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         Butler, Samuel, 1612-1680.
      
       
         
           1663
        
      
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             Hudibras written in the time of the late wars.
             Butler, Samuel, 1612-1680.
          
           [2], 125 p.
           
             [s.n.],
             London :
             1663.
          
           
             Crowned rose and thistle on t.p.
             On verso of t.p.: Imprimatur. Jo. Berkenhead. Novemb. 11, 1662.
             Attributed to Samuel Butler. Cf. BM.
             First unauthorized edition of the first part. Cf. BM.
             Errata: p. 125.
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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           HUDIBRAS
           .
           THE
           FIRST
           PART
           .
           Written
           in
           the
           time
           of
           the
           late
           Wars
           .
        
         
           LONDON
           ,
           Printed
           in
           the
           Year
           ,
           1663.
           
        
      
       
         
         
           Imprimatur
           .
        
         
           
             TO
             :
             BERKENHEAD
          
           .
        
         
           Novemb.
           11
           1662.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           HUDIBRAS
           .
        
         
           
             
               THE
               ARGUMENT
               OF
               The
               FIRST
               CANTO
               .
            
             
               
                 Sir
                 Hudibras
                 his
                 passing
                 worth
                 ,
              
               
                 The
                 manner
                 how
                 he
                 sally'd
                 farth
                 :
              
               
                 His
                 Arms
                 and
                 Equi
                 age
                 are
                 shown
                 ;
              
               
                 His
                 Horse's
                 Vertues
                 ,
                 and
                 his
                 own
                 .
              
               
                 Th'
                 Adventure
                 of
                 the
                 Bear
                 and
                 Fiddle
              
               
                 Is
                 sung
                 ,
                 but
                 breaks
                 off
                 in
                 the
                 middle
                 .
              
            
          
           
             CANTO
             1.
             
          
           
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               Batrel
               sounded
               ,
            
             
               And
               Pulpit
               ,
               Drum
               Ecclesiastick
               ,
            
             
               Was
               beat
               with
               s●…t
               ,
               instead
               of
               a
               stick
               :
            
             
               Then
               did
               Sir
               Knight
               abandon
               dwelling
               ,
            
             
               And
               out
               Le
               rode
               Colonelling
               .
            
          
           
             
               A
               wight
               he
               was
               ,
               whose
               very
               sight
               wou'd
            
             
               Entitle
               him
               
                 Mirrour
                 of
                 Knighthood
              
               ;
            
             
               That
               never
               bow'd
               his
               stubborn
               knee
            
             
               To
               any
               thing
               but
               Chivalry
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               put
               up
               blow
               ,
               but
               that
               which
               laid
            
             
               Right
               Worshipfull
               on
               shoulder-blade
               :
            
             
               Chief
               of
               Domestick
               Knights
               and
               Errant
               ,
            
             
               Either
               for
               Chartel
               or
               for
               Warrant
               :
            
             
               Great
               on
               the
               Bench
               ,
               Great
               in
               the
               Saddle
               ,
            
             
               That
               could
               as
               well
               bind
               o're
               ,
               as
               swaddle
               :
            
             
               Mighty
               he
               was
               at
               both
               of
               these
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               Some
               hold
               the
               one
               ,
               and
               some
               the
               other
               :
            
             
               But
               howsoe're
               they
               make
               a
               pother
               ,
            
             
             
               The
               difference
               was
               so
               small
               ,
               his
               Brain
            
             
               Outweigh'd
               his
               Rage
               but
               half
               a
               grain
               :
            
             
               Which
               made
               some
               take
               him
               for
               a
               tool
            
             
               That
               Knaves
               do
               work
               with
               ,
               call'd
               a
               Fool.
            
             
               For
               't
               has
               been
               held
               by
               many
               ,
               that
            
             
               As
               Mountaigne
               ,
               playing
               with
               his
               Cat
               ,
            
             
               Complains
               she
               thought
               him
               but
               an
               Ass
               ,
            
             
               Much
               more
               she
               would
               Sir
               Hudibras
               .
            
             
               But
               they
               'r
               mistaken
               very
               much
               ,
            
             
               'T
               is
               plain
               enough
               he
               was
               no
               such
               .
            
             
               We
               grant
               ,
               although
               he
               had
               much
               wit
               ,
            
             
               H'
               was
               very
               shie
               of
               using
               it
               ,
            
             
               As
               being
               loath
               to
               wear
               it
               out
               ,
            
             
               And
               therefore
               bore
               it
               not
               about
               ,
            
             
               Unless
               on
               Holydayes
               ,
               or
               so
               ,
            
             
               As
               men
               their
               best
               Apparel
               do
               .
            
             
               Beside
               't
               is
               known
               he
               could
               speak
               Greek
               ,
            
             
               As
               naturally
               as
               Pigs
               squeek
               :
            
             
               That
               Latin
               was
               no
               more
               difficile
               ,
            
             
               Than
               to
               a
               Blackbird
               't
               is
               to
               whistle
               .
            
             
               Being
               rich
               in
               both
               he
               never
               scanted
            
             
               His
               Bounty
               unto
               such
               as
               wanted
               ;
            
             
               But
               much
               of
               either
               would
               afford
            
             
               To
               many
               that
               had
               not
               one
               word
               .
            
             
               For
               Hebrew
               Roots
               ,
               although
               th'
               are
               found
            
             
               To
               flourish
               most
               in
               barren
               ground
               ,
            
             
               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
               Logick
               a
               great
               Critick
               ,
            
             
               Profoundly
               skill'd
               in
               Analytick
               .
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               Rhetorick
               ,
               he
               could
               not
               ope
            
             
               His
               mouth
               ,
               but
               out
               there
               flew
               a
               Trope
               :
            
             
               And
               when
               he
               hapned
               to
               break
               off
            
             
               I'
               th
               middle
               of
               his
               speech
               ,
               or
               cough
               ,
            
             
               H'
               had
               hard
               words
               ready
               ,
               to
               shew
               why
               ,
            
             
               And
               tell
               what
               Rules
               he
               did
               it
               by
               .
            
             
               Else
               when
               with
               greatest
               Art
               he
               spoke
               ,
            
             
               You
               'd
               think
               he
               talk'd
               like
               other
               foke
               .
            
             
             
               But
               when
               he
               pleas'd
               to
               shew
               't
               ,
               his
               speech
            
             
               In
               loftiness
               of
               sound
               was
               rich
               ,
            
             
               A
               Babylonish
               dialect
               ,
            
             
               Which
               learned
               Pedants
               much
               affect
               .
            
             
               It
               was
               a
               particolour'd
               dress
            
             
               Of
               patch'd
               and
               pyball'd
               Languages
               :
            
             
               'T
               was
               English
               cut
               on
               Greek
               and
               Latin
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Fustian
               heretofore
               on
               Sattin
               .
            
          
           
             
               It
               had
               an
               odde
               promiscuous
               Tone
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               h
               'had
               talk'd
               three
               parts
               in
               one
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               his
               stock
               would
               ne'r
               be
               spent
               .
            
             
               And
               truly
               to
               support
               that
               charge
            
             
               He
               had
               supplies
               as
               vast
               and
               large
               .
            
             
               For
               he
               could
               coyn
               or
               counterfeit
            
             
               New
               words
               ,
               with
               little
               or
               no
               wit
               :
            
             
               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
               currant
               took
               '
               em
               .
            
          
           
             
               In
               Mathematicks
               he
               was
               greater
            
             
               Then
               Tycho
               Brahe
               or
               Erra
               Pater
               :
            
             
             
               For
               he
               by
               Geometrick
               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
            
             
               The
               Clock
               does
               strike
               ,
               by
               Algebra
               .
            
             
               Beside
               he
               was
               a
               shrewd
               Philosopher
               ,
            
             
               And
               had
               read
               every
               Text
               and
               gloss
               over
               :
            
             
               What
               every
               Sceptick
               could
               inquere
               for
               ;
            
             
               For
               every
               why
               he
               had
               a
               wherefore
               :
            
             
               Knew
               more
               than
               forty
               of
               them
               do
               ,
            
             
               As
               far
               as
               words
               and
               terms
               could
               go
               .
            
             
               All
               which
               he
               understood
               by
               Rote
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               But
               oftentimes
               mistook
               the
               one
            
             
               For
               th'
               other
               ,
               as
               Great
               Clerks
               have
               done
               .
            
             
               He
               'd
               tell
               wl
               ere
               Entity
               and
               Quiddity
               ,
            
             
               The
               Ghosts
               of
               defunct
               Bodies
               ,
               flie
               ;
            
             
               Where
               Truth
               in
               Person
               does
               appear
               ,
            
             
               Like
               words
               congeal'd
               in
               Northern
               Air.
            
             
               He
               knew
               
                 what
                 's
                 what
              
               ,
               and
               that
               's
               as
               high
            
             
               As
               
                 Met
                 aphysick
              
               wit
               can
               flie
               .
            
             
               In
               School-Divinity
               as
               able
            
             
               As
               he
               that
               hight
               Irrefragable
               ;
            
             
             
               A
               second
               Thomas
               ,
               or
               ,
               at
               once
            
             
               To
               name
               them
               all
               ,
               another
               Dunce
               .
            
             
               For
               he
               a
               Rope
               of
               sand
               could
               twist
               ,
            
             
               As
               tough
               as
               Learned
               Sorbonist
               ;
            
             
               And
               weave
               fine
               Cobwebs
               ,
               fit
               for
               ;
               skull
            
             
               That
               's
               empty
               when
               the
               Moon
               is
               full
               ;
            
             
               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
            
             
               The
               Itch
               ,
               of
               purpose
               to
               be
               scratch'd
               :
            
             
               Or
               ,
               like
               a
               Mountebank
               ,
               did
               wound
            
             
               And
               stab
               her self
               with
               doubts
               profound
               ,
            
             
               Only
               to
               shew
               with
               how
               small
               pain
            
             
               The
               sores
               of
               faith
               are
               cur'd
               again
               ;
            
             
               Although
               by
               wofull
               proof
               we
               find
               ,
            
             
               They
               alwayes
               leave
               a
               Scar
               behind
               .
            
             
               He
               knew
               the
               seat
               of
               Paradise
               ,
            
             
               Could
               tell
               in
               what
               degree
               it
               lies
               :
            
             
               What
               Adam
               dreamt
               of
               when
               his
               Bride
            
             
               Came
               from
               her
               Closet
               in
               his
               side
               :
            
             
               Whether
               the
               Devil
               tempted
               her
            
             
               By
               a
               
                 High
                 Dutch
              
               Interpreter
               :
            
             
               If
               either
               of
               them
               had
               a
               Navel
               ;
            
             
               Who
               first
               made
               Musick
               malleable
               :
            
             
               Whether
               the
               Serpent
               at
               the
               Fall
            
             
               Had
               cloven
               Feet
               ,
               or
               none
               at
               all
               .
            
             
             
               All
               this
               ,
               without
               a
               Glosse
               o●…
               Comment
               ,
            
             
               He
               would
               unriddle
               in
               a
               moment
            
             
               In
               proper
               terms
               ,
               such
               as
               men
               smatter
            
             
               When
               they
               throw
               out
               and
               misse
               the
               matter
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               his
               Religion
               it
               was
               fit
            
             
               To
               match
               his
               Learning
               and
               his
               Wit
               :
            
             
               T
               was
               Presbyterian
               true
               blew
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               The
               holy
               Text
               of
               Pike
               and
               Gun
               ;
            
             
               Decide
               all
               Controversies
               by
            
             
               Infallible
               Artillery
               ;
            
             
               And
               prove
               their
               Doctrine
               Orthodox
            
             
               By
               Apostolick
               Blows
               and
               Knocks
               ;
            
             
               Call
               Fire
               ,
               and
               Sword
               ,
               and
               Desolation
               ,
            
             
               A
               Godly-thorough-Reformation
               ,
            
             
               Which
               alwayes
               must
               be
               carry'd
               on
               ,
            
             
               And
               still
               be
               doing
               ,
               never
               done
               :
            
             
               As
               if
               Religion
               were
               intended
            
             
               For
               nothing
               else
               but
               to
               be
               mended
               .
            
          
           
             
               A
               Sect
               ,
               whose
               chief
               Devotion
               lies
            
             
               In
               odde
               perverse
               Antipathies
               ;
            
             
               In
               falling
               out
               with
               that
               or
               this
               ,
            
             
               And
               finding
               somewhat
               still
               amiss
               :
            
             
             
               More
               peevish
               ,
               crosse
               ,
               and
               spleenatick
               ,
            
             
               Then
               Dog
               distract
               ,
               or
               Monky
               sick
               :
            
             
               That
               with
               more
               care
               keep
               holy-day
            
             
               The
               wrong
               ,
               then
               others
               the
               right
               way
               :
            
             
               Still
               so
               perverse
               and
               opposite
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               they
               worshipp'd
               God
               for
               spight
               ,
            
             
               The
               self-same
               thing
               they
               will
               abhor
            
             
               One
               way
               ,
               and
               long
               another
               for
               .
            
             
               Free-will
               they
               one
               way
               disavow
               .
            
             
               Another
               ,
               nothing
               else
               allow
               .
            
             
               All
               Piety
               consists
               therein
            
             
               In
               them
               ,
               in
               other
               men
               all
               Sin.
               
            
          
           
             
               Rather
               then
               faile
               ,
               they
               will
               defie
            
             
               That
               which
               they
               love
               most
               tenderly
               ;
            
             
               Quarrel
               with
               
                 minc'd
                 Pyes
              
               ,
               and
               disparrage
            
             
               Their
               best
               and
               dearest
               friend
               ,
               Plum-porredge
               ;
            
             
               Fat
               Pig
               and
               Goose
               it self
               oppose
               ,
            
             
               And
               blaspheme
               Custard
               through
               the
               Nose
               .
            
             
               Th'
               Apostles
               of
               this
               fierce
               Religion
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Mahomet's
               ,
               were
               Asse
               and
               Wigeon
               ,
            
             
               To
               whom
               out
               Knight
               by
               fast
               instinct
            
             
               Of
               wit
               and
               temper
               was
               so
               linkt
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               Hypocrisie
               and
               non-sense
               ,
            
             
               Had
               got
               the
               Advouson
               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
               Sits
               ,
               It
               followeth
               thus
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               tawny
               Beard
               was
               th'
               equall
               grace
            
             
               Both
               of
               his
               wisdome
               and
               his
               face
               ;
            
             
               In
               Cut
               and
               Dy
               so
               like
               a
               ●…e
               ,
            
             
               A
               sudden
               view
               it
               would
               beguile
               :
            
             
               The
               upper
               part
               thereof
               was
               Whey
               ,
            
             
               The
               nether
               Orange
               mixt
               with
               Gray
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               hairy
               Meteor
               did
               denounce
            
             
               The
               fall
               of
               Scepters
               and
               of
               Crowns
               ;
            
             
               With
               grizly
               type
               did
               represent
            
             
               Declining
               Age
               of
               Government
               ;
            
             
               And
               tell
               with
               Hieroglyphick
               Spade
               ,
            
             
               It
               s
               own
               grave
               and
               the
               State
               's
               were
               made
               .
            
             
               Like
               
               Sampson's
               Heart-breakers
               ,
               it
               grew
            
             
               In
               time
               to
               make
               a
               Nation
               rue
               ;
            
             
               Though
               it
               contributed
               its
               own
               fall
               ,
            
             
               To
               wait
               upon
               the
               publick
               downfall
               .
            
             
               It
               was
               Monastick
               ,
               and
               did
               grow
            
             
               In
               holy
               Orders
               ,
               by
               strict
               vow
               ;
            
             
               Of
               Rule
               as
               sullen
               and
               severe
               ,
            
             
               As
               that
               of
               rigid
               Cordeliere
               .
            
             
               'T
               was
               bound
               to
               suffer
               Persecution
            
             
               And
               Marryrdom
               with
               resolution
               ;
            
             
               T'
               oppose
               it self
               against
               the
               hate
            
             
               And
               vengeance
               of
               th'
               incensed
               State.
            
             
             
               In
               whose
               defiance
               it
               was
               worn
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
               't
               was
               to
               stand
               fast
            
             
               As
               long
               as
               Monarchy
               should
               last
               .
            
             
               But
               when
               the
               〈◊〉
               should
               hap
               to
               reel
               ,
            
             
               'T
               was
               to
               submit
               to
               fatal
               steel
               ,
            
             
               And
               fall
               ,
               as
               it
               was
               consecrate
            
             
               A
               sacrifice
               to
               fall
               of
               State
               ;
            
             
               Whose
               ●…hred
               of
               life
               fatal
               Sisters
            
             
               Did
               〈◊〉
               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
               .
            
          
           
             
               So
               learned
               Taliacotius
               from
            
             
               The
               brawny
               part
               of
               Porter's
               Bum
               ,
            
             
               Cut
               supplemental
               Noses
               ,
               which
            
             
               Would
               last
               as
               long
               as
               Parent
               breech
               :
            
             
               But
               when
               the
               Date
               of
               Nock
               was
               out
               ,
            
             
               Off
               dropt
               the
               Sympathetick
               Snout
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               Back
               ,
               or
               rather
               Burthen
               ,
               show'd
            
             
               As
               if
               it
               stoop'd
               with
               its
               own
               load
               .
            
             
               For
               as
               
                 Aene
                 as
              
               bore
               his
               Sire
            
             
               Upon
               his
               shoulders
               through
               the
               fire
               :
            
             
             
               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
               poize
               this
               equally
               ,
               he
               bore
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               With
               other
               Victual
               ,
               which
               anon
            
             
               We
               further
               shall
               dilate
               upon
               ,
            
             
               When
               of
               his
               Hose
               we
               come
               to
               treat
               ,
            
             
               The
               Cup-bord
               where
               he
               kept
               his
               meat
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               Doublet
               was
               of
               sturdy
               Buff
               ,
            
             
               And
               though
               not
               Sword-yet
               Cudgel-proof
               :
            
             
               Whereby
               't
               was
               fitter
               for
               his
               use
               ,
            
             
               That
               sear'd
               no
               blows
               but
               such
               as
               bruise
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               Breeches
               were
               of
               rugged
               woolen
               ,
            
             
               And
               had
               been
               at
               the
               siege
               of
               Bullen
               ;
            
             
               To
               old
               King
               Harry
               so
               well
               known
               ,
            
             
               Some
               writers
               held
               they
               were
               his
               own
               .
            
             
               Through
               they
               were
               lin'd
               with
               many
               a
               piece
            
             
               Of
               Ammunition-Bread
               and
               Cheese
               ,
            
             
               And
               fat
               Black-puddings
               ,
               proper
               food
            
             
               For
               Warriers
               that
               delight
               in
               blood
               ,
            
             
             
               For
               ,
               as
               we
               said
               ,
               He
               always
               chose
            
             
               To
               carry
               Vittle
               in
               his
               hose
               .
            
             
               And
               though
               Knights
               Errant
               ,
               as
               some
               think
               ,
            
             
               Of
               old
               did
               neither
               eat
               nor
               drink
               ,
            
             
               Because
               when
               thorough
               Deserts
               vast
            
             
               And
               Regions
               desolate
               they
               past
               ,
            
             
               Where
               Belly-●…imber
               above
               ground
            
             
               O●…
               under
               was
               not
               to
               be
               found
               ,
            
             
               Unless
               they
               g●…az'd
               ,
               there
               's
               not
               one
               word
            
             
               Of
               their
               Provision
               on
               Record
               :
            
             
               Which
               made
               some
               confidently
               write
               ,
            
             
               They
               had
               no
               stomachs
               ,
               but
               to
               fight
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               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
               .
            
             
               Though
               't
               was
               no
               Table
               ,
               some
               suppose
               ,
            
             
               But
               a
               huge
               pair
               of
               round
               Trunk-hose
               ;
            
             
               In
               which
               he
               carried
               as
               much
               meat
            
             
               As
               he
               and
               all
               his
               Knights
               could
               eat
               ,
            
             
               When
               laying
               by
               their
               swords
               and
               truncheons
               ,
            
             
               They
               took
               their
               Breakfasts
               and
               their
               Nuncheons
               .
            
             
               But
               let
               that
               pass
               at
               present
               ,
               lest
            
             
               We
               should
               forget
               where
               we
               dig
               rest
               :
            
             
               As
               learned
               Authors
               use
               ,
               to
               whom
            
             
               We
               leave
               it
               ,
               and
               to
               th'
               purpose
               come
               .
            
             
               His
               puissant
               Sword
               unto
               his
               side
            
             
               Near
               his
               undaunted
               heart
               was
               ty'd
               ,
            
             
             
               With
               Basket-hilt
               ,
               that
               would
               hold
               broth
               .
            
             
               And
               serve
               for
               fight
               and
               dinner
               both
               .
            
             
               In
               it
               he
               melted
               lead
               for
               Bullets
               ,
            
             
               To
               shoot
               at
               Foes
               ;
               and
               sometimes
               Pullets
               ,
            
             
               To
               whom
               he
               bore
               so
               fell
               a
               Grutch
               ,
            
             
               He
               ne're
               gave
               quarter
               t'
               any
               such
               .
            
             
               The
               trenchant
               blade
               ,
               Toledo
               trusty
               ,
            
             
               For
               want
               of
               fighting
               was
               grown
               rusty
               ,
            
             
               And
               ate
               into
               it self
               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
            
             
               It
               had
               devour'd
               ,
               't
               was
               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
               ,
            
             
               It
               had
               appear'd
               with
               Courage
               bolder
            
             
               Then
               Sergeant
               Bum
               ,
               invading
               shoulder
               .
            
             
               Oft
               had
               it
               ta'ne
               possession
               ,
            
             
               And
               Pris'ners
               too
               ,
               or
               made
               them
               run
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               Sword
               a
               Dagger
               had
               his
               Page
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               When
               it
               had
               stabb'd
               ,
               or
               broke
               a
               head
               ,
            
             
               It
               would
               scrape
               Trenchers
               ,
               or
               chip
               Bread
               ,
            
             
               Toast
               Cheese
               or
               Bacon
               ,
               though
               it
               were
            
             
               To
               bait
               a
               Mouse-trap
               ,
               't
               would
               not
               care
               .
            
             
               'T
               would
               make
               clean
               shooes
               ,
               and
               in
               the
               earth
            
             
               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
               .
            
          
           
             
               In
               th'
               Holsters
               at
               his
               saddle-bow
               ,
            
             
               Two
               aged
               Pistolls
               he
               did
               stow
               ,
            
             
               Among
               the
               surplus
               of
               such
               meat
            
             
               As
               in
               his
               hose
               he
               could
               not
               get
               .
            
             
               These
               would
               inveigle
               Rats
               with
               th'
               scent
               ,
            
             
               To
               forrage
               when
               the
               Cocks
               were
               bent
               ,
            
             
               And
               sometime
               catch
               'em
               with
               a
               snap
            
             
               As
               cleverly
               as
               th'
               ablest
               trap
               .
            
             
               They
               were
               upon
               hard
               Duty
               still
               ,
            
             
               And
               every
               night
               stood
               Centinel
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               desperate
               roe
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               With
               his
               own
               weight
               ,
               but
               did
               recover
               ,
            
             
               By
               laying
               hold
               on
               tail
               and
               mane
               ,
            
             
               Which
               oft
               he
               us'd
               instead
               of
               reyn
               ,
            
          
           
             
               But
               now
               we
               talk
               of
               mounting
               Steed
               ,
            
             
               Before
               we
               further
               do
               proceed
               ,
            
             
               It
               doth
               he
               hove
               us
               to
               say
               something
               ,
            
             
               Of
               that
               which
               bore
               our
               valiant
               Bunkin
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Beast
               was
               sturdy
               ;
               large
               and
               tall
               ,
            
             
               With
               mouth
               of
               mea●…
               and
               eyes
               of
               wall
               :
            
             
               I
               would
               say
               eye
               ,
               for
               h'
               had
               but
               one
               ,
            
             
               As
               most
               agree
               ,
               though
               some
               say
               none
            
             
               He
               was
               well
               stay'd
               ,
               and
               in
               his
               Gate
            
             
               Preserv'd
               a
               grave
               ,
               majestick
               state
               .
            
             
               At
               Spur
               or
               Switch
               no
               more
               he
               skipt
               ,
            
             
               O●…
               mended
               pace
               ,
               than
               Spaniard
               whipt
               :
            
             
             
               And
               yet
               so
               fiery
               ,
               he
               would
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               (
               't
               is
               well
               known
               )
            
             
               Would
               often
               do
               ,
               to
               set
               him
               down
               .
            
          
           
             
               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
            
             
               Like
               furrows
               he
               himself
               had
               plow'd
               :
            
             
               For
               underneath
               the
               skirt
               of
               Pannel
               ,
            
             
               'Twixt
               every
               two
               there
               was
               a
               Channel
               .
            
             
               His
               dragling
               Tail
               hung
               in
               the
               Dirt
               ,
            
             
               Which
               on
               his
               Rider
               he
               would
               flurt
            
             
               Still
               as
               his
               tender
               side
               he
               prickt
               ,
            
             
               With
               arm'd
               heel
               ,
               or
               with
               unarm'd
               kickt
               :
            
             
               For
               Hudibras
               wore
               but
               one
               Spur
               ,
            
             
               As
               wisely
               knowing
               ,
               could
               he
               stir
            
             
               To
               active
               tror
               one
               side
               of
               's
               Horse
               ,
            
             
               The
               other
               would
               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
               ;
               't
               is
               all
               one
               :
            
             
               And
               when
               we
               can
               with
               Meeter
               safe
               ,
            
             
               We
               'l
               call
               him
               so
               ,
               if
               not
               plain
               Raph.
            
