n.ss Pff333 S Book ' f\n PRKSENTEI) 15Y i ^ ^Q HVDIBRA8; THREE PARTS: g^ITTEN IN THE TIME OF THE LATE WAJ18 BY SAMUEL BUTLER, ESQ. WITH LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, ANNOTATIONS, AND AN INDEX, NEW YORK: ROBINSON AND FRANKLIN (SUCCCSSO! % TO LEAVITT, LORD AND C'C.) 1839. ' 4^" >z . a 6 ' I ^ TO THE READER. PoBTA nascitur non fit, is a sentence of as great truth as antiquity ; it being most certain, that all the acquired learning imaginable is insuffi- cient to complete a poet, without a natural ge- nious and propensity to so noble and sublime an art. And we may, without offence, observe, that many very learned men, who have been ambitious to be thought poets, have only ren- dered themselves obnoxious to that satirical in- spiration our author wittily invokes : Which made them, though it were in spite Of nature and their stars, to write. On the one side, some who have had very little human learning, but were endued with a large share of natural wit and parts, have be- come the most celebrated* poets of the age they lived in. But as these last are ' Raree aves in terris,' so, when the Muses have not disdain- ed the assistances of other arts and sciences, we are then blessed with those lasting monu- ments of wit and learning, which may justly claim a kind of eternity upon earth : and our author, had his. modesty permitted him, might with Horace have said, Exegi monumentum aere perennius: Or, with Ovid, Jamque opus exegi, quod nee Jovis Ira, nee ignis, Nee Poterit ferrum, nee adax abolerc vetustas. The author of this celebrated poem was of this last composition : for although he had not the happiness of an academical education, as some affirm, it may be perceived, throughout his whole poem, that he had read much, and was very well accomplished in the most useful parts of human learning. Rapin, in his reflections, speaking of the ne- cessary qualities belonging to a poet, tells us, Shakspeare, Davenant, &c w TO THE READER. ' he must have a genius extraordinary ; great natural gifts ; a wit just, fruitful, piercing, solid, and universal ; an understanding clear and dis- tinct ; an imagination neat and pleasant ; an elevation of soul that depends not only on art or study, but is purely the gift of heaven, which must be sustained by a lively sense and vivaci- ty ; judgment to consider wisely of things, and vivacity for the beautiful expression of them,'&c. Now, how justly this character is due to our author we leave to the impartial reader, and those of nicer judgment, who had the happiness to be more intimately acquainted with him. The reputation of this incomparable poem is so thoroughly established in the world, that it would be superfluous, if not impertinent, to endeavour any panegyric upon it. King Charles 11. whom the judicious part of mankind will readily acknowledge to be a sovereign judge of wit, was so great an admirer of it, that he would often pleasantly quote it in his conversation. However, since most men have a curiosity to have some account of such anonymous authors whose compositions have been eminent for wit or learning, we ha for their information, subjoined a short I ^ the Author. SAMUEL BUTLER Was bom in the parish of Strensham, in Wor- cestershire, in 1612, probably in February, as we find that he was christened on the 14th day of that month. Of his parents our information is very scanty. They gave him education, however, at the grammar school of Worcester, whence h» was removed either to Cambridge or Oxford. For some time he was clerk to Mr. JefFerys, of Earls-Croomb,in Worcestershire, an eminent justice of the peace ; and, while in this gentle- man's service, had leisure for study, and amused himself by practising music and painting. He was afterward admitted into the family of the Countess of Kent, where he enjoyed the use of a library, and the conversation of the celebrated Selden. From this house he removed into the family of Sir Samuel Luke, one of Cromwell's officers, and from what he saw here, is supposed to have conceived the design of ridiculing the practices of the republican party, and of form- ing his hero on some peculiarities in the cha- racter of Sir Samuel. On the restoration, he was made secretary to the Earl of Carbury, president of the princi- pality of Wales, who conferred on him the stewardship of Ludlow Castle, which Mr. War- ton thinks was a very honourable and lucrative office. About this time he married Mrs. Her- bert, a lady of some fortune, which, one of his biographers informs us, was lost by bad secu- rities. In 1663, the first three cantos of his Hudibras were published, and introduced to the attention of the court by the Earl of Dorset. In the fol- lowing year, the second part made its appear- ance ; and such was the general popularity of this poem, and the particular favour with which it was received by the king and courtiers, that every one expected some special reward would be bestowed on the ingenious author : but, ex- cept three hundred guineas which the king is vi LIFE OF SAMUEL BUTLER. said, upon no very good authority, to have sent to him, we find no trace of any reward or pro- motion whatever. Discouraging as this treat- ment was, Butler published the third part in 1678, which still leaves the story imperfect. He died in 1680, and was buried in the church-yard of Covent Garden. About sixty years afterward. Alderman Barber, the printer, erected a monument to his memory in West- minster Abbey. After his death three small volumes of his posthumous pieces were published, but among them ai*e many spurious. In 1759, Mr. Thayer, of Manchester, published two volumes, which are indubitably genuine, and consist of prose and verse ; but from neither of these publica- tions can we collect any information as to his private life and character. He is said to have made no figure in conversation proportionate to the vni displayed in his immortal poem ; and King Charles, who had a curiosity to see him, could never be brought to believe that he wrote Hudibras. Butler has usually been ranked among the unfortunate poets v/ho have been neglected by their age ; yet although we can find no proof of royal munificence having been extended to him, there appears no reason to think that he was poor in the most unfavourable sense. Although the persons and events introduced in Hudibras are now forgotten, or known only to historic students, tlic exquisite humour of this piece is still as keenly relished as when first pre- sented to the public; and much of it has long been introduced into conversation as axioms of wit and sense. It has, indeed, been justly ob- served by Dr. Nash, that, concerning Hudibras, there is but one sentiment: it is universally allowed to be the first and last poem of its kind ; the learning, wit, and humour certainly ptand MJirivalled. RigV Chief d: ^ Either foi^ 1. Dudgeon, \ edition of this poej. ,_ soiiietimos for the wo\ thor would have changed . . ;is ' dudgeon' is, for that oi ^• edition. To take in dudgeon, injury or affront ; a sort of grumb'^ «v'!u!,t is previous to actual fury. .id 60 jing a justice of the colonel of a regiment ^/,and a committee-man, ,/s, supposes his cat thoughJ ^0 in playing with her. PART I.— CANTO I. 9 He had such plenty as sufficed To make some think him circumcis''d ; And truly, so he was perhaps, Not as a proselyte, but for claps. He was in loo-ic a great critick, 65 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. 70 He'd imdertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse. He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl. And that a lord may be an owl, A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, 75 And rooks committee-men and trustees. He'd run in debt by disputation. And pay with ratiocination. All this'by syllogism, true In mood and figure he would do. 80 For Rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope : 62. Here again is an alteration without any amendment . for tlie following lines, And truly, so he was, perhaps, Not as a proselyte, but for claps. Are thus changed : And truly so, perhaps, he was ; 'Tis many a pious Christian's case. The Heathens had an odd opinion, and have a strange reason why Moses imposed the law of circumcision on the Jews ; which, how untrue soever, I will give the learned reader an account of v^ithout translation ; as I find it in the annotations upon Horace, wrote by my worthy and learned friend Mr. William Baxter, the great restorer of the ancient, and promoter of modern iearniiig. Hor. Sat. 9. Sermon, lib. i.— ' Curtis ; quia pellicula immi- nuti sunt ; quia Moses Rex Judseorem, cujus Legibus regun- tur, negligeiitia mcdicinaliter exsectus est, et ne eolus esset notabilis, omnes circumcidi voluit. Vet. SchoU Vocem quae inscitia Librarii exciderat reposui mils ex conjectura, uti et medicinaliter exsectus pro medici. nalis effectus quae nihil erant. Gluis miretur ejusmodi con- vicia homini Epicureo atque Pagano excidisse? Jure igitur Henrico Glareano Diaboli Organum videtur. Etiam Satyra Cluinta hffic habet : Constat omnia miracula certa ratione fieri, de quibus Epicure! prudentissime disputant.' 66. Analytic is a part of logic titat teaches to decline and con.strue reason , as grammar docs words 10 HUDIBRAS. And when he happened to break off r th' middle of his speech, or cough, H' had hard words ready to shew why, 85 And tell what rules he did it by : Else, when with greatest art he spoke, You'd think he talk'd like other folk : For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools. 90 But, when he pleasM to shew't, his speech, In loftiness of sound, was rich ; A Babylonish dialect, Which learned pedants much affect. It was a party-colour'd dress 95 Of patch'd and pye-ball'd languages : 'Twas English cut on Greek and Latin, Like fustian heretofore on satin. It had an odd promiscuous tone. As if h' had talk'd three parts in one ; 100 Which made some think, when he did gabble, Th' had heard three labourers of Babel; Or Cerberus himself pronounce A leash of languages at once. This he as volubly would vent 105 As if his stock would ne'er be spent ; And truly to support that charge, He had supplies as vast and large : For he could coin or counterfeit New words with little or no wit : 110 Words, so debas'd and hard, no stone Was hard enough to touch them on : And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em. The ignorant for current took 'em ; 93. A confusion of languages, such as some of our modern virtuosi used to express themselves in. 103. Cerberus ; a name which our poets give a dog with three heads, which they feioned door-keeper of hell, that caressed the un fortunate souls sent thither, and devotired them that would get out acrain : yet Hercules tied him up, and made him follow. This dog with three heads, denotes the past, the present, and the time to come, which receive, arid, as it were, devour all things. Hercules got the better of him, whicli shews that heroic actions are always victorious over time, because they are present in the memory of posterity PART L— CANTO L li That had the orator, who once 115 Did fill his mouth with pebble stones When he harangu'd, but known his phrase, He would have us'd no other ways. In Matliematicks he was greater Than Tycho Brahe or Erra Pater : 120 For he, by geometrick scale, Could take the size of pots of ale ; Resolve, by signs and tangents, straight, If bread or butter wanted weight ; And wisely tell what hour o' th' day 125 The clock does strike, by algebra. Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher, And had read ev'ry text and gloss over ' Whatever the crabbed'st author hath, He understood b' implicit faith : 130 Whatever sceptic could inquire for, For ev'ry why he had a wherefore ; Knew more than forty of them do, As far as words and terms could go : All which he understood by rote, 135 And, as occasion served, would quote : 115. Demosthenes, who ia said to have had a defect in his pronunciation, which he cured by using to speak with little stones in his mouth. 120. Tycho Brahe was an eminent Danish mathematician. Quer. in Collier's Dictionary, or elsewhere. 131. Sceptic. Pyrrhowasthe chief of the sceptic philoso- Ehers, and was at first, as Apollodorus saith, a painter, then ecame the hearer of Driso, and al last the disciple of Anaxa- goras, whom he followed into India, to see the Gymnoso- phists- He pretended that men did nothing' but by custom ; that there was neither honesty nor dishonesty, justice nor mjustice, good nor evil. He was very solitary, lived to be ninety years old, was highly esteemed in his country, and created chief priest. He lived in the time of Epicurus and Theophrastus, about the 120th Olympiad. His followers were called Pyrrhonians ; besides which, they were named the Ephetics and Aphoretics, but more g-enefally Sceptics- This sect made their chiefest good to consist in a sedateness of mind,exemDt from all passions; in regulating their opi- nions, and moderating their passions, which they 'call Ataxia and Metriopathia ; and in suspending their judgment in re- gard of good and evil, truth or falsehood, which they call Epechi. Sextus Empiricus, who lived in the second century, under the Emperor Antoninus Pills, wi-it ten books againet the mathematicians or astrologers, and three of the Pyrrho- nian opinion. The word is derived from the Greek— ——• quod est, ' considerare, speculari.' 12 HUDIBRAS. No matter whether riglit or wrong. They might be either said or sung. His notions fitted things so well, That which was whicli he could not tell ; 140 But oftentimes mistook the one For th' other, as great clerks have done. He could reduce all things to acts, And knew their natures by abstracts ; Where entity and quiddity, 145 The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly ; Where truth in person does appear. Like words congeal'd in northern air. He knew whafs what, and that's as high As metaphysic wit can fly. L50 In school-divinity as able As he that hight Irrefragable ; A second Thomas, or, at once To name them all, another Dunce : H3. The old philosophers thought to extract notions out of natural thingSj as chymists do spirits and essences ; and, when they hacl refined them into the nicest subtilties, g-ave them as insignificant names as those operators do their ex- tractions : But, (as Seneca says) the subtler things are ren dercd, they are but the nearer to nothine-. So are all their definition of things by acts the nearer to nonsense. 147. Some authors have mistaken truth for a real thingr, when it is nothing but a right method of putting those no tions or images of things (in the understanding of man) into the same state and order that their originals hold in nature ; and therefore Aristotle says, 'Unumquodque sicut se habet secundum esse, ita se habet secundum veritatem.' Met 148. Some report, that in Nova Zembla and Greenland, metn's words are wont to be frozen in the air, and at the thaw may be heard. 151. Here again is another alteration of three or four lines, as I think, for the worse. Some specific epithets were added to the title of some fa mous doctors, as Angelicus, Irrefragabilis, Subtilis, &c. Vide Vossi Etymolog. Baillet Jugemens de Sqavans, and I'ossevin's Apparatus. 