interests Each party manages contests. 260 He made an instrument to know If the Moon shine at full or no; That wou'd as soon as e'er she shone, straight Whether 'twere day or night demonstrate; Tell what her d'meter t' an inch is, 265 And prove that she's not made of green cheese. It wou'd demonstrate, that the Man in The Moon's a Sea Mediterranean; And that it is no dog nor bitch, That stands behind him at his breech, 270 But a huge Caspian Sea, or lake, With arms, which men for legs mistake; How large a gulph his tail composes, And what a goodly bay his nose is; How many German leagues by th' scale 275 Cape Snout's from Promontory Tail. He made a planetary gin, Which rats would run their own heads in, And cause on purpose to be taken, Without th' expence of cheese or bacon. 280 With lute-strings he would counterfeit Maggots that crawl on dish of meat: Quote moles and spots on any place O' th' body, by the index face: Detect lost maiden-heads by sneezing, 285 Or breaking wind of dames, or pissing; Cure warts and corns with application Of med'cines to th' imagination; Fright agues into dogs, and scare With rhimes the tooth-ach and catarrh; 290 Chace evil spirits away by dint Of cickle, horse-shoe, hollow-flint; Spit fire out of a walnut-shell, Which made the Roman slaves rebel; And fire a mine in China here 295 With sympathetic gunpowder. He knew whats'ever's to be known, But much more than he knew would own; What med'cine 'twas that PARACELSUS Could make a man with, as he tells us; 300 What figur'd slates are best to make On watry surface duck or drake; What bowling-stones, in running race Upon a board, have swiftest pace; Whether a pulse beat in the black 305 List of a dappled louse's back; If systole or diastole move Quickest when he's in wrath or love When two of them do run a race, Whether they gallop, trot, or pace: 310 How many scores a flea will jump, Of his own length, from head to rump; Which SOCRATES and CHAEREPHON, In vain, assay'd so long agon; Whether his snout a perfect nose is, 315 And not an elephant's proboscis How many diff'rent specieses Of maggots breed in rotten cheese And which are next of kin to those Engender'd in a chandler's nose; 320 Or those not seen, but understood, That live in vinegar and wood. A paultry wretch he had, half-starv'd, That him in place of Zany serv'd. Hight WHACHUM, bred to dash and draw, 325 Not wine, but more unwholesome law To make 'twixt words and lines huge gaps, Wide as meridians in maps; To squander paper, and spare ink, And cheat men of their words, some think. 330 From this, by merited degrees, He'd to more high advancement rise; To be an under-conjurer, A journeyman astrologer. His business was to pump and wheedle, 335 And men with their own keys unriddle; And make them to themselves give answers, For which they pay the necromancers; To fetch and carry intelligence, Of whom, and what, and where, and whence, 340 And all discoveries disperse Among th' whole pack of conjurers What cut-purses have left with them For the right owners to redeem; And what they dare not vent find out, 345 To gain themselves and th' art repute; Draw figures, schemes, and horoscopes, Of Newgate, Bridewell, brokers' shops, Of thieves ascendant in the cart; And find out all by rules of art; 350 Which way a serving-man, that's run With cloaths or money away, is gone: Who pick'd a fob at holding forth; And where a watch, for half the worth, May be redeem'd; or stolen plate 355 Restor'd at conscionable rate. Beside all this, he serv'd his master In quality of poetaster; And rhimes appropriate could make To ev'ry month i' th almanack 360 What terms begin and end could tell, With their returns, in doggerel; When the exchequer opes and shuts, And sowgelder with safety cuts When men may eat and drink their fill, 365 And when be temp'rate, if they will; When use and when abstain from vice, Figs, grapes, phlebotomy, and spice. And as in prison mean rogues beat Hemp for the service of the great, 370 So WHACHUM beats his dirty brains, T' advance his master's fame and gains And, like the Devil's oracles, Put into doggrel rhimes his spells, Which, over ev'ry month's blank page 375 I' th' almanack, strange bilks presage. He would an elegy compose On maggots squeez'd out of his nose; In lyrick numbers write an ode on His mistress, eating a black-pudden: 380 And when imprison'd air escap'd her, It puft him with poetic rapture. His sonnets charm'd th' attentive crowd, By wide-mouth'd mortal troll'd aloud, That 'circl'd with his long-ear'd guests, 385 Like ORPHEUS look'd among the beasts. A carman's horse could not pass by, But stood ty'd up to poetry: No porter's burthen pass'd along, But serv'd for burthen to his song: 390 Each window like a pill'ry appears, With heads thrust through, nail'd by the ears All trades run in as to the sight Of monsters, or their dear delight The gallow tree, when cutting purse 395 Breeds bus'ness for heroic verse, Which none does hear, but would have hung T' have been the theme of such a song. Those two together long had liv'd, In mansion prudently contriv'd; 400 Where neither tree nor house could bar The free detection of a star And nigh an ancient obelisk Was rais'd by him, found out by FISK, On which was a written not in words, 405 But hieroglyphic mute of birds, Many rare pithy saws concerning The worth of astrologic learning. From top of this there hung a rope, To a which he fasten'd telescope; 410 The spectacles with which the stars He reads in smallest characters. It happen'd as a boy, one night, Did fly his tarsel of a kite, The strangest long-wing'd hawk that flies, 415 That, like a bird of Paradise, Or herald's martlet, has no legs, Nor hatches young ones, nor lays eggs; His train was six yards long, milk-white, At th' end of which there hung a light, 420 Inclos'd in lanthorn, made of paper, That far off like a star did appear. This SIDROPHEL by chance espy'd, And with amazement staring wide, Bless us! quoth he, what dreadful wonder 425 Is that appears in heaven yonder? A comet, and without a beard! Or star that ne'er before appear'd! I'm certain 'tis not in the scrowl Of all those beasts, and fish, and fowl, 430 With which, like Indian plantations, The learned stock the constellations Nor those that draw for signs have bin To th' houses where the planets inn. It must be supernatural, 435 Unless it be that cannon-ball That, shot i' th' air point-blank upright, Was borne to that prodigious height, That learn'd Philosophers maintain, It ne'er came backwards down again; 440 But in the airy region yet Hangs like the body of MAHOMET For if it be above the shade That by the earth's round bulk is made, 'Tis probable it may from far 445 Appear no bullet, but a star. This said, he to his engine flew, Plac'd near at hand, in open view, And rais'd it 'till it levell'd right Against the glow-worm tail of kite, 450 Then peeping thro', Bless us! (quoth he) It is a planet, now I see And, if I err not, by his proper Figure, that's like tobacco-stopper, It should be Saturn. Yes, 'tis clear 455 'Tis Saturn; but what makes him there? He's got between the Dragon's Tail And farther Leg behind o' th' Whale. Pray heav'n divert the fatal omen, For 'tis a prodigy not common; 460 And can no less than the world's end, Or Nature's funeral, portend. With that he fell again to pry. Thro' perspective more wistfully, When by mischance the fatal string, 465 That kept the tow'ring fowl on wing, Breaking, down fell the star. Well shot, Quoth WHACHUM, who right wisely thought H' had levell'd at a star, and hit it But SIDROPHEL, more subtle-witted, 470 Cry'd out, What horrible and fearful Portent is this, to see a star fall? It threatens nature, and the doom Will not be long before it come When stars do fail, 'tis plain enough, 475 The day of judgment's not far off; As lately 'twas reveal'd to SEDGWICK, And some of us find out by magick. Then since the time we have to live In this world's shorten'd, let us strive 480 To make our best advantage of it, And pay our losses with our profit. This feat fell out not long before The Knight, upon the forenam'd score, In quest of SIDROPHEL advancing, 485 Was now in prospect of the mansion Whom he discov'ring, turn'd his glass, And found far off, 'twas HUDIBRAS. WHACHUM, (quoth he), look yonder, some To try or use our art are come 490 The one's the learned Knight: seek out, And pump 'em what they come about. WHACHUM advanc'd, with all submissness, T' accost em, but much more their bus'ness. He held a stirrup, while the Knight 495 From leathern bare-bones did alight And taking from his hand the bridle, Approach'd the dark Squire to unriddle. He gave him first the time o' th' day, And welcom'd him, as he might say: 500 He ask'd him whence he came, and whither Their bus'ness lay? Quoth RALPHO, Hither. Did you not lose? Quoth RALPHO, Nay. Quoth WHACHUM, Sir, I meant your way! Your Knight -- Quoth RALPHO, Is a lover, 505 And pains intolerable doth suffer: For lovers' hearts are not their own hearts, Nor lights, nor lungs, and so forth downwards. What time, (quoth RALPHO), Sir? -- Too long Three years it off and on has hung. -- 510 Quoth he, I meant what time o'the day 'tis. -- Quoth RALPHO, Between seven and eight 'tis. Why then, (quoth Whachum) my small art Tells me, the dame has a hard heart, Or great estate. -- Quoth RALPH, A jointer, 515 Which makes him have so hot a mind t'her. Mean while the Knight was making water, Before he fell upon the matter; Which having done, the Wizard steps in, To give him suitable reception 520 But kept his bus'ness at a bay Till WHACHUM put him in the way; Who having now, by RALPHO's light. Expounded th' errand of the Knight, And what he came to know, drew near, 525 To whisper in the Conj'rer's ear, Which he prevented thus: What was't, Quoth he, that I was saying last, Before these gentlemen arriv'd? Quoth WHACHUM, Venus you retriev'd, 530 In opposition with Mars, And no benigne friendly stars T' allay the effect. -- Quoth Wizard, So In Virgo? Ha! -- Quoth WHACHUM, No. Has Saturn nothing to do in it? 535 One-tenth of's circle to a minute. 'Tis well, quoth he. -- Sir, you'll excuse This rudeness I am forc'd to use It is a scheme and face of Heaven, As the aspects are dispos'd this even, 540 I was contemplating upon When you arriv'd; but now I've done, Quoth HUDIBRAS, If I appear Unseasonable in coming here At such a tone, to interrupt, 545 Your speculations, which I hop'd Assistance from, and come to use, 'T is fit that I ask your excuse. By no means, Sir, quoth SIDROPHEL; The stars your coming did foretel: 550 I did expect you here, and knew, Before you spake, your bus'ness too. Quoth HUDIBRAS, Make that appear, And I shall credit whatsoe'er You tell me after on your word, 555 Howe'er unlikely, or absurd. You are in love, Sir, with a widow, Quoth he, that does not greatly heed you, And for three years has rid your wit And passion without drawing bit: 560 And now your bus'ness is to know, If you shall carry her or no. Quoth HUDIBRAS, You're in the right; But how the Devil you came by't I can't imagine; for the Stars, 565 I'm sure, can tell no more than a horse; Nor can their aspects (though you pore Your eyes out on 'em) tell you more Than th' oracle of sieve and sheers, That turns as certain as the spheres: 570 But if the Devil's of your counsel, Much may be done my noble Donzel; And 'tis on his account I come, To know from you my fatal doom. Quoth SIDROPHEL, If you Suppose, 575 Sir Knight, that I am one of those, I might suspect, and take the alarm, Your bus'ness is but to inform; But if it be, 'tis ne'er the near; You have a wrong sow by the ear; 580 For I assure you, for my part, I only deal by rules of art, Such as are lawful, and judge by Conclusions of Astrology: But for the Dev'l, know nothing by him; 585 But only this, that I defy him. Quoth he, Whatever others deem ye, I understand your metonymy: Your words of second-hand intention, When things by wrongful names you mention; 590 The mystick sense of all your terms, That are, indeed, but magick charms To raise the Devil, and mean one thing, And that is down-right conjuring; And in itself more warrantable, 595 Than cheat, or canting to a rabble, Or putting tricks upon the Moon, Which by confed'racy are done. Your ancient conjurers were wont To make her from her sphere dismount. 600 And to their incantations stoop: They scorn'd to pore thro' telescope, Or idly play at bo-peep with her, To find out cloudy or fair weather, Which ev'ry almanack can tell, 605 Perhaps, as learnedly and well, As you yourself -- Then, friend, I doubt You go the furthest way about. Your modern Indian magician Makes but a hole in th' earth to piss in, 610 And straight resolves all questions by't, And seldom fails to be i'th' right. The Rosy-Crucian way's more sure To bring the Devil to the lure; Each of 'em has a sev'ral gin 615 To catch intelligences in. Some by the nose with fumes trepan 'em, As DUNSTAN did the Devil's grannam; Others, with characters and words, Catch 'em, as men in nets do birds; 620 And some with symbols, signs, and tricks, Engrav'd with planetary nicks, With their own influences will fetch 'em Down from their orbs, arrest, and catch 'em; Make 'em depose and answer to 625 All questions e're they let them go. BUMBASTUS kept a Devil's bird Shut in the pummel of his sword, That taught him all the cunning pranks Of past and future mountebanks. 630 KELLY did all his feats upon The Devil's looking-glass, a stone; Where playing with him at bo-peep, He solv'd all problems ne'er so deep. AGRIPPA kept a Stygian pug, 635 I' th' garb and habit of a dog, That was his tutor, and the cur Read to th' occult philosopher, And taught him subt'ly to maintain All other sciences are vain. 640 To this, quoth SIDROPHELLO, Sir, AGRIPPA was no conjurer, Nor PARACELSUS, no, nor BEHMEN; Nor was the dog a Cacodaemon, But a true dog, that would shew tricks 645 For th' emperor, and leap o'er sticks; Would fetch and carry; was more civil Than other dogs, but yet no Devil; And whatsoe'er he's said to do, He went the self-same way we go. 650 As for the Rosy-Cross Philosophers, Whom you will have to be but sorcerers, What they pretend to is no more, Than TRISMEGISTUS did before, PYTHAGORAS, old ZOROASTER, 655 And APOLLONIUS their master; To whom they do confess they owe All that they do, and all they know. Quoth HUDIBRAS, Alas! what is't t' us, Whether 'twas said by TRISMEGISTUS, 660 If it be nonsense, false, or mystick, Or not intelligible, or sophistick? 'Tis not antiquity, nor author, That makes Truth Truth, altho' Times daughter; 'Twas he that put her in the pit 665 Before he pull'd her out of it; And as he eats his sons, just so He feeds upon his daughters too. Nor does it follow, 'cause a herald, Can make a gentleman, scarce a year old, 670 To be descended of a race Of ancient kings in a small space, That we should all opinions hold Authentic that we can make old. Quoth SIDROPHEL, It is no part 675 Of prudence to cry down an art, And what it may perform deny, Because you understand not why (As AVERHOIS play'd but a mean trick To damn our whole art for eccentrick:) 680 For Who knows all that knowledge contains Men dwell not on the tops of mountains, But on their sides, or rising's seat So 'tis with knowledge's vast height. Do not the hist'ries of all ages 685 Relate miraculous presages, Of strange turns in the world's affairs, Foreseen b' Astrologers, Soothsayers, Chaldeans, learn'd Genethliacks, And some that have writ almanacks? 690 The MEDIA N emp'ror dreamt his daughter Had pist all ASIA under water, And that a vine, sprung from her haunches, O'erspread his empire with its branches: And did not soothsayers expound it, 695 As after by th' event he found it? When CAESAR in the senate fell, Did not the sun eclips'd foretel, And, in resentment of his slaughter, Look'd pale for almost a year after? 700 AUGUSTUS having, b' oversight, Put on his left shoe 'fore his right, Had like to have been slain that day By soldiers mutin'ing for pay. Are there not myriads of this sort, 705 Which stories of all times report? Is it not ominous in all countries When crows and ravens croak upon trees? The Roman senate, when within The city walls an owl was seen 710 Did cause their clergy, with lustrations, (Our Synod calls humiliations), The round-fac'd prodigy t'avert From doing town or country hurt And if an owl have so much pow'r, 715 Why should not planets have much more, That in a region far above Inferior fowls of the air move, And should see further, and foreknow More than their augury below? 720 Though that once serv'd the polity Of mighty states to govern by And this is what we take in hand By pow'rful art to understand Which, how we have perform'd, all ages 725 Can speak th' events of our presages Have we not lately, in the Moon, Found a New World, to the Old unknown? Discover'd sea and land, COLUMBUS And MAGELLAN cou'd never compass? 730 Made mountains with our tubes appear, And cattle grazing on 'em there? Quoth HUDIBRAS, You lie so ope, That I, without a telescope, Can mind your tricks out, and descry 735 Where you tell truth, and where you lye: For

ANAXAGORAS, long agon, Saw hills, as well as you, i' th' Moon; And held the Sun was but a piece Of red-hot ir'n, as big as Greece; 740 Believ'd the Heav'ns were made of stone, Because the Sun had voided one; And, rather than he would recant Th' opinion, suffer'd banishment. But what, alas! is it to us, 745 Whether i' th' Moon men thus or thus Do eat their Porridge, cut their corns, Or whether they have tails or horns? What trade from thence can you advance, But what we nearer have from France? 750 What can our travellers bring home, That is not to be learnt at Rome? What politicks, or strange opinions, That are not in our own dominions? What science can he brought from thence, 755 In which we do not here commence? What revelations, or religions, That are not in our native regions? Are sweating lanthorns, or screen-fans, Made better there than th' are in France? 760 Or do they teach to sing and play O' th' gittar there a newer way? Can they make plays there, that shall fit The public humour, with less wit? Write wittier dances, quainter shows, 765 Or fight with more ingenious blows? Or does the man i' th' moon look big, And wear a huger perriwig, Shew in his gait or face more tricks, Than our own native lunaticks? 770 And if w' out-do him here at home, What good of your design can come? As wind i' th' hypocondries pent, Is but a blast if downward sent, But if it upward chance to fly, 775 Becomes new Light and Prophecy So when your speculations tend Above their just and useful end, Although they promise strange and great Discoveries of things far set, 780 They are but idle dreams and fancies, And savour strongly of the ganzas. Tell me but what's the natural cause, Why on a sign no painter draws The full moon ever, but the half; 785 Resolve that with your JACOB's staff; Or why wolves raise a hubbub at her, And dogs howl when she shines in water; And I shall freely give my vote, You may know something more remote. 790 At this deep SIDROPHEL look'd wise, And staring round with owl-like eyes, He put his face into a posture Of sapience, and began to bluster: For having three times shook his head 795 To stir his wit up, thus he said Art has no mortal enemies, Next ignorance, but owls and geese; Those consecrated geese in orders, That to the Capitol were warders; 800 And being then upon patrol, With noise alone beat off the Gaul: Or those Athenian Sceptic owls, That will not credit their own souls; Or any science understand, 805 Beyond the reach of eye or hand; But meas'ring all things by their own Knowledge, hold nothing's to be known Those wholesale criticks, that in coffee- Houses cry down all philosophy, 810 And will not know upon what ground In nature we our doctrine found, Altho' with pregnant evidence We can demonstrate it to sense, As I just now have done to you, 815 Foretelling what you came to know. Were the stars only made to light Robbers and burglarers by night? To wait on drunkards, thieves, gold-finders, And lovers solacing behind doors, 820 Or giving one another pledges Of matrimony under hedges? Or witches simpling, and on gibbets Cutting from malefactors snippets? Or from the pillory tips of ears 825 Of Rebel-Saints and perjurers? Only to stand by, and look on, But not know what is said or done? Is there a constellation there, That was not born and bred up here? 830 And therefore cannot be to learn In any inferior concern. Were they not, during all their lives, Most of 'em pirates, whores and thieves; And is it like they have not still 835 In their old practices some skill Is there a planet that by birth Does not derive its house from earth? And therefore probably must know, What is and hath been done below. 840 Who made the Balance, or whence came The Bull, the Lion, and the Ram? Did not we here the Argo rig, Make BERENICE's periwig? Whose liv'ry does the Coachman wear? 845 Or who made Cassiopeia's chair? And therefore, as they came from hence, With us may hold intelligence. PLATO deny'd the world can be Govern'd without geometree, 850 (For money b'ing the common scale Of things by measure, weight, and tale, In all th' affairs of Church and State, 'Tis both the balance and the weight;) Then much less can it be without 855 Divine Astrology made out; That puts the other down in worth, As far as Heav'n's above the earth. These reasons (quoth the Knight) I grant Are something more significant 860 Than any that the learned use Upon this subject to produce; And yet th' are far from satisfactory, T' establish and keep up your factory. Th' Egyptians say, the Sun has twice 865 Shifted his setting and his rise Twice has he risen in the west, As many times set in the east; But whether that be true or no, The Dev'l any of you know. 870 Some hold the heavens like a top, And kept by circulation. up; And, were't not for their wheeling round, They'd instantly fall to the ground: As sage EMPEDOCLES of old, And from him modern authors hold. 875 PLATO believ'd the Sun and Moon Below all other Planets run. Some MERCURY, some VENUS, seat Above the Sun himself in height. The learned SCALIGER complain'd, 880 Gainst what COPERNICUS maintain'd, That, in twelve hundred years and odd, The Sun had left its ancient road, And nearer to time earth is come 'Bove fifty thousand miles from home: 885 Swore 'twas a most notorious flam; And he that had so little shame To vent such fopperies abroad, Deserv'd to have his rump well claw'd; Which Monsieur BODIN hearing, swore 890 That he deserv'd the rod much more, That durst upon a truth give doom; He knew less than the Pope of Rome. CARDAN believ'd great states depend Upon the tip o' th' Bear's tail's end; 895 That, as she whisk'd it t'wards the Sun, Strow'd mighty empires up and down; Which others say must needs be false, Because your true bears have no tails. Some say the Zodiack Constellations 900 Have long since chang'd their antique stations Above a sign, and prove the same In Taurus now once in the Ram; Affirm the trigons chop'd and chang'd, The wat'ry with the fiery rang'd: 905 Then how can their effects still hold To be the same they were of old? This, though the art were true, would make Our modern soothsayers mistake: 910 And in one cause they tell more lies, In figures and nativities, Than th' old Chaldean conjurers In so many hundred thousand years Beside their nonsense in translating, 915 For want of accidence and Latin, Like Idus, and Calendae, Englisht The quarter-days by skilful linguist; And yet with canting, sleight and, cheat, 'Twill serve their turn to do the feat; 920 Make fools believe in their foreseeing Of things before they are in being To swallow gudgeons ere th' are catch'd; And count their chickens ere th' are hatch'd Make them the constellations prompt, 925 And give 'em back their own accompt But still the best to him that gives The best price for't, or best believes. Some towns and cities, some, for brevity, Have cast the 'versal world's nativity, 930 And made the infant-stars confess, Like fools or children, what they please. Some calculate the hidden fates Of monkeys, puppy-dogs, and cats Some running-nags and fighting cocks, 935 Some love, trade, law-suits, and the pox; Some take a measure of the lives Of fathers, mothers, husbands, wives; Make opposition, trine, and quartile, Tell who is barren, and who fertile; 940 As if the planet's first aspect The tender infant did infect In soul and body, and instill All future good, and future ill; Which, in their dark fatalities lurking, 945 At destin'd periods fall a working; And break out, like the hidden seeds Of long diseases, into deeds, In friendships, enmities, and strife, And all the emergencies of life. 950 No sooner does he peep into The world, but he has done his do; Catch'd all diseases, took all physick That cures or kills a man that is sick; Marry'd his punctual dose of wives; 955 Is cuckolded, and breaks or thrives. There's but the twinkling of a star Between a man of peace and war; A thief and justice, fool and knave, A huffing officer and a slave; 960 A crafty lawyer and a pick-pocket, A great philosopher and a blockhead; A formal preacher and a player, A learn'd physician and manslayer. As if men from the stars did suck 965 Old age, diseases, and ill-luck, Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice, Trade, travel, women, claps, and dice; And draw, with the first air they breathe, Battle and murder, sudden death. 970 Are not these fine commodities To be imported from the skies, And vended here amongst the rabble, For staple goods and warrantable? Like money by the Druids borrow'd, 975 In th' other world to be restor'd? Quoth SIDROPHEL, To let you know You wrong the art, and artists too, Since arguments are lost on those That do our principles oppose, 980 I will (although I've done't before) Demonstrate to your sense once more, And draw a figure, that shall tell you What you, perhaps, forget befel you, By way of horary inspection, 985 Which some account our worst erection. With that he circles draws, and squares, With cyphers, astral characters; Then looks 'em o'er, to und'erstand 'em, Although set down hob-nab, at random. 990 Quoth he, This scheme of th' heavens set, Discovers how in fight you met At Kingston with a may-pole idol, And that y' were bang'd both back and side well; And though you overcame the bear, 995 The dogs beat you at Brentford fair; Where sturdy butchers broke your noddle, And handled you like a fop-doodle. Quoth HUDIBRAS, I now perceive You are no conj'rer, by your leave; 1000 That paultry story is untrue, And forg'd to cheat such gulls as you. Not true? quoth he; howe'er you vapour, I can what I affirm make appear. WHACHUM shall justify't t' your face, 1005 And prove he was upon the place. He play'd the Saltinbancho's part, Transform'd t' a Frenchman by my art He stole your cloak, and pick'd your pocket, Chows'd and caldes'd ye like a blockhead: 1010 And what you lost I can produce, If you deny it, here i' th' house. Quoth HUDIBRAS, I do believe That argument's demonstrative. RALPHO, bear witness; and go fetch us 1015 A constable to seize the wretches For though th' are both false knaves and cheats, Impostors, jugglers, counterfeits, I'll make them serve for perpendiculars As true as e'er were us'd by bricklayers. 1020 They're guilty, by their own confessions, Of felony, and at the sessions, Upon the bench, I will so handle 'em, That the vibration of this pendulum Shalt make all taylors yards of one 1025 Unanimous opinion, A thing he long has vapour'd of, But now shall wake it out of proof. Quoth SIDROPHEL, I do not doubt To find friends that will bear me out, 1030 Nor have I hazarded my art, And neck, so long on the state's part, To be expos'd i' th' end to suffer By such a braggadocio huffer. Huffer! quoth HUDIBRAS: this sword 1035 Shall down thy false throat craw that word. RALPHO, make haste, and call an officer, To apprehend this Stygian sophister, Meanwhile I'll hold 'em at a bay, Lest he and WHACHUM run away. 1040 But SIDROPHEL who, from the aspect Of HUDIBRAS did now erect A figure worse portenting far Than that of a malignant star, Believ'd it now the fittest moment 1045 To shun the danger that might come on't, While HUDIBRAS was all alone, And he and WHACHUM, two to one. This being resolv'd, he spy'd, by chance, Behind the door, an iron lance, 1050 That many a sturdy limb had gor'd, And legs, and loins, and shoulders bor'd: He snatch'd it up, and made a pass, To make his way through HUDIBRAS. WHACHUM had got a fire-fork, 1055 With which he vow'd to do his work. But HUDIBRAS was well prepar'd, And stoutly stood upon his guard: He put by SIDROPHELLO'S thrust, And in right manfully he rusht; l060 The weapon from his gripe he wrung, And laid him on the earth along. WHACHUM his sea-coal prong threw by, And basely turn'd his back to fly But HUDIBRAS gave him a twitch 1065 As quick as light'ning in the breech, Just in the place where honour's lodg'd, As wise philosophers have judg'd; Because a kick in that place more Hurts honour than deep wounds before. 1070 Quoth HUDIBRAS, The stars determine You are my prisoners, base vermine! Could they not tell you so as well As what I came to know foretell? By this what cheats you are we find, 1075 That in your own concerns are blind. Your lives are now at my dispose, To be redeem'd by fine or blows: But who his honour wou'd defile, To take or sell two lives so vile? 1080 I'll give you quarter; but your pillage, The conq'ring warrior's crop and tillage, Which with his sword he reaps and plows, That's mine, the law of arms allows. This said, in haste, in haste he fell 1085 To rummaging of SIDROPHEL. First, he expounded both his pockets, And found a watch, with rings and lockets, Which had been left with him t' erect A figure for, and so detect; 1090 A copper-plate, with almanacks Engrav'd upon't; with other knacks, Of BOOKER's LILLY's, SARAH JIMMERS', And blank-schemes to discover nimmers; A moon-dial, with Napier's bones, 1095 And sev'ral constellation stones, Engrav'd in planetary hours, That over mortals had strange powers To make 'em thrive in law or trade, And stab or poison to evade; 1100 In wit or wisdom to improve, And be victorious in love, WHACHUM had neither cross nor pile; His plunder was not worth the while; All which the conq'rer did discompt, 1105 To pay for curing of his rump. But SIDROPHEL, as full of tricks As Rota-men of politicks, Straight cast about to over-reach Th' unwary conqu'ror with a fetch, 1110 And make him clad (at least) to quit His victory, and fly the pit, Before the Secular Prince of Darkness Arriv'd to seize upon his carcass? And as a fox, with hot pursuit 1115 Chac'd thro' a warren, casts about To save his credit, and among Dead vermin on a gallows hung, And while the dogs run underneath, Escap'd (by counterfeiting death) 1120 Not out of cunning, but a train Of atoms justling in his brain, As learn'd philosophers give out, So SIDROPHELLO cast about, And fell to's wonted trade again, 1125 To feign himself in earnest slain: First stretch'd out one leg, than another, And seeming in his breath to smother A broken sigh; quoth he, Where am I, Alive or dead? or which way came I, 1130 Through so immense a space so soon But now I thought myself in th' Moon And that a monster with huge whiskers, More formidable than a Switzer's, My body through and through had drill'd, 1135 And WHACHUM by my side had kill'd: Had cross-examin'd both our hose, And plunder'd all we had to lose. Look, there he is; I see him now, And feel the place I am run through: 1140 And there lies WHACHUM by my side Stone dead, and in his own blood dy'd. Oh! Oh! with that he fetch'd a groan, And fell again into a swoon; Shut both his eyes, and stopp'd his breath, 1145 And to the life out-acted death; That HUDIBRAS, to all appearing, Believ'd him to be dead as herring. He held it now no longer safe To tarry the return of RALPH, 1150 But rather leave him in the lurch: Thought he, he has abus'd our Church, Refus'd to give himself one firk To carry on the publick work; Despis'd our Synod-men like dirt, 1155 And made their discipline his sport; Divulg'd the secrets of their classes, And their conventions prov'd high places; Disparag'd their tythe-pigs as Pagan, And set at nought their cheese and bacon; 1160 Rail'd at their Covenant, and jeer'd Their rev'rend parsons to my beard: For all which scandals, to be quit At once, this juncture falls out fit, I'll make him henceforth to beware, 1165 And tempt my fury, if he dare. He must at least hold up his hand, By twelve freeholders to be scann'd; Who, by their skill in palmistry, Will quickly read his destiny; 1170 And make him glad to read his lesson, Or take a turn for it at the session; Unless his Light and Gifts prove truer Then ever yet they did, I'm sure; For if he scape with whipping now, 1175 'Tis more than he can hope to do; And that will disengage my conscience Of th' obligation in his own sense, I'll make him now by force abide What he by gentle means deny'd, 1180 To give my honour satisfaction, And right the Brethren in the action. This being resolv'd, with equal speed And conduct he approach'd his steed, And with activity unwont, 1185 Assay'd the lofty beast to mount; Which once atchiev'd, he spurr'd his palfrey, To get from th' enemy, and RALPH, free Left dangers, fears, and foes behind, And beat, at least three lengths, the wind. 1190 NOTES TO PART II. CANTO III. 140 A Ledger, &c.] The Witch-finder in Suffolk, who, in the Presbyterian times, had a commission to discover witches, of whom (right or wrong) he caused 60 to be hanged within the compass of year; and, among the rest, the old minister, who been a painful preacher for many years. 