             
               For
               Rhyme
               the
               Rudder
               is
               of
               Verses
               ,
            
             
               With
               which
               like
               Ships
               they
               stea
               their
               courses
               .
            
             
               An
               equal
               stock
               of
               Wit
               and
               Valour
            
             
               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
               :
            
             
               From
               him
               descended
               cross-legg'd
               Knights
               ,
            
             
               Fam'd
               for
               their
               faith
               ,
               and
               warlike
               fights
            
             
               Against
               the
               bloody
               Canibal
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               they
               destroy'd
               both
               great
               and
               small
               .
            
             
               This
               sturdy
               Squire
               had
               as
               well
            
             
               As
               the
               bold
               Trojan
               Knight
               ,
               seen
               Hell
               ,
            
             
               Not
               with
               a
               counterseited
               Pass
            
             
               Of
               golden
               bough
               ,
               but
               true
               gold-lace
               .
            
             
               His
               Knowledge
               was
               not
               far
               behind
            
             
               The
               Knight's
               ,
               but
               of
               another
               kind
               ,
            
             
               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
               wits
               were
               sent
               him
               for
               a
               Token
               ,
            
             
               But
               in
               the
               Carriage
               crackt
               and
               broken
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Commendation
               Nine-pence
               ,
               crookt
            
             
               With
               to
               and
               from
               my
               Love
               ,
               it
               lookt
               .
            
             
               He
               ne're
               consider'd
               it
               ,
               as
               loath
            
             
               To
               look
               a
               gift-horse
               in
               the
               mouth
               ;
            
             
               And
               very
               wisely
               would
               lay
               forth
            
             
               No
               more
               upon
               it
               then
               't
               was
               worth
               .
            
             
               But
               as
               he
               got
               it
               freely
               ,
               so
            
             
               He
               spent
               it
               frank
               and
               freely
               too
               .
            
             
               For
               Saints
               themselves
               will
               sometimes
               be
            
             
               Of
               Gifts
               that
               cost
               them
               nothing
               free
               .
            
             
               By
               means
               of
               this
               ,
               with
               hem
               and
               cough
               ,
            
             
               Prolongers
               to
               enlightned
               Snuff
               ,
            
             
               He
               could
               deep
               Mysteries
               unriddle
               ,
            
             
               As
               easily
               as
               thread
               a
               Needle
               :
            
             
               For
               as
               of
               Vagabonds
               we
               say
               ,
            
             
               That
               they
               are
               ne're
               beside
               their
               way
               :
            
             
               Whate're
               men
               speak
               by
               this
               
                 new
                 Light
              
               ,
            
             
               Still
               they
               are
               sure
               to
               bei'th
               '
               right
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               a
               
                 dark
                 Lanthorn
              
               of
               the
               Spirit
               ,
            
             
               Which
               none
               see
               by
               but
               those
               that
               hear
               it
               :
            
             
               A
               Light
               that
               falls
               down
               from
               on
               high
               ,
            
             
               For
               Spiritual
               Trades
               to
               cousen
               by
               :
            
             
               An
               
                 Ignis
                 Fatuus
              
               ,
               that
               bewitches
               ,
            
             
               And
               leads
               men
               into
               Pools
               and
               Ditches
               ,
            
             
               To
               make
               them
               dip
               themselves
               ,
               and
               sound
            
             
               For
               Christendome
               in
               Dirty
               pond
               ;
            
             
             
               To
               dive
               like
               Wild-fowle
               for
               Salvation
               ,
            
             
               And
               fish
               to
               catch
               Regeneration
               .
            
             
               This
               Light
               inspires
               ,
               and
               playes
               upon
            
             
               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
               spiritual
               Eaves-droppers
               can
               hear
               .
            
             
               So
               Phoebus
               or
               some
               friendly
               Muse
            
             
               Into
               small
               Poets
               Song
               infuse
               ;
            
             
               Which
               they
               at
               second-hand
               rehearse
            
             
               Through
               reed
               or
               bag-pipe
               ,
               verse
               for
               verse
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thus
               Ralph
               became
               infallible
               ,
            
             
               As
               three
               or
               four-legg'd
               Oracle
               ,
            
             
               The
               antient
               Cup
               ,
               or
               modern
               Chair
               ;
            
             
               Spoke
               truth
               point-blank
               ,
               though
               unaware
               :
            
             
               For
               mystick
               Learning
               ,
               wondrous
               able
            
             
               In
               Magick
               ,
               Talisman
               ,
               and
               Cabal
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Primitive
               tradition
               reaches
            
             
               As
               far
               as
               
               Adam's
               first
               green
               breeches
               :
            
             
               Deep-sighted
               in
               Intelligences
               ,
            
             
               Idea's
               ,
               Atomes
               ,
               Influences
               ;
            
             
               And
               much
               of
               
                 Terra
                 Incognita
              
               ;
            
             
               Th'
               Intelligible
               world
               could
               say
               :
            
             
               A
               deep
               occult
               Philosopher
               ,
            
             
               As
               learn'd
               as
               the
               
                 Wild
                 Irish
              
               are
               ,
            
             
             
               Or
               Sir
               Agrippa
               ;
               for
               profound
            
             
               And
               solid
               Lying
               much
               renown'd
               :
            
             
               He
               Anthroposophus
               ,
               and
               Floud
               ,
            
             
               And
               
                 Jacob
                 Behmen
              
               understood
               ;
            
             
               Knew
               many
               an
               Amulet
               and
               Charm
               ;
            
             
               That
               would
               do
               neither
               good
               nor
               harm
               :
            
             
               In
               Rosy-Crucian
               Lore
               as
               learned
               ,
            
             
               As
               he
               that
               
                 Verè
                 adeptus
              
               earned
               .
            
             
               He
               understood
               the
               speech
               of
               Birds
               ,
            
             
               As
               well
               as
               they
               themselves
               do
               words
               :
            
             
               Could
               tell
               what
               subtlest
               Parrots
               mean
               ,
            
             
               That
               speak
               and
               think
               contrary
               clean
               ;
            
             
               What
               Member
               't
               is
               of
               whom
               they
               talk
               ,
            
             
               When
               they
               cry
               Rope
               ,
               and
               
                 Walk
                 ,
                 Knave
                 ,
                 Walk
              
               .
            
             
               He
               'd
               extract
               numbers
               out
               of
               matter
               ,
            
             
               And
               keep
               them
               in
               a
               Glasse
               ,
               like
               water
               ,
            
             
               Of
               sov'raign
               pow'r
               to
               make
               men
               wise
               ;
            
             
               For
               dropt
               in
               blere
               ,
               thick-sighted
               eyes
               ,
            
             
               They
               'd
               make
               them
               see
               in
               darkest
               night
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Owls
               ,
               though
               pur-blind
               in
               the
               light
               .
            
             
               By
               help
               of
               these
               (
               as
               he
               profest
               )
            
             
               He
               had
               
                 First
                 Matter
              
               seen
               undrest
               :
            
             
               He
               took
               her
               naked
               all
               alone
               ,
            
             
               Before
               one
               Rag
               of
               Form
               was
               on
               .
            
             
               The
               Chaos
               too
               he
               had
               descry'd
               ,
            
             
               And
               seen
               quite
               through
               ,
               or
               else
               he
               ly'd
               ;
            
             
               Not
               that
               of
               Past-board
               which
               men
               shew
            
             
               For
               Groats
               at
               
                 Fair
                 of
                 Bartholmew
              
               .
            
             
             
               But
               it
               s
               great
               Grandsire
               ,
               first
               o'
               th'
               name
               ,
            
             
               Whence
               that
               and
               Reformation
               came
               :
            
             
               Both
               Cousin-germans
               ,
               and
               right
               able
            
             
               T'
               inveigle
               and
               draw
               in
               the
               Rabble
               .
            
             
               But
               Reformation
               was
               ,
               some
               say
               ,
            
             
               O'
               th'
               younger
               house
               to
               Puppet-play
               .
            
             
               He
               could
               fore-tell
               whats'oever
               was
            
             
               By
               consequence
               to
               come
               to
               pass
               .
            
             
               As
               Death
               of
               Great
               men
               ,
               Alterations
               ,
            
             
               Diseases
               ,
               Battels
               ,
               Inundations
               .
            
             
               All
               this
               without
               th'
               ecclipse
               of
               Sur
               ,
            
             
               Ordreadfull
               Corner
               ,
               he
               hath
               done
               ,
            
             
               By
               inward
               light
               ,
               a
               way
               as
               good
               ,
            
             
               And
               easie
               to
               be
               understood
               .
            
             
               But
               with
               more
               luckie
               hit
               then
               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
            
             
               All
               Mischief
               in
               the
               World
               mendo
               ;
            
             
               Or
               like
               the
               Dev'l
               ,
               did
               tempt
               and
               sway'em
            
             
               To
               Rogueries
               ,
               and
               then
               betray
               '
               em
               .
            
             
               They
               'l
               search
               a
               Planet's
               house
               ,
               to
               know
            
             
               Who
               broke
               and
               robb'd
               a
               house
               below
               :
            
             
               Examine
               Venus
               ,
               and
               the
               Moon
               ,
            
             
               Who
               stole
               a
               thimble
               ,
               or
               a
               spoon
               :
            
             
               And
               though
               they
               nothing
               will
               confesse
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               by
               their
               very
               looks
               can
               gresse
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               tell
               what
               guilty
               Aspect
               bodes
               ,
            
             
               Who
               stole
               ,
               and
               who
               receiv'd
               the
               goods
               .
            
             
               They
               'l
               question
               Mars
               ,
               and
               by
               his
               look
            
             
               Detect
               who
               't
               was
               that
               nimm'd
               a
               Cloke
               :
            
             
               Make
               Mercury
               consess
               and
               peach
            
             
               Those
               thieves
               which
               he
               himself
               did
               teach
               .
            
             
               They
               'l
               find
               i'
               th'
               Physiognomies
            
             
               O'
               th'
               Planets
               all
               mens
               destinies
               :
            
             
               Like
               him
               that
               took
               the
               Doctor
               's
               Bill
               ,
            
             
               And
               swallow'd
               it
               instead
               o'
               th'
               Piil
               .
            
             
               Cast
               the
               nativity
               o'
               th
               Question
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               Positions
               to
               be
               guest
               on
               ,
            
             
               As
               sure
               as
               if
               they
               knew
               the
               moment
            
             
               Of
               Natives
               birth
               ,
               rell
               what
               will
               come
               on
               't
               .
            
             
               They
               'l
               feel
               the
               Pulses
               of
               the
               Stars
               ,
            
             
               To
               find
               out
               Agues
               ,
               Coughs
               ,
               Catarrhs
               ;
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               What
               makes
               men
               great
               ,
               what
               fools
               or
               knaves
               ;
            
             
               But
               not
               what
               wife
               ,
               for
               only
               of
               those
            
             
               The
               Stars
               (
               they
               say
               )
               cannot
               dispose
               ,
            
             
               No
               more
               then
               can
               the
               Astrologians
               .
            
             
               There
               they
               say
               right
               ,
               &
               like
               true
               Trojans
               .
            
             
               This
               Ralpho
               knew
               ,
               and
               therefore
               took
               ,
            
             
               The
               other
               course
               ,
               of
               which
               we
               spoke
               .
            
             
             
               Thus
               was
               th'
               accomplish'd
               Squire
               endu'd
            
             
               With
               Gifts
               and
               Knowledge
               ,
               per'lous
               shrewd
               ,
            
             
               Never
               did
               trusty
               Squire
               with
               Knight
               ,
            
             
               Or
               Knight
               with
               Squire
               jump
               more
               right
               .
            
             
               Their
               Arms
               and
               Equipage
               did
               fit
               ,
            
             
               As
               well
               as
               Vertues
               ,
               parts
               ,
               and
               wit.
            
             
               Their
               Valours
               too
               were
               of
               a
               Rate
               ,
            
             
               And
               out
               they
               sally'd
               at
               the
               Gate
               ,
            
             
               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
               e'r
               we
               venture
               to
               unfold
            
             
               Atchievements
               so
               resolv'd
               and
               bold
               ,
            
             
               We
               should
               ,
               as
               learned
               Poets
               use
               ,
            
             
               Invoke
               th'
               assistance
               of
               some
               Muse
               ;
            
             
               However
               Criticks
               count
               it
               sillier
            
             
               Then
               Juglers
               talking
               to
               Familiar
               ,
            
             
               We
               think
               't
               is
               no
               great
               matter
               which
               :
            
             
               They
               'r
               all
               alike
               :
               yet
               we
               shall
               pitch
            
             
               On
               one
               that
               fits
               our
               purpose
               most
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               therefore
               thus
               we
               do
               accost
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               that
               with
               Ale
               ,
               or
               viler
               liquors
               ,
            
             
               Didst
               inspire
               
                 Withers
                 ,
                 Pryn
              
               ,
               and
               Vickars
            
             
               And
               force
               them
               ,
               though
               it
               were
               in
               spight
            
             
               Of
               nature
               and
               their
               stars
               to
               write
               ;
            
             
             
               Who
               ,
               as
               we
               find
               in
               sullen
               Writs
               ,
            
             
               And
               cross-grain'd
               works
               of
               modern
               wits
               ,
            
             
               With
               vanity
               ,
               opinion
               ,
               want
               ,
            
             
               The
               wonder
               of
               the
               Ignorant
               ,
            
             
               The
               praises
               of
               the
               Author
               ,
               penn'd
            
             
               By
               himself
               ,
               or
               wit-ensuring
               friend
               ,
            
             
               The
               Itch
               of
               Picture
               in
               the
               Front
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
               spight
               of
               fate
               ,
            
             
               And
               teach
               all
               people
               to
               translate
               ;
            
             
               Though
               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
            
             
               To
               those
               that
               dwell
               therein
               well
               known
               ;
            
             
               Therefore
               there
               needs
               no
               more
               be
               sed
               here
               ,
            
             
               We
               unto
               them
               refer
               our
               Reader
               :
            
             
               For
               brevity
               is
               very
               good
               ,
            
             
               When
               w'
               are
               ,
               or
               are
               not
               understood
               .
            
             
               To
               this
               Town
               People
               did
               repair
            
             
               On
               dayes
               of
               Market
               ,
               or
               of
               Fair
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               crack'd
               Fiddle
               ,
               and
               hoarse
               Tabor
            
             
               In
               merriment
               did
               drudge
               and
               labour
               :
            
             
             
               But
               now
               a
               sport
               more
               formidable
               ,
            
             
               Had
               rak'd
               together
               Village
               rabble
               .
            
             
               '
               I
               was
               an
               old
               way
               of
               Recreating
               ,
            
             
               Which
               learned
               Butchers
               call
               Bearbailing
               :
            
             
               A
               bold
               advent'rous
               exercise
               ,
            
             
               With
               antient
               Hero's
               in
               high
               prize
               ;
            
             
               For
               Authors
               ●…o
               affirm
               it
               came
            
             
               From
               Isthmian
               or
               Nemean
               game
               .
            
             
               Others
               derive
               it
               from
               the
               Bear
            
             
               That
               's
               fixt
               in
               Northern
               Hemisphere
               ,
            
             
               And
               round
               about
               the
               Pole
               does
               make
            
             
               A
               circle
               ,
               like
               a
               Bear
               at
               stake
               ,
            
             
               That
               at
               the
               Chain
               's
               end
               wheels
               about
               ,
            
             
               And
               overturns
               the
               Rabble-ront
               .
            
             
               For
               after
               solemn
               proclamation
            
             
               In
               the
               Beat
               's
               name
               (
               as
               is
               the
               fashion
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               T'
               expose
               themselves
               to
               vain
               Jeopardy
               ;
            
             
               If
               they
               come
               wounded
               off
               and
               lame
               ,
            
             
               No
               honours
               got
               by
               such
               a
               maim
               .
            
             
               Although
               the
               Bear
               gain
               much
               ,
               b'ing
               bound
            
             
               In
               honour
               to
               make
               good
               his
               ground
               ,
            
             
               When
               he
               's
               engag'd
               ,
               and
               take
               no
               notice
               ,
            
             
               If
               any
               press
               upon
               him
               ,
               who
               't
               is
               ,
            
             
             
               But
               let
               them
               know
               at
               their
               own
               cost
            
             
               That
               he
               intends
               to
               keep
               his
               post
               .
            
             
               This
               to
               prevent
               ,
               and
               other
               harms
               ,
            
             
               Which
               alwayes
               waits
               on
               feats
               of
               Arms
               ,
            
             
               (
               For
               in
               the
               hurry
               of
               a
               Fray
            
             
               'T
               is
               hard
               to
               keep
               out
               of
               harm's
               way
               )
            
             
               Thither
               the
               Knight
               his
               course
               did
               stear
               ,
            
             
               To
               keep
               the
               peace
               'twixt
               Dog
               and
               Bear
               ;
            
             
               As
               he
               believ'd
               h'was
               bound
               to
               doe
            
             
               In
               Conscience
               and
               Commission
               too
               .
            
             
               And
               therefore
               thus
               bespoke
               the
               Squire
               ;
            
          
           
             
               We
               that
               are
               wisely
               mounted
               higher
            
             
               Then
               Constables
               ,
               in
               Curule
               wit
               ,
            
             
               When
               on
               Tribunal
               bench
               we
               sit
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Speculators
               ,
               should
               foresee
               ,
            
             
               From
               Pharos
               of
               Authority
               ,
            
             
               Portended
               Mischiefs
               farther
               then
            
             
               Low
               Proletarian
               Tithing-men
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               The
               last
               does
               coincidere
               )
            
             
               
                 Quantum
                 in
                 nobis
              
               ,
               have
               thought
               good
               ,
            
             
               To
               save
               th'
               expence
               of
               Christian
               blood
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               try
               if
               we
               by
               meditation
            
             
               Of
               Treaty
               and
               accommodation
            
             
               Can
               end
               the
               Quarrel
               ,
               and
               compose
            
             
               The
               bloudy
               Duell
               without
               blows
               .
            
             
               Are
               not
               our
               Liberties
               ,
               our
               Lives
               ,
            
             
               The
               Lawes
               ,
               Religion
               ,
               and
               our
               Wives
            
             
               Enough
               at
               once
               to
               lye
               at
               stake
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               There
               is
               a
               Machiavillian
               Plot
               ,
            
             
               (
               Though
               ev'ry
               
                 nave
                 olfact
              
               it
               not
               )
            
             
               A
               deep
               design
               in
               't
               ,
               to
               divide
            
             
               The
               well-affected
               that
               confide
               ,
            
             
               By
               setting
               Brother
               against
               Brother
               ,
            
             
               To
               claw
               and
               curry
               one
               another
               .
            
             
               Have
               we
               not
               enemies
               
                 plus
                 satis
              
               ,
            
             
               That
               
                 Cane
                 &
                 angue
                 pejus
              
               hate
               us
               ?
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               all
               we
               turn
               our
               fangs
               and
               claws
            
             
               Upon
               our
               own
               selves
               ,
               without
               cause
               ?
            
             
               That
               some
               occult
               design
               dothly
            
             
               In
               bloudy
               Cynarctomachy
               ,
            
             
               Is
               plain
               enough
               to
               him
               that
               knows
            
             
               How
               Saints
               sead
               brothers
               by
               the
               nose
               .
            
             
               I
               wish
               myself
               a
               Pseudo-prophet
               ,
            
             
               But
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               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
               ?
            
             
               They
               fight
               for
               no
               espoused
               Cause
               ,
            
             
               Frail
               
                 Priviledge
                 ,
                 Fundamentall
                 Laws
              
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               for
               a
               
                 thorough
                 Reformation
              
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               Covenant
               ,
               nor
               Protestation
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               for
               free
               
                 Liberty
                 of
                 Conscience
              
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               Lords
               and
               Commons
               Ordinances
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               for
               the
               Church
               ,
               nor
               for
               Church-lands
               ,
            
             
               To
               get
               them
               in
               their
               own
               no
               hands
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               
                 evil
                 Counsellours
              
               to
               bring
            
             
               To
               Justice
               that
               seduce
               the
               King
               ;
            
             
               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
            
             
               For
               that
               Church
               suffer'd
               martyrdome
               .
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               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
               then
               so
               .
            
             
             
               But
               we
               ,
               we
               onely
               do
               infuse
            
             
               The
               Rage
               in
               them
               like
               Boute-feus
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               our
               example
               that
               instills
            
             
               In
               them
               th'
               infection
               of
               our
               ills
               ,
            
             
               For
               ,
               as
               some
               late
               Philosophers
            
             
               Have
               well
               observ'd
               ,
               Beasts
               that
               converse
            
             
               With
               Man
               ,
               take
               after
               him
               ,
               as
               Hogs
            
             
               Get
               Pigs
               all
               th'year
               ,
               and
               Bitches
               Dogs
               .
            
             
               Just
               so
               by
               our
               example
               Cattel
            
             
               Learn
               to
               give
               one
               another
               Battel
               .
            
             
               We
               read
               in
               
               Nero's
               time
               ,
               the
               Heathen
               ,
            
             
               When
               they
               destroy'd
               the
               
                 Christian
                 brethren
              
               ,
            
             
               They
               sow'd
               them
               in
               the
               skins
               of
               Bears
               ,
            
             
               And
               then
               set
               Dogs
               about
               their
               ears
               :
            
             
               From
               whence
               ,
               no
               doubt
               ,
               th'
               invention
               came
            
             
               Of
               this
               lewd
               ,
               Antichristian
               Game
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               A
               vile
               Assembly
               't
               is
               ,
               that
               can
            
             
               No
               more
               be
               prov'd
               by
               Scripture
               than
            
             
             
               
                 Provincial
                 ,
                 Classick
                 ,
                 National
              
               ;
            
             
               Mere
               humane
               Creature-cobwebs
               all
               .
            
             
               Thirdly
               ,
               it
               is
               Idolatrous
               .
            
             
               For
               when
               men
               run
               a-whoring
               thus
            
             
               With
               their
               Inventions
               ,
               whatsoe're
            
             
               The
               thing
               be
               ,
               whether
               Dog
               or
               Bear
               ,
            
             
               It
               is
               Idolatrous
               and
               Pagan
               ,
            
             
               No
               less
               then
               worshipping
               of
               Dagon
               .
            
          
           
             
               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
            
             
               
                 Jure
                 Divino
              
               lawfuller
            
             
               Then
               Synods
               are
               ,
               thou
               dost
               deny
               ,
            
             
               
                 Totidem
                 verbis
              
               so
               do
               I
               )
            
             
               Yet
               there
               's
               a
               fallacy
               in
               this
               :
            
             
               For
               if
               by
               sly
               Homoeosis
               ,
            
             
               
                 (
                 Tussis
                 pro
                 crepitu
              
               ,
               an
               Art
            
             
               Under
               a
               Cough
               to
               slur
               a
               Fart
               )
            
             
               Thou
               wouldst
               Sophistically
               imply
            
             
               Both
               are
               unlawfull
               ,
               I
               deny
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               I
               (
               quoth
               Ralpho
               )
               do
               not
               doubt
            
             
               But
               Bear-baiting
               may
               be
               made
               out
            
             
               In
               Gospel-times
               ,
               as
               lawfull
               as
               is
            
             
               Provincial
               or
               
                 Parochial
                 Classis
              
               :
            
             
               And
               that
               both
               are
               so
               near
               of
               kin
               ,
            
             
               And
               like
               in
               all
               ,
               as
               well
               as
               sin
               ,
            
             
             
               ●…hat
               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
               't
               is
               not
               hard
               t'
               imagine
               whether
            
             
               O'
               th
               two
               is
               worst
               ,
               though
               I
               name
               neither
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Hudibras
               ,
               Thou
               offer'st
               much
               ,
            
             
               But
               art
               not
               able
               to
               keep
               touch
               .
            
             
               
                 Mira
                 de
                 lente
              
               ,
               as
               't
               is
               i'
               th'
               Adage
               ,
            
             
               
                 Id
                 est
              
               ,
               to
               make
               a
               Leek
               a
               Cabbage
               .
            
             
               Thou
               wise
               at
               best
               but
               
                 suck
                 a
                 Bull
              
               ,
            
             
               Or
               
                 shear
                 Swine
                 ,
                 All
                 Cry
                 ,
                 and
                 no
                 Wooll
                 .
              
            
             
               For
               what
               can
               Synods
               have
               at
               all
            
             
               With
               Bears
               that
               's
               analogicall
               ?
            
             
               Or
               what
               relation
               has
               debating
            
             
               Of
               Church-Affairs
               with
               Bear-baiting
               ?
            
             
               A
               just
               comparison
               still
               is
               ,
            
             
               Of
               things
               
                 ejusdem
                 generis
              
               .
            
             
               And
               then
               what
               
               Genus
               ●…ightly
               doth
            
             
               Compr'hend
               them
               inclusivè
               both
               ?
            
             
               If
               Animal
               ,
               both
               of
               us
               may
            
             
               As
               likely
               pass
               for
               Bears
               as
               they
               ,
            
             
               For
               we
               are
               Animals
               no
               less
               ,
            
             
               Although
               of
               different
               Speciese●…
               .
            
             
               But
               Ralpho
               ,
               this
               is
               no
               fit
               place
            
             
               Nor
               time
               to
               argue
               our
               the
               Case
               .
            
             
               For
               〈◊〉
               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
               .
            
             
               A
               Controversie
               that
               affords
            
             
               Actions
               for
               Arguments
               ,
               not
               Words
               :
            
             
               Which
               we
               must
               manage
               at
               a
               rate
            
             
               Of
               Prowess
               and
               Conduct
               adaequate
            
             
               To
               what
               our
               place
               and
               fame
               doth
               promise
               ,
            
             
               And
               all
               the
               Godly
               expect
               from
               us
               .
            