153. Tiiomas Aquinas, a Dominican friar, was born in 122 J, and studied at Cologne and Paris. He new-modelled the school divinity, and was therefore called the Angelic Doctor, and Eagle of Divines. The most illustrious persons of his time were ambitious of his friendship, and put a high value on his merits, so that they offered him bishoprics, which he refused with as much ardour as others seejj after them. He died in the fiftieth year of his age, and was ganonized by Pope John XII. V/e have his works in eighteen volumes, several •tinifs printed. ,Ioliai)!)ii3 Dunscotaj v>Tir, a very leprncd man, who- lived PART I.— CANTO I. 13 Profound in all the nominal 155 And real ways beyond thorn all ; 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 ; 160 Such as take lod<^ings in a head That's to be l^t unfurnished. He could raise scruples dark and nice, And after solve 'cm in a trice ; As if Divinity had catch'd 1G5 The itch on purpose to be scratched ; Or, like a mountebank, did wound And stab herself with doubts profound, . Only to shew with how small pain The sores of faith are curM again ; 170 about the end of the thirteenth and be^inninff of tlie fourteenth century. The English and Scotch strive which of them shall have the honour of his birth. The English say he was born in Northumberland; the Scots allege ne was born at Duns, in the Mors, the neighbouring county to Northumberland, and lience was called Dunscbtus. Moreri, Buchanan, and other acotch historians, are of this opinion, and for proof cite his epitaph : Scotia me genuit, Anglia suscepit, Gallia edocuit, Germania tenet. He died at Cologne, November 3, 1303. In the supplement to Dr. Cave's Historia Literaria, he is said to be extraordi- lary learned in physics, metaphysics, mathematics, and as- tronomy ; that his fame was so great when at Oxford, that 30,000 scholars came thither to hear his lectures ; that when at Paris, his arguments and authority carried it for the im- maculate conception of the Blessed Virgin : so that they ap- pointed a festival on that account, and would admit no scho- lars to degrees but such as were of this mind. He was a great opposer of Thomas Aquinas's doctrine ; and, for being a very acute logician, was called Doctor Subtilis ; which was the reason also that an old punster always called him the Lathy Doctor. 158. Sorbon was the first and most considerable college of the university of Paris, founded in the reign of St. LeAvis, by Robert Sorbon, which name is sometimes given to the whole university of Paris, which was founded about the year 741 , by Charlemagne, at the persuasion of the learned Alcuinus, who was one of the first professors there ; since which time it has been very famous. This college has been rebuilt with an ex- traordinary magnificence, at the charge of Cardinal Riche- lieu, and contains lodgings for thirty-six doctors, who are calktl the Socii'ty of Sorbon. Those which are received amoni>- them before they have received their doctor's dc|;ree, are only said to oeofthe hospitality of Sorbon. Claud. Hemfr ' au3 de Acad f'arij. Spondaa, in AuUid. 14 HUDIBRAS. Altho' by woful proof we find They always leave a scar behind. He knew the seat of Paradise, Could tell in what degree it lies ; And, as he was dispos'd, could prove it 175 Below the moon, or else above it : What Adam dreamt of, when his bride Came from her closet in his side : Whether the devil tempted her By a High-Dutch interpreter : 180 If either of them had a navel : Who first made music malleable : Whether the serpent, at the fall, Had cloven feet or none at all. All this without a gloss or comment, 185 He could unriddle in a moment. In proper terms, such as men smatter, When they throw out, and miss the matter. For his religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit : 190 'Twas Presbyterian true blue ; For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints whom all men grant To be the true church militant ; Such as do build their faith upon 195 The holy text of pike and gun ; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery ; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks : 200 Call fire, and sword, and desolation, A godly thorough reformation, 173. There is nothing more ridiculous than the varioua opinions of aiiiliors about the seat of Paradise. Sir Wal- ter Raleigh has taken a great deal of pains to collect them, in the beginning of his History of the World , where those who are unsatisfied may be fully informed. 180. Goropius Becanus endeavours to prove, that lligli Dutch was the language that Adam and Eve spoke in Paradise. 181. Adam and Eve being made, and not conceived and formed in the womb, had no navels, as some learned men have supposed, because they had no need- of them. 182. Music IS said to be invcitted by Pythagoras, who &rst found out the proportion of notes from the soundj of hammers upon an anvil. PART I.— CANTO I. 15 Which alwa3^s must be carry'd on„ And still be doing, never done : As if religion were intended 205 For nothing else but to be mended. A sect whose chief devotion hes In odd perverse antipathies ; In falling out with that or this, And finding «omewhat still amiss : 210 More peevish, cross, and splenetick, Than dog distract, or monkey sick ; That with more care keep holy-day The wrong, tiian others the right way : Compound for sins they are inclined to, 215 By damning those they have no mind to : Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshipped God for spite. The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. 220 Free-will they one way disavow ; Another, nothing else allow. All piety consists therein In them, in otler men all sin. Rather than fail, thoy will decry 225 That which they love most tenderly ; Quarrel with mincVi pics, and disparage Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge . Fat pig and goose itself oppose. And blaspheme custard thro' the nose. 230 Th' apostles of this fierce religion. Like Mahomet's, were ass and widgeon ; To whom our Knight, by fast instinct Of wit and temper, was so linkt, As if hypocrisy and nonsense 235 Had got th' advowson of his conscience. Thus was iie gifted and accouter'd. We mean on th' inside not the outward ; That next of all we shall discuss : Then listen. Sirs, it follows thus : 240 232. Mahomet had a tame dove that used to pick seeds out of his ear, that it might be thought to whisper and inspire him. His ass was so intimate with him, that the Mahometans believed it carried him to heaven, and stays there wiih Jiini to bring him back again. 16 HUDIBRAS. His tawny beard was th' equal grace- Both of his wifidorn and his face; In cut and dyo so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile : The upper part thereof was whey ; 245 The nether, orange ni?x"d with ijray. This hairy meteor did denounce The fall of sceptres and of crowns ; With grisly type did represent Declining age of government ; 250 And tell with hieroglyphick spade, Its own grave and the state's were made. Like Samson's heart-breakers, it grew In time to make a nation rue ; Tho' it contributed its own fail, 255 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 Cordelier. _ 2G0 'Twas bound to suffer persecution And martyrdom with resolution; T' oppose itself against the hate And vengeance of th' incensed state ; In whose defiance it was worn, 265 Still ready to be pulfd and torn ; With red-hot irons to be tortur'd ; ReviFd, and spit upon, and martyr'd. Maugre all which, 'tv/as to stand fast, As long as monarchy should last ; 270 But when the state should hap to reel, 'Twas to submit to fatal steel, And fall, as it v^as consecrate, A sacrifice to fall of state ; Whose thread of life the fatal sisters 275 Did twist together with its whiskers, And twine so close, that Time should never, In life or death, their fortunes sever : But with his rusty sickle mow Both down together at a blow. 260 257- lie mad') a vow no.vi'V to cut Iiis hoard until iln; rarliameiit had siibduod tho kinj; . of which oidcr ;m' «-aii!itic votanc;? Oif.vc wi'Tc; niaiiv in Ihoj^c fitnfs PART I.— CANTO I. 17 So leani'd Taliacotius from The brawny pari of porter's bum Cut suppletaeatal noses, which Would last as long as parent breech ; 285 But when the dale of nock was out, Off dropp'd the sympathetic snout. His back^ or rather burthen, shew'd As if it stoop'd with its own load : For as ^Eneas bore his sire Upon his shoulders thro' the fire, 290 Our Knight did bear no less a pack Of his own buttocks on his back ; Which now had almost got the upper- Hand of his head, for want of crupper. To poise this equally, he bore 295 A paunch of the same bulk before ; Which still he had a special care To keep well cramm'd with thrifty fare ; As white-pot, butter-milk, and curds, Such as a country-house affords ; 300 With other vittle, which anon We farther shall dilate upon, 281. Taliacotius was an Italian surgeon, that found out a way to repair lost and decayed noses. This Taliacotius was chiet surgeon to the great duke of Tuscany, and wrote a treatise, De Curtis Membris, which he dedicates to his great master; wherein he not oidy declares the models of his wonderful operations in restoring of lost members, but gives you cuts of the very instruments and ligatures ho made use of therein ; from hence our author (cum poetica licentia) has taken his simile. 289. iEneaswas the son of Anchises and Venus; a Trojan, who after long travels, came to Italy, and after the death of his father-in-law, Latinus, was made king of Latium, and reigned three years. His story is too long to insert here, and therefore I refer you to Virgil's yKneids. Troy being laid in ashes, he took his aged fa- ther Anchises upon his back, and rescued him from his enemies. But being too solicitous for his son and house- hold gods, he lost his wife Creusa ; which Mr. Dryden, in his excellent translation, thus expresseth : liaste, my dear father ('tis no time to wait,) And load my shoulders with a willing freight. Whate'er befals, your life shall be my care; One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share. My hand shall lead our little son ; and you, My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. 18 IhJDmiiAa When of his hose wo come to treat, Tlie cupboard where he kept his meat. His doublet was of sturdy buff, 305 And tliough not sword, yet cudgel proof; Whereby 'twas fitter for his use, Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise. His breeches were of rugged woollen, And had been at the siege of Bulien ; 31G To old king Harry so well known, Some writers held they were his own. Thro' they were lin'd with many a piece Of ammunition bread and cheese. And fat black-puddings, proper food 315 For warriors that delight in blood. For, as we said, he always ch.ose To carry vittle in his hose, That often tempted rats and mice The ammunition to surprise : 320' And when he put a hand but in The one or t' other magazine. They stoutly in defence on't stood, And from the wounded foe drew blood ; And till th' were storm'd and beaten out, 325 Ne'er left thef fortify'd redoubt. And tho' knights-errant, as some think, Of old did neither eat nor drink, Because, when thorough deserts vast, And regions desolate, they past, 330 Where belly-timber above ground, Or under, was not to be found. Unless they graz'd, there's not one word Of their provision on record ; Which made some confidently write, 335 They had no stomachs, but to fight. 'Tis false ; for Arthur wore in hall Round table like a farthingal. On which, with shirt pull'd out behind. And eke before, his good knights din'd. 340 337. Who this Arthur was, and whether any ever reigned in Britain, has been doul)ted heretofore,- and ia by some to this very day. However, the history of him, which makes hiiri one of the nine worthies of the world, is a subject sufficioiit for the poet to bo pleasant upon. PART 1.— CANTO 1. 19 Though 'twas no table, some suppose. Cut a huge pair of round trunk hose ; In which he carry'd as inucli meat As he and ali tlio knights could eat, 344 When, laying by their swords and truncheons, They took their breakfasts, or their auucheons. But let thaf pass at present, lest We should forget where we digrest. As learned authors use, to whom We leave it, and to th' purpose come. 350 His puissant sword unto his side, Near his undaunted heart, was ty'd ; With basket-hilt, that would hold broth, And serve for fight and dinner both. In it he melted lead for bullets, 355 To shoot at foes, and sometimes pullets, To whom he bore so fell a grutch, He ne'er gave quarter t' any such. The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty. For want of fighting, was grown rusty, 36U And ate into itself, for lack Of somebody to hew and hack. The peaceful scabbard where it dwelt The rancour of its edge had felt ; For of the lower end two handful 365 It had devoured, 'twas so manful ; And so much scorn'd to lurk in case, As if it durst not shew its face. In many desperate attempts, Of warrants, exigents, contempts, 370 It had appear'd with courage bolder Than Serjeant Bum invading shoulder. Oft had it ta'sn possession. And prisoners too, or made them run. Xliis sv/ord a dagger had t' his page, 375 That was but little for his age ; And therefore waited on him so, As dwarfs upon knights-errant do. 359. The capital city of New Castile, in Spain, with an archbishopric and primacy. It was very famous, amongst otlier things, for tempering the best metal for swords, as Damascus was, and perhaps may be still. 30 tlUDIBRAS. It was a snrvicpahle dudgeon, Either for fighlina" or for drudging. 380 When it had stabb'd, or broke a head, it would scrape trcncliers, or chip bread ; Toast cheese or bacon ; tho' it were To bait a mouse-trap, 'twould not care. 'Twould make clean shoes ; and in tlie earth 385 Set leoks and onions, and so forth, [t had been 'prentice to a brewer. Where this and more it did endure; But left the trade, as many more, Have lately done on the same score. 390^ In th' holsters, at his saddle-bow, Two aged pistols he did stow. Among the surplus of such meat As in his hose he could not get. These would inveigle rats with th' scent, 395> To forage when the cocks were bent : And sometimes catch 'em with a snap As cleverly as th' ablest trap. They were upon hard duty still, And ev'ry night stood sentinel, 400^ To guard the magazine i' the hose From two-legg'd and from four-legg'd foes. Thus clad and fortify'd. Sir Knight From peaceful home set forth to fight. But first with nimble, active force 405 He got on th' outside of his horse ; For having but one stirrup ty'd T"" his saddle, on the farther side, It was so short h' had much ado To reach it with his desp'rate toe : 410 But after many strains and heaves. He got up to the saddle-eaves. From whence he vaulted into th' seat, With so much vigour, strength, and heat, That he had almost tumbled over 415 With his own weight, but did recover, By laying hold on tail and mane, Which oft he us'd instead of rein. 380. Oliver Cromwell and Colonel Pride had been, both brewcK. PART 1.