Hudibras.  
THE Second Part.  
The last Edition Corrected.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1663.   

The first Canto.  
Argument.  
We sing no further o'th' disputes  
'Twixt Knight, and Squire, nor their confutes;  
Nor how by Puissant trick, or Chance,  
From Chanted Castle they advance;  
Since skilled Magicians know is well  
How to undo, as make the s●ell:  
Nor yet of Talgol, Bruin, Orson,  
Whom Writers say was but a Whoreson;  
But Hudibras more strange adventures,  
That hitherto have hung on Tenters.  
The Maypole.  
IT happened at the time when Oysters  
Began lose their Operative moistures,  
When Sol with heat did fill his Car,  
And that the Month did want an R.  
Which was before, or June, or July,  
When Country Placquets grow unruly:  
For, as the Wise say, in August  
If One won't do't, another must.  
When Cherries hardly ripened, Nod,  
And Children for 'em venture Rod;  
When Mother Nature doth disperse  
Her help to Man, (that Universe)  
When fresh blood empty veins supply,  
Which suffered by Phlebotomy;  
That he who can the Hill get o'er,  
In hope to live is, scarce before,  
When Midwife Flora's newly seen  
In Meadows gay, and Gardens green,  
The Pink, the Primrose, Tulip,- flower,  
(Offsprings of a quondam shower,)  
With Lily, Violet, and Dazy,  
The Merry-milk pales deck, which praise I,  
When Barns are freed from Mice and Rats,  
By Madam Owl, better than Cats;  
When with a Garland to be Crowned,  
The sweaty hoofs do tear the ground;  
And Fidilero and Pipero  
In every Village peep, and peer ho!  
When Mortals feed on Sage and Butter,  
Drink Whey by quarts to make 'em squtt,  
And for the Ladies of the season,  
Prepared are green Cheese and Peason,  
With Macquerels brought up in Shoals,  
Colon to fill of hungry souls;  
And Syllabub, with lip-loved Tanzie  
For Roger, is prepared by Nancy.  
When, as in Landscapes we discover  
In every shade, a lolling Lover,  
With head on lap, of female wight,  
Hand underneath her garment white,  
And she turns up her womanhood,  
Whilst Pego forages for food;  
And Surgeons put up in sheath  
Cleansed syringes for fall of leaf:  
At the same time I must not vary,  
Jack, met with Gill, and Mat with Mary;  
Which was soon after, (as 'tis said)  
Mars had laid by his Tool, and Trade,  
And All was ready to bring in  
The Maid with dimpled Cheeks, and Chin:  
When that the people might be free  
T' enjoy their (Juggled) liberty,  
As then the Bells at Westminster  
Did clapperclaw the Countries ear;  
And every creeping thing on earth  
From Cricket did incline to mirth;  
Nay, th' grand Hectorian-Olivero  
Left Ranting, and fell to Primero,  
A Game, he had long studied, but  
As some do say, was hard put to't,  
For others knew't as well as he,  
And stickled for the Mastery,  
All Hectors of his only breeding,  
For they could pray, and lie exceeding.  
And such as now remain, do claim  
From those the vigour of that Name:  
And follow all their ways of Plunder,  
Only to hear, they pray, is wonder;  
But for their lying are expert,  
And swearing they have got by heart;  
There let it lie, like fatal dagger  
In peaceful sheath, until they swagger.  
And now to what we were about,  
Which all this while we have left out.  
A jolly crew of Lads well fitted,  
And Buxom Lasses, Mother wittyed,  
Met on a day, no matter what,  
In the same month it was, that's flat;  
And that it might not lose its Name,  
They all prepared were for Game;  
Which though the learned could not scan  
To be th' Isthmean, or Nemean,  
Yet it a title had, and good,  
For, Hocktide, may be understood;  
And doth as clear construction carry  
As Bess take Tom, and Joan take Harry;  
Or Tom take Bess, and Harry Joan  
Leap over sword, and it is done;  
So the Inducted Market place  
Clapped up at once, two Babes of Grace  
Which never Issue had, but what  
The Peaceful— Justice— Parson got,  
For they all Functions did supply,  
And into every hole could pry,  
Had an Instinctive Art to Strole  
If that the she-beast were with foal.  
Were the State Midwives, and could strain,  
More than could Doctor Chamberlain;  
Though he could dip, and pray, and preach,  
And fiery-pated Squibb did teach,  
Until he grew as acquaint as he  
In their Occult Idolatry.  
an't may be now and then could bite  
The Buttock of a Prosolite.  
But what was this? a Game at Whist,  
Unto our Plowden-Canonist,  
Bewitched into a power, by some  
That never loved Kent nor Christendom,  
And hating all things Orthodox  
Did send Religion to the Stocks.  
In Church refused to take the pains,  
But in the streets would ask the Banes,  
And Ceremonies, longed allowed,  
Laid by, when they grew Pint— proud,  
That Master Justice was declared  
The Vicar to Dog and Bitch-yard,  
Which brought in Tithes as fast as Hops,  
Cerberus must be fed with Sops;  
And as the Ancients have defined,  
So these were duly paid, in kind.  
Without a Suit in the Exchequer,  
Complaining they to Noll were Debtor.  
They took a surer course and way,  
Peter knew how to make'em pay,  
And thus these holy men of Orders  
Did firk the fry of Sodom Borders:  
Though Tom want Tool, and Nell a Nose,  
Yet reconciled are in the Close.  
There let 'em stink, to sweeten (then)  
My lines, pray whistle to my Pen;  
To mind me of the former matter,  
Though not Incongruent to the latter.  
Then first to show you what they were  
That met, observe each Character,  
For, it is requisite we strew  
The way with flowers as they go:  
Bushero height the Twisters led,  
To whom he was both Cap, and Head,  
For Neatness he was held the best,  
Good reason, he could Trim the rest.  
And in his Calling was so rare,  
He fitted 'em unto a hair;  
And ere they for their Progress met  
Had given his Shirt the Somerset;  
(A Tumbling word, and used much  
By Men, Professors to be such:)  
In all things he was Cap a pe,  
Only his Hose was out at knee,  
And doublet-elbow wanted clout,  
But there, you know, love will break out,  
And therefore time is vainly spent  
To patch up what must needs be rend:  
If any dinged him on the lip,  
With that, quoth he, you may go snip:  
Of person he was sometime squat,  
With Ribbons Hat-ban-neding Hat,  
He had some judgement in the Gyttern,  
And Master was of Kitt and Cyttern;  
Which Cythere sung to first,  
When she her God-babe Cupid nursed.  
To follow him did Shanco roam  
From lady's service newly come;  
As finical for life as he,  
If that Comparisons may be!  
Was dressed with Muff and Pantaloon,  
And in Pocketto silver Spoon,  
Which slept secure, till Cream and Cake  
Did waken it, for Master's sake:  
He was of person pleasing Tall,  
As straight as Wand, but slimm withal;  
He walked as though he trod on Eggs;  
And Cat-sticks were supposed his Legs:  
His body burdened was with points,  
Which tied together all his Joints;  
His eyes and legs kept time together,  
They danced, & moved you'd wonder whither  
Such as ne'er understood the firk  
Took him for piece of dutch Clockwork;  
He was the least beholding to  
The flesh, of any man you know.  
Though he to it was mainly given,  
With him it never made Reckoning even;  
Perhaps it may by some be thought  
He had as good returned, as brought:  
But in that Sense there's Nicety,  
Which in this must avoided be,  
Only it is confessed he was  
His Lady's Limbeck; his own Ass.  
In breech of him, Butlero came,  
With Caquo, eager for the Game.  
Butlero did in Napkin neat  
Bringsalt, and bread, and Coquo meat:  
The one controller was o'th' Been,  
The other of the good Kitchen;  
The only overruling Pair  
That had to do below the stair:  
The one the merry Bottles brought,  
Tother with Limbs of Capons fraught.  
Which newly had (without denial)  
On Gridiron past the fiery Trial,  
The Parties equal-parted were,  
Each did of either's office share,  
So Lawyers never fall out for fee  
Among themselves, kame, kathee.  
Butlero may be thought of Kin  
To him that played o'th' Vyolin,  
And famous was for Clownery,  
Which City-wits call Drollery:  
He could Arthur of Bradley do,  
The Countryman, and Courtier too,  
And had an insight in the City,  
Inspired by those that then were witty;  
From whom the thrifty-Poet steals,  
To furnish Beardw— for his Meals.  
Ours played to what he could not sing.  
An Instrument without a string;  
But let me not his judgement wrong,  
The Tool did carry with't a Tongue;  
And by the Hebrews was allowed,  
As well as Cymbal, or the Crowd;  
And by Amphion played upon,  
If ever he did play on One:  
Now our Butlero in good Sooth  
Could play on two from hand to mouth:  
Coquo the Tongues could finger well,  
And had a Key for what I tell,  
Th' Invention was no easy Task,  
It took its birth from the Crand Mask:  
The Teacher had the happy fate  
To live in Street called Bishopsgate,  
And pity 'twas (he did so thrive)  
He had not left his like alive.  
Thus they to please their Lasses do  
Bring hither Meat, and Music too:  
These were the Heads, and now advances  
The Gathers, or th' appurtenances.  
The first with hand, or tongue could sway  
The pampered Jades of Asia,  
I mean not Tamberlaine's the Great,  
Nor he that fell out of his Seat,  
But Masters His, of better blood,  
That fed not upon others food.  