             
               Nor
               shall
               they
               be
               deceiv'd
               ,
               unless
            
             
               W'
               are
               slutr'd
               and
               outed
               by
               success
               :
            
             
               Success
               ,
               the
               mark
               no
               mortal
               wit
               ,
            
             
               Or
               surest
               hand
               ,
               can
               always
               hit
               :
            
             
               For
               whatsoe're
               we
               perpetrate
               ,
            
             
               We
               do
               but
               row
               ,
               w'
               are
               stear'd
               by
               fate
               ,
            
             
               Which
               in
               success
               oft
               disinherits
               ,
            
             
               For
               spurious
               causes
               ,
               noblest
               merits
               .
            
             
               Great
               Actions
               are
               not
               always
               true
               sons
            
             
               Of
               great
               and
               mighty
               Resolutions
               :
            
             
               Nor
               do
               the
               bolo'rt
               attempts
               bring
               forth
            
             
               Events
               still
               equal
               to
               their
               worth
               ;
            
             
               But
               sometimes
               fail
               ,
               and
               in
               their
               stead
            
             
               Fortune
               and
               Cowardise
               succeed
               .
            
             
               Yet
               we
               have
               no
               great
               cause
               to
               doubt
               ,
            
             
               Our
               actions
               still
               have
               born
               us
               out
               .
            
             
               Which
               though
               th'
               are
               known
               to
               be
               so
               ample
               ,
            
             
               We
               need
               not
               copy
               from
               example
               ,
            
             
               We
               're
               not
               the
               only
               person
               durst
               ,
            
             
               Attempt
               this
               Province
               ,
               nor
               the
               first
               .
            
             
               In
               Northern
               Clime
               a
               val'rous
               Knight
            
             
               Did
               whilom
               kill
               his
               Bear
               in
               fight
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               wound
               a
               Fidler
               :
               we
               have
               both
            
             
               Of
               these
               the
               objects
               of
               our
               wroth
               ,
            
             
               And
               equal
               fame
               and
               glory
               from
            
             
               Th'
               Attempt
               or
               Victory
               to
               come
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               sung
               ,
               There
               is
               a
               valiant
               Mamaluke
            
             
               In
               foraign
               Land
               ,
               yclep'd
               —
            
             
               To
               whom
               we
               have
               been
               oft
               compar'd
               ,
            
             
               For
               Person
               ,
               Parts
               ,
               Address
               ,
               and
               Beard
               ;
            
             
               Both
               equally
               reputed
               sto●…
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               same
               Cause
               both
               have
               sought
               .
            
             
               He
               oft
               an
               such
               Attempt
               ,
               as
               these
            
             
               Came
               off
               with
               glory
               and
               success
               .
            
             
               Nor
               will
               we
               fail
               in
               th'
               execution
               ,
            
             
               For
               want
               of
               equal
               Resolution
               .
            
             
               Honour
               is
               like
               a
               Widow
               ,
               won
            
             
               With
               bri●…k
               Attempt
               and
               putting
               on
               ;
            
             
               With
               entring
               manfully
               ,
               and
               urging
               ;
            
             
               Not
               slow
               approaches
               ,
               like
               a
               Virgin.
               
            
          
           
             
               This
               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
               ;
            
             
               But
               from
               his
               empty
               stomack
               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
               ,
            
             
               A
               Wight
               bestride
               a
               
                 Common
                 weal
              
               ;
            
             
               While
               still
               the
               more
               he
               kick'd
               &
               spurr'd
               ,
            
             
               The
               less
               the
               sullen
               Jade
               has
               stirr'd
               ,
            
          
        
         
           
           
             
               THE
               ARGUMENT
               OF
               THE
               SECOND
               CANTO
               .
            
             
               
                 The
                 Catalogue
                 and
                 Character
              
               
                 Of
                 th'
                 Enemy's
                 best
                 men
                 of
                 War
                 ;
              
               
                 To
                 whom
                 the
                 Knight
                 does
                 make
                 a
                 speech
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 they
                 defie
                 him
                 :
                 after
                 which
              
               
                 He
                 fights
                 with
                 Talgol
                 ,
                 routs
                 the
                 Bear
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 takes
                 the
                 Fidler
                 Prisoner
                 ;
              
               
                 Conveys
                 him
                 to
                 enchanted
                 Castle
                 ,
              
               
                 Their
                 shuts
                 him
                 fast
                 in
                 Wooden
                 Bastile
                 .
              
            
          
           
             CANTO
             II.
             
          
           
             
               THere
               was
               an
               antient
               sage
               Philosopher
               ,
            
             
               That
               had
               read
               
                 Alexander
                 Ross
              
               over
               ,
            
             
               And
               swore
               the
               world
               as
               he
               could
               prove
               ,
            
             
               Was
               made
               of
               Fighting
               and
               of
               Love
               :
            
             
               Just
               so
               Romances
               are
               ,
               for
               what
               else
            
             
               Is
               in
               them
               all
               ,
               but
               Love
               and
               Battels
               ?
            
             
               O'
               th'
               first
               of
               these
               w'have
               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
               .
            
             
               Certes
               our
               Authors
               are
               to
               blame
               ,
            
             
               For
               to
               make
               some
               well-sounding
               name
            
             
             
               A
               Pattern
               fit
               for
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               ,
            
             
               To
               copy
               out
               in
               Frays
               and
               Fights
               ,
            
             
               (
               Like
               those
               that
               a
               whole
               〈◊〉
               do
               raze●…
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Compos'd
               of
               many
               ingredient
               Valours
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               His
               Wit
               ,
               his
               Beauty
               and
               his
               Spirit
               :
            
             
               As
               if
               just
               so
               much
               he
               enjoy'd
            
             
               As
               in
               another
               is
               destroy'd
               .
            
             
               For
               when
               a
               Gyant
               's
               slain
               in
               fight
               ,
            
             
               And
               mow'd
               orethwart
               ,
               or
               cleft
               downright
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               The
               naked
               truth
               of
               what
               befell
               ;
            
             
               And
               as
               an
               equal
               friend
               to
               both
               .
            
             
               The
               Knight
               and
               Bear
               ,
               but
               more
               to
               Troth
               ,
            
             
               With
               neither
               faction
               shall
               take
               part
               ,
            
             
               But
               give
               to
               cach
               his
               due
               desert
               :
            
             
               And
               never
               coyn
               a
               formal
               lye
               on
               't
               ,
            
             
               To
               make
               the
               Knight
               o'recome
               the
               Giant
               .
            
             
             
               This
               b'ing
               profest
               ,
               we
               hope
               's
               enough
               ,
            
             
               And
               now
               go
               on
               where
               we
               left
               off
               .
            
          
           
             
               They
               rode
               ,
               but
               Authors
               having
               not
            
             
               Determin'd
               whether
               Pace
               or
               Trot
               ,
            
             
               (
               That
               is
               to
               say
               ,
               whether
               Tollutation
               ,
            
             
               As
               they
               do
               tearm
               't
               ,
               or
               Succussation
               )
            
             
               We
               leave
               it
               ,
               and
               go
               on
               ,
               as
               now
            
             
               Suppose
               they
               did
               ,
               no
               matter
               how
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               The
               learned
               hold
               are
               Animals
               :
            
             
               So
               Horses
               they
               affirm
               to
               be
            
             
               Mere
               Engines
               ,
               made
               by
               Geometry
               ,
            
             
               And
               were
               invented
               first
               from
               Engins
               ,
            
             
               As
               
                 Indian
                 Britans
              
               were
               from
               Penguins
               .
            
             
               So
               let
               them
               be
               ;
               and
               ,
               as
               I
               was
               saying
               ,
            
             
               They
               their
               live
               Engines
               ply'd
               ,
               not
               staying
            
             
               Untill
               they
               reach'd
               the
               fatal
               champain
               ,
            
             
               Which
               th'
               Enemy
               did
               then
               incamp
               on
               ,
            
             
               The
               dire
               Pharsalian
               Plain
               ,
               where
               Battel
            
             
               Was
               to
               be
               wag'd
               'twixt
               puissant
               Cattel
               ,
            
             
               And
               fierce
               Auxiliary
               men
               ,
            
             
               That
               came
               to
               aid
               their
               Brethren
               :
            
             
               Who
               now
               began
               to
               draw
               in
               field
               ,
            
             
               As
               Knight
               from
               ridge
               of
               Steed
               beheld
               .
            
             
             
               For
               as
               our
               modern
               wits
               behold
               ,
            
             
               Mounted
               a
               Pick-back
               on
               the
               Old
               ,
            
             
               Much
               further
               off
               ;
               much
               further
               he
            
             
               From
               off
               his
               aged
               Beast
               could
               see
               :
            
             
               Yet
               not
               sufficient
               to
               descry
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               Meanwhile
               he
               stopp'd
               his
               willing
               Steed
               ,
            
             
               To
               fit
               himself
               for
               martial
               deed
               :
            
             
               Both
               kinds
               of
               mettle
               he
               prepar'd
               ,
            
             
               Either
               to
               give
               blows
               ,
               or
               to
               ward
               ,
            
             
               Courage
               and
               steel
               ,
               both
               of
               great
               force
               ,
            
             
               Prepar'd
               for
               better
               or
               for
               worse
               .
            
             
               His
               Death-charg'd
               Pistols
               be
               did
               fit
               well
               ,
            
             
               Drawn
               out
               from
               life-preserving
               vittle
               .
            
             
               These
               being
               prim'd
               ,
               with
               force
               he
               labour'd
            
             
               To
               free
               sword
               from
               retentive
               Scabbard
               :
            
             
               And
               after
               many
               a
               painful
               pluck
               ,
            
             
               From
               rusty
               durance
               he
               bayl'd
               Tuck
               .
            
             
               Then
               shook
               himself
               ,
               to
               see
               that
               Prowess
            
             
               In
               Scabbard
               of
               his
               Arms
               sate
               loose
               ;
            
             
               And
               rais'd
               upon
               his
               desperate
               foot
            
             
               On
               stirrup
               side
               he
               gaz'd
               about
               ,
            
             
               Portending
               Bloud
               ,
               like
               Blazing
               Star
               ,
            
             
               The
               Beacon
               of
               approaching
               War.
            
             
               Ralpho
               rode
               on
               with
               no
               lesse
               speed
               ,
            
             
               Then
               Hugo
               in
               the
               Forrest
               did
               ;
            
             
             
               But
               with
               a
               great
               deal
               more
               return'd
               ,
            
             
               For
               now
               the
               Foe
               he
               had
               discern'd
               ,
            
             
               Rang'd
               ,
               as
               to
               him
               they
               did
               appear
               ,
            
             
               With
               
                 Van
                 ,
                 main
                 Battel
                 ,
                 Wings
                 ,
              
               and
               Rear
               .
            
          
           
             
               In
               th'
               head
               of
               all
               this
               Warlike
               Rabble
            
             
               Crowdero
               march'd
               ,
               expert
               and
               able
               :
            
             
               Instead
               of
               Trumpet
               and
               of
               Drum
               ,
            
             
               That
               makes
               the
               Warrier's
               stomach
               come
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               noise
               whets
               Valour
               sharp
               ,
               like
               Beer
            
             
               By
               thunder
               turn'd
               to
               Vineger
               ,
            
             
               (
               For
               if
               a
               Trumpet
               sound
               or
               Drum
               beat
               ,
            
             
               Who
               has
               not
               a
               〈◊〉
               mind
               to
               combat
               ?
               )
            
             
               A
               squeaking
               Engine
               he
               apply'd
            
             
               Unto
               his
               neck
               ,
               on
               North-east
               side
               ,
            
             
               Just
               where
               the
               Hangman
               does
               dispose
            
             
               To
               special
               friends
               the
               Knot
               of
               Noose
               :
            
             
               For
               't
               is
               
                 great
                 Grace
              
               when
               Statesmen
               straight
            
             
               Dispatch
               a
               friend
               ,
               let
               others
               wait
               .
            
             
               His
               warped
               Ear
               hung
               o're
               the
               strings
               ,
            
             
               Which
               was
               but
               Souce
               to
               Chitterlings
               :
            
             
               For
               Guts
               ,
               some
               write
               ,
               e're
               they
               are
               sodden
               ,
            
             
               Are
               fit
               for
               Musick
               ,
               or
               for
               Pudden
               :
            
             
               From
               whence
               men
               borrow
               ev'ry
               kind
            
             
               Of
               Minstrelsy
               ,
               by
               string
               or
               wind
               .
            
             
               His
               grizly
               Beard
               was
               long
               and
               thick
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               And
               yet
               by
               Authors
               't
               is
               averr'd
               ,
            
             
               He
               made
               use
               onely
               of
               his
               Beard
               .
            
             
               In
               Stassordshire
               ,
               where
               Vertuous
               worch
            
             
               Does
               raise
               the
               Minstrelsy
               ,
               not
               Birth
               ;
            
             
               Where
               Bulls
               do
               chuse
               the
               boldest
               King
            
             
               And
               Ruler
               ,
               o're
               the
               men
               of
               string
               ;
            
             
               〈◊〉
               once
               in
               Persia
               ,
               't
               is
               said
               ,
            
             
               Kings
               were
               proclaim'd
               by
               a
               Horse
               that
               neigh'd
               )
            
             
               He
               bravely
               vent'ring
               at
               a
               Crown
               ,
            
             
               By
               chance
               of
               War
               was
               beaten
               down
               ,
            
             
               And
               wounded
               sore
               :
               his
               Leg
               then
               broke
               ,
            
             
               Had
               got
               a
               Deputy
               of
               Oke
               :
            
             
               For
               when
               a
               shin
               in
               fight
               is
               cropt
               ,
            
             
               The
               knee
               with
               one
               of
               timoer's
               propt
               ;
            
             
               Esteem'd
               more
               honourable
               then
               the
               other
               ,
            
             
               And
               takes
               place
               ,
               though
               the
               younger
               Brother
               .
            
          
           
             
               Next
               follow'd
               Orsin
               ,
               famous
               for
            
             
               Wise
               Conduct
               ,
               and
               successe
               in
               War
               :
            
             
               A
               skilfull
               Leader
               ,
               stout
               ,
               severe
               ,
            
             
               Now
               Marshall
               to
               the
               Champion
               Bear.
            
             
               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
               Emperour
               of
               Pegu
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               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
                 Judgement
              
               ,
               and
               Demurrer
               ,
            
             
               To
               let
               them
               breath
               a
               while
               ,
               and
               then
            
             
               Cry
               whoop
               ,
               and
               set
               them
               on
               agen
               .
            
             
               As
               Romuius
               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
               ;
            
             
               Bred
               up
               ,
               where
               Discipline
               most
               rare
               is
               ,
            
             
               In
               Military
               Garden-Paris
               .
            
             
               For
               Souldiers
               heretofore
               did
               grow
            
             
               In
               Gardens
               ,
               just
               as
               Weeds
               to
               now
               ;
            
             
               Until
               some
               splay
               foot
               Politicians
            
             
               T'
               Apollo
               offer'd
               up
               Petitions
               ,
            
             
               For
               licensing
               a
               new
               invention
            
             
               Th'
               had
               found
               out
               ,
               of
               an
               antique
               engine
            
             
               To
               root
               out
               all
               the
               Weeds
               that
               grow
            
             
               In
               Publick
               Garden
               at
               a
               blow
               ,
            
             
               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
               't
               is
               once
               known
               you
               'l
               say
               'c
               is
               easie
               .
            
             
               Why
               then
               let
               's
               know
               it
               ,
               quoth
               Apollo
               .
            
             
               We
               'l
               beat
               a
               Drum
               ,
               and
               they
               'l
               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
               ;
            
             
               We
               such
               loud
               Musick
               do
               not
               profess
               ,
            
             
               The
               Devil's
               Master
               of
               that
               office
               ,
            
             
               Where
               it
               must
               pass
               ,
               if
               't
               be
               a
               Drum
               ,
            
             
               He
               'l
               sign
               it
               with
               
                 Cler.
                 Parl.
                 Dom.
                 Com.
              
            
             
               To
               him
               apply
               your selves
               ,
               and
               he
            
             
               Will
               soon
               dispatch
               you
               for
               his
               fee.
            
             
               They
               did
               so
               ,
               but
               it
               prov'd
               so
               ill
               ,
            
             
               Th'
               had
               better
               have
               let
               them
               grow
               there
               still
               .
            
             
               But
               to
               resume
               what
               we
               discoursing
            
             
               Were
               on
               before
               ,
               that
               is
               stout
               Orsin
               :
            
             
               That
               which
               so
               oft
               by
               sundry
               Writers
            
             
               Has
               been
               apply'd
               t'
               almost
               all
               fighters
               ,
            
             
               More
               justly
               may
               be
               ascrib'd
               to
               this
               ,
            
             
               Then
               any
               other
               Warriour
               
                 (
                 viz.
              
               )
            
             
               None
               ever
               acted
               both
               parts
               bolder
               ,
            
             
               Both
               of
               a
               Chieftain
               ,
               and
               a
               Souldier
               .
            
             
               He
               was
               of
               great
               descent
               ,
               and
               high
               ,
            
             
               For
               Splendor
               and
               Antiquity
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               Celestial
               origine
            
             
               Deriv'd
               himself
               in
               a
               right
               line
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               Sphere
            
             
               Was
               ●…as
               undoubted
               Ancestor
               :
            
             
               From
               him
               his
               great
               Fore-fathers
               came
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               all
               ages
               bore
               his
               name
               .
            
             
               Learned
               he
               was
               in
               Medc'nal
               Lore
               ,
            
             
               For
               by
               his
               side
               a
               Pouch
               he
               wore
            
             
               Replete
               with
               strange
               Hermetick
               Powder
               ,
            
             
               That
               Wounds
               nine
               miles
               point-blank
               would
            
             
               By
               skilful
               Chymist
               with
               great
               cost
               (
               solder
               .
            
             
               Extracted
               from
               a
               rotten
               Post
               ;
            
             
               But
               of
               a
               heav'nlier
               influence
            
             
               Than
               that
               which
               Mountebanks
               dispense
               ;
            
             
               Though
               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
               ,
            
             
               B'ing
               prudently
               apply'd
               to
               it
               ,
            
             
               Will
               convey
               mischief
               from
               the
               Dung
            
             
               Unto
               the
               Breech
               that
               did
               the
               wrong
               :
            
             
               So
               this
               did
               healing
               ,
               andas
               sure
            
             
               As
               that
               did
               mischief
               ,
               this
               would
               cure
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thus
               vertuous
               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
            
             
               Than
               half
               a
               hundred
               men
               of
               Wa●…
               ;
            
             
               So
               he
               appear'd
               ,
               and
               by
               his
               skill
               ,
            
             
               No
               less
               than
               Dint
               of
               Sword
               ,
               could
               kill
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Gallant
               Bruin
               marcht
               next
               him
               ,
            
             
               With
               Visage
               formidably
               grim
               ,
            
             
               And
               rugged
               as
               a
               Saracen
               ,
            
             
               Or
               Turk
               of
               Mahomet's
               own
               king
            
             
               Clad
               in
               a
               Mantle
               
                 della
                 Guer
              
            
             
               Of
               rough
               impenetrable
               Fur
               ;
            
             
               And
               in
               his
               Nose
               ,
               like
               Indian
               King
               ,
            
             
               He
               wore
               for
               ornament
               a
               Ring
               ;
            
             
               About
               his
               Neck
               a
               three-fold
               Gorget
               ,
            
             
               As
               tough
               as
               trebled
               leathren
               Target
               ;
            
             
               Armed
               ,
               as
               Heraulds
               cant
               ,
               and
               langued
               ,
            
             
               Or
               ,
               as
               the
               Vulgar
               say
               ,
               sharp-fanged
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               Scrimansky
               was
               his
               Cousin-german
               ,
            
             
               With
               whom
               he
               serv'd
               ,
               and
               fed
               on
               Vermin
               :
            
             
             
               And
               when
               they
               fail'd
               he
               'd
               suck
               his
               claws
               ,
            
             
               And
               quarter
               himself
               upon
               his
               paws
               .
            
             
               And
               though
               his
               Country-men
               ,
               the
               Huns
               ,
            
             
               Did
               stew
               their
               meat
               between
               their
               Bums
               ,
            
             
               And
               th'
               Horses
               backs
               o're
               which
               they
               straddle
               ,
            
             
               And
               every
               man
               eat
               up
               his
               Saddle
               :
            
             
               He
               was
               not
               half
               so
               nice
               as
               they
               ,
            
             
               But
               eat
               it
               raw
               ,
               when
               't
               came
               in
               's
               way
               .
            
             
               He
               had
               trac'd
               Countries
               far
               and
               near
               ,
            
             
               More
               then
               
                 Le
                 Blane
              
               the
               Traveller
               ;
            
             
               Who
               writes
               ,
               He
               Spous'd
               in
               India
            
             
               Of
               Noble
               house
               a
               Lady
               gay
               ,
            
             
               And
               got
               on
               her
               a
               race
               of
               Worthies
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               soe
               to
               Cows
               ,
            
             
               Never
               got
               ought
               of
               him
               but
               blows
               ;
            
             
               Blows
               hard
               and
               heavy
               ,
               such
               as
               he
            
             
               Had
               lent
               ,
               repay'd
               with
               Usury
               .
            
          
           
             
               Yet
               Talgol
               was
               of
               Courage
               stour
               ,
            
             
               And
               vanquish'd
               oftner
               then
               he
               fought
            
             
             
               Inur'd
               to
               labour
               ,
               sweat
               ,
               and
               toyle
               ,
            
             
               And
               ,
               like
               a
               Champion
               ,
               shone
               with
               Oyl
               .
            
             
               Right
               many
               a
               Widow
               his
               keen
               blade
               ,
            
             
               And
               many
               Fatherlesse
               ,
               had
               made
               .
            
             
               He
               many
               a
               Boar
               and
               huge
               
                 Dun
                 Cow
              
            
             
               Did
               ,
               like
               another
               Guy
               ,
               o'rethrow
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               Then
               Ajax
               ,
               or
               bold
               
                 Don
                 Quixot
              
               :
            
             
               And
               many
               a
               Serpent
               of
               fell
               kind
               ,
            
             
               With
               wings
               before
               &
               stings
               behind
               ,
            
             
               Subdu'd
               ;
               as
               Poets
               say
               ,
               long
               agon
            
             
               Bold
               
                 Sir
                 George
                 ,
                 St.
                 George
              
               did
               the
               Dragon
               .
            
             
               Nor
               Engine
               ,
               nor
               Device
               Polemick
               ,
            
             
               Disease
               ,
               nor
               Doctor
               Epidemick
               ,
            
             
               Though
               stor'd
               with
               Deletary
               Med'cines
               ,
            
             
               (
               Which
               whosoever
               took
               is
               dead
               since
               )
            
             
               E're
               sent
               so
               vast
               a
               Colony
            
             
               To
               both
               the
               under
               worlds
               as
               he
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               'T
               is
               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
               bungleing
               ,
            
             
             
               Next
               these
               the
               brave
               Magnano
               came
               ,
            
             
               Magnano
               great
               in
               martial
               ●…ame
               .
            
             
               Yet
               when
               with
               Orsin
               he
               wag'd
               fight
               ,
            
             
               'T
               is
               sung
               he
               got
               but
               little
               by
               't
               .
            
             
               Yet
               he
               was
               fierce
               as
               forrest-Bore
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               spoils
               upon
               his
               back
               he
               wore
               ,
            
             
               As
               thick
               as
               Ajax
               sev'n-sold
               Shield
               ,
            
             
               Which
               o're
               his
               brazen
               Arms
               he
               held
               ,
            
             
               But
               Brass
               was
               seeble
               to
               resist
            
             
               The
               sury
               of
               his
               armed
               fist
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               could
               the
               hardest
               Ir'n
               hold
               out
            
             
               Against
               his
               blows
               ,
               but
               they
               would
               through't
            
          
           
             
               In
               Magick
               he
               was
               deeply
               read
               ,
            
             
               As
               he
               that
               made
               the
               Brazen-head
               ;
            
             
               Profoundly
               skill'd
               in
               the
               black
               Art
               ,
            
             
               As
               
                 English
                 Merlin
              
               for
               his
               heart
               ;
            
             
               But
               far
               more
               skilful
               in
               the
               Spheres
               ,
            
             
               Than
               he
               was
               at
               the
               Sieve
               and
               Shears
               .
            
             
               He
               could
               transform
               himself
               in
               colour
            
             
               As
               like
               the
               Devil
               as
               a
               Collier
               :
            
             
               As
               like
               as
               Hypocrites
               in
               shew
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               He
               was
               th'
               Inventer
               of
               ,
               and
               Maker
               :
            
             
               The
               Trumpet
               ,
               and
               the
               
                 Kettle
                 Drum
              
               ,
            
             
               Did
               both
               from
               his
               invention
               come
               .
            
             
             
               He
               was
               the
               first
               that
               〈◊〉
               did
               teach
            
             
               To
               make
               ,
               and
               how
               to
               stop
               a
               breach
               .
            
             
               A
               Launce
               he
               bo●…
               with
               Iron
               .
               pike
               ,
            
             
               Th'
               one
               half
               would
               thrust
               ,
               the
               other
               strike
               :
            
             
               And
               when
               their
               forces
               h●…
               had
               joyn'd
               ,
            
             
               He
               scorn'd
               to
               turn
               his
               Parts
               behind
               .
            