— CANTO I. 21 But now we talk of mountain s;lccd, Beforo wo farther do proceed, 490 It dolh behove us to say something Of that which bore our valiant bumpkin. The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, With mouth of meal, and eyes of v/all. I would s;iy eye ; lor h' had but one, 425 As most af ree ; tho' some say none. He was well stay'd ; and in his gait Preserved a grave majestic state. At spur or switch no more he skept. Or mended pace than Spaniard whipt ; 430 And yet so fiery he v/ou!d bound As if he griev'd to touch the ground : That Caesar's horse, who as fame goes Had corns upon his feet and toes, Was not by hah^so tender hooft, 435 Nor trod upon the ground so soft. And as that beast would kneel and stoop (Some write) to take his rider up. So Hudibras his ('tis well known) Would often do to set him down. 440 We shall not need to say v/hat lack Of leather was upon his back ; For that was hidden under pad, And breech of Knight, galPd full as bad. His strutting ribs ou both sides shew'd 445 Like furroucrhs lie himself had plow'd ; For underneath the skirt of pannel, 'Twixt ev'ry tv/o there was a channeL His draggling tail hung in the dirt, Which on his rider he would flirt, 450 Still as his tender side he prick'd^ With arm'd heol, or with unarm'd, kick'd; For Hudibras v^ore but one spur ; As wisely knowing, could he stir To active trot one side of 's horse, 455 Tiie otlier would not hang an arse. A squire he had, vv^hose name was Ralph, That in th' adventure went his half: 433. Julius Cffisar had a horse with feet like a man's, ' Utebatur equo insigni ; pedibus propc humanis, et in mofhitn digitorum urigulis (issis. Snof. in JmI cnr> fl. 22 HUDIBRAS. Though writers, for more stately tune, Do call him Ralplio ; 'tis all one ; 460 And when wc can with metro safe, Well call him so ; if not, plain Ralph. ^For rhyme the rudder is of verses, With which like siiips they steer their courses.^ An equal stock of wit and valour 465 lie had laid in ; by birth a tailor. The mighty Tyrian queen that gain'd ^Vith subtle shreds a tract of land, i3id leave it with a castle fair To his great ancestor, her heir. 470 From him descended cross-legg''d knights, Fam'd for their faith, and warlike fights Against the bloody cannibal. Whom they destroyed both great and small. This sturdy Squire he had, as well 475 As the bold Trojan knight, seen Hell ; Not with a counterfeited pass Of golden bough, but true gold-lace. His knowledge was not far behind The Knights, but of another kind, 480 And he another way came by't : Some call it Gifts, and some Nev/ -Light ; A liberal art that costs no pains Of study, industry, or brains. His wit was sent him for a token, 485 But in the carriage crack'd and broken. Like commendation nine-pence crookM, With — To and from my love — It lookM. He ne'er consider'd it, as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth ; 49C And very wisely would lay forth No more upon it than 'twas worth. But as he got it freely, so He spent it frank and freely too. 467. Dido, queen of Carthage, who boiijiht as much land as she could compass with an ox's hide, which she cut into small thongs, and cheated the owner of so much ground as served her to huild Canhage upon. 476. ^iieas, whom Virgii reports to use a golden bough for a puss to Iiell ; and tailors eall that place heU where they piu ai: they steal. PART I.— CANTO I. 23 For saints themselves will sometimes be, 495 X>f gifts that cost them nothing, free. By means of this, with hem and cough, Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff. He could deep mysteries unriddle As easily as thread a needle. 500 For as of vagabonds we say, That they are ne'er beside the way ; Whate'er men speak by this New Light, Still they are sure to be i' th' right. 'Tis a dark-lantern of the spirit, 505 Which none see by but those that bear it : A light that falls down from on high. For spiritual trades to cozen by : An ignis fatuus, that bewitches And leads men into pools and ditches, 510 To make them dip themselves, and sound For Christendom in dirty pond ; To dive like wild-fowl for salvation, And fish to catch regeneration. This light inspires and plays upon 515 The nose of saint like bag-pipe drone, And speaks through hollow empty soul. As through a trunk or whisp'ring hole. Such language as no mortal ear But spiritual eaves-droppers can hear : 520 So PhoBbus, or some friendly muse. Into small poets' song infuse, Which they at second-hand rehearse, Thro' reed or bag-pipe, verse for verse. Thus Ralph became infallible 525 As three or four-legg'd oracle, The ancient cup, or modern chair ; Spoke truth point-blank, tho' unaware. For mystic learning, wondrous able In magic Tahsman and Cabal, 530 526. Read the great Geographical Dictionary under that word. 530. Talisman is a device to deslroy any sort of ver- min, by casting their iniatces in metal, in a jtrecise mi- nute, when ihe stars arp perfectly inclined to do them all the mischief tlicy can This has been experienced by some modern virtuosi upon rats, mice, and fleas, and found (as they aflirm) to produce the effect with admi- rable success. Uaymond Lully inh;ruvetH cabal, em of t!ie Arabic, VO 2i HUDIBRAS. Whose primitive tradition reaches As far as Adam's first green breeches r , • eep sigfited in intelligences, deas, atoms, influences ; And much of terra incognita, 535 Th' intelligible world, could say : A deep occult Philosopher, As learnM as the wild Irish are, Or Sir Agrippa ; for profound And solid lying much renown'd. 540 fie 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, 545 As he that Vere 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 : 550 signify Scientia superabundans ; which his commenta- tator, Cornelius Agrippa, by over magnifying, has ren- dered a very superfluous foppery. 532. The author of Magia Ademica endeavours to prove the learning of the ancient Magi to be derived from that knowledge which God himself taught Adam in Paradise before the fall. 535. The intelligible world is a kind of Terra del Fucgo, or Psittacoruni Uegio, &c. discovered only by the philosophers, of which they talk Uke parrots, what Uicy do not understand. 538. No nation in the world \b more addicted to this occult philosophy than llie wild Irish are, as appears by the whole practice of their lives ; of which see Camden in his description of Ireland. 539. They who would know more of Sir Cornelius Agrippa, here meant, may consult the Great Dictionary. 541. Anthroposophus is only a compound Greek word, which signifies a man that is wise in the knowledge of men, as is used by some anonymous author to conceal his true name Dr. Floud was a sort of an English Rosy-crucian, whose works are e.-itant, and as intelligible as those of Jacob Kehmen. 545. The frati;rnitv of the Roay-crucians is very like tile sect of the ancient Gnostici, who called themselves Ml from the (ixcolleot learning they pretended to, al Uiough they were the utot-t ridiculous sots of mankind. Vere adeptus is one that has commenced in «Ueir fa- «.itic e,ttravagai!ce- What mernher 'tii-i of wiioiii llioy talk, When they cry Rope, and Walk, knave, wulic. f le'd extract numbers out of matter, And keep them in a glass, like water ; Of sovereign powV to make men wise ; 555 For dropped in blear thick-sighted eyes, They'd make them see in darkest night, Like owls, tho%purblind in the light. By help of tliese (as ho profess'd) He had First Matter seen undress'd : 5b(J lie took her naked all alone, Before one rag of form was on. The Chaos too he had descry'd, And seen quite thro', or else he ly^d : Not that of pasteboard wliich men show 5G5 For groats, at fair of Barthoi'mev/ ; But its great grandsirc, first o' th' name, Whence that and Reformation came ; f3oth cousin-germans, and right able T' inveigle and drav/ in the rabble. ;>70 But Reformation was, some say, ()' til' younger house to Puppet-play. ilo could foretel whats'ever was By consequence to come to pass ; As death of oTcat men, alterations, 6V5 Diseases, battles, inundations. All this, withoTit th' eclipse o' th' sun, Or dreadful comet, ho hath done, iiy inward light ; a way as good. And easy to be understood ; 6t)U But with more lucky hit than those Tiiat use to make the stars depose, Like knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon thcinselves what others forge : Ai3 if they were consenting to 58a All mischief in the world men do: Or like the devil did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em. They'll search a planet's house to know Who broke and robb'd a house below ■ 590 Mxaiaiiu; Venus, and tiie Moon, VVhu liole a thimble ui a i.j.uoi; , C G HUDIBRAS. And tho' they nntliing- will confess. Yet by their very looks can guess, And tell what guilty aspect bodes, 595 Who stole, and who receiy'd the goods. They'll question Mars, and by his look. Detect who 'twas that nimm'd a clokc ; Make Mercury confess, and 'peach Those thieves which he himself did teach. 600 They'll find i' th' physiognomies O' th' planets, all men's destinies ; Like him that took the doctor's bill, And swallow'd it instead o' th' pill : Cast the nativity o' th' question, 605 And from positions to be guess'd on, As sure as if they knew the moment Of native's birth tell what will come on't. They'll feel the pulses of the stars, To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs ; 610 And tell what crisis does divine The rot in sheep, or mange in swine : In men, what gives or cures tho itch ; What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich ; What gains or loses, hangs or saves ; 615 What makes men great, what fools or knaves, But not wliat wise ; for only of those The stars (they say) cannot dispose, No more tiian can the astrologians ; There they say right, and like true Trojans. 620 This Ralpho knew, and therefore took The other coarse, 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, 625 Or Knight with Squire, e'er jump more right. Their arms and equipage did fit, As well as virtues, parts, and wit. Their valours too were of a rate ; And out they sally'd at tiie gate. - SS""' Few miles on horseback liad they jogged. But Fortune unto t!iem tuni'd dogged ; Fcr tlioy a sad adventure met, O^vv'jich anon we mean to treat; PART L— CANTO L 2; But ero we venture to unfold (J3i Achievements so rosolv'd and bold, We should, as learned poets use, Invoke the assistance of some muses However, critics count it sillier Than jugcrlers talking to familiar. (J40 We think 'tis no liroat matter which ; They're all ahkc ; yet wo shall pitch On one that fits our purpose most, Whom therefore thus do we accost : Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, 645 Didst inspire Withers, Pryn, and Vickars, And force them, tho' it was in spite Of nature and their stars, to write; Who. as we find in sullen writs, And cross-grain'd works of modern wits, 650 With vanity, opinion, want, The wonder of the ignorant, The praises of the author, penn'd B' himself, or wit-ensuring' friend ; The itch of picture in the front, 655 With bays and wicked rhyme upon't ; All that is left o' th' forked hill, To make men scribble without skill ; Canst make a poet spite of fate, And teach all people to translate, 660 Tho' out of languages in which They understand no part of speech ; Assist me but this once, I 'raplore, And I shall trouble thee no more. In western clime there is a town, 665 To those that dwell therein well known ; Therefore there needs no more be said hero ; We unto them refer our reader ; For brevity is very good. When w' are, or are not, understood. 67(1 To this town people did repair, On days of market, or of fair, 046. This Vickars vvas a man of as great interest ard autliority in the late Reformation as Pryn or Wiineis^ and as rdile a poet. He translated Virgil's it^neids intc; as hnrrih'e travesty in earnest, as the French Scaroorv did in burlesque, and '.vas only outdone in his way hy the politic author of Oceana '2t' HUDIBRAS. And to crack'd fiddlo, and horse tabor, In merriment did dnidgo and labour. But now a sport more formidable 675 Had rak'd to,f!fctiicr village rabble ; 'Twas an old v/ay of recreating, Which learned butchers call bear-baiting : A bold adveufrous exercise, Witii ancient heroes in high prize : 680 For authors do affirm it came From Islhmean or Nemean game : Others derive it from the bear That's fixM in northern hemisphere, And round about the pole does make 685 A circle like a bear at stake, That at the chain's end wheels about, And overturns the rabble-rout. For after solemn proclamation. In the bear's name (as is the fashion, 690 According to the law of arms. To keep men from inglorious harms,) That none presume to come so near As forty foot of stake of bear, If any yet be so fool-hardy, 695 T' expose themselves to vain jeopardy If they come wounded off, and lame. No honour's got by such a maim ; Altho' the bear gain much, b'ing bound In honour to make good his ground, 700 When he's engag'd, and takes no notice, If any press upon hira, who 'tis ; But lets them know, at their own cost, That he intends to keep his post. This to prevent, and other harms, 705 Which always wait on feats of arms (For in the hurry of a fray "Tis hard to keep out of harms way,) Thither tlsc Knight his course did steer, To keep the peace 'twixt dog and bear ; 710 As he bclicv'd lie was bound to do in conscience, and commission too ; PART I.^CANTO i. m And tli«fefbre thus bespoke the Squire : We tliat are wisely mounted higher Tlian constables in curule wit, 715 When on tribunal bench we sit, Like speculators should foresee, From Pharos ^f authority, Portended mischiefs -farther than Low Proletarian tything-men : 720- And therefore being inform 'd by bruit, That dog and bear are to dispute ; For so of late men fighting name, Because they often prove the same (For where the iirst does hap to be, 725 The last does coincidere ;) Quantum in nobis, have thought good. To save th' expense of Christian blood. And try if we by mediation Of treaty and accommodation, 730 Can end the quarrel, and compose The bloody duel without blows. Are not our liberties, our lives. The laws, religion, and our wives, Enough at once to lie at stake 735 For Covenant and the Cause's sake :" But in that quarrel dogs and bears, As well as we, must venture theirs ^ This feud, by Jesuits invented. By evil counsel is fomented ; 740 Their is a Machiavelian plot (Tlio' every nare olfact it not,) A deep design in't, to divide ^ The well-affected that confide. By setting brother against brother, 745 To claw and curry one another. Have we not enemies, plus satis. That, cane et angue pejus, hate us? 740. This speecli is set down as it was delivered by ttie Knight, in his own words ; but since it is below the gravity of hernical poetry to admit of humour, but ail men are obliged to speak wisely alike, and too much of so extravagimt a folly would become tedious and im- pertinent, the rest of his harangues liave only his sense expressed in other words, unless in sonie i'ew placer> where his own ^.vords could not be so well avoided. 30 HUDIBRAS. And shall wo turn our fangs and claws Upon our owii s(i!vcs, without cause ? 750 That Romo orcult design doth lie Jn bloody cynarctomachy, Is plain enough to him that knows How saints lead brothers by the nose. I wish myself a ])seudo-propliet, 755 But sure some mischief will come of it ; Urdcss by providential wit, Or force, wo averruncate it. For what design, what interest, Can beast have to encounter beast .'' 