Sartoro brisk as body-louse  
Forsook his Stall, annexed to house,  
And though he was not worth a Dodkin,  
Wenches called him their standing-Bodkin.  
Trituratoro good at flail.  
As Orsin erst at Staff and tail,  
His skill in that did keep him safe,  
He Could distinguish Corn from Chasse.  
Then Molindario furled up Sail,  
The scornful Wind had turned tail,  
HE was held a Man of judgement strong,  
Or else his Neighbours did him wrong;  
He could into a Millstone see,  
As far ('tis said) as any He.  
Lanio and Tergoneer allied,  
As Calf to Cow, or Skin to Hide,  
Were next enrancked; Pistoro stout  
As ever Crap-tree threw about,  
Not far behind; his legs were small,  
But sure as Bandy at the Ball,  
The Ancient Poet Heywood draws  
From Ancestors of These his Laws  
Of Drama, to fill up each Scene  
With Soldiers good, to please Plebe'ne,  
And in those famous Stories told  
The Grecian Wars, and Beauchamps bold.  
At distance some, Thatchero came,  
Approved Martial to the Game,  
In one hand Dudgeon-knife he bore,  
The other Gantlet-Mittin wore,  
The Hyroglyphick of bad Music  
Did follow him, which made me Spuesick;  
Yet the belov'd malicious noise  
Attracted had whole scores of Boys  
Armed with Clubs and hideous sounds,  
As when they go to view the bounds  
Of Parish theirs, Or as I've known  
The Pan-cake Prentices come down  
On Fritter-day, Vice to abolish,  
And Reverend-Matron-Baud demolish.  
Then with Majestic pace came on  
Cartero, like Diego-Don,  
Whistling forth Rhetoric to the Beast, his,  
Which drew, of this discourse, the Thesis,  
In Wagon, Anglice, Dung-Cart,  
Lay Pole so good, cut out by Art,  
And ornamented with no less  
Than Ribbons given by Doll, and Bess,  
And others of the Fairy-crew,  
Of Colours red, white, black, and blue,  
Yellow, cinnamon, and green,  
Here, and there, Nosegay between,  
Likewise many a Wedding Garter,  
Tickling Lasses into laughter,  
For the Thing above the knee  
Seldome's seen, though felt it be:  
But no more of this, 'tis fit  
That hereafter come not yet,  
On either side this early Triumph  
Attended, Tony, Row-and Ry-Vmph-Sowgeldero Ratcatchero,  
Cum multiis aliis, saus fear ho!  
Th' Lasses, like Diana's Troopers,  
Came i'th' Rear with Main and Cruppers:  
Meg, and Kate, and Doll, and Joan,  
Buxom Lasses every one;  
With Peg, and Lett. and Luce, and Betty,  
For her face and foot called pretty;  
Moll, and Shall, and Non, and Frank,  
Wenches free, and fat i'th' flank:  
On Agnes Eve they'd strictly fast,  
And dream of those had kissed 'em last;  
Or St. Quintin's watch all Night,  
With Smock hung up, for Lover's sight:  
Some of the Laundry were (no flashing)  
That would not give their heads for washing;  
Others o'th' Chamber, and the Dairy,  
All kept their Arms free from the Fairy:  
Thus they pass through Marketplace,  
And to Town-green hie apace,  
Highly famed for Hooktide Games,  
Yclept Kingston super Thames,  
Where Sir Hudibras, invited  
To dinner was, but newly lighted:  
Quoth he to self, I had before  
A Stomach good, this stirs it more;  
Had I best charge 'em before dinner?  
No, quoth he, as I'm a Sinner:  
Let 'em wait till I do come,  
Charity begins at home:  
Serve self first, the Commonweal  
May stay till I have made my Meal.  
And so he enters House, while Rout  
To set up Maypole went about.  
The Lasses too put helping hand  
To make the merry business stand.  
There let 'em rest a while, and now  
To Hudibras the great kill-Cow,  
Who having on the Creature fed,  
And drank for more than he had bled,  
He in a fury flung from Table,  
And bid his Man fetch Steed from Stable:  
Some business of the State, quoth he,  
Doth retrograde to Manners me:  
However Friend, and Cousin Narsey,  
For entertainment God-a-mercy-  
But ere I go, a word or two  
With you Bro. Knight, and eke with you;  
For pairs of Sirs, there were in sight,  
That had but little maw to fight;  
Of Stomaches good, and had been able  
To serve King Arthur at his Table.  
One did Command the Cheshire Forces,  
And had a face as Round as Horses;  
His teeth were grown the same length,  
And wanted nothing but in strength  
To pass for one, Beasts know not theirs,  
And he was robbed of his by fears;  
His Name did Rumble like to Thun-Der  
Der Guilielmo Knight Sir B— ●ton.  
The other was of last Edition,  
A Justice too upon Petition:  
He pretty well could understand  
The Penial Laws at second hand,  
For he a Clerk had that might pass  
For an Intelligible As,  
After Sir Hud. discovered had  
By Whispers Consequences bad,  
To Brother Knights; they straight Array  
Themselves, and Horses, and away:  
Each trusty Twible ties to side,  
Fury Conductor was and Guide.  
They Course on with might and main.  
Till they came in sight of Train,  
Who had newly fixed their Pole,  
Which vexed 'em to their very soul,  
Round about it some were frisking,  
Others on the Grass as brisking;  
Most in Mirth, set hand to labour,  
Tongues, and Gridiron, Trump, and Tabor,  
Cytern, with a Voice as lewd,  
Rhimes too were but lately stewed  
In Brainpan, and set to Tune  
The Cuckoo rants in May and June,  
For Lover's sake: while thus they sport,  
Sir Hudibras does call a Court  
Consisting of three Knights, three Squires,  
That long before had left their Sirs,  
To seek Adventures, and attended  
The Sequel now, which is not ended.  
Quoth Hudibras, what's best to do?  
Six heads is better far than two.  
The Romans did more glory gain,  
By living Citizens, then slain,  
And brave Cyneus with a word  
Did Conquer more than Perhus Sword.  
Shall we with smooth Caresses go  
And soften flinty hearted foe?  
Or if then bow, he'd rather break,  
Defy 'em, and not poorly sneak?  
But try what fortune will allow  
To edge of Sword, and potent blow;  
For Points in fights Knight-Errantry  
Were still rebated, that you'll see  
In Writs of yore; let rumours cease  
Dissension breeds, I'm of the Peace  
Quoth Justice then, and of the Town,  
Else I'd not value a cracked Crown  
More than pins head; I think it meet  
With wisdom's lore the crew to greet;  
The safer weapon of the two  
And will not make so much ado.  
Then quoth Sir Hudibras I'll spare  
Your brains the labour to ensnare  
Their wits and wills, quoth then Sir Guill—  
Were my Troop here I'd not stand still,  
Courage quoth Hudibras, and now  
Wit show thyself, or weapon, thou;  
Then Cicero my tongue adapt  
Or strengthen arm thou mighty Capt—  
So on they jog, and with an eye  
Well read in modern Policy  
The numerous crew they do behold  
With patience strong and courage bold.  
And soon Sir Hud. doth them accost  
But all in vain, his labours lost,  
He moves to them with sober speech,  
And strokes his beard while they turn breech;  
Quoth he, you Males, for to the she's,  
I'll offer nothing shall displease,  
How durst you set up (Sans advice)  
A Maypole of ungodly size  
For height it may amaze the people,  
And straighter is then Grantham Steeple;  
Which Statesmen do conclude upon  
Might firk the whore of Babylon;  
Have you to scour a scurvy Cliff  
Brought Giant's Tool from Teneriffe  
Ossa or Pelion? No, quoth Tergo,  
'Tis for the Sisters, Ruth and Pergo,  
And such as follow Conventicle,  
No Brother has a Tool so much;  
Monstra morendum quoth Sir Hud—  
What are you men of flesh, or Wood?  
Will you in spite of Ordinance,  
A whorish Stallion thus advance?  
Where are you Scences, pray look to't;  
Have we not struck at Branch and Root?  
And ta'en the Smock from off the Whore,  
Yet will you aggravate us more?  
Quoth Lanio, hence thou Weasel, Rat,  
That scarce dar'st look in face a Cat;  
Who sent for thee? what mak'st thou here?  
And these thy Chitterlings so near?  
Whence comest thou, from what nasty Sink  
Didst thou creep forth, to prate and stink?  
Depart in peace, or by this Truncheon,  
Thy Beastly back I'll raise a Bunch on,  
Bigger than that thou bearest, never grudge it,  
'T shall taken be for Tinker's Budget,  
Can Nature Monsters such afford,  
That will not hear from Man a word?  
Quoth Hudibras, more deaf than Adder  
To common Sense, to make me madder?  
And in the face of Justice too!  
Sword keep to me, as I'll to you.  
Quoth then Sir Jus. my Brothers both,  
To aggravate the Case I'm loath,  
Because these all my Neighbours are,  
And you my worthy friends, and dear;  
An even hand I mean to carry,  
In weighty matters must be wary.  
He spit, and then he spoke quoth he,  
My Friends, as many as there be,  
I hope it is no bad advice,  
To bid all be merry and wise;  
I need no farther learning borrow,  
Then saucy mirth will bring on sorrow:  
And though for number we seem fools,  
'Tis dangerous meddling with edge tools:  
And here are mighty Men and strong,  
Whose Acts are in the Army sung.  
Root up your Pole, remove it hence,  
And let your own homes be your fence.  