          
           
             
               He
               Trulla
               lov'd
               ,
               Trulla
               more
               bright
            
             
               Then
               burnish'd
               Armour
               of
               her
               Knight
               :
            
             
               A
               bold
               Virago
               ,
               stout
               and
               tall
            
             
               As
               Joan
               of
               France
               ,
               or
               
                 English
                 Mall
              
               .
            
             
               Through
               〈◊〉
               both
               of
               Wind
               and
               Limb
               ,
            
             
               Through
               thick
               &
               thin
               she
               follow'd
               him
               ,
            
             
               In
               ev'ry
               Adventure
               h'
               undertook
               ,
            
             
               And
               never
               him
               or
               it
               forsook
               .
            
             
               At
               breach
               of
               Wall
               ,
               or
               Hedge-surprize
               ,
            
             
               She
               shar'd
               in
               th'hazard
               ,
               and
               the
               prize
               :
            
             
               At
               beating
               quarters
               up
               ,
               or
               forrage
               ,
            
             
               Behav'd
               her self
               with
               matchless
               courage
               ;
            
             
               And
               laid
               about
               in
               fight
               more
               busily
               ,
            
             
               Thenth
               '
               Amazo●…in
               Dame
               ,
               Penthesile
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               though
               some
               Criticks
               here
               cry
               shame
               ,
            
             
               And
               say
               our
               Authors
               are
               to
               blame
               ,
            
             
               That
               (
               spight
               of
               〈◊〉
               Philosophers
               ,
            
             
               Who
               hold
               no
               females
               sto●…
               ,
               but
               Bears
               .
               )
            
             
               Make
               feeble
               Ladies
               ,
               in
               their
               works
               ,
            
             
               To
               fight
               like
               Ter●…gants
               and
               Turks
               ;
            
             
               To
               lay
               their
               native
               Arms
               aside
               .
            
             
               Their
               modesty
               ,
               and
               ride
               a-stride
               ;
            
             
             
               To
               run
               a
               〈◊〉
               at
               men
               ,
               and
               wield
            
             
               Their
               naked
               tools
               in
               open
               field
               ;
            
             
               As
               stout
               Armida
               ,
               bold
               Thalestris
               ,
            
             
               And
               she
               that
               would
               have
               been
               the
               Mistress
            
             
               Of
               Gundibert
               ,
               but
               he
               had
               grace
               ,
            
             
               And
               rather
               took
               a
               Country
               Lass
               :
            
             
               They
               say'tis
               salse
               ,
               without
               all
               sense
               ,
            
             
               But
               of
               petnicious
               consequence
            
             
               To
               Government
               ,
               which
               they
               suppose
            
             
               Can
               never
               be
               upheld
               in
               prose
               :
            
             
               Strip
               Nature
               naked
               to
               the
               skin
               ,
            
             
               You
               'r
               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
               have
               seen
               't
               ,
            
             
               Or
               ,
               what
               's
               as
               good
               ,
               produc'd
               in
               print
            
             
               And
               if
               they
               will
               not
               take
               our
               word
               ,
            
             
               We
               'l
               prove
               it
               true
               upon
               record
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               upright
               Cerdon
               next
               advanc't
               ,
            
             
               Of
               all
               his
               Race
               the
               Valiant'st
               ;
            
             
               Cerdon
               the
               Great
               ,
               renown'd
               in
               Song
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Herc'les
               ,
               for
               repair
               of
               wrong
               :
            
             
               He
               rais'd
               the
               low
               ,
               and
               fortisy'd
            
             
               The
               weak
               against
               the
               strongest
               side
               .
            
             
               Ill
               has
               he
               read
               ;
               that
               never
               hit
            
             
               On
               him
               in
               Muses
               deathless
               writ
               .
            
             
               He
               had
               a
               weapon
               keen
               and
               fierce
               ,
            
             
               That
               through
               a
               Bull-hide-shield
               would
               pierce
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               pieces
               ,
            
             
               Though
               〈◊〉
               than
               〈◊〉
               Knight
               of
               Greece
               his
               ;
            
             
               With
               when
               his
               black
               thumb'd
               Ancestor
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               in
               the
               ten
               years
               war
               :
            
             
               For
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               Greeks
               ,
               sare
               down
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               before
               Troy
               sown
               ,
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               ●…nown'd
               ,
               as
               Homer
               writes
               ,
            
             
               For
               〈◊〉
               Boots
               ,
               no
               less
               than
               sights
               :
            
             
               They
               ow'd
               that
               glo●…
               only
               to
            
             
               His
               Ancestor
               that
               made
               them
               so
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               he
               was
               to
               Reformation
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               't
               was
               worn
               quite
               out
               of
               fashion
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               of
               Wry
               Law
               ,
            
             
               And
               would
               make
               〈◊〉
               ,
               to
               c●…re
               one
               flaw
               .
            
             
               Learned
               he
               was
               ,
               and
               could
               take
               note
               ,
            
             
               Transcribe
               ,
               collect
               ,
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               and
               quote
               ,
            
             
               But
               Preaching
               was
               his
               chiefest
               Talent
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               ,
               in
               which
               ●…ng
               valiant
               ,
            
             
               He
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               about
               ,
               and
               〈◊〉
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Run
               or
               Bulls
               at
               〈◊〉
            
             
               
               ,
            
             
               Do
               〈◊〉
               with
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               from
               Skulls
               .
            
          
           
             
               
               ,
            
             
               
            
             
               
               .
            
             
               
               ,
            
             
               
            
             
               
            
             
             
               Some
               other
               Knights
               ,
               was
               true
               of
               this
               ,
            
             
               He
               and
               his
               Horse
               were
               of
               a
               piece
               ,
            
             
               One
               Spirit
               did
               inform
               them
               both
               ,
            
             
               The
               self-same
               vigor
               ,
               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
               mans
               flesh
               ,
               as
               fame
               goes
               .
            
             
               Strange
               food
               for
               horse
               !
               and
               yet
               ,
               alass
               !
            
             
               It
               may
               be
               true
               ,
               for
               
                 flesh
                 is
                 grass
              
               .
            
             
               Sturdy
               he
               was
               ,
               and
               no
               less
               able
               ,
            
             
               Then
               Hercules
               to
               clense
               a
               Stable
               ;
            
             
               As
               great
               :
               Drover
               ,
               and
               as
               great
            
             
               A
               Critick
               too
               in
               Hog
               or
               Neat
               ,
            
             
               He
               ripp'd
               the
               womb
               up
               of
               his
               Mother
               ,
            
             
               Dune
               Tellus
               ,
               'cause
               she
               wanted
               Fother
               .
            
             
               And
               Provender
               ,
               wherewith
               to
               feed
            
             
               Himself
               ,
               and
               his
               less
               cruel
               Steed
               .
            
          
           
             
               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
            
             
               The
               bus'ness
               on
               the
               Horse's
               side
               ,
            
             
               And
               prov'd
               not
               only
               Horse
               ,
               bur
               Cows
               ,
            
             
               Nay
               Pigs
               ,
               were
               of
               the
               elder
               house
               :
            
             
               For
               beasts
               ,
               when
               man
               was
               but
               a
               piece
            
             
               Of
               ea●…h
               himself
               ,
               did
               th'
               earth
               possess
               .
            
             
             
               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
            
             
               Of
               several
               Countries
               round
               about
               ;
            
             
               From
               Villages
               remote
               ,
               and
               Shires
               ,
            
             
               Of
               East
               and
               Western
               Hemispheres
               :
            
             
               From
               foraign
               Parishes
               ,
               and
               Regions
               ,
            
             
               Of
               different
               manners
               ,
               speech
               ,
               Religions
               ,
            
             
               Came
               men
               and
               mastives
               ;
               some
               to
               fight
            
             
               For
               fame
               and
               honour
               ,
               some
               for
               sight
            
             
               And
               now
               the
               field
               of
               death
               ,
               the
               lists
               ,
            
             
               Were
               entred
               by
               Antagonists
               ,
            
             
               And
               blood
               was
               ready
               to
               be
               broached
               ;
            
             
               When
               Hudibras
               in
               haste
               approached
               ,
            
             
               With
               Squire
               ,
               and
               weapons
               to
               attack
               them
               :
            
             
               But
               first
               thus
               from
               his
               Horse
               bespake
               them
               .
            
          
           
             
               What
               Rage
               O
               Citizens
               ,
               what
               fury
            
             
               Doth
               you
               to
               these
               dire
               actions
               hurry
               ;
            
             
               What
               Oestrum
               ,
               what
               phrenetick
               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
            
             
               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
               ?
            
             
               The
               Cause
               ,
               for
               which
               we
               fought
               ,
               and
               swore
            
             
               So
               boldly
               ,
               shall
               we
               now
               give
               o're
               ?
            
             
               Then
               because
               Quarrels
               still
               are
               seen
            
             
               With
               Oaths
               and
               Sweating
               to
               begin
               ,
            
             
               The
               Solemn
               League
               and
               Covenant
               ,
            
             
               Will
               seem
               a
               meet
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               Martyre
               ,
            
             
               Wore
               in
               their
               hats
               like
               wedding-garters
               ,
            
             
               When
               't
               was
               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
            
             
               Joyn
               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
               ,
            
             
               When
               Tinkers
               baw'd
               aloud
               ,
               to
               settle
            
             
               Church-Discipline
               ,
               or
               patching
               Kettle
            
             
               No
               
                 Sow
                 gelder
              
               did
               blow
               his
               horn
            
             
               To
               get
               a
               ●a●
               ,
               but
               cry'd
               Reform
               .
            
             
               The
               Oyster-women
               lock'd
               their
               fish
               up
               ,
            
             
               And
               trudg'd
               away
               to
               cry
               
                 No
                 Bishop
              
               .
            
             
               The
               
                 Mouse-trap
                 men
              
               laid
               Save-alls
               by
               ,
            
             
               And
               gainst
               Ev'l
               Counsellours
               did
               cry
               .
            
             
               B●●chers
               left
               old
               cloaths
               in
               the
               lurch
               .
            
             
               And
               fell
               to
               turn
               and
               patch
               the
               Church
               .
            
             
               Some
               cry'd
               the
               Covenant
               instead
            
             
               Of
               Pudding
               Pics
               ,
               and
               Ginger-Bread
            
             
               And
               some
               for
               Broom
               ,
               
                 old
                 Boots
                 and
                 Shooes
              
               ,
            
             
               Cry'd
               out
               to
               
                 purge
                 the
                 Commons
                 House
              
               :
            
             
               Instead
               of
               Kitchin-s●uff
               ,
               some
               〈◊〉
               ,
            
             
               A
               〈◊〉
               preaching-Ministry
               ;
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               Old
               s●i●●
               Coats
               ,
               or
               Cloak
               ,
            
             
               No
               ●uplicer
               ,
               nor
               Service
               book
               ;
            
             
               A
               〈◊〉
               harmoni●●
               in●●●●●●on
            
             
               O
               ●all
               dog
               〈◊〉
               in
               〈◊〉
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               this
               All
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               these
               ●
            
             
               〈…〉
            
             
               〈…〉
            
             
               A
               〈…〉
            
             
               〈…〉
            
             
               D●●
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               b●i●g
               in
               their
               Pla●e
               ,
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               they
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               ?
            
             
             
               For
               when
               they
               thought
               the
               Cause
               had
               need
               on
               't
               ,
            
             
               Happy
               was
               he
               that
               could
               be
               rid
               on'r
               .
            
             
               Did
               they
               coyn
               
                 Piss-pots
                 ,
                 Bowls
              
               ,
               and
               Flaggons
               ,
            
             
               Int
               '
               Officers
               of
               Horse
               and
               Dragoons
               ;
            
             
               And
               into
               Pikes
               and
               Musketiers
            
             
               Stamp
               
                 Beakers
                 ,
                 Cups
              
               ,
               and
               Porringers
               ?
            
             
               A
               
                 Thimble
                 ,
                 Bodkin
              
               ,
               and
               a
               Spoon
            
             
               Did
               start
               up
               living
               men
               ,
               as
               soon
            
             
               As
               in
               the
               Furnace
               they
               were
               thrown
               ,
            
             
               Just
               like
               the
               
                 Dragons
                 teeth
              
               b'ing
               sown
               .
            
             
               Then
               was
               the
               Cause
               all
               Gold
               and
               Plate
               ,
            
             
               The
               Brethrens
               off'tings
               ,
               consecrate
            
             
               Like
               the
               Hebrew-calf
               ,
               and
               down
               before
               it
            
             
               The
               Saints
               sell
               prostrate
               ,
               to
               adore
               it
               .
            
             
               So
               say
               the
               Wicked
               —
               and
               will
               you
            
             
               Make
               that
               Sarcasmous
               Scandal
               true
               ,
            
             
               By
               running
               after
               Dogs
               and
               Bears
               ,
            
             
               Beasts
               more
               unclean
               then
               Calves
               or
               Steers
               ?
            
             
               Have
               
                 Pow'rfull
                 Preachers
              
               ply'd
               their
               tongues
               ,
            
             
               And
               laid
               themselves
               out
               and
               their
               lungs
               ;
            
             
               Us'd
               all
               means
               ,
               both
               direct
               and
               sinister
               ,
            
             
               I'
               th'
               power
               of
               
                 Gospel-preaching
                 Minister
              
               ,
            
             
               Have
               they
               invented
               Tones
               ,
               to
               win
            
             
               The
               Women
               ,
               and
               make
               them
               draw
               in
            
             
               The
               men
               ,
               as
               Indians
               with
               a
               female
            
             
               〈◊〉
               Elephant
               ,
               inveigle
               the
               male
               ?
            
             
               Have
               they
               told
               Prov'dence
               what
               it
               must
               do
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               to
               avoid
               ,
               and
               whom
               to
               trust
               to
               ?
            
             
               Disc●…r'd
               th'
               
               Enemy's
               design
               ,
            
             
               And
               which
               way
               best
               to
               countermine
               ;
            
             
             
               Prescrib'd
               what
               way
               is
               it
               hath
               to
               work
               ,
            
             
               Or
               it
               will
               ne're
               advance
               the
               Kirk
               ;
            
             
               Told
               it
               the
               News
               o'
               th'
               last
               expresse
               ,
            
             
               And
               after
               good
               or
               bad
               successe
            
             
               Made
               Prayers
               ,
               not
               so
               like
               Petitions
               ,
            
             
               As
               Overtures
               and
               Propositions
               ,
            
             
               (
               Such
               as
               the
               Army
               did
               present
            
             
               To
               their
               Creator
               th'
               Parliament
               )
            
             
               In
               which
               they
               freely
               will
               confess
               ,
            
             
               They
               will
               not
               ,
               cannot
               acquiesce
               ,
            
             
               Unlesse
               the
               Work
               be
               carry'd
               on
            
             
               In
               the
               same
               way
               they
               have
               begun
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               To
               't
               self
               ,
               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
               :
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ?
            
             
               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
               ?
            
             
               What
               will
               Malignants
               say
               ?
               Videlicet
               ,
            
             
               That
               each
               man
               swore
               to
               do
               his
               best
               ,
            
             
               To
               damn
               and
               periure
               all
               the
               rest
               ;
            
             
               And
               bid
               
                 the
                 Devil
                 take
                 the
                 hinmost
              
               ,
            
             
               Which
               at
               this
               Race
               is
               like
               to
               win
               most
               .
            
             
               They
               'l
               say
               our
               businesse
               to
               reform
            
             
               The
               Church
               and
               State
               ,
               is
               but
               a
               worm
               ;
            
             
               For
               to
               transcribe
               a
               Church
               invisible
               ,
            
             
               As
               we
               have
               sworn
               to
               do
               ,
               it
               is
               a
               bull
               :
            
             
               For
               when
               we
               swore
               to
               do
               it
               after
            
             
               
                 The
                 best
                 reformed
                 Churches
              
               that
               are
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
             
               If
               we
               per●…t
               men
               to
               run
               headlong
            
             
               T'
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               fit
               for
               Bedlam
               ,
            
             
               Rather
               then
               Gospel-walking
               times
               ,
            
             
               When
               〈◊〉
               sins
               are
               greatest
               Crimes
               ,
            
             
               But
               we
               the
               matter
               so
               shall
               handle
               ,
            
             
               As
               to
               remove
               that
               odious
               scandal
               .
            
             
               
                 In
                 name
                 of
                 King
                 and
                 Parliament
                 ,
              
            
             
               I
               charge
               ve
               all
               ,
               no
               more
               soment
            
             
               This
               seud
               ,
               but
               keep
               the
               peace
               between
            
             
               Your
               〈◊〉
               ,
               and
               your
               Country-man
               ;
            
             
               And
               to
               those
               places
               streight
               repair
               ,
            
             
               Where
               your
               respective
               dwellings
               are
               ,
            
             
               But
               to
               that
               purpose
               first
               surrender
            
             
               The
               Fidle
               ,
               as
               the
               prime
               offender
               ,
            
             
               Th'
               incen●…y
               vile
               ,
               that
               is
               chief
            
             
               Author
               and
               Engineer
               of
               mischief
               ;
            
             
               That
               makes
               division
               between
               friends
               ,
            
             
               For
               pro●…●…nd
               meligliant
               ends
               .
            
             
               He
               and
               that
               Engine
               of
               vile
               noyse
               ,
            
             
               On
               which
               illegally
               he
               playes
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               
                 (
                 did
                 〈◊〉
              
               )
               both
               be
               brought
            
             
               
                 To
                 〈◊〉
                 〈◊〉
              
               ,
               as
               th'
               ought
               .
            
             
               This
               must
               be
               done
               ,
               and
               I
               would
               〈◊〉
               see
            
             
               Mortal
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               as
               to
               gun-say
               :
            
             
               For
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               another
               course
               ,
            
             
               And
               soon
               Reduce
               you
               all
               by
               force
               .
            
             
               Th●…
               said
               ,
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               his
               hand
               on
               Sword
               ,
            
             
               To
               show
               〈◊〉
               to
               keep
               his
               word
               .
            
             
             
               But
               Talgol
               ,
               who
               had
               long
               supprest
            
             
               Enflamed
               wrath
               in
               glowing
               breast
               ,
            
             
               Which
               now
               began
               to
               rage
               and
               burn
               as
            
             
               Implacably
               as
               flame
               in
               Furnace
               ,
            
             
               Thus
               answer'd
               him
               .
               Thou
               Vermin
               wretched
               ,
            
             
               As
               e're
               in
               Meazel'd
               Pork
               was
               hatched
               ;
            
             
               Thou
               Tayle
               of
               Worship
               ,
               that
               dost
               grow
            
             
               On
               Rump
               of
               Justice
               ,
               as
               of
               Cow
               ;
            
             
               How
               dat'st
               thoy
               with
               that
               sullen
               Luggage
            
             
               O'
               thy
               self
               ,
               old
               〈◊〉
               ,
               and
               other
               Baggage
               ,
            
             
               With
               which
               thy
               Steed
               of
               Bones
               and
               Leather
               ,
            
             
               Is
               lam'd
               and
               tir'd
               in
               halting
               hither
               ;
            
             
               How
               durst
               th'
               ,
               I
               say
               ,
               adventure
               thus
            
             
               T'
               oppose
               thy
               Lumber
               against
               us
               ?
            
             
               Could
               thin●…
               Impertinence
               find
               out
            
             
               No
               work
               ●…employ
               it self
               about
               ,
            
             
               Where
               thou
               secure
               from
               wooden
               blow
            
             
               Thy
               busie
               vanity
               might'st
               show
               ?
            
             
               Was
               no
               dispute
               afoot
               between
            
             
               The
               
                 Catterwauling
                 Brethren
              
               ?
            
             
               No
               subtle
               Question
               rais'd
               among
            
             
               Those
               out-o-their-wits
               ,
               and
               those
               i'
               ch'
               wrong
               ?
            
             
               No
               prize
               between
               those
               Combatants
            
             
               O'
               th
               times
               ,
               the
               Land
               and
               Water
               -
               Saints
               ;
            
             
               Where
               thou
               might'st
               
                 stickle
                 without
                 hazzard
              
            
             
               Of
               outrage
               to
               thy
               hide
               and
               mazzard
               ,
            
             
               And
               not
               for
               want
               of
               bus'nesse
               come
            
             
               To
               us
               to
               be
               thus
               troublesome
               ,
            
             
               To
               interrupt
               our
               better
               〈◊〉
            
             
               Of
               Disputants
               ,
               and
               spoil
               our
               sport
               ?
            
             
             
               Was
               there
               no
               Felony
               ,
               no
               Bawd
               ,
            
             
               Cut-purse
               ,
               nor
               Burglary
               abroad
               ?
            
             
               No
               
                 Stollen
                 Pig
              
               ,
               nor
               
                 Plunder'd
                 Goose
              
               ,
            
             
               To
               tye
               thee
               up
               from
               breaking
               loose
               ?
            
             
               No
               Ale
               unlicen'd
               ,
               broken
               hedge
               ,
            
             
               For
               which
               thou
               Statute
               might'st
               alledge
               ,
            
             
               To
               keep
               thee
               busie
               from
               foul
               evil
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               To
               cheat
               with
               Holinesse
               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'nesse
               any
               whither
               ,
            
             
               So
               he
               had
               never
               brought
               thee
               hither
               .
            
             
               But
               if
               th'
               hast
               Brain
               enough
               in
               Skull
            
             
               To
               keep
               it self
               in
               lodging
               whole
               ,
            
             
               And
               not
               provoke
               the
               rage
               of
               Stores
               ,
            
             
               And
               Cudgels
               to
               thy
               Hide
               and
               Bones
               ;
            
             
               Tremble
               ,
               and
               vanish
               while
               thou
               may'st
               ,
            
             
               Which
               I
               'le
               not
               promise
               if
               thou
               stay'st
               .
            
          
           
             
               At
               this
               the
               Knight
               grew
               high
               in
               wroth
               ,
            
             
               And
               lifting
               hands
               and
               
                 eyes
                 up
              
               both
               ,
            
             
               Three
               times
               he
               smore
               on
               stomack
               stour
               ,
            
             
               From
               whence
               at
               length
               these
               words
               broke
               out
               .
            
             
             
               Was
               I
               for
               this
               entitled
               Sir
               ,
            
             
               And
               girt
               with
               trusty
               Sword
               and
               Spur
               ,
            
             
               For
               fame
               and
               honour
               to
               wage
               Battel
               ,
            
             
               Thus
               to
               be
               brav'd
               by
               foe
               to
               Cattel
               ?
            
             
               Not
               all
               the
               Pride
               that
               makes
               thee
               swell
            
             
               As
               big
               as
               thou
               dost
               blown-up
               Veal
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               all
               thy
               tricks
               and
               slights
               to
               cheat
               ,
            
             
               And
               sell
               thy
               Carrion
               for
               good
               meat
               ;
            
             
               Not
               all
               thy
               Magick
               to
               repair
            
             
               Decay'd
               old
               age
               in
               rough
               lean
               ware
               ,
            
             
               Turn
               Death
               of
               Nature
               to
               thy
               work
               ,
            
             
               And
               stop
               the
               Gangrene
               in
               stale
               Pork
               ;
            
             
               Not
               all
               that
               force
               that
               makes
               thee
               proud
               ,
            
             
               Because
               by
               Bullock
               ne're
               withstood
               ;
            
             
               Though
               arm'd
               with
               all
               thy
               Clevers
               ,
               Knives
               ,
            
             
               And
               Axe●…
               ,
               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
               ,
            
             
               For
               civil
               deed
               and
               military
               .
            
             
               Nor
               shall
               these
               words
               of
               Venom
               base
               ,
            
             
               Which
               thou
               hast
               from
               their
               native
               place
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               stomack
               ,
               pump'd
               to
               sling
               on
               me
               ,
            
             
               Go
               unteverg'd
               ,
               though
               I
               am
               free
               .
            
             
               Thou
               down
               the
               same
               throat
               shalt
               devour
               'em
               ,
            
             
               Like
               tainted
               Beef
               ,
               and
               pay
               dear
               sor
               '
               em
               .
            
             
               Nor
               shall
               it
               e're
               be
               said
               ,
               that
               wight
            
             
               With
               Gantlet
               blew
               ,
               and
               Bases
               white
               ,
            
             
               And
               round
               blunt
               Dudgeon
               by
               his
               side
               ,
            
             
               So
               great
               a
               man
               at
               Arms
               defy'd
            
             
             
               With
               words
               far
               bi●…er
               then
               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
               .
            
             
               This
               said
               ,
               with
               hasty
               rage
               he
               snatch'd
            
             
               His
               Gun-shot
               ,
               that
               in
               Holsters
               watch'd
               ;
            
             
               And
               bending
               Cock
               ,
               he
               level'd
               full
            
             
               Against
               th'
               outside
               of
               
               Talgol's
               Skull
               ;
            
             
               Vowing
               that
               he
               should
               ne're
               stir
               further
               ,
            
             
               Not
               henceforth
               Cow
               or
               Bullock
               murther
               .
            
             
               But
               Pallas
               came
               in
               shape
               of
               Rust
               ,
            
             
               And
               'twixt
               the
               Spring
               and
               Hammer
               thrnst
            
             
               Her
               
               Gorgon-shield
               ,
               which
               made
               the
               Cock
            
             
               Stand
               stiff
               as
               't
               were
               transform'd
               to
               stock
               .
            
             
               Mean
               while
               fierce
               Talgol
               garh'ring
               might
               ,
            
             
               With
               rugged
               Trunche
               on
               smote
               at
               Knight
               .
            