159 Did he not help the Dutch, &c.] In the beginning of the Civil Wars of Flanders, the common people of Antwerp in a tumult broke open the cathedral church, to demolish images and shrines, and did so much mischief in a small time, that Strada writes, there were several Devils seen very busy among them, otherwise it had been impossible. 161 Sing catches, &c.] This Devil at Mascon delivered all his oracles, like his forefathers, in verse, which he sung to tunes. He made several lampoons upon the Hugonots, and foretold them many things which afterwards came to pass; as may be seen his Memoirs, written in French. 163 Appear'd in divers, &c.] The History of Dee and the Devil, published by Mer. Casaubon, Isaac Fil. Prebendary of Canterbury, has a large account of all those passages, in which the stile of the true and false angels appears to be penned by one and the same person. The Nun of Loudon, in France, and all her tricks, have been seen by many persons of quality of this nation yet living, who have made very good observations upon the French book written on that occasion. 165 Met with, &c] A Committee of the Long Parliament, sitting in the King's-house in Woodstock Park, were terrified with several apparitions, the particulars whereof were then the news of the whole nation. 157 At Sarum, &c.] Withers has a long story, in doggerel, of a soldier in the King's army, who being a prisoner at Salisbury, and drinking a health to the Devil upon his knees, was carried away by him through a single pane of glass. 224 Since old Hodge Bacon, &c.] Roger Bacon, commonly called Friar Bacon, lived in the reign of Edward I. and, for some little skill he had in the mathematicks, was by the rabble accounted a conjurer, and had the sottish story of the Brazen Head fathered upon him by the ignorant Monks of those days. Robert Grosthead was Bishop of Lincoln in the of Henry III. He was a learned man for those times, and for that reason suspected by the Clergy to be a Conjurer; for which crime, being degraded by Innocent IV. and summoned to appear at Rome, appealed to the tribunal of Christ; which our lawyers say is illegal, if not a Praemunire, for offering to sue in a Foreign Court. 513 Which Socrates, &c.] Aristophanes, in his comedy of the Clouds, brings in Socrates and Chaerephon, measuring the leap of a flea from the one's beard to the other's. 404 Was rais'd by him, &c.] This Fisk was a famous astrologer, who flourished about the time of Subtile and Face, and was equally celebrated by Ben Jonson. 436 Unless it be, &c.] This experiment was tried by some foreign Virtuosos, who planted a piece of ordnance point-blank against the Zenith, and having fired it, the bullet never rebounded back again; which made them all conclude that it sticks in the mark: but Des Cartes was of opinion, that it does but hang in the air. 477 As lately 't was, &c.] This Sedgwick had many persons (and some of quality) that believed in him, and prepared to keep the day of judgment with him, but were disappointed; for which the false prophet was afterwards called by the name of Dooms- day Sedgwick. 609 Your modern Indian &c.] This compendious new way of magick is affirmed by Monsieur Le Blanc (in his travels) to be used in the East Indies. 627 Bumbastus kept, &c.] Paracelsus is said to have kept a small devil prisoner in the pummel of his sword, which was the reason, perhaps, why he was so valiant in his drink. Howsoever, it was to better purpose than Hannibal carried poison in his, to dispatch himself; for the sword alone would have done the feat much better, and more soldier-like; and it was below the honour of so great a commander, to go out of the world like a rat. 635 Agrippa kept &c.] Cornelius Agrippa had a dog which was suspected to be a spirit, for some tricks he was wont to do beyond the capacity of a dog, as it was thought; but the author of Magia Adamica has taken a great deal of pains to vindicate both the doctor and the dog from the aspersion, in which he has shewn a very great respect and kindness for them both. 679 As Averrhois, &c.] Averrhois Astronomium propter Excentricos contempsit. [Averroes despised the eccentriciticites of astronomy]. Phil. Melanchthon in Elem. Phil. P 781. 691 The Median Emperor dreamt his daughter, &c.] Astyages, King of Media, had this dream of his daughter Madane, and the interpretation of the Magi, wherefore he married her to a Persian of mean quality, by whom she had Cyrus, who conquered all Asia, and translated the empire from the Medes to the Persians. -- Herodot. L. i. 697 When Caesar, &c.] Fiunt aliquando prodigiosi, & longiores Solus Defectus, quales occisa Caesare Dictatore, & Antoniano Bello, totius Anni Pallore continuo. [Other miracles occurred, and the sun was dimmed for a longer time, for example, at the death of the Dictator Caesar, and the Antonine war, its dimness continued for a whole year] -- Phil. 701 Augustus having &c.] Divus Augustus laevum sibi prodidit calceum praepostere idutum, qua die seditione Militum prope afflictus est. [The Divine Augustus put on his left boot before the right one, that same day he was afflicted by a mutiny of the soldiers] -- Idem L. 2. 709 The Roman Senate, &c.] Romani L. Crasso & Mario Coss. Bubone viso orbem lustrabant. [The Romans L Crasso and Mario Coss. ritually purified the country from (the evil influence caused by) seeing the owl.] 737 For

Anaxagoras, &c.] Anaxagoras affirmabat Solem candens Ferrum esse, & Peloponneso majorem: Lunam Habitacula in se habere, & Colles, & Valles. Fertur dixisse Coelum omne ex Lapidibus esse compositum; Damnatus & in exilium pulsus est, quod impie Solem candentem luminam esse dixisset. [Anaxogaras stated that the sun was made of white-hot iron, and bigger than the Peloponnese: the moon had buildings, and hills, and valleys. He was so carried away that he said that the whole sky was made of stone. He was condemned and driven into exile, for speaking impiously about the pure white light of the sun] -- Diog. Laert. in Anaxag. p. 11, 13. 865 Th' Egyptians say &c.] Egyptii decem millia Annorum & amplius recensent; & observatum est in hoc tanto Spatio, bis mutata esse Loca Ortuum & Occasuum Solis, ita ut Sol bis ortus sit ubi nunc occidit, & bis descenderit ubi nunc oritur. [The Egyptians have records for ten thousand years and more, and it has been observed that during this space of time, the rising and setting places of the sun have changed twice, so that twice the sun has risen where it now sets, and twice set where it now rises] -- Phil. Melanct. Lib. 1 Pag. 60. 871 Some hold the heavens, &c.] Causa quare Coelum non cadit (secundem Empedoclem) est velocitas sui motus. [ The reason the sky does not fall is (according to Empedocles) the speed it is moving at] -- Comment. in L. 2. Aristot. de Coelo. 877 Plato believ'd, &c.] Plato Solem & Lunam caeteris Planetis inferiores esse putavit. [Plato believed that the Sun and Moon were lower than the other planets]-- G. Gunnin in Cosmog. L. 1. p. 11. 881 The learned Scaliger, &c.] Copernicus in Libris Revolutionem, deinde Reinholdus, post etiam Stadius Mathematici nobiles perspicuis Demonstrationibus docuerunt, solis Apsida Terris esse propiorem, quam Ptolemaei aetate duodecem partibus, i. e. uno & triginta terrae semidiameteris. [Copernicus in his Book of Revolutions, and afterwards Reinholdus, very cleverly showed by mathematical means that the perihelion of the earth was (become) nearer in the twelve centuries since Ptolemy, that is, thirty-one times the radius of the earth.] -- Jo. Bod. Met. Hist. p. 455. 895 Cardan believ'd, &c.] Putat Cardanus, ab extrema Cauda Halices seu Majoris Ursae omne magnum Imperium pendere.[Cardanus believed that the fate of every great empire depended on the end of the tail of the Thumb or Great Bear] -- Idem p. 325. 913 Than th' old Chaldean, &c.] Chaldaei jactant se quadringinta septuaginta Annorum millia in periclitandis, experiundisque Puerorum Animis possuisse.[The Chaldeans alleged that they were forty or seventy thousand years in experiments to possess the souls of boys] -- Cicero 975 Like Money, &c.] Druidae pecuniam mutuo accipiebant in posteriore vita reddituri. [The Druids accepted money from one another to be repaid in the next life] -- Patricius. Tom.2 p.9. 1001 That paltry story, &c.] There was a notorious ideot (that is here described by the name and character of Whachum) who counterfeited a second part of Hudibras, as untowardly as Captain Po, who could not write himself, and yet made a shift to stand on the pillory for forging other men's hands, as his fellow Whachum no doubt deserved; in whose abominable doggerel this story of Hudibras and a French mountebank at Brentford fair is as properly described. 1024 That the vibration &c.] The device of the vibration of a Pendulum was intended to settle a certain measure of ells and yards, &c. (that should have its foundation in nature) all the world over: For by swinging a weight at the end of a string, and calculating by the motion of the sun, or any star, how long the vibration would last, in proportion to the length of the string, and the weight of the pendulum, they thought to reduce it back again, and from any part of time to compute the exact length of any string that must necessarily vibrate into so much space of time; so that if a man should ask in China for a quarter of an hour of satin, or taffeta, they would know perfectly what it meant; and all mankind learn a new way to measure things, no more by the yard, foot or inch, but by the hour, quarter, and minute. 1113 Before the Secular, &c.] As the Devil is the Spiritual Prince of Darkness, so is the Constable the Secular, who governs the night with as great authority as his colleague, but far more imperiously. AN HEROICAL EPISTLE OF HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL ------------------------- Ecce Iterum Crispinus.--- ------------------------- WELL! SIDROPHEL, though 'tis in vain To tamper with your crazy brain, Without trepanning of your skull As often as the moon's at full 'Tis not amiss, e're y' are giv'n o'er, 5 To try one desp'rate med'cine more For where your case can be no worse, The desp'rat'st is the wisest course. Is't possible that you, whose ears Are of the tribe of Issachar's, 10 And might (with equal reason) either, For merit, or extent of leather, With WILLIAM PRYN'S, before they were Retrench'd and crucify'd, compare, Shou'd yet be deaf against a noise 15 So roaring as the publick voice That speaks your virtues free, and loud, And openly, in ev'ry crowd, As, loud as one that sings his part T' a wheel-barrow or turnip-cart, 20 Or your new nick-nam'd old invention To cry green-hastings with an engine; (As if the vehemence had stunn'd, And turn your drum-heads with the sound;) And 'cause your folly's now no news, 25 But overgrown, and out of use, Persuade yourself there's no such matter, But that 'tis vanish'd out of nature; When folly, as it grows in years, The more extravagant appears; 30 For who but you could be possest With so much ignorance, and beast, That neither all mens' scorn and hate, Nor being laugh'd and pointed at, Nor bray'd so often in a mortar, 35 Can teach you wholesome sense and nurture; But (like a reprobate) what course Soever's us'd, grow worse and worse Can no transfusion of the blood, That makes fools cattle, do you good? 40 Nor putting pigs t' a bitch to nurse, To turn 'em into mungrel-curs, Put you into a way, at least, To make yourself a better beast? Can all your critical intrigues 45 Of trying sound from rotten eggs; Your several new-found remedies Of curing wounds and scabs in trees; Your arts of flexing them for claps, And purging their infected saps; 50 Recov'ring shankers, crystallines, And nodes and botches in their rinds, Have no effect to operate Upon that duller block, your pate? But still it must be lewdly bent 55 To tempt your own due punishment; And, like your whymsy'd chariots, draw, The boys to course you without law; As if the art you have so long Profess'd, of making old dogs young, 60 In you had virtue to renew Not only youth, but childhood too. Can you that understand all books, By judging only with your looks, Resolve all problems with your face, 65 As others do with B's and A's; Unriddle all that mankind knows With solid bending of your brows; All arts and sciences advance, With screwing of your countenance, 70 And, with a penetrating eye, Into th' abstrusest learning pry? Know more of any trade b' a hint; Than those that have been bred up in't; And yet have no art, true or false, 75 To help your own bad naturals; But still, the more you strive t' appear, Are found to be the wretcheder For fools are known by looking wise, As men find woodcocks by their eyes. 80 Hence 'tis that 'cause y' have gain'd o' th' college A quarter share (at most) of knowledge, And brought in none, but spent repute, Y' assume a pow'r as absolute To judge, and censure, and controll, 85 As if you were the sole Sir Poll; And saucily pretend to know More than your dividend comes to. You'll find the thing will not be done With ignorance and face alone 90 No, though y' have purchas'd to your name, In history, so great a fame; That now your talents, so well For having all belief out-grown, That ev'ry strange prodigious tale 95 Is measur'd by your German scale; By which the virtuosi try The magnitude of ev'ry lye, Cast up to what it does amount, And place the bigg'st to your account? 100 That all those stories that are laid Too truly to you, and those made, Are now still charg'd upon your score, And lesser authors nam'd no more. Alas! that faculty betrays 105 Those soonest it designs to raise; And all your vain renown will spoil, As guns o'ercharg'd the more recoil. Though he that has but impudence, To all things has a fair pretence; 110 And put among his wants but shame, To all the world may lay his claim: Though you have try'd that nothing's borne With greater ease than public scorn, That all affronts do still give place 115 To your impenetrable face, That makes your way through all affairs, As pigs through hedges creep with theirs; Yet as 'tis counterfeit, and brass, You must not think 'twill always pass; 120 For all impostors, when they're known, Are past their labour, and undone. And all the best that can befal An artificial natural, Is that which madmen find as soon 125 As once they're broke loose from the moon, And, proof against her influence, Relapse to e'er so little sense, To turn stark fools, and subjects fit For sport of boys, and rabble-wit. 130 PART III. CANTO I. THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The Knight and Squire resolve, at once, The one the other to renounce. They both approach the Lady's Bower; The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her. She treats them with a Masquerade, By Furies and Hobgoblins made; From which the Squire conveys the Knight, And steals him from himself, by Night. ------------------------------------------------- 'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r T' enforce a desperate amour, As he that has two strings t' his bow, And burns for love and money too; For then he's brave and resolute, 5 Disdains to render in his suit, Has all his flames and raptures double, And hangs or drowns with half the trouble, While those who sillily pursue, The simple, downright way, and true, 10 Make as unlucky applications, And steer against the stream their passions. Some forge their mistresses of stars, And when the ladies prove averse, And more untoward to be won 15 Than by CALIGULA the Moon, Cry out upon the stars, for doing Ill offices to cross their wooing; When only by themselves they're hindred, For trusting those they made her kindred; 20 And still, the harsher and hide-bounder The damsels prove, become the fonder. For what mad lover ever dy'd To gain a soft and gentle bride? Or for a lady tender-hearted, 25 In purling streams or hemp departed? Leap'd headlong int' Elysium, Through th' windows of a dazzling room? But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame, The am'rous fly burnt in his flame. 30 This to the Knight could be no news, With all mankind so much in use; Who therefore took the wiser course, To make the most of his amours, Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways, 35 As follows in due time and place No sooner was the bloody fight, Between the Wizard, and the Knight, With all th' appurtenances, over, But he relaps'd again t' a lover; 40 As he was always wont to do, When h' had discomfited a foe And us'd the only antique philters, Deriv'd from old heroic tilters. But now triumphant, and victorious, 45 He held th' atchievement was too glorious For such a conqueror to meddle With petty constable or beadle, Or fly for refuge to the Hostess Of th' Inns of Court and Chancery, Justice, Who might, perhaps reduce his cause 50 To th' ordeal trial of the laws, Where none escape, but such as branded With red-hot irons have past bare-handed; And, if they cannot read one verse I' th' Psalms, must sing it, and that's worse. 55 He therefore judging it below him, To tempt a shame the Devil might owe him, Resolv'd to leave the Squire for bail And mainprize for him to the gaol, To answer, with his vessel, all, 60 That might disastrously befall; And thought it now the fittest juncture To give the Lady a rencounter, T' acquaint her 'with his expedition, 65 And conquest o'er the fierce Magician; Describe the manner of the fray, And show the spoils he brought away, His bloody scourging aggravate, The number of his blows, and weight, 70 All which might probably succeed, And gain belief h' had done the deed, Which he resolv'd t' enforce, and spare No pawning of his soul to swear, But, rather than produce his back, 75 To set his conscience on the rack, And in pursuance of his urging Of articles perform'd and scourging, And all things else, his part, Demand deliv'ry of her heart, 80 Her goods, and chattels, and good graces, And person up to his embraces. Thought he, the ancient errant knights Won all their ladies hearts in fights; And cut whole giants into fritters, 85 To put them into amorous twitters Whose stubborn bowels scorn'd to yield Until their gallants were half kill'd But when their bones were drub'd so sore They durst not woo one combat more, 90 The ladies hearts began to melt, Subdu'd by blows their lovers felt. So Spanish heroes, with their lances, At once wound bulls and ladies' fancies; And he acquires the noblest spouse 95 That widows greatest herds of cows: Then what may I expect to do, Wh' have quell'd so vast a buffalo? Mean while, the Squire was on his way The Knight's late orders to obey; 100 Who sent him for a strong detachment Of beadles, constables, and watchmen, T' attack the cunning-man fur plunder, Committed falsely on his lumber; When he, who had so lately sack'd 105 The enemy, had done the fact; Had rifled all his pokes and fobs Of gimcracks, whims, and jiggumbobs, When he, by hook or crook, had gather'd, And for his own inventions father'd 110 And when they should, at gaol delivery, Unriddle one another's thievery, Both might have evidence enough, To render neither halter proof. He thought it desperate to tarry, 115 And venture to be accessary But rather wisely slip his fetters, And leave them for the Knight, his betters. He call'd to mind th' unjust, foul play He wou'd have offer'd him that day, 120 To make him curry his own hide, Which no beast ever did beside, Without all possible evasion, But of the riding dispensation; And therefore much about the hour 125 The Knight (for reasons told before) Resolv'd to leave them to the fury Of Justice, and an unpack'd Jury, The Squire concurr'd t' abandon him, And serve him in the self-same trim; 130 T' acquaint the Lady what h' had done, And what he meant to carry on; What project 'twas he went about, When SIDROPHEL and he fell out; His firm and stedfast Resolution, 135 To swear her to an execution; To pawn his inward ears to marry her, And bribe the Devil himself to carry her; In which both dealt, as if they meant Their Party-Saints to represent, 140 Who never fail'd upon their sharing In any prosperous arms-bearing To lay themselves out to supplant Each other Cousin-German Saint. But, ere the Knight could do his part, 145 The Squire had got so much the start, H' had to the Lady done his errand, And told her all his tricks afore-hand. Just as he finish'd his report, The Knight alighted in the court; 150 And having ty'd his beast t' a pale, And taking time for both to stale, He put his band and beard in order, The sprucer to accost and board her; And now began t' approach the door, 155 When she, wh' had spy'd him out before Convey'd th' informer out of sight, And went to entertain the Knight With whom encount'ring, after longees Of humble and submissive congees, 160 And all due ceremonies paid, He strok'd his beard, and thus he said: Madam, I do, as is my duty, Honour the shadow of your shoe-tye; And now am come to bring your ear 165 A present you'll be glad to hear: At least I hope so: the thing's done, Or may I never see the sun; For which I humbly now demand Performance at your gentle hand 170 And that you'd please to do your part, As I have done mine, to my smart. With that he shrugg'd his sturdy back As if he felt his shoulders ake. But she, who well enough knew what 175 (Before he spoke) he would be at, Pretended not to apprehend The mystery of what he mean'd;. And therefore wish'd him to expound His dark expressions, less profound. 180 Madam, quoth he, I come to prove How much I've suffer'd for your love, Which (like your votary) to win, I have not spar'd my tatter'd skin And for those meritorious lashes, 185 To claim your favour and good graces. Quoth she, I do remember once I freed you from th' inchanted sconce; And that you promis'd, for that favour, To bind your back to good behaviour, 190 And, for my sake and service, vow'd To lay upon't a heavy load, And what 'twould bear t' a scruple prove, As other Knights do oft make love Which, whether you have done or no, 195 Concerns yourself, not me, to know. But if you have, I shall confess, Y' are honester than I could guess. Quoth he, if you suspect my troth, I cannot prove it but by oath; 200 And if you make a question on't, I'll pawn my soul that I have done't; And he that makes his soul his surety, I think, does give the best security. Quoth she, Some say, the soul's secure 205 Against distress and forfeiture Is free from action, and exempt From execution and contempt; And to be summon'd to appear In th' other world's illegal here; 210 And therefore few make any account Int' what incumbrances they run't For most men carry things so even Between this World, and Hell, and Heaven, Without the least offence to either, 215 They freely deal in all together; And equally abhor to quit This world for both or both for it; And when they pawn and damn their souls, They are but pris'ners on paroles. 220 For that (quoth he) 'tis rational, Th' may be accountable in all: For when there is that intercourse Between divine and human pow'rs, That all that we determine here 225 Commands obedience every where, When penalties may be commuted For fines or ears, and executed It follows, nothing binds so fast As souls in pawn and mortgage past 230 For oaths are th' only tests and seals Of right and wrong, and true and false, And there's no other way to try The doubts of law and justice by. (Quoth she) What is it you would swear 235 There's no believing till I hear For, till they're understood all tales (Like nonsense) are not true nor false. (Quoth he) When I resolv'd t' obey What you commanded th' other day, 240 And to perform my exercise, (As schools are wont) for your fair eyes, T' avoid all scruples in the case, I went to do't upon the place. But as the Castle is inchanted 245 By SIDROPHEL the Witch and haunted By evil spirits, as you know, Who took my Squire and me for two, Before I'd hardly time to lay My weapons by, and disarray 250 I heard a formidable noise, Loud as the Stentrophonick voice, That roar'd far off, Dispatch and strip, I'm ready with th' infernal whip, That shall divest thy ribs from skin, 255 To expiate thy ling'ring sin. Th' hast broken perfidiously thy oath, And not perform'd thy plighted troth; But spar'd thy renegado back, Where th' hadst so great a prize at stake; 260 Which now the fates have order'd me For penance and revenge to flea, Unless thou presently make haste: Time is, time was: And there it ceas'd. With which, though startled, I confess, 265 Yet th' horror of the thing was less Than th' other dismal apprehension Of interruption or prevention; And therefore, snatching up the rod, I laid upon my back a load; 270 Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood, To make my word and honour good; Till tir'd, and making truce at length, For new recruits of breath and strength, I felt the blows still ply'd as fast 275 As th' had been by lovers plac'd, In raptures of platonick lashing, And chaste contemplative bardashing; When facing hastily about, To stand upon my guard and scout, 280 I found th' infernal Cunning-man, And th' under-witch, his CALIBAN, With scourges (like the Furies) arm'd, That on my outward quarters storm'd. In haste I snatch'd my weapon up, 285 And gave their hellish rage a stop; Call'd thrice upon your name, and fell Courageously on SIDROPHEL; Who, now transform'd himself a bear, Began to roar aloud, and tear; 290 When I as furiously press'd on, My weapon down his throat to run; Laid hold on him; but he broke loose, And turn'd himself into a goose; Div'd under water, in a pond, 295 To hide himself from being found. In vain I sought him; but, as soon As I perceiv'd him fled and gone, Prepar'd with equal haste and rage, His Under-sorcerer t' engage. 300 But bravely scorning to defile My sword with feeble blood and vile, I judg'd it better from a quick- Set hedge to cut a knotted stick, With which I furiously laid on 305 Till, in a harsh and doleful tone, It roar'd, O hold for pity, Sir I am too great a sufferer, Abus'd, as you have been, b' a witch, But conjur'd into a worse caprich; 310 Who sends me out on many a jaunt, Old houses in the night to haunt, For opportunities t' improve Designs of thievery or love; With drugs convey'd in drink or meat, 315 All teats of witches counterfeit; Kill pigs and geese with powder'd glass, And make it for enchantment pass; With cow-itch meazle like a leper, And choak with fumes of guiney pepper; 320 Make leachers and their punks with dewtry, Commit fantastical advowtry; Bewitch Hermetick-men to run Stark staring mad with manicon; Believe mechanick Virtuosi 325 Can raise 'em mountains in POTOSI; And, sillier than the antick fools, Take treasure for a heap of coals: Seek out for plants with signatures, To quack of universal cures: 330 With figures ground on panes of glass Make people on their heads to pass; And mighty heaps of coin increase, Reflected from a single piece, To draw in fools, whose nat'ral itches 335 Incline perpetually to witches; And keep me in continual fears, And danger of my neck and ears; When less delinquents have been scourg'd, And hemp on wooden anvil forg'd, 340 Which others for cravats have worn About their necks, and took a turn. I pity'd the sad punishment The wretched caitiff underwent, And left my drubbing of his bones, 345 Too great an honour for pultrones; For Knights are bound to feel no blows From paultry and unequal foes, Who, when they slash, and cut to pieces, Do all with civilest addresses: 350 Their horses never give a blow, But when they make a leg, and bow. I therefore spar'd his flesh, and prest him About the witch with many a. question. Quoth he, For many years he drove 355 A kind of broking-trade in love; Employ'd in all th' intrigues, and trust Of feeble, speculative lust: Procurer to th' extravagancy, And crazy ribaldry of fancy, 360 By those the Devil had forsook, As things below him to provoke. But b'ing a virtuoso, able To smatter, quack, and cant, and dabble, He held his talent most adroit 365 For any mystical exploit; As others of his tribe had done, And rais'd their prices three to one: For one predicting pimp has th' odds Of chauldrons of plain downright bawds. 370 But as an elf (the Devil's valet) Is not so slight a thing to get; For those that do his bus'ness best, In hell are us'd the ruggedest; Before so meriting a person 375 Cou'd get a grant, but in reversion, He serv'd two prenticeships, and longer, I' th' myst'ry of a lady-monger. For (as some write) a witch's ghost, As soon as from the body loos'd, 380 Becomes a puney-imp itself And is another witch's elf. He, after searching far and near, At length found one in LANCASHIRE With whom he bargain'd before-hand, 385 And, after hanging, entertained; Since which h' has play'd a thousand feats, And practis'd all mechanick cheats, Transform'd himself to th' ugly shapes Of wolves and bears, baboons and apes, 390 Which he has vary'd more than witches, Or Pharaoh's wizards cou'd their switches; And all with whom h' has had to do, Turn'd to as monstrous figures too. Witness myself, whom h' has abus'd, 395 And to this beastly shape reduc'd, By feeding me on beans and pease, He crams in nasty crevices, And turns to comfits by his arts, To make me relish for disserts, 400 And one by one, with shame and fear, Lick up the candy'd provender. Beside -- But as h' was running on, To tell what other feats h' had done, The Lady stopt his full career, 405 And told him now 'twas time to hear If half those things (said she) be true -- They're all, (quoth he,) I swear by you. Why then (said she,) That SIDROPHEL Has damn'd himself to th' pit of Hell; 410 Who, mounted on a broom, the nag And hackney of a Lapland hag, In quest of you came hither post, Within an hour (I'm sure) at most; Who told me all you swear and say, 415 Quite contrary another way; Vow'd that you came to him to know If you should carry me or no; And would have hir'd him, and his imps, To be your match-makers and pimps, 420 T' engage the Devil on. your side, And steal (like PROSERPINE) your bride. But he, disdaining to embrace. So filthy a design and base, You fell to vapouring and huffing 425 And drew upon him like a ruffin; Surpriz'd him meanly, unprepar'd, Before h' had time to mount his guard; And left him dead upon the ground, With many a bruise and desperate wound: 430 Swore you had broke and robb'd his house, And stole his talismanique louse, And all his new-found old inventions;. With flat felonious intentions; Which he could bring out where he had, 435 And what he bought them for, and paid. His flea, his morpion, and punese, H' had gotten for his proper ease, And all perfect minutes made, By th' ablest artist of the trade; 440 Which (he could prove it) since he lost, He has been eaten up almost; And all together might amount To many hundreds on account; For which h' had got sufficient warrant 445 To seize the malefactors errant, Without capacity of bail, But of a cart's or horse's tail; And did not doubt to bring the wretches To serve for pendulums to watches; 450 Which, modern virtuosos say, Incline to hanging every way. Beside, he swore, and swore 'twas true, That, e're he went in quest of you, He set a figure to discover 455 If you were fled to RYE or DOVER; And found it clear, that, to betray Yourselves and me, you fled this way; And that he was upon pursuit, To take you somewhere hereabout. 