For I'm empowered by Commission,  
To force you from this lewd Condition.  
Quoth Shanco (quaintly) Mr. Justice,  
Upon our Strength, not you, our Trust is,  
With Wit, or Weapon, choose you whether,  
Or one, or both, or altogether;  
We are resolved, and so have at ye,  
if words won't do't, by Jove we'll pat ye.  
I am the Lasses Champion, then  
Be safe, and get you back again.  
Well said Cousin Shanco, quoth Tonsore,  
I'll second thee upon that score.  
Awake, quoth Hudibras, thou Fox:  
Hold, quoth Sir Guill. I hate these Knocks:  
The People will be mollified  
If that the Lord be on our side.  
Scarce had he spoke, ere Stratagem  
(By Shanco laid) surrounded them,  
But by stout Molindario led,  
Whose very looks did speak'em dead.  
What mean you then, quoth Hudibras?  
Fie on't, this 'tis to he an Ass,  
And leave my instruments of danger  
At six and seven, Rack and Manger:  
But Tom, (speaking to doughty Squire)  
This is thy fault, or I'm a liar.  
Now Valour must be brought on knees  
To Rascal Rout, and their Pedees'.  
Down with that Maggot quoth the Boys:  
Children to School, and leave your noise.  
Quoth Justice good, how comes it thus  
you him us in, mayn't we untruss?  
My little body can't contain,  
Quoth Hudibras, my Spirit main,  
I'll run the hazard: knock him down  
Cries one, as soon as said 'tis done.  
Sir Guill▪ did show his Teeth, but durst  
Not bite, though he had Mastiffs nursed.  
The ground was burdened with the Groans  
Of Knights, and Squires, these piteous ones;  
And how to rid 'em thence was thought,  
Coltstaffes with quick dispatch were brought,  
On which they hoisted were, and so  
Conveyed to Town, who durst say no?  
where they were met with mocks & laughter,  
Their Horses, as rank Beasts, sent after.   

The second Canto.  
Argument.  
The Knights retired their Case Condole,  
Big with Revenge as Mare with Fole,  
Consult the means, but can't agree,  
Part, and put up th' Indignity.  
Knights two, to wit Sir Hudibras,  
And Guill. leave Town and further pass,  
Their Squires attend; Encounters meet  
In Journeys-Road, Yclept street.  
Where on the next day kept was Fair,  
Then doth ensue what happened there.  
SIR Hudibras (though fortune had  
With wry-mouth flouted him) grew mad,  
And nothing else would serve his turn  
To quench the Rage in him did burn,  
But a full Goblet of French Wine  
Was dulcified with Sugar fine;  
Which having guzzelled down Gullet,  
He thought no speech, and then he spit,  
The clear preserver of his wit,  
For that, being Salt did season it.  
Quoth he, I was a thirst indeed,  
Now Brothers, pray do you proceed:  
I'm sure you shared in blows and beating,  
A Julip's good after a heating,  
He wipes, and then he fulminates,  
Words that through Ear late penetrates,  
Shall we, quoth he, sit down with loss,  
And faintly go by weeping Cross?  
Shall we with Patience take their frumps,  
And Heads revengeless go for bumps?  
Given by the hand of reaking Foe,  
What ere you think, I think not so,  
Shall Triumph revel in their smiles,  
Our Courage pinioned all the while?  
Shall we besotted be with beating,  
And bury Honour by retreating?  
Honour that's not so cheaply bought  
As Eggs that to your Markets brought.  
But is the purchase of the daring,  
That will not of their blood be sparing  
Rally for shame then, let 'em know,  
We scorn to flinch for knock or two.  
And now (good Omen) I have got  
My Pistols, that I then had not,  
Which careless Squire did leave behind,  
I would he had been beaten blind.  
Quoth Justice, you want Charity,  
Bro. Knight, Sir Hud. assuredly,  
For true it is (or else blame me)  
When Men are blind they cannot see.  
Quoth Hudibras, is there no way  
To put a period to this day  
By Conquest ours? where art thou Pate?  
Or thus— or thus— no, now I have't:  
To th' Parliament with speed I'll send,  
Where I have got a special Friend.  
Hold, quoth Sir Guill. Bro. Hudibras,  
I have it here, and it shall pass;  
Bring Ink and Paper, I'll dispatch  
Letters to Nantwich, where my Match-  
Less Troop doth quarter; come they hither▪  
They'd tear these Rogues ears, though of leather▪  
Quoth Hudibras, 'tis trick of Clown,  
To take one up before he's down;  
Yours is the work of half a year,  
And my design does lie but here  
Astones throw off, but twenty mile,  
And may be done while one does pile  
A load of Wood I think not so,  
Quoth Justice then, though much I know.  
Yes upon Motion of my Friend,  
Quoth Hudibras, I know they'll send,  
Either a Company, or Troop,  
Shall make these stubborn Rascals stoop,  
But good Sir Bro. quoth Justice, Sir,  
What will their coming here infer?  
'Tis true, that after Beef comes Mustered,  
When Belly's full, then Bring in Costard.  
In plain, the Proverb's good I swear,  
They'll come a day after the fair;  
Or as (of yore) the learned Clerk it,  
Will come at th' end of a bad Market;  
At end of Feast I cannot say;  
But after fray I justly may.  
Then (under favour) Brother Knights,  
Your Reasons are not in the rights;  
You from Nantwich do draw design,  
And you fetch yours beyond the Line,  
For here, or there, 'tis called all one,  
The line of Communication.  
And the wise Parliament thought fit.  
We should be Neighbours to their Wit.  
Sir Guill. I cannot reach your sense,  
Nantwich is many miles from hence,  
And yours I'm sure doth lie as far  
As Kingston is from Westminster,  
You say they'll come, I ask you when?  
You say to Morrow, And what then?  
I do Respond, before they come  
The foe is gone, each Wight's at home,  
So that your Council is no more,  
" Than steed being stolen, shut Stable-dore.  
The Red-coats come, and simply see  
A goodly Field, and long Pole-tree:  
Perhaps they'll reek revenge on Wood,  
But what will that do our Heads good?  
That ache with blows, and our bones more,  
Will that be salve for every Sore?  
Did Paracelsus ever make  
Plasters of chips for Valour's sake?  
Or will (by sympathy) the blows  
And hacks on Pole be felt by Foes?  
You may as well say, strike one Brother  
Here, and at York it shalllite on the other.  
I need not further wrack my Brains,  
(an't may be little thank for pains)  
To bring Comparisons, save this  
Which was said of Diogenes,  
When he was told that one spoke ill  
Of him behind his back, It will,  
Quoth he, not hurt me if he do,  
When I'm not present beat me too.  
So to as little purpose were  
These men thought on, should combat air,  
And like the King of France his Men,  
March up the Hill, and down again.  
More I could say, but let it rest,  
The Birds at night will fly to Nest:  
What that infers yourselves may judge,  
I have too long been Reasons Drudge.  
Quoth Hudibras, must we pass by  
So grand ad open Injury?  
Rendered the scorn and sport of Clown;  
And Table-talk for all the Town?  
We that have seen Death in the Field,  
And made the surly Fellow yield;  
We that through dangers mouth have met  
The Foe, and never the worse sored yet,  
I mean the common Enemy,  
The bold and daring Gavalry.  
We can't deny but the base Clubs  
Of this rude Rout have given us Rubs,  
Which will remain a day or two  
On sides, in Colours black and blue;  
And 'gainst our wills are forced to wear 'em,  
Those that did give 'em, Old Nick tear 'em.  
Can you, Sir Jus. so tamely take  
This Cudgel-Combat, and not make  
The very Basis of the Town  
To tremble at your awful frown?  
Is Justice lame as well as blind,  
Crippled in power as well at Mind▪  
Can you send Beggar to the Stocks,  
And have no punishment for knocks?  
Knocks in a most Malign sense,  
That will admit of no Pretence?  
Were you Commissionated Harry,  
Or are you Supernumerary,  
To wit, one that may be employed  
When others are with service cloyed?  
If you the thing itself assume,  
On your own strength you may presume,  
And by attractive virtue draw  
Obedience to you, Brat o'th' Law:  
Pitchforks and Prongs will soon appear,  
When that Sir Justice is in fear.  
Oblige your Interest, Neighbours raise  
My honour, then we'll bear the Bays:  
And that you may not want a Man  
Resolved, know I'll head the Van,  
You and Sir Guill. bring up the Rear,  
I hope y'are not ill placed there.  
Sir Hud. and Bro. I must confess,  
Not willingly I'd Aqui-ess,  
Quoth Justice, Sir, but as I perch  
At Reason, and her Entrails search,  
I know there's no good to be done,  
Either with Father, or with Son:  
The Case is altered now, quoth Ployden,  
Which is asserted by each Hayden:  
When danger did attend our Gates  
We did not fear to venture Pates,  
But now we have no Enemy,  
Unless among ourselves they be,  
I pray, who do they then Impeach,  
If you into the sense will reach?  
They plead to have their Sports restored,  
For which they had the Senate's word,  
And trusted to't as much, Jack saith,  
As Tom did to the Public Faith.  
Now they instead of being protected  
In their old Pastimes, are detected,  
Disturbed, molested put in fear,  
With is a Session's matter, hear  
Me Brother Knights, 'tis contra pacem,  
Terrtorem too, if you will trace 'em,  
To wit, the Cynics of the Law,  
Who in this Case will find a flaw  
For Palm of fist, without good Friends,  
Or money, which makes all amends.  