             
               But
               he
               with
               Petronel
               up-heav'd
               ,
            
             
               Instead
               of
               shield
               ,
               the
               blow
               receiv'd
               ,
            
             
               The
               Gun
               recoyl'd
               ,
               as
               well
               it
               might
               ,
            
             
               Not
               us'd
               to
               such
               a
               kind
               of
               sight
               ,
            
             
               And
               shrunk
               from
               its
               great
               Masters
               gripe
               ,
            
             
               Knock'd
               down
               and
               st●…'d
               with
               mortal
               stripe
               ,
            
             
               Then
               Hudibras
               with
               furious
               haste
            
             
               Drew
               out
               his
               Sword
               ;
               yet
               not
               so
               fast
               ,
            
             
               But
               Telgol
               first
               with
               hardy
               thwack
               ,
            
             
               Twice
               b●…iz'd
               his
               head
               ,
               and
               twice
               his
               back
               .
            
             
               But
               when
               his
               rugge
               〈◊〉
               was
               out
            
             
               With
               stomack
               〈◊〉
               he
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               ,
            
             
               Imprinting
               many
               a
               wound
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
            
             
               His
               mortal
               〈◊〉
               the
               〈◊〉
            
             
             
               The
               trusty
               Cudgel
               did
               oppose
            
             
               It self
               against
               dead-doing
               blows
               ,
            
             
               To
               guard
               its
               Leader
               from
               fell
               bane
               ,
            
             
               And
               then
               reveng'd
               it self
               again
               .
            
             
               And
               though
               the
               sword
               (
               some
               understood
               )
            
             
               In
               force
               had
               much
               the
               odds
               of
               wood
               ;
            
             
               'T
               was
               nothing
               so
               ,
               both
               sides
               were
               ballanc't
            
             
               So
               equal
               ,
               none
               knew
               which
               was
               valiant'st
               ,
            
             
               For
               wood
               with
               honour
               b'ing
               engag'd
               ,
            
             
               Is
               so
               implacably
               enrag'd
               ,
            
             
               Though
               Iron
               hew
               and
               mangle
               sore
               ,
            
             
               Wood
               wounds
               &
               bruises
               honour
               more
               .
            
             
               And
               now
               both
               Knights
               were
               out
               of
               breath
               ,
            
             
               Tir'd
               in
               the
               hot
               pursuit
               of
               death
               ;
            
             
               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
            
             
               One
               body
               ,
               and
               that
               into
               one
               blow
               .
            
             
               But
               Talgol
               wisely
               avoided
               it
            
             
               ●…y
               cunning
               sleight
               ;
               for
               had
               it
               hit
            
             
               The
               upper
               part
               of
               him
               ,
               the
               blow
            
             
               Had
               slit
               ,
               as
               sure
               as
               that
               below
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               now
               fierce
               Colon
               'gan
               draw
               on
               ,
            
             
               To
               aid
               the
               distrest
               Champion
               .
            
             
               Him
               Ralph
               encountred
               ,
               and
               straight
               grew
            
             
               A
               dismal
               Combat
               'twixt
               them
               two
               :
            
             
             
               Th'
               one
               arm'd
               with
               mettle
               ,
               th'
               other
               wood
               ;
            
             
               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
               cold
               divine
            
             
               To
               which
               side
               conquest
               would
               encline
               :
            
             
               Until
               Magnano
               ,
               who
               did
               envy
            
             
               That
               two
               should
               with
               so
               many
               men
               vye
               ,
            
             
               By
               subtle
               s●…ratagem
               of
               brain
               ,
            
             
               Perform'd
               what
               force
               could
               ne're
               attain
               .
            
             
               For
               he
               ,
               by
               soul
               hap
               having
               found
            
             
               Where
               Thistle
               grew
               on
               barren
               ground
               ,
            
             
               Her
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               underneath
               the
               Tail
            
             
               Of
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               as
               sharp
               as
               nail
               .
            
             
               The
               angry
               beast
               did
               straight
               esent
               ,
            
             
               And
               feel
               regret
               on
               fundament
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               to
               kick
               ,
               and
               fling
               ,
               and
               wince
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               h'
               had
               been
               beside
               his
               sense
               ,
            
             
               Striving
               to
               dis-engage
               from
               thistle
               ,
            
             
               That
               gall'd
               him
               sorely
               under
               his
               tail
               .
            
             
               Instead
               of
               which
               he
               threw
               the
               pack
            
             
               Of
               Squire
               ,
               and
               baggage
               from
               his
               back
               ;
            
             
               And
               blundring
               still
               ,
               with
               smarting
               rump
               ,
            
             
               He
               gave
               the
               
               Knight's
               Steed
               such
               a
               thump
               ,
            
             
               As
               made
               him
               feel
               .
               The
               Knight
               did
               stoop
               ,
            
             
               And
               sate
               on
               further
               side
               a
               slope
               .
            
             
               This
               Talgol
               viewing
               ,
               who
               had
               now
            
             
               By
               slight
               ●…eap'd
               the
               fatal
               blow
               ,
            
             
               He
               rally'd
               ,
               and
               again
               fell
               to
               't
               ;
            
             
               〈◊〉
               catching
               ice
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
               ours
               fat'd
               as
               well
            
             
               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
               rag'd
               ,
               and
               flung
               about
               ,
            
             
               To
               shake
               of
               bondage
               from
               his
               snour
               .
            
             
               His
               wrath
               enflam'd
               ,
               boil'd
               o're
               ,
               &
               from
            
             
               His
               jaws
               of
               death
               he
               threw
               the
               foam
               .
            
             
               Fury
               in
               stranger
               postures
               threw
               him
               ,
            
             
               And
               more
               ,
               than
               ever
               He
               rauld
               drew
               him
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               serv'd
               with
               loss
               of
               blood
               so
               long
               ,
            
             
               Should
               offer
               such
               inhumane
               wrong
               ;
            
             
               Wrong
               of
               unsouldier-like
               condition
               :
            
             
               For
               which
               he
               flung
               down
               his
               Commission
               ,
            
             
               And
               laid
               about
               him
               ,
               till
               his
               nose
               ,
            
             
               From
               thrall
               of
               ring
               and
               cord
               broke
               loose
               .
            
             
               Soon
               as
               he
               sel
               himself
               enlarg'd
               ,
            
             
               Through
               thickest
               of
               his
               foes
               he
               charg'd
               ,
            
             
               And
               made
               way
               through
               th'
               amazed
               crew
               .
            
             
               Some
               he
               o'reran
               ,
               and
               some
               o'rethrew
               ,
            
             
               But
               took
               none
               ,
               for
               by
               hasty
               flight
            
             
               He
               strove
               t'
               escape
               pursu'e
               of
               Knight
               ,
            
             
               From
               whom
               he
               fled
               with
               as
               much
               haste
               ,
            
             
               And
               dread
               ,
               as
               he
               th●…
               Rabble
               chas'd
               .
            
             
               In
               hast
               he
               fled
               ,
               and
               so
               did
               they
               ,
            
             
               Each
               and
               his
               fear
               a
               sev'ral
               way
               .
            
          
           
             
               Crowdero
               only
               kept
               the
               field
               ,
            
             
               Not
               stir●…g
               from
               the
               place
               he
               held
               ,
            
             
               Though
               beaten
               down
               ,
               and
               wounded
               sore
               ,
            
             
               I'
               th'
               Fiddle
               ,
               and
               a
               Leg
               that
               bore
            
             
               One
               side
               of
               him
               ,
               not
               that
               of
               bone
               ,
            
             
               But
               ,
               much
               its
               betters
               ,
               th'
               wooden
               one
               .
            
             
               He
               spying
               Hudibras
               lye
               strow'd
            
             
               Upon
               the
               ground
               ,
               like
               log
               of
               wood
               ,
            
             
             
               With
               fright
               of
               fall
               ,
               supposed
               wound
               ,
            
             
               And
               loss
               of
               Urine
               ,
               cast
               in
               swound
               ;
            
             
               In
               haste
               he
               snatch'd
               the
               wooden
               limb
            
             
               That
               hurt
               in
               th'
               ankle
               lay
               by
               him
               ,
            
             
               And
               listing
               it
               for
               sudden
               fight
               ,
            
             
               Straight
               drew
               it
               up
               ,
               to
               fall
               on
               Knight
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               )
            
             
               Looking
               about
               ,
               beheld
               pernicion
            
             
               Approaching
               Knight
               from
               fell
               Musician
               .
            
             
               He
               snatch'd
               his
               Whiniard
               up
               ,
               that
               fled
            
             
               When
               he
               was
               falling
               off
               his
               Steed
               ,
            
             
               (
               As
               Rats
               do
               from
               a
               falling
               house
               ,
               )
            
             
               To
               hide
               it self
               from
               rage
               of
               blows
               ;
            
             
               And
               wing'd
               with
               speed
               and
               fury
               ,
               flew
            
             
               To
               rescue
               Knight
               from
               black
               and
               blew
               .
            
             
               Which
               e're
               he
               could
               atchieve
               ,
               his
               Sconce
            
             
               The
               Skin
               encounter'd
               twice
               and
               once
               ;
            
             
               And
               now
               't
               was
               rais'd
               to
               smite
               agen
               ,
            
             
               When
               Ralpho
               thrust
               himself
               between
               ,
            
             
               He
               took
               the
               blow
               on
               side
               and
               arm
               ,
            
             
               To
               shield
               the
               Knight
               entra●…nc'd
               from
               harm
               ;
            
             
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               w●…h
               force
               ,
               bestow'd
            
             
               O●…
               th'
               wooden
               〈◊〉
               such
               a
               load
               ,
            
             
               That
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               with
               〈◊〉
               bore
            
             
               Crowdero
               whom
               it
               propp'd
               be●…re
               .
            
             
               To
               him
               the
               Squire
               right
               〈◊〉
               run
               ,
            
             
               And
               seeing
               conquering
               ●…oor
               upon
            
             
               His
               〈◊〉
               ,
               thus
               〈◊〉
               :
               What
               
                 desp'rate
                 frenzie
              
            
             
               Made
               th●…
               (
               thou
               whelp
               of
               sin
               )
               to
               fancy
            
             
               Thy self
               and
               all
               that
               coward
               Rabble
            
             
               T'
               encounter
               us
               in
               battel
               able
               ?
            
             
               How
               〈◊〉
               th'
               ,
               I
               say
               ,
               oppose
               thy
               Curship
            
             
               '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
            
             
               〈◊〉
               our
               blows
               as
               that
               of
               wood
               ?
            
             
               Could
               ot
               the
               whipping
               post
               prevail
            
             
               With
               all
               its
               Rhet'rick
               ,
               〈◊〉
               the
               Gaol
               ,
            
             
               To
               keep
               from
               flaying
               〈◊〉
               thy
               skin
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               ●…nkle
               free
               from
               Iron
               gin
               ?
            
             
               Which
               〈◊〉
               thou
               shalt
               —
               but
               first
               our
               care
            
             
               〈◊〉
               see
               how
               Hudibras
               doth
               ●…re
            
             
               This
               〈◊〉
               gently
               rais'd
               the
               Knight
               ,
            
             
               And
               〈◊〉
               him
               on
               hi●…
               〈◊〉
               upright
               :
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               from
               〈◊〉
               dump
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               weak'd
               nose
               with
               gentle
               thump
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               on
               his
               breast
               ,
               as
               if
               't
               had
               been
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               the
               〈◊〉
               lodg'd
               within
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               with
               the
               noise
               ,
               did
               slye
            
             
               From
               〈◊〉
               ●…oom
               to
               window
               eye
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               gently
               op'ning
               〈◊〉
               ,
               ●…he
               ca●…ment
               ,
            
             
               Lookt
               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
               Conquerout
               ;
            
             
               As
               high
               ,
               victorious
               ,
               and
               great
               ,
            
             
               As
               e're
               fought
               for
               the
               Churches
               yet
               ,
            
             
               If
               you
               will
               give
               your self
               but
               leave
               ,
            
             
               To
               make
               out
               what
               y'
               already
               have
               ;
            
             
               That
               's
               Victory
               .
               The
               foe
               ,
               for
               dread
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Either
               for
               life
               ,
               or
               death
               ,
               or
               sale
               ,
            
             
               The
               Gallows
               ,
               or
               perpetual
               Goal
               .
            
             
               For
               one
               wink
               of
               your
               pow'rful
               eye
            
             
               Must
               sentence
               him
               to
               live
               or
               dye
               .
            
             
               His
               Fiddle
               is
               your
               proper
               purchase
               ,
            
             
               Wone
               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
               Conquerer
               ;
            
             
               Though
               dispensations
               were
               not
               strong
            
             
               Conclusions
               whether
               right
               or
               wrong
               ;
            
             
               Although
               Out-goings
               did
               not
               confirm
               ,
            
             
               And
               Owning
               were
               but
               a
               meer
               term
               :
            
             
             
               Yet
               as
               the
               wicked
               have
               no
               right
            
             
               
                 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
               ,
            
             
               Their
               Riots
               ,
               Revels
               ,
               Masks
               ,
               Delights
               ,
            
             
               Pimps
               ,
               Buffoons
               ,
               Fidlers
               ,
               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
            
             
               Then
               what
               was
               ours
               by
               right
               before
               .
            
             
               For
               we
               are
               their
               true
               Landlords
               still
               ,
            
             
               And
               they
               our
               Tenants
               but
               at
               will.
               
            
          
           
             
               At
               this
               the
               Knight
               begnn
               to
               rouse
               ,
            
             
               And
               by
               degrees
               grow
               valorous
               .
            
             
               He
               stat'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
            
             
               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
            
             
               To
               be
               the
               Hangmans
               bus'ness
               ,
               sooner
            
             
               Then
               from
               your
               hand
               to
               have
               the
               honour
            
             
             
               Of
               his
               Destruction
               .
               I
               that
               am
            
             
               A
               Nothingnesse
               in
               deed
               and
               name
               ,
            
             
               Did
               scorn
               to
               hurt
               his
               forfeit
               Carcasse
               ,
            
             
               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
               ?
            
             
               For
               though
               I
               fought
               ,
               and
               overcame
               ,
            
             
               And
               Quarter
               gave
               ,
               't
               was
               in
               your
               name
               .
            
             
               For
               great
               Commanders
               alwayes
               own
            
             
               What
               's
               prosperous
               by
               the
               Souldier
               done
               .
            
             
               To
               save
               ,
               where
               you
               have
               pow'r
               to
               kill
               ,
            
             
               Argues
               your
               Pow'r
               above
               your
               Will
               ;
            
             
               And
               that
               your
               will
               and
               pow'r
               have
               lesse
            
             
               Then
               both
               might
               have
               of
               selfishnesse
               .
            
             
               This
               pow'r
               which
               now
               alive
               with
               dread
            
             
               He
               trembles
               at
               ,
               if
               he
               were
               dead
               ,
            
             
               Would
               no
               more
               keep
               the
               slave
               in
               awe
               ,
            
             
               Then
               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
               accrew
               ,
            
             
               Or
               honour
               from
               his
               death
               to
               you
               ;
            
             
               'T
               were
               policy
               ,
               and
               honour
               too
               ,
            
             
               To
               do
               as
               you
               resolv'd
               to
               do
               .
            
             
               But
               ,
               Sir
               ,
               't
               would
               wrong
               your
               Valour
               much
               ,
            
             
               To
               say
               it
               needs
               or
               fears
               a
               Crutch
               .
            
             
               Great
               Conquerors
               greater
               glory
               gain
            
             
               By
               foes
               in
               Triumph
               led
               ,
               then
               slain
               :
            
             
             
               The
               Law●…s
               that
               adorn
               their
               brows
            
             
               Are
               pull'd
               from
               living
               ,
               not
               dead
               boughs
               ,
            
             
               And
               living
               foes
               the
               greatest
               fame
            
             
               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
               dub'd
               Knight
               .
            
             
               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
               h'appear
               so
               bold
               or
               crafty
               ,
            
             
               There
               may
               be
               danger
               in
               his
               safety
               ;
            
             
               If
               any
               Member
               there
               dislike
            
             
               His
               Face
               ,
               or
               to
               his
               Beard
               have
               pike
               ;
            
             
               Or
               if
               his
               death
               will
               save
               ,
               or
               yield
               ,
            
             
               Revenge
               ,
               or
               fright
               ,
               it
               is
               reveal'd
               ,
            
             
               Though
               he
               has
               Quarter
               ,
               ne'rethelesse
            
             
               Y'
               have
               pow'r
               to
               hang
               him
               when
               you
               please
               .
            
             
               This
               hath
               been
               often
               done
               by
               some
            
             
               Of
               our
               great
               Conquerors
               ,
               you
               know
               whom
               :
            
             
               〈◊〉
               has
               by
               most
               of
               us
               been
               held
            
             
               Wise
               Justice
               ,
               and
               to
               some
               reveal'd
               .
            
             
               For
               and
               promises
               that
               yoke
            
             
               The
               Conquerour
               ,
               are
               quickly
               broke
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Sampson's
               Cu●…
               ,
               though
               by
               his
               own
            
             
               Direction
               and
               advice
               put
               on
               .
            
             
               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
               our selves
               may
               speak
               ;
            
             
               But
               to
               the
               Wicked
               ,
               or
               the
               Weak
            
             
               We
               must
               be
               cautious
               to
               declare
            
             
               Perfection-truths
               ,
               such
               as
               these
               are
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               said
               ,
               the
               high
               out
               ragious
               mettle
            
             
               Of
               Knight
               began
               to
               cool
               and
               settle
               .
            
             
               He
               lik'd
               the
               
               Squire
               's
               advice
               ,
               and
               soon
            
             
               Resolv'd
               to
               see
               the
               bus'ness
               done
               :
            
             
               And
               therefore
               charg'd
               him
               first
               to
               bind
            
             
               
               Crowdero's
               hands
               on
               rump
               behind
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               its
               sormer
               place
               and
               use
            
             
               The
               Wooden
               member
               to
               reduce
               :
            
             
               But
               force
               it
               take
               an
               Oath
               before
               ,
            
             
               
                 Ne're
                 to
                 bear
                 arms
              
               against
               him
               more
               .
            
          
           
             
               Ralpho
               dispatch'd
               with
               speedy
               hast
               ,
            
             
               And
               having
               ty'd
               Crowdero
               fast
               ,
            
             
               He
               gave
               Sir
               Knight
               the
               end
               of
               Cord
               ,
            
             
               To
               lead
               the
               Captive
               of
               his
               Sword
            
             
               In
               triumph
               ,
               while
               the
               Steeds
               he
               caught
               ,
            
             
               And
               them
               to
               further
               service
               brought
               .
            
             
               The
               Squire
               in
               state
               rode
               on
               before
               ,
            
             
               And
               on
               his
               nut-brown
               Whyniard
               bore
            
             
               The
               Trophee
               -
               Fiddle
               ,
               and
               the
               Case
               ,
            
             
               Leaning
               on
               shoulder
               like
               a
               Mace.
            
             
               The
               Knight
               himself
               did
               after
               ride
               ,
            
             
               Leading
               Crowdero
               by
               his
               side
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               tow'd
               him
               ,
               if
               he
               lagg'd
               behind
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Boat
               against
               the
               Tide
               and
               Wind.
            
             
               Thus
               grave
               and
               solemn
               they
               march
               on
               ,
            
             
               Untill
               quite
               through
               the
               Town
               th'
               had
               gone
               .
            
             
               At
               further
               end
               of
               which
               there
               stands
            
             
               An
               antient
               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'rfull
               Spell
            
             
               Of
               Magick
               made
               impregnable
               .
            
             
               There
               's
               neither
               Iron-bat
               ,
               nor
               Gate
               ,
            
             
               Port-cullis
               ,
               Chain
               ,
               or
               Bolt
               ,
               or
               Grate
            
             
               And
               yet
               men
               durance
               there
               abide
               ,
            
             
               In
               Dungeon
               scarce
               three
               inches
               wide
               ;
            
             
               With
               Roof
               so
               low
               ,
               that
               under
               it
            
             
               They
               never
               stand
               ,
               but
               lye
               ,
               or
               sit
               ,
            
             
               And
               yet
               so
               foul
               ,
               that
               whoso
               is
               in
               ,
            
             
               Is
               to
               the
               middle-leg
               in
               Prison
               ,
            
             
               In
               Circle
               Magical
               confin'd
               ,
            
             
               With
               walls
               of
               subtle
               Air
               and
               Wind
               ,
            
             
               Which
               none
               are
               able
               to
               break
               thorough
               ,
            
             
               Untill
               th'
               are
               freed
               by
               head
               of
               Burrough
               .
            
             
               Thither
               arriv'd
               ,
               th'
               advent'rous
               Knight
            
             
               And
               bold
               Squire
               from
               their
               Steeds
               alight
               ,
            
             
               At
               th'
               outward
               wall
               ,
               near
               which
               there
               stands
            
             
               A
               Bastile
               ,
               built
               t'
               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
               .
            
             
             
               And
               when
               a
               circle
               'bout
               the
               wrist
            
             
               Is
               made
               by
               Beadle
               Exorcist
               ,
            
             
               The
               Body
               feels
               the
               Spur
               and
               Switch
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               't
               were
               ridden
               Post
               by
               '
               witch
               ,
            
             
               At
               twenty
               miles
               an
               hour
               pace
               ,
            
             
               And
               yet
               ne're
               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
               Spoyls
               ,
               the
               Case
               ,
            
             
               In
               manner
               of
               a
               Trophee
               ,
               place
               .
            
             
               That
               done
               ,
               they
               ope
               the
               Trap-door-gate
               ,
            
             
               And
               let
               Crowdero
               down
               thereat
               .
            
             
               Crowdero
               making
               dolefull
               face
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Hermit
               poor
               in
               pensive
               place
               ,
            
             
               To
               Dungeon
               they
               the
               wretch
               commit
               ,
            
             
               And
               the
               survivor
               of
               his
               feet
               :
            
             
               But
               th'
               other
               ,
               that
               had
               broke
               the
               peace
               ,
            
             
               And
               head
               of
               Knight
               hood
               ,
               they
               release
               ,
            
             
               Though
               a
               Delinquent
               false
               and
               forged
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               b'ing
               a
               Stranger
               ,
               he
               's
               enlarged
               ;
            
             
               While
               his
               Comrade
               ,
               that
               did
               no
               hurt
               ,
            
             
               Is
               clapt
               up
               fast
               in
               Prison
               for
               't
               .
            
             
               
                 So
                 Justice
                 ,
                 while
                 she
                 winks
                 at
                 Crimes
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 Stumbles
                 on
                 Innocence
                 sometimes
              
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             
             
               THE
               ARGUMENT
               OF
               THE
               THIRD
               CANTO
               .
            
             
               
                 The
                 scatter'd
                 Rout
                 return
                 and
                 rally
                 ,
              
               
                 Surround
                 the
                 Place
                 ;
                 the
                 Knight
                 does
                 sally
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 is
                 made
                 Pris'ner
                 :
                 then
                 they
                 seize
              
               
                 The
                 Inchanted
                 Fort
                 by
                 storm
                 ,
                 release
              
               
                 Crowdero
                 ,
                 and
                 put
                 the
                 Squire
                 in
                 's
                 place
                 .
              
               
                 I
                 should
                 have
                 first
                 said
                 ,
                 Hudibras
                 .
              
            
          
           
             CANTO
             III.
             
          
           
             
               AY
               me
               !
               what
               perils
               do
               inviron
            
             
               The
               man
               that
               meddles
               with
               cold
               Iron
               !
            
             
               What
               plaguy
               mischiefs
               and
               mishaps
            
             
               Do
               〈◊〉
               him
               still
               with
               after-claps
               !
            
             
               For
               though
               Dame
               Fortune
               seem
               to
               smile
            
             
               And
               leer
               upon
               him
               for
               a
               while
               ;
            
             
               She
               'l
               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
              
               .
            
             
               For
               Hudibras
               ,
               who
               thought
               h
               'had
               won
            
             
               The
               field
               as
               suer
               as
               a
               Gun
               ,
            
             
               And
               having
               routed
               the
               whole
               Troop
               ,
            
             
               With
               Victory
               was
               Cock-a-hoop
               ;
            
             
             
               Thinking
               h
               'had
               done
               enough
               to
               purchase
            
             
               
                 Thanks
                 giving-day
              
               among
               the
               Churches
               ,
            
             
               Wherein
               his
               Mettle
               and
               brave
               Worth
            
             
               Might
               be
               explain'd
               by
               Holder-forth
               ,
            
             
               And
               register'd
               by
               fame
               eternal
               ,
            
             
               In
               Deathlesse
               Pages
               of
               Diurnal
               ;
            
             
               Found
               in
               few
               minutes
               ,
               to
               his
               cost
               ,
            
             
               He
               did
               but
               
                 Count
                 without
                 his
                 Host
              
               ;
            
             
               And
               that
               a
               Turn-stile
               is
               more
               certain
               ,
            
             
               Then
               in
               events
               of
               War
               Dame
               Fortune
               .
            
             
               For
               now
               ,
               the
               late-faint-hearted
               Rout
               ,
            
             
               O're
               thrown
               and
               scatter'd
               round
               about
               ,
            
             
               Chac'd
               by
               the
               horrour
               of
               their
               fear
            
             
               From
               bloudy
               fray
               of
               Knight
               and
               Bear
               ,
            
             
               (
               All
               but
               the
               Dogs
               ,
               who
               in
               pursuit
            
             
               Of
               the
               Knight's
               Victory
               stood
               to
               't
               ,
            
             
               And
               most
               ignobly
               sought
               to
               get
            
             
               The
               Honour
               of
               his
               bloud
               and
               sweat
               )
            
             
               Seeing
               the
               coast
               was
               free
               and
               clear
            
             
               O'
               th'
               Conquer'd
               and
               the
               Conquerer
               ,
            
             
               Took
               heart
               of
               grace
               ,
               and
               fac'd
               about
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               they
               meant
               to
               stand
               it
               out
               :
            
             
               For
               by
               this
               time
               ,
               the
               routed
               Bear
            
             
               Attaqu'd
               by
               th'
               Enemy
               i'
               th'
               Rear
               ,
            
             
               Finding
               their
               number
               grew
               too
               great
            
             
               For
               him
               to
               make
               a
               safe
               retreat
               ,
            
             
               Like
               a
               bold
               Chieftain
               fac'd
               about
               ,
            
             
               But
               wisely
               doubting
               to
               hold
               out
               ,
            
             
               Gave
               way
               to
               Fortune
               ,
               and
               with
               hast
            
             
               Fac'd
               the
               proud
               soe
               ,
               and
               fled
               ,
               and
               fac'd
               ,
            
             
             
               Retiring
               still
               ,
               until
               he
               found
            
             
               H'
               had
               got
               th'
               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
               .
            
             
               Until
               in
               spight
               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
            
             
               Forc'd
               their
               whole
               Body
               to
               recoil
               :
            
             
               But
               still
               their
               numbers
               so
               encreast
               ,
            
             
               He
               found
               himself
               at
               length
               opprest
               ,
            
             
               And
               all
               evasions
               so
               uncertain
               ,
            
             
               To
               save
               himself
               for
               better
               fortune
               ,
            
             
               That
               he
               resolv'd
               ,
               rather
               then
               yield
               ,
            
             
               To
               die
               with
               honour
               in
               the
               field
               ,
            
             
               And
               sell
               his
               hyde
               and
               carkase
               at
            
             
               A
               price
               as
               high
               and
               desperate
            
             
               As
               e're
               he
               could
               .
               This
               resolution
            
             
               He
               forthwith
               put
               in
               execution
               ,
            
             
               And
               bravely
               threw
               himself
               among
            
             
               The
               enemy
               in
               the
               greatest
               throng
               .
            
             
               But
               what
               could
               single
               valour
               doe
            
             
               Against
               so
               numerous
               a
               foe
               ?
            
             
               Yet
               much
               he
               did
               ,
               indeed
               too
               much
            
             
               To
               be
               believ'd
               ,
               where
               th'odds
               was
               such
               :
            
             
               But
               one
               against
               a
               multitude
               ,
            
             
               Is
               more
               than
               mortal
               can
               make
               good
               ,
            
             
             
               For
               while
               one
               party
               he
               oppos'd
               ,
            
             
               His
               Rear
               was
               suddenly
               enclos'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
               ;
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               ●…s
               said
               to
               fight
               upon
               his
               stumps
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               all
               ,
               alas
               !
               had
               been
               in
               vain
               ,
            
             
               And
               he
               inevitably
               slain
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               and
               〈◊〉
               in
               the
               nick
            
             
               To
               〈◊〉
               him
               had
               not
               been
               quick
               ,
            
             
               For
               〈◊〉
               who
               was
               ●…ight
               of
               foot
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               which
               long-field
               〈◊〉
               shoot
               ,
            
             
             
               (
               But
               not
               so
               light
               as
               to
               be
               born
            
             
               Upon
               the
               ears
               of
               standing
               Corn
               ,
            
             
               Or
               trip
               it
               o're
               the
               Water
               quicker
            
             
               Then
               Witches
               when
               their
               staves
               they
               liquor
               ,
            
             
               As
               some
               report
               )
               was
               got
               among
            
             
               The
               foremost
               of
               the
               Martial
               throng
               ;
            
             
               Where
               pitrying
               the
               vanquisht
               Bear
               ,
            
             
               She
               call'd
               to
               Cerdon
               ,
               who
               stood
               near
            
             
               Viewing
               the
               bloudy
               fight
               ,
               to
               whom
            
             
               Shall
               wee
               (
               quoth
               she
               )
               stand
               still
               
                 hum
                 drum
              
               ,
            
             
               And
               see
               stout
               Bruin
               all
               alone
            
             
               By
               numbers
               basely
               overthrown
               ?
            
             
               Such
               sears
               already
               h'
               has
               atchiev'd
               ,
            
             
               In
               story
               not
               to
               be
               believ'd
               :
            
             
               And
               t
               would
               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
               :
            
             
               But
               then
               we
               must
               about
               it
               streight
               ,
            
             
               Or
               else
               our
               aid
               will
               come
               too
               late
               .
            
             
               Quarter
               he
               scorns
               ,
               he
               is
               so
               stout
               ,
            
             
               And
               therfore
               cannot
               long
               hold
               our
               .
            
             
               This
               said
               ,
               they
               wav'd
               their
               weapons
               round
            
             
               About
               their
               heads
               ,
               to
               clear
               the
               ground
               :
            
             
               And
               joyning
               forces
               laid
               about
            
             
               So
               fiercely
               ,
               that
               th'
               amazed
               rout
            
             
               Turn'd
               tail
               again
               ,
               and
               straight
               begun
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               the
               
                 Devil
                 drove
              
               ,
               to
               run
               .
            
             
             
               Mean
               while
               th'
               approach'd
               the
               place
               where
            
             
               Was
               now
               engaged
               to
               mortal
               ruin
               :
               
                 (
                 Bruin
              
            
             
               The
               conquering
               foe
               they
               soon
               assail'd
               ;
            
             
               First
               Trulla
               stav'd
               ,
               and
               Cerdon
               tail'd
               ,
            
             
               Until
               the
               Mastives
               loos'd
               their
               hold
               :
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Made
               proof
               against
               dead-doing
               steel
            
             
               All
               over
               but
               the
               Pagan
               heel
               :
            
             
               So
               did
               our
               Champion's
               Arms
               desend
            
             
               All
               of
               him
               but
               the
               other
               end
               ,
            
             
               His
               head
               and
               ears
               ,
               which
               in
               the
               martial
            
             
               Encounter
               lost
               a
               leathern
               parcel
               .
            
             
               For
               as
               an
               
                 Ausirian
                 Archduke
              
               once
            
             
               Had
               one
               ear
               (
               which
               in
               Ducatoons
            
             
               Is
               half
               the
               Coin
               )
               in
               battel
               par'd
            
             
               Close
               to
               his
               head
               ;
               so
               Bruin
               far'd
               :
            
             
               But
               tugg'd
               and
               pull'd
               on
               th'
               other
               side
               ,
            
             
               Like
               Scrivener
               newly
               crucify'd
               ;
            
             
               Or
               like
               the
               late
               corrected
               Leathern
            
             
               Ea●…
               of
               the
               
                 circumeised
                 brethren
              
               .
            
             
               But
               gentle
               Trulla
               into
               th'
               ring
            
             
               He
               wore
               in●…s
               nose
               convey'd
               a
               string
               ,
            
             
               With
               which
               she
               mareht
               before
               ,
               and
               led
            
             
               The
               Warrior
               to
               a
               grassy
               Bed
               ,
            
             
               As
               ●…uthors
               write
               ,
               in
               a
               cool
               shade
               ,
            
             
               Which
               〈◊〉
               glentine
               and
               Roses
               made
               ,
            
             
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               a
               well-tun'd
               Theorbo
               bung
            
             
               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
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               Orsin
               (
               who
               was
               more
               renown'd
            
             
               For
               stout
               maintaining
               of
               his
               ground
            
             
               In
               standing
               fights
               then
               for
               pursuit
               ,
            
             
               As
               being
               not
               so
               quick
               of
               foot
               )
            
             
               Was
               not
               long
               able
               to
               keep
               pace
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Foreing
               the
               Vallies
               to
               repeat
            
             
               The
               Accents
               of
               his
               sad
               regret
               .
            
             
               He
               beat
               his
               breast
               ,
               and
               tore
               his
               hair
               ,
            
             
               For
               loss
               of
               his
               dear
               Crony
               Bear
               :
            
             
             
               That
               Echo
               from
               the
               hollow
               ground
            
             
               His
               dolesull
               wailings
               did
               resound
            
             
               More
               wistfully
               ,
               by
               many
               times
               ,
            
             
               Then
               in
               small
               Poets
               splay-foot
               ●…es
               ,
            
             
               That
               make
               her
               ,
               in
               their
               ruthfull
               stories
               ,
            
             
               To
               answer
               to
               inter'gatories
               ,
            
             
               And
               most
               unconscionably
               depose
            
             
               To
               things
               of
               which
               she
               nothing
               knows
               :
            
             
               And
               when
               she
               has
               said
               all
               she
               can
               say
               ,
            
             
               T
               is
               wrested
               to
               the
               Lover's
               fancy
               .
            
             
               Quoth
               he
               ,
               O
               whether
               ,
               wicked
               Bruin
               ,
            
             
               A●…t
               thou
               fled
               to
               my
               —
               Echo
               ,
               ruine
               ?
            
             
               I
               thought
               th'hadst
               scorn'd
               to
               budge
               a
               step
               ,
            
             
               For
               fear
               .
               (
               Quoth
               Echo
               )
               
                 Marry
                 guep
              
               .
            
             
               Am
               not
               I
               here
               to
               take
               thy
               part
               ?
            
             
               Then
               what
               has
               quail'd
               thy
               stubborn
               heart
               ?
            
             
               Have
               these
               bones
               rattled
               ,
               and
               this
               head
            
             
               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
               't
               will
               not
               be
               laid
               i'
               th'
               dish
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               turn'dst
               thy
               back
               ?
               Quoth
               Echo
               ,
               Pish.
            
             
               To
               run
               from
               those
               th'hadst
               overcome
            
             
               Thus
               cowardly
               ?
               Quoth
               Echo
               ,
               Mum.
            
             
               But
               what
               a-vengeance
               makes
               thee
               slie
            
             
               From
               me
               too
               ,
               as
               thine
               enemy
               ?
            
             
               Or
               if
               thou
               hast
               no
               thought
               of
               me
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               what
               I
               have
               endur'd
               for
               thee
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               shame
               and
               honour
               might
               prevail
            
             
               To
               keep
               thee
               thus
               from
               turning
               rail
               :
            
             
             
               For
               who
               would'grutch
               to
               spend
               his
               bloud
               in
            
             
               His
               honor's
               cause
               ?
               Quoth
               she
               ,
               a
               Puddin
               .
            
             
               This
               said
               ,
               his
               grief
               to
               anger
               turn'd
               ,
            
             
               Which
               in
               his
               manly
               stomack
               burn'd
               ;
            
             
               Thirst
               of
               Revenge
               and
               Wrath
               ,
               in
               place
            
             
               Of
               Sorrow
               ,
               now
               began
               to
               blaze
               .
            
             
               He
               vow'd
               the
               Authors
               of
               his
               woe
            
             
               Should
               equal
               vengeance
               undergo
               ;
            
             
               And
               with
               his
               bones
               and
               〈◊〉
               pay
               dear
            
             
               For
               what
               he
               suffer'd
               and
               his
               Bear.
            
             
               This
               b'ing
               resolv'd
               ,
               with
               equal
               speed
            
             
               And
               rage
               he
               hasted
               to
               proceed
            
             
               To
               action
               straight
               ,
               and
               giving
               ore
            
             
               To
               search
               for
               Bruin
               any
               more
               ,
            
             
               He
               went
               in
               quest
               of
               Hudibras
               ,
            
             
               To
               find
               him
               out
               ,
               where
               e're
               he
               was
               :
            
             
               And
               if
               he
               were
               above
               ground
               ,
               vow'd
            
             
               He
               'd
               ferret
               him
               ,
               lurk
               where
               he
               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
               .
            
             
               Honor
               ,
               Revenge
               ,
               Contempt
               and
               Shame
               ,
            
             
               Did
               equally
               their
               breasts
               enflame
               .
            
             
               'Mong
               these
               the
               fierce
               Magnano
               was
               ,
            
             
               And
               Talgol
               foe
               to
               Hudibras
               ;
            
             
               Cerdon
               and
               Colon
               ,
               Warriors
               stout
            
             
               And
               resolute
               as
               ever
               fought
               :
            
             
             
               Whom
               furious
               Orsin
               thus
               bespoke
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               we
               (
               quoth
               he
               )
               thus
               basely
               brook
            
             
               The
               vile
               affront
               ,
               that
               paultry
               Ass
               ,
            
             
               And
               feeble
               
                 Scoundrel
                 Hudibras
              
               ,
            
             
               With
               that
               more
               paultry
               Ragamuffin
            
             
               Ralpho
               ,
               with
               vapouring
               and
               huffing
            
             
               Have
               put
               upon
               us
               ,
               like
               tame
               cattel
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               th'
               had
               routed
               us
               in
               battel
               ?
            
             
               For
               my
               part
               ,
               it
               shall
               ne're
               be
               sed
               ,
            
             
               I
               for
               the
               washing
               gave
               my
               head
               :
            
             
               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
               these
               fell
               wounds
               ,
               or
               no
               ,
            
             
               He
               has
               receiv'd
               in
               fight
               are
               mortal
               ,
            
             
               Is
               more
               then
               all
               my
               skill
               can
               foretel
               .
            
             
               Nor
               do
               I
               know
               what
               is
               become
            
             
               Of
               him
               ,
               
                 more
                 then
                 the
                 Pope
                 of
                 Rome
                 .
              
            
             
               But
               if
               I
               can
               but
               find
               them
               out
            
             
               That
               caus'd
               it
               ,
               (
               as
               I
               shall
               no
               doubt
               ,
            
             
               Where
               e're
               th'in
               Hugger-mugger
               lurk
               )
            
             
               ●…e
               make
               them
               rue
               their
               handy-work
               ;
            
             
               And
               wish
               that
               they
               had
               rather
               dar'd
            
             
               
                 To
                 pull
                 the
                 Devil
                 by
                 the
                 Beard
                 .
              
            
             
               Quoth
               Cerdon
               ,
               Noble
               Orsia
               ,
               th'
               hast
            
             
               Great
               reason
               to
               do
               as
               thou
               sayst
               ;
            
             
               And
               so
               has
               every
               body
               here
            
             
               As
               well
               as
               thou
               hast
               or
               thy
               Bear
               ,
            
             
               Others
               may
               do
               as
               they
               see
               good
               ;
            
             
               But
               if
               this
               Twig
               he
               made
               of
               wood
            
             
             
               That
               will
               hold
               tack
               ,
               l'se
               make
               the
               fur
            
             
               Flie
               'bout
               the
               ears
               of
               the
               old
               Cut
               ,
            
             
               And
               th'
               other
               mungrel
               Vermin
               ,
               Ralph
               ,
            
             
               That
               brav'd
               us
               all
               in
               his
               behalf
               .
            
             
               Thy
               Bear
               is
               safe
               ,
               and
               out
               of
               peril
               ,
            
             
               Though
               lugg'd
               indeed
               ,
               and
               wounded
               very
               ill
               .
            
             
               My self
               ,
               and
               Trulla
               made
               a
               shift
            
             
               To
               help
               him
               out
               at
               a
               dead
               lift
               ;
            
             
               And
               having
               brought
               him
               bravely
               off
               ,
            
             
               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
               joyn
            
             
               Their
               forces
               in
               the
               same
               design
               :
            
             
               And
               forthwith
               put
               themselves
               in
               search
            
             
               Of
               Hudibras
               upon
               their
               march
               .
            
             
               Where
               leave
               we
               them
               a
               while
               ,
               to
               tell
            
             
               What
               the
               Victorious
               Knight
               befel
               :
            
             
               For
               such
               ,
               Crowdero
               being
               fast
            
             
               In
               Dangeon
               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
               tit'd
            
             
               With
               conquering
               toil
               ,
               he
               now
               retir'd
            
             
               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
               Blews
               ;
            
             
             
               To
               mossifie
               the
               uneasie
               pang
            
             
               Of
               ev'ry
               honourable
               bang
               .
            
             
               Which
               b'ing
               by
               skilful
               Midwife
               drest
               ,
            
             
               He
               said
               him
               down
               to
               take
               his
               rest
               .
            
             
               But
               all
               in
               vain
               .
               H'
               had
               got
               a
               hurt
            
             
               O'
               th'
               inside
               ,
               of
               a
               deadlier
               sort
               ,
            
             
               By
               Cupid
               made
               ,
               who
               took
               his
               stand
            
             
               Upon
               a
               widows
               joynture-land
               ,
            
             
               (
               For
               he
               ,
               in
               all
               his
               amorous
               battels
               ,
            
             
               No
               '
               dvantage
               finds
               like
               goods
               and
               chattels
               )
            
             
               As
               now
               he
               did
               ,
               and
               aiming
               right
               ,
            
             
               An
               arrow
               he
               let
               flie
               at
               Knight
               ;
            
             
               The
               shast
               against
               a
               rib
               did
               glance
               ,
            
             
               And
               gall
               him
               in
               the
               Purtenance
               .
            
             
               But
               time
               had
               somewhat
               swag'd
               his
               pain
               ,
            
             
               After
               he
               found
               his
               suit
               in
               vain
               .
            
             
               For
               that
               proud
               Dame
               ,
               for
               whom
               his
               soul
            
             
               Was
               burnt
               in
               's
               belly
               like
               a
               coal
               ,
            
             
               (
               That
               belly
               ,
               that
               so
               oft
               did
               ake
               ,
            
             
               And
               suffer
               griping
               for
               her
               sake
               ,
            
             
               Till
               purging
               Comfits
               ,
               and
               Ants
               eggs
               ,
            
             
               Had
               almost
               brought
               him
               off
               his
               leggs
               )
            
             
               Ha'd
               him
               so
               like
               a
               base
               Rascallion
               ,
            
             
               That
               Old
               Prg
               -
               (
               what
               d'
               y'
               call
               him
               ?
               )
               malion
               ,
            
             
               That
               cut
               his
               Mistress
               out
               of
               stone
               ,
            
             
               Had
               not
               so
               hard-a-hearted
               one
               .
            
             
               She
               had
               a
               thousand
               jadish
               tricks
               ,
            
             
               Worse
               than
               a
               Mule
               that
               flings
               and
               kicks
               :
            
             
               M●…g
               which
               one
               cross-grain'd
               freak
               she
               had
               ,
            
             
               As
               insolent
               ,
               as
               strange
               ,
               and
               mad
               :
            
             
             
               She
               could
               love
               none
               but
               only
               such
            
             
               As
               scorn'd
               and
               hated
               her
               as
               much
               .
            
             
               'T
               was
               a
               strange
               Riddle
               of
               a
               Lady
               ;
            
             
               Not
               love
               ,
               if
               any
               lov'd
               her
               ?
               ha
               day
               !
            
             
               So
               Cowards
               never
               use
               their
               might
               ,
            
             
               But
               against
               such
               as
               will
               not
               fight
               .
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               Meanwhile
               the
               Knight
               had
               no
               small
               task
               ,
            
             
               To
               compasse
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Untill
               he
               seize
               upon
               the
               Coney
               :
            
             
               Just
               so
               does
               he
               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
               born
               .
            
             
               Yet
               much
               he
               bore
               ,
               untill
               the
               distresse
            
             
               He
               suffer'd
               from
               his
               spightfull
               Mistresse
            
             
               Did
               stir
               his
               stomack
               ,
               and
               the
               pain
            
             
               He
               had
               endur'd
               from
               her
               disdain
            
             
             
               Turn'd
               to
               regret
               ,
               so
               resolute
               ,
            
             
               That
               he
               resolv'd
               to
               wave
               his
               suit
               ,
            
             
               And
               either
               to
               renounce
               her
               quite
               ,
            
             
               Or
               for
               a
               while
               play
               least
               in
               sight
               .
            
             
               This
               resolution
               being
               put
               on
               ,
            
             
               He
               kept
               some
               months
               ,
               and
               more
               had
               done
               ;
            
             
               But
               being
               brought
               so
               nigh
               by
               fate
               ,
            
             
               The
               Victory
               he
               atchiev'd
               so
               late
               ,
            
             
               Did
               set
               his
               thoughts
               agog
               ,
               and
               hope
            
             
               A
               dore
               to
               discontinu'd
               hope
               .
            
             
               That
               seem'd
               to
               promise
               he
               might
               win
            
             
               His
               Dame
               too
               now
               his
               hand
               was
               in
               ;
            
             
               And
               that
               his
               valour
               ,
               and
               the
               honour
            
             
               H'
               had
               newly
               gair'd
               might
               work
               upon
               her
               .
            
             
               These
               reasons
               made
               his
               mouth
               to
               water
            
             
               With
               amorous
               longings
               to
               be
               at
               her
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               he
               unto
               himself
               ,
               Who
               knows
            
             
               But
               this
               brave
               Conquest
               o're
               my
               soes
            
             
               May
               reach
               her
               heart
               ,
               and
               make
               that
               stoop
               ,
            
             
               As
               I
               but
               now
               have
               forc'd
               the
               Troop
               ?
            
             
               If
               nothing
               can
               oppugne
               love
               ,
            
             
               And
               vertue
               envious
               ways
               can
               prove
               ,
            
             
               What
               may
               not
               he
               confide
               to
               do
               ,
            
             
               That
               brings
               both
               love
               and
               vertue
               too
               ?
            
             
               But
               thou
               bring'st
               valour
               too
               and
               wit
               ,
            
             
               Two
               things
               that
               seldom
               sa●…l
               to
               hit
               .
            
             
               Valour
               's
               a
               Mouse-trap
               ,
               wit
               a
               gin
               ,
            
             
               Which
               women
               oft
               are
               taken
               in
               .
            
             
               Then
               ,
               Hudibras
               ,
               why
               shouldst
               thou
               fear
            
             
               To
               be
               ,
               that
               art
               a
               Conquerer
               ?
            
             
             
               Fortune
               th'
               audacious
               doth
               juvare
            
             
               But
               let
               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
               .
            
          
           
             
               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
               blew
               eyes
               ,
            
             
               As
               it
               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
               widows
               heart
               ;
            
             
               Crying
               with
               hasty
               tone
               ,
               and
               hoarse
               ,
            
             
               Ralpho
               ,
               dispatch
               ,
               to
               horse
               ,
               to
               horse
               .
            
             
               And
               't
               was
               but
               time
               ,
               for
               now
               the
               Rout
               ,
            
             
               We
               lest
               engag'd
               to
               seek
               him
               our
               ,
            
             
               By
               speedy
               marches
               were
               advanc'd
            
             
               Up
               to
               the
               fo●…
               where
               he
               ensconc'd
               ,
            
             
               And
               had
               all
               th'
               avenues
               postest
            
             
               About
               the
               place
               ,
               from
               East
               to
               West
               .
            
          
           
             
               That
               done
               ,
               a
               while
               they
               made
               a
               halt
               ,
            
             
               To
               view
               the
               ground
               ,
               &c
               where
               t'
               assault
               :
            
             
               Then
               call'd
               a
               Council
               ,
               which
               was
               best
               ,
            
             
               By
               fi●…e
               or
               onslaught
               ,
               to
               invest
            
             
               The
               enemy
               :
               and
               't
               was
               agreed
               .
            
             
               By
               storm
               and
               onslaught
               to
               preceed
               .
            
             
             
               This
               being
               resolv'd
               ,
               in
               comely
               sort
               ,
            
             
               They
               now
               drew
               up
               t'attack
               the
               fort
               .
            
             
               When
               Hudibras
               ,
               about
               to
               enter
            
             
               Upon
               another
               gate
               's
               adventure
               ,
            
             
               To
               Ralpho
               call'd
               aloud
               to
               arm
               ,
            
             
               Not
               dreaming
               of
               approaching
               storm
               .
            
             
               VVhether
               Dame
               Fortune
               ,
               or
               the
               care
            
             
               Of
               Angel
               bad
               ,
               of
               Tutelar
               ,
            
             
               Did
               aim
               ,
               or
               thrust
               him
               on
               a
               danger
               ,
            
             
               To
               which
               he
               was
               an
               utter
               stranger
               ;
            
             
               That
               Foresight
               might
               ,
               or
               might
               not
               blor
            
             
               The
               glory
               he
               had
               newly
               got
               ;
            
             
               Or
               to
               his
               shame
               it
               might
               be
               sed
               ,
            
             
               They
               took
               him
               napping
               in
               his
               bed
               :
            
             
               To
               them
               we
               leave
               it
               to
               expound
               ,
            
             
               That
               deal
               in
               Sciences
               profound
               .
            
             
               His
               Courser
               scarce
               he
               had
               bestrid
               ,
            
             
               And
               Ralpho
               that
               on
               which
               he
               rid
               ;
            
             
               VVhen
               setting
               ope
               the
               Postern
               gate
               ,
            
             
               VVhich
               they
               thought
               best
               to
               sally
               at
               ,
            
             
               The
               Foe
               appeat'd
               ,
               drawn
               up
               and
               drill'd
               ,
            
             
               Ready
               to
               charge
               them
               in
               the
               field
               .
            
             
               This
               somwhat
               startled
               the
               bold
               Knight
               ,
            
             
               Surpriz'd
               with
               th'unexpected
               sight
               ,
            
             
               The
               bruises
               of
               his
               bones
               and
               flesh
            
             
               He
               thought
               began
               to
               smart
               afresh
               ;
            
             
               Till
               recollecting
               wonted
               Courage
               ,
            
             
               His
               fear
               was
               soon
               converted
               to
               rage
               ,
            
             
               And
               those
               he
               spoke
               :
               The
               Coward
               Foe
               ,
            
             
               VVhom
               we
               but
               now
               gave
               quarter
               to
               ,
            
             
             
               Look
               ,
               yonder
               's
               rally'd
               ,
               and
               appears
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               they
               had
               outrun
               their
               fears
               .
            
             
               The
               Glory
               we
               did
               lately
               get
               ,
            
             
               The
               fares
               command
               us
               to
               repeat
               .
            