760 They fight for no espoused cause, Frail privilege, fundamental laws, Nor for a thorough reformation, For covenant, nor protestation, Nor liberty of consciences, 765 Nor Lords and Commons' ordinances ; Nor for the church, nor for church-lands, To get them in their own no-hands ; Nor evil counsellors to bring To justice that seduce the king ; 770 Nor" for the worship of us men, Though we have done as much for them. Th' Egyptians worshipped dogs, and for Their faith made internecine war. Others ador'd a rat, and some 775 For that church sufFer'd martyrdom. The Indians fought for the truth Of th' elephant and monkey's tooth, 752. Cynarctomachy signifies nothing in the world 1)11 1 a figlit between dogs and bears ; though both the l(;arned and ignorant agree that in such words very great knowledge is contained : and our Knight, as one, or both of those, was of the same opinion. 758. Another of the same kmd, which, though it ap- pear ever so learned and profound, means nothing else but the weeding of corn. 778. The History of the White Elephant and the Monkey's Toolli, whicli the Indians adored, is written oy Mons. Ic Blanc. This monkey's tooth was taken by the Portuguese from those that worshipped it; and though they offered a vast ransom for it, yet the Chris- tians were persuaded by their priests rather to burn it. But as soon as the fire was kindled, all the jjcople present wore not able to endure the horrible stink that came from a ;is !f the iirc had becii made «f 'I'c sanit; iiigredient.9 PART I.-^CANTO I. 31 .liiii many, to defend that faith, Fought it out, mordicus, to death. # 780 But no beast ever was so shght. For man, as for his God, to fight. They have more wit, alas ! and luiow Themselves-and us better than so. But we, who only do infuse 7S5 The rage in them hke Eoute-feas ; 'Tis our example that instils In them th' infection of our ills. For, as some late philosopliers Have well observed, beasts that converse 790 With man take after him, as hogs Get pigs all th' year, and bitches dogs. Just so, by our example cattle Learn to give one another battle. We read in Nero's time the heathen, 795 When they destroy'd the Christian brethren, Did sew them in the skins of bears, And then set dogs about their ears : From thence, no doubt, th' invention came Of this lewd antichristian game. 800 To this, quoth Ralpho, Verily The point seems very plain to me. It is an antichristian game. Unlawful both in thing and name. First, for the name : the word bear-baiting 805 Is carnal, and of man's creating : For certainly there's no such word In all the Scripture on record ; Therefore unlav.'ful, and a sin : And so is (secondly) the thing. 810 A vile assembly 'tis, that can No more be provM by Scripture than Provincial, classic, national ; Mere human creature-cobwebs all. Thirdly, it is idolatrous ; 815 For when men run a whoring thus with which seamen use to compose that kind of grana- dos which they call stinkards. 786. Boute-feus is a French word, and therefore it were uncivil to suppose any English person (especially of quality) ignorant of it, or so ill-bred as to need an ex- position. 32 HUDIBRAS. Willi Uieir invonUons, whatsoe''er The tkinfT be, wiioUier doir or bear, It is idolatrous and pagan, No less than worshippiiiii- of Dagon. S20' Quoth Fludibras, t smell a rat : Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate ; For though the thesis vvhicli thou lay''st Bo true ad amussim, as thou say'st (For that bear-bating should appear 8^3 Jure divino lawfuller Than synods arc, thou dost deny, Totidem verbis; so do I;) Yet there's a fallacy in this ; For if by sly homceosis, 830' Tussis pro crepitu, an art Under a cough to slur a f — t, Thou wouldst sophistically imply Both are unlawful, I deny. And I (quoth Ralpho) do not doubt 835 But bear-baiting may be made out. In gospel-times, as lav/ful as is Provincial or parochial classis ; And that both are so near of kin, And hke in all, as well as sin, 840 That put them in a bag and shake 'em, Yourself o' th' sudden would mistake 'em, And not know which is which, unless You measure by their wickedness : For 'tis not hard t' imagine whether 845 O' th' two is worst ; tho' I name neither. Quoth Hudibras, Thou offer 'st much. But art not able to keep touch, Mira de lente, as 'tis i' th' adage, f d est to make a leek a cabbage ; 850 Thou wilt at best but suck a bull, Or shear swine, all cry and no wool ; For what can synods have at all With bear that's analogical ? Or what relation has debating - 855 Of church-affairs with bear-baiting ? A just comparison still is Qf things ejusdem generis; PART I —CANTO I. 33 And then what genius rightly doth Inchidc and comprehend them both ? 860 If animal, both of us may As justly pass for bears as they ; For wo arc animals no less, Altlio' of different specieses. But, Ralpho, tiiis is no fit place 865 Nor time to argue out the case : For now the field is not far off, Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words, and such as suit Another manner of dispute ; 870 A controversy that affords Actions for arguments, not words ; Which we must manage at a rate Of prowess and conduct adequate To what our place and fame doth promise, 875 And all the godly expect from us. Nor shall they be deceiv'd, unless We ""re slurr'd and outcd by success ; Success, the mark no mortal wit. Or surest hand, can always hit : 880 For whatsoo'er v/e perpetrate. We do but row, we're steer'd by Fate, Which in success oft disinherits, For spurious causes, noblest merits. Great actions are not always true sons 885 Of great and mighty resolutions ; Nor do the bold'st attempts bring forth Events still equal to their worth ; But sometimes fail, and in their stead Fortune and cowardice succeed. 890 Yet we have no great cause to doubt ; Our actions still have borne us out ; Wliich, tho' they're known to be so ample, We need not copy from example. We're not the only persons durst 895 Attempt tliis province, nor the first. In northern clime a valrous knight Did whilom kill his bear in fight. And wound a fiddler ; we have both Of these the objects of our wroth, 900 € 2 34 HUDiBRAS. And equal fame and glory from Th' attempt or victory to come. 'Tis sung, there is a valiant Mamaluke In foreign land, yclep'd To whom we have been oft compar'd 905 For person, parts, address, and beard ; 3Jotli cquiiJly reputed stout, /\!i;! ill (he same cause boLJi have fought; lie oft in sucli attempts as these C'ame off with glory and success; 910 Nor will we fail in th' execution, For want of equal resolution. Honour is like a widow, won With brisk attempt and putting on ; Witli enfring manfully, and urging; 915 Not slow approaches, like a virgin. 'Tis said, as erst the Phrygian knight, So ours with rusty steel did smite 903. Main!\luke is the name of the militia of the sul- tans of Egypt. It signified a sarvant or soldier. They were coininoiily captives talien from among the Christ- ians, and instructed in mihtary disciphne, and did not marry. Tlieir power was great; for besides tliat the siiUans was cliosen out of their body, tliey disposed of the most imporlant offices of the kingdom. They were formidable about two hundred years ; till at last Selim, sultan of the Turks, routed them, and killed their sultan near Aleppo, 1516, and so put an end to the empire of Mamalukes, which had lasted 2(>7 years. No question but the rhyme to Mamaluke was meant Sir Samuel Luke, of whom in the preface. 913. Our English proverbs are not impertinent to tliis purpose : Ho that woos a maid must seldom come in her sight . But he iliat wous a widow, must woo her day and night, lie that woos a maul, must feign, lie, and flatter ; Bui hi! that woos a widow, must down with his breeches and at her. This proverb being somewhat immodest, Mr. Ray says he would not have it inserted in his collection, but that he met with it in a liule book, entitled the Quakers' Spi- iit\ial Court proclaimed; written by Namaniel Smith, student in Physic ; wherein the author mentions it as counsel given him by Hilkiah Bedford, an eminent Qua- ker in London, who would have had him to have mar- ried a rich widow, in whose house he lodged- In case he could get her, this Nathaniel Smith had promised [lilkiah a chamber gratis. The whole narrative is wtHih lilt; rcndnig. PART I.— CANTO II. 35 His Trojan horse, and just as mucli He mended pace upon the loucii ; 920 But from his empty stomach groaned Just as that hollow beast did sound, And angry answered from behind, With brandish'd tail and blast of wind. So have I seen with armed lieel, 925 A wight bestride a common-weal ; While still the more he kickVl and spurr-d The less the sullen jade had stirr'd. CANTO 11. The catalogue and character Of tl)' enemies' best men of war ; Whom, in a bold harangue, the Knight Defies, and challenges to fight. H' encounters Talgo), routs the Bear, And takes the Fiddler prisoner, Conveys hiin to enchanted castle ; There shuts hmi fast in wooden bastile. There was an ancient sage philosopher, That had read Alexander Ross over, And swore the world, as lie could prove. Was made of fighting and of love: Just so Romances arc, for what else S Is in them all, but love and battles? O' th' first of these we've no great matter To treat of, but a world o' th' latter ; In which to do the injured right We mean, in what concerns just fight. 10 Certes our aulliors are to blame, For to make some well-sounding name A pattern fit for modern knights To copy out in fray's and fights ; Tjike those that a whole street do raze , 15 To build a palace in the place. They never care how many others They kill, without regard ofmoUiers, Or wives, or children, so ihoy can IVIake up some fierce, dcad-duiri'- nian. 2S <'ompos'd of uKDiy ingredieiil. valours. Just like the manhood of nine tailors. 36 HUDlliKAb. So a wild Tartar, when lie spico A man that's handsome, valiant, wit,c, If he can kill him, thinks t' inherit ^^6 His wit, his beauty, and his spirit ; As if just so much lie enjoy'd As in another is desiroy'd. For when a giant'ii slain in fight, And mow'd o'erthwart, or cleft downright, 30 It is a heavy case no doubt, A man should have his brains beat out Because he's tall, and lias large bones , As men kill beavers for their stones. But as for our part, we shall tell 35 The naked truth of what befel; And as an equal friend to both The Knight and Bear, but more to trotii, With neither faction shall take part, But give to each his due desert ; 40 And never coin a formal lie on't, To make the Kniglit o''crcome the giant. This b''ing profest, we\e hopes enougli, And now"js/o on where we loft off. They rode ; but authors having not 4.' Determin'd wlietlicr pace or trot (That is to say, whether tullutatiou. As they do term 't, or succussation,) We leave it, and go on, as now Suppose tliey did, no matter how ; 50 Yet some from subtle hints have got Mysterious light, it was a trot : But let that pass : they now begun To spur tlieir living engines on. For as whippM tops, and bandy'd balL, bb The learned hold, are animals ; So horses they affirm to be Mere engines made by geometry ; And were invented first from engines. As Indian Britons were from Penguins. GO 47 Tulhuatitm and succvissalion are onlyLatiii word3 for ambling and tioUinj;, tliougli I believe both were natural amongst Ibc old Romans; since I never read they mside use ol' the iramuiol or any other ait, to i)ac>: Ihiir lioisps. ?)0- Thf; Aiucricau Iiidiau& cull a great bird they hav»: PART I.— CANTO II. 37 So let them be : and, as I was saying, They their live engines plyM, not staying Until they reach'd the fatal champaign, Which th' enemy did then encamp on ; The dire Pharsalian plain, where battle G5 Was to be wag'd 'twixt puissant cattle And fierce auxiliary men, That came to aid their brethren, Who now began to take the field. As Kniglit from ridge of steed beheld. 70 For as our modern wits behold, Mounted a pick-back on the old. Much farther off, much farther he, RaisM on his aged beast could see ; Yet not sufficient to descry 75 All postures of the enemy; Wherefore he bids the Squire ride farther, T' observe their numbers, and their order ; That when their motions he had known, ■He miglit know how to fit his own. 60 Meanwhile he stopp'd his willing steed, To fit himself for martial deed. Both kinds of metal he prepar'd, -Either to give blows or to ward : Courage and steel, both of great force, 85 Prepar'd for better or for v/orse. His death-charg'd pistols he did fit well, Drawn out from life-preserving vittle. These being prim'd, with force he labour'd To free 's sword from retentive scabbard ; 90 And, after many a painful pluck, From rusty durance he bail'd tuck. Then shook himself, to see that prowess In scabbard of his arms sat loose : And, raised upon his despVate foot, 95 On stirrup-side, he gaz'd about, with a white head, a penguin ; which signifies the same •thing in the British tongue : from whence (with otiier words of the same I For fame and honour, some for sight. And now the field of death, the lists, Were cnter'd by antagonists, PART I.— CANTO II. 49 And blood was ready to be broachM, When Hudibras in haste approached, 490 With Squire and weapons, to attack 'em ; But first thus from his horse bespake 'em : What rage, O citizens ! what fury Doth you to these dire actions hurry ? What oestrum,*what phrenetic mood, 495 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, 500 Which now y' are bent to throw away In vain, untriumphable fray ! Shall saints in civil bloodslied wallow Of saints, and let the Cause lie fallow ? The Cause for which we fought and swore 505 So boldly, shall we now give o'er ? Then, because quarrels still are seen With oaths and swearings to begin. The solemn League and Covenant Will seem a mere God-dam-me rant ; 510 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 tiling, Some will not stick to swear, we do 515 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. 520 Are these the fruits o' th' Protestation, The prototype of Reformation, Which all the saints, and some, since martyrs, Wore in their hats like wedding garters, 495. OEstrum is not only a Greek word for madness but signifies also a gad-bee or horse flyi that torments cattle i: the summer, and makes tliem run about as if they were mad- 524. Some few days after the king had accused the five members of neason in the House of Commons, great crowds of the rabble came down to Westmiiistn- hall witli printed copies of the Protestation tied in liieu hats like favours. 50 HUDIBRAS. When 'twas resolv'd by eitlier House 52^ 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 Join throats to cry the bishops down ? 530 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 bawFd aloud to settle 535 Church discipline, for patching kettle : No sow-gelder did blow his horn To geld a cat, but cry'd Reform. The oyster-women lock'd their fish up, And trudg'd away, to cry. No bishop. 