460 He vow' d he had intelligence Of all that past before and since; And found that, e'er you came to him,. Y' had been engaging life and limb About a case of tender conscience, 465 Where both abounded in your own sense: Till RALPHO, by his light and grace, Had clear'd all scruples in the case; And prov'd that you might swear and own Whatever's by the wicked done, 470 For which, most basely to requite The service of his gifts and light, You strove to oblige him, by main force, To scourge his ribs instead of yours; But that he stood upon his guard, 475 And all your vapouring out-dar'd; For which, between you both, the feat Has never been perform'd as yet. While thus the Lady talk'd, the Knight Turn'd th' outside of his eyes to white; 480 (As men of inward light are wont To turn their opticks in upon 't) He wonder'd how she came to know What he had done, and meant to do; Held up his affidavit-hand, 485 As if h' had been to be arraign'd; Cast t'wards the door a look, In dread of SIDROPHEL, and spoke: Madam, if but one word be true Of all the Wizard has told you, 490 Or but one single circumstance In all th' apocryphal romance, May dreadful earthquakes swallow down This vessel, that is all your own; Or may the heavens fall, and cover 495 These reliques of your constant lover. You have provided well, quoth she, (I thank you) for yourself and me, And shown your presbyterian wits Jump punctual with the Jesuits; 500 A most compendious way, and civil, At once to cheat the world, the Devil, And Heaven and Hell, yourselves, and those On whom you vainly think t' impose. Why then (quoth he) may Hell surprize -- 505 That trick (said she) will not pass twice: I've learn'd how far I'm to believe Your pinning oaths upon your sleeve. But there's a better way of clearing What you would prove than downright swearing: 510 For if you have perform'd the feat, The blows are visible as yet, Enough to serve for satisfaction Of nicest scruples in the action: And if you can produce those knobs, 515 Although they're but the witch's drubs, I'll pass them all upon account, As if your natural self had done't Provided that they pass th' opinion Of able juries of old women 520 Who, us'd to judge all matter of facts For bellies, may do so for backs, Madam, (quoth he,) your love's a million; To do is less than to be willing, As I am, were it in my power, 525 T' obey, what you command, and more: But for performing what you bid, I thank you as much as if I did. You know I ought to have a care To keep my wounds from taking air: 530 For wounds in those that are all heart, Are dangerous in any part. I find (quoth she) my goods and chattels Are like to prove but mere drawn battels; For still the longer we contend, 535 We are but farther off the end. But granting now we should agree, What is it you expect from me? Your plighted faith (quoth he) and word You past in heaven on record, 540 Where all contracts, to have and t' hold, Are everlastingly enroll'd: And if 'tis counted treason here To raze records, 'tis much more there. Quoth she, There are no bargains driv'n, 545 Or marriages clapp'd up, in Heav'n, And that's the reason, as some guess, There is no heav'n in marriages; Two things that naturally press Too narrowly to be at ease. 550 Their bus'ness there is only love, Which marriage is not like t' improve: Love, that's too generous to abide To be against its nature ty'd; Or where 'tis of itself inclin'd, 555 It breaks loose when it is confin'd; And like the soul, it's harbourer. Debarr'd the freedom of the air, Disdains against its will to stay, But struggles out, and flies away; 560 And therefore never can comply To endure the matrimonial tie, That binds the female and the male, Where th' one is but the other's bail; Like Roman gaolers, when they slept, 565 Chain'd to the prisoners they kept Of which the true and faithfull'st lover Gives best security to suffer. Marriage is but a beast, some say, That carries double in foul way; 570 And therefore 'tis not to b' admir'd, It should so suddenly be tir'd; A bargain at a venture made, Between two partners in a trade; (For what's inferr'd by t' have and t' hold, 575 But something past away, and sold?) That as it makes but one of two, Reduces all things else as low; And, at the best, is but a mart Between the one and th' other part, 580 That on the marriage-day is paid, Or hour of death, the bet is laid; And all the rest of better or worse, Both are but losers out of purse. For when upon their ungot heirs 585 Th' entail themselves, and all that's theirs, What blinder bargain e'er was driv'n, Or wager laid at six and seven? To pass themselves away, and turn Their childrens' tenants e're they're born? 590 Beg one another idiot To guardians, e'er they are begot; Or ever shall, perhaps, by th' one, Who's bound to vouch 'em for his own, Though got b' implicit generation, 595 And gen'ral club of all the nation; For which she's fortify'd no less Than all the island, with four seas; Exacts the tribute of her dower, in ready insolence and power; 600 And makes him pass away to have And hold, to her, himself, her slave, More wretched than an ancient villain, Condemn'd to drudgery and tilling; While all he does upon the by, 605 She is not bound to justify, Nor at her proper cost and charge Maintain the feats he does at large. Such hideous sots were those obedient Old vassals to their ladies regent; 610 To give the cheats the eldest hand In foul play by the laws o' th' land; For which so many a legal cuckold Has been run down in courts and truckeld: A law that most unjustly yokes 615 All Johns of Stiles to Joans of Nokes, Without distinction of degree, Condition, age, or quality: Admits no power of revocation, Nor valuable consideration, 620 Nor writ of error, nor reverse Of Judgment past, for better or worse: Will not allow the priviledges That beggars challenge under hedges, Who, when they're griev'd, can make dead horses 625 Their spiritual judges of divorces; While nothing else but Rem in Re Can set the proudest wretches free; A slavery beyond enduring, But that 'tis of their own procuring. 630 As spiders never seek the fly, But leave him, of himself, t' apply So men are by themselves employ'd, To quit the freedom they enjoy'd, And run their necks into a noose, 635 They'd break 'em after, to break loose; As some whom Death would not depart, Have done the feat themselves by art; Like Indian widows, gone to bed In flaming curtains to the dead; 640 And men as often dangled for't, And yet will never leave the sport. Nor do the ladies want excuse For all the stratagems they use To gain the advantage of the set, 645 And lurch the amorous rook and cheat For as the Pythagorean soul Runs through all beasts, and fish and fowl, And has a smack of ev'ry one, So love does, and has ever done; 650 And therefore, though 'tis ne'er so fond, Takes strangely to the vagabond. 'Tis but an ague that's reverst, Whose hot fit takes the patient first, That after burns with cold as much 655 As ir'n in GREENLAND does the touch; Melts in the furnace of desire Like glass, that's but the ice of fire; And when his heat of fancy's over, Becomes as hard and frail a lover. 660 For when he's with love-powder laden, And prim'd and cock'd by Miss or Madam, The smallest sparkle of an eye Gives fire to his artillery; And off the loud oaths go; but while 665 They're in the very act, recoil. Hence 'tis so few dare take their chance Without a sep'rate maintenance; And widows, who have try'd one lover, Trust none again, 'till th' have made over; 670 Or if they do, before they marry, The foxes weigh the geese they carry; And e're they venture o'er a stream, Know how to size themselves and them; Whence wittiest ladies always choose 675 To undertake the heaviest goose For now the world is grown so wary, That few of either sex dare marry, But rather trust on tick t' amours, The cross and pile for better or worse; 680 A mode that is held honourable, As well as French, and fashionable: For when it falls out for the best, Where both are incommoded least, In soul and body two unite, 685 To make up one hermaphrodite, Still amorous, and fond, and billing, Like PHILIP and MARY on a shilling, Th' have more punctilios and capriches Between the petticoat and breeches, 690 More petulant extravagances, Than poets make 'em in romances. Though when their heroes 'spouse the dames, We hear no more charms and flames: For then their late attracts decline, 695 And turn as eager as prick'd wine; And all their catterwauling tricks, In earnest to as jealous piques; Which the ancients wisely signify'd, By th' yellow mantos of the bride: 700 For jealousy is but a kind Of clap and grincam of the mind, The natural effects of love, As other flames and aches prove; But all the mischief is, the doubt 705 On whose account they first broke out. For though Chineses go to bed, And lie in, in their ladies stead, And for the pains they took before, Are nurs'd and pamper'd to do more 710 Our green men do it worse, when th' hap To fail in labour of a clap Both lay the child to one another: But who's the father, who the mother, 'Tis hard to say in multitudes, 715 Or who imported the French goods. But health and sickness b'ing all one, Which both engag'd before to own, And are not with their bodies bound To worship, only when they're sound, 720 Both give and take their equal shares Of all they suffer by false wares: A fate no lover can divert With all his caution, wit, and art. For 'tis in vain to think to guess 725 At women by appearances, That paint and patch their imperfections Of intellectual complexions, And daub their tempers o'er with washes As artificial as their faces; 730 Wear under vizard-masks their talents And mother-wits before their gallants, Until they're hamper'd in the noose, Too fast to dream of breaking loose; When all the flaws they strove to hide 735 Are made unready with the bride, That with her wedding-clothes undresses Her complaisance and gentilesses, Tries all her arts to take upon her The government from th' easy owner; 740 Until the wretch is glad to wave His lawful right, and turn her slave; Find all his having, and his holding, Reduc'd t' eternal noise and scolding; The conjugal petard, that tears 745 Down all portcullises of ears, And make the volley of one tongue For all their leathern shields too strong When only arm'd with noise and nails, The female silk-worms ride the males, 750 Transform 'em into rams and goats, Like Sirens, with their charming notes; Sweet as a screech-owl's serenade, Or those enchanting murmurs made By th' husband

mandrake and the wife, 755 Both bury'd (like themselves) alive. Quoth he, These reasons are but strains Of wanton, over-heated brains Which ralliers, in their wit, or drink, Do rather wheedle with than think 760 Man was not man in paradise, Until he was created twice, And had his better half, his bride, Carv'd from the original, his side, T' amend his natural defects, 765 And perfect his recruited sex; Inlarge his breed at once, and lessen The pains and labour of increasing, By changing them for other cares, As by his dry'd-up paps appears. 770 His body, that stupendous frame, Of all the world the anagram Is of two equal parts compact, In shape and symmetry exact, Of which the left and female side 775 Is to the manly right a bride; Both join'd together with such art, That nothing else but death can part. Those heav'nly attracts of yours, your eyes, And face, that all the world surprize, 780 That dazzle all that look upon ye, And scorch all other ladies tawny, Those ravishing and charming graces Are all made up of two half faces, That in a mathematick line, 785 Like those in other heavens, join, Of which if either grew alone, T' would fright as much to look upon: And so would that sweet bud your lip, Without the other's fellowship. 790 Our noblest senses act by pairs; Two eyes to see; to hear, two ears; Th' intelligencers of the mind, To wait upon the soul design'd, But those that serve the body alone, 795 Are single, and confin'd to one. The world is but two parts, that meet And close at th' equinoctial fit; And so are all the works of nature, Stamp'd with her signature on matter, 800 Which all her creatures, to a leaf, Or smallest blade of grass receive; All which sufficiently declare, How entirely marriage is her care, The only method that she uses 805 In all the wonders she produces: And those that take their rules from her, Can never be deceiv'd, nor err. For what secures the civil life, But pawns of children, and a wife? 810 That lie like hostages at stake, To pay for all men undertake; To whom it is as necessary As to be born and breathe, to marry; So universal all mankind, 815 In nothing else, is of one mind. For in what stupid age, or nation, Was marriage ever out of fashion? Unless among the Amazons, Or cloister'd friars, and vestal nuns; 820 Or Stoicks, who to bar the freaks And loose excesses of the sex, Prepost'rously wou'd have all women Turn'd up to all the world in common. Though men would find such mortal feuds, 825 In sharing of their publick goods, 'Twould put them to more charge of lives, Than they're supply'd with now by wives; Until they graze, and wear their clothes, As beasts do, of their native growths: 830 For simple wearing of their horns Will not suffice to serve their turns. For what can we pretend t' inherit, Unless the marriage-deed will bear it? Could claim no right, to lands or rents, 835 But for our parents' settlements; Had been but younger sons o' th' earth, Debarr'd it all, but for our birth. What honours or estates of peers, Cou'd be preserv'd but by their heirs 840 And what security maintains Their right and title, but the banes? What crowns could be hereditary, If greatest monarchs did not marry. And with their consorts consummate 845 Their weightiest interests of state? For all the amours of princes are But guarantees of peace or war, Or what but marriage has a charm The rage of empires to disarm, 850 Make blood and desolation cease, And fire and sword unite in peace, When all their fierce contest for forage Conclude in articles of marriage? Nor does the genial bed provide 855 Less for the int'rests of the bride; Who else had not the least pretence T' as much as due benevolence; Could no more title take upon her To virtue, quality, and honour. 860 Than ladies-errant, unconfin'd, And feme-coverts t' all mankind All women would be of one piece, The virtuous matron and the miss; The nymphs of chaste Diana's train, 865 The same with those in LEWKNER's Lane; But for the difference marriage makes 'Twixt wives and ladies of the lakes; Besides the joys of place and birth, The sex's paradise on earth; 870 A privilege so sacred held, That none will to their mothers yield; But rather than not go before, Abandon Heaven at the door. And if th' indulgent law allows 875 A greater freedom to the spouse, The reason is, because the wife Runs greater hazards of her life; Is trusted with the form and matter Of all mankind by careful nature; 880 Where man brings nothing but the stuff She frames the wond'rous fabric of; Who therefore, in a streight, may freely Demand the clergy of her belly, And make it save her the same way 885 It seldom misses to betray; Unless both parties wisely enter Into the liturgy indenture, And though some fits of small contest Sometimes fall out among the best, 890 That is no more than ev'ry lover Does from his hackney-lady suffer; That makes no breach of faith and love, But rather (sometimes) serves t' improve. For as in running, ev'ry pace 895 Is but between two legs a race, In which both do their uttermost To get before, and win the post, Yet when they're at their race's ends, They're still as kind and constant friends, 900 And, to relieve their weariness, By turns give one another ease; So all those false alarms of strife Between the husband and the wife, And little quarrels, often prove 905 To be but new recruits of love; When those wh' are always kind or coy, In time must either tire or cloy. Nor are their loudest clamours more, Than as they're relish'd, sweet or sour; 910 Like musick, that proves bad or good; According as 'tis understood. In all amours, a lover burns With frowns as well as smiles by turns; And hearts have been as aft with sullen 915 As charming looks surpriz'd and stolen. Then why should more bewitching clamour Some lovers not as much enamour? For discords make the sweetest airs And curses are a kind of pray'rs; 920 Too slight alloys for all those grand Felicities by marriage gain'd. For nothing else has pow'r to settle Th' interests of love perpetual; An act and deed, that that makes one heart 925 Becomes another's counter-part, And passes fines on faith and love, Inroll'd and register'd above, To seal the slippery knots of vows, Which nothing else but death can loose. 930 And what security's too strong, To guard that gentle heart from wrong, That to its friend is glad to pass Itself away, and all it has; And, like an anchorite, gives over 935 This world for th' heaven of lover? I grant (quoth she) there are some few Who take that course, and find it true But millions whom the same does sentence To heav'n b' another way -- repentance. 940 Love's arrows are but shot at rovers; Though all they hit, they turn to lovers; And all the weighty consequents Depend upon more blind events, Than gamesters, when they play a set 945 With greatest cunning at piquet, Put out with caution, but take in They know not what, unsight, unseen, For what do lovers, when they're fast In one another's arms embrac't, 950 But strive to plunder, and convey Each other, like a prize, away? To change the property of selves, As sucking children are by elves? And if they use their persons so, 955 What will they to their fortunes do? Their fortunes! the perpetual aims Of all their extasies and flames. For when the money's on the book, And, All my worldly goods -- but spoke, 960 (The formal livery and seisin That puts a lover in possession,) To that alone the bridegroom's wedded; The bride a flam, that's superseded. To that their faith is still made good, 965 And all the oaths to us they vow'd: For when we once resign our pow'rs, W' have nothing left we can call ours: Our money's now become the Miss Of all your lives and services; 970 And we forsaken, and postpon'd; But bawds to what before we own'd; Which, as it made y' at first gallant us, So now hires others to supplant us, Until 'tis all turn'd out of doors, 975 (As we had been) for new amours; For what did ever heiress yet By being born to lordships get? When the more lady sh' is of manours, She's but expos'd to more trepanners, 980 Pays for their projects and designs, And for her own destruction fines; And does but tempt them with her riches, To use her as the Dev'l does witches; Who takes it for a special grace 985 To be their cully for a space, That when the time's expir'd, the drazels For ever may become his vassals: So she, bewitch'd by rooks and spirits, Betrays herself, and all sh' inherits; 990 Is bought and sold, like stolen goods, By pimps, and match-makers, and bawds, Until they force her to convey, And steal the thief himself away. These are the everlasting fruits 995 Of all your passionate love-suits, Th' effects of all your amorous fancies To portions and inheritances; Your love-sick rapture for fruition Of dowry, jointure, and tuition; 1000 To which you make address and courtship; Ad with your bodies strive to worship, That th' infants' fortunes may partake Of love too, for the mother's sake. For these you play at purposes, 1005 And love your love's with A's and B's: For these at Beste and L'Ombre woo, And play for love and money too; Strive who shall be the ablest man At right gallanting of a fan; 1010 And who the most genteelly bred At sucking of a vizard-head; How best t' accost us in all quarters; T' our question -- and -- command new Garters And solidly discourse upon 1015 All sorts of dresses, Pro and Con. For there's no mystery nor trade, But in the art of love is made: And when you have more debts to pay Than Michaelmas and Lady-Day, 1020 And no way possible to do't, But love and oaths, and restless suit, To us y' apply to pay the scores Of all your cully'd, past amours; Act o'er your flames and darts again, 1025 And charge us with your wounds and pain; Which others influences long since Have charm'd your noses with and shins; For which the surgeon is unpaid, And like to be, without our aid. 1030 Lord! what an am'rous thing is want! How debts and mortgages inchant! What graces must that lady have That can from executions save! What charms that can reverse extent, 1035 And null decree and exigent! What magical attracts and graces, That can redeem from Scire facias! From bonds and statutes can discharge, And from contempts of courts enlarge! 1040 These are the highest excellencies Of all your true or false pretences: And you would damn yourselves, and swear As much t' an hostess dowager, Grown fat and pursy by retail 1045 Of pots of beer and bottled ale; And find her fitter for your turn; For fat is wondrous apt to burn; Who at your flames would soon take fire, Relent, and melt to your desire, 1050 And like a candle in the socket, Dissolve her graces int' your pocket. By this time 'twas grown dark and late, When they heard a knocking at the gate, Laid on in haste with such a powder, 1055 The blows grew louder still and louder; Which HUDIBRAS, as if th' had been Bestow'd as freely on his skin, Expounding, by his inward light, Or rather more prophetick fright, 1060 To be the Wizard, come to search, And take him napping in the lurch Turn'd pale as ashes or a clout; But why or wherefore is a doubt For men will tremble, and turn paler, 1065 With too much or too little valour. His heart laid on, as if it try'd To force a passage through his side, Impatient (as he vow'd) to wait 'em, But in a fury to fly at 'em; 1070 And therefore beat, and laid about, To find a cranny to creep out. But she, who saw in what a taking The Knight was by his furious quaking, Undaunted cry'd, Courage, Sir Knight; 1075 Know, I'm resolv'd to break no rite Of hospitality t' a stranger; But, to secure you out of danger, Will here myself stand sentinel, To guard this pass 'gainst SIDROPHEL. 1080 Women, you know, do seldom fail To make the stoutest men turn tail; And bravely scorn to turn their backs Upon the desp'ratest attacks. At this the Knight grew resolute 1085 As IRONSIDE and HARDIKNUTE His fortitude began to rally, And out he cry'd aloud to sally. But she besought him to convey His courage rather out o' th' way, 1090 And lodge in ambush on the floor, Or fortify'd behind a door; That if the enemy shou'd enter, He might relieve her in th' adventure. Mean while they knock'd against the door 1095 As fierce as at the gate before, Which made the Renegado Knight Relapse again t' his former fright. He thought it desperate to stay Till th' enemy had forc'd his way, 1100 But rather post himself, to serve The lady, for a fresh reserve His duty was not to dispute, But what sh' had order'd execute; Which he resolv'd in haste t' obey, 1105 And therefore stoutly march'd away; And all h' encounter'd fell upon, Though in the dark, and all alone; Till fear, that braver feats performs Than ever courage dar'd in arms, 1110 Had drawn him up before a pass To stand upon his guard, and face: This he courageously invaded, And having enter'd, barricado'd, Insconc'd himself as formidable 1115 As could be underneath a table, Where he lay down in ambush close, T' expect th' arrival of his foes. Few minutes he had lain perdue, To guard his desp'rate avenue, 1120 Before he heard a dreadful shout, As loud as putting to the rout, With which impatiently alarm'd, He fancy'd th' enemy had storm'd, And, after ent'ring, SIDROPHEL 1125 Was fall'n upon the guards pell-mell He therefore sent out all his senses, To bring him in intelligences, Which vulgars, out of ignorance, Mistake for falling in a trance; 1130 But those that trade in geomancy, Affirm to be the strength of fancy; In which the Lapland Magi deal, And things incredible reveal. Mean while the foe beat up his quarters, 1135 And storm'd the out-works of his fortress: And as another, of the same Degree and party, in arms and fame, That in the same cause had engag'd, At war with equal conduct wag'd, 1140 By vent'ring only but to thrust His head a span beyond his post, B' a gen'ral of the cavaliers Was dragg'd thro' a window by th' ears; So he was serv'd in his redoubt, 1145 And by the other end pull'd out. Soon as they had him at their mercy, They put him to the cudgel fiercely, As if they'd scorn'd to trade or barter, By giving or by taking quarter: 1150 They stoutly on his quarters laid, Until his scouts came in t' his aid. For when a man is past his sense, There's no way to reduce him thence, But twinging him by th' ears or nose, 1155 Or laying on of heavy blows; And if that will not do the deed, To burning with hot irons proceed. No sooner was he come t' himself, But on his neck a sturdy elf 1160 Clapp'd, in a trice, his cloven hoof, And thus attack'd him with reproof; Mortal, thou art betray'd to us B' our friend, thy Evil Genius, Who, for thy horrid perjuries, 1165 Thy breach of faith, and turning lies, The Brethren's privilege (against The wicked) on themselves, the Saints, Has here thy wretched carcase sent For just revenge and punishment; 1170 Which thou hast now no way to lessen, But by an open, free confession; For if we catch thee failing once, 'Twill fall the heavier on thy bones. What made thee venture to betray, 1175 And filch the lady's heart away? To Spirit her to matrimony? -- That which contracts all matches -- money. It was th' inchantment oft her riches That made m' apply t' your croney witches, 1180 That, in return, wou'd pay th' expence, The wear and tear of conscience; Which I cou'd have patch'd up, and turn'd, For the hundredth part of what I earn'd. Didst thou not love her then? Speak true. 1185 No more (quoth he) than I love you. -- How would'st th' have us'd her, and her money? -- First turn'd her up to alimony; And laid her dowry out in law, To null her jointure with a flaw, 1190 Which I before-hand had agreed T' have put, on purpose in the deed; And bar her widow's making over T' a friend in trust, or private lover. What made thee pick and chuse her out, 1195 T' employ their sorceries about? -- That which makes gamesters play with those Who have least wit, and most to lose. But didst thou scourge thy vessel thus, As thou hast damn'd thyself to us? 1200 I see you take me for an ass: 'Tis true, I thought the trick wou'd pass Upon a woman well enough, As 't has been often found by proof, Whose humours are not to be won, 1205 But when they are impos'd upon. For love approves of all they do That stand for candidates, and woo. Why didst thou forge those shameful lies Of bears and witches in disguise? 1210 That is no more than authors give The rabble credit to believe: A trick of following their leaders, To entertain their gentle readers; And we have now no other way 1215 Of passing all we do or say Which, when 'tis natural and true, Will be believ'd b' a very few, Beside the danger of offence, The fatal enemy of sense. 1220 Why did thou chuse that cursed sin, Hypocrisy, to set up in? Because it is in the thriving'st calling, The only Saints-bell that rings all in; In which all churches are concern'd, 1225 And is the easiest to be learn'd: For no degrees, unless th' employ't, Can ever gain much, or enjoy't: A gift that is not only able To domineer among the rabble, 1230 But by the laws impower'd to rout, And awe the greatest that stand out; Which few hold forth against, for fear Their hands should slip, and come too near; For no sin else among the Saints 1235 Is taught so tenderly against. What made thee break thy plighted vows? -- That which makes others break a house, And hang, and scorn ye all, before Endure the plague of being poor. 1240 Quoth he, I see you have more tricks Than all your doating politicks, That are grown old, and out of fashion, Compar'd with your New Reformation; That we must come to school to you, 1245 To learn your more refin'd, and new. Quoth he, If you will give me leave To tell you what I now perceive, You'll find yourself an arrant chouse, If y' were but at a Meeting-House. -- 1250 'Tis true, quoth he, we ne'er come there, Because, w' have let 'em out by th' year. Truly, quoth he, you can't imagine What wond'rous things they will engage in That as your fellow-fiends in Hell 1255 Were angels all before they fell, So are you like to be agen, Compar'd with th' angels of us men. Quoth he, I am resolv'd to be Thy scholar in this mystery; 1260 And therefore first desire to know Some principles on which you go. What makes a knave a child of God, And one of us? -- A livelihood. What renders beating out of brains, 1265 And murder, godliness? -- Great gains. What's tender conscience? -- 'Tis a botch, That will not bear the gentlest touch; But breaking out, dispatches more Than th' epidemical'st plague-sore. 1270 What makes y' encroach upon our trade, And damn all others? -- To be paid. What's orthodox, and true, believing Against a conscience? -- A good living. What makes rebelling against Kings 1275 A Good Old Cause? -- Administrings. What makes all doctrines plain and clear? -- About two hundred pounds a year. And that which was prov'd true before, Prove false again? -- Two hundred more. 1280 What makes the breaking of all oaths A holy duty? -- Food and cloaths. What laws and freedom, persecution? -- B'ing out of pow'r, and contribution. What makes a church a den of thieves? -- 1285 A dean and chapter, and white sleeves. Ad what would serve, if those were gone, To make it orthodox? -- Our own. What makes morality a crime, The most notorious of the time; 1290 Morality, which both the Saints, And wicked too, cry out against? -- Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin And therefore no true Saint allows, 1295 They shall be suffer'd to espouse; For Saints can need no conscience, That with morality dispense; As virtue's impious, when 'tis rooted In nature only, and not imputed 1300 But why the wicked should do so, We neither know, or care to do. What's liberty of conscience, I' th' natural and genuine sense? 'Tis to restore, with more security, 1305 Rebellion to its ancient purity; And christian liberty reduce To th' elder practice of the Jews. For a large conscience is all one, And signifies the same with none. 1310 It is enough (quoth he) for once, And has repriev'd thy forfeit bones: NICK MACHIAVEL had ne'er a trick, (Though he gave his name to our Old Nick,) But was below the least of these, 1315 That pass i' th' world for holiness. This said, the furies and the light In th' instant vanish'd out of sight, And left him in the dark alone, With stinks of brimstone and his own. 1320 The Queen of Night, whose large command Rules all the sea, and half the land, And over moist and crazy brains, In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns, Was now declining to the west, 1325 To go to bed, and take her rest; When HUDIBRAS, whose stubborn blows Deny'd his bones that soft repose, Lay still expecting worse and more, Stretch'd out at length upon the floor; 1330 And though he shut his eyes as fast As if h' had been to sleep his last, Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards Do make the Devil wear for vizards, And pricking up his ears, to hark 1335 If he cou'd hear too in the dark, Was first invaded with a groan And after in a feeble tone, These trembling words: Unhappy wretch! What hast thou gotten by this fetch; 1340 For all thy tricks, in this new trade, Thy holy brotherhood o' th' blade? By sauntring still on some adventure, And growing to thy horse a Centaure? To stuff thy skin with swelling knobs 1345 Of cruel and hard-wooded drubs? For still th' hast had the worst on't yet, As well in conquest as defeat. Night is the sabbath of mankind, To rest the body and the mind, 1350 Which now thou art deny'd to keep, And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep. The Knight, who heard the words, explain'd, As meant to him, this reprimand, Because the character did hit 1355 Point-blank upon his case so fit; Believ'd it was some drolling spright, That staid upon the guard that night, And one of those h' had seen, and felt The drubs he had so freely dealt; 1360 When, after a short pause and groan, The doleful Spirit thus went on: This 'tis t' engage with dogs and bears Pell-mell together by the ears, And, after painful bangs and knocks, 1365 To lie in limbo in the stocks, And from the pinnacle of glory Fall headlong into purgatory. (Thought he, this devil's full of malice, That in my late disasters rallies:) 1370 Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it, By being more heroic-minded: And at a riding handled worse, With treats more slovenly and coarse: Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars, 1375 And hot disputes with conjurers; And when th' hadst bravely won the day, Wast fain to steal thyself away. (I see, thought he, this shameless elf Wou'd fain steal me too from myself, 1380 That impudently dares to own What I have suffer'd for and done,) And now but vent'ring to betray, Hast met with vengeance the same way. Thought he, how does the Devil know 1385 What 'twas that I design'd to do? His office of intelligence, His oracles, are ceas'd long since; And he knows nothing of the Saints, But what some treacherous spy acquaints. 1390 This is some pettifogging fiend, Some under door-keeper's friend's friend, That undertakes to understand, And juggles at the second-hand; And now would pass for Spirit Po, 1395 And all mens' dark concerns foreknow. I think I need not fear him for't; These rallying devils do no hurt. With that he rouz'd his drooping heart, And hastily cry'd out, What art? 1400 A wretch (quoth he) whom want of grace Has brought to this unhappy place. I do believe thee, quoth the Knight; Thus far I'm sure th' art in the right; And know what 'tis that troubles thee, 1405 Better than thou hast guess'd of me. Thou art some paultry, black-guard spright, Condemn'd to drudg'ry in the night Thou hast no work to do in th' house Nor half-penny to drop in shoes; 1410 Without the raising of which sum, You dare not be so troublesome, To pinch the slatterns black and blue, For leaving you their work to do. This is your bus'ness good Pug-Robin; 1415 And your diversion dull dry-bobbing, T' entice fanaticks in the dirt, And wash them clean in ditches for't; Of which conceit you are so proud, At ev'ry jest you laugh aloud, 1420 As now you wou'd have done by me, But that I barr'd your raillery. Sir (quoth the voice) y'are no such Sophi As you would have the world judge of ye. If you design to weigh our talents 1425 I' the standard of your own false balance, Or think it possible to know Us ghosts as well as we do you; We, who have been the everlasting Companions of your drubs and basting, 1430 And never left you in contest, With male or female, man or beast, But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire, In all adventures, as your Squire. Quoth he, That may be said as true 1435 By the idlest pug of all your crew: For none cou'd have betray'd us worse Than those allies of ours and yours. But I have sent him for a token To your Low-Country HOGEN-MOGEN, 1440 To whose infernal shores I hope He'll swing like skippers in a rope. And, if y' have been more just to me (As I am apt to think) than he, I am afraid it is as true, 1445 What th' ill-affected say of you: Y' have spous'd the Covenant and Cause, By holding up your cloven paws. Sir, quoth the voice, 'tis true, I grant, We made and took the Covenant; 1450 But that no more concerns the Cause Than other perj'ries do the laws, Which when they're prov'd in open court, Wear wooden peccadillo's for't: And that's the reason Cov'nanters 1455 Hold up their hands like rogues at bars. I see, quoth HUDIBRAS, from whence These scandals of the Saints commence, That are but natural effects Of Satan's malice, and his sects, 1460 Those Spider-Saints, that hang by threads, Spun out o' th' intrails of their heads. Sir, quoth the voice, that may as true And properly be said of you, Whose talents may compare with either, 1465 Or both the other put together. For all the Independents do, Is only what you forc'd 'em to; You, who are not content alone With tricks to put the Devil down, 1470 But must have armies rais'd to back The gospel-work you undertake; As if artillery, and edge-tools, Were the only engines to save souls; While he, poor devil, has no pow'r 1475 By force to run down and devour; Has ne'er a Classis; cannot sentence To stools or poundage of repentance; Is ty'd up only to design, T' entice, and tempt, and undermine, 1480 In which you all his arts out-do, And prove yourselves his betters too. Hence 'tis possessions do less evil Than mere temptations of the Devil, Which, all the horrid'st actions done, 1485 Are charg'd in courts of law upon; Because unless they help the elf, He can do little of himself; And therefore where he's best possess'd Acts most against his interest; 1490 Surprizes none, but those wh' have priests To turn him out, and exorcists, Supply'd with spiritual provision, And magazines of ammunition With crosses, relicks, crucifixes, 1495 Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes; The tools of working our salvation By mere mechanick operation; With holy water, like a sluice, To overflow all avenues. 