             
               And
               to
               their
               wills
               we
               must
               succumb
               ,
            
             
               
                 Quocunque
                 trahunt
              
               ,
               't
               is
               our
               doom
               ,
            
             
               This
               is
               the
               same
               numerick
               Crew
            
             
               Which
               we
               so
               lately
               did
               subdue
               ,
            
             
               The
               sel-same
               individuals
               that
            
             
               Did
               run
               ,
               as
               Mice
               do
               from
               a
               Cat
               ,
            
             
               When
               we
               couragiously
               did
               wield
            
             
               Our
               martial
               weapons
               in
               the
               field
               ,
            
             
               To
               tug
               for
               Victory
               :
               and
               when
            
             
               We
               shall
               our
               shining
               blades
               agen
            
             
               Brandish
               in
               terrour
               o're
               our
               heads
               ,
            
             
               They
               'l
               straight
               resume
               their
               wonted
               dreads
               .
            
             
               Fear
               is
               an
               Ague
               ,
               that
               forsakes
            
             
               And
               haunts
               by
               turns
               those
               whom
               it
               takes
               .
            
             
               And
               they
               'l
               opine
               they
               feel
               the
               pain
            
             
               And
               blows
               ,
               they
               felt
               to
               day
               ,
               again
               .
            
             
               Then
               let
               us
               boldly
               charge
               them
               home
               ,
            
             
               And
               make
               no
               doubt
               to
               overcome
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               said
               ,
               his
               Courage
               to
               enflame
               ,
            
             
               He
               call'd
               upon
               his
               Mistress
               name
               .
            
             
               His
               Pistol
               next
               he
               cock●…
               anew
               ,
            
             
               And
               out
               his
               nut-brown
               whiniard
               drew
               ,
            
             
               And
               placing
               Ralpho
               in
               the
               front
               ,
            
             
               Resolv'd
               himself
               to
               be
               bear
               the
               brunt
               ;
            
             
             
               As
               expert
               Warriors
               use
               :
               then
               ply'd
            
             
               With
               Iron-heel
               his
               Courser's
               side
               ,
            
             
               Conveying
               Sympathetick
               speed
            
             
               From
               heel
               of
               Knight
               to
               heel
               of
               Steed
               .
            
          
           
             
               Meanwhile
               the
               soe
               with
               equal
               rage
            
             
               And
               speed
               advancing
               to
               engage
               ,
            
             
               Both
               Parties
               now
               were
               drawn
               so
               close
               ,
            
             
               Almost
               to
               come
               to
               handiblows
               .
            
             
               When
               Orsin
               first
               let
               flie
               a
               stone
            
             
               A
               Ralpho
               :
               not
               so
               huge
               a
               one
            
             
               As
               that
               which
               Diomed
               did
               maul
            
             
               Aeneas
               on
               the
               Bum
               withall
               :
            
             
               Yet
               big
               enough
               ,
               if
               rightly
               hurl'd
               ,
            
             
               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
               re●…e
               .
            
             
               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
               gali
               ,
               prest
               close
               ,
            
             
               To
               come
               ,
               pell-mell
               ,
               to
               handiblows
               :
            
             
               And
               that
               he
               might
               their
               aim
               decline
               ,
            
             
               Advanc'd
               still
               in
               an
               oblique
               line
               ;
            
             
               But
               prudently
               forbore
               to
               sire
               ,
            
             
               Till
               breast
               to
               breast
               he
               had
               got
               nigher
               .
            
             
             
               As
               expert
               Warriours
               use
               to
               do
               ,
            
             
               When
               hand
               to
               hand
               they
               charge
               the
               foe
               .
            
             
               This
               order
               the
               advent'rous
               Knight
               ,
            
             
               Most
               Souldier-like
               observ'd
               in
               fight
               :
            
             
               When
               Fortune
               (
               as
               she
               's
               wont
               )
               turn'd
               fickle
               ,
            
             
               And
               for
               the
               foe
               began
               to
               stickle
               .
            
             
               The
               more
               shame
               for
               her
               Goody-ship
               ,
            
             
               To
               give
               so
               near
               a
               friend
               the
               slip
               .
            
             
               For
               Colon
               chusing
               out
               a
               stone
               ,
            
             
               Levell'd
               so
               right
               ,
               it
               thumpt
               upon
            
             
               His
               manly
               panch
               with
               such
               a
               force
               ,
            
             
               As
               almost
               beat
               him
               off
               his
               horse
               .
            
             
               He
               loos'd
               his
               whiniard
               ,
               and
               the
               rein
               ;
            
             
               But
               laying
               fast
               hold
               on
               the
               mane
               ,
            
             
               Preserv'd
               his
               seat
               :
               And
               as
               a
               Goose
            
             
               In
               death
               contracts
               his
               talons
               close
               ;
            
             
               So
               did
               the
               Knight
               ,
               and
               with
               one
               claw
            
             
               The
               tricker
               of
               his
               Pistol
               draw
               .
            
             
               The
               Gun
               went
               off
               :
               and
               as
               it
               was
            
             
               Still
               fatal
               to
               stout
               Hudibras
               ,
            
             
               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
               Gabberdine
               ,
               and
               grazing
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
             
               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
               Ralpho
               might
               ;
               but
               he
               with
               care
            
             
               Of
               Hudibras
               his
               hurt
               forbare
               ,
            
             
               To
               press
               th'
               advantage
               of
               his
               fortune
               ,
            
             
               While
               danger
               did
               the
               rest
               dishearten
               .
            
             
               For
               he
               with
               Cerdon
               b'ing
               engag'd
            
             
               In
               close
               encounter
               ,
               they
               both
               wag'd
            
             
               The
               fight
               so
               well
               ,
               't
               was
               hard
               to
               say
            
             
               Which
               side
               was
               like
               to
               get
               the
               day
               .
            
             
               And
               now
               the
               busie
               work
               of
               death
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               Ralpho
               prest
               up
               to
               Hudibras
               ,
            
             
               And
               Cerdon
               where
               Magnano
               was
               ;
            
             
               Each
               striving
               to
               confirm
               his
               party
            
             
               With
               stour
               encouragements
               &
               hearty
               .
            
             
               Quoth
               Ralpho
               ,
               Courage
               ,
               valiant
               Sir
               ,
            
             
               And
               ler
               revenge
               and
               honour
               stir
            
             
               Your
               spirits
               up
               ,
               once
               more
               fall
               on
               ,
            
             
               The
               shatter'd
               soe
               begins
               to
               run
               :
            
             
               For
               if
               but
               half
               so
               well
               you
               knew
            
             
               To
               use
               your
               Victory
               as
               subdue
               ,
            
             
               They
               durst
               not
               ,
               after
               such
               a
               blow
            
             
               As
               you
               have
               giv'n
               them
               ,
               face
               us
               now
               ;
            
             
             
               But
               from
               so
               formidable
               a
               Souldier
            
             
               Had
               fled
               like
               Crows
               when
               they
               smell
               powder
               .
            
             
               Thrice
               have
               they
               seen
               your
               Sword
               aloft
            
             
               Wav'd
               o're
               their
               heads
               ,
               and
               fled
               as
               oft
               .
            
             
               But
               if
               you
               let
               them
               recollect
            
             
               Their
               spirits
               ,
               now
               dismay'd
               and
               checkt
               ,
            
             
               You
               'l
               have
               a
               harder
               game
               to
               play
               ,
            
             
               Then
               yet
               y'have
               had
               to
               get
               the
               day
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thus
               spoke
               the
               stout
               Squire
               ;
               but
               was
               heard
            
             
               Of
               Hudibras
               with
               small
               regard
               .
            
             
               His
               thoughts
               were
               fuller
               of
               the
               bang
            
             
               He
               lately
               took
               ,
               then
               
               Ralph's
               harangue
               ;
            
             
               To
               which
               he
               answer'd
               ,
               Cruel
               fate
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               I
               am
               for
               action
               now
               unfit
               ,
            
             
               Either
               of
               fortitude
               or
               wit.
            
             
               
                 Fortune
                 my
                 foe
              
               begins
               to
               frown
               ,
            
             
               Resolv'd
               to
               pull
               my
               stomack
               down
               .
            
             
               I
               am
               not
               apt
               upon
               a
               wound
               ,
            
             
               Or
               trivial
               basting
               ,
               to
               despond
               :
            
             
               Yet
               I
               'd
               be
               loath
               my
               days
               to
               curtal
               .
            
             
               For
               if
               I
               thought
               my
               wounds
               not
               mortal
               ,
            
             
               Or
               that
               we
               'd
               time
               enough
               as
               yet
            
             
               To
               make
               an
               honourable
               retreat
               ,
            
             
             
               T
               were
               the
               best
               course
               :
               but
               if
               they
               find
            
             
               We
               flie
               ,
               and
               leave
               our
               Arms
               behind
               ,
            
             
               For
               them
               to
               seize
               on
               ,
               the
               dishonour
            
             
               And
               danger
               too
               is
               such
               ,
               I
               'le
               sooner
            
             
               Stand
               to
               it
               boldly
               ,
               and
               take
               quarter
               ,
            
             
               To
               let
               them
               see
               I
               am
               no
               starter
               .
            
             
               In
               all
               the
               trade
               of
               War
               ,
               no
               feat
            
             
               Is
               nobler
               than
               a
               brave
               retreat
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               said
               ,
               the
               Squire
               with
               active
               speed
            
             
               Dismounted
               from
               his
               bonny
               Steed
               ,
            
             
               To
               seize
               the
               Arms
               which
               by
               mischance
            
             
               F●…ll
               from
               the
               bold
               Knight
               in
               a
               ●…rance
               .
            
             
               These
               being
               found
               out
               ,
               and
               restor'd
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               VVhom
               Orsin
               ,
               who
               had
               newly
               drest
            
             
               The
               bloody
               scarupon
               the
               shoulder
            
             
               Of
               Talgol
               with
               Promethean
               powder
               ,
            
             
               And
               now
               was
               searching
               for
               the
               shot
            
             
               That
               said
               Magnano
               on
               the
               spot
               ,
            
             
             
               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
               ,
               'T
               is
               now
               no
               time
               to
               dally
               ,
            
             
               The
               enemy
               begins
               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
               ,
            
             
               Striving
               the
               enemy
               to
               attack
               ,
            
             
               Before
               he
               reacht
               his
               horse's
               back
               .
            
             
               Ralpho
               was
               mounted
               now
               ,
               &
               gotten
            
             
               O'rethwart
               his
               Beast
               with
               active
               vaut
               -
            
             
               Wrigling
               his
               body
               to
               recover
               (
               ing
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               sown
               .
            
             
               Meanwhile
               the
               Knight
               began
               to
               rouse
            
             
               The
               sparkles
               of
               his
               wonted
               prowess
               ;
            
             
               He
               thrust
               his
               hand
               into
               his
               hose
               ,
            
             
               And
               found
               both
               by
               his
               eys
               and
               nose
               ,
            
             
             
               'T
               was
               only
               Choler
               ,
               and
               not
               blood
               ,
            
             
               That
               from
               his
               wounded
               body
               flow'd
               .
            
             
               This
               ,
               with
               the
               hazard
               of
               the
               Squire
               ,
            
             
               Inflam'd
               him
               with
               despightful
               ire
               ;
            
             
               Couragiously
               he
               fac'd
               about
               ,
            
             
               And
               drew
               his
               other
               Pistol
               out
               ,
            
             
               And
               now
               had
               half-way
               bent
               the
               cock
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               The
               Knight
               his
               Sword
               had
               only
               left
               ,
            
             
               With
               which
               he
               
               Cerdon's
               head
               had
               clest
               ,
            
             
               Or
               at
               the
               least
               cropt
               off
               a
               limb
               ,
            
             
               But
               Orsin
               came
               and
               rescu'd
               him
               .
            
             
               He
               with
               his
               Launce
               attack'd
               the
               Knight
            
             
               Upon
               his
               quarters
               opposite
               .
            
             
               But
               as
               a
               Bark
               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
               :
            
             
               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
            
             
               H●…t
               Cerdon
               such
               a
               bang
               ,
               as
               stunn'd
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               To
               bear
               thee
               company
               in
               death
               :
            
             
               But
               first
               I
               'le
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               cure
               the
               hurt
               he
               made
               before
               .
            
             
               Meanwhile
               the
               Knight
               had
               wheel'd
               about
               ,
            
             
               To
               breath
               himself
               ,
               and
               next
               find
               out
            
             
               Th'
               advantage
               of
               the
               ground
               ,
               where
               best
            
             
               He
               might
               the
               ruffled
               foe
               infest
               .
            
             
               This
               b'ing
               resolv'd
               ,
               he
               spurr'd
               his
               steed
               ,
            
             
               To
               run
               at
               Orsin
               with
               full
               speed
               ,
            
             
               While
               he
               was
               busie
               in
               the
               care
            
             
               Of
               
               Cerdon's
               wound
               ,
               and
               unaware
               :
            
             
               But
               he
               was
               quick
               ,
               and
               had
               already
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               With
               forces
               joyn'd
               renew
               the
               sight
               .
            
             
               Ralpho
               by
               this
               time
               disentranc'd
               ,
            
             
               Upon
               his
               Bum
               himself
               advanc'd
               ,
            
             
             
               Though
               sorely
               bruis'd
               ;
               his
               limbs
               all
               o're
            
             
               With
               ruthless
               bangs
               were
               stiff
               and
               sore
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               we
               once
               more
               as
               Conquerours
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               And
               some
               lye
               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
               ,
            
             
               In
               one
               day
               ,
               
                 Veni
                 ,
                 vidi
                 ,
                 vici
              
               .
            
             
               The
               Foe
               's
               so
               numerous
               ,
               that
               we
            
             
               Cannot
               so
               often
               vincere
            
             
               As
               they
               perire
               ,
               and
               yet
               enough
            
             
               Be
               left
               to
               strike
               an
               after-blow
               .
            
             
               Then
               lest
               they
               rally
               ,
               and
               once
               more
            
             
               Put
               us
               to
               fight
               the
               bus'ness
               o're
               ,
            
             
               Get
               up
               ,
               and
               mount
               thy
               Steed
               ,
               dispatch
               ,
            
             
               And
               let
               us
               both
               their
               motions
               watch
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Ralph
               ,
               I
               should
               not
               ,
               if
               I
               were
            
             
               In
               case
               for
               action
               ,
               now
               be
               her●…
               ;
            
             
             
               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
               setch
               off
               your
               Arms.
            
             
               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
            
             
               To
               those
               who
               now
               are
               run
               away
               .
            
          
           
             
               That
               thou
               shalt
               not
               (
               quoth
               
                 Hudibras
                 :
              
               )
            
             
               We
               read
               ,
               the
               Antients
               held
               it
               was
            
             
               More
               honourable
               far
               Servare
            
             
               Civem
               ,
               then
               slay
               an
               adversary
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               steer'd
               him
               gently
               toward
               the
               Squire
               :
            
             
               Then
               bowing
               down
               his
               body
               ,
               stretcht
            
             
               His
               hand
               out
               ,
               and
               at
               Ralpho
               reacht
               ;
            
             
               When
               Trulla
               ,
               whom
               he
               did
               not
               mind
               ,
            
             
               Charg'd
               him
               like
               Lightening
               behind
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               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
            
             
               To
               succour
               him
               ;
               for
               as
               he
               bo'wd
            
             
               To
               help
               him
               up
               ,
               she
               laid
               a
               load
            
             
               Of
               blows
               so
               heavy
               ,
               and
               plac'd
               so
               well
               ,
            
             
               On
               th'
               other
               side
               ,
               that
               down
               he
               fell
               .
            
          
           
             
               Yield
               ,
               Scoundrel
               base
               (
               quoth
               she
               )
               or
               die
               ;
            
             
               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're
               afresh
               ,
            
             
               I
               'le
               wave
               my
               title
               to
               thy
               flesh
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               Arms
               and
               baggage
               ,
               now
               my
               right
               :
            
             
               And
               if
               thou
               hast
               the
               heart
               to
               try'r
               ,
            
             
               I
               'le
               lend
               thee
               back
               thy self
               a
               while
               ,
            
             
               And
               once
               more
               for
               that
               Carcase
               vile
            
             
               Fight
               upo●…tick
               —
               Quoth
               Hudibras
               ,
            
          
           
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               some
               to
               other
               worlds
               dispatcht
               ,
            
             
               Now
               with
               a
               feeble
               Spinster
               matcht
               ,
            
             
             
               Will
               blush
               with
               blood
               ignoble
               stain'd
               ,
            
             
               By
               which
               no
               her●…
               ur's
               to
               be
               gain'd
               .
            
             
               But
               if
               thou
               'lt
               take
               m'
               advice
               in
               this
               ,
            
             
               Consider
               while
               thou
               mayst
               ,
               what
               't
               is
            
             
               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
               )
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               To
               shew
               how
               much
               she
               priz'd
               his
               speech
               )
            
             
               Quarter
               or
               counsel
               from
               a
               soe
               :
            
             
               If
               thou
               canst
               force
               me
               to
               it
               ,
               do
               .
            
             
               But
               lest
               it
               should
               again
               be
               sed
               ,
            
             
               When
               I
               have
               once
               more
               wore
               thy
               head
               ,
            
             
               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
               prest
               so
               home
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
             
               The
               blows
               he
               felt
               or
               was
               to
               feel
               ,
            
             
               Although
               th'
               already
               made
               him
               reel
               .
            
             
               Honour
               ,
               despight
               ,
               revenge
               ,
               and
               shame
               ,
            
             
               At
               once
               unto
               his
               stomack
               came
               ;
            
             
               Which
               fir'd
               it
               so
               ,
               he
               rais'd
               his
               arm
            
             
               Above
               his
               head
               ,
               and
               rain'd
               a
               storm
            
             
               Of
               blows
               so
               terrible
               and
               thick
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               be
               meant
               to
               hash
               her
               quick
               .
            
             
               But
               she
               upon
               her
               truncheon
               took
               them
               ,
            
             
               And
               by
               oblique
               diversion
               broke
               them
               ;
            
             
               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
               deside
               the
               fight
               ,
            
             
               And
               she
               with
               quick
               and
               cunning
               slight
            
             
               Avoiding
               it
               ,
               the
               force
               and
               weight
            
             
               He
               charg'd
               upon
               it
               was
               so
               great
               ,
            
             
               As
               almost
               sway'd
               him
               to
               the
               ground
               .
            
             
               No
               sooner
               she
               th'
               advantage
               found
               ,
            
             
               But
               in
               she
               flew
               ,
               and
               seconding
            
             
               With
               home-made
               thrust
               the
               heavy
               swing
               ,
            
             
               She
               said
               him
               flat
               upon
               his
               side
               ,
            
             
               And
               mounting
               on
               his
               trunk
               a-stride
               ,
            
             
               Quoth
               she
               ,
               I
               told
               thee
               what
               would
               come
            
             
               Of
               all
               thy
               vapouring
               ,
               base
               Scum.
            
             
               Shall
               I
               have
               quarrer
               now
               ?
               you
               Ruffin
               ;
            
             
               Or
               wilt
               thou
               be
               worse
               than
               thy
               huffing
               ?
               (
               thou
               :
            
             
               Thou
               saidst
               th'
               woud'st
               kill
               me
               ,
               marry
               woud'it
            
             
               Why
               dost
               thou
               not
               ,
               thou
               Jack-a-Nods
               thou
               ?
            
             
             
               Why
               dost
               not
               put
               me
               to
               the
               sword
               ?
            
             
               But
               cowardly
               flie
               from
               thy
               word
               ?
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Hudibras
               ,
               the
               day
               's
               thine
               own
               ;
            
             
               Thou
               and
               thy
               stars
               have
               cast
               me
               down
               :
            
             
               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
               :
            
             
               Sarcasmes
               may
               eclipse
               thine
               own
               ,
            
             
               But
               cannot
               blur
               my
               lost
               renown
               :
            
             
               I
               am
               not
               now
               in
               Fortunes
               power
               ,
            
             
               
                 He
                 that
                 is
                 down
                 can
                 fall
                 no
                 lower
                 .
              
            
             
               The
               antient
               Heroes
               were
               illustrious
            
             
               For
               being
               benigne
               ,
               and
               not
               blustrous
               ,
            
             
               Against
               a
               vanquisht
               foe
               :
               their
               swords
            
             
               Were
               sharp
               and
               trencheant
               ,
               not
               their
               words
               ;
            
             
               And
               did
               in
               fight
               but
               cut
               work
               out
            
             
               T'
               employ
               their
               courtesies
               about
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               she
               ,
               Although
               thou
               hast
               deserv'd
               ,
            
             
               Base
               Slubberdegullion
               ,
               to
               be
               serv'd
            
             
               As
               thou
               didst
               vow
               to
               deal
               with
               me
               ,
            
             
               If
               thou
               hadst
               got
               the
               Victory
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               I
               shall
               rather
               act
               a
               part
            
             
               That
               suits
               my
               fame
               ,
               than
               thy
               desert
               .
            
             
               Thy
               Arms
               ,
               thy
               liberty
               ,
               beside
            
             
               All
               that
               's
               on
               th'
               outside
               of
               thy
               hide
               ,
            
             
               Are
               mine
               by
               military
               law
               ,
            
             
               Of
               which
               I
               will
               not
               bate
               one
               straw
               :
            
             
             
               The
               rest
               ,
               thy
               life
               and
               limbs
               ,
               once
               more
               ,
            
             
               Though
               doubly
               forfeit
               ,
               I
               restore
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Hudibras
               ,
               it
               is
               to
               late
            
             
               For
               me
               to
               treat
               ,
               or
               stipulate
               ;
            
             
               What
               thou
               command'st
               I
               must
               obey
               :
            
             
               Yet
               those
               whom
               I
               expugn'd
               to
               day
               .
            
             
               Of
               thine
               own
               party
               ,
               I
               let
               go
               ,
            
             
               And
               gave
               them
               life
               ,
               and
               freedom
               too
               ,
            
             
               Both
               Dogs
               and
               Bear
               ,
               upon
               their
               parol
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               I
               took
               pris'ners
               in
               this
               quarrel
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Trulla
               ,
               Whether
               thou
               or
               they
            
             
               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
              
               :
            
             
               Where
               still
               he
               lies
               ,
               and
               with
               regret
            
             
               His
               generous
               bowels
               rage
               and
               fret
               .
            
             
               But
               now
               thy
               Carcase
               shall
               redeem
               ,
            
             
               And
               serve
               to
               be
               exchange
               for
               him
               .
            
          
           
             
               This
               said
               ,
               the
               Knight
               did
               straight
               submit
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Take
               that
               ,
               and
               wear
               it
               for
               my
               sake
               ;
            
             
               Then
               threw
               it
               o're
               his
               sturdy
               back
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               as
               the
               French
               we
               conquer'd
               once
               ,
            
             
               Now
               give
               us
               Laws
               for
               Pantaloons
               ,
            
             
               The
               length
               of
               Breeches
               ,
               and
               the
               gathers
               ,
            
             
               Port-canons
               ,
               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
               ,
            
             
               Arriv'd
               ,
               when
               
               Trulla'd
               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
            
             
               Upon
               him
               in
               a
               wooden
               showre
               .
            
             
               But
               Trulla
               thrust
               her self
               between
               ,
            
             
               And
               striding
               o're
               his
               back
               agen
               ,
            
             
               She
               brandisht
               o're
               her
               head
               his
               sword
               ,
            
             
               And
               vow'd
               they
               should
               not
               break
               her
               word
               ;
            
             
               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
            
             
               By
               Hudibras
               ,
               as
               yet
               lay
               fast
               ,
            
             
               Where
               ,
               to
               the
               hard
               and
               ruthless
               stones
               ,
            
             
               His
               great
               heart
               made
               perpetual
               mones
               .
            
             
               Him
               she
               resolv'd
               that
               Hudibras
            
             
               Should
               ransome
               ,
               and
               supply
               ,
               his
               place
               .
            
          
           
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               Crowdero
               ought
               to
               be
               releas'd
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               could
               that
               any
               way
               be
               done
            
             
               So
               well
               as
               this
               she
               pitcht
               upon
               :
            
             
               For
               who
               a
               better
               could
               imagine
               ?
            
             
               This
               therefore
               they
               resolv'd
               t'
               engage
               in
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Knight
               and
               Squier
               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
               his
               beast
               ,
            
             
               And
               Talgol
               that
               which
               Ralpho
               prest
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               stout
               Magnano
               ,
               valiant
               Cerdon
               ,
            
             
               And
               Colon
               waited
               as
               a
               Guard
               on
               .
            
             
               All
               ush'ring
               Trnlla
               ,
               in
               the
               Rear
               ,
            
             
               With
               th'
               Arms
               of
               either
               Prisoner
               .
            
             
             
               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
               ,
               then
               shows
            
             
               And
               triumphs
               over
               conquer'd
               foes
            
             
               Do
               use
               t'
               allow
               ,
               or
               then
               the
               Bears
               ,
            
             
               Or
               Pageants
               born
               before
               
                 Lord
                 Mayors
              
            
             
               Are
               wont
               to
               use
               ,
               they
               soon
               arriv'd
               ,
            
             
               In
               order
               Souldier-like
               contriv'd
               ,
            
             
               Still
               marching
               in
               a
               warlike
               posture
               ,
            
             
               As
               fit
               for
               Battel
               as
               for
               Muster
               .
            