540 The mousetrap-men laid save-alls by, And 'gainst evl counsellors did cry. Bothers left old clothes in the lurch. And fell to turn and patch the church. Some cry'd the Covenant instead 545 Of pudden-pies and ginger-bread ; And some for brooms, old boots and shoes, BawFd out to purge the Commons' House. Instead of kitchen-stuff, some cry, A gospel-preaching ministry ; 550 And some, for old suits, coats, or cloak. No surplices nor Service-book. A strange harmonious inclination Of all degrees to Reformation. And is this all ? Is this the end 555 To which these carr'ings on did tend? Hath public faith, like a young heir. For this ta'en up all sorts of ware, 525. The six members were the Lord Kimbolton, Mr. Pym, Mr. Hollis, Mr. Hampden, Sir Arthur Haslerig,^ ;.ind Mr. Stroud, vvhom the king ordered to be appre-' hended, and iheir papers seized ; charging them of plot- ting wltli tlie Scots, and favouring the iate tumults; but the House voved aga list the arrest of their .persons or papers ; whereupon the i To do we know not what, nor how f 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 ca3tcra.s : 650 Or the French league, in which men vowM To fight to the last drop of blood. These slanders will be thrown upon The cause and work we carry on. If we permit men to run headlong 65.5 T' exorbitances fit for bedlam, Rather than gospel-walking times, When slightest sins are greatest crimes. But we the matter so shall handle, As to remove that odious scandal, 660 In name of King and Parliament, I charge ye all no more foment This feud, but keep the peace between Your brethren and your countrymen ; And to those places straight repair 665 Where your respective dwellings are. But to that purpose first surrender The Fiddler, as the prime offender, The incendiary vile, that is chief Author and engineer of mischief; 670 649. The Convocation, in one of tho short Parlia- ments, that ushered in the lon'j, one (as dwarfs are wont to do knights-errant,) made an oath to be talten by the clergy for observing canonical obedience ; in which they enjoined their brethren, out of the abundance of their consciences, to swear articles with, &;c. 651. The holy lea^jue in France, designed and made for the extirpation of the Protestant religion, was the origi- nal, oat of which the solemn league and covenant here was(with thedifferenceonlyof circumstances) moatfaith- fuliy transcribed. Nor did the success of both differ more than the intent and purpose ; for after the destruction of vast numbers of people of all sorts, both ended with the murder oftvvokiiigs,whomtheyhad both sworn to defend: and as our covenanters swore every man to run one be- fore another.iu the way of reformation, so did theFrencI* in the holy league, to fight to the last drop of blood. 54 UUDTBRAS. That niniiOf! (livlRion holv/oon friends, Vor ]".vr>(hnp and niaHj^nanl. ends. Uv, ;■,::,! ilcit engine of vile noise, Oil \v!i! SI illegally he plaj's, Shall (dictum factum) both be brought G75 To condign punislimcnt, as they ought. This must be done ; and I would fain seo Mortal so sturdy as to gainsay : For then Pll take another course, And soon reduce you all by force. 680 This said, he clapp'd his hand on sword, To shew lie meant to keep his word. But Talgol, who had long supprest Inflamed wrath in glowing breast, Which now began to rage and burn as 685. Implacably as flame in furnace, Thus answcrM him : — Thou vermin wretched As e'er in measled pork was hatched ; Thou tail of w^orship, that dost grow On rump of justice as of cow; 69ft How dar'st thou, with that sullen luggage O' th'self, old ir'n, and other baggage, With which thy steed of bones and leather Has broke his wind in halting hither ; How durst th', I sa)^, adventure thus 695 T' oppose thy lumber against us ? Could thine impertinence find out No work t' employ itself about. Where tliou, secure from wooden blow, Thy busy vanity might'st shew .'' 70O Was no dispute a-foot between The caterwauling brethren ? No subtle question rais'd among Those out-o'-their wits, and those i' th' wrong? No prize between those combatants 705 O' th' times, the land and water saints ; Where thou might'st strickle without hazard Of outrage to thy hide and mazzard ; And not for want of bus'ness come To us to be so troublesome, 710t' To interrupt our better sort Of disputants, and spoil our sport .'' PART I.— CANTO II. 55 Was tli(3re no felony, no bawd, 'Cut-purse, no burglary abroad.'' No stolen pig, nor plundered goose, 715 To tie thee up from breaking loose? No ale unlicens''d, broken hedge, For which lh»u statute might'st allege. To keep thee busy from foul evil. And shame due to thee from the devil ? 720 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 holiness and zeal, 725 All parties, and the common weal ? Much better had it been for thee, IV had kept thee where th' art us'd to be ; Or sent th' on bus'ness any whither. So he had never brought thee hither. 730 -But if th' hast brain enough in skuli To keep itself in lodging whole, And not provoke the rage of stones And cudgels to thy hide and bones, Tremble, and vanish, while thou niay'st, 735 Which I'll not promise if thou stay'st. At this the Knight grew high in wroth, And lifting hands and eyes up both, Three times he smote on stomach stout. From v/hence at length these words broke out : Was I for this entitled Sir, 740 And girt with trusty sword and spur, For fame and honour to wage battle, Thus to be brav'd by foe to cattle ? Not all that pride that makes thee swell 745 As big thou dost blown-up veal; Nor all thy tricks and sleights to cheat, And sell thy carrion for good meat ; Not all thy magic to repair Decay'd old age in tough lean ware ; 750 Make nat'ral death appear thy work, And stop the gangrene in stale pork ; Not all that force that makes thee proud, Because by bullock ne'er withstood ; 56 HUDIBP.AS. Thoiigli arm'd witli all thy cleavers, knives, 755 And axes made to )iew down lives, Shall save or help thee to evade The hand of Justice, or his blade, Which I, her sword-bearer do carry, For civil deed and military. * 760 Nor shall those words of venom base, Which thon hast from their native place, Thy stomach pumjjM to fling on me, Go unreveno-'d, though I am free: Thou down the same throat shalt devour 'em. Like tainted beef, and pay dear for 'em. 765 Nor shall it e'er be said, that wight With gantlet blue, and bases white, And round blunt truncheon by his side, So great a man at arms defy'd 770 With words far bitter than wormwood, That would in Job or Grizel stir mood. Dogs with their tongues their wounds do heal ; But men with hands as thou shalt feel. This said, with hasty rage he snatch'd 775 His gun-shot, that in holsters watch'd ; And bending cock, he levelled full Against th' outside of Talgol's skull : Vowing that he should ne'er stir further, Nor henceforth cow nor bullock murther. 780 But Pallas came in shape of rust. And 'twixt the spring and hammer thrust Her Gorgon shield, which made the cock Stand stiff, as 'twere transform'd to stock. Meanwhile fierce Talgol, gathering might, 785 With rugged trunch;;on charg'd the Knight ; But he with petronel upheav'd. Instead of shield, the blow receiv'd. The gun recoiPd, as well it might, Not us'd to such a kind of fight, 790 And shrunk from its great master's gripe, Knock'd down and stunn'd by mortal stripe. Then Hudibras, with furious haste, Drew out his sword ; yet not so fast, But Talgol first, with hardy thwack, 795 Twice bruis'd his head, and twice his back. PART 1.— CANTO 11. 57 But when bis nat-brown sword was out. With stomach huge be laid about, Jmprintino- many a wound upon His mortal foe, the truncheon. 800 The trusty cudgel did oppose Itself against dead-doing blows, To guard its leader from fell bane, And then reveng'd itself again. And though the sword (some understood) 805 In force had much the odds of wood, 'Twas nothing so ; both sides were balanc'd So equal, none knew which was valiant'st : For wood with honour b'ing engaged. Is so implacably enraged, 810 Though iron hew and mangle sore. Wood wounds and bruises honour more. And now both knights were out of breath, Tir'd in the hot pursuit of devi.th ; While all the rest amaz'd stood still, 815 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 mto One body, and that into one blow. 820 But Talgol wisely avoided it By cunning sleight; for liad it hit. The upper part of him the blow Had slit as sure as that below. Meanwhile th' incomparable Colon, 895 To aid his friend, began to fall on. Him Ralph encountered, and straight grew A dismal combat 'twixt them two : Th' one arm'd with metal, th' other with wood ; This fit for bruise, and that for blood. 830 With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crab-tree and old iron rang ; While none that saw them could divine To which side conquest would incline, Until Magnano, who did envy 835 That two should with so many men vie. By subtle stratagem of brain, Perform'd what force could ne'er attain ; D2 58 HUDIBRAS. For he, by foul hap, having found Where. thistles grew on barren ground, 840 In haste he drew his weapon out, And having cropped them from the root, He clapp'd them underneath the tail Of steed, with pricks as sharp as nail. The angry beast did straight resent 845 The wrong done to his fundament ; Began to kick, and fling, and wince, As if h' had been beside his sense. Striving to disengage from thistle. That gaird him sorely under his tail : 850 Instead of which, he threw the pack Of Squire and baggage from his back; And blundering still with smarting rump. He gave the Knight's steed such a thump As made him reel. The Knight did stoop, 855 And sat on further side aslope. This Talgol viewing, who had now By sleight escapM the fatal blov/. He rally'd, and again fell to't ; For catching foe by nearer foot, 8G0 He lifted with such might and strength, As would have hurFd 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, 865 And under him the bear conveyed ; The bear, upon whose soft fur-gown The Knight with all his weight fell down. The friendly rug preserved the ground. And headlong Kniglit, from bruise or wound : Like feather-bed betwixt a wall 870 And heavy brunt of cannon-ball. As Sancho on a blanket fell. And had no hurt, ours far'd as well In body; though his mighty spirit, • 875 B'ing heavy, did not so well bear it. The bear was in a greater fright. Beat down and worsted by the Knight. He roarM, and rag'd, and flung about, To shake ofTbondap-e from his snout. 8?K) PART L— CANTO 11. 59 His wrath inflam'd boiFd o''er, and from His jaws of death he threw the foam : Fury in stranger postures threw liim, And more than herald ever drew him. He tore the earth which he had sav'd 8S5 From squelch of Knight, and stormed and rav'd, And vex'd the more because the liarms He felt were 'gainst the law of arms : For men he always took to be His friends, and dogs the enemy ; 890 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, 895 Should offer such inhuman wrong ; Wrong of unsoldier-like condition : For which he flung down his commission ; And laid about him, till his nose From thrall of ring and cord broke loose. 900 Soon as he felt himself enlarged, Through thickest of his foes he chargM, And made way through th' amazed crew ; Some he overran, and some overthrew. But took none ; for by hasty flight 905 He strove f escape pursuit of Knight; From whom he fled with as much haste And dread as he the rabble chasM. In haste he fled, and so did they ; Each and his fear a several way. 910 Crowdero only kept the field ; Not stirring from the place he lield, Though beaten down and wounded sore, I' th'' fiddle, and a leg that bore One side of him ; not that of bone, 915 But much its better, th' wooden one. He spying Hudibras lie strowM Upon the ground, like log of wood. With fright of fall, supposed wound, And loss of urine, in a swound, 920 In haste he snatch'd the wooden limb, That hurt i' th' ankle lay by him. 60 HUDIBRAS. And fitting it for sudden fight, Straight drew it up t' attack the Knight ; For getting up on stump and huckle, 925 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. 930 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 935- Approaching Knight from fell musician. He snatch'd his whinyard up, that fled When he was falling oif his steed (As rats do from a falling house,) To hide itself from rage of blows ; 940 And, wing'd with speed and fury, flew To rescue Knight from black and blue ; Which ere he could achieve, his sconce The leg encountered twice and once; And now 'twas rais'd to smite agen, 945 ' When Ralpho thrust himself between. He took the blow upon his arm. To shield the Knight from further harm ; And, joining wrath with force, bestow'd On th' wooden member such a load, 950' That down it fell, and with it bore Crowdero, whom it proppM before. To him the Squire right nimbly run, And setting conquering foot upon His trunk, thus spoke : Wliat despVate frenzy Made thee (thou whelp of sin !) to fancv 956 Tiiyself, and all that coward rabble, T' encounter us in battle able? How durst th", I say, oppose thy curship "Gainst arms, authority and worship? 960 And Hudibras or me provoke. Though all thy limbs were heart of oak. And th' other half of thee as good To bear out blows, as thai of wood? PART L— CANTO 11. 61 Could not the whipping-post prevail, 965 With all its rhetoric, nor the jail, To keep from flaying scourge thy skin, And ankle free from iron gin ? Which now thou shalt — ^But first our care Must see how IJudibras doth fare. 970 This said, he gently rais'd the Knight, And set him on his bum upright. To rouse him from lethargic dump, He tweak'd his nose ; with gentle thump Knocked on his breast, as if't had been 975 To raise the spirits lodg'd within. They, waken'd with the noise, did fly From inward room to window eye ; And gently opening lid, the casement, Look'd out, but yet with some amazement. 980 This gladded Ralpho much to see. Who thus bespoke the Knight : quoth he, Tweaking his nose, You are, great Sir, A self-denying conqueror ; As high, victorious, and great, 985 As e'er fought for the churches yet. If you will give yourself but leave To make out what y' already have ; That's victory. The foe, for dread Of your nine- worthiness, is fled ; 990 All, save Crowdero, for whose sake You did th' espous'd cause undertake ; And he lies prisoner at your feet, To be dispos'd as you think meet ; Either for life, or death, or sale, 995 The gallows, or perpetual jail ; For one wink of your powerful eye Must sentence him to live or die. His fiddle is your proper purchase. Won in the service of the churches : 1000 And by your doom must be allowed To be, or be no more, a crowd. For though success did not confer Just title on the conquei'or ; Thougli dispensations were not strong 1005 Conclusions whether rioht or wroncr; 62 HUDIBRAS. Although out-going did confirm, And owning were but a mere term ; Yet as the wicked have no right To th' creature, thougli usurped by might, 1010 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, 1015 Pimps, buffoons, fiddlers, parasites ; All which the saints have title to, And ought t' enjoy, if th' had their due. What we take from them is no more Than what was ours by right before ; 1020 For we are their true landlords still, And they our tenants but at will. At this the Knight began to rouse, And by degrees grow valorous. He starM about, and seeing none 1025 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. 