Knight-Errantry; OR, DON QUIXOT Encountering the WINDMILL. BEING A Relation of the Siege OF KNOCK.  Spectatum Admissi risum teneatis amici. Hor. Ar. Po. 

THE bold Allies, whose Pride and Numbers swell,  
In Peaceful Camps resolve no more to dwell;  
But to direct their Fury and their Gall  
A grave Cabal, They, of the Sagest, call;  
Whose Teeming Brains in Copulation join,  
To Procreate Some Shapely, brave design.  
With an unusual stir they pant, and heave,  
The Generous offspring labouring to Conceive;  
Till after many Pangs, and tedious Throws  
The Graceful Pregnant Hero with THE NOSE  
Brought forth, to this effect, some wondrous Prose.   

My Friends, 'tis true, some Blood the Wars have cost;  
Some Treasure has been spent, and Towns been lost;  
But passed unlucky Chances to redeem,  
And reinstate our Lauguishing Esteem,  
To Action we'll Proceed: A mighty Town  
Shall be besieged, of strength, and of renown:  
From whence we'll France so forcibly invade  
She'll soon disgorge the Conquest she has made;  
'Tis KNOCK'S the Place shall feel our Thundering hand,  
The Noblest Fortress that secures the Land.  
Where, if success doth with our Councils hit,  
Ypre, and Dunkirk will in ●ourse submit.  
Those Petty Forts will ne'er withstand our Powers  
When Knock, the famed Metropolis, is ours.  
'Tis there, my Warriors, we'ell defeat the Foe;  
There purchase Praise, and rich in Glory grow;  
'Tis there th' enslaved, the wounded and the slain  
Shall give an Earnest of a Blessed Campaign.   

With that, to Boast his Manhood, he Assumed  
A Frowning Look; and fiercely Cocked, and Plumed,  
Into a sort of Warlike fit he flew,  
And, in the Furious Transport, almost drew,  
Then thus Proceeded—   

The Stubborn murmuring Britain's loudly roar  
That we're in debt; but Knock shall pay the Score:  
That in 7 years it is a Burning shame  
've nothing done; but Knock shall raise our Fame:  
That Mons' Loss, and two Great Cities more  
It is a Deep wound; But Knock shall heal the Sore:  
That of its Wealth th' exhausted Realm we drain  
To Feed th' Allies; But Knock shall filled again▪  
That Horrid Crimes we Act, They dare not Name  
For fear of Law; But Knock shall Mend the Same:  
Where, tho' we fail, the Conscious World must tell,  
From vast attempts, how gloriously we fell.   

At that they all out into raptures broke,  
And deeply swore, the God of Wisdom Spoke.   

They no sooner Agreed on this Project uncommon,  
Then the Chief of the Cause showed himself not a slow Man:  
For Commands to make ready for Death, and for slaughter  
Flew as quick as the Bullets, that caused 'em, flew after;  
And the brisk Engineers, to amazement, and wonder,  
Were as Nimble as Light'ing, to rig out their Thunder,  
And Select the bold Blades, that without any Flattery,  
Whole Millions of Oaths, on occasion, could scatter ye,  
And of Old had been famed for Assault, and for Battery.  
Those Too, that when School Boys, could craftily slip into Orchards, and steal the Pear-main, and the Pippin;  
That a Warren could Plunder, and rob a Hen-roost too,  
Were earnestly sought, as the Men they must trust to:  
For 'tis such, we must own, at the business of Storming  
Are the Loons of most skill, and the Mightiest performing.  
And now through the Camp risen a Terrible Tattle,  
The Trumpets spoke loud, and the Drums made a rattle  
To rouse up their Spirits, and call them to Battle.  
And that most incomp'rable Music the Fife  
In the Ears of the Soldiers was wonderful rife,  
Sufficient in Cowards to put life, and mettle,  
And make Guinea-Gold of a Common Brass Kettle.   