But I digress; of this no more,  
To what I should have said before  
My purpose is; the promise, Root  
To all their hopes laid under foot;  
By whom? who did it violate?  
One that's a Servant to the State,  
Quoth pro and con; that's Justice I  
My Conscience speak it, which won't lie;  
And so for service yours, unsought,  
I'm into a Primunire brought.  
Excuse me Brother Knights, God knows  
I'm well contented with my blows,  
If you be so, for said my Sire,  
The burnt Child ever dreads the fire,  
And I was but an Ass, some hint;  
At first to have a finger in't.  
Send Mittimus, then quoth Sir Guill.  
As I would do, had I my will.  
A Mittimus, quoth Justice then,  
For what, wherefore, for whom, and when?  
Exponere. And who shall serve it?  
Let such have beating that deserve it.  
The Constable, nor Tything-man  
Will do't, if they avoid it can:  
Besides, did Justice ere obtrude  
A Mittimus on Multitude  
And your own Eyes have seen that I,  
Who am above it they defy;  
For all conclude, (or else they're Fools)  
The Workman's better than his, tools.  
In brief, (for Brevity the best  
To such will not here out the rest)  
I'm confident, and dare aver,  
Not one man on our side will stir.  
The remedy we have is this,  
Bought Wit is best; Nor is it miss  
Applied here, which bids be wary  
Of such who are Ubiquitary.  
Quoth Hudibras, why Brother Jus.  
I wonder you should Cackel thus:  
Has the Hen trod you? Is your Comb  
Cut, and no Cock at dunghil-home?  
Prevaricate, turn Cat in Pan,  
Be less than Beast, yet seem a Man.  
Do you wear Beard, and want a Face  
To add a Credit to your Place?  
To ' much, the Proverb now should hit  
In you, to have more hair than wit:  
The Romans- shaved themselves so clean,  
The face of Justice might be seen;  
But you obscure it with a Grove,  
Where Maggots Nest in Neighbour-love:  
Or like the Creeping Syrian King,  
When he with Beasts went a Banqueting.  
What strange Coherence doth bewitch  
Your Worship's Nose to Ploughman's breech?  
I do request your learned Noddle,  
Tell me what's that in Pan you coddle;  
For Brains you have not (I suppose)  
Unless they drop out of your Nose.  
Are you a Magistrate pierce,  
Or insufficientem te!  
To which o'th' Nouns do you incline?  
Your Gender sure's not Masculine:  
Rather the Doubtful, like long Megs,  
And scarce can stand on your own legs:  
The Sword on Shoulder was mislaid,  
When kneel down Gent. rise Knight was said:  
And he that made thee Justice-dasher  
Did spoil (Sir Reverence) a good Thrasher.  
Nay, quoth Sir Guill. I promise you,  
Bro. Hud. something he said was true,  
And now for Council well may pass,  
Though one would take him for an Ass,  
Not to run farther into th' Briers,  
Is all that his advice requires:  
And truly, unless we were stronger,  
I think't not safe to stay here longer.  
Quoth then Sir Justice, 'tis all one  
To me, to stay, or to be gone;  
But I think packing is the best,  
For beating this, is but Earnest  
To after Payments that will follow,  
When as the Rout triumphs; and hollow,  
If you at good, advice will rave,  
Abuse your Friends when none, you have;  
Take Pepper in Nostrello when  
You want a Box to put it in  
I care not a Fleas-biting for  
All your great din, pother, and stir;  
And as a wiser than you all  
Did speak in house beyond the Hall,  
If without cause you angry be,  
Be pleased without a mends for me:  
And since all words are held but wind,  
Your Girdles buckle turned behind:  
I'll not be bug beard at the word  
Of Colonel Crump, or wise Sir Turd,  
l've seen a Knight ere I saw you;  
Quoth Hudibras, scarce one so true;  
Mine's current and of older stamp  
Than thine that is but lately vampt;  
Mine will be lasting, thine decay,  
The more's your shame, as I may say.  
Quoth Justice then, for one may see  
You're Cobbler but in Heraldry;  
And if I don't mistake my Note,  
You basely have abased your Coat;  
For he can be no Child of Honour,  
That shall for favours spurn at th' Donor.  
As for my part (though mine were latter)  
I shall stick still to the first matter,  
I will obedient be to Powers  
That are above me, not to yours;  
And in my Neighbour's love will die,  
I value not wherefore, nor why.  
Quoth Hudibras, to horse, a Curse  
Upon this Town, Malignants' Nurse,  
And doth derive part of its name  
From whom (at first) Tyranny came.  
May darkness seize upon your dwellings,  
That have eclipsed my high Excellings;  
May all your Wives be leapt by Clown,  
And your fine Bread be turned to Brown;  
May all your cattle die o'th' Rot,  
And not a piece be had for Pot,  
Or Spit; and may your Children mutter,  
When Kine want Milk, and they want Butter.  
Quoth Justice then, thou are no Christian,  
A Turk or Jew, or Tribe Philistian:  
Get to thy Crew, from hence for shame,  
Lest on thy back light all the blame,  
So part they did with Anger eager  
As frowns on Brows, and Visage meager:  
The Squires were called from Tipling-Cell,  
Not dreaming of what had befell;  
Armed with Liquor Male they stride  
Their sturdy Steeds, and on they ride;  
Leaving Sir Justice out of Peace,  
Fretting, and melting in's own grease;  
And unto Town, famous for Hogs,  
Butchers, and their like, Mastiff-dogs;  
And for a Witch that once lived there,  
Not unlike Falstaff in Shakespeare;  
But more for fight, when Londoneers  
In Thames were dipped o'er head and ears,  
And some Limbless in Carts were sent,  
As Presents unto Parliament,  
Which made a foul House, and no doubt  
Was ill Resented when smelled out;  
Thither they haste, but in their way,  
Latet in anguis; some rubs lay.  
At distance mile from Town there stood  
An Amphitheatre of Wood,  
Backed pretty strong, a Form or Bench,  
Where sat Sir Capon and his Wench;  
A Plank for Stage some five yards high,  
(With Curtain most conveniently.)  
On which Sir Hud- whose eyes were walking  
Perceived a fellow gape, or talking,  
Sometimes expanding arms, then clutch  
His fists, or point to thumb, as much,  
His head was in perpetual motion,  
His eyes the same, to put off lotion,  
And tongue he had more swift than Jack,  
Which always ran knick knack, knick knack  
For through his teeth such jangling went,  
As one would think his jaws were wrent:  
Spectators many stood before,  
To see the Knacks he had in store,  
With Algate-ouths, Saracens Ear,  
They gape to taste, as mad to hear.  
On either side of Theatre  
Were placed two Tubs of sturdy Beer,  
And Wenches that for Novelties,  
Sold Gingerbread, and Pudding-pies,  
Which fodder was unto the cattle,  
As when Train-band do enter battle:  
This made the Knights and Squires to pause  
A while, and sift into the cause:  
What can this mean, quoth Hudibras  
To Knight Sir Guill. must we not pass?  
Does Courage so adapt my blade,  
That Multitudes do Ambuscade?  
Day thou art fatal, yet bright Honour  
Shall say I still will wait upon her;  
Be bold, troop up, defy the Foe;  
Hold, quoth Sir Guill. I say not so;  
Observe you not yon man of Zeal,  
A blessed Type o'th' Common-weal,  
With held up hands, and devout eyes,  
He doubtless is at Exercise,  
His Faculties in labour are,  
To feed the Soul even through the Ear,  
A work of Grace he is a doing,  
Then soberly let us be going,  
Curb in the Reins of wicked Horse,  
And pace like men that have remorse,  
For ah, alack no blows control  
As words, that cudgel do the Soul,  
For they, like to Achilles Spear,  
Both wound and heal, or I'm not here.  
So on they amble to the place,  
Where Monsieur spoke with a boon grace▪  
Begar we kill you all, an den  
Presan make you alive again;  
Widis me do all de gran Cure,  
De Pock, de Scab, de Calenture;  
Me make de Man strong, pour de wench.  
(Then riseth Capon from the Bench)  
Look you me now, do you no see  
Dead yesterday, now live day be,  
Four boon, they leap, they dance, they sing,  
May foy, an do de toder thing:  
Begar good Medicine do all dis.  
Capon makes legs, and wench doth kiss,  
Take hands, and throw their legs about,  
Then Hudibras disturbs the Rout:  
Quoth he, what do you come to see,  
A Pander show his Harlotry?  
Then forth of Holster doth he take  
His fatal Engine, to awake,  
His long slept anger; mongst 'em then  
(With Courage would serve twenty Men)  
He rusheth, makes the Rabble fly;  
Monsieur doth quarter, quarter cry;  
And Capon (but for wenches Teathers)  
Had been hung up in his own Feathers:  
The Sutler's lay as they were dead,  
To see their Drink so murdered;  
Hot Custard, piping-Pudding-pie,  
On God's cold Earth at distance lie;  
The Knights and Ladies sundered are,  
In Gingerbread united were:  
But th' Squires did in Pocket to put  
Some puding-pies, as good for Gut.  
The Rout dispersed, quoth Hudibras,  
Brother Sir Guilford, and Squires, the face  
Of Fortune now is wheeled about,  
She doth assist the bold and stout:  
I knew ere evening did close in  
We should be Conquerors, and win;  
Perseverance doth make the Man  
Inclined to War a Champion;  
Diffidence and distrust confound,  
And bury Honour under ground:  
To take one wound, and fear another,  
Makes Man but Valour's bastard-brother;  
In all brave fights with courage born,  
Evening's prove better than the Morn:  
In triumph Squires lead on to Town,  
We have recovered our Renown.   

The Third Canto.  
Argument.  
The Victors all their Prisoners carry  
Through Town to Castle, and there tarry,  
Which Pilgrims used in times of yore  
To call an Inn, and showed wherefore;  
There they in Conucel sit, and do  
Examine Quack, Capono too,  
Nor doth the Wench escape their reach,  
They in her Coat do find a breach.  
But in the Close (without control)  
The Prisoners pass on their Paroul.  
Then new Adventures they do seek,  
'Mongst Butchers rude, and Puppets meek.  
UNhappy is the Wight that has  
To do with Mighty Hudibras,  
Whose Courage no rebating knows,  
For he drives on, and calls for blows,  
And like the daring Sithian Shepherd,  
Keeps sword from rust, till all are peppered,  
Or in the Sanguine Liquor stewed  
Issuing from Pagan Multitude,  
Though Fortune on his side may frown  
At first, at last her Pride comes down,  
Which he takes up, and swells bis Sails,  
With glorious Nihils, empty Gales:  
So have I known some Courtiers want  
Bread, more than ever did Peasant,  
Upon the turning of the wheel,  
Preferment made their Reason reel,  
And slight those from whom helps they had;  
Success, and Money make Men mad;  
Money that Loyalty out-braves,  
Keeps back the honest, brings in Knaves,  
Puts fellows Principled in Treason  
In power and trust 'gainst sense and reason▪  
Replies to all things, Rhimes to Honey,  
Ask what's a Clock, 'tis answered Money.  
Go to them but to speak about,  
Some business, straight the hand's held out,  
Which signifies you must prepare,  
Before your matter meet their Ear;  
Like half-starved wretches (come to meat)  
Do covet more than they can eat:  
Or as the Proverb bids you mark,  
The Priest forgets he ere was Clerk,  
So Hudibras, whose great Prowess  
Aims at the more, forgets the less,  
Troops on with all his Captived train  
In state, much like to Tamburlaine,  
For he, his Conquest to complete,  
Chains Monsieur Quack like Bagazet,  
And at Horse tail he doth attend,  
Like one made for no other end;  
With head on side of neck, he goes,  
His Vessels leaking, Eyes and Nose,  
His Antic Motions are forgot,  
He moves as though he moved not;  
Nor can you blame him thus to falter,  
No Dog but would abonden halter,  
And he well knew there was no trick  
In reading, or practice Chemic,  
After a hanging to cure Gullet,  
And set it right to swallow Pallet:  
Capono and his Damsel brought  
Up Rear, with sorrow fully fraught,  
His countenance betrayed him loath  
To be disht up amidst white Broth,  
And doubted much to have his Book,  
He knew he had a hanging look.  
The Damsel looked like one near dead,  
But comforted by Gingerbread,  
And now and then with Pudding-pie,  
Tendered by Squires (some Reason why).  
For as Tailors preserve their Cabbage,  
So Squires take care of Bag and Baggage.  
Vesper appeared, and Sol was down,  
When Hudibras did enter Town:  
Quoth he, Bro. Guill. observe the Sun,  
Envying the Glories we have won,  
Is gone to bed, and in mere spite  
Shadows our Trophies with the Night;  
But ere he has ta'en Nap or two  
we'll rouse him with Achievements new,  
Bleeding like Herrings in their Gills,  
And fresh too, or we'll want our wills:  
So over Lake, Anglice Kennel  
(Which had a stronger scent than Fennel)  
They unto Gate (beyond it) past,  
Famous (when shut) for being fast.  
Quoth Knight to Squires, go one of you,  
No matter which, you are but two,  
And ask who keeps this Garrison,  
I mean the house, but 'tis all one.  
Your words, quoth Squire, shall be obeyed  
Great Hudibras, (just so he said)  
Before the turning of a Taster  
Or bate me of an Egg at Easter.  
Whoop, quoth the Squire, where are you ho?  
A Language he was versed into,  
For he had travelled many a mile,  
And was not now to seek his stile.  
At last Ostlero did appear,  
Whose Nose did scent the Beasts were near:  
Quoth he, why bring you not down lights  
For Squires so good, and eke for Knights?  
Quoth Squire, first take in care our Horses,  
And then you may Rally your forces.  
With hand as useful as Quacks Syrups,  
Ostlero straight takes hold on Stirrups,  
And leads the Palfreys to the Stable,  
Where he did do what he was able  
To beasts, for he and they were Kin,  
However they were now drawn in.  
Mean while was Chamberlano called;  
He came, and asked for what they bawled,  
For he was ready for all squabbles,  
Having been beat (it seems) at Tables.  
Quoth Hudibras, where wert thou bred?  
Wilt thou not stand us now in stead?  
Wearied with doing mighty things,  
Spent the whole day in Bicker,  
These are the Guordeons of our toil,  
Our purchase and our lawful spoil.  
Quoth then Sir Guill. oh fie, good Brother,  
Let us like Christians love each other.  
But every like is not the same,  
Quoth Hudibras you are to blame,  
You will be twittering like the Drill,  
Yet insignificant be still.  
Quoth he, these are meet Infidels.  
Begar you lie (quoth Monsieur) else,  
Softly to self as who should say,  
He would speak more were he away.  
Quoth Hudibras, show up to room,  
For they shall soon receive their Doom.  
Quoth Chamberlano, after banging  
I think them hardly worth the banging;  
Yet I presume they may be tried well,  
And sent to place yclept Bridewell.  
Thou hitt'st it right, quoth Hudibras,  
And so they unto Chamber pass,  
The fairest in the place, you may  
Believe whatever others say;  
In length it was full fourteen Yards,  
In breadth sme twelve, measure, Richaurds;  
The Floor, for Comers, strewed with Rushes;  
Chimney set out with Boughs and Bushes;  
The Walls, in stead of Tapestry,  
Were hung about with History,  
As those of the Prodigal Son,  
And Judgement just of Solemon,  
In Capitals most fairly writ,  
To take the Eye, and 〈…〉  
Upon the Ceiling one might see  
Clouds of men's names in Candlery,  
Who had been Patrons to the place,  
And penny spent in putting Case;  
In Window laid was Lavendare,  
Of which the Cushions smelled most rare,  
With pots of Flowers very pleasing  
To put a Man into a sneezing:  
In midst of Room a Table stood,  
Which certainly was made of Wood;  
The Superfices of it was  
A Carpet, which for green may pass  
T'avoid disputes, but to say true,  
It might as well be ta'en for blue,  
Or any colour else, or none  
At all, howe'er 't shall pass for one,  
Richly stripped o'er with dregs of Ale,  
Which from o'er charged Cups seldom fail,  
And here and there you might descry  
A breach made by the Enemy,  
Who from Mundungoes took its name,  
And wastes itself in smoke and flame,  
Whose ashes fatal are to Cloth,  
Linen, or Woollen, all, or both:  
On each side Table placed were  
Stools jointed, and at end a Chair,  
Which was for Worshipful, so please,  
But all was for the Buttocks ease:  
And lights in Sticks some place did fill there,  
Some say were Tin, but bright as Silver:  
At end of Room a Bed did stand,  
Whose Posts were carved by cunning hand,  
Faces good store, but ne'er a Nose,  
And Legs too, without Feet or Toes,  
Which either came by some disaster,  
Or else he was not his Art's Master;  
And yet perhaps he did express  
The Art he had in ugliness;  
For to do things exactly ill  
Must needs show (though not judgement) skill:  
About the Taster of the Bed,  
And so on that they call the Head,  
Were painted Bats (like Cherubs) flying,  
To comfort Souls when they are dying.  
But rouse my Muse, y'ave been too long  
Upon the Bed, pursue your Song;  
For Clio (as some Author's ken)  
Doth sing the worthy Deeds of Men,  
So all this while it may be said,  
We have been singing Knights to bed:  
Therefore no harm to Ears that have  
No mind to hear, nor those that crave.  
And now we come unto the Point,  
By this time Squires had trucked for Joint  
Of Mutton, or some whole some food,  
Which they knew was for body good,  
And brought up word unto the Knights,  
Who bid withdraw awhile you Wights,  
Pointing to Prisoners who stood gaping,  
As Damsel did, who longed for Japing,  
A word the Gipsies much affect,  
And held by These in like respect;  
For they have travelled North and South,  
With it, and Tenant is to mouth,  
Which though they throw out now, and then,  
They entertain with joy again;  
But ere the Creature was brought up;  
Or that the Knights had ta'en a sup,  
On these main words, put case, and whether,  
The Knights condogged, knocked Jowls together,  
At last for private Reasons they  
Did think it fit the Wights should stay;  
For held it was a point of State,  
That Prisoners should on Table wait.  
After a hem, Sir Hudibras  
Bespoke and said, alas, alas!  
Begar, quoth Monsieur, here be none,  
Me scorn your vards, me vill be gone.  
There's no such haste, than quoth Sir Guill.  
Our Enmity is not so ill  
To have you lose part of the Supper,  
And therefore stay: Marty come up here;  
Quoth Hudibras, must you be treated,  
Whom we but lately have defeated?  
Begar (quoth Quack) vid all mine heart  
Me take de Supper in good part;  
Me be no angry vid dat;  
Dough me be mad at me know vat.  
Then Chamberlano Cloth did lay,  
Which had not seen Sun many a day,  
And Salt sat down with little loss,  
Its Cell was part of Charing-Cross.  
In equipage most formidable  
All things were fitted for the Table.  
Then Hudibras bid all be bare,  
Lend Ear to Grace (but none was there)  
His eyes and hands did make dumb shows,  
His tongue (too) and his very nose;  
But this fume did not last him long,  
His stomach to the Meat was strong:  
Quoth he, give Trenchers to the Wretches,  
Let them attend while Colon stretches.  
Ma foy, me understand no does,  
Quoth Quack, trencher in handa, pis—  
Bougra Shack-dog, me serving Man!  
Dat in de Pock have de Largent!  
Oh have you so, youth Hudibras?  
We'll see anon if it will pass:  
Sat down, and let your servants eat  
With Squires so good, we'll leave 'em meat.  
Pour boon begar, 'tis all a mode,  
Quoth Quack, pour men travel the Rode.  
So they fall to't with teeth and knives,  
And throw about 'em for their lives.  
They little leisure had to prate,  
And so avoided all debate:  
To wit, had stomaches like to horse,  
And had not time to find discourse;  
They did so pay shoulder a Mutton,  
That morsel scarce was left there upon  
For Squires and Charge, whose looks so meager  
Declared that they to eat Were eager.  
Quoth Hudibras, Squires take away,  
Victual your Camps, but do not stay  
Long by 't; and hear me, send up Pease,  
They will our appetites appease:  
Dispatch, for business great (you know)  
Effect we must ere sleep we do.  
So down go Squires, and into Room  
Where Hogo did from Stable come:  
They put Capono and his Wench  
Where neither stool was, nor yet bench,  
But forms a couple by good hap,  
And table too, (to take a snap)  
Some four foot high, and two yards long,  
With legs of wood supported strong:  
And therefore Authors say the word  
Implies (in very truth) a board.  
There used Tapstero and Ostiero  
To play at Put for Cans of Beer, ho.  
On board or table was set down  
The burdened Dish with meatless bone;  
And strait out of the Kitchen popped  
A wench that had in dripping sopped:  
'Tis true, her hands were not so white  
As theirs that lie in gloves all night:  
No matter though some speak 'em foul,  
She was a good conditioned Soul,  
And merely in good will did bring  
A clout, she'd newly been wrinsing.  
After it served had dish and pot,  
And came from dresser reaking hot,  
Oh fie (quoth she) are you without  
A cloth? then down she dropped her clout,  
And spreaded it to best advantage,  
(In cloth sometimes there may be scantage)  
And so they fell to picking bone,  
Which was snatched at by every one,  
With many a Wink- contrived slip,  
And happy he could get a snip  
Only for Damsel carved was Knuckle,  
And she as stoutly with't did buckle;  
Quoth Squires, are there no Peason left  
For us, who are with hunger cleft?  
Hunger you know is very keen,  
Or (as some have it) sharp, which even  
Will break stone walls through; then what hath  
Man to defend him, who's but lath?  
Quoth Squire, come bring us (and then drinks)  
Onions and Cheese to fill up chinks;  
Which they chop down with far more ease  
Than Dogs (in Summer) snap up Fleas.  
I might say something of the becks,  
The winking, and their counter-checks,  
Simprings, and treading on the toes,  
Excuses (too) to pluck a Rose,  
Which (for Squire's sake) distressed Dam.  
Sel used to make, when loose i'th' Ham;  
But I conceive they will advance  
Matter enough for some Romance;  
So I acquit myself the pains  
That do attend those busie-brains  
And unto Hudibras, who now  
Summons his wits, and knits his brow,  
Crosses the Proverb (like a Gull)  
Grows angry when his Belly's full,  
Strokes up his forehead with a Grace,  
And looks hat-lining in the face,  
Mutters a word or two to self,  
Then calls, where's Chamberlain that Elf?  
To clear the board, or Tapster, he  
May do the office if need be:  
And so about the room he struts,  
Like him that newly filled had Guts;  
Or as 'tis said of Crow in Gutter,  
His arms like wings about did flutter:  
He rubs his elbow, than his pate,  
Call up the Squires, (quoth he) 'tis late,  
And bid 'em bring with them their Charge,  
My word is a Mandamus large  
Enough; all Consultations are  
Ripest at Night, as th' Romans were;  
The Morning's dew the Poets suck,  
That makes 'em poor, (the worse luck)  
Their friend Aurora doth inspire  
Their Fancies but with early fire,  
Not well grown up, a sainting light,  
When weighty matters require night,  
And in the Statesman's Cabinet,  
We there fore will in Council set.  
But here Sir Hudibras mistook,  
And went a mile beside his Book,  
For he that is a Poet right,  
Doth court the Morn, and weds the Night:  
And such as have the happy fate  
To steer a Stage, can steet a State.  
The Squires at Call obedient were,  
And to their Arms did soon repair;  
The Prisoners were conducted up,  
After they'd ta'en a lusty sup  
Of knocking Ale, though liquor muddy,  
It in their Cheeks raised colours ruddy.  
Quoth Hudibras, draw nearer you,  
And you Jack-daw get to your Crew,  
Speaking Quack, Be me Shack-daw?  
(Quoth he) you be Shack-nape, pishaw—  
Me no care dis— begar me be  
A Gentlehome in mine Country,  
Me tell you dat, better den you,  
Vat den? may foy me speak the true.  
Quoth Hudibras, thou saucy Wight,  
Compare how dar'st thou with Sir Knight?  
Him, into whose more powerful hands  
Confiscate are thy life and lands,  
As thou shalt see, soon after Trial  
Sentence shall pass without denial.  
So he surveys the Room, and where  
Solomon painted was set's Chair,  
And seats self in't; quoth he, before  
We handle th' matter shut the door,  
And snuff the Candles, they burn dim:  
The Squire with haste obeyed him.  
Then Hudibras bid 'em sit down  
At Table's end, and mind their own,  
Which was their Arms; then frown he threw  
At Prisoners, might have made them spew  
Their Suppers up; but when he saw  
It had no power upon their Maw,  
He finds another way, and blisters  
Sir Guillielmo's Ears with whispers;  
At fingers ends he pleads their Cases,  
(The ancient way used by Arbaces:)  
And as his head and fingers played,  
Quoth Capon, sure he's of our Traid;  
Mark, Master, if he can refrain  
To show in part Legerdemain;  
I, now again; he dost with ease,  
And has more Roguish tricks then these;  
Fear not, I warrant we are quit,  
Hang him, he has a pestilent Wit.  
Sudden as Thunder (that sours Beer)  
As loud too, he bids Wretches hear,  
For now his anger is grown hot,  
And a Fool's bolt is soon shot;)  
Are you ashamed to show your Faces?  
Then to the brown Cow turn your Arses,  
(A Militia word much used  
In Scotland, though by some abused,  
And signifies to face about,  
True, we might here have left it out:)  
He riseth from his Chir, and strait  
Fills it again, to show his State;  
Supports his whiskers with forefinger,  
Bites thumb, instead of candied Ginger,  
Which, if you dare to take my word,  
At that time house could not afford;  
But Don de Fogo (by relation)  
Speaks it a sign of indignation,  
A menacement unto the Foe;  
And it may well be taken so,  
From hence the ancient Proverb comes,  
The angry man will eat his Thumbs:  
But in another sense we find  
The matter of a different kind.  
As when o'er Coward one prevails,  
He swears he'll make him eat his Nails:  
Yet seriously considered, we  
Find not the sense to disagree,  
For nail to thumb's a noted friend,  
And holds out to the very end,  
So that if nail a sufferer be,  
The thumb must share by sympathy;  
So much for that, and now to him  
Y cliped Hudibras the Grim,  
And yet he'll smile, but then beware,  
For sure it is against the hair;  
Quoth he, 'tis fit we should take care  
(Imprimis) to know what you are,  
From whence you came, and what you do  
In England, not a place for you:  
We have no vagrant People here,  
But what are punished most severe;  
And if you do transgress our Laws,  
You are condemned for the same Cause.  
Your Lex (quoth Quack) me no concern,  
Vat's dat to dee ver me vas born,  
Me be no eshamed of mi Country,  
Me be a Frenshman de Parree:  
'Tis no fourboon to use me dus,  
Venus Anglond be in Leagne vid us.  
That makes not for you a bare word,  
Quoth Hudibras, so thumped the board  
With fist as hard, as who should say,  
What misehief's this, would it were day;  
For Arguments grew on apace,  
And so did Night put Case to Case;  
If thest or murder you commit,  
Quoth he, pray, who shall pardon it?  
Th' Offence done here; Good Mr. Slus  
Ter, must not the mercy come from us?  
Begar (quoth Quack) me be no sush Man,  
Me travelled Swed. Ital. and Dushland,  
Nay par ma foy all de World o'er,  
And me never vas served dus before.  
Quoth Hudibras, what made you to  
About you call so base a Crew  
Of Tag and Rag, lewd hare-brained fellows,  
Many of them deserving Gallows?  
This will be found an insurrection,  
To which the Law denys protection;  
In time of Peace to raise a rude  
And giddy-headed multitude,  
To break the Peace!— No, no, begar  
(Quoth Quack) you break a de Peace vid Var,  
You draw the Sword, and cock de Pistall,  
Come down sa, sa, ven day ver whist all;  
Begar you break a de Peace me say.  
Quoth Hudibras, an Ass will bray,  
And so dost thou; I tell thee, this  
Crime is indictable, that ' 'tis.  
Ditable! vat be dat? quoth he,  
Me no it understand, fi, fi.  
Quoth Hudibras, what do we know  
But you come here to stir up Foe;  
To set the needy Cavaliers  
And us together by the Ears,  
That Money have, which they do want,  
And fort will fight like Termagant,  
And so our Valours be upbraided,  
And every Road be Ambuscaded;  
This we interpret may a Plot  
To raise a new War, is it not,  
Bro. Gill.? Now he of speech was slow,  
Because he would not his teeth show,  
And to avoid the carping might  
Upon his words and judgement light,  
Which showed his wisdom, and intent,  
By silence still to give consent;  
For the best way to shun dispute,  
Is to say nothing, or he mute.  
So on Sir Hudibras proceeds;  
And aggravates Quack's foul misdeeds,  
So high, and with so strong a sense,  
You'd wonder it should come from thence,  
Begar (quoth Quack) you be the strange  
Man in the Varl, your vit do range;  
Me tell you one, two, tree, fore times,  
Me be no born here in your Climes,  
Me be de Frenchman, profess Physsick,  
Me cure de Pock, de Cough, the Phthisic,  
De Ish, de Gout, the Ash in bones,  
And me begar can cut your Stones.  
How's that? quoth wrathful Hudibras,  
That word shan't unrevenged pass:  
A Purse (too) can you cut? quoth he,  
And pick a Pocket if need be?  
Or are employed by those that do,  
To draw the main end up, the Crew?  
Me no endure dis ting, nor dat,  
Quoth Quack, come hedder, show de Pat.  
Capon, vid hands of approbation  
From the College, pour toleration,  
From Potentates, and mighty Princes,  
Dat in the World de like not since is.  
Quoth Hudibras, oh is it so,  
You kill, Cum privilegio;  
Ensnared you are by this account,  
And Crimes on Crimes super-amount,  
For Murder, or the like, there is  
No help left for you saving this,  
Show something signed by Parliament,  
Or Oliver, to that intent,  
And we'll acquit you, give you o'er,  
Else we proceed must as before:  
What say you for yourself? Dis be  
(Quoth Quack) may foy very pretty;  
Vat do me need hands from sush tings,  
Venus me have got the hands of Kings?  
Me never did seek after them.  
Your words (quoth Hudibras) condemn  
Yourself; but e'er we sentence pass,  
Come hither fellow with your Lass:  
What Trade art thou? (Quoth Capon) none;  
I thank my Parents, I'm but one  
Of thirteen that is lest alive,  
The rest Grigg. did of breath deprive.  
'Tis fit thou make up Bakers dozen,  
(Quoth Hudibras) not Hangman cozen.  
And what are you, there, Mistress Minks?  
With Cheeks that look like drooping Pinks?  
What trade do you drive 'mong these fellows?  
Are you Whore-ripe (too) for the Gallows?  
At which the Squires looked very sad,  
Fearing her Case would prove but bad.  
Quoth she, I must confess I am  
(an't please your Worship) what I am,  
And have a long time foliowed this  
French Doctor here for Had-I-wiss.  
Art thou a Man, of art thou Woman?  
Quoth Hudibras, for both are common.  
Quoth she, I'm of the weaker Sex,  
●●d bless your Worship, Vivat Rex.  
What's that, quoth he, you muttered last?  
I doubt y'are Male beneath the Waste,  
For as some Authors well have noted,  
Youths have been sometimes petticoated;  
If so, there must be danger in't,  
Statutes against it live in Print:  
Search her, examine all the nicks,  
For I do hate those Player's tricks.  
Glad of the Office, Squires begin  
To strip her to the very skin.  
Quoth Capon, hold, to end the strife,  
an't please you (Sir) she is my Wife,  
A Woman right. Yes (Sir) quoth she,  
Your Men know that as well as he.  
She had a quick and piercing sight,  
And found they Servants were to Knight.  
Nay then (quoth Hudibras) if she  
Be leeful lawful Wife to thee,  
Inquire no further; Squires forbear,  
And touch not the forbidden Ware,  
Quoth she, I thank your love for that,  
Your Men I knew would harm me not.  
Quoth Hudibras, Friend, take her to thee,  
And many a good turn may she do thee:  
His Passion (now) left to be wild,  
As sleep came on, so he grew mild,  
He found the Night look monstrous grim,  
And Morpheus had surprised him,  
He gapes, and yawns, and nods his head,  
(Summons that call Mortals to bed)  
What is't a Clock (quoth he) d'ye think?  
(One would have thought he'ad been in drink)  
Sure it draws near to break of day,  
And I have something more to say:  
Oh Brother, that you could me help,  
But you are better skilled in Kelp  
(For which he was about go get  
A Patent, but was choosed of it:)  
Since then (quoth he) the Charge is mine,  
To quicken Spirits fill some Wine;  
And having ta'en a glass or two,  
As Cicero did use to do,  
When he in Council sat up late,  
For benefit of Roman State;  
He Temples rubbed to whet his Wits,  
And gravely down again he sits:  
Quoth he, your Crimes are great I know;  
But we to anger (now) are slow;  
Justice is pictured blind, and the  
Reason is, cause she will not see,  
And though some say she is Impartial,  
'Tis found contrary in each Martial,  
Or that she should not lend an Ear  
To this, or that, for love, or fear.  
Now that we fear you not, you know,  
And love you can't, what Snake in Bornwell-  
Some? for you are our Enemies,  
'twixt these Extremes, (then) your Case lies;  
So that a moderate way we must  
Find out, or you are all but dust;  
And that must full of Honour be,  
Or else we lose the Glory, We  
By Conquest won; and now I hit it,  
(This 'tis to be so ready witted)  
By laws of Arms we are to give  
Quarter to him desires to live;  
What he is Master of is Ours,  
Excepting life, all's in our Powers;  
For such never Valour▪ understood,  
That kills his Enemy in cool blood;  
It Murder is conceived by some,  
Of which we'll wash our hands, come, come;  
Now one would think he called for Water,  
But mark, I pray, what followed after;  
We made you Prisoners by our Might,  
And all you have is ours by right;  
But as the truly generous Spirit  
Minds nothing more than Honour's merit,  
So all the Plundex is our due  
We gratis do restore to you,  
And as you are part penpale●,  
But half soul'd things, and therefore frail,  
we'll grant you so your liberty,  
As may with Honour best agree;  
There's several ways, which are not strange,  
Upon P●●ol, or in Exchange:  
Now Fortune was so just a Guide,  
That all the loss was on your side,  
And there the Case does differ much,  
Prisoners you are, you have none such;  
Others have left a Guage behind  
Till their return, which is to bind;  
But we'll direct a nearer way  
For you to walk, without more stay,  
Y'ave plentifully fed on food,  
And therefore 'tis but reason good,  
Without more words, or further beckoning,  
You presently discharge the Reckoning,  
Then cast your Caps up all, and cry,  
Long live our Noble Enemy.  
Begar me vill do no sush ting,  
Quoth Quack, me say, Viva de King,  
Of mine Country; vat me to do  
To make sush Preachament pour you?  
Me no deny to pay mine share,  
Pour mine self, and mine Servants dear,  
And me vill pay no more begar,  
Pour all you be de Man of Warr.  
I tell you once again, y'are dust,  
If you deny a thing so just,  
Quoth Hudibras; if we once fly on,  
You'll find what 'tis to wake a Lion;  
Have we you treated more like Friends  
Then Enemies, and's this the mends?  
Squires to your Arms, seize all they have,  
Only their dirty Vitals save:  
Now Hudibras begins to rant,  
Lo what it is for Man to want  
Sleep; Man but two eyes has in's head,  
Must they be ever opened?  
What serves lids for, who (like Watch-cases)  
Should close eyes up safe in their places?  
But when the brains boil their pot,  
Then are the lids made fiery hot,  
And stifie, they cannot shut the eyes,  
And there 'tis thought the reason lies.  
The Squires the Foe do hunch and justle,  
But 'twas in vain for Quack to bustle,  
His party was to weak: Quoth he,  
Me vill pay the reck'nen jesvous pres;  
All, quoth the Squires, or none: Me vill  
Pay all, quoth he, but hold you still▪  
It be no boon fashion to pay,  
Me tink, till me do go avay,  
Me do not at de reckonen grush,  
Dough me do tink it very much,  
De Jentlehome, de Traveller,  
Pishaw, do no such thing begar,  
Dey stayin Inn pershanse two, tree  
Days, four boon, but pay no penny  
Till they do mount chival, and den  
Dey call mine Host take the Recknen,  
Me now loge here does night, Alles,  
In the morning me cry ver be ye,  
And dischrage house vid all mine Soul.  
Quoth Hudibras, upon parole  
Depart you may, that is to bed,  
Be sure you keep to what y'ave said,  
And e'er your Journey, in the Morn  
Bring me a Plaster for my Corn.  
We, We, quoth Quack, me cure you all  
Be this a Clock, or Diablo fall:  
Which reached not Hudibras his Ears,  
'Twas muttered as they went, down stairs.  
Quoth Squires, we'll toss a Cup or two  
(When Knights are safe in bed) with you.  
Vid all mine heart, (quoth Quack) me'l stay  
One, two, tree ours pour you ma foy.  
The Knights hasten to bed apace:  
And Squires their Armout do unbrace,  
(Yclyped Doublets) Ostler call  
To pull off Boors, clean 'em withal;  
Then down in Bed, not Bed of Down,  
But such as served (when came to Town)  
Tom Carrier, Knights their Bodies lay,  
And bid the Squires take lights away;  
Dispatch to bed, and special care  
Take of Portmanteau that was there;  
For Truckling there was none in Room,  
Unless on Rushes they would strome  
(Which some call streieht) themselves, and so  
Take key, shut door, and down they go  
To seek a roosting place, and spend  
Some time with Damosel their Friend,  
And Quack, whose Gibberish pleased 'em much,  
Capono (too) for wit, none such,  
With little search they find 'em out,  
In a ground-Chamber, hung about  
With Cobwebs of the finest thread,  
Truckle there was, but ne'er a Bed,  
A decent Matt there was indeed,  
Of Sheets or Rugg they had no need,  
Th' weather was insulting hot,  
And Fleas would vex where they would not  
Have 'em; and so to mend the matter  
They drink about, and no words scatter.  
At last (as if 't had been allotted)  
The Squires ('twas said) were shrewdly potred,  
And sleep they must, than down on Mat  
They threw themselves, left Cloak and Hat;  
But Subtle Quack, and's crafty Crew  
Slept not, they'd something else to do.  
By this time day began to peep,  
And fellows heard cry, Chimney sweep,  
Which serves as Clock to call up Bess,  
Harry, or Will, to mind business,  
Especially the Kitchenmaid,  
To make fires that o'er night she laid:  
In the mean while Quack was not idle,  
(Cunning as Horse had bit o'th' Bridle:)  
The Damsel (one that would be thriving)  
In the Squire's Pockets fell to diving:  
Their Cloaks were packed up 'mongst the luggage,  
(Thus Men are served When they are sluggish:)  
The Gates but newly opened were,  
All things were hushed, and Coast was clear,  
And so unseen they huddle out  
Into the Street, than wheel about:  
Some Minutes after folks began rouse  
From Beds, and show heads out of house,  
To be in readiness for Fair,  
Some to show Tricks, some sell their Ware,  
And some to see, and some to buy,  
That in Purse had but a penny;  
And now the Streets began to fill,  
While Knights and Squires lie dormant still,  
Regardless of their late mishap,  
Nor dreaming of an after clap.  
But as things strangely come to pass,  
So happened it with Hudibras;  
Right underneath his Window, there  
Was placed a Show, and Trumpeter,  
Who to entice the People in,  
Did make a most Prodigious, din,  
And as the knack on't is, another  
Did answer him, whom he called Brother,  
So that by Repercusions they  
Were got a Note beyond Ela,  
Echoed by others in the Fair,  
As though they meant to rend the air,  
This startled Hudibras, who slew  
(Like Lightning) out of Bed, and drew  
(In shirt) his Whynniard, what are we  
Betrayed? Rise Brother Guill, quoth he;  
Hark, the whole Town is up in Arms;  
On every side we have Alarms,  
Let's die like Men, and not be shin  
In Bed, or like tame Pigeons ta'en  
Out of our Roost, but dare the Foe,  
Take Horse, and boldly mongst, 'em go.  
Quoth then Sir Guill. this cannot be  
Our late defeated Enemy,  
For they securely sleep in house,  
As sure as Gournets' do in souse,  
It rather must be some old Plot  
Newly broke forth, say, is it not?  
Quoth Hudibras, it may be so,  
Get up, and we shall better know.  
Quoth then Sir Guill, this is a base,  
(And to our side) a cursed place;  
I love not fight so near th' Water,  
Doubting the danger may come after.  
Quoth Hudibras, 'tis but a sound,  
It born t' be hanged you'll here be drowned;  
Besides, we'll make our peace with these  
Prisoners we have; the Wench will please,  
That was well thought on, quoth Sir Guill,  
I will get up, I that I will.  
Where are our Squires, they come not near:  
Sure they are half struck dead with fear.  
The Chamberlain is called, to call  
The Squires, to bind the Prisoners all:  
Unwillingly they rise from Mats  
And shake their heads like two drowned Rats,  
They missed the Monfleur and his Mates,  
Their Cloaks and Hats too, scratched their Pates  
For madness they should be served so;  
(But there's no truth in fawning Foe.)  
After strict search th' Squires fell to weeping,  
Must we then pay so dear for sleeping?  
Quoth they, th' worse luck: Oh thou she Fiend,  
We thought thou wouldst have proved our friend,  
Knights called above (in sum no doubt)  
To bring up boots, and be let out;  
The Squires in haste thrust hands in Pockets  
(Their Wits were quite out of the sockets)  
To feel for Key, and miss their Money,  
their Watches (too) oh C— C—  
How basely dost thou deal with Man?  
(But all the mischief that it can)  
If ever we meet thee again,  
For this trick, we will show thee ten:  
So up they went, in piteous plights,  
And told all to their Masters, Knights.  
How, how (in rage) quoth Hudibras,  
Durst they depart without my Pass?  
Or bringing Medicine for my Corn,  
I'll make 'em rue they e'er were born,  
If I do find 'em 'mongst the Foe;  
For forth I will, and forth I'll go.  
Ask Chamberlain if they have paid  
The Reckoning, of which I'm afraid:  
No Sir, quoth they, they ne'er thought on't,  
Our Cloaks and Hats top marched upon't,  
(Money, nor Watches, durst not name,  
They better should have watched the same.)  
How, robbed, and cheated too (oh Gull!)  
This 'tis to be so merciful,  
Quoth Hudibras, can none descry  
Where, and how strong's the Enemy?  
Quoth Squire (one) here is kept a Fair,  
To which all Comers welcome are,  
No greater Foe assuredly,  
Then Hobby-horse, and Puppet-try.  
The greatest Foe of all, and they  
hall dearly for your losses pay,  
Quoth Hudibras; among that Rout  
The others sculke, we'll find 'em out.  
First, there is shown the deadly sins,  
Which with the Box keeper begins;  
Jane Shores disgrace, and lamentation,  
(A Concubine not now in fashion.)  
Then David, and Vriah's Wife,  
And Doctor Faustus to the life:  
With many trifles more, which do  
Allude unto Profaneness too;  
Abomination 'mongst 'em dwells,  
Of which I mean to rid their Cells,  
And clear the Streets of Superstition,  
And its Idolatrous condition.  
Then Knights mount Steeds, and at a word  
(In one hand Pistol, t'other Sword)  
The Squires on foot the Horse attend,  
(The readier to find out false-friend.)  
They stared about, folk thought 'em mad,  
(For neither Cloak nor Hat they had:)  
As soon as they were got in Street,  
The People ran (as it was meet)  
And at next door their malice lights,  
(Which lately had disturbed the Knights.)  
Quoth Hudibras, fall on, fall on,  
And spare not there a Mother's Son:  
At which the folk, forsook the Sight,  
And left the Puppets in sad plight,  
Some lost a Cloak, and some a Hat,  
Which to the Squires came very pat;  
The Box with Money flew about,  
For which they were not grown so stout  
As not to stoop; they thought on Quack,  
And then the Puppets went to wrack;  
They cut what ere they hit upon,  
Down comes the Tower of Babylon.  
Quoth Fellow, Pox upon you, Sir,  
For spoiling Nabuchadnezer,  
His Nose was cut out ill before,  
But now you have abused it more,  
How think you after this disgrace  
he's able to look Beast in face?  
They mind him not, but out they bring,  
As Captive bound, Babylon's King:  
And in their havoc grow more bold,  
They pull down Rag, which Story told,  
And as a Trophy bear't before  
Sir Hudibras, and one Knight more,  
To wit, Sir Guill. so on they troth,  
With all the Pillage they had got,  
Greedy of more, but were prevented  
By Butcher's stout, that Fair frequented,  
Who seeing Squires quoyle to keep,  
And, Men to run faster than Sheep,  
Quoth they (to People) what d'ye fear?  
There's neither Bull got loose, nor Bear,  
And will you seem to make escape  
From fencing fools, and Jack-a-nape  
On horseback? Clad in Coat of Plush?  
Yet looks but like a Slow on bush:  
Keep, keep your ground) we'll force 'em back,  
Or may— we never Money lack.  
Then out they Snap, and Towser call,  
Two cunning Curs,, that would not bawl,  
But slily fly at throat, or tail,  
And in their Course would seldom fail:  
The Butchers hoot, the Dogs fall on,  
The Horses kick, and wince, anon,  
Down comes spruce Valour to the ground,  
And both Sir Knights laid in a swound,  
They like stout Horsemen kept the Saddle,  
As long as ever they were able;  
But such as Honour forward pricks.  
Must now and then expect Horse-tricks.  
The Squires with grief ran hom to Quarters  
To hang themselves, had they found Garters:  
Man should not trust to Fortune more  
Than to a Sodometick-Whore,  
Whose best of Actions are by night,  
So, as she's blind, she hates the light.  
This Hudibras (who not long since  
Did think himself a perty Prince)  
Does sorely find, on sides and guts,  
(Oh out upon such fickle Sluts.)  
So out o'th' Bowels of Compassion,  
Knights were said home in an odd fashion,  
Where we will leave 'em for Recovery,  
And then set forth a new Discovery.  
FINIS.   

The Printer to the Reader.  
THe Author having not time to attend the 〈◊〉 Mistakes have happened (but not 〈◊〉 very gross) which is desired, thou wilt either pass by; or amend, with thy Pen.  
Farewell.