1030 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 hangman's business, sooner 1035 Than from your hand to have the honour Of his destruction. I, that am A nothingness in deed and name. Did scorn to hurt his forfeit carcass, Or ill intreat his fiddle or case : 1040 Will you, great Sir, that glory blot In cold blood, which you gain'd in hot? \Vin you employ your couq'ring sword To break a fiddle and your word? For though 1 fought, and overcame, 1045 And quarter gave, 'twas in your name, For great commanders only own Wjiat's prosj>ei-ous by the soldier done. PART I.— CANTO II. G3 To save, where yon have pow'r to kill, Argues your pow'r above your will ; 1050 And that your will and powV have less Than both might have of selfishness. This pow'r which, nov/ alive, with dread He trembles at, if he were dead Wou'd no more keep the slave in awe, 1055 Than if you v/ere a knight of straw : For death Vv'ou'd then be his conqueror, Not you, and free him from that terror. If danger from his life accrue, Or honour from his death, to you, lOGO 'Twere policy and honour too. To do as you resolv'd to do ; But, Sir, 'twould wrong your valour much, To say it needs or fears a crutch. Great conquerors greater glory gain lOGf^ By foes in triumph led, than slain : The laurels that adorn their brows Are puird from living, not dead boughs, And living foes : the greatest fame Of cripple slain can be but lame. 1070 One half him's already slain. The other is not worth your pain ; Th' honour can but on one side light. As worship did, when y' were dubb'd knight. Wherefore I think it better far 1075 To keep him prisoner of war. And let him fast in bonds abide, At court of justice to be try'd ; Where, if he appear so bold and craft}^ There may be danger in his safety. 1080 If any member there dislike His face, or to his beard have pique ; Or if his death will save or yield Revenge or fright, it is reveal 'd. Though he has quarter, ne'er the less 1085 Y' have power to hang him when you please. This has been often done by some Of our great conq'rors, you know whom ; And has by most of us been held Wise justice, and to some reveal'd : 109Q 64 HUDIBRAS For words and promises, that yoke The conqueror, are quickly broke ; Like Samson's cuffs, though by his own Direction and advice put on. For if we should fight for the Cause 1095 By rules of military laws. And only do what they call just, The Cause would quickly fall to dust. This we among ourselves may speak ; But to the wicked, or the weak, 1100 We must he cautious to declare Perfection-truths, such as these are. This said, the high, outrageous mettle Of Knight began to cool and settle. He hk'd the Squire's advice, and soon 1105 Pv,esolv'd to see the business done ; And therefore charg'd him first to bind Crowdero's hands on rump behind. And to its former place and use The wooden member to reduce; 1110 But force it take an oath before, Ne'er to bear arms against him inore. Ralpho dispatched with speedy haste. And having ty'd Crowdero fast. He gave Sir Knioht the end of cord, 1115 To lead the captive of his sword In triumph, whilst the steeds he caught, And them to furthei* service brought. The Squire in state rode on before, And on his nut-brov/n whinyard bore 1120 The trophy-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, 1125 Like boat against tlie tide and wind. Thus grave and solemn they march'd on Until quite thro' the town th' had gone ; At further end of which there stands An ancient castle, that commands 1130 Th' adjacent parts: in all the fabric You shall not see one stone nor a brick : PART L— CANTO II* 6^ But all of wood ; by powVful spoil Of magic made impregnable. Tiiere's neitber iron-bar nor gale, ] 135 Portcullis, chain, nor bolt, nor grate, And yet men durance there abide. In dungeon scarce three inches wide ; With roof so low, that under it They never stand, but lie or sit ; 1140 And yet so foul, that whoso 's 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 through, 1145 Until they're freed by head of borough. Thither arriv'd, th'' adventVous Knight And bold Squire from their steeds alight At th' outward wall, near which "there stands A bastile, built to imprison hands ; 1150 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 1155 Is made by beadle exorcist, The body feels the spur and switch, As if 'twere ridden post by witch At twenty miles an hour pace. And yet ne'er stirs out of the place. IIGO On top of this there is a spire. On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire The fiddle and its spoils, the case. In manner of a trophy place. That done, they ope the trap-door gate, 11()5 And let Crowdero down thereat ; Crowdero making doleful face, Ijike hermit poor in pensive place. To dungeon they the wretch commit, And the sui'vivor of his feet : 1170 But th' other, that had broke the peace And head of knighthood they release; Though a delinquent false and forged, ¥ot, being n stranger he's enlarged^ 66 HUDIBRAS. While liis comrade, that did no hurt, 1175 Js clappM lip last in prison for't. So Justice, while she winks at crinrics, Stumbles on innocence sometimes. CANTO ni. The scattei'd rout return and rally, Surround the place ; the Kniglit doth sally, And is made pris'ner : then they seize Th' enclianted fort by storm, release Crowdero, and put th' Squire in's place, 1 should Iiave first said Hudibras. Ah me ! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron ; What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps Do dog him still with after-claps ! For though dame Fortune seem to smile 5 And leer upon him for av/hile, She'll after show him, in the nick Of all his glories, a dog-trick. This any man may sing or say, r th' ditty call'd. What if a Day ? 10 For Hudibras, who thought h' had won The field, as certain as a gun ; And, having routed the whole troop, With victory was cock-a-hoop ; Thinking h' had done enough to purchase 15 Thanksgiving-day a)nong the churches, Wherein his mettle, and brave worth, Might be explain'^ by Holder-forth, And register 'd, by fame eternal, In deathless pages of diurnal ; 20 Found in few minutes, to his cost, He did but count without his host ; And that a turnstile is more certain Than, in events of war, dame Fortune. For now the late faint hearted rout, 25 O'erthrown, and scatter'd round about, Chas'd by the horror of their fear, From bloody fray of Knight and Bear PART I.— CANTO lU. 67 (All but the dogs, who, in pursuit Of the Knighfs victory, stood to't, 30 And most ignobly fought to get The honour of his blood and sweat,) Scing the coas^ was free and clear O' th' conquered and the conqueror. Took heart again, and fac'd about, 35 As if they meant to stand it out : For by this time the routed Bear, Attack'd by th' enemy i' th' rear, Finding their number grew too great For him to make a safe retreat, 40 Like a bold chieftain, fae'd about; But wisely doubting to hold out. Gave way to fortune, and with haste Fac'd the proud foe, and fled, and fae'd ; Retiring still, until he found 45 H' had got the advantage of the ground; And then as valiantly made head To check the foe, and forthwith fled ; Leaving no art untry'd, nor trick Of warrior stout and politic, 50 Until, in spite of hot pursuit. He gain'd a pass, to hold dispute On better terms, and stop the course Of the proud foe. With all his force He bravely charg'd, and for a while 55 Forc'd their whole body to recoil ; But still their numbers so increas'd, He found himself at length oppressed ; And all evasions so vmcertain, To save himself for better fortune, 60 That he resolv'd, rather than yield. To die with honour in the field. And sell his hide and carcase at A price as high and desperate As e'er he could. This resolution 65 Re forthwith put in execution, And bravely threw himself among The enemy, i' th' greatest throng ; But what could single valour do Against so numerous a foe 70 08 HUDIBRAS^ Yet rnucli lio did, indeed too inucli 7^0 he bclicv''d, where tir odds were sucli'. Hut one acrainst a niultitnde 1« more than mortal can make good : For wiiile one party he oppos'd, 75 His rear v;as suddenlj'^ inclosed ; And no room left him for retreat, Or fight against a foe so great. For now the mastiffs, charging home, To blows and handy gripes were come : 8Q While manfully himself he bore. And setting his right foot before, He raisM Himself, to show how tall His person was above them all. This equal shame and envy stirr'd 85 In th' enemy, that one should beard So many warriors, and so stout. As he had done, and stav'd it out. Disdaining to lay down his arms. And yield on honourable terms. 90 Enraged thus, some in the rear Attack'd him, and some ev'ry where, Till down he fell ; yet falling fought, And, being down, still laid about ; As Widdrington, in doleful dumps, 95 I? said to fight upon his stumps. But all, alas ! had been in vains And he inevitably slain. If Trulla and Cerdon, in the nick, To rescue him had not been quick ; 100 For Trulla, who was light of foot As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot, (But not so light as to be borne Upon the ears of standing corn, Or trip it o'er the water quicker 105 Than witches, when their staves they liquor, As some report,) was got among The foremost of the martial throng; There pitying the vanquish^ bear, She caird to Cerdon, who stood near, 110^ Viewing the bloody fight ; to whom, Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum-drum. PART I.— CANTO III, 69 And see stout Bruin all alone, By numbers basely overthrown ? Such feats already h' had achiev'd, 115 In story not to be believed ; And "'twould to us be shame enough, Not to attempt to fetch him off. I would (quoth he) venture a limb To second thee, and rescue him ; 120 But then we must about it straight. Or else our aid will come too late. Quarter he scorns, he is so stout. And therefore cannot long hold out. This said, they wav'd their weapons round 125 About their heads, to clear the ground ; And joining forces, laid about So fiercely, that th' amazed rout Turn'd tail again, and straight begun, As if the devil drove, to run. 130 Meanwhile th'approach'd the place where Bruin Was now engaged to mortal ruin. The conqu'ring foe they soon assail'd; First Trulla stav'd, and Cerdon tail'd, Until their mastiffs loos'd their hold : 135 And yet, alas ! do what they could, The worsted bear came oft" with store Of bloody wounds, but all before : For as Achilles, dipt in pond, Was anabaptiz'd free from wound, 140 Made proof against dead-doing steel All over, but the Pagan heel ; So did our champion's arms defend All of him, but the other end, His head and ears, which, in the martial 145 Encounter, lost a leathern parcel : For as an Austrian archduke once Had one ear (which in ducatoons Is half the coin) in battle par'd Close to his head, so Bruin far'd ; 150 134. Staving and nailing are terms of art used in the Bear-Garden, and signify there only the parting of dogs and bears : though they are used metaphorically in se- veral other professions for moderating ; as law, divi nity hectoring, &c. 70 HUDIBRAS. But tugg'd and pull'd on th' other side. Like scriv'ner newly crucifi'd ; Or like the late corrected leathern Ears of the circumcised brethren. But gentle Trulla into th' ring 155 lie wore in's nose, convey'd a string, ^Vith which she marcliM before, and led Tiie warrior to a grassy bed, As authors write, in a cool shade, Which eglantine and roses made ; 160 Close by a softly murmVing stream, Where lovers us'd to loll and dream. Tliere leaving him to his repose, Secured from pursuit of foes, And wanting nothing but a song, 165 And a well-tunM theorbo hung Upon a bough, to ease the pain His tugg'd ears sufTerM, with a strain, They both drew up, to march in quest Of his great leader and the rest. 170 For Orsin (wlio was more renown'd For stout maintaining of his ground In standing fight, than for pursuit. As being not so quick of foot) Was not long able to keep pace 175 Witli others that pursuM the chase ; But found himself left far behind. Both out of heart and out of wind : Griev'd to behold his bear pursu'd So basely by a multitude ; 180 And like to fall, not by the prowess, But numbers of his coward foes. He rag'd and kept as heavy a coil as Stout Hercules for loss of Hylas ; Forcing the valleys to repeat 185 The accents of his sad regret. He beat his breast, and tore his hair, For loss of his dear crony bear ; 153. Pryn, Bastwick, and Burton, who laid down their ears as proxies for their profession of the godly party, notionsc after maintained tneii right and title to the pillory to be as good and lawful as theirs who first o-f aJI took possi>ssion of it in their names. PART I.— CANTO III. tl That Echo, from the hollow ground, His doleful wailings did resound 190 More wistfully, by many times, Than in small poets splay-foot rhymes, That make her, in their rueful stories, To answer to infrogatories, And most unconsoionably depose 195 To things of which she nothing knows ; And when she has said all she can say, 'Tis wrested to the lover's fancy. Quoth he, O whither, wicked Bruin, Art thou fled ? to my— Echo, Ruin. 200 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 quaifd thy stubborn heart? Have these bones rattled, and this head 205 So often in thy quarrel bled ? Nor did I ever winch or grudge it. For thy dear sake. Quoth she, Mum budget. Think'st thou 'twiU not be laid i' th' dish Thou turn'dst thy back ? Quoth Echo, Pish. 210 To run from those th' hadst overcome Thus cowardly ? Quoth Echo, Mum. But v;hat a vengeance makes thee fiy From me, too, as tliine enemy ? Or if thou hast no thought of me, 215 Nor what I have endur'd for thee. Yet shame and honour miglit prevail To keep thee thus from turning tail : For who would grudge to spend his blood in His honour's cause ? Quoth she, A puddin. 220 This said, his grief to anger turn'd. Which in his manly stomach burn'd ; Thirst of revenge, and wrath, in place Of sorrow, now began to blaze. He vow'd the authors of his wo 225 Should equal vengeance undergo ; And with their bones and flesh pay dear For what he suffered, and his bear. This b'ing resolv'd, with equal speed And rage he hasted to proceed 230 72 HUDIBRAS. To action straight ; and giving o To search for Bruin any more, He went in quest of Hubibras, To find him out, where'er he was : And, if he were above ground vow'd 236 He'd ferret him, lurk where he would. But scarce had he a furlong on This resolute adventure gone. When he encounter'd with that crew Whom Hudibras did late subdue. 240 Honour, revenge, contempt, and shame, Did equally their breasts inflame. 'Mong these the fierce Magnano was, And Talgol, foe to Hudibras ; Cordon and Colon, warriors stout, 245 And resolute, as ever fought ; Whom furious Orsin thus bespoke : Shall we (quoth he) thus basely brook The vile affront that paltry ass. And feeble scoundrel Hudibras, 250 With that more paltry ragamuffin, Ralpho, with vapouring and huffing, Have put upon us like tame cattle, As if th' had routed us in battle ! For my part, it shall ne'er be said, ' 255 I for the washing gave my 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 those fell wounds, or no, 260 He has receiv'd in fight, are mortal, Is more than all my skill can foretel ; Nor do I know what is become Of him, more than the pope of Rome. But if I can but find them out 2G5 That caus'd it (as I shall, no doubt. Where'er th' in hugger-mugger lurk) I'll make them rue their handy-work. And wish that they had rather dar'd ,:To pull the devil by the beard. ' 270- Quoth Cerdon, Noble Orsin, th' hast Great reason to do as thou say'st, PART 1.