On the March the Gay, witty, spruce Lads that were half in  
With Beer, and with Brandy were joking, and Laughing  
At Knock; In a whole Summer's day one shan't see  
The Like, how the Name on't tickled their Fancy:  
Till at length they came up about 12 a Clock one day  
(I think 'twas the Ninth of the Month, and a Sunday)  
When at night some detached Grenadiers that were trusty  
Felt the Pulse of the place; which they found to be Lusty;  
Whose Fortified Caps were as thick, and as tall  
As an Ordinary Gar'sons Rampart or Wall.  
On the Fronts of 'em Raw head and Bloody Bones painted,  
Enough to scare Men, with such sights, not acquainted,  
And 'twas well for the French, that they came hit, or miss, on  
In the dark, who not else would have touched Ammunition,  
Or dared to have faced such a dire Apparition.  
Tho' some of them Knavishly Crawling, and Creeping  
Into other Folks Premises, paid for their Peeping.  
To be short, when the Foe had severely rebuffed 'em,  
And with multiplied infamy Kicked 'em, and cuffed 'em,  
When their Guns, that divided Men's Corpse into Quarters,  
Had Canonised Saints, and made many Martyrs;  
When Fat Beef and Pudding, prized highly by all had  
Been banged by Soop meager, and Thin-gutted Salad,  
When to no sort of purpose at all there, by God, They,  
Had lain the third part of a Month, and an odd day,  
Not to break an Old Custom, much lessened in Number,  
They drew off to Dixmuyde, with their remnant of Lumber;  
Where on Brown Bread, and Butter, they Manfully Forage,  
And Curse their damned Foes, that are friendly to Porridge.   

Thence a Mercury flew, to report the disaster,  
To the JOVE (at Becclaer that lay snorting) his Master:  
Who thus was informed after twenty God's Bluds, Sir.  
The Place is too strong, and the Siege in the suds Sir.  
Notwithstanding, the DON, tho' the Case was a sad one  
Put the best Face he could on't tho' God knows, a Bad one;  
And Said that no more such affronts he'd endure,  
But the Scandal of Knock, would revenge on NAMURE;  
That the French (and then horribly Swore by his Maker)  
Should have Cause to Confess him a Bloody Town-Taker   

Now some think the Sharper, to lay his Plot Closer,  
Played off a few men, with design to be Loser;  
And that all was a Politic Cheat, and shame Trick  
To draw in the Bubbles, and give 'em a damned Nick;  
That the Fox, with a fetch most egregiously quaint.  
To push home at Namure, at La Knockque made a faint;  
And no more meant his Fame should be murdered or wounded,  
Than the Child that's unborn, or the Man in the Moon did:  
Tho' I must declare, with a Solemn Protesting,  
That I don't know what's earnest, if this was but jesting.  
Or how any Wight, in his Right senses, can Sir,  
Hope the Master to beat, that's subdued by the Man Sir:  
For Lafoy Knock is no better, for all its renown,  
Than a Footboy, or Page to a fortified Town;  
No; 'tis rage, and despair drives him on; It can never  
Be hopes of success that inclined him; However  
we'll leave Him as well as he can to Namure it,  
And return to La Knocque, that took care to secure it  
Self bravely; as we shall still freely Confess it  
And thus, in Heroics, make bold to Address it.   

For thee, La Knoque, tho' small's thy space, and room;  
Thy Story shall be large in time to Come;  
Thy worth shall Sound on every distant shore  
Loud as the Drum can beat, or Cannon roar,  
Tho' slight in force, and of a slender Fame,  
Little-Fort-Knock, has been thy former Name;  
But since thou'rt now Baptised with BRITISH BLOOD,  
And brave MONTAL for Godfather has stood,  
No more with disrespect thy Name We'll treat,  
But, Newly Christened, from thy Foes defeat,  
Thou, for the future, shalt be KNOCK THE GREAT.   
July 4th. 1695  
FINIS.   

Printed the Year 1695.