1500 But those wh' are utterly unarm'd T' oppose his entrance, if he storm'd, He never offers to surprize, Although his falsest enemies; But is content to be their drudge, 1505 And on their errands glad to trudge For where are all your forfeitures Entrusted in safe hands but ours? Who are but jailors of the holes, 1510 And dungeons where you clap up souls; Like under-keepers, turn the keys, T' your mittimus anathemas; And never boggle to restore The members you deliver o're Upon demand, with fairer justice 1515 Than all your covenanting Trustees; Unless to punish them the worse, You put them in the secular pow'rs, And pass their souls, as some demise The same estate in mortgage twice; 1520 When to a legal Utlegation You turn your excommunication, And for a groat unpaid, that's due, Distrain on soul and body too. Thought he, 'tis no mean part of civil 1525 State prudence to cajole the Devil And not to handle him too rough, When h' has us in his cloven hoof. T' is true, quoth he, that intercourse Has pass'd between your friends and ours; 1530 That as you trust us, in our way, To raise your members, and to lay, We send you others of our own, Denounc'd to hang themselves or drown; Or, frighted with our oratory, 1435 To leap down headlong many a story Have us'd all means to propagate Your mighty interests of state; Laid out our spiritual gifts to further Your great designs of rage and murther. 1540 For if the Saints are nam'd from blood, We only have made that title good; And if it were but in our power, We should not scruple to do more, And not be half a soul behind 1545 Of all dissenters of mankind. Right, quoth the voice, and as I scorn To be ungrateful, in return Of all those kind good offices, I'll free you out of this distress, 1550 And set you down in safety, where It is no time to tell you here. The cock crows, and the morn grows on, When 'tis decreed I must be gone; And if I leave you here till day, 1555 You'll find it hard to get away. With that the Spirit grop'd about, To find th' inchanted hero out, And try'd with haste to lift him up; But found his forlorn hope, his crup, 1560 Unserviceable with kicks and blows, Receiv'd from harden'd-hearted foes. He thought to drag him by the heels, Like Gresham carts, with legs for wheels; But fear, that soonest cures those sores 1565 In danger of relapse to worse, Came in t' assist him with it's aid And up his sinking vessel weigh'd. No sooner was he fit to trudge, But both made ready to dislodge. 1570 The Spirit hors'd him like a sack Upon the vehicle his back; And bore him headlong into th' hall, With some few rubs against the wall Where finding out the postern lock'd, 1575 And th' avenues as strongly block'd, H' attack'd the window, storm'd the glass, And in a moment gain'd the pass; Thro' which he dragg'd the worsted souldier's Fore-quarters out by the head and shoulders; 1580 And cautiously began to scout, To find their fellow-cattle out. Nor was it half a minute's quest, E're he retriev'd the champion's beast, Ty'd to a pale, instead of rack; 1585 But ne'er a saddle on his back, Nor pistols at the saddle-bow, Convey'd away the Lord knows how, He thought it was no time to stay, And let the night too steal away; 1590 But in a trice advanc'd the Knight Upon the bare ridge, bolt upright: And groping out for RALPHO's jade, He found the saddle too was stray'd, And in the place a lump of soap, 1595 On which he speedily leap'd up; And turning to the gate the rein, He kick'd and cudgell'd on amain. While HUDIBRAS, with equal haste, On both sides laid about as fast, 1600 And spurr'd as jockies use to break, Or padders to secure, a neck Where let us leave 'em for a time, And to their Churches turn our rhyme; To hold forth their declining state, 1605 Which now come near an even rate. NOTES TO PART III. CANTO 1. 15 a And more, &c.] Caligula was one of the Emperors of Rome, son of Germanicus and Agrippina. He would needs pass for a god, and had the heads of the ancient statues of the gods taken off; and his own placed on in their stead; and used to stand between the statues of Castor and Pollux to be worshipped; and often bragged of lying with the Moon. 43 b And us'd &c.] Philters were love potions, reported to be much in request in former ages; but our true Knight-Errant Hero made use of no other but what his noble atchievements by his sword produced. 52 c To th' Ordeal, &c.] Ordeal trials were, when supposed criminals, to discover their innocence, went over several red-hot coulter irons. These were generally such whose chastity was suspected, as the vestal virgins, &c. 93 d So Spanish Heroes, &c.] The young Spaniards signalize their valour before the Spanish ladies at bull feasts, which often prove very hazardous, and sometimes fatal to them. It is performed by attacking of a wild bull, kept on purpose, and let loose at the combatant; and he that kills most, carries the laurel, and dwells highest in the ladies' favour. 137 e To pawn, &c.] His exterior ears were gone before, and so out of danger; but by inward ears is here meant his conscience. 252 f Loud as, &c.] Stentrophon: A speaking trumpet, by which the voice may be heard at a great distance, very useful at sea. 276 g As if th' had, &c.] This alludes to some abject letchers, who used to be disciplined with amorous lashes by their mistresses. 323 h Bewitch Hermetick Men, &c.] Hermes Trismegistus, an Egyptian Philosopher, and said to have lived Anno Mundi 2076, in the reign of Ninus, after Moses. He was a wonderful philosopher and proved that there was but one God, the creator of all things; and was the author of several most excellent and useful inventions. But those Hermetick Men here mentioned, though the pretended sectators of this great man, are nothing else but a wild and extravagant sort of enthusiasts, who make a hodge-podge of Religion and Philosophy, and produce nothing but what is the object of every considering person's contempt. 326 i Potosi.] Potosi is a city of Peru, the mountains whereof afford great quantities of the finest silver in all the Indies. 603 k More wretched, &c.] Villainage was an antient tenure, by which the tenants were obliged to perform the most abject and slavish services for their lords. 639 l Like Indian Widows, &c.] The Indian women, richly attired, are carried in a splendid and pompous machine to the funeral pile where the bodies of their deceased husbands are to be consumed, and there voluntarily throw themselves into it, and expire; and such as refuse, their virtue is ever after suspected, and they live in the utmost contempt. 647 m For as the Pythagorean, &c.] It was the opinion of Pythogoras and his followers, that, the soul transmigrated (as they termed it) into all the diverse species of animals; and so was differently disposed and affected, according to their different natures and constitutions. 707 n For tho' Chineses, &c.] The Chinese men of quality, when their wives are brought to bed, are nursed and tended with as much care as women here, and are supplied with the best strengthening and nourishing diet, in order to qualify them for future services. 751 o Transform them into Rams, &c.] The Sirens according to the poets, were three sea-monsters, half women and half fish: their names were Parthenope, Lignea and Leucosia. Their usual residence was about the island of Sicily, where, by the charming melody of their voices, they used to detain those that heard them, and then transform them into some sort of brute animals. 755 p By the Husband Mandrake, &c.] Naturalists report, that if a male and female Mandrake lie near each other, there will often be heard a sort of murmuring noise. 797 q The World is but two Parts, &c.] The equinoctial divides the globe into North and South. 819 r Unless among the Amazons, &c.] The Amazons were women of Scythia, of heroick and great atchievements. They suffered no men to live among them; but once every year used to have conversation with men, of the neighbouring countries, by which if they had a male child, they presently either killed or crippled it; but if a female, they brought it up to the use of arms, and burnt off one breast, leaving the other to suckle girls. 865 s The Nymphs of chaste Diana's &c.] Diana's Nymphs, all of whom vowed perpetual virginity, and were much celebrated for the exact observation of their vow. 866 t Lewkner's Lane.] Some years ago swarmed with notoriously lascivious and profligate strumpets. 877 u The Reason of it is &c.] Demanding the clergy of her belly, which, for the reasons aforesaid, is pleaded in excuse by those who take the liberty to oblige themselves and friends. 1086 w As IRONSIDE or HARDIKNUTE, &c.] Two famous and valiant princes of this country; the one a Saxon, the other a Dane. 1131 x But those that trade in Geomancy, &c.] The Lapland Magi. The Laplanders are an idolatrous people, far North: and it is very credibly reported, by authors and persons that have travelled in their country, that they do perform things incredible by what is vulgarly called Magick. 1158 y To burning with, &c.] An allusion to cauterizing in apoplexies, &c. 1321 z The Queen of Night, &c.] The moon influences the tides, and predominates over all humid bodies; and persons distempered in mind are called Lunaticks. 1344 a And growing to thy Horse, &c.] The Centaurs were a people of Thessaly, and supposed to be the first managers of horses; and the neighbouring inhabitants never having seen any such thing before, fabulously reported them monsters, half men and half horses. 1423 b Sir (quoth the Voice) &c.] Sophi is at present the name of the kings of Persia, not superadded, as Pharaoh was to the kings of Egypt, but the name of the family itself, and religion of Hali; whose descendants by Fatimas, Mahomet's daughter, took the name of Sophi. 1451 c Wear wooden Peccadillos &c.] Peccadillos were stiff pieces that went about the neck; and round about the shoulders, to pin the band, worn by persons nice in dressing; his wooden one is a pillory. 1483 d Hence 'tis Possessions, &c.] Criminals, in their indictments, are charged with not having the fear of God before their eyes, but being led by the instigation of the Devil. 1521 e When to a legal Utlegation, &c.] When they return the excommunication into the Chancery, there is issued out a writ against the person. 1524 f Distrain on Soul, &c.] Excommunication, which deprives men from being Members of the visible church, and formally delivers them up to the Devil. PART III CANTO II. THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The Saints engage in fierce Contests About their Carnal interests; To share their sacrilegious Preys, According to their Rates of Grace; Their various Frenzies to reform, When Cromwel left them in a Storm Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal. ------------------------------------------------- THE learned write, an insect breeze Is but a mungrel prince of bees, That falls before a storm on cows, And stings the founders of his house; From whose corrupted flesh that breed 5 Of vermin did at first proceed. So e're the storm of war broke out, Religion spawn'd a various rout Of petulant Capricious sects, The maggots of corrupted texts, 10 That first run all religion down, And after ev'ry swarm its own. For as the Persian Magi once Upon their mothers got their sons, That were incapable t' enjoy 15 That empire any other way; So PRESBYTER begot the other Upon the good old Cause, his mother, Then bore then like the Devil's dam, Whose son and husband are the same. 20 And yet no nat'ral tie of blood Nor int'rest for the common good Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd, Get quarter for each other's beard. For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd, 25 But only by the ears engag'd: Like dogs that snarl about a bone, And play together when they've none, As by their truest characters, Their constant actions, plainly appears. 30 Rebellion now began, for lack Of zeal and plunders to grow slack; The Cause and covenant to lessen, And Providence to b' out of season: For now there was no more to purchase 35 O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches, But all divided, shar'd, and gone, That us'd to urge the Brethren on; Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause, To cross the cudgels to the laws, 40 That what by breaking them th' had gain'd. By their support might be maintain'd; Like thieves, that in a hemp-plot lie Secur'd against the hue-and-cry; For PRESBYTER and INDEPENDANT 45 Were now turn'd plaintiff and defendant; Laid out their apostolic functions On carnal orders and injunctions; And all their precious Gifts and Graces On outlawries and scire facias; 50 At Michael's term had many a trial, Worse than the Dragon and St. Michael, Where thousands fell, in shape of fees, Into the bottomless abyss. For when like brethren, and like friends, 55 They came to share their dividends, And ev'ry partner to possess His Church and State Joint-Purchases, In which the ablest Saint, and best, Was nam'd in trust by all the rest, 60 To pay their money; and, instead Of ev'ry Brother, pass the deed; He strait converted all his gifts To pious frauds and holy shifts; And settled all the other shares 65 Upon his outward man and's heirs; Held all they claim'd as forfeit lands, Deliver'd up into his hands, And pass'd upon his conscience, By Pre-intail of Providence; 70 Impeach'd the rest for reprobates, That had no titles to estates, But by their spiritual attaints Degraded from the right of Saints. This b'ing reveal'd, they now begun 75 With law and conscience to fall on, And laid about as hot and brain-sick As th' Utter Barrister of SWANSWICK; Engag'd with moneybags as bold As men with sand bags did of old; 80 That brought the lawyers in more fees Than all unsanctify'd Trustees; Till he who had no more to show I' th' case receiv'd the overthrow; Or both sides having had the worst, 85 They parted as they met at first. Poor PRESBYTER was now reduc'd, Secluded, and cashier'd, and chous'd Turn'd out, and excommunicate From all affairs of Church and State; 90 Reform'd t' a reformado Saint, And glad to turn itinerant, To stroll and teach from town to town, And those he had taught up, teach down. And make those uses serve agen 95 Against the new-enlighten'd men, As fit as when at first they were Reveal'd against the CAVALIER; Damn ANABAPTIST and FANATIC, As pat as Popish and Prelatic; 100 And with as little variation, To serve for any Sect i' th' nation. The Good Old Cause, which some believe To be the Dev'l that tempted EVE With Knowledge, and does still invite 105 The world to mischief with new Light, Had store of money in her purse When he took her for bett'r or worse; But now was grown deform'd and poor, And fit to be turn'd out of door. 110 The INDEPENDENTS (whose first station Was in the rear of reformation, A mungrel kind of church-dragoons, That serv'd for horse and foot at once; And in the saddle of one steed 115 The Saracen and Christian rid; Were free of ev'ry spiritual order, To preach, and fight, and pray, and murder) No sooner got the start to lurch Both disciplines, of War and Church 120 And Providence enough to run The chief commanders of 'em down, But carry'd on the war against The common enemy o' th' Saints, And in a while prevail'd so far, 125 To win of them the game of war, And be at liberty once more T' attack themselves, as th' had before. For now there was no foe in arms, T' unite their factions with alarms, 130 But all reduc'd and overcome, Except their worst, themselves at home, Wh' had compass'd all they pray'd, and swore, And fought, and preach'd, and plunder'd for; Subdu'd the Nation, Church, and State, 135 And all things, but their laws and hate: But when they came to treat and transact, And share the spoil of all th' had ransackt, To botch up what th' had torn and rent, Religion and the Government, 140 They met no sooner, but prepar'd To pull down all the war had spar'd Agreed in nothing, but t' abolish, Subvert, extirpate, and demolish. For knaves and fools b'ing near of kin 145 As Dutch Boors are t' a Sooterkin, Both parties join'd to do their best To damn the publick interest, And herded only in consults, To put by one another's bolts; 150 T' out-cant the Babylonian labourers, At all their dialects of jabberers, And tug at both ends of the saw, To tear down Government and Law. For as two cheats, that play one game, 155 Are both defeated of their aim; So those who play a game of state, And only cavil in debate, Although there's nothing lost or won, The publick bus'ness is undone; 160 Which still the longer 'tis in doing, Becomes the surer way to ruin. This, when the ROYALISTS perceiv'd, (Who to their faith as firmly cleav'd, And own'd the right they had paid down 165 So dearly for, the Church and Crown,) Th' united constanter, and sided The more, the more their foes divided. For though out-number'd, overthrown And by the fate of war run down) 170 Their duty never was defeated, Nor from their oaths and faith retreated; For loyalty is still the same, Whether it win or lose the game; True as the dial to the sun, 175 Although it be not shin'd upon. But when these brethren in evil, Their adversaries, and the Devil, Began once more to shew them play, And hopes, at least, to have a day, 180 They rally'd in parades of woods, And unfrequented solitudes; Conven'd at midnight in out-houses, T' appoint new-rising rendezvouzes, And with a pertinacy unmatch'd, 185 For new recruits of danger watch'd. No sooner was one blow diverted, But up another party started; And, as if nature too, in haste To furnish out supplies as fast, 190 Before her time, had turn'd destruction T' a new and numerous production, No sooner those were overcome, But up rose others in their room, That, like the Christian faith, increast 195 The more, the more they were supprest Whom neither chains, nor transportation, Proscription, sale, or confiscation, Nor all the desperate events Of former try'd experiments 200 Nor wounds cou'd terrify, nor mangling, To leave off loyalty and dangling; Nor death (with all his bones) affright From vent'ring to maintain the right, From staking life and fortune down 205 'Gainst all together, for the Crown; But kept the title of their cause From forfeiture, like claims in laws And prov'd no prosp'rous usurpation Can ever settle in the nation; 210 Until, in spight of force and treason, They put their loyalty in possession; And by their constancy and faith, Destroy 'd the mighty men of Gath. Toss'd in a furious hurricane, 215 Did OLIVER give up his reign; And was believ'd, as well by Saints, As mortal men and miscreants, To founder in the Stygian Ferry; Until he was retriev'd by STERRY, 220 Who, in a faise erroneous dream, Mistook the New Jerusalem Prophanely for the apocryphal False Heaven at the end o' th' Hall; Whither it was decreed by Fate 225 His precious reliques to translate. So ROMULUS

was seen before B' as orthodox a Senator; From whose divine illumination He stole the Pagan revelation. 230 Next him his Son and Heir Apparent Succeeded, though a lame vicegerent; Who first laid by the Parliament, The only crutch on which he leant; And then sunk underneath the State, 235 That rode him above horseman's weight. And now the Saints began their reign, For which th' had yearn'd so long in vain, And felt such bowel-hankerings, To see an empire all of Kings. 240 Deliver'd from the Egyptian awe Of Justice, Government, and Law, And free t' erect what spiritual Cantons Should be reveal'd, or Gospel Hans-Towns, To edify upon the ruins 245 Of JOHN of LEYDEN'S old Out-goings; Who for a weather-cock hung up, Upon the Mother Church's top; Was made a type, by Providence, Of all their revelations since; 250 And now fulfill'd by his successors, Who equally mistook their measures For when they came to shape the model, Not one could fit another's noddle; But found their Light and Gifts more wide 255 From fadging than th' unsanctify'd; While ev'ry individual brother Strove hand to fist against another; And still the maddest, and most crackt, Were found the busiest to transact 260 For though most hands dispatch apace, And make light work, (the proverb says,) Yet many diff'rent intellects Are found t' have contrary effects; And many heads t' obstruct intrigues, 265 As slowest insects have most legs. Some were for setting up a King; But all the rest for no such thing, Unless KING JESUS. Others tamper'd For FLEETWOOD, DESBOROUGH, and LAMBERT; 270 Some for the Rump; and some, more crafty, For Agitators, and the safety; Some for the Gospel, and massacres Of Spiritual Affidavit-makers, That swore to any human regence, 275 Oaths of supremacy and allegiance; Yea, though the ablest swearing Saint That vouch'd the Bulls o' th' Covenant: Others for pulling down th' high-places Of Synods and Provincial Classes, 280 That us'd to make such hostile inroads Upon the Saints, like bloody NIMRODS Some for fulfilling prophecies, And th' expiration of th' excise And some against th' Egyptian bondage 285 Of holy-days, and paying poundage: Some for the cutting down of groves, And rectifying bakers' loaves: And some for finding out expedients Against the slav'ry of obedience. 290 Some were for Gospel Ministers, And some for Red-coat Seculars, As men most fit t' hold forth the word, And wield the one and th' other sword. Some were for carrying on the work 295 Against the Pope, and some the Turk; Some for engaging to suppress, The Camisado of surplices, That gifts and dispensations hinder'd, And turn'd to th' Outward Man the Inward; 300 More proper for the cloudy night Of Popery than Gospel Light. Others were for abolishing That tool of matrimony, a ring, With which th' unsanctify'd bridegroom 305 Is marry'd only to a thumb; (As wise as ringing of a pig, That us'd to break up ground, and dig;) The bride to nothing but her will, That nulls the after-marriage still 310 Some were for th' utter extirpation Of linsey-woolsey in the nation; And some against all idolizing The Cross in shops-books, or Baptizing Others to make all things recant 315 The Christian or Surname of Saint; And force all churches, streets, and towns, The holy title to renounce. Some 'gainst a Third Estate of Souls, And bringing down the price of coals: 320 Some for abolishing black-pudding, And eating nothing with the blood in; To abrogate them roots and branches; While others were for eating haunches Of warriors, and now and then, 325 The flesh of Kings and mighty men And some for breaking of their bones With rods of ir'n, by secret ones: For thrashing mountains, and with spells For hallowing carriers' packs and bells: 330 Things that the legend never heard of, But made the wicked sore afear'd of. The quacks of Government (who sate At th' unregarded helm of State, And understood this wild confusion 335 Of fatal madness and delusion, Must, sooner than a prodigy, Portend destruction to be nigh) Consider'd timely how t' withdraw, And save their wind-pipes from the law; 340 For one rencounter at the bar Was worse than all th' had 'scap'd in war; And therefore met in consultation To cant and quack upon the nation; Not for the sickly patient's sake, 345 For what to give, but what to take; To feel the pulses of their fees, More wise than fumbling arteries: Prolong the snuff of life in pain, And from the grave recover -- Gain. 350 'Mong these there was a politician With more heads than a beast in vision, And more intrigues in ev'ry one Than all the whores of Babylon: So politic, as if one eye 355 Upon the other were a spy, That, to trepan the one to think The other blind, both strove to blink; And in his dark pragmatick way, As busy as a child at play. 360 H' had seen three Governments run down, And had a hand in ev'ry one; Was for 'em and against 'em all, But barb'rous when they came to fall For, by trepanning th' old to ruin, 365 He made his int'rest with the new one Play'd true and faithful, though against His conscience, and was still advanc'd. For by the witchcraft of rebellion Transform'd t' a feeble state-camelion, 370 By giving aim from side to side, He never fail'd to save his tide, But got the start of ev'ry state, And at a change ne'er came too late; Cou'd turn his word, and oath, and faith, 375 As many ways as in a lath; By turning, wriggle, like a screw, Int' highest trust, and out, for new. For when h' had happily incurr'd, Instead of hemp, to be preferr'd, 380 And pass'd upon a government, He pay'd his trick, and out he went But, being out, and out of hopes To mount his ladder (more) of ropes, Wou'd strive to raise himself upon 385 The publick ruin, and his own; So little did he understand The desp'rate feats he took in hand. For when h' had got himself a name For fraud and tricks, he spoil'd his game; 390 Had forc'd his neck into a noose, To shew his play at fast and loose; And when he chanc'd t' escape, mistook For art and subtlety, his luck. So right his judgment was cut fit, 395 And made a tally to his wit, And both together most profound At deeds of darkness under-ground; As th' earth is easiest undermin'd By vermin impotent and blind. 400 By all these arts, and many more, H' had practis'd long and much before, Our state artificer foresaw Which way the world began to draw. For as old sinners have all points 405 O' th' compass in their bones and joints, Can by their pangs and aches find All turns and changes of the wind, And better than by NAPIER's bones Feel in their own the age of moons; 410 So guilty sinners in a state Can by their crimes prognosticate, And in their consciences feel pain Some days before a show'r of rain. He therefore wisely cast about, 415 All ways he cou'd, t' ensure his throat; And hither came, t' observe and smoke What courses other riskers took And to the utmost do his best To save himself, and hang the rest. 420 To match this Saint, there was another As busy and perverse a Brother, An haberdasher of small wares In politicks and state affairs; More Jew than Rabbi ACHITOPHEL, 425 And better gifted to rebel: For when h' had taught his tribe to 'spouse The Cause, aloft, upon one house, He scorn'd to set his own in order, But try'd another, and went further; 430 So suddenly addicted still To's only principle, his will, That whatsoe'er it chanc'd to prove, Nor force of argument cou'd move; Nor law, nor cavalcade of Holborn, 435 Could render half a grain less stubborn. For he at any time would hang For th' opportunity t' harangue; And rather on a gibbet dangle, Than miss his dear delight, to wrangle; 440 In which his parts were so accomplisht, That, right or wrong, he ne'er was non-plusht; But still his tongue ran on, the less Of weight it bore, with greater ease; And with its everlasting clack 445 Set all men's ears upon the rack. No sooner cou'd a hint appear, But up he started to picqueer, And made the stoutest yield to mercy, When he engag'd in controversy. 450 Not by the force of carnal reason, But indefatigable teazing; With vollies of eternal babble, And clamour, more unanswerable. For though his topics, frail and weak, 455 Cou'd ne'er amount above a freak, He still maintain'd 'em, like his faults, Against the desp'ratest assaults; And back'd their feeble lack of sense, With greater heat and confidence? 460 As bones of Hectors, when they differ, The more they're cudgel'd grow the stiffer. Yet when his profit moderated, The fury of his heat abated. For nothing but his interest 465 Cou'd lay his Devil of Contest. It was his choice, or chance; or curse, T' espouse the Cause for bett'r or worse, And with his worldly goods and wit, And soul and body, worship'd it: 470 But when he found the sullen trapes Possess'd with th' Devil, worms, and claps; The Trojan mare, in foal with Greeks, Not half so full of jadish tricks; Though squeamish in her outward woman, 475 As loose and rampant as Dol Common; He still resolv'd to mend the matter, T' adhere and cleave the obstinater; And still the skittisher and looser Her freaks appear'd, to sit the closer. 480 For fools are stubborn in their way, As coins are harden'd by th' allay: And obstinacy's ne'er so stiff As when 'tis in a wrong belief. These two, with others, being met, 485 And close in consultation set, After a discontented pause, And not without sufficient cause, The orator we nam'd of late, Less troubled with the pangs of State 490 Than with his own impatience, To give himself first audience, After he had a while look'd wise, At last broke silence, and the ice. Quoth he, There's nothing makes me doubt 495 Our last out-goings brought about, More than to see the characters Of real jealousies and fears Not feign'd, as once, but, sadly horrid, Scor'd upon ev'ry Member's forehead; 500 Who, 'cause the clouds are drawn together, And threaten sudden change of weather, Feel pangs and aches of state-turns, And revolutions in their corns; And, since our workings-out are cross'd, 505 Throw up the Cause before 'tis lost. Was it to run away we meant, When, taking of the Covenant, The lamest cripples of the brothers Took oaths to run before all others; 510 But in their own sense only swore To strive to run away before; And now would prove, that words and oath Engage us to renounce them both? 'Tis true, the Cause is in the lurch, 515 Between a Right and Mungrel-Church; The Presbyter and Independent, That stickle which shall make an end on't; As 'twas made out to us the last Expedient -- ( I mean Marg'ret's Fast,) 520 When Providence had been suborn'd, What answer was to be return'd. Else why should tumults fright us now, We have so many times come through? And understand as well to tame, 525 As when they serve our turns t'inflame: Have prov'd how inconsiderable Are all engagements of the rabble, Whose frenzies must be reconcil'd With drums and rattles, like a child; 530 But never prov'd so prosperous As when they were led on by us For all our scourging of religion Began with tumult and sedition; When hurricanes of fierce commotion 535 Became strong motives to devotion; (As carnal seamen, in a storm, Turn pious converts, and reform;) When rusty weapons, with chalk'd edges, Maintain'd our feeble privileges; 540 And brown-bills levy'd in the City, Made bills to pass the Grand Committee; When zeal, with aged clubs and gleaves, Gave chace to rochets and white sleeves, And made the Church, and State, and Laws, 545 Submit t' old iron and the Cause. And as we thriv'd by tumults then, So might we better now agen, If we knew how, as then we did, To use them rightly in our need: 550 Tumults, by which the mutinous Betray themselves instead of us. The hollow-hearted, disaffected, And close malignant are detected, Who lay their lives and fortunes down 555 For pledges to secure our own; And freely sacrifice their ears T' appease our jealousies and fears; And yet, for all these providences W' are offer'd, if we had our senses; 560 We idly sit like stupid blockheads, Our hands committed to our pockets; And nothing but our tongues at large, To get the wretches a discharge: Like men condemn'd to thunder-bolts, 565 Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts; Or fools besotted with their crimes, That know not how to shift betimes, And neither have the hearts to stay, Nor wit enough to run away; 570 Who, if we cou'd resolve on either, Might stand or fall at least together; No mean or trivial solace To partners in extreme distress; Who us'd to lessen their despairs, 575 By parting them int' equal shares; As if the more they were to bear, They felt the weight the easier; And ev'ry one the gentler hung, The more he took his turn among. 580 But 'tis not come to that, as yet, If we had courage left, or wit; Who, when our fate can be no worse, Are fitted for the bravest course; Have time to rally, and prepare 585 Our last and best defence, despair; Despair, by which the gallant'st feats Have been atchiev'd in greatest straits, And horrid'st danger safely wav'd, By being courageously out-brav'd; 590 As wounds by wider wounds are heal'd, And poisons by themselves expell'd: And so they might be now agen, If we were, what we shou'd be, men; And not so dully desperate, 595 To side against ourselves with Fate; As criminals, condemn'd to suffer, Are blinded first, and then turn'd over. This comes of breaking Covenants, And setting up Exauns of Saints, 600 That fine, like aldermen, for grace, To be excus'd the efficace. For Spiritual men are too transcendent, That mount their banks for Independent, To hang like MAHOMET in th' air, 605 Or St. IGNATIUS at his prayer, By pure geometry, and hate Dependence upon Church or State; Disdain the pedantry o' th' letter; And since obedience is better 610 (The Scripture says) than sacrifice, Presume the less on't will suffice; And scorn to have the moderat'st stints Prescrib'd their peremptory hints, Or any opinion, true or false, 615 Declar'd as such, in doctrinals But left at large to make their best on, Without b'ing call'd t' account or question, Interpret all the spleen reveals; As WHITTINGTON explain'd the bells; 620 And bid themselves turn back agen Lord May'rs of New Jerusalem; But look so big and over-grown, They scorn their edifiers t' own, Who taught them all their sprinkling lessons, 625 Their tones, and sanctified expressions Bestow'd their Gifts upon a Saint, Like Charity on those that want; And learn'd th' apocryphal bigots T' inspire themselves with short-hand notes; 630 For which they scorn and hate them worse Than dogs and cats do sow-gelders. For who first bred them up to pray, And teach, the House of Commons Way? Where had they all their gifted phrases, 635 But from our CALAMYS and CASES? Without whose sprinkling and sowing, Who e'er had heard of NYE or OWEN? Their dispensations had been stifled, But for our ADONIRAM BYFIELD; 640 And had they not begun the war, Th' had ne'er been sainted, as they are: For Saints in peace degenerate, And dwindle down to reprobate; Their zeal corrupts, like standing water, 645 In th' intervals of war and slaughter; Abates the sharpness of its edge, Without the power of sacrilege. And though they've tricks to cast their sins As easy as serpents do their skins, 650 That in a while grow out agen, In peace they turn mere carnal men, And from the most refin'd of saints, As naturally grow miscreants, As barnacles turn SOLAND geese 655 In th' Islands of the ORCADES. Their dispensation's but a ticket, For their conforming to the wicked; With whom the greatest difference Lies more in words, and shew, than sense. 660 For as the Pope, that keeps the gate Of Heaven, wears three crowns of state; So he that keeps the gate of Hell, Proud CERBERUS, wears three heads as well; And if the world has any troth 665 Some have been canoniz'd in both. But that which does them greatest harm, Their spiritual gizzards are too warm, Which puts the over-heated sots In fevers still, like other goats. 670 For though the Whore bends Hereticks With flames of fire, like crooked sticks, Our Schismaticks so vastly differ, Th' hotter th' are, they grow the stiffer; Still setting off their spiritual goods 675 With fierce and pertinacious feuds. For zeal's a dreadful termagant, That teaches Saints to tear and rant, And Independents to profess The doctrine of dependences: 680 Turns meek, and secret, sneaking ones, To raw-heads fierce and bloody-bones: And, not content with endless quarrels Against the wicked, and their morals, The GIBELLINES, for want of GUELPHS, 685 Divert their rage upon themselves. For now the war is not between The Brethren and the Men of Sin, But Saint and Saint, to spill the blood Of one another's brotherhood; 690 Where neither side can lay pretence To liberty of conscience, Or zealous suff'ring for the cause, To gain one groat's-worth of applause; For though endur'd with resolution, 695 'Twill ne'er amount to persecution. Shall precious Saints, and secret ones, Break one another's outward bones, And eat the flesh of Brethren, Instead of Kings and mighty men? 700 When fiends agree among themselves, Shall they be found the greatest elves? When BELL's at union with the DRAGON, And BAAL-PEOR friends with DAGON, When savage bears agree with bears, 705 Shall secret ones lug Saints by th' ears, And not atone their fatal wrath, When common danger threatens both? Shall mastiffs, by the coller pull'd, Engag'd with bulls, let go their hold, 710 And Saints, whose necks are pawn'd at stake, No notice of the danger take? But though no pow'r of Heav'n or Hell Can pacify phanatick zeal, Who wou'd not guess there might be hopes, 715 The fear of gallowses and ropes, Before their eyes, might reconcile Their animosities a while; At least until th' had a clear stage, And equal freedom to engage, 720 Without the danger of surprize By both our common enemies? This none but we alone cou'd doubt, Who understand their workings out; And know them, both in soul and conscience, 725 Giv'n up t' as reprobate a nonsense As spiritual out-laws, whom the pow'r Of miracle can ne'er restore We, whom at first they set up under, In revelation only of plunder, 730 Who since have had so many trials Of their encroaching self-denials, That rook'd upon us with design To out-reform, and undermine; Took all our interest and commands 735 Perfidiously out of our hands; Involv'd us in the guilt of blood Without the motive gains allow'd, And made us serve as ministerial, Like younger Sons of Father BELIAL; 740 And yet, for all th' inhuman wrong Th' had done us and the Cause so long, We never fail to carry on The work still as we had begun; But true and faithfully obey'd 745 And neither preach'd them hurt, nor pray'd; Nor troubled them to crop our ears, Nor hang us like the cavaliers; Nor put them to the charge of gaols, To find us pill'ries and cart's-tails, 750 Or hangman's wages, which the State Was forc'd (before them) to be at, That cut, like tallies, to the stumps, Our ears for keeping true accompts, And burnt our vessels, like a new 755 Seal'd peck, or bushel, for b'ing true; But hand in hand, like faithful brothers, Held for the Cause against all others, Disdaining equally to yield One syllable of what we held, 760 And though we differ'd now and then 'Bout outward things, and outward men, Our inward men, and constant frame Of spirit, still were near the same; And till they first began to cant 765 And sprinkle down the Covenant, We ne'er had call in any place, Nor dream'd of teaching down free grace, But join'd our gifts perpetually Against the common enemy. 770 Although 'twas ours and their opinion, Each other's Church was but a RIMMON; And yet, for all this gospel-union, And outward shew of Church-communion, They'll ne'er admit us to our shares 775 Of ruling Church or State affairs; Nor give us leave t' absolve, or sentence T' our own conditions of repentance; But shar'd our dividend o' th' Crown, We had so painfully preach'd down; 780 And forc'd us, though against the grain, T' have calls to teach it up again: For 'twas but justice to restore The wrongs we had receiv'd before; And when 'twas held forth in our way, 785 W' had been ungrateful not to pay; Who, for the right w' have done the nation, Have earn'd our temporal salvation; And put our vessels in a way Once more to come again in play. 790 For if the turning of us out Has brought this Providence about, And that our only suffering Is able to bring in the King, What would our actions not have done, 795 Had we been suffer'd to go on? And therefore may pretend t' a share, At least; in carrying on th' affair. But whether that be so, or not, W' have done enough to have it thought; 800 And that's as good as if w' had done't, And easier pass't upon account: For if it be but half deny'd, 'Tis half as good as justifi'd. The world is nat'rally averse 805 To all the truth it sees or hears But swallows nonsense, and a lie, With greediness and gluttony And though it have the pique, and long, 'Tis still for something in the wrong; 810 As women long, when they're with child, For things extravagant and wild; For meats ridiculous and fulsome, But seldom any thing that's wholesome; And, like the world, men's jobbernoles 815 Turn round upon their ears, the poles; And what they're confidently told, By no sense else can be control'd. And this, perhaps, may prove time means Once more to hedge-in Providence, 820 For as relapses make diseases More desp'rate than their first accesses, If we but get again in pow'r, Our work is easier than before And we more ready and expert 825 I' th' mystery to do our part. We, who did rather undertake The first war to create than make, And when of nothing 'twas begun, Rais'd funds as strange to carry 't on; 830 Trepann'd the State, and fac'd it down With plots and projects of our own; And if we did such feats at first, What can we now we're better vers'd? Who have a freer latitude, 835 Than sinners give themselves, allow'd, And therefore likeliest to bring in, On fairest terms, our discipline; To which it was reveal'd long since, We were ordain'd by Providence; 840 When three Saints Ears, our predecessors, The Cause's primitive Confessors, B'ing crucify'd, the nation stood In just so many years of blood; That, multiply'd by six, exprest 845 The perfect number of the beast, And prov'd that we must be the men To bring this work about agen; And those who laid the first foundation, Compleat the thorough Reformation: 850 For who have gifts to carry on So great a work, but we alone? What churches have such able pastors, And precious, powerful, preaching masters? Possess'd with absolute dominions 855 O'er brethren's purses and opinions? And trusted with the double keys Of Heaven and their warehouses; Who, when the Cause is in distress, Can furnish out what sums they please, 860 That brooding lie in bankers' hands, To be dispos'd at their commands; And daily increase and multiply, With doctrine, use, and usury: Can fetch in parties (as in war 865 All other heads of cattle are) From th' enemy of all religions, As well as high and low conditions, And share them, from blue ribbands, down To all blue aprons in the town; 870 From ladies hurried in calleches, With cor'nets at their footmens' breeches, To bawds as fat as Mother Nab; All guts and belly, like a crab. Our party's great, and better ty'd 875 With oaths and trade than any side, Has one considerable improvement, To double fortify the Cov'nant: I mean our Covenant to purchase Delinquents titles, and the Churches; 880 That pass in sale, from hand to hand, Among ourselves, for current land; And rise or fall, like Indian actions, According to the rate of factions Our best reserve for Reformation, 885 When new out-goings give occasion; That keeps the loins of Brethren girt The Covenant (their creed) t' assert; And when th' have pack'd a Parliament, Will once more try th' expedient: 890 Who can already muster friends, To serve for members, to our ends, That represent no part o' th' nation, But Fisher's-Folly Congregation; Are only tools to our intrigues, 895 And sit like geese to hatch our eggs; Who, by their precedents of wit, T' out-fast, out-loiter, and out-sit, Can order matters underhand, To put all bus'ness to a stand; 900 Lay publick bills aside for private, And make 'em one another drive out; Divert the great and necessary, With trifles to contest and vary; And make the Ration represent, 905 And serve for us, in Parliament Cut out more work than can be done. In PLATO'S year, but finish none; Unless it be the Bulls of LENTHAL, That always pass'd for fundamental; 910 Can set up grandee against grandee, To squander time away, and bandy; Make Lords and Commoners lay sieges To one another's privileges, And, rather than compound the quarrel, 915 Engage to th' inevitable peril Of both their ruins; th' only scope And consolation of our hope; Who though we do not play the game, Assist as much by giving aim: 920 Can introduce our ancient arts, For heads of factions t' act their parts; Know what a leading voice is worth, A seconding, a third, or fourth How much a casting voice comes to, 925 That turns up trump, of ay, or no; And, by adjusting all at th' end, Share ev'ry one his dividend An art that so much study cost, And now's in danger to be lost, 930 Unless our ancient virtuosos, That found it out, get into th' Houses. These are the courses that we took To carry things by hook or crook; And practis'd down from forty-four, 935 Until they turn'd us out of door Besides the herds of Boutefeus We set on work without the House; When ev'ry knight and citizen Kept legislative journeymen, 940 To bring them in intelligence From all points of the rabble's sense, And fill the lobbies of both Houses With politick important buzzes: Set committees of cabals, 945 To pack designs without the walls; Examine, and draw up all news, And fit it to our present use. Agree upon the plot o' th' farce, And ev'ry one his part rehearse, 950 Make Q's of answers, to way-lay What th' other pasties like to say What repartees, and smart reflections, Shall be return'd to all objections; And who shall break the master-jest, 955 And what, and how, upon the rest Held pamphlets out, with safe editions, Of proper slanders and seditions; And treason for a token send, By Letter to a Country Friend; 960 Disperse lampoons, the only wit That men, like burglary, commit; Wit falser than a padder's face, That all its owner does betrays; Who therefore dares not trust it when 965 He's in his calling to be seen; Disperse the dung on barren earth, To bring new weeds of discord forth; Be sure to keep up congregations, In spight of laws and proclamations: 970 For Charlatans can do no good Until they're mounted in a crowd; And when they're punish'd, all the hurt Is but to fare the better for't; As long as confessors are sure 975 Of double pay for all th' endure; And what they earn in persecution, Are paid t' a groat in contribution. Whence some Tub-Holders-forth have made In powd'ring-tubs their richest trade; 980 And while they kept their shops in prison, Have found their prices strangely risen. Disdain to own the least regret For all the Christian blood w' have let; 'Twill save our credit, and maintain 985 Our title to do so again; That needs not cost one dram of sense, But pertinacious impudence. Our constancy t' our principles, In time will wear out all things else; 990 Like marble statues rubb'd in pieces With gallantry of pilgrims' kisses; While those who turn and wind their oaths, Have swell'd and sunk, like other froths; Prevail'd a while, but 'twas not long 995 Before from world to world they swung: As they had turn'd from side to side, And as the changelings liv'd, they dy'd. This said, th' impatient States-monger Could now contain himself no longer; 1000 Who had not spar'd to shew his piques Against th' haranguer's politicks, With smart remarks of leering faces, And annotations of grimaces. After h' had administer'd a dose 1005 Of snuff-mundungus to his nose, And powder'd th' inside of his skull, Instead of th' outward jobbernol, He shook it with a scornful look On th' adversary, and thus he spoke: 1010 In dressing a calves head, although The tongue and brains together go, Both keep so great a distance here, 'Tis strange if ever they come near; For who did ever play his gambols 1015 With such insufferable rambles To make the bringing in the KING, And keeping of him out, one thing? Which none could do, but those that swore T' as point-plank nonsense heretofore: 1020 That to defend, was to invade; And to assassinate, to aid Unless, because you drove him out, (And that was never made a doubt,) No pow'r is able to restore, 1025 And bring him in, but on your score A spiritual doctrine, that conduces Most properly to all your uses. 'Tis true, a scorpions oil is said To cure the wounds the vermine made; 1030 And weapons, drest with salves, restore And heal the hurts they gave before; But whether Presbyterians have So much good nature as the salve, Or virtue in them as the vermine, 1035 Those who have try'd them can determine. Indeed, 'th pity you should miss Th' arrears of all your services, And for th' eternal obligation Y' have laid upon th' ungrateful nation, 1040 Be us'd so unconscionably hard, As not to find a just reward, For letting rapine loose, and murther, To rage just so far, but no further; And setting all the land on fire, 1045 To burn't to a scantling, but no higher; For vent'ring to assassinate, And cut the throats, of Church and State, And not be allow'd the fittest men To take the charge of both agen: 1050 Especially, that have the grace Of self-denying, gifted face; Who when your projects have miscarry'd, Can lay them, with undaunted forehead, On those you painfully trepann'd, 1055 And sprinkled in at second hand; As we have been, to share the guilt Of Christian Blood, devoutly spilt; For so our ignorance was flamm'd To damn ourselves, t' avoid being damn'd; 1060 Till finding your old foe, the hangman, Was like to lurch you at back-gammon And win your necks upon the set, As well as ours, who did but bet, (For he had drawn your ears before, 1065 And nick'd them on the self-same score,) We threw the box and dice away, Before y' had lost us, at foul play; And brought you down to rook, and lie, And fancy only, on the by; 1070 Redeem'd your forfeit jobbernoles From perching upon lofty poles; And rescu'd all your outward traitors From hanging up like aligators; For which ingeniously y' have shew'd 1075 Your Presbyterian gratitude: Would freely have paid us home in kind, And not have been one rope behind. Those were your motives to divide, And scruple, on the other side. 1080 To turn your zealous frauds, and force, To fits of conscience and remorse; To be convinc'd they were in vain, And face about for new again; For truth no more unveil'd your eyes, 1085 Than maggots are convinc'd to flies And therefore all your lights and calls Are but apocryphal and false, To charge us with the consequences Of all your native insolences, 1090 That to your own imperious wills Laid Law and Gospel neck and heels; Corrupted the Old Testament, To serve the New for precedent T' amend its errors, and defects, 1095 With murther, and rebellion texts; Of which there is not any one In all the Book to sow upon And therefore (from your tribe) the Jews Held Christian doctrine forth, and use; 1100 As Mahomet (your chief) began To mix them in the Alchoran: Denounc'd and pray'd, with fierce devotion, And bended elbows on the cushion; Stole from the beggars all your tones, 1105 And gifted mortifying groans; Had Lights where better eyes were blind, As pigs are said to see the wind Fill'd Bedlam with predestination, And Knights-bridge with illumination: 1110 Made children, with your tones, to run for't, As bad as bloody-bones, or LUNSFORD: While women, great with child, miscarry'd, For being to malignants marry'd Transform'd all wives to DALILAHS 1115 Whose husbands were not for the Cause; And turn'd the men to ten horn'd cattle, Because they came not out to battle Made taylors' prentices turn heroes, For fear of being transform'd to MEROZ: 1120 And rather forfeit their indentures, Than not espouse the Saints' adventures. Could transubstantiate, metamorphose, And charm whole herds of beasts, like Orpheus; Inchant the King's and Churches lands 1125 T' obey and follow your commands; And settle on a new freehold, As MARCLY-HILL had done of old: Could turn the Covenant, and translate The gospel into spoons and plate: 1130 Expound upon all merchants' cashes, And open th' intricatest places Could catechize a money-box, And prove all powches orthodox; Until the Cause became a DAMON, 1135 And PYTHIAS the wicked Mammon. And yet, in spight of all your charms To conjure legion up in arms, And raise more devils in the rout Than e'er y' were able to cast out, 1140 Y' have been reduc'd, and by those fools Bred up (you say) in your own schools; Who, though but gifted at your feet, Have made it plain, they have more wit; By whom y' have been so oft trepann'd, 1145 And held forth out of all command, Out-gifted, out-impuls'd, out-done, And out-reveal'd at carryings-on; Of all your dispensations worm'd, Out-Providenc'd, and out-reform'd; 1150 Ejected out of Church and State, And all things, but the peoples' hate; And spirited out of th' enjoyments Of precious, edifying employments, By those who lodg'd their Gifts and Graces, 1155 Like better bowlers, in your places; All which you bore with resolution, Charg'd on th' accompt of persecution; And though most righteously opprest, Against your wills, still acquiesc'd; 1160 And never hum'd and hah'd sedition, Nor snuffled treason, nor misprision. That is, because you never durst; For had you preach'd and pray'd your worst, Alas! you were no longer able 1165 To raise your posse of the rabble: One single red-coat centinel Out-charm'd the magick of the spell; And, with his squirt-fire, could disperse Whole troops with chapter rais'd and verse. 1170 We knew too well those tricks of yours, To leave it ever in your powers; Or trust our safeties, or undoings, To your disposing of out-goings; Or to your ordering Providence, 1175 One farthing's-worth of consequence. For had you pow'r to undermine, Or wit to carry a design, Or correspondence to trepan, Inveigle, or betray one man, 1180 There's nothing else that intervenes, And bars your zeal to use the means And therefore wond'rous like, no doubt, To bring in Kings, or keep them out. Brave undertakers to restore, 1185 That cou'd not keep yourselves in pow'r; T' advance the int'rests of the Crown, That wanted wit to keep your own. 'Tis true, you have (for I'd be loth To wrong ye) done your parts in both, 1190 To keep him out, and bring him in, As grace is introduc'd by sin; For 'twas your zealous want of sense, And sanctify'd impertinence, Your carrying business in a huddle, 1195 That forc'd our rulers to new-model; Oblig'd the State to tack about, And turn you, root and branch, all out; To reformado, one and all, T' your great Croysado General. 1200 Your greedy slav'ring to devour, Before 'twas in your clutches, pow'r, That sprung the game you were to set, Before y' had time to draw the net; Your spight to see the Churches' lands 1205 Divided into other hands, And all your sacrilegious ventures Laid out in tickets and debentures; Your envy to he sprinkled down, By Under-Churches in the town; 1210 And no course us'd to stop their mouths, Nor th' Independents' spreading growths All which consider'd, 'tis most true None bring him in so much as you Who have prevail'd beyond their plots, 1215 Their midnight juntos, and seal'd knots That thrive more by your zealous piques, Than all their own rash politicks And you this way may claim a share In carrying (as you brag) th' affair; 1220 Else frogs and toads, that croak'd the Jews From PHARAOH and his brick-kilns loose, And flies and mange, that set them free From task-masters and slavery, Were likelier to do the feat, 1225 In any indiff'rent man's conceit For who e'er heard of restoration Until your thorough Reformation? That is, the King's and Churches' land Were sequester'd int' other hands: 1230 For only then, and not before, Your eyes were open'd to restore. And when the work was carrying on, Who cross'd it, but yourselves alone? As by a world of hints appears, 1235 All plain and extant as your ears. But first, o' th' first: The Isle of WIGHT Will rise up, if you should deny't; Where HENDERSON, and th' other masses, Were sent to cap texts, and put cases; 1240 To pass for deep and learned scholars, Although but paltry Ob and Sollers: As if th' unseasonable fools Had been a coursing in the schools; Until th' had prov'd the Devil author 1245 O' th' Covenant, and the Cause his daughter, For when they charg'd him with the guilt Of all the blood that had been spilt, They did not mean he wrought th' effusion, In person, like Sir PRIDE, or HUGHSON, 1250 But only those who first begun The quarrel were by him set on; And who could those be but the Saints, Those Reformation Termagants? But e'er this pass'd, the wise debate 1255 Spent so much time, it grew too late; For OLIVER had gotten ground, T' inclose him with his warriors round Had brought his Providence about, And turn'd th' untimely sophists out, 1260 Nor had the UXBRIDGE bus'ness less Of nonsense in't, or sottishness, When from a scoundrel Holder-forth, The scum as well as son o' th' earth, Your mighty Senators took law; 1265 At his command, were forc'd t' withdraw, And sacrifice the peace o' th' nation To doctrine, use and application. So when the SCOTS, your constant cronies, Th' espousers of your Cause and monies, 1270 Who had so often, in your aid, So many ways been soundly paid, Came in at last for better ends, To prove themselves your trusty friends, You basely left them, and the Church 1275 They train'd you up to, in the lurch, And suffer'd your own tribe of Christians To fall before, as true Philistines. This shews what utensils y' have been, To bring the King's concernments in; 1280 Which is so far from being true, That none but he can bring in you: And if he take you into trust, Will find you most exactly just: Such as will punctually repay 1285 With double interest, and betray. Not that I think those pantomimes, Who vary action with the times, Are less ingenious in their art, Than those who dully act one part; 1290 Or those who turn from side to side, More guilty than the wind and tide. All countries are a wise man's home, And so are governments to some, Who change them for the same intrigues 1295 That statesmen use in breaking leagues; While others, in old faiths and troths, Look odd as out-of-fashion'd cloths; And nastier in an old opinion, Than those who never shift their linnen. 1300 For true and faithful's sure to lose, Which way soever the game goes; And whether parties lose or win, Is always nick'd, or else hedg'd in: While pow'r usurp'd, like stol'n delight, 1305 Is more bewitching than the right; And when the times begin to alter, None rise so high as from the halter. And so may we, if w' have but sense To use the necessary means; 1310 And not your usual stratagems On one another, Lights and Dreams To stand on terms as positive, As if we did not take, but give: Set up the Covenant on crutches, 1315 'Gainst those who have us in their clutches, And dream of pulling churches down, Before w' are sure to prop our own: Your constant method of proceeding, Without the carnal mans of heeding; 1320 Who 'twixt your inward sense and outward, Are worse, than if y' had none, accoutred. I grant, all courses are in vain, Unless we can get in again; The only way that's left us now; 1325 But all the difficulty's, How? 'Tis true, w' have money, th' only pow 'r That all mankind falls down before; Money, that, like the swords of kings, Is the last reason of all things; 1330 And therefore need not doubt our play Has all advantages that way; As long as men have faith to sell, And meet with those that can pay well; Whose half-starv'd pride, and avarice, 1335 One Church and State will not suffice T' expose to sale, beside the wages Of storing plagues to after-ages. Nor is our money less our own, Than 'twas before we laid it down; 1340 For 'twill return, and turn t' account, If we are brought, in play upon't: Or but, by casting knaves, get in, What pow 'r can hinder us to win? We know the arts we us'd before, 1345 In peace and war, and something more; And by th' unfortunate events, Can mend our next experiments: For when w' are taken into trust, How easy are the wisest choust? 1350 Who see but th' outsides of our feats, And not their secret springs and weights; And while they're busy at their ease, Can carry what designs we please. How easy is it to serve for agents, 1355 To prosecute our old engagements? To keep the Good Old Cause on foot, And present power from taking root? Inflame them both with false alarms Of plots and parties taking arms; 1360 To keep the Nation's wounds too wide From healing up of side to side; Profess the passionat'st concerns For both their interests by turns; The only way to improve our own, 1365 By dealing faithfully with none; (As bowls run true, by being made On purpose false, and to be sway'd:) For if we should be true to either, 'Twould turn us out of both together; 1370 And therefore have no other means To stand upon our own defence, But keeping up our ancient party In vigour, confident and hearty: To reconcile our late dissenters, 1375 Our brethren, though by other venters; Unite them, and their different maggots, As long and short sticks are in faggots, And make them join again as close As when they first began t' espouse; 1380 Erect them into separate New Jewish tribes, in Church and State; To join in marriage and commerce, And only among themselves converse; And all that are not of their mind, 1385 Make enemies to all mankind: Take all religions in and stickle From Conclave down to Conventicle; Agreeing still, or disagreeing, According to the Light in being. 1390 Sometimes for liberty of conscience, And spiritual mis-rule, in one sense; But in another quite contrary, As dispensations chance to vary; And stand for, as the times will bear it, 1395 All contradictions of the Spirit: Protect their emissaries, empower'd To preach sedition and the word; And when they're hamper'd by the laws, Release the lab'rers for the Cause, 1400 And turn the persecution back On those that made the first attack; To keep them equally in awe, From breaking or maintaining law: And when they have their fits too soon, 1405 Before the full-tides of the moon, Put off their zeal t' a fitter season For sowing faction in and treason; And keep them hooded, and their Churches, Like hawks from baiting on their perches, 1410 That, when the blessed time shall come Of quitting BABYLON and ROME, They may be ready to restore Their own Fifth Monarchy once more. Meanwhile be better arm'd to fence 1415 Against revolts of Providence. By watching narrowly, and snapping All blind sides of it, they happen For if success could make us Saints, Or ruin turn'd us miscreants: 1420 A scandal that wou'd fall too hard Upon a few, and. unprepar'd. These are the courses we must run, Spight of our hearts, or be undone; And not to stand on terms and freaks, 1425 Before we have secur'd our necks; But do our work, as out of sight, As stars by day, and suns by night; All licence of the people own, In opposition to the Crown; 1430 And for the Crown as fiercely side, The head and body to divide; The end of all we first design'd, And all that yet remains behind Be sure to spare no publick rapine, 1435 On all emergencies, that happen; For 'tis as easy to supplant Authority as men in want; As some of us, in trusts, have made The one hand with the other trade; 1440 Gain'd vastly by their joint endeavour; The right a thief; the left receiver; And what the one, by tricks, forestall'd, The other, by as sly, retail'd. For gain has wonderful effects 1445 T' improve the Factory of Sects; The rule of faith in all professions. And great DIANA of the EPHESIANS; Whence turning of Religion's made The means to turn and wind a trade: 1450 And though some change it for the worse, They put themselves into a course; And draw in store of customers, To thrive the better in commerce: For all Religions flock together, 1455 Like tame and wild fowl of a feather; To nab the itches of their sects, As jades do one another's necks. Hence 'tis, Hypocrisy as well Will serve t' improve a Church as ZEAL: 1460 As Persecution or Promotion, Do equally advance Devotion. Let business, like ill watches, go Sometime too fast, sometime too slow; For things in order are put out 1465 So easy, Ease itself will do't; But when the feat's design'd and meant, What miracle can bar th' event? For 'tis more easy to betray, Than ruin any other way. 1470 All possible occasions start The weighty'st matters to divert; Obstruct, perplex, distract, intangle, And lay perpetual trains to wrangle. But in affairs of less import, 1475 That neither do us good nor hurt, And they receive as little by, Out-fawn as much, and out-comply; And seem as scrupulously just, To bait our hooks for greater trust; 1480 But still be careful to cry down All publick actions, though our own: The least miscarriage aggravate, And charge it all upon the Sate; Express the horrid'st detestation, 1485 And pity the distracted nation Tell stories scandalous and false, I' th' proper language of cabals, Where all a subtle statesman says, Is half in words, and half in face; 1490 (As Spaniards talk in dialogues Of heads and shoulders, nods and shrugs:) Entrust it under solemn vows Of mum, and silence, and the rose, To be retail'd again in whispers, 1495 For th' easy credulous to disperse. Thus far the Statesman -- When a shout, Heard at a distance, put him out; And straight another, all aghast, Rush'd in with equal fear and haste; 1500 Who star'd about, as pale as death, And, for a while, as out of breath; Till having gather'd up his wits, He thus began his tale by fits. That beastly rabble -- that came down 1505 From all the garrets -- in the town, And stalls, and shop-boards -- in vast swarms, With new-chalk'd bills -- and rusty arms, To cry the Cause -- up, heretofore, And bawl the BISHOPS -- out of door, 1510 Are now drawn up -- in greater shoals, To roast -- and broil us on the coals, And all the Grandees -- of our Members Are carbonading -- on the embers; Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses -- 1515 Held forth by Rumps -- of Pigs and Geese, That serve for Characters -- and Badges. To represent their Personages: Each bonfire is a funeral pile, In which they roast, and scorch, and broil, 1520 And ev'ry representative Have vow'd to roast -- and broil alive: And 'tis a miracle, we are not Already sacrific' d incarnate. For while we wrangle here, and jar, 1525 W' are grilly'd all at TEMPLE-BAR: Some on the sign-post of an ale-house, Hang in effigy, on the gallows; Made up of rags, to personate Respective Officers of State; 1530 That henceforth they may stand reputed, Proscrib'd in law, and executed; And while the Work is carrying on Be ready listed under DON, That worthy patriot, once the bellows, 1535 And tinder-box, of all his fellows; The activ'st Member of the Five, As well as the most primitive; Who, for his faithful service then Is chosen for a Fifth agen: 1540 (For since the State has made a Quint Of Generals, he's listed in't.) This worthy, as the world will say, Is paid in specie, his own way; For, moulded to the life in clouts, 1545 Th' have pick'd from dung-hills hereabouts, He's mounted on a hazel bavin, A cropp'd malignant baker gave 'm; And to the largest bone-fire riding, They've roasted COOK already and PRIDE in; 1550 On whom in equipage and state, His scarecrow fellow-members wait, And march in order, two and two, As at thanksgivings th' us'd to do; Each in a tatter'd talisman, 1555 Like vermin in effigie slain. But (what's more dreadful than the rest) Those Rumps are but the tail o' th' Beast, Set up by Popish engineers, As by the crackers plainly appears; 1560 For none but Jesuits have a mission To preach the faith with ammunition, And propagate the Church with powder: Their founder was a blown-up Soldier. These spiritual pioneers o' th' Whore's, 1565 That have the charge of all her stores, Since first they fail'd in their designs, To take in Heav'n by springing mines, And with unanswerable barrels Of gunpowder dispute their quarrels, 1570 Now take a course more practicable, By laying trains to fire the rabble, And blow us up in th' open streets, Disguis'd in Rumps, like Sambenites; More like to ruin, and confound, 1575 Than all the doctrines under ground. Nor have they chosen Rumps amiss For symbols of State-mysteries; Though some suppose 'twas but to shew How much they scorn'd the Saints, the few; 1580 Who, 'cause they're wasted to the stumps, Are represented best by Rumps. But Jesuits have deeper reaches In all their politick far-fetches, And from the Coptick Priest, Kircherus, 1585 Found out this mystick way to jeer us. For, as th'

Egyptians us'd by bees T' express their antick PTOLOMIES; And by their stings, the swords they wore, Held forth authority and power; 1590 Because these subtil animals Bear all their int'rests in their tails; And when they're once impar'd in that, Are banish'd their well-order'd state; They thought all governments were best 1595 By Hieroglyphick Rumps exprest. For, as in bodies natural, The rump's the fundament of all; So, in a commonwealth, or realm, The government is call'd the helm; 1600 With which, like vessels under sail, They're turn'd and winded by the tail; The tail, which birds and fishes steer Their courses with through sea and air; To whom the rudder of the rump is 1605 The same thing with the stern and compass. This shews how perfectly the Rump And Commonwealth in nature jump. For as a fly, that goes to bed, Rests with his tail above his head, 1610 So in this mungrel state of ours; The rabble are the supreme powers; That hors'd us on their backs, to show us A jadish trick at last, and throw us. The learned Rabbins of the Jews 1615 Write there's a bone, which they call leuz, I' th' rump of man, of such a virtue, No force in nature can do hurt to; And therefore at the last great day, All th' other members shall, they say, 1620 Spring out of this, as from a seed All sorts of vegetals proceed; From whence the learned sons of art Os Sacrum justly stile that part. Then what can better represent 1625 Than this Rump Bone the Parliament; That, alter several rude ejections, And as prodigious resurrections, With new reversions of nine lives, Starts up, and like a cat revives? 1630 But now, alas! they're all expir'd, And th' House, as well as Members, fir'd; Consum'd in kennels by the rout, With which they other fires put out: Condemn'd t' ungoverning distress, 1635 And paultry, private wretchedness; Worse than the Devil, to privation, Beyond all hopes of restoration; And parted, like the body and soul, From all dominion and controul. 1640 We, who cou'd lately with a look Enact, establish, or revoke; Whose arbitrary nods gave law, And frowns kept multitudes in awe; Before the bluster of whose huff, 1645 All hats, as in a storm, flew off; Ador'd and bowed to by the great, Down to the footman and valet; Had more bent knees than chapel-mats, And prayers than the crowns of hats; 1650 Shall now be scorn'd as wretchedly; For ruin's just as low as high; Which might be suffer'd, were it all The horror that attends our fall: For some of us have scores more large 1655 Than heads and quarters can discharge; And others, who, by restless scraping, With publick frauds, and private rapine, Have mighty heaps of wealth amass'd, Would gladly lay down all at last; 1660 And to be but undone, entail Their vessels on perpetual jail; And bless the Dev'l to let them farms Of forfeit souls on no worse terms. This said, a near and louder shout 1665 Put all th' assembly to the rout, Who now begun t' out-run their fear, As horses do from whom they bear; But crowded on with so mach haste, Until th' had block'd the passage fast, 1670 And barricado'd it with haunches Of outward men, and bulks, and paunches, That with their shoulders strove to squeeze, And rather save a crippled piece Of all their crush'd and broken members, 1675 Than have them grilled on the embers; Still pressing on with heavy packs Of one another on their backs: The van-guard could no longer hear The charges of the forlorn rear, 1680 But, born down headlong by the rout, Were trampled sorely under foot: Yet nothing prov'd so formidable As the horrid cookery of the rabble; And fear, that keeps all feeling out, 1685 As lesser pains are by the gout, Reliev'd 'em with a fresh supply Of rallied force enough to fly, And beat a Tuscan running-horse, Whose jockey-rider is all spurs. 1690 NOTES TO PART III. CANTO II. 1 g The Learned write, &c.] An insect breeze. Breezes often bring along with them great quantities of insects, which some are of opinion, are generated from viscous exhalations in the air; but our Author makes them proceed from a cow's dung, and afterwards become a plague to that whence it received its original. 13 h For as the Persian, &c.] The Magi were priests and philosophers among the Persians, intrusted with the government both civil and ecclesiastick, much addicted to the observation of the stars. Zoroaster is reported to be their first author. They had this custom amongst them, to preserve and continue their families by incestuous copulation with their own mothers. Some are of opinion, that the three wise men that came out of the East to worship our Saviour were some of these. 51 i At Michael's Term, &c.] St. Michael, an archangel; mentioned in St. Jude's Epistle, Verse 9. 78 k And laid about, &c.] William Prynne, of Lincoln's-Inn, Esq. born at Swanswick, who stiled himself Utter Barrister, a very warm person, and voluminous writer; and after the Restoration, keeper of the records in the Tower. 146 l As Dutch Boors, &c.] It is reported of the Dutch women, that making so great use of stoves, and often putting them under their petticoats, they engender a kind of ugly monster, which is called a Sooterkin. 151 m T' out-cant the Babylonian, &c.] At the building of the Tower of Babel, when God made the confusion of languages. 215 Toss'd in a furious Hurricane, &c.] At Oliver's death was a most furious tempest, such as had not been known in the memory of man, or hardly ever recorded to have been in this nation. This Sterry reported something ridiculously fabulous concerning Oliver, not unlike what Proculus did of Romulus. 224 o False Heaven, &c.] After the Restoration, Oliver's body was dug up, and his head set at the farther end of Westminster- hall, near which place there is an house of entertainment, which is commonly known by the name of Heaven. 227 p So Romulus, &c.] A Roman Senator, whose name was Proculus, and much beloved by Romulus, made oath before the Senate, that this prince appeared to him after his death, and predicted the future grandeur of that city, promising to be protector of it; and expressly charged him, that he should be adored there under the name of Quirinus; and he had his temple on Mount Quirinale. 231 q Next his Son, &c.] Oliver's eldest son Richard was, by him before his death, declared his successor; and, by order of privy-council, proclaimed Lord Protector, and received the compliments of congratulation and condolence, at the same time, from the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen: and addresses were presented to him from all parts of the nation, promising to stand by him with their lives and fortunes. He summoned a Parliament to meet at Westminster, which recognized him Lord Protector: yet, notwithstanding, Fleetwood, Desborough, and their partizans, managed affairs so, that he was obliged to resign. 245 r To edify upon the Ruins, &c.] John of Leyden, whose name was Buckhold, was a butcher of the same place, but a crafty, eloquent, and seditious fellow and one of those called Anabaptists. He went and set up at Munster, where, with Knipperdoling, and others of the same faction, they spread their abominable errors, and run about the streets in enthusiastical raptures, crying, Repent and be baptized, pronouncing dismal woes against all those that would not embrace their tenets. About the year 1533 they broke out into an open insurrection, and seized the palace and magazines, and grew so formidable that it was very dangerous for those who were not of their persuasion to dwell in Munster; but at length he and his associates being subdued and taken, he was executed at Munster, had his flesh pulled off by two executioners with red- hot pincers for the space of an hour, and then run through with a sword. 351 s 'Mong these there was a Politician, &c.] This was the famous E. of S. who was endued with a particular faculty of undermining and subverting all sorts of government. 409 t and better than by Napier's Bones, &c.] The famous Lord Napier, of Scotland, the first inventor of logarithms, contrived also a set of square pieces, with numbers on them, made generally of ivory, (which perform arithmetical and geometrical calculations,) and are commonly called Napier's Bones. 421 u To match this Saint, &c.] The great colonel John Lilbourn, whose trial is so remarkable, and well known at this time. 475 w The Trojan Mare, &c.] After the Grecians had spent ten years in the siege of Troy, without the least prospect of success, they bethought of a stratagem, and made a wooden horse capable of containing a considerable number of armed men: this they filled with the choicest of their army, and then pretended to raise the siege; upon which the credulous Trojans made a breach in the walls of the city to bring in this fatal plunder; but when it was brought in, the inclosed heroes soon appeared, and surprizing the city, the rest entered in at the breach. 520 x (I mean Margaret's Fast) &c.] That Parliament used to have publick fasts kept in St. Margaret's church, Westminster, as is done to this present time. 605 y To hang like Mahomet, &c.] It is reported of Mahomet the great impostor, that having built a mosque, the roof whereof was of loadstone, and ordering his corpse, when he was dead, to be put into an iron coffin, and brought into that place, the loadstone soon attracted it near the top, where it still hangs in the air. No less fabulous is what the legend says of Ignatius Loyola, that his zeal and devotion transported him so, that at his prayers he has been seen to be raised from the ground for some considerable time together. 650 z As easy as Serpents, &c.] Naturalists report, that Snakes, Serpents, &c. cast their skins every year. 655 a As Barnacles turn Soland Geese, &c.] It is said that in the Islands of the Orcades, in Scotland, there are trees which bear those barnacles, which dropping off into the water, receive life, and become those birds called soland geese. 663 b So he that keeps the Gate of Hell, &c.] The poets feign the dog Cerberus, that is the porter of hell, to have three heads. 685 c The GIBELLINES, &c.] Two great factions in Italy, distinguished by those names, miserably distracted and wasted it about the year 1130. 841 d When three Saints Ears, &c.] Burton, Prynn, and Bastwick, three notorious ringleaders of the factious, just at the beginning of the late horrid rebellion. 894 e But Fisher's Folly, &c.] Fisher's Folly, was where Devonshire-Square now stands, and was a great place of consultation in those days. 907 f Cut out more Work, &c.] Plato's year, or the grand revolution of the intire machine of the world, was accounted 4000 years. 1200 g T' your great Croysado General, &c.] General Fairfax, who was soon laid aside after he had done some of their drudgery for them. 1241 h To pass for deep and learned Scholars, &c.] Two ridiculous scribblers, that were often pestering the world with nonsense. 1250 i Like Sir Pride, &c.] The one a brewer, the other a shoemaker, and both colonels in the rebels' army. 1505 k The beastly Rabble that came down, &c.] This is an accurate description of the mob's burning rumps upon the admission of the secluded Members, on contempt of the Rump- Parliament. 1534 l Be ready listed under DON] The hangman's name at that time was Don. 1550 m They've roasted COOK already and PRIDE in.] Cook acted as solicitor-general against King Charles the First at his trial; and afterwards received his just reward for the same. Pride, a colonel in the Parliament's army. 1564 n Their Founder was a blown up Soldier.] Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the society of the Jesuits, was a gentleman of Biscay, in Spain, and bred a soldier; was at Pampelune when it was besieged by the French in the year 1521, and was so very lame in both feet, by the damage he sustained there, that he was forced to keep his bed. 1585 o And from their Coptick Priests, Kircherus.] Athanasius Kircher, a Jesuit, hath wrote largely on the AEgyptian mystical learning. 1587 p For, as the AEgyptians us'd by Bees, &c.] The AEgyptians represented their kings, (many of whose names were Ptolemy) under the hieroglyphick of a bee, dispensing honey to the good and virtuous, and having a sting for the wicked and dissolute. PART III CANTO III THE ARGUMENT. ------------------------------------------------- The Knight and squire's prodigious Flight To quit th' inchanted Bow'r by Night. He plods to turn his amorous Suit T' a Plea in Law, and prosecute Repairs to Counsel, to advise 'Bout managing the Enterprise; But first resolves to try by Letter, And one more fair Address, to get her. ------------------------------------------------- WHO wou'd believe what strange bugbears Mankind creates itself of fears That spring like fern, that insect weed, Equivocally, without seed; And have no possible foundation, 5 But merely in th' imagination; And yet can do more dreadful feats Than hags, with all their imps and teats Make more bewitch and haunt themselves Than all their nurseries of elves? 10 For fear does things so like a witch, 'Tis hard t' unriddle which is which: Sets up Communities of senses, To chop and change intelligences; As Rosicrucian virtuosos 15 Can see with ears, and hear with noses; And when they neither see nor hear, Have more than both supply'd by fear That makes 'em in the dark see visions, And hag themselves with apparitions; 20 And when their eyes discover least, Discern the subtlest objects best Do things not contrary, alone, To th' course of nature, but its own; The courage of the bravest daunt, 25 And turn poltroons as valiant: For men as resolute appear With too much as too little fear And when they're out of hopes of flying, Will run away from death by dying; 30 Or turn again to stand it out, And those they fled, like lions, rout. This HUDIBRAS had prov'd too true, Who, by the furies left perdue, And haunted with detachments, sent 35 From Marshal Legion's regiment, Was by a fiend, as counterfeit, Reliev'd and rescu'd with a cheat; When nothing but himself, and fear, Was both the imp and conjurer; 40 As, by the rules o' th' virtuosi, It follows in due form of poesie. Disguis'd in all the masks of night, We left our champion on his flight, At blind man's buff, to grope his way, 45 In equal fear of night and day, Who took his dark and desp'rate course, He knew no better than his horse; And, by an unknown Devil led, (He knew as little whither,) fled. 50 He never was in greater need, Nor less capacity, of speed; Disabled, both in man and beast, To fly and run away his best; To keep the enemy, and fear, 55 From equal falling on his rear. And though with kicks and bangs he ply'd The further and the nearer side, (As seamen ride with all their force, And tug as if they row'd the horse, 60 And when the hackney sails most swift, Believe they lag, or run a-drift,) So, though he posted e'er so fast, His fear was greater than his haste: For fear, though fleeter than the wind, 65 Believes 'tis always left behind. But when the morn began t' appear, And shift t' another scene his fear, He found his new officious shade, That came so timely to his aid, 70 And forc'd him from the foe t' escape, Had turn'd itself to RALPHO's shape; So like in person, garb, and pitch, 'Twas hard t' interpret which was which. For RALPHO had no sooner told 75 The Lady all he had t' unfold, But she convey'd him out of sight, To entertain the approaching Knight; And, while he gave himself diversion, T' accommodate his beast and person, 80 And put his beard into a posture At best advantage to accost her, She order'd th' anti-masquerade (For his reception) aforesaid: But when the ceremony was done, 85 The lights put out, and furies gone, And HUDIBRAS, among the rest, Convey'd away, as RALPHO guess'd, The wretched caitiff, all alone, (As he believ'd) began to moan, 90 And tell his story to himself, The Knight mistook him for an elf; And did so still till he began To scruple at RALPH's Outward Man; And thought, because they oft agreed 95 T' appear in one another's stead, And act the Saint's and Devil's part With undistinguishable art, They might have done so now, perhaps, And put on one another's shapes 100 And therefore, to resolve the doubt, He star'd upon him, and cry'd out, What art? My 'Squire, or that bold Sprite That took his place and shape to-night? Some busy indepenent pug, 105 Retainer to his Synagogue? Alas! quoth he, I'm none of those, Your bosom friends, as you suppose; But RALPH himself, your trusty 'Squire, Wh' has dragg'd your Dunship out o' th' mire, 110 And from th' inchantments of a widow, Wh' had turn'd you int' a beast, have freed you; And, though a prisoner of war, Have brought you safe where you now are; Which you would gratefully repay 115 Your constant Presbyterian way. That's stranger (quoth the Knight) and stranger. Who gave thee notice of my danger? Quoth he, Th' infernal Conjurer Pursu'd and took me prisoner; 120 And knowing you were hereabout, Brought me along to find you out; Where I, in hugger-mugger hid, Have noted all they said or did: And though they lay to him the pageant, 125 I did not see him, nor his agent; Who play'd their sorceries out of sight, T' avoid a fiercer second fight. But didst thou see no Devils then? Not one (quoth he) but carnal men, 130 A little worse than fiends in hell, And that She-Devil Jezebel, That laugh'd and tee-he'd with derision, To see them take your deposition. What then (quoth HUDIBRAS) was he 135 That play'd the Dev'l to examine me? A rallying weaver in the town, That did it in a parson's gown; Whom all the parish take for gifted; But, for my part, I ne'er believ'd it: 140 In which you told them all your feats, Your conscientious frauds and cheats; Deny'd your whipping, and confest The naked truth of all the rest, More plainly than the Rev'rend Writer, 145 That to our Churches veil'd his Mitre; All which they took in black and white, And cudgell'd me to under-write. What made thee, when they all were gone, And none but thou and I alone, 150 To act the Devil, and forbear To rid me of my hellish fear? Quoth he, I knew your constant rate And frame of sp'rit too obstinate To be by me prevail'd upon 155 With any motives of my own; And therefore strove to counterfeit The Dev'l a-while, to nick your wit; The Devil, that is your constant crony, That only can prevail upon ye; 160 Else we might still have been disputing, And they with weighty drubs confuting. The Knight who now began to find Th' had left the enemy behind, And saw no farther harm remain, 165 But feeble weariness and pain; Perceiv'd, by losing of their way, Th' had gain'd th' advantage of the day; And, by declining of the road, They had, by chance, their rear made good; 170 He ventur'd to dismiss his fear, That parting's wont to rent and tear, And give the desperat'st attack To danger still behind its back. For having paus'd to recollect, 175 And on his past success reflect, T' examine and consider why, And whence, and how, they came to fly, And when no Devil had appear'd, What else, it cou'd be said, he fear'd; 180 It put him in so fierce a rage, He once resolv'd to re-engage; Toss'd like a foot-ball back again, With shame and vengeance, and disdain. Quoth he, it was thy cowardice 185 That made me from this leaguer rise And when I'd half reduc'd the place, To quit it infamously base Was better cover'd by the new Arriv'd detachment then I knew; 190 To slight my new acquests, and run Victoriously from battles won; And reck'ning all I gain'd or lost, To sell them cheaper than they cost; To make me put myself to flight, 195 And conqu'ring run away by night To drag me out, which th' haughty foe Durst never have presum'd to do To mount me in the dark, by force, Upon the bare ridge of my horse; 200 Expos'd in querpo to their rage, Without my arms and equipage; Lest, if they ventur'd to pursue, I might th' unequal fight renew; And, to preserve thy Outward Man, 205 Assum'd my place, and led the van. All this quoth RALPH, I did, 'tis true, Not to preserve my self, but you; You, who were damn'd to baser drubs Than wretches feel in powd'ring tubs. 210 To mount two-wheel'd carroches, worse Than managing a wooden-horse Dragg'd out through straiter holes by th' ears, Eras'd or coup'd for perjurers; Who, though th' attempt had prov'd in vain, 215 Had had no reason to complain: But since it prosper'd, 'tis unhandsome To blame the hand that paid our ransome, And rescu'd your obnoxious bones From unavoidable battoons. 220 The enemy was reinforc'd, And we disabled, and unhors'd, Disarm'd, unqualify'd for fight, And no way left but hasty flight, Which though as desp'rate in th' attempt, 225 Has giv'n you freedom to condemn't. But were our bones in fit condition To reinforce the expedition, 'Tis now unseasonable, and vain, To think of falling on again. 230 No martial project to surprize Can ever be attempted twice; Nor cast design serve afterwards, As gamesters tear their losing-cards, Beside, our bangs of man and beast 235 Are fit for nothing now but rest; And for a-while will not be able To rally, and prove serviceable; And therefore I, with reason, chose This stratagem t' amuse our foes; 240 To make an honourable retreat, And wave a total sure defeat; For those that fly may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain. Hence timely running's no mean part 245 Of conduct in the martial art; By which some glorious feats atchieve, As citizens by breaking thrive; And cannons conquer armies, while They seem to draw off and recoil; 250 Is held the gallantest course, and bravest To great exploits, as well as safest; That spares th' expence of time and pains, And dangerous beating out of brains; And in the end prevails as certain 255 As those that never trust to fortune; But make their fear do execution Beyond the stoutest resolution; As earthquakes kill without a blow, And, only trembling, overthrow, 260 If th' ancients crown'd their bravest men That only sav'd a citizen, What victory could e'er be won, If ev'ry one would save but one Or fight endanger'd to be lost, 265 Where all resolve to save the most? By this means, when a battle's won, The war's as far from being done; For those that save themselves, and fly, Go halves, at least, i' th' victory; 270 And sometimes, when the loss is small, And danger great, they challenge all; Print new additions to their feats, And emendations in Gazettes; And when, for furious haste to run, 275 They durst not stay to fire a gun, Have done't with bonfires, and at home Made squibs and crackers overcome; To set the rabble on a flame, And keep their governors from blame; 280 Disperse the news the pulpit tells, Confirm'd with fire-works and with bells; And though reduc'd to that extream, They have been forc'd to sing Te Deum; Yet, with religious blasphemy, 285 By flattering Heaven with a lie And for their beating giving thanks, Th' have rais'd recruits, and fill'd their banks; For those who run from th' enemy, Engage them equally to fly; 290 And when the fight becomes a chace, Those win the day that win the race And that which would not pass in fights, Has done the feat with easy flights; Recover'd many a desp'rate campaign 295 With Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Champaign; Restor'd the fainting high and mighty With brandy-wine and aqua-vitae; And made 'em stoutly overcome With bachrach, hoccamore, and mum; 300 Whom the uncontroul'd decrees of fate To victory necessitate; With which, although they run or burn They unavoidably return: Or else their sultan populaces 305 Still strangle all their routed Bassas. Quoth HUDIBRAS, I understand What fights thou mean'st at sea and land, And who those were that run away, And yet gave out th' had won the day; 310 Although the rabble sous'd them for't, O'er head and ears in mud and dirt. 'Tis true, our modern way of war Is grown more politick by far, But not so resolute, and bold, 315 Nor ty'd to honour, as the old. For now they laugh at giving battle, Unless it be to herds of cattle; Or fighting convoys of provision, The whole design o' the expedition: 320 And not with downright blows to rout The enemy, but eat them out: As fighting, in all beasts of prey, And eating, are perform'd one way, To give defiance to their teeth 325 And fight their stubborn guts to death; And those atchieve the high'st renown, That bring the others' stomachs down, There's now no fear of wounds, nor maiming; All dangers are reduc'd to famine; 330 And feats of arms, to plot, design, Surprize, and stratagem, and mine; But have no need nor use of courage, Unless it be for glory or forage: For if they fight, 'tis but by chance, 335 When one side vent'ring to advance, And come uncivilly too near, Are charg'd unmercifully i' th' rear; And forc'd with terrible resistance, To keep hereafter at a distance; 340 To pick out ground to incamp upon, Where store of largest rivers run, That serve, instead of peaceful barriers, To part th' engagements of their warriors; Where both from side to side may skip, 345 And only encounter at bo-peep: For men are found the stouter-hearted, The certainer th' are to be parted, And therefore post themselves in bogs, As th' ancient mice attack'd the frogs, 350 And made their mortal enemy, The water-rat, their strict ally. For 'tis not now, who's stout and bold, But who bears hunger best, and cold; And he's approv'd the most deserving, 355 Who longest can hold out at starving; And he that routs most pigs and cows, The formidablest man of prowess. So th' emperor CALIGULA, That triumph'd o'er the British Sea, 360 Took crabs and oysters prisoners, Lobsters, 'stead of cuirasiers, Engag'd his legions in fierce bustles With periwinkles, prawns, and muscles; And led his troops with furious gallops, 365 To charge whole regiments of scallops Not like their ancient way of war, To wait on his triumphal carr But when he went to dine or sup More bravely eat his captives up; 370 And left all war, by his example, Reduc'd to vict'ling of a camp well. Quoth RALPH, By all that you have said, And twice as much that I cou'd add, 'Tis plain you cannot now do worse, 375 Than take this out-of-fashion'd course; To hope, by stratagem, to woo her, Or waging battle to subdue her Though some have done it in romances, And bang'd them into amorous fancies; 380 As those who won the AMAZONS, By wanton drubbing of their bones; And stout Rinaldo gain'd his bride, By courting of her back and side. But since those times and feats are over, 385 They are not for a modern lover, When mistresses are too cross-grain'd By such addresses to be gain'd; And if they were, wou'd have it out With many another kind of bout. 390 Therefore I hold no course s' infeasible, As this of force to win the JEZEBEL; To storm her heart, by th' antick charms Of ladies errant, force of arms; But rather strive by law to win her, 395 And try the title you have in her. Your case is clear; you have her word, And me to witness the accord Besides two more of her retinue To testify what pass'd between you; 400 More probable, and like to hold, Than hand, or seal, or breaking gold; For which so many, that renounc'd Their plighted contracts, have been trounc'd And bills upon record been found, 405 That forc'd the ladies to compound; And that, unless I miss the matter, Is all the bus'ness you look after. Besides, encounters at the bar Are braver now than those in war, 410 In which the law does execution With less disorder and confusion Has more of honour in't, some hold Not like the new way, but the old When those the pen had drawn together, 415 Decided quarrels with the feather, And winged arrows kill'd as dead, And more than bullets now of lead. So all their combats now, as then, Are manag'd chiefly by the pen; 420 That does the feat with braver vigours, In words at length, as well as figures; Is judge of all the world performs In voluntary feats of arms And whatsoe'er's atchiev'd in fight, 425 Determines which is wrong or right: For whether you prevail, or lose All must be try'd there in the close; And therefore 'tis not wise to shun What you must trust to ere y' have done. 430 The law, that settles all you do, And marries where you did but woo; That makes the most perfidious lover A lady, that's as false, recover; And if it judge upon your side, 435 Will soon extend her for your bride; And put her person, goods, or lands, Or which you like best int' your hands. For law's the wisdom of all ages, And manag'd by the ablest sages; 440 Who, though their bus'ness at the bar Be but a kind of civil war, In which th' engage with fiercer dudgeons Than e'er the GRECIANS did and TROJANS, They never manage the contest 445 T' impair their public interest; Or by their controversies lessen The dignity of their profession: Not like us Brethren, who divide Our Commonwealth, the Cause, and Side; 450 And though w' are all as near of kindred As th' outward man is to the inward, We agree in nothing, but to wrangle About the slightest fingle-fangle; While lawyers have more sober sense 455 Than t' argue at their own expence, But make their best advantages Of others' quarrels, like the Swiss; And, out of foreign controversies, By aiding both sides, fill their purses; 460 But have no int'rest in the cause For which th' engage, and wage the laws; Nor further prospect than their pay, Whether they lose or win the day: And though th' abounded in all ages, 465 With sundry learned clerks and sages, Though all their business be dispute, Which way they canvass ev'ry suit, Th' have no disputes about their art, Nor in Polemicks controvert: 470 While all professions else are found With nothing but disputes t' abound Divines of all sorts, and physicians, Philosophers, mathematicians: The Galenist and Paracelsian 475 Condemn the way each other deals in: Anatomists dissect and mangle, To cut themselves out work to wrangle Astrologers dispute their dreams, That in their sleeps they talk of schemes: 480 And heralds stickle, who got who So many hundred years ago. But lawyers are too wise a nation T' expose their trade to disputation; Or make the busy rabble judges 485 Of all their secret piques and grudges; In which whoever wins the day, The whole profession's sure to pay. Beside, no mountebanks, nor cheats, Dare undertake to do their feats, 490 When in all other sciences They swarm, like insects, and increase. For what bigot durst ever draw, By inward light, a deed in law? Or could hold forth, by revelation, 495 An answer to a declaration? For those that meddle with their tools Will cut their fingers, if they're fools; And if you follow their advice, In bills, and answers, and replies, 500 They'll write a love-letter in chancery, Shall bring her upon oath to answer ye, And soon reduce her to b' your wife, Or make her weary of her life. The Knight, who us'd with tricks and shifts 505 To edify by RALPHO's Gifts, But in appearance cry'd him down, To make them better seem his own, (All Plagiaries' constant course Of sinking when they take a purse), 510 Resolv'd to follow his advice, But kept it from him by disguise; And, after stubborn contradiction, To counterfeit his own conviction, And by transition fall upon 515 The resolution as his own. Quoth he, This gambol thou advisest Is of all others the unwisest; For if I think by law to gain her, There's nothing sillier or vainer 520 'Tis but to hazard my pretence, Where nothing's certain, but th' expence; To act against myself, and traverse My suit and title, to her favours And if she shou'd (which Heav'n forbid) 525 O'erthrow me, as the fidler did, What aftercourse have I to take, 'Gainst losing all I have at stake? He that with injury is griev'd, And goes to law to be reliev'd, 530 Is sillier than a sottish chowse, Who, when thief has robb'd his house, Applies himself to cunning men, To help him to his goods agen; When all he can expect to gain, 535 Is but to squander more in vain; And yet I have no other way But is as difficult to play. For to reduce her by main force, Is now in vain; by fair means, worse; 540 But worst of all, to give her over, 'Till she's as desp'rate to recover For bad games are thrown up too soon, Until th' are never to be won. But since I have no other course, 545 But is as bad t' attempt, or worse, He that complies against his will, Is of his own opinion still; Which he may adhere to, yet disown, For reasons to himself best known: 550 But 'tis not to b' avoided now, For SIDROPHEL resolves to sue; Whom I must answer, or begin Inevitably first with him. For I've receiv'd advertisement, 555 By times enough, of his intent; And knowing he that first complains Th' advantage of the business gains; For Courts of Justice understand The plaintiff to be eldest hand; 560 Who what he pleases may aver; The other, nothing, till he swear; Is freely admitted to all grace, And lawful favour, by his place; And, for his bringing custom in, 565 Has all advantages to win. I, who resolve to oversee No lucky opportunity, Will go to council, to advise Which way t' encounter, or surprize, 570 And, after long consideration, Have found out one to fit th' occasion; Most apt for what I have to do, As counsellor and justice too. And truly so, no doubt, he was, 575 A lawyer fit for such a case. An old dull sot, who told the clock For many years at Bridewell-dock, At Westminster, and Hicks's-Hall, And Hiccius Doctius play'd in all; 580 Where, in all governments and times, H' had been both friend and foe to crimes, And us'd two equal ways of gaining By hind'ring justice or maintaining; To many a whore gave priviledge, 585 And whipp'd for want of quarteridge: Cart-loads of bawds to prison sent For b'ing behind a fortnight's rent And many a trusty pimp and croney To Puddle-dock for want of money; 590 Engag'd the constable to seize All those that would not break the peace, Nor give him back his own foul words, Though sometimes Commoners or Lords, And kept 'em prisoners of course, 595 For being sober at ill hours; That in the morning he might free Or bind 'em over for his fee; Made monsters fine, and puppet-plays, For leave to practise in their ways; 600 Farm'd out all cheats, and went a share With th' headborough and scavenger; And made the dirt i' th' streets compound For taking up the publick ground; The kennel, and the King's highway, 605 For being unmolested, pay; Let out the stocks, and whipping-post, And cage, to those that gave him most; Impos'd a tax on bakers' ears, And for false weights on chandelers; 610 Made victuallers and vintners fine For arbitrary ale and wine; But was a kind and constant friend To all that regularly offend; As residentiary bawds, 615 And brokers that receive stol'n goods; That cheat in lawful mysteries, And pay church duties and his fees; But was implacable, and awkward, To all that interlop'd and hawker'd. 620 To this brave man the Knight repairs For council in his law-affairs And found him mounted in his pew, With books and money plac'd for shew, Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, 625 And for his false opinion pay To whom the knight, with comely grace, Put off his hat to put his case Which he as proudly entertain'd As th' other courteously strain'd; 630 And, to assure him 't was not that He look'd for, bid him put on's hat. Quoth he, There is one SIDROPHEL, Whom I have cudgell'd -- Very well. And now he brags t' have beaten me. -- 635 Better and better still, quoth he. -- And vows to stick me to a wall Where-e'er he meets me -- Best of all. 