— CANTO III. 73 And so has ev'ry body here, As well as thou hasL or thy bear. Others may do as they see good ; 275 But if this twig be made of wood That will hold tack, Til make the fut Fly 'bout the ears of that old cur ; And th' other mongrel vermin, Ralph, That brav'd us all in his behalf. 280 Thy bear is safe, and out of peril, Though lugg'd indeed, and wounded very ill; Myself and Trulla made a shift To help him out at a dead lift ; And having brought him bravely off, 285 Have left him where he's safe enough : There let him rest ; for if vv^e stay, The slaves may hap to get away. This said, they all engaged to join Their forces in the same design ; 290 And forthwith put themselves in searcli Of Hudibras upon their march. Where leave we them awhile, to tell What the victorious Knight befel : For such, Crowdero beino- fast 295 In dungeon shut, we left him last. Triumphant laurels seemed to grow No where so green as on his brow ; Laden with which, as well as tir'd With conquering toil he now retired 300 Unto a neighboring castle bj', To rest his body, and apply Fit med'cines to each glorious bruise He got in fight, reds, blacks, and blues; To mollify the uneasy pang 305 Of ev'ry honourable bang, Which b'ing by skilful midwife drest, He laid him down to take his rest. But all in vain. H' had got a hurt O' th' inside, of a deadlier sort, 310 By Cupid made, who took his stand tipon a widow's jointure land (For he, in all his am'rous battles, No 'dvantage finds like goods and chattels,) E 74 HUDIBRAS. Drew home his bow, and, aiming right, 351 Let fly an arrow at the Knight : The shaft against a rib did glance, And gall'd him in the purtenance ; But time had somewhat 'suagM his pain After he found his suit in vain. 320 For that proud dame, for whom his soul Was burnt in 's belly like a coal (That belly which so oft did ake And suffer griping for her sake, Till purging comfits and ants'-eggs 325 Had almost brought him oft'his legs,) UsM him so like a base rascallion. That old Pyg — (what d' y' call him) malion, That cut his mistress out of stone. Had not so liard a hearted one. 330 She had a thousand Jadish tricks, Worse than a mule that flings and kicks ; 'Mong which one cross-grain'd freak she had* As insolent as strange and mad ; Slie could love none, but only such 335 As scorn'd and hated her as much. 'Twas a strange riddle of a lady : Not love, if any lovVl her ! Hey-dey ! So cowards never use their might, But against such as will not fight ; 340 So some diseases have been found Only to seize upon the sound. He that gets her by heart, must say her The back way, like a witch's prayer. Meanwhile the Knight had no small task 345 To compass what he durst not ask. He loves, but dares not make the motion ; Her ignorance is his devotion ; 328. Pyfrmalion, king of Tyre, was the son of IVIar- genus, or Mechres, wlmm lie succeeded, and lived 56 years, wliereof lie reiarud 47. Dido, his sister, was to iiave poveriied with Ifim, but it was pretended the sub- jpcts thought it not convenient. She married SichcBus, who was the kitifi's uncle, and very rich ; wherefore he piit him to death ; and Dido soon after departed the king dom. Poets say, Pypnialion was punisluMl for the hatred he bore to wosnen'wiih the love he had to a iitarue. PART I.~CANTO III. 75 Like caitiff vile, that, for misdeed, Rides with his face to rump of steed, 350 Or rowing scull, he's fain to love, Look one way, and another move; Or like a tumbler, that does play His game, and look another way, Until he seize upon the cony ; 355 Just so he does by matrimony : But all in vain ; her subtle snout Did quickly wind his meaning out ; Which she returned with too much scorn To be by man of honour borne : 360 Yet much he bore, until the distress He suffered from his spiteful mistress Did stir his stomach ; and the pain He had endur'd from her disdain. Turned to regret so resolute, 365 That he resolv'd to waive his suit, And either to renounce her quite. Or for a while play least in sight. This resolution b'ing put on. He kept some months, and more had done, 370 B ut being brought so nigh by fate, The victory he achieved so late Did set his thoughts agog, and ope A door to discontinu'd hope. That seem'd to promise he might win 375 His dame too, now his hand was in ; And that his valour, and the honour H' had newly gain"d, might work upon her. These reasons made his mouth to water With am'rous longings to be at her. 380 Quoth he, unto himself. Who knows But this brave conquest o'er my foes May reach her heart, and make that stoop, As I but now have forc'd the troop ? If nothing can oppugn love, 385 And virtue invious ways can prove, What may he not confide to do That brings both love and virtue too ? But thou bring'st valour too and wit : Two things that seldom fail to hit. 390 76 HUDIBRAS. Valour's a mouse-trap, wit a gin, Which women oft are taken in. Then, Hudibras, why should'st thou fear To bo, that art a conqueror ? I'^ortunc til' audacious doth juvare, 395 But lets the timidous miscarry. Then while the honour thou hast got Is spick and span new, piping hot, Strike her up bravely, thou hadst best, And trust thy fortune with the rest. 400 Such thoughts as these the Knight did keep. More than his bangs or fleas, from sleep. And as an owl, that in a barn Sees a mouse creeping in the corn. Sits still, and shuts his round blue eyes, 405 As if he slept, until he spies The little beast within his reach, Tlien starts, and seizes on the wretch ; So from his couch the Knight did start To seize upon the widow's heart ; 410 Crying with hasty tone, and hoarse, Ralpho, dispatch ; to horse, to horse. And 'twas but time ; for now the rout, We left engag'd to seek him out, By speedy marches, wer6 advanc'd 415 Up to the fort, where he ensconc'd ; And all the avenues had possest About the place, from east to west. That done, a while they made a halt. To view the ground^ and where t' assault : 420 Then call'd a council, which was best. By siege or onslaught, to invest The enemy ; and 'twas agreed . By stonn and onslaught to proceed. This b'ing resolv'd, in comely sort 425 They now drew up t' attack the fort : When Hudibras, about to enter Upon another-gates adventure, To Ralpho call'd aloud to arm. Not dreaming of approaching storm. 430 Whether dame Fortune, or the care Of angel bad or tutelar, PART I.— CANTO HI. 77 Did arm, or thrust liim on a danger To which he was an utter stranger, Tliat foresight might, or might not, blot 435 The glory he had newly got ; Or to his shame it might be said. They took him dapping in his bed; To them we leave it to expound, That deal in sciences profound. 440 His courser scarce he had bestrid, And Ralpho that on which he rid, When setting ope the postern gate. Which they thought best to sally at, The foe appearM, drawn up and drill'd, 445 Ready to charge them in the field. This somewhat startled the bold Knight, Surpris'd with th' unexpected sight : The bruises of his bones and flesh He thought began to smart afresh ; 450 Till recollecting wonted courage. His fear was soon converted to rage, And thus he spoke : The coward foe Whom we but now gave quarter to. Look, yonder's rally'd, and appears 455 As if they had outrun their fears. The glory we did lately get. The Fates command us to repeat; And to their wills we must succomb, Quocunque trahunt, 'tis our doom. 460 This is the same numeric crew Whicli we so lately did subdue ; The self-same individuals that Did run as mice do from a cat. When we courageously did wield 465 Our martial weapons in the field, To tug for victory ; and when We shall our shining blades agen Brandish in terror o'er our heads. They'll straight resume their wonted dreads.470 Fear is an ague, that forsakes And haunts by fits those whom it takes ; And they'll opine tliey feel the pain And blows tlioy felt to-day again 78 HUDIBRAB. Tlien lot lis boldly cljargo them home, 475 And make no doubt to overcome. This said, I lis courage to inflame, He eaird upon his mistress' name. His pistol next he cock'd anew, And out his nut-brown whinyard drew ; 48(^ And, placing R,alpho in the front, Reserv'd himself to bear the brunt, «• As expert warriors use : then ply'd With iron heel his courser's side, Conveying sympathetic speed 485 From heel of Knight to heel of steed. Meanwhile the foe, with equal rage And speed, advancing to engage; Both parties now were drawn so close, Almost to come to handy-blows : 490' When Orsin first let fly a stone At Ralpho ; not so huge a one As that which Diomed did maul iEneas on the bum withal ; Yet big enough, if rightly hurl'd, 495- T' have sent him to another world, Whether above ground, or below, Which saints twice dipt are destin'd to. The danger startled the bold Scjuire, And made him some few steps retire ; 500 But Hudibras advanced to' 's aid. And rous'd his spirits, half dismay'd. He, wisely doubting lest the shot Of th' enemy, now growing hot, Might at a distance gall, pressed close, 505 To come pell-mell to handy -blows, And, that he might their aim decline, Advanc'd still in an oblique line ; But prudently forbore to fire. Till breast to breast he had got nigher, 510 As expert warriors use to do When hand to hand they charge their foe. This order the advent'rous Knight, Most soldier-like, observ'd in fight. When Fortune (as she's wont) turn'd fickle, 515> Ai.d for the foe l>o?an to stickle. PART I.— CANTO III. 79 The more shame for her goodyshij), To give so near a friend the sHp. For Colon choosing out a stone, Leveird so right, it thump'd upon 520 His manly paunch witli such a force, As almost beat him off his horse. He lost his whinyard, and the rein ; But laying fast hold of the mane, Preserv'd his seat : and as a goose 525 In death contracts his talons close. So did the Knight, and with one claw The trigger of his pistol draw. The gun went off : and as it was Still fatal to stout Hudibras, 530 In all his feats of arms, when least He dreamt of it, to prosper best, So now he far'd : the shot, let fly At random 'mong the ehemy, Pierc'd Talgol's gaberdine, and grazing 535 Upon his shoulder, in the passing Lodged in Magnano's brass habergeon, Who straight, A surgeon ! cry'd, a surgeon ! He tumbled down, and, as he fell. Did Murther ! Murther ! ]VIurther ! yell. 540 This startled their whole body so. That if the Knight had not let go His arms, but been in warlike plight, H' had won (the second time) the fight ; As, if the Squire had but fall'n on, 545 He had inevitably done : But he, diverted with the care Of Hudibras his hurt, forbare To press tli' advantage of his fortune, While danger did the rest dishearten : 550 For he with Cerdon b'ing engag'd In close encounter, they both wag'd The fight so well, 'twas hard to say Which side was like to get the day. And now the busy work of death 555 Had tir'd them, so th' agreed to breathe, Preparing to renew the fight, When the disaster of the Knight, 80 HUDIBRAS. And tir other party, did divert Their fell intent, and forc'd them part. 560 Ralpho press'd up to Hudibras, And Cerdon where Magnano was ; Each striving- to confirm his' party With stout encouragements and hearty. Quoth Ilalpho, Courage, vaUant Sir, 565 And let revenge and honour stir Your spirits u\) : once more fall on, The shatter'd foe begins to run : For if but half so well you knew To use your victory as subdue, 570 They durst not, after such a blow As you have given them, face us now ; But from so formidable a soldier Had fled like crows wlien they smell powder. Thrice have they seen your sword aloft 575 Wav'd o'er their heads, and fled as oft ; But if you let them recollect Their spirits, now dismay'd and check'd, You'll have a harder game to play Than yet y' have had to get the day. 580 Thus spoke the stout Squire ; but was heard By Hudibras with small regard. His thoughts were fuller of the bang He lately took, than Ralph's harangue ; To which he answer'd. Cruel Fate 585 Tells me thy counsel comes too late. The knotted blood within my hose, That from my wounded body flows. With mortal crisis doth portend My days to appropinque an end. 590 r am for action now unfit, Either of fortitude or wit : Fortune, my foe, begins to frown, Resolv'd to pull my stomach down. I am not apt, upon a wound, 595 Or trivial basting, to despond : Yet I'd be loth my days to curtail : For if I thought my wounds not mortal, Or that we'd time enough as yet To make an hon'rable retreat, 600 PART I.— CANTO III. 81 'Twere the best course : but if they find We fly, and leave our arms behind For them to seize on, the dishonour, And danofer too, is such, Til sooner Stand to it boldly, and take quarter, 605 To let them see I am no starter. In all the trade of war, no feat Is nobler than a brave retreat : For those that run away, and fly, Take place at least of th' enemy. 610 This said, the Squire with active speed, Dismounted from his bony steed. To seize the arms, which, by mischance, Fell from the bold Knig-ht in a trance. These being found out, and restor'd 615 To Hudibras, their natural lord. As a man may say, with might and main He hasted to get up again. Thrice he essay 'd to mount aloft, But, by his weighty bum, as oft 620 He was pulFd back, till having found Th' advantage of the rising ground, Thither he led his warlike steed. And having plac'd him right, with speed PreparM again to scale the beast ; 625 When Orsin, who had newly dress'd The bloody scar upon the shoulder Of Talgol with Promethean powder, And now was searching for the shot That laid Magnano on the spot, 630 Beheld the sturdy Squire aforesaid Preparing to climb iip his horse' side. He left his cure, and laying hold Upon his arms, with courage bold, Cry'd out, 'Tis now no time to dally, 635 The enemy "begin to rally; Let us, that are unhurt and whole. Fall on, and happy man bo's dole. This said, like to a thunderbolt, He flew with fury to th' assault, 640 Striving the enemy to attack Before he reach'd his horse's back. E2 82 HUDIBRAS. Ralpho was mounted now, and gotten Certhwart his beast witli active vau'ting, Wriggling- his body to recover 645 His seat, and cast his right leg over ; When Orsin, rushing in, bestow'd On horse and man so heavy a load, The beast was startled, and begun To kick and fling like mad, and run, 650 Bearing the tough Squire like a sack, Or stout king R,ichard, on his back ; Till stumbling, he threw him down, Sore bruisM, and cast into a swoon. Meanwhile the Knight began to rouse 655 The sparkles of liis wonted prowess: He thrust his hand into his hose. And found, both by his eyes and nose, 'Twas only choler, and not blood. That from his wounded body flowed. G60 Tliis, with the hazard of the Squire, Inflam'd him with despiteful ire : Courageously he fac'd about. And drew his other pistol out, And now had halfway bent the cock, 665 When Cerdon gave so fierce a shock, With sturdy truncheon, 'thv.'art his arm, That down it fell, and did no harm : Then stoutly pressing on with speed, Assay 'd to pull him oft his steed. 