             
               The
               Knight
               and
               Squire
               they
               first
               unhorse
               ,
            
             
               And
               bending
               'gainst
               the
               Fort
               their
               force
               ,
            
             
               They
               all
               advanc't
               ,
               and
               round
               about
               ,
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Restor'd
               t'
               his
               Fiddle
               ,
               and
               his
               Case
               ,
            
             
               And
               liberty
               ,
               his
               thirsty
               rage
            
             
               With
               lushious
               vengeance
               to
               asswage
               .
            
             
               For
               he
               no
               sooner
               was
               at
               large
               ,
            
             
               But
               Trulla
               straight
               brought
               on
               her
               charge
               ,
            
             
             
               And
               in
               the
               self-same
               Limbo
               put
            
             
               The
               Knight
               and
               Squire
               ,
               where
               he
               was
               shut
               .
            
             
               Where
               leaving
               them
               in
               
                 Hockly
                 i'
                 th'
                 hole
              
               ,
            
             
               Their
               bangs
               and
               durance
               to
               condole
               ,
            
             
               Confin'd
               and
               conjur'd
               into
               narrow
            
             
               Enchanted
               Mansion
               ,
               to
               know
               sorrow
               ;
            
             
               In
               the
               same
               order
               and
               array
            
             
               Which
               they
               advanc'd
               ,
               they
               marcht
               away
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               Hudibras
               ,
               who
               scorn'd
               to
               stoop
            
             
               To
               Fortune
               ,
               or
               be
               said
               to
               droop
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               What
               e're
               the
               other
               moity
               feels
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               not
               restraint
               or
               liberty
            
             
               That
               makes
               men
               prisoners
               or
               free
               ;
            
             
               But
               perturbations
               that
               possess
            
             
               The
               mind
               or
               Aequanimities
               .
            
             
               The
               whole
               world
               was
               not
               half
               so
               wide
            
             
               To
               Alexander
               ,
               when
               he
               cry'd
            
             
               Because
               he
               had
               but
               one
               to
               subdue
               ,
            
             
               As
               was
               a
               paultry
               narrow
               tub
               to
            
             
               Diogenes
               ,
               who
               is
               not
               sed
            
             
               (
               For
               ought
               that
               ever
               I
               could
               read
               )
            
             
               To
               whine
               ,
               put
               finger
               i'
               th'
               eye
               ,
               and
               sob
            
             
               Because
               h'
               had
               ne're
               another
               Tub.
            
             
             
               The
               Antients
               make
               two
               several
               kinds
            
             
               Of
               Prowess
               in
               heroick
               minds
               ,
            
             
               The
               Active
               ,
               and
               the
               Passive
               valiant
               ;
            
             
               Both
               which
               are
               
                 pari
                 librâ
              
               gallant
               :
            
             
               For
               both
               to
               give
               blows
               ,
               and
               to
               carry
               ,
            
             
               In
               fights
               are
               equenecessary
               ,
            
             
               But
               in
               defeats
               ,
               the
               passive
               stout
               ,
            
             
               Are
               always
               found
               to
               stand
               it
               out
            
             
               Most
               desp●…rately
               ,
               and
               to
               out-do
            
             
               The
               active
               ,
               'gainst
               a
               conqu'ring
               foe
               .
            
             
               Though
               we
               with
               blacks
               and
               blews
               are
               suggill'd
               ,
            
             
               Or
               ,
               as
               the
               Vulgar
               say
               ,
               are
               cudgell'd
               :
            
             
               He
               that
               is
               valant
               ,
               and
               dares
               fight
               ,
            
             
               Though
               drub'd
               ,
               can
               lose
               no
               honour
               by
               't
               .
            
             
               Honour
               's
               
                 a
                 leaf
                 for
                 time
                 to
                 come
                 ,
              
            
             
               And
               cannot
               be
               extended
               from
            
             
               The
               legal
               Tenant
               :
               't
               is
               a
               Chattel
               ,
            
             
               Not
               to
               be
               forfeited
               in
               battel
               .
            
             
               If
               he
               that
               is
               in
               battel
               slain
               ,
            
             
               Be
               in
               the
               
                 Bed
                 of
                 Honour
              
               lain
               ;
            
             
               He
               that
               is
               beaten
               may
               be
               sed
            
             
               To
               lye
               in
               Honour's
               Truckle-bed
               .
            
             
               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
            
             
               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
               over-grown
               with
               wit.
            
             
               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
            
             
               Know
               you
               ●…o
               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
               ;
            
             
               A
               politick
               exploir
               ,
               tight
               fit
               ,
            
             
               For
               
                 Presbyterian
                 zeal
              
               and
               wit.
               
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Hudibras
               ,
               That
               Cuckow
               's
               tone
               ,
            
             
               Ralpho
               ,
               thou
               always
               harp'st
               upon
               :
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               any
               thing
               wouldst
               rail
               ,
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               Presbytery
               thy
               scale
            
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               height
               ou'r
               ,
               and
               explain
            
             
               To
               what
               degree
               it
               is
               prophane
               .
            
             
               What
               's
               '
               ever
               will
               not
               with
               thy
               
                 (
                 what
                 d'
                 y'
                 call
              
               )
            
             
               Thy
               light
               jump
               right
               ,
               thou
               call'st
               Synodical
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               Presbytery
               were
               a
               standard
            
             
               〈◊〉
               what
               's
               ever
               's
               to
               be
               slander'd
               .
            
             
               〈◊〉
               not
               remember
               ,
               how
               this
               day
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               to
               my
               beard
               wast
               bold
               to
               say
               ,
            
             
             
               That
               thou
               couldst
               prove
               Bear-baiting
               equal
            
             
               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
            
             
               That
               has
               but
               any
               
                 guts
                 in
                 's
                 brains
              
               ,
            
             
               And
               could
               believe
               it
               worth
               his
               pains
               .
            
             
               But
               since
               you
               dare
               and
               urge
               me
               to
               it
               ,
            
             
               You
               'l
               find
               l
               've
               light
               enough
               to
               do
               it
               .
            
          
           
             
               Synods
               are
               mystical
               Bear-gardens
               ,
            
             
               Where
               
                 Elders
                 ,
                 Deputies
                 ,
                 Church-wardens
              
               ,
            
             
               And
               other
               Members
               of
               the
               Court
               ,
            
             
               Manage
               the
               Babylonish
               sport
               .
            
             
               For
               
                 Prolocutor
                 ,
                 Scribe
              
               ,
               and
               Bearward
               ,
            
             
               Do
               differ
               only
               in
               a
               meet
               word
               .
            
             
               Both
               are
               but
               sev'ral
               Synagogues
            
             
               Of
               
                 carnal
                 Men
              
               ,
               and
               Bears
               and
               Dogs
               :
            
             
               Both
               
                 Antichristian
                 Assemblies
              
               ,
            
             
               To
               mischief
               bent
               as
               far
               's
               in
               them
               lies
               :
            
             
               Both
               stave
               and
               tail
               ,
               with
               fierce
               contests
               ,
            
             
               The
               one
               with
               men
               ,
               the
               other
               beasts
               .
            
             
               The
               dist'rence
               is
               ,
               the
               one
               fights
               with
            
             
               The
               tongue
               ,
               the
               other
               with
               the
               teeth
               :
            
             
               And
               that
               they
               b●…it
               but
               Bears
               in
               this
               ,
            
             
               In
               th'
               other
               Souls
               and
               Consciences
               ;
            
             
               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
               ;
            
             
               Then
               whom
               th'
               have
               less
               humanity
               ,
            
             
               For
               these
               at
               souls
               of
               men
               will
               flie
               .
            
             
               This
               to
               the
               Prophet
               did
               appear
               ,
            
             
               Who
               in
               a
               Vision
               saw
               a
               Bear
               ,
            
             
               Prefiguring
               the
               beastly
               rage
            
             
               Of
               Church-rule
               in
               this
               latter
               age
               :
            
             
               As
               is
               demonstrated
               at
               full
            
             
               By
               him
               that
               baited
               the
               
               Pope's
               Bull
               ,
            
             
               Bears
               naturally
               are
               beasts
               of
               Prey
               ,
            
             
               That
               live
               by
               rapine
               so
               do
               they
               .
            
             
               What
               are
               their
               
                 Orders
                 ,
                 Constitutions
              
               ,
            
             
               
                 Church
                 censures
                 ,
                 Curses
                 ,
                 Absolutions
                 ,
              
            
             
               But
               sev'ral
               mystick
               chains
               they
               make
               ,
            
             
               To
               tye
               poor
               Christians
               to
               the
               stake
               ?
            
             
               And
               then
               set
               heathen
               Officers
               ,
            
             
               Instead
               of
               Dogs
               ,
               about
               their
               ears
               ,
            
             
               For
               to
               prohibit
               and
               dispence
               ,
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               And
               mulcts
               on
               sin
               or
               godliness
               ;
            
             
               Reduce
               the
               Church
               to
               Gospel-order
               ,
            
             
               By
               
                 Rapi●…
                 ,
                 Sacriledge
              
               ,
               and
               Marther
               :
            
             
               To
               make
               Presbytery
               sup●…am
               ,
            
             
               And
               Kings
               themselves
               submit
               to
               them
               ;
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               Are
               dispensations
               and
               gifts
               ,
            
             
               There
               godliness
               becomes
               meer
               ware
               ,
            
             
               And
               ev'ry
               Synod
               but
               a
               Fair.
               
            
          
           
             
               Synods
               are
               whelps
               of
               th'
               Inquisition
               ,
            
             
               A
               mungrel
               breed
               of
               like
               petnicion
               ,
            
             
               And
               growing
               up
               became
               the
               Sires
            
             
               Of
               
                 Scribes
                 ,
                 Commissioners
              
               ,
               and
               Triers
               :
            
             
               Whose
               bus'ness
               is
               ,
               by
               cunning
               sleight
               ,
            
             
               To
               cast
               a
               figure
               for
               mens
               Light
               :
            
             
               To
               find
               in
               lines
               of
               beard
               and
               face
               ,
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               By
               
                 black
                 caps
              
               ,
               underlaid
               with
               white
               ,
            
             
               Give
               certain
               guess
               at
               inward
               Light
               ;
            
             
               Which
               
                 Serjeants
                 at
                 the
                 Gospel
              
               wear
               ,
            
             
               To
               make
               their
               
                 spiritual
                 calling
              
               clear
               .
            
             
               The
               
                 hand
                 kercher
              
               about
               the
               neck
               ,
            
             
               (
               Canonical
               Crabat
               of
               Smeck
               ,
            
             
               From
               whom
               the
               institution
               came
               ,
            
             
               When
               Church
               &
               State
               they
               set
               on
               flame
               ,
            
             
               And
               worn
               by
               them
               as
               badges
               then
            
             
               Of
               
                 spiritual
                 warfaring
              
               men
               )
            
             
             
               Judge
               rightly
               if
               Regeneration
            
             
               Be
               of
               the
               
                 newest
                 cut
              
               in
               fashion
               .
            
             
               Sure
               't
               is
               an
               Orthodox
               opinion
               ,
            
             
               That
               
                 grace
                 is
                 founded
                 in
                 dominion
              
               .
            
             
               Great
               piety
               consists
               in
               pride
               ;
            
             
               To
               rule
               ,
               is
               to
               be
               sanctifi'd
               :
            
             
               To
               domineer
               ,
               and
               to
               controul
               ,
            
             
               Both
               o're
               the
               body
               ,
               and
               the
               soul
               ,
            
             
               Is
               the
               most
               perfect
               Discipline
            
             
               Of
               Church-rule
               ,
               and
               by
               
                 right
                 divine
              
               .
            
             
               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
               ,
            
             
               They
               must
               have
               wealth
               and
               power
               too
               ,
            
             
               Or
               else
               with
               blood
               and
               desolation
               ,
            
             
               They
               'l
               tear
               it
               out
               o'
               th'
               heart
               o'
               th'
               Nation
               .
            
          
           
             
               Sure
               these
               themselves
               from
               Primitive
            
             
               And
               Heathen
               Priesthood
               do
               derive
               ,
            
             
               When
               Butchers
               were
               the
               only
               Clerks
               ,
            
             
               Elders
               and
               Presbrters
               of
               Kirks
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Directory
               was
               to
               kill
               ;
            
             
               And
               some
               believe
               it
               is
               so
               still
               .
            
             
               The
               only
               diff'rence
               is
               ,
               that
               then
            
             
               They
               slaughter'd
               only
               beasts
               ,
               now
               men
               ,
            
             
               For
               then
               to
               sacrifice
               a
               bullock
               ,
            
             
               Or
               now
               and
               then
               a
               child
               to
               Molock
               ,
            
             
             
               They
               count
               a
               vile
               Abomination
               ,
            
             
               But
               not
               to
               slaughter
               a
               whole
               Nation
               .
            
             
               Presbytery
               does
               but
               translate
            
             
               The
               Papacy
               to
               a
               Free-state
               ,
            
             
               A
               
                 Common-wealth
                 of
                 Popery
              
               ,
            
             
               Where
               ev'ry
               Village
               is
               a
               See
            
             
               As
               well
               as
               Rome
               ,
               and
               must
               maintain
            
             
               A
               Tithe-pig-Metropolitan
               :
            
             
               Where
               ev'ry
               Presbyter
               and
               Deacon
            
             
               Commands
               the
               Keyes
               for
               Cheese
               and
               Bacon
               ;
            
             
               And
               ev'ry
               Hamlet's
               governed
            
             
               By
               's
               Holinesse
               ,
               the
               
                 Church's
                 head
              
               ,
            
             
               More
               haughty
               and
               severe
               in
               's
               place
            
             
               Then
               Gregory
               and
               Boniface
               .
            
             
               Such
               Charch
               must
               (
               surely
               )
               be
               a
               Monster
            
             
               With
               many
               heads
               :
               for
               if
               we
               conster
            
             
               What
               in
               th'
               Apocalyps
               we
               find
               ,
            
             
               According
               to
               th'
               Apostle's
               mind
               ,
            
             
               'T
               is
               that
               the
               
                 Whore
                 of
                 Babylon
              
            
             
               
                 With
                 many
                 heads
              
               did
               ride
               upon
               ;
            
             
               Which
               heads
               denote
               the
               sinfull
               tribe
            
             
               Of
               
                 Deacon
                 ,
                 Priest
                 ,
                 Lay-elder
                 ,
                 Scribe
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Lay-elder
                 ,
                 Simeon
              
               to
               Levi
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               little
               finger
               is
               as
               heavy
            
             
               As
               loyns
               of
               Patriarchs
               ,
               Prince-Prelate
               ,
            
             
               And
               Bishop-secular
               .
               This
               Zealot
            
             
               Is
               of
               a
               mungrel
               ,
               diverse
               kind
               ,
            
             
               Clerick
               before
               ,
               and
               Lay
               behind
               ;
            
             
               A
               lawlesse
               
                 linsie-wolsie
                 Brother
              
               ,
            
             
               Half
               of
               one
               Order
               ,
               half
               another
               ;
            
             
             
               A
               Creature
               of
               amphibious
               nature
               ,
            
             
               On
               land
               a
               Beast
               ,
               a
               Fish
               in
               water
               ;
            
             
               That
               alwayes
               preys
               on
               Grace
               ,
               or
               Sin
               ;
            
             
               A
               Sheep
               without
               ,
               a
               Wolf
               within
               .
            
             
               This
               fieroe
               Inquisitor
               has
               chief
            
             
               Dominion
               over
               mens
               Belief
            
             
               And
               Manners
               ;
               can
               pronounce
               a
               Saint
            
             
               Idolatrous
               ,
               or
               ignorant
               ,
            
             
               When
               superciliously
               he
               sifts
            
             
               Through
               coursest
               boulter
               others
               gifts
               .
            
             
               For
               all
               men
               live
               and
               judge
               amiss
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Talents
               jump
               not
               just
               with
               his
               .
            
             
               He
               'l
               lay
               on
               Gifts
               with
               hands
               ,
               and
               place
            
             
               On
               dullest
               noddle
               light
               and
               grace
               ,
            
             
               The
               manufacture
               of
               the
               Kirk
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Pastors
               are
               but
               th'
               Handiwork
            
             
               Of
               his
               Mechanick
               Paws
               ,
               instilling
            
             
               Divinity
               in
               them
               by
               feeling
               ,
            
             
               From
               whence
               they
               start
               up
               
                 chosen
                 vessel
                 :
              
               ,
            
             
               Made
               by
               Contract
               ,
               as
               men
               get
               Meazels
               .
            
             
               So
               Cardinals
               ,
               they
               say
               ,
               do
               grone
            
             
               At
               th'
               other
               end
               the
               new-made
               Pope
               .
            
          
           
             
               Hold
               ,
               hold
               ,
               quoth
               
                 Hudibras
                 ,
                 Soft
                 fire
              
            
             
               They
               say
               ,
               
                 does
                 make
                 sweet
                 Mault
              
               .
               Good
               Squire
               ,
            
             
               
                 Festina
                 lente
              
               ,
               not
               too
               fast
               ,
            
             
               For
               haste
               (
               the
               Proverb
               sayes
               )
               
                 makes
                 waste
              
               .
            
             
               The
               Quicks
               and
               Cavils
               thou
               dost
               make
            
             
               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
               .
            
             
               I
               'le
               force
               you
               by
               right
               ratiocination
            
             
               To
               leave
               your
               Vitilitigation
               ,
            
             
               And
               make
               you
               keep
               to
               th'
               question
               close
               ,
            
             
               And
               argue
               
                 Dialectic
                 
                   〈◊〉
                   〈◊〉
                   〈◊〉
                   〈◊〉
                   〈◊〉
                
              
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Question
               then
               ,
               to
               state
               it
               first
               ,
            
             
               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
              
               .
            
             
               If
               so
               ,
               not
               worst
               ;
               for
               if
               th'
               are
               idem
               ,
            
             
               Why
               that
               
                 Tantundem
                 dat
                 tantidem
              
               .
            
             
               For
               if
               they
               are
               the
               same
               ,
               by
               course
            
             
               Neither
               is
               better
               ,
               neither
               worse
               .
            
             
               But
               I
               deny
               they
               are
               the
               same
               ,
            
             
               More
               then
               a
               Maggot
               and
               I
               am
               .
            
             
               That
               both
               are
               Animalia
               ,
            
             
               I
               grant
               ,
               but
               not
               Rationalia
               :
            
             
               For
               though
               they
               do
               agree
               in
               kind
               ,
            
             
               Specifick
               difference
               we
               find
               ,
            
             
               And
               can
               no
               more
               make
               Bears
               of
               these
               ,
            
             
               Then
               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
               ,
            
             
               Whats'ever
               
               Assembly's
               not
               impow'rd
            
             
               To
               
                 censure
                 ,
                 curse
                 ,
                 absolve
              
               ,
               and
               ordain
               ,
            
             
               Can
               be
               no
               Synod
               :
               but
               Bear-garden
            
             
               Has
               no
               such
               pow'r
               ,
               Ergo
               't
               is
               none
               .
            
             
               And
               so
               thy
               Sophistry's
               o'rethrown
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               yet
               we
               are
               beside
               the
               Question
            
             
               Which
               thou
               didst
               raise
               the
               first
               Contest
               on
               ;
            
             
               For
               that
               was
               ,
               Whether
               Bears
               are
               better
            
             
               Then
               Synod-men
               ;
               I
               say
               ,
               Negatur
               .
            
             
               That
               Bears
               are
               Beasts
               ,
               and
               
                 Synods
                 Men
              
               ,
            
             
               Is
               held
               by
               all
               :
               They
               'r
               better
               then
               .
            
             
               For
               Bears
               and
               Dogs
               on
               
                 four
                 legs
              
               go
               ,
            
             
               As
               Beasts
               ,
               but
               Synod-men
               on
               two
               .
            
             
               'T
               is
               true
               ,
               they
               all
               have
               teeth
               and
               nails
               ;
            
             
               But
               prove
               that
               Synod-men
               have
               tails
               ;
            
             
               Or
               that
               a
               rugged
               ,
               shaggy
               fur
            
             
               Crows
               o're
               the
               hide
               of
               Presbyter
               ;
            
             
               Or
               that
               his
               snout
               and
               
                 spacious
                 cars
              
               ,
            
             
               Do
               hold
               proportion
               with
               a
               
               Bear
               's
               .
            
             
               A
               
               Bear
               's
               a
               savage
               Beast
               ,
               of
               all
            
             
               Most
               ugly
               and
               unnatural
               ,
            
             
               Whelpt
               without
               form
               ,
               until
               the
               Dam
            
             
               Have
               lickt
               him
               into
               shape
               and
               frame
               :
            
             
               But
               all
               thy
               light
               can
               ne're
               evict
            
             
               That
               ever
               Synod-man
               was
               licki
               ;
            
             
               Or
               brough
               to
               any
               other
               fashion
            
             
               Then
               his
               own
               will
               and
               inclination
               .
            
             
             
               But
               thou
               dost
               further
               yer
               in
               this
            
             
               Oppugne
               thy self
               ,
               and
               sense
               ,
               that
               is
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               wouldst
               have
               Presbyters
               to
               go
            
             
               For
               Bears
               ,
               and
               Dogs
               ,
               and
               Bearwards
               too
               .
            
             
               A
               strange
               Chimara
               of
               beasts
               and
               men
               ,
            
             
               Made
               up
               of
               pieces
               Heterogene
               ,
            
             
               Such
               as
               in
               Nature
               never
               met
            
             
               
                 In
                 eodem
                 subjecto
              
               yet
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thy
               other
               Arguments
               are
               all
            
             
               Supposures
               ,
               hypothetical
               ,
            
             
               That
               do
               but
               beg
               ,
               and
               we
               may
               chuse
            
             
               Either
               to
               grant
               them
               ,
               or
               refuse
               .
            
             
               Much
               thou
               hast
               said
               ,
               which
               I
               know
               when
               ,
            
             
               And
               where
               ,
               thou
               stol'st
               from
               other
               men
               ,
            
             
               (
               Whereby
               't
               is
               plain
               ,
               thy
               light
               and
               gifts
               ,
            
             
               Are
               all
               but
               plagiary
               shifts
               ;
               )
            
             
               And
               is
               the
               same
               that
               Ranter
               sed
               ,
            
             
               That
               arguing
               with
               me
               ,
               broke
               my
               head
               ,
            
             
               And
               tore
               a
               handful
               of
               my
               beard
               :
            
             
               The
               self-same
               cavils
               then
               I
               heard
               ,
            
             
               When
               b'ing
               in
               hot
               dispute
               about
            
             
               This
               controversie
               ,
               we
               fell
               out
               ;
            
             
               And
               what
               thou
               know'st
               I
               answer'd
               then
               ,
            
             
               Will
               serve
               to
               answer
               thee
               agen
               .
            
          
           
             
               Quoth
               Ralpho
               ,
               Nothing
               but
               th'
               abuse
            
             
               Of
               
                 humane
                 learning
              
               you
               produce
               ;
            
             
               Learning
               ,
               that
               cobweb
               of
               the
               brain
               ,
            
             
               Profane
               ,
               erroneous
               ,
               and
               vain
               ;
            
             
             
               A
               trade
               of
               knowledge
               as
               repreat
            
             
               As
               others
               are
               with
               fraud
               and
               cheat
               ;
            
             
               An
               Art
               t'incumber
               Gifts
               and
               wit
               ,
            
             
               And
               render
               both
               sor
               nothing
               fit
               ;
            
             
               Makes
               light
               unactive
               ,
               dull
               and
               troubled
               ,
            
             
               Like
               little
               David
               in
               
               Saul's
               doublet
               ;
            
             
               A
               cheat
               that
               Scholars
               put
               upon
            
             
               Other
               mens
               reason
               and
               their
               own
               ;
            
             
               A
               fort
               of
               Errour
               ,
               to
               ensconce
            
             
               Absurdity
               and
               ignorance
               ;
            
             
               That
               renders
               all
               the
               avenues
            
             
               To
               Truth
               impervious
               and
               abstruse
               ,
            
             
               By
               making
               plain
               things
               ,
               in
               debate
               ,
            
             
               By
               Art
               ,
               perplext
               and
               intricate
               :
            
             
               For
               nothing
               goes
               for
               sense
               or
               Light
            
             
               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
               
                 Pagaen
                 ,
                 Heathenish
                 invention
              
            
             
               Is
               good
               for
               nothing
               but
               Contention
               ,
            
             
               For
               as
               in
               Sword-and-Buckler
               fight
               ,
            
             
               All
               blows
               do
               on
               the
               Target
               light
               :
            
             
               So
               when
               men
               argue
               ,
               the
               great'st
               part
            
             
               O'
               th'
               Contest
               falls
               on
               terms
               of
               Art
               ,
            
             
               Untill
               the
               sustian
               stuff
               be
               spent
               ,
            
             
               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
               &
               untrue
               ,
            
             
               But
               to
               the
               former
               opposite
               ,
            
             
               And
               
                 contrary
                 as
                 black
                 to
                 white
              
               ;
            
             
               Mere
               Disparata
               ,
               that
               concerning
            
             
               Presbytery
               ,
               this
               ,
               
                 Humane
                 Learning
              
               ;
            
             
               Two
               things
               s'averse
               ,
               they
               never
               yet
            
             
               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
            
             
               Then
               this
               w'
               are
               in
               :
               Therefore
               let
               's
               stop
               here
               ,
            
             
               And
               rest
               our
               weari'd
               bones
               a
               while
               ,
            
             
               Already
               tir'd
               with
               other
               toil
               .
            
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
           ERRATA
           .
        
         
           PAge
           26.
           line
           7.
           for
           po
           read
           
             do
             .
             ibid.
          
           line
           16.
           for
           Beat
           's
           read
           Bear
           's
           .
           page
           28.
           for
           
             nave
             olfact
          
           read
           
             nare
             olfact
          
           .
        
      
    
  