'Tis true, the knave has taken's oath That I robb'd him -- Well done, in troth 640 When h' has confess'd he stole my cloak, And pick'd my fob, and what he took; Which was the cause that made me bang him, And take my goods again -- Marry hang him. Now whether I should before-hand, 645 Swear he robb'd me? -- I understand. Or bring my action of conversion And trover for my goods? -- Ah, Whoreson! Or if 'tis better to indite, And bring him to his trial? -- Right. 650 Prevent what he designs to do, And swear for th' State against him? -- True. Or whether he that is defendant In this case has the better end on't; Who, putting in a new cross-bill, 655 May traverse th' action? -- Better still. Then there's a Lady too -- Aye, marry That's easily prov'd accessary; A widow, who, by solemn vows Contracted to me for my spouse, 660 Combin'd with him to break her word, And has abetted all. -- Good Lord Suborn'd th' aforesaid SIDROPHEL To tamper with the Dev'l of Hell; Who put m' into a horrid fear, 665 Fear of my life. -- Make that appear. Made an assault with fiends and men Upon my body. -- Good agen, And kept me in a deadly fright, And false imprisonment, all night 670 Mean while they robb'd me, and my horse, And stole my saddle. -- Worse and worse. And made me mount upon the bare ridge, T' avoid a wretcheder miscarriage. Sir, quoth the Lawyer, not to flatter ye, 675 You have as good and fair a battery As heart can wish, and need not shame The proudest man alive to claim. For if th' have us'd you as you say; Marry, quoth I, God give you joy. 680 I wou'd it were my case, I'd give More than I'll say, or you'll believe. I would so trounce her, and her purse; I'd make her kneel for better or worse; For matrimony and hanging here 685 Both go by destiny so clear, That you as sure may pick and choose, As Cross, I win; and, Pile, you lose; And, if I durst, I would advance As much in ready maintenance, 690 As upon any case I've known, But we that practise dare not own. The law severely contrabands Our taking bus'ness off men's hands; 'Tis common barratry, that bears 695 Point-blank an action 'gainst our ears And crops them till there is not leather To stick a pin in left of either; For which some do the Summer-sault, And o'er the bar, like tumblers, vault, 700 But you may swear, at any rate, Things not in nature, for the State; For in all courts of justice here A witness is not said to swear, But make oath; that is, in plain terms, 705 To forge whatever he affirms. (I thank you, quoth the Knight, for that, Because 'tis to my purpose pat -- ) For Justice, though she's painted blind, Is to the weaker Side inclin'd, 710 Like Charity; else right and wrong Could never hold it out so long, And, like blind Fortune, with a slight Convey mens' interest and right From Stiles's pocket into Nokes's, 715 As easily as Hocus Pocus; Play fast and loose; make men obnoxious, And clear again, like Hiccius Doctius. Then whether you wou'd take her life, Or but recover her for your wife, 720 Or be content with what she has, And let all other matters pass, The bus'ness to the law's alone, The proof is all it looks upon: And you can want no witnesses 725 To swear to any thing you please, That hardly get their mere expences By th' labour of their consciences; Or letting out to hire their ears To affidavit customers, 730 At inconsiderable values, To serve for jury-men or tallies, Although retain'd in th' hardest matters, Of trustees and administrators. For that, quoth he, let me alone; 735 W' have store of such, and all our own; Bred up and tutor'd by our teachers, The ablest of conscience-stretchers. That's well, quoth he; but I should guess, By weighing all advantages, 740 Your surest way is first to pitch On BONGEY for a water-witch; And when y' have hang'd the conjurer, Y' have time enough to deal with her. In th' int'rim, spare for no trepans 745 To draw her neck into the bans Ply her with love-letters and billets, And bait 'em well, for quirks and quillets With trains t' inveigle, and surprize, Her heedless answers and replies; 750 And if she miss the mouse-trap lines, They'll serve for other by-designs; And make an artist understand To copy out her seal or hand; Or find void places in the paper 755 To steal in something to intrap her Till, with her worldly goods and body, Spight of her heart, she has endow'd ye, Retain all sorts of witnesses, That ply i' th' Temple under trees; 760 Or walk the round, with knights o' th' posts, About the cross-legg'd knights, their hosts; Or wait for customers between The pillars-rows in Lincoln's-Inn Where vouchers, forgers, common-bail, 765 And affidavit-men, ne'er fail T' expose to sale all sorts of oaths, According to their ears and cloaths, Their only necessary tools, Besides the Gospel and their souls; 770 And when y' are furnish'd with all purveys, I shall be ready at your service. I would not give, quoth HUDIBRAS, A straw to understand a case, Without the admirable skill 775 To wind and manage it at will; To vere, and tack, and steer a cause Against the weather-gage of laws; And ring the changes upon cases As plain as noses upon faces, 780 As you have well instructed me, For which you've earn'd (here 'tis) your fee. I long to practise your advice, And try the subtle artifice; To bait a letter, as you bid; 785 As not long after, thus he did For having pump'd up all his wit, And humm'd upon it, thus he writ. NOTES TO PART III CANTO III. 8 q Than Hags with all their Imps and Teats.] Alluding to the vulgar opinion, that witches have their imps, or familiar spirits, that are employed in their diabolical practices, and suck private teats they have about them. 15 r As Rosi-crucian Virtuosos, &c.] The Rosicrusians were a sect that appeared in Germany in the beginning of the XVIIth age. They are also called the Enlightened, Immortal, and Invisible. They are a very enthusiastical sort of men, and hold many wild and extravagant opinions. 36 s From Marshal Legion's Regiment.] He used to preach, as if they might expect legions to drop down from heaven, for the propagation of the good Old Cause. 145 t More plainly than the Reverend Writer, &c.] A most Reverend Prelate, A. B. of Y. who sided with the disaffected party. 261 u If the Ancients crown'd their bravest Men, &c.] The Romans highly honoured, and nobly rewarded, those persons that were instrumental in the preservation of the lives of their citizens, either in battle or otherwise 305 w Or else their Sultan Populaces, &c.] The Author compares the arbitrary actings of the ungovernable mob to the Sultan or Grand Signior, who very seldom fails to sacrifice any of his chief commanders, called Bassas, if they prove unsuccessful in battle. 350 x As the ancient Mice attack'd the Frogs.) Homer wrote a poem of the War between the Mice and the Frogs. 383 y And stout Rinaldo gain'd his Bride, &c.] A story in Tasso, an Italian Poet, of a hero that gained his mistress by conquering her party. 577 z An old dull Sot, who told the Clock, &c.] Prideux, a justice of peace, a very pragmatical busy person in those times, and a mercenary and cruel magistrate, infamous for the following methods of getting of money among many others. 589 a And many a trusty Pimp and Croney, &c.] There was a gaol for puny offenders. 599 b Made Monsters fine, and Puppet-plays, &c.] He extorted money from those that kept shows. 715 c From Stiles's Pocket into Nokes's, &c.] John a Nokes, and John a Stiles, are two fictitious names made use of in stating cases of law only. 742 d On BONGEY for a Water Witch.] Bongey was a Franciscan, and lived towards the end of the thirteenth century, a doctor of divinity in Oxford; and a particular acquaintance of Friar Bacon's. In that ignorant age, every thing that seemed extraordinary was reputed magick; and so both Bacon and Bongey went under the imputation of studying the black-art. Bongey also, publishing a treatise of Natural Magick, confirmed some well-meaning credulous people in this opinion; but it was altogether groundless; for Bongey was chosen provincial of his order, being a person of most excellent parts and piety. AN HEROICAL EPISTLE OF HUDIBRAS TO HIS LADY. I who was once as great as CAESAR, Am now reduc'd to NEBUCHADNEZZAR; And from as fam'd a conqueror As ever took degree in war, Or did his exercise in battle, 5 By you turn'd out to grass with cattle: For since I am deny'd access To all my earthly happiness Am fallen from the paradise Of your good graces, and fair eyes; 10 Lost to the world, and you, I'm sent To everlasting banishment; Where all the hopes I had t' have won Your heart, b'ing dash'd, will break my own. Yet if you were not so severe 15 To pass your doom before you hear, You'd find, upon my just defence, How much y' have wrong'd my innocence. That once I made a vow to you, Which yet is unperformed, 'tis true: 20 But not because it is unpaid, 'Tis violated, though delay'd; Or, if it were, it is no fau't, So heinous as you'd have it thought; To undergo the loss of ears, 25 Like vulgar hackney perjurers For there's a diff'rence in the case, Between the noble and the base, Who always are observ'd t' have done't Upon as different an account: 30 The one for great and weighty cause, To salve in honour ugly flaws; For none are like to do it sooner Than those who are nicest of their honour: The other, for base gain and pay, 35 Forswear, and perjure by the day; And make th' exposing and retailing Their souls and consciences a calling. It is no scandal, nor aspersion, Upon a great and noble person, 40 To say he nat'rally abhorr'd Th' old-fashion'd trick, To keep his word; Though 'tis perfidiousness and shame In meaner men to do the same: For to be able to forget, 45 Is found more useful to the great, Than gout, or deafness, or bad eyes, To make 'em pass for wond'rous wise. But though the law on perjurers Inflicts the forfeiture of ears, 50 It is not just that does exempt The guilty, and punish th' innocent; To make the ears repair the wrong Committed by th' ungovern'd tongue; And when one member is forsworn, 55 Another to be cropt or torn. And if you shou'd, as you design, By course of law, recover mine, You're like, if you consider right, To gain but little honour by't. 60 For he that for his lady's sake Lays down his life or limbs at stake, Does not so much deserve her favour, As he that pawns his soul to have her, This y' have acknowledg'd I have done, 65 Although you now disdain to own; But sentence what you rather ought T' esteem good service than a fau't. Besides, oaths are not bound to bear That literal sense the words infer, 70 But, by the practice of the age, Are to be judg'd how far th' engage; And, where the sense by custom's checkt, Are found void, and of none effect. For no man takes or keeps a vow 75 But just as he sees others do; Nor are th' oblig'd to be so brittle, As not to yield and bow a little: For as best-temper'd blades are found, Before they break, to bend quite round, 80 So truest oaths are still most tough, And though they bow, are breaking proof. Then wherefore should they not b' allow'd In love a greater latitude? For as the law of arms approves 85 All ways to conquest, so should love's; And not be ty'd to true or false, But make that justest that prevails For how can that which is above All empire, high and mighty love, 90 Submit its great prerogative To any other power alive? Shall love, that to no crown gives place, Become the subject of a case? The fundamental law of nature, 95 Be over-rul'd by those made after? Commit the censure of its cause To any but its own great laws? Love, that's the world's preservative, 100 That keeps all souls of things alive; Controuls the mighty pow'r of fate, And gives mankind a longer date; The life of nature, that restores As fast as time and death devours; To whose free-gift the world does owe, 105 Not only earth, but heaven too; For love's the only trade that's driven, The interest of state in heav'n, Which nothing but the soul of man Is capable to entertain. 110 For what can earth produce, but love To represent the joys above? Or who but lovers can converse, Like angels, by the eye-discourse? Address and compliment by vision; 115 Make love and court by intuition? And burn in amorous flames as fierce As those celestial ministers? Then how can any thing offend, In order to so great an end? 120 Or heav'n itself a sin resent, That for its own supply was meant? That merits, in a kind mistake, A pardon for th' offence's sake. Or if it did not, but the cause 125 Were left to th' injury at laws, What tyranny can disapprove There should be equity in love; For laws that are inanimate, And feel no sense of love or hate, 130 That have no passion of their own, Nor pity to be wrought upon, Are only proper to inflict Revenge on criminals as strict But to have power to forgive, 135 Is empire and prerogative; And 'tis in crowns a nobler gem To grant a pardon than condemn. Then since so few do what they ought, 'Tis great t' indulge a well-meant fau't. 140 For why should he who made address, All humble ways, without success, And met with nothing, in return, But insolence, affronts, and scorn, Not strive by wit to countermine, 145 And bravely carry his design? He who was us'd so unlike a soldier, Blown up with philters of love-powder? And after letting blood, and purging, Condemn'd to voluntary scourging; 150 Alarm'd with many a horrid fright, And claw'd by goblins in the night; Insulted on, revil'd, and jeer'd, With rude invasion of his beard; And when your sex was foully scandal'd, 155 As foully by the rabble handled; Attack'd by despicable foes, And drub'd with mean and vulgar blows; And, after all, to be debarr'd So much as standing on his guard; 160 When horses, being spurr'd and prick'd, Have leave to kick for being kick'd? Or why should you, whose mother-wits Are furnish'd with all perquisites, That with your breeding-teeth begin, 165 And nursing babies, that lie in, B' allow'd to put all tricks upon Our cully sex, and we use none? We, who have nothing but frail vows Against your stratagems t' oppose; 170 Or oaths more feeble than your own, By which we are no less put down? You wound, like Parthians, while you fly, And kill with a retreating eye: Retire the more, the more we press 175 To draw us into ambushes. As pirates all false colours wear T' intrap th' unwary mariner, So women, to surprise us, spread The borrow'd flags of white and red; 180 Display 'em thicker on their cheeks Than their old grandmothers, the Picts; And raise more devils with their looks, Than conjurer's less subtle books; Lay trains of amorous intrigues, 185 In tow'rs, and curls, and perriwigs, With greater art and cunning rear'd, Than PHILIP NYE's thanksgiving beard, Prepost'rously t' entice, and gain Those to adore 'em they disdain; 190 And only draw 'em in, to clog With idle names a catalogue. A lover is, the more he's brave, T' his mistress but the more a slave; And whatsoever she commands, 195 Becomes a favour from her hands; Which he's obliged t' obey, and must, Whether it be unjust or just. Then when he is compell'd by her T' adventures he would else forbear, 200 Who with his honour can withstand, Since force is greater than command? And when necessity's obey'd, Nothing can be unjust or bad And therefore when the mighty pow'rs 205 Of love, our great ally and yours, Join'd forces not to be withstood By frail enamour'd flesh and blood, All I have done, unjust or ill, Was in obedience to your will; 210 And all the blame that can be due, Falls to your cruelty and you. Nor are those scandals I confest, Against my will and interest, More than is daily done of course 215 By all men, when they're under force; When some upon the rack confess What th' hangman and their prompters please; But are no sooner out of pain, Than they deny it all again. 220 But when the Devil turns confessor, Truth is a crime he takes no pleasure To hear, or pardon, like the founder Of liars, whom they all claim under And therefore, when I told him none, 225 I think it was the wiser done. Nor am I without precedent, The first that on th' adventure went All mankind ever did of course, And daily dues the same, or worse. 230 For what romance can show a lover, That had a lady to recover, And did not steer a nearer course, To fall a-board on his amours? And what at first was held a crime, 235 Has turn'd to honourable in time. To what a height did infant ROME, By ravishing of women, come When men upon their spouses seiz'd, And freely marry'd where they pleas'd, 240 They ne'er forswore themselves, nor ly'd. Nor, in the mind they were in, dy'd; Nor took the pains t' address and sue, Nor play'd the masquerade to woo; Disdain'd to stay for friends' consents; 245 Nor juggled about settlements: Did need no license, nor no priest, Nor friends, nor kindred, to assist; Nor lawyers, to join land and money In th' holy state of matrimony, 250 Before they settled hands and hearts, Till alimony or death them parts: Nor wou'd endure to stay until Th' had got the very bride's good will; But took a wise and shorter course 255 To win the ladies, downright force. And justly made 'em prisoners then, As they have often since, us men, With acting plays, and dancing jigs, The luckiest of all love's intrigues; 260 And when they had them at their pleasure, Then talk'd of love and flames at leisure; For after matrimony's over, He that holds out but half a lover, Deserves for ev'ry minute more 265 Than half a year of love before; For which the dames in contemplation Of that best way of application, Prov'd nobler wives than e'er was known, By suit or treaty to be won; 270 And such as all posterity Cou'd never equal nor come nigh. For women first were made for men, Not men for them. -- It follows, then, That men have right to ev'ry one, 275 And they no freedom of their own And therefore men have pow'r to chuse, But they no charter to refuse. Hence 'tis apparent, that what course Soe'er we take to your amours, 280 Though by the indirectest way, 'Tis no injustice, nor foul play; And that you ought to take that course, As we take you, for better or worse; And gratefully submit to those 285 Who you, before another, chose. For why should ev'ry savage beast Exceed his great lord's interest? Have freer pow'r than he in grace, And nature, o'er the creature has? 290 Because the laws he since has made Have cut off all the pow'r he had; Retrench'd the absolute dominion That nature gave him over women; When all his pow'r will not extend 295 One law of nature to suspend; And but to offer to repeal The smallest clause, is to rebel. This, if men rightly understood Their privilege, they wou'd make good; 300 And not, like sots, permit their wives T' encroach on their prerogatives; For which sin they deserve to be Kept, as they are, in slavery: And this some precious Gifted Teachers, 305 Unrev'rently reputed leachers, And disobey'd in making love, Have vow'd to all the world to prove, And make ye suffer, as you ought, For that uncharitable fau't. 310 But I forget myself, and rove Beyond th' instructions of my love. Forgive me (Fair) and only blame Th' extravagancy of my flame, Since 'tis too much at once to show 315 Excess of love and temper too. All I have said that's bad and true, Was never meant to aim at you, Who have so sov'reign a controul O'er that poor slave of yours, my soul, 320 That, rather than to forfeit you, Has ventur'd loss of heaven too: Both with an equal pow'r possest, To render all that serve you blest: But none like him, who's destin'd either 325 To have, or lose you, both together. And if you'll but this fault release (For so it must be, since you please) I'll pay down all that vow, and more, Which you commanded, and I swore, 330 And expiate upon my skin Th' arrears in full of all my sin. For 'tis but just that I should pay Th' accruing penance for delay, Which shall be done, until it move 335 Your equal pity and your love. The Knight, perusing this Epistle, Believ'd h' had brought her to his whistle; And read it like a jocund lover, With great applause t' himself, twice over; 340 Subscrib'd his name, but at a fit And humble distance to his wit; And dated it with wond'rous art, Giv'n from the bottom of his heart; Then seal'd it with his Coat of Love, 345 A smoaking faggot -- and above, Upon a scroll -- I burn, and weep; And near it -- For her Ladyship; Of all her sex most excellent, These to her gentle hands present. 350 Then gave it to his faithful Squire, With lessons how t' observe and eye her. She first consider'd which was better, To send it back, or burn the letter. But guessing that it might import, 355 Though nothing else, at least her sport, She open'd it, and read it out, With many a smile and leering flout: Resolv'd to answer it in kind, And thus perform'd what she design'd. 360 NOTES ON HUDIBRAS's EPISTLE TO HIS LADY. 113 e Or who but Lovers can converse, &c.] Metaphysicians are of opinion, that angels and souls departed, being divested of all gross matter, understand each other's sentiments by intuition, and consequently maintain a sort of conversation without the organs of speech. 121 f Or Heav'n itself a Sin resent, &c.] In regard children are capable of being inhabitants of Heaven, therefore it should not resent it as a crime to supply store of inhabitants for it. 173 g You wound like Parthians while you fly, &c.] Parthians are the inhabitants of a province in Persia: They were excellent horsemen, and very exquisite at their bows; and it is reported of them, that they generally slew more on their retreat than they did in the engagement. 188 h Than Philip Nye's Thanksgiving Beard ] One of the Assembly of Divines, very remarkable for the singularity of his beard. 237 i To what a Height did Infant Rome, &c.] When Romulus had built Rome, he made it an asylum, or place of refuge, for all malefactors, and others obnoxious to the laws to retire to; by which means it soon came to be very populous; but when he began to consider, that, without propagation, it would soon be destitute of inhabitants, he invented several fine shows, and invited the young Sabine women, then neighbours to them; and when they had them secure, they ravished them; from whence proceeded so numerous an offspring. 252 k Till Alimony or Death them parts.] Alimony is an allowance that the law gives the woman for her separate maintenance upon living from her husband. That and death are reckoned the only separations in a married state. THE LADY'S ANSWER TO THE KNIGHT. THAT you're a beast, and turn'd to grass, Is no strange news, nor ever was; At least to me, who once you know, Did from the pound replevin you, When both your sword and spurs were won 5 In combat by an Amazon. That sword, that did (like Fate) determine Th' inevitable death of vermine, And never dealt its furious blows, But cut the throats of pigs and cows, 10 By TRULLA was, in single fight, Disarm'd and wrested from its knight; Your heels degraded of your spurs, And in the stocks close prisoners; Where still they'd lain, in base restraint, 15 If I, in pity of your complaint, Had not on honourable conditions, Releast 'em from the worst of prisons And what return that favour met You cannot (though you wou'd) forget; 20 When, being free, you strove t' evade The oaths you had in prison made; Forswore yourself; and first deny'd it, But after own'd and justify'd it And when y' had falsely broke one vow, 25 Absolv'd yourself by breaking two. For while you sneakingly submit, And beg for pardon at our feet, Discourag'd by your guilty fears, To hope for quarter for your ears, 30 And doubting 'twas in vain to sue, You claim us boldly as your due; Declare that treachery and force, To deal with us, is th' only course; We have no title nor pretence 35 To body, soul, or conscience; But ought to fall to that man's share That claims us for his proper ware. These are the motives which, t' induce Or fright us into love, you use. 40 A pretty new way of gallanting, Between soliciting and ranting; Like sturdy beggars, that intreat For charity at once, and threat. But since you undertake to prove 45 Your own propriety in love, As if we were but lawful prize In war between two enemies, Or forfeitures, which ev'ry lover, That wou'd but sue for, might recover, 50 It is not hard to understand The myst'ry of this bold demand, That cannot at our persons aim, But something capable of claim. 'Tis not those paultry counterfeit 55 French stones, which in our eyes you set, But our right diamonds, that inspire And set your am'rous hearts on fire. Nor can those false St. Martin's beads, Which on our lips you lay for reds, 60 And make us wear, like Indian dames, Add fuel to your scorching flames; But those true rubies of the rock, Which in our cabinets we lock. 'Tis not those orient pearls our teeth, 65 That you are so transported with; But those we wear about our necks, Produce those amorous effects. Nor is't those threads of gold, our hair, The periwigs you make us wear, 70 But those bright guineas in our chests, That light the wild fire in your breasts. These love-tricks I've been vers'd in so, That all their sly intrigues I know, And can unriddle, by their tones, 75 Their mystick cabals and jargones; Can tell what passions, by their sounds, Pine for the beauties of my grounds; What raptures fond and amorous O' th' charms and graces of my house; 80 What extasy and scorching flame, Burns for my money in my name; What from th' unnatural desire To beasts and cattle takes its fire; What tender sigh, and trickling tear, 85 Longs for a thousand pounds a year; And languishing transports are fond Of statute, mortgage, bill, and bond. These are th' attracts which most men fall Inamour'd, at first sight, withal 90 To these th' address with serenades, And court with balls and masquerades; And yet, for all the yearning pain Y' have suffer'd for their loves in vain, I fear they'll prove so nice and coy 95 To have, and t' hold and to enjoy That all your oaths and labour lost, They'll ne'er turn ladies of the post. This is not meant to disapprove Your judgment in your choice of love; 100 Which is so wise, the greatest part Of mankind study 't as an art; For love shou'd, like a deodand, Still fall to th' owner of the land; And where there's substance for its ground, 105 Cannot but be more firm and sound Than that which has the slightest basis Of airy virtue, wit, and graces; Which is of such thin subtlety, It steals and creeps in at the eye, 110 And, as it can't endure to stay, Steals out again as nice a way. But love, that its extraction owns From solid gold and precious stones Must, like its shining parents, prove 115 As solid and as glorious love. Hence 'tis you have no way t'express Our charms and graces but by these: For what are lips, and eyes, and teeth, Which beauty invades and conquers with, 120 But rubies, pearls, and diamonds, With which a philter-love commands? This is the way all parents prove, In managing their childrens' love; That force 'em t' intermarry and wed, 125 As if th' were bur'ing of the dead; Cast earth to earth, as in the grave, To join in wedlock all they have: And when the settlement's in force, Take all the rest for better or worse; 130 For money has a power above The stars and fate to manage love; Whose arrows, learned poets hold, That never miss, are tipp'd with gold. And though some say, the parents' claims 135 To make love in their childrens' names, Who many times at once provide The nurse, the husband, and the bride Feel darts and charms, attracts and flames, And woo and contract in their names; 140 And as they christen, use to marry 'em, And, like their gossips, answer for 'em; Is not to give in matrimony, But sell and prostitute for money; 'Tis better than their own betrothing, 145 Who often do't for worse than nothing; And when th' are at their own dispose, With greater disadvantage choose. All this is right; but for the course You take to do't, by fraud or force, 150 'Tis so ridiculous, as soon As told, 'tis never to be done; No more than setters can betray, That tell what tricks they are to play. Marriage, at best, is but a vow, 155 Which all men either break or bow: Then what will those forbear to do, Who perjure when they do but woo? Such as before-hand swear and lie For earnest to their treachery; 160 And, rather than a crime confess, With greater strive to make it less; Like thieves, who, after sentence past, Maintain their innocence to the last; And when their crimes were made appear 165 As plain as witnesses can swear, Yet, when the wretches come to die, Will take upon their death a lie, Nor are the virtues you confest T' your ghostly father, as you guest, 170 So slight as to be justify'd By being as shamefully deny'd, As if you thought your word would pass Point-blank on both sides of a case; Or credit were not to be lost 175 B' a brave Knight-Errant of the Post, That eats perfidiously his word, And swears his ears through a two inch board: Can own the same thing, and disown, And perjure booty, Pro and Con: 180 Can make the Gospel serve his turn, And help him out, to be forsworn; When 'tis laid hands upon, and kist, To be betray'd and sold like Christ. These are the virtues in whose name 185 A right to all the world you claim, And boldly challenge a dominion, In grace and nature, o'er all women; Of whom no less will satisfy Than all the sex your tyranny, 190 Although you'll find it a hard province, With all your crafty frauds and covins, To govern such a num'rous crew, Who, one by one, now govern you: For if you all were SOLOMONS, 195 And wise and great as he was once, You'll find they're able to subdue (As they did him) and baffle you. And if you are impos'd upon 'Tis by your own temptation done, 200 That with your ignorance invite; And teach us how to use the slight. For when we find y' are still more taken With false attracts of our own making; Swear that's a rose, and that a stone, 205 Like sots, to us that laid it on, And what we did but slightly prime, Most ignorantly daub in rhime; You force us, in our own defences, To copy beams and influences; 210 To lay perfections on the graces, And draw attracts upon our faces; And, in compliance to your wit, Your own false jewels counterfeit. For, by the practice of those arts 215 We gain a greater share of hearts; And those deserve in reason most That greatest pains and study cost; For great perfections are, like heaven, Too rich a present to be given. 220 Nor are these master-strokes of beauty To be perform'd without hard duty, Which, when they're nobly done and well, The simple natural excell. How fair and sweet the planted rose 225 Beyond the wild in hedges grows! For without art the noblest seeds Of flow'rs degen'rate into weeds. How dull and rugged, e're 'tis ground And polish'd, looks a diamond! 230 Though Paradise were e'er so fair, It was not kept so without care. The whole world, without art and dress, Would be but one great wilderness; And mankind but a savage herd, 235 For all that nature has conferr'd. This does but rough-hew, and design; Leaves art to polish and refine. Though women first were made for men, Yet men were made for them agen; 240 For when (outwitted by his wife) Man first turn'd tenant but for life, If women had not interven'd, How soon had mankind had an end! And that it is in being yet, 245 To us alone you are in debt. And where's your liberty of choice, And our unnatural No Voice? Since all the privilege you boast, And falsly usurp'd, or vainly lost, 250 Is now our right; to whose creation You owe your happy restoration: And if we had not weighty cause To not appear, in making laws, We could, in spite of all your tricks, 255 And shallow, formal politicks, Force you our managements t' obey, As we to yours (in shew) give way. Hence 'tis that, while you vainly strive T' advance your high prerogative, 260 You basely, after all your braves, Submit, and own yourselves our slaves; And 'cause we do not make it known, Nor publickly our int'rest own, Like sots, suppose we have no shares 265 In ord'ring you and your affairs; When all your empire and command You have from us at second hand As if a pilot, that appears To sit still only while he steers, 270 And does not make a noise and stir Like ev'ry common mariner, Knew nothing of the card, nor star, And did not guide the man of war; Nor we, because we don't appear 275 In councils, do not govern there; While, like the mighty PRESTER JOHN, Whose person none dares look upon, But is preserv'd in close disguise, From being made cheap to vulgar eyes, 280 W' enjoy as large a pow'r unseen, To govern him, as he does men; And in the right of our Pope JOAN, Make Emp'rors at our feet fall down; Or JOAN DE PUCEL'S braver name, 285 Our right to arms and conduct claim; Who, though a Spinster, yet was able To serve FRANCE for a Grand Constable. We make and execute all laws; Can judge the judges and the cause; 290 Prescribe all rules of right or wrong To th' long robe, and the longer tongue; 'Gainst which the world has no defence; But our more pow'rful eloquence. We manage things of greatest weight 295 In all the world's affairs of state Are ministers of war and peace, That sway all nations how we please. We rule all churches and their flocks, Heretical and orthodox; 300 And are the heavenly vehicles O' th' spirits in all conventicles. By us is all commerce and trade Improv'd, and manag'd, and decay'd; For nothing can go off so well, 305 Nor bears that price, as what we sell. We rule in ev'ry publique meeting, And make men do what we judge fitting; Are magistrates in all great towns, Where men do nothing but wear gowns. 310 We make the man of war strike sail, And to our braver conduct veil, And, when h' has chac'd his enemies, Submit to us upon his knees. Is there an officer of state 315 Untimely rais'd, or magistrate, That's haughty and imperious? He's but a journeyman to us. That as he gives us cause to do't, Can keep him in, or turn him out. 320 We are your guardians, that increase Or waste your fortunes how we please; And, as you humour us, can deal In all your matters, ill or well. 'Tis we that can dispose alone, 325 Whether your heirs shall be your own, To whose integrity you must, In spight of all your caution, trust; And, 'less you fly beyond the seas, Can fit you with what heirs we please; 330 And force you t' own 'em, though begotten By French Valets or Irish Footmen. Nor can the vigorousest course Prevail, unless to make us worse; Who still, the harsher we are us'd, 335 Are further off from b'ing reduc'd; And scorn t' abate, for any ills, The least punctilios of our wills. Force does but whet our wits t' apply Arts, born with us, for remedy; 340 Which all your politicks, as yet, Have ne'er been able to defeat: For when y' have try'd all sorts of ways, What fools d' we make of you in plays! While all the favours we afford, 345 Are but to girt you with the sword, To fight our battles in our steads, And have your brains beat out o' your heads; Encounter, in despite of nature, And fight at once, with fire and water, 350 With pirates, rocks, and storms, and seas, Our pride and vanity t' appease; Kill one another, and cut throats, For our good graces, and best thoughts; To do your exercise for honour, 355 And have your brains beat out the sooner; Or crack'd, as learnedly, upon Things that are never to be known; And still appear the more industrious, The more your projects are prepost'rous; 360 To square the circle of the arts, And run stark mad to shew your parts; Expound the oracle of laws, And turn them which way we see cause Be our solicitors and agents, 365 And stand for us in all engagements. And these are all the mighty pow'rs You vainly boast to cry down ours; And what in real value's wanting, Supply with vapouring and ranting; 370 Because yourselves are terrify'd, And stoop to one another's pride, Believe we have as little wit To be out-hector'd, and submit; By your example, lose that right 375 In treaties which we gain'd in fight; And, terrify'd into an awe, Pass on ourselves a Salique law: Or, as some nations use, give place, And truckle to your mighty race; 380 Let men usurp th' unjust dominion, As if they were the better women. NOTES ON THE LADY's ANSWER TO THE KNIGHT. 133 l Whose Arrows learned Poets hold, &c.] The poets feign Cupid to have two sorts of arrows; the one tipped with gold, and the other with lead. The golden always inspire and inflame love in the persons he wounds with them: but, on the contrary, the leaden create the utmost aversion and hatred. With the first of these he shot Apollo, and with the other Daphne, according to Ovid. 277 m While, like the mighty Prester John, &c.] Prester John, an absolute prince, emperor of Abyssinia or Ethiopia. One of them is reported to have had seventy kings for his vassals, and so superb and arrogant, that none durst look upon him without his permission. 285 Or Joan de Pucel's braver Name.] Joan of Arc, called also the Pucelle, or Maid of Orleans. She was born at the town of Damremi, on the Meuse, daughter of James de Arc, and Isabella Romee; and was bred, up a shepherdess in the country. At the age of eighteen or twenty she pretended to an express commission from God to go to the relief of Orleans, then besieged by the English, and defended by John Compte de Dennis, and almost reduced to the last extremity. She went to the coronation of Charles the Seventh, when he was almost ruined. She knew that prince in the midst of his nobles; though meanly habited. The doctors of divinity, and members of parliament, openly declared that there was some thing supernatural in her conduct. She sent for a sword, which lay in the tomb of a knight, which was behind the great altar of the church of St. Katharine de Forbois, upon the blade of which the cross and flower-de-luces were engraven, which put the king in a very great surprise, in regard none besides himself knew of it. Upon this he sent her with the command of some troops, with which she relieved Orleans, and drove the English from it, defeated Talbot at the battle of Pattai, and recovered Champagne. At last she was unfortunately taken prisoner in a sally at Champagne in 1430, and tried for a witch or sorceress, condemned, and burnt in Rouen market-place in May 1430. 378 o Pass on ourselves a Salique Law.] The Salique Law is a law in France, whereby it is enacted, that no female shall inherit that crown. GLOSSARY Advowtry: Adultery Animalia: Animals (L.) Arsie-versie: Upside-down Aruspicy: Prophesying, fortune-telling Bachrach: Wine from Bacharach, in Germany Bavin: A bundle of firewood Boutefeu: Arsonist or (literal or metaphorical) firebrand Cacodaemon: An evil Spirit Caldes'd: Cheated Calendae: The 1st or 2nd of the month Calleche: A carriage with two wheels and a folding hood Camelion: A giraffe Camisado: An attack by night, during which the attackers wore shirts over their armour so they could recognise one another Cane & Angue pejus: Worse than a dog or a snake (L.) Caperdewsie: The stocks Capoch'd: Pulled off the hoods Caprich: A caprice Carbonading: Thrashing, beating Carroch: A stately or luxurious carriage Catasta: The stocks Cawdie: A military cadet Cawdle: Soup or gruel Ceruse: White lead used as a cosmetic Champaign: Champagne wine Champain: Countryside Chous'd, choust, chows'd: Cheated Chowse: A cheat's victim Classis: The elders and pastors of all the Presbyterian congregations in a district Coincidere: To come together (L.) Congees: Bows, curtseys Conster: Construe, explain Conventicle: Secret or illegal religious meetings Covins: Conspiracies Cucking-stool: A stool to which a malefactor (often an unfaithful wife) was tied, to be exposed to public ridicule, or ducked in a pond or river. Curship: The title of being a cur -- pun on "worship" Curule: An ivory chair used as a mayor's throne Deletory: That which wipes out or destroys Deodand: In English law an article which had caused a man's death was ordered by the court to be a forfeited as a deodand (Ad Deo dandum - to be given to God). Before the reformation it or its value was given to the Church; afterwards to the local landowner. Dewtry: A stupefying drink made from the Indian thorn-apple fruit. Dialectico: A philosophical point of argument Dictum factum: No sooner said than done (L.) Disparo: To separate (L.) Donzel: A young page or squire Drazel: A slut Ducatoon: An Italian silver coin, worth about 6 shillings. Ejusdem generis: Of the same kind (L.) Enucleate: To explain the meaning of Ex parte: On behalf of (L.) Exaun: A religious establishment not under the authority of the local bishop Fadging: Fitting Feme-covert: A woman under the protection of a husband ( a legal term) Ferk: Beat, whip Festina lente: Make haste slowly (L.) Fingle-fangle: A whimsical or fantastic idea Fother: A cart-load Fulhams: Loaded dice Ganzas: The birds which the hero of a popular romance harnessed to take him to the moon Genethliack: A caster of horoscopes Geomancy: Divination by interpreting the patterns of lines drawn at random on the ground or on paper. Gleave: A spear or halberd Granado: A grenade Grilly'd: Grilled Grincam: Syphilis Guep: Go on! -- said to a horse or as an expression of derision. Habergeon: A chain-mail shirt Haut-gousts: Tasty things Headborough: A constable Hiccius Doctius: A nonsense word used by jugglers, conjurers etc., hence, any kind of trick or dishonest dealing Hight: Called, named Hoccamore: Wine from Hochheim, in Germany Horary: Hourly Huckle: The hip Hugonots: French Calvinists Hypocondries: The upper abdomen, between the breastbone and the navel Id est: That is (L.) Idem: The same (L.) Illation: Inference, deduction In eodem subjecto: Thrown together in the same place (L.) In querpo: Naked Jobbernol(e): A thick head or blockhead Jure divino: By God's law (L.) Langued: Heraldic term meaning, with a tongue of a particular colour e.g. langued gules - with a red tongue Lathy: Thin, like a lath Linsey-woolsey : A cloth of mixed wool and linen threads Linstock: A stick for holding a gunner's match L'Ombre: A card game Longees: Lunges Lustrations: Ceremonials of ritual purification by washing Mainprize: To stand surety for someone Manicon: A plant (deadly nightshade) or its extract, believed to cause insanity when taken Manto: Mantua, a kind of woman's loose gown Martlet: A swallow or martin Mazzard: The head Meazle: A spot or pustule Mira de lente: Wonderfully slow (L.) Mordicus: With the teeth (L.) Morpion: A crab-louse Mundungus: Bad tobacco Nare olfact: Nostril (L.) Neat (noun): A calf or cow Negatur: It is denied (L.) Nimmer: A petty thief Omnibus nervis: With every sinew (L.) Oppugn: Attack or fight against Orcades: The Orkneys pacquet-male: Large wallet Padder: A thief Pari Libra: Equally (L.) Pathic: Passively homosexual Pernicion: Total ruin Petronel: A short carbine or large pistol Picqueer: Skirmish or quarrel Pigsney: A term of endearment for a woman, "darling" Plus satis: More than enough (L.) Poesie: Poetry Pullen: Poultry Punese: A bed-bug Pursy: Rich Quarteridge: A tax or payment due quarterly Quatenus: So far as (it is) (L.) Quillets: Verbal points or quibbles Rampiers: Ramparts Rationalia: Thinking creatures (L.) Rochet: A bishop's white gown or surplice Satis: Enough Sault: Jump Scire facias: To know the appearance of (L.) Sedes Stercoraria: Filthier seat (L.) Seisin: A token of ownership, formally handed over when property is sold. Shanker: A venereal sore, chancre Slubberdegullion: A dirty, slovenly person Soland geese: Barnacle geese (Branta leucopsis) Staffier: A footman Stentrophonick: Loud, as from a megaphone Stum: A mixture of wine and grape juice Suggill'd: Beaten severely Sui juris: Independently (L.) Swound: A swoon Synodical: Arising from or of the nature of a synod - a meeting of bishops etc. of the Anglican Church Tantundem dat tantidem: So much of that gives so much of this = they are exactly the same (L.) Tarsel: A male falcon Theorbo: A kind of lute with two necks Totidem verbis: In just as many words (L.) Trapes: Tripes Trepan: To trap Trigon: A set of 3 signs of the Zodiac at 120-degree angles to each other Tussis pro crepitu: A cough for a fart (L.) Velis & remis: By sail and oar (L.) Veni, Vidi, Vici : I came, I saw, I conquered (L.) Versal: Universal Videlicet: That is, viz. (L.) Vitiligation: Argument, quarrelling Vizard: A mask or disguise Welkin: The sky Whiffler: A ceremonial guard who cleared the way for a mayor or other official Whinyard: A short sword Ycleped: Named Yerst: Erst, formerly *** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Hudibras, in Three Parts, Written in the Time of the Late Wars" *** Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials. Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians. This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 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THOMAS, or, at once, To name them all, another DUNCE: Profound in all the Nominal 155 And Real ways, beyond them all: For he a rope of sand cou'd twist As tough as learned SORBONIST; And weave fine cobwebs, fit for skull That's empty when the moon is full; 160 Such as take lodgings in a head That's to be let unfurnished. He could raise scruples dark and nice, And after solve 'em in a trice; As if Divinity had catch'd 165 The itch, on purpose to be scratch'd; Or, like a mountebank, did wound And stab herself with doubts profound, Only to show with how small pain The sores of Faith are cur'd again; 170 Although by woeful proof we find, They always leave a scar behind. He knew the seat of Paradise, Could tell in what degree it lies; And, as he was dispos'd, could prove it, 175 Below the moon, or else above it. What Adam dreamt of, when his bride Came from her closet in his side: Whether the devil tempted her By a High Dutch interpreter; 180 If either of them had a navel: Who first made music malleable: Whether the serpent, at the fall, Had cloven feet, or none at all. All this, without a gloss, or comment, 185 He could unriddle in a moment, In proper terms, such as men smatter When they throw out, and miss the matter. For his Religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit; 190 'Twas Presbyterian true blue; For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true Church Militant; Such as do build their faith upon 195 The holy text of pike and gun; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks; 200 Call fire and sword and desolation, A godly thorough reformation, Which always must be carried on, And still be doing, never done; As if religion were intended 205 For nothing else but to be mended. A sect, whose chief devotion lies In odd perverse antipathies; In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss; 210 More peevish, cross, and splenetick, Than dog distract, or monkey sick. That with more care keep holy-day The wrong, than others the right way; Compound for sins they are inclin'd to, 215 By damning those they have no mind to: Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshipp'd God for spite. The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. 220 Free-will they one way disavow, Another, nothing else allow: All piety consists therein In them, in other men all sin: Rather than fail, they will defy 225 That which they love most tenderly; Quarrel with minc'd-pies, and disparage Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard through the nose. 230 Th' apostles of this fierce religion, Like MAHOMET'S, were ass and pidgeon, To whom our knight, by fast instinct Of wit and temper, was so linkt, As if hypocrisy and nonsense 235 Had got th' advowson of his conscience. Thus was he gifted and accouter'd; We mean on th' inside, not the outward; That next of all we shall discuss: Then listen, Sirs, it follows thus 240 His tawny beard was th' equal grace Both of his wisdom and his face; In cut and dye so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile: The upper part thereof was whey; 245 The nether, orange mix'd with grey. This hairy meteor did denounce The fall of scepters and of crowns; With grisly type did represent Declining age of government; 250 And tell with hieroglyphick spade, Its own grave and the state's were made. Like SAMPSON'S heart-breakers, it grew In time to make a nation rue; Tho' it contributed its own fall, 255 To wait upon the publick downfal, It was monastick, and did grow In holy orders by strict vow; Of rule as sullen and severe As that of rigid Cordeliere. 260 'Twas bound to suffer persecution And martyrdom with resolution; T' oppose itself against the hate And vengeance of th' incensed state; In whose defiance it was worn, 265 Still ready to be pull'd and torn; With red-hot irons to be tortur'd; Revil'd, and spit upon, and martyr'd. Maugre all which, 'twas to stand fast As long as monarchy shou'd last; 270 But when the state should hap to reel, 'Twas to submit to fatal steel, And fall, as it was consecrate, A sacrifice to fall of state; Whose thread of life the fatal sisters 275 Did twist together with its whiskers, And twine so close, that time should never, In life or death, their fortunes sever; But with his rusty sickle mow Both down together at a blow. 280 So learned TALIACOTIUS from The brawny part of porter's bum Cut supplemental noses, which Wou'd last as long as parent breech; But when the date of NOCK was out, 285 Off drop'd the sympathetic snout. His back, or rather burthen, show'd, As if it stoop'd with its own load: For as AENEAS bore his sire Upon his shoulders thro' the fire, 290 Our Knight did bear no less a pack Of his own buttocks on his back; Which now had almost got the upper- Hand of his head, for want of crupper. To poise this equally, he bore 295 A paunch of the same bulk before; Which still he had a special care To keep well-cramm'd with thrifty fare; As white-pot, butter-milk, and curds, Such as a country-house affords; 300 With other vittle, which anon We farther shall dilate upon, When of his hose we come to treat, The cupboard where he kept his meat. His doublet was of sturdy buff, 305 And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof; Whereby 'twas fitter for his use, Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise. His breeches were of rugged woollen, And had been at the siege of Bullen; 310 To old King HARRY so well known, Some writers held they were his own. Thro' they were lin'd with many a piece Of ammunition bread and cheese, And fat black-puddings, proper food 315 For warriors that delight in blood. For, as we said, he always chose To carry vittle in his hose, That often tempted rats and mice The ammunition to surprise: 320 And when he put a hand but in The one or t' other magazine, They stoutly in defence on't stood, And from the wounded foe drew blood; And 'till th' were storm'd and beaten out, 325 Ne'er left the fortify'd redoubt. And tho' Knights Errant, as some think, Of old did neither eat nor drink, Because, when thorough desarts vast, And regions desolate, they past, 330 Where belly-timber above ground, Or under, was not to be found, Unless they graz'd, there's not one word Of their provision on record; Which made some confidently write, 335 They had no stomachs, but to fight. 'Tis false: for ARTHUR wore in hall Round table like a farthingal, On which with shirt pull'd out behind, And eke before, his good Knights din'd. 340 Though 'twas no table, some suppose, But a huge pair of round trunk hose; In which he carry'd as much meat As he and all the Knights cou'd eat, When, laying by their swords and truncheons, 345 They took their breakfasts, or their nuncheons. But let that pass at present, lest We should forget where we digrest, As learned authors use, to whom We leave it, and to th' purpose come, 350 His puissant sword unto his side, Near his undaunted heart, was ty'd; With basket-hilt, that wou'd hold broth, And serve for fight and dinner both. In it he melted lead for bullets, 355 To shoot at foes, and sometimes pullets, To whom he bore so fell a grutch, He ne'er gave quarter t' any such. The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, For want of fighting, was grown rusty, 360 And ate unto itself, for lack Of somebody to hew and hack. The peaceful scabbard where it dwelt The rancour of its edge had felt; For of the lower end two handful 365 It had devour'd, 'twas so manful; And so much scorn'd to lurk in case, As if it durst not shew its face. In many desperate attempts, Of warrants, exigents, contempts, 370 It had appear'd with courage bolder Than Serjeant BUM invading shoulder. Oft had it ta'en possession, And pris'ners too, or made them run. This sword a dagger had t' his page, 375 That was but little for his age; And therefore waited on him so, As dwarfs upon Knights Errant do. It was a serviceable dudgeon, Either for fighting or for drudging. 380 When it had stabb'd, or broke a head, It would scrape trenchers, or chip bread; Toast cheese or bacon; tho' it were To bait a mouse-trap, 'twould not care. 'Twould make clean shoes; and in the earth 385 Set leeks and onions, and so forth. It had been 'prentice to a brewer, Where this and more it did endure; But left the trade, as many more Have lately done on the same score. 390 In th' holsters, at his saddle-bow, Two aged pistols he did stow, Among the surplus of such meat As in his hose he cou'd not get. These wou'd inveigle rats with th' scent, 395 To forage when the cocks were bent; And sometimes catch 'em with a snap As cleverly as th' ablest trap. They were upon hard duty still, And ev'ry night stood centinel, 400 To guard the magazine i' th' hose From two-legg'd and from four-legg'd foes. Thus clad and fortify'd, Sir Knight From peaceful home set forth to fight. But first with nimble, active force 405 He got on th' outside of his horse; For having but one stirrup ty'd T' his saddle, on the further side, It was so short, h' had much ado To reach it with his desp'rate toe: 410 But, after many strains and heaves, He got up to the saddle-eaves, From whence he vaulted into th' seat, With so much vigour, strength and heat, That he had almost tumbled over 415 With his own weight, but did recover, By laying hold on tail and main, Which oft he us'd instead of rein. But now we talk of mounting steed, Before we further do proceed, 420 It doth behoves us to say something Of that which bore our valiant bumkin. The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, With mouth of meal, and eyes of wall. I wou'd say eye; for h' had but one, 425 As most agree; tho' some say none. He was well stay'd; and in his gait Preserv'd a grave, majestick state. At spur or switch no more he skipt, Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt; 430 And yet so fiery, he wou'd bound As if he griev'd to touch the ground: That CAESAR's horse , who, as fame goes Had corns upon his feet and toes, Was not by half so tender hooft, 435 Nor trod upon the ground so soft. And as that beast would kneel and stoop (Some write) to take his rider up, So HUDIBRAS his ('tis well known) Wou'd often do to set him down. 440 We shall not need to say what lack Of leather was upon his back; For that was hidden under pad, And breech of Knight, gall'd full as bad. His strutting ribs on both sides show'd 445 Like furrows he himself had plow'd; For underneath the skirt of pannel, 'Twixt ev'ry two there was a channel His draggling tail hung in the dirt, Which on his rider he wou'd flurt, 450 Still as his tender side he prick'd, With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd kick'd: For HUDIBRAS wore but one spur; As wisely knowing, cou'd he stir To active trot one side of's horse, 455 The other wou'd not hang an arse. A squire he had, whose name was RALPH, That in th' adventure went his half: Though writers, for more stately tone, Do call him RALPHO; 'tis all one; 460 And when we can with metre safe, We'll call him so; if not, plain RALPH: (For rhyme the rudder is of verses, With which like ships they steer their courses.) An equal stock of wit and valour 465 He had laid in; by birth a taylor. The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd With subtle shreds a tract of land, Did leave it with a castle fair To his great ancestor, her heir. 470 From him descended cross-legg'd Knights, Fam'd for their faith, and warlike fights Against the bloody cannibal, Whom they destroy'd both great and small. This sturdy Squire, he had, as well 475 As the bold Trojan Knight, seen Hell; Not with a counterfeited pass Of golden bough, but true gold-lace. His knowledge was not far behind The Knight's, but of another kind, 480 And he another way came by 't: Some call it GIFTS, and some NEW-LIGHT; A liberal art, that costs no pains Of study, industry, or brains. His wit was sent him for a token, 485 But in the carriage crack'd and broken. Like commendation nine-pence crook'd, With -- To and from my love -- it look'd. He ne'er consider'd it, as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth; 490 And very wisely wou'd lay forth No more upon it than 'twas worth. But as he got it freely, so He spent it frank and freely too. For Saints themselves will sometimes be 495 Of gifts, that cost them nothing, free. By means of this, with hem and cough, Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff, He cou'd deep mysteries unriddle As easily as thread a needle. 500 For as of vagabonds we say, That they are ne'er beside their way; Whate'er men speak by this New Light, Still they are sure to be i' th' right. 'Tis a dark-lanthorn of the Spirit, 505 Which none see by but those that bear it: A light that falls down from on high, For spiritual trades to cozen by An Ignis Fatuus, that bewitches And leads men into pools and ditches, 510 To make them dip themselves, and sound For Christendom in dirty pond To dive like wild-fowl for salvation, And fish to catch regeneration. This light inspires and plays upon 515 The nose of Saint like bag-pipe drone, And speaks through hollow empty soul, As through a trunk, or whisp'ring hole, Such language as no mortal ear But spirit'al eaves-droppers can hear: 520 So PHOEBUS, or some friendly muse, Into small poets song infuse, Which they at second-hand rehearse, Thro' reed or bag-pipe, verse for verse. Thus RALPH became infallible 525 As three or four-legg'd oracle, The ancient cup, or modern chair; Spoke truth point-blank, tho' unaware. For MYSTICK LEARNING, wond'rous able In magick Talisman and Cabal, 530 Whose primitive tradition reaches As far as ADAM'S first green breeches: Deep-sighted in intelligences, Ideas, atoms, influences; And much of Terra Incognita, <> 535 Th' intelligible world, cou'd say: A deep OCCULT PHILOSOPHER, As learn'd as the wild Irish are, Or Sir AGRIPPA ; for profound And solid lying much renown'd. 540 He ANTHROPOSOPHUS, and FLOUD, And JACOB BEHMEN understood: Knew many an amulet and charm, That wou'd do neither good nor harm: In ROSY-CRUCIAN lore as learned, 545 As he that Vere adeptus earned. He understood the speech of birds As well as they themselves do words; Cou'd tell what subtlest parrots mean, That speak, and think contrary clean: 550 What Member 'tis of whom they talk, When they cry, Rope, and walk, knave, walk. He'd extract numbers out of matter, And keep them in a glass, like water; Of sov'reign pow'r to make men wise; 555 For drop'd in blear thick-sighted eyes, They'd make them see in darkest night Like owls, tho' purblind in the light. By help of these (as he profess'd) He had First Matter seen undress'd: 560 He took her naked all alone, Before one rag of form was on. The Chaos too he had descry'd, And seen quite thro', or else he ly'd: Not that of paste-board which men shew 565 For groats, at fair of Barthol'mew; But its great grandsire, first o' the name, Whence that and REFORMATION came; Both cousin-germans, and right able T' inveigle and draw in the rabble. 570 But Reformation was, some say, O' th' younger house to Puppet-play. He cou'd foretel whats'ever was By consequence to come to pass; As death of great men, alterations, 575 Diseases, battles, inundations. All this, without th' eclipse o' th' sun, Or dreadful comet, he hath done, By inward light; away as good, And easy to be understood; 580 But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon themselves what others forge: As if they were consenting to 585 All mischiefs in the world men do: Or, like the Devil, did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em. They'll search a planet's house, to know Who broke and robb'd a house below: 590 Examine VENUS, and the MOON, Who stole a thimble or a spoon; And tho' they nothing will confess, Yet by their very looks can guess, And tell what guilty aspect bodes, 595 Who stole, and who receiv'd the goods. They'll question MARS, and, by his look, Detect who 'twas that nimm'd a cloke: Make MERCURY confess, and 'peach Those thieves which he himself did teach. 600 They'll find, i' th' physiognomies O' th' planets, all men's destinies.; Like him that took the doctor's bill, And swallow'd it instead o' th' pill Cast the nativity o' th' question, 605 And from positions to be guess'd on, As sure as it' they knew the moment Of natives birth, tell what will come on't. They'll feel the pulses of the stars, To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs; 610 And tell what crisis does divine The rot in sheep, or mange in swine In men, what gives or cures the itch; What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich; What gains or loses, hangs or saves; 615 What makes men great, what fools or knaves, But not what wise; for only of those The stars (they say) cannot dispose, No more than can the Astrologians. There they say right, and like true Trojans. This RALPHO knew, and therefore took 620 The other course, of which we spoke. Thus was the accomplish'd Squire endu'd With gifts and knowledge, per'lous shrew'd. Never did trusty Squire with Knight, Or Knight with Squire, e'er jump more right. 625 Their arms and equipage did fit, As well as virtues, parts, and wit. Their valours too were of a rate; And out they sally'd at the gate. 630 Few miles on horseback had they jogged, But Fortune unto them turn'd dogged; For they a sad adventure met, Of which anon we mean to treat; But ere we venture to unfold 635 Atchievements so resolv'd and bold, We shou'd as learned poets use, Invoke th' assistance of some muse: However, criticks count it sillier Than jugglers talking to familiar. 640 We think 'tis no great matter which They're all alike; yet we shall pitch On one that fits our purpose most Whom therefore thus do we accost: Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, 645 Did'st inspire WITHERS, PRYN , and VICKARS, And force them, tho' it was in spite Of nature and their stars, to write; Who, as we find in sullen writs, And cross-grain'd works of modern wits, 650 With vanity, opinion, want, The wonder of the ignorant, The praises of the author, penn'd B' himself, or wit-insuring friend; The itch of picture in the front, 655 With bays and wicked rhyme upon't; All that is left o' th' forked hill, To make men scribble without skill; Canst make a poet spite of fate, And teach all people to translate, 660 Tho' out of languages in which They understand no part of speech; Assist me but this once, I 'mplore, And I shall trouble thee no more. In western clime there is a town, 665 To those that dwell therein well known; Therefore there needs no more be said here, We unto them refer our reader; For brevity is very good, When w' are, or are not, understood. 670 To this town people did repair, On days of market, or of fair, And, to crack'd fiddle, and hoarse tabor, In merriment did drudge and labor. But now a sport more formidable 675 Had rak'd together village rabble: 'Twas an old way of recreating, Which learned butchers call bear-baiting: A bold advent'rous exercise, With ancient heroes in high prize: 680 For authors do affirm it came From Isthmian or Nemean game: Others derive it from the bear That's fix'd in northern hemisphere, And round about the pole does make 685 A circle like a bear at stake, That at the chain's end wheels about, And overturns the rabble-rout. For after solemn proclamation, In the bear's name, (as is the fashion, 690 According to the law of arms, To keep men from inglorious harms,) That none presume to come so near As forty foot of stake of bear, If any yet be so fool-hardy, 695 T' expose themselves to vain jeopardy, If they come wounded off, and lame, No honour's got by such a maim; Altho' the bear gain much, b'ing bound In honour to make good his ground, 700 When he's engag'd, and takes no notice, If any press upon him, who 'tis; But let's them know, at their own cost, That he intends to keep his post. This to prevent, and other harms, 705 Which always wait on feats of arms, (For in the hurry of a fray 'Tis hard to keep out of harm's way,) Thither the Knight his course did steer, To keep the peace 'twixt dog and bear; 710 As he believ'd he was bound to do In conscience, and commission too; And therefore thus bespoke the Squire. We that