670 The Knight his sword had only left, With which he Cerdon's head had cleft, Or at the least cropt off a limb. But Orsin came, and rescued him. He, with his lance, attack'd the Knight 675 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 wliich to turn him to ; 680 So far'd the Knight between two foes, And knew not which of them t' oppose ; Till Orsin, charging with his lance At Hudihras, by spiteful clinnce PART 1.— CANTO 111. 83 Hit Ceidon such a bang, as stunn'd 685 And laid him flat upon the ground. At this the Knight began to cheer up, And, raising up himself on stirrup, Cry'd out, Victoria ! He thou there, And I shall straight dispatch another, 690 To bear thee company in death ; But first I'll halt a while, and breathe : As well he miglit ; for Orsin, griev'd At th' wound that Cerdon had receiv'd, Ran to relieve him with his lore, 695 And cure the hurt he gave before. Meanwhile the Knight had wheeFd about, To breatlie himself, and next find out Th' advantage of the ground, where best He might the rufiled foe infest. 700 This b'ing resolved, he spurr'd his steed, To run at Orsin with full speed, Wliile he was busy in the care Of Cerdon 's wound, and unaware ; But he was quick, and had already 705 Unto the part apply 'd remedy ; And, seeing th' enemy prepar'd, Drew up, and stood upon his guard. Then, like a warrior right expert And skilful in the martial art, 710 The subtle Knight straight made a halt, And judg'd it best to stay th' assault, Until he had reliev'd the Squire, And then in order to retire ; Or, as occasion should invite, 715 With forces join'd renew the figlit. Ralpho, by this time disentranc'd, Upon his bum himself advanc'd. Though sorely bruis'd ; his limbs all o'er With ruthless bangs were stiff" and sore. 720 Right fain he would have got upon His feet again, to get hiin gone. When Hudibias to aid him came : Quoth he (and call'd him by his name,) Courage I the day at length is ours ; 195 And we once more, a,s conquerors, 84 HUDIBRAS. Have both the field and honour won : The foe is profligate, and run. I mean all such as can ; for some This hand hath sent to their long home ; 730 And some lie sprawling on the ground, With many a gash and bloody wound. * Caesar himself could never say He got two victories in a day, As I have done, that can say, Twice I 735 In one day, Veni, Vidi, Vici. The foe's so numerous, that we Cannot so often vincere As they perire, and yet enow Be left to strike an after- blow ; 740 Then, lest they rally, and once more Put us to fight the bus'ness o'er. Get up, and mount thy steed : Dispatch, And let us both their motions watch. Quoth Ralph, I should not, if I were 745 In case for action, now be here : Nor have I turn'd my back, or hang'd An arse, for fear of being bang'd. It was for you I got these harms, Adventuring to fetch off your arms. 750 The blows and drubs I have receiv'd Have bruis'd my body, and bereav'd My limbs of strength. Unless you stoop. And reach your hand to pull me up, I shall lie here, and be a prey 755 To those who now are run away. That thou shalt not (quoth Hudibras ;) We read the ancients held it was More honourable far, servare Civcm, than slay an adversary : 760 The one we oft to-day have done, The other shall dispatch anon : And though th' art of a different church, I will not leave thee in the lurch. This said, he jogg'd his good steed nigher, 765 And steer'd him gently tov/ards the Squire ; Then bowing down his body, stretcliM His hand out, and at Ralpho reachM ; PART I.— I.ANTO III. 85 When Trulla, whom he did not mind, Charged him like hghteiiing beliind. 770 She had been long in search about Magnano's wound, to find it out ; But could find none, nor where the shot, That had so startled him, was got : But having found the worst was past, 775 She fell to her own work at last. The pillage of the prisoners, Which in all feats of arms was hers ; And now to plunder Ralph she flew, When Hudibras his hard fate drew 780 To succour him ; for, as he bow'd To help him up, she laid a load Of blows so heavy, and plac'd so well, On t' other side, that down he fell. Yield, scoundrel base (quoth she,) or die : 785 Thy life is mine, and liberty : But if thou think'st I took thee tardy, And dar'st presume to be so hardy. To try thy fortune o'er afresh, I'll waive my title to thy flesh ; 790 Thy arms and baggage, now my right ; And, if thou hast the heart to try 't, ril lend thee back thyself a while. And once more, for that carcass vile. Fight upon tick. — Quoth Hudibras, 795 Thou offer'st nobly, valiant lass. And I shall take thee at thy word. First let me rise and take my sword ; That sword which has so oft this day Through squadrons of my foes made way, 800 And some to other worlds dispatched. Now with a feeble spinster matched. Will blush with blood ignoble stain'd. By which no honour's to be gain'd. But if thou'lt take m' advice in this, 805 Consider whilst thou may'st, what 'tis To interrupt a victor's course, B' opposing- such a trivial force : For if with conquest 1 come off" (And that I ahall do, suie enough,) 810 86 HUDIBRAS. Quarter thou canst not have, nor grace, By law of arms, in such a case ; Both which I now do offer freely. I scorn (quoth she) thou coxcomb silly (Clapping her hand upon her breech, 815 To show how much she priz'd his speech,) Quarter or counsel from a foe ; If thou canst force me to it, do. But lest it should again be said, When I have once more won thy head, 820 I took thee napping, unprepar'd, Arm, and betake thee to thy guard. This said, she to her tackle fell, And on the Knight let fall a peal Of blows so fierce, and pressed so home, 825 That he retirM, and followed 's bum. Stand to 't (quoth she) or yield to mercy : It is not fighting arsie-versie Shall serve thy turn. — This stirr'd his spleen More than the danger he was in, 830 The blows he felt, or was to feel, Although th"' already made him reel. Honour, despight, revenge, and shame, At once into his stomach came. Which firM it so, he rais'd his arm 835 Above his head, and rain'd a storm Of blows so terrible and thick, As if he meant to hash her quick. But she upon her truncheon took them, And by oblique diversion broke them, 840 Waiting an opportunity To pay all back with usury, Whicli long she fail'd not of; for now The Kuiglit with one dead-doing blow Resolving to d.ecide the fight, 845 And she with quick and cunning sleight Avoiding it, the force and weight He charged upon it was so great. As almofit sv/sjyM him to the ground. No sooner slic th' advantage found, 850 Bui in slic tlcw ; and seconding With huine-niade Ihrubt tlic heavy swing. PART I.— CANTO 111. 87 She laid him flat upon his side ; And mouulino- on his trunk astride, Quoth she, I told thee what would come 855 Of ail thy vapouring, base scum. Say, will the law of arms allow I may have gra5e and quarter now ? Or wilt thou rather break thy v\^ord. And stain thine honour, than thy sword? 860 A man of war to damn his soul, In basely breaking his parole ; And when, before the fight, th' hadst vow'd To give no quarter in cold blood : Now thou hast got me for a Tartar, 865 To make me 'gainst my will take quarter, Why dost not put me to the sword. But cowardly fly from thy word P Quoth Hudibras, The day's thine own ; Thou and thy stars have cast me down ; 870 My laurels are transplanted now, And flourish on thy conquering brow ; My loss of honour 's great enough, Thou need'st not brand it with a scoff: Sarcasms may eclipse thine own, 875 But cannot blur my lost renown. I am not now in Fortune's power ; He that is down can fall no lower. The ancient heroes were illustrious For being benign, and not blustrous, 880 Against a vanquished foe : their swords Were sharp and trenchant, not their words ; And did in figb.t but cut v/ork out T' employ tlicir courtesies about. Quoth she. Although thou hast deserv'd, 885 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. 890 Thy arms, thy liberty, beside All that's on th' outside of tliy hide, Are mine by military law, Of which I will not bate one straw : m HUDIBRAS. The rest, thy life and limbs, onre more, 895 Though doubly forloit, 1 restore. Quotli Hndibras, Jt is too late For me to treat or stipulate : What thou command'st, I must obey : Yet those whom I expugn'd to-day 900 Of thine own party, 1 let go, And gave them life and freedom too : Both dogs and bear, upon their parole, Whom 1 took prisoners in this quarrel. Quoth Trulla, Whether thou or they 905 Let one another run away. Concerns not me : but was't not thou That gave Crowdero quarter too r* Crowdero, whom, in irons bound. Thou basely threw'st into Lob's pound, 910 Where still he lies, and with regret His gen'rous bowels rage and fret. But now thy carcase shall redeem And serve to be exohang'd for him. This said, the Knight did straight submit, 915 And laid his weapon at her feet. Next he disrob'd his gabardine, And with it did himself resign. She took it, and forthwith divesting The mantle that she wore, said jesting 920 Take that, and wear it for my sake ; Then threw it o'er his sturdy back, And as the French, we conquer'd once, Now give us laws for pantaloons, 923. Pautaloons and port-cannons were some of thfi fantastic fashions wherein we aped the French. At quisquis Insula satus Brltannica Sic patria insolcns fastidiet suam, Tit more simian labon-t fiiigere, Et ffimuiari Gallicas ineptias, Et omni (.alio eiio hunc opinor ebrium ; Ergo ex Britansin, ut Gallus esse nititur Sic Dii jubet(?, fiat ex Gallo Capus. Thomas More. Gallus is a river in Phryiria, risiuR out of the moun- tains of Celenas, and discharging itself into the river Sanger, tiie water of which is of that admirable quality, that, being moderately drank, it purges the brain, and ■•ures madiir-ss ; but iar^'eiy draiik, it makes men fran ti"!. Pliny, Tioraiiiis. PART I.— CANTO III. 89 The length of breeclie?, and the gathers, 925 Port-cannons, periwigs, and feathers ; Just so the ]>roud insulting lass Array'd and dighted Hudibras. Meanwhile the other champions, yerst In hurry of the^fight disperst, 930 Arrived when Trulla won the day, To share in tir honour and the prey, And out of Hudibras his hide With vengeance to be satisfy 'd ; Which now they were about to pour 935 Upon him in a wooden show'r ; But Trulla thrust herself between, And striding o''er his back agen, She brandished o'er her head his sword. And vow\l they should not break her word : Sh'had giv'n him quarter, and her blood 941 Or theirs should make that quarter good ; For she was bound, by law of arms, To see him safe from farther harms. In dungeon deep Crowdero, cast 945 By Hudibras, as yet lay fast ; Where, to the hard and ruthless stones, His great heart made perpetual moans : Him she resolv\i that Hudibras Should ransom, and supply his place. 950 This stopp'd their fury, and the basting Which towards Hudibras was hasting. They thought it was but just and right That what she had achiev'd in fight She should dispose of how she pleas'd ; 955 Crowdero ought to be released : Nor could that any way be done So well as this she pitch'd upon : For who a better could imagine ? This therefore they resolved t' engage in. 960 The Knight and Squire first they made Rise from the ground where they were laid : Then mounted both upon their horses, But with their faces to the arses ; Orsin led Iludibras's beast, 965 And Talgol that which Ralpho prest, 90 HUDTBRAS. Whom stout Maornaiio, valiant Cerdon, And Colon, wailed as a guard on ; All usirrin'ji" Triilk) in I lie rear, With 111' arms of cithor prisoner. 970- In this prond (U'dor and array They put theinsolves upon the way, Strivini;- to reach th' enchanted castle, Where stout Crowdero in durance lay still. Thither \vit!i -^Tcater speed than shows 975 And trianij^h over conquered foes Do use V allow, or than the bears Or pageants borne before lord mayors Arc wont "to use, they soon arriv''d In order, soldier-like contrived ; 980 Still marching in a warlike posture, As fit for battle as for muster. The Knight and Squire they first unhorse, And bending 'gainst the fort their force, They all advanced, and round about 985, Begirt the magical redoubt. Magnan led up in this adventure, And made way for the rest to enter ; For he was skilful in black art. No less than he that built the fort ; 990 And v/ith 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 : 996 Restored t' his fiddle and his case, And liberty, his thirsty rage With luscious vengeance to assuage : For he no sooner was at large, But TruUa straight brought on the charge, And in the self-same limbo put 1001 The Knight and Squire where he was shut; Where leaving them in Hockley i' th' Hole, Their bangs and durance to condole, Confined and conjur'd into narrow 100& Enchanted mansion to know sorrow. In the same order and array Which they advanced, they march'd away. PART 1.— CANTO III. 91 But Hudibras, who scorn'd to stoop To Fortune, or be said to droop, 1010 ClieerVl up himself witli ends of verse, And sayings of pliilosophers. Quoth he, Th' one half of man, his mind, f s, sui juris, unconfirrd. And cannot be laid by tlie heels, 1015 Whate'er the other moiety feels. Tis not restraint or liberty That makes men prisoners or free ; But perturbations that possess The mind, or eequanimities. 1020 The whole world was not half so wide To Alexander, when he cry'd, Because he had but one to subdue, As was a paltry narrow tub to Diogenes, who is not said 1025 (For aught that ever I could read) To whine, put finger i' th' eye, and sob, Because h' liad ne'er another tub. The ancients made two sev'ral kinds Of prowess in heroic minds ; 1030 The active and the passive valiant; Bpth which are pari libra gallant : For both to give blows, and to carry, In fights are equi-necessary : But in defeats, the passive stout 1035 Are always found to stand it out Most desperately, and to outdo The active 'gainst the conqu'ring foe. Tho' we with blacks and blues are suggill'd, Or, as the vulgar say, are cudgell'd ; 1040 He that is valiant, and dares fight, Though drubb'd, can lose no honour by't. Honour's a lease for lives to come. And cannot be extended from The legal tenant ; 'tis a chattel 1045 Not to be forfeited in battle. If he that in the field is slain. Be in the bed of honour lain. He that is beaten may be said To lie in lionour's truckle-bed. 1050 92 HUDIBRAS. For an wo kpo iW of',1ip,f;od sim Hv mortals is iiioro oazVl upon, Thnn Nvl,,- n n^lMvpVlwij]) all liis light, TT" ' ;-Icy most bright ; So estate, 1055 Is nioril adiiiir'cl iind wonder'd at. ■■>' Quotli Ralpli, How great I do not know We may by being beaten grow ; Uut none, that see how here we sit, Will judge us overgrown with wit. 1060 As gifted brethren, preaching by A carnal hour-glass, do imply, Illumination can convey Into them what they have to say. But not liow much ; so well enough 1065 Know you to charge, but not draw off: For who, witfiout a cap and bauble, Having subdu'd a bear and rabble, And might with honour have come off. Would put it to a second proof? 1070 A politic exploit, right fit For Presbyterian zeal and wit. Quoth Hudibras, That cuckoo's tone, Ralpho, thou always harp'st upon. Wlien tliou at any thing would'st rail, 1075 Thou mak'st Presbytery the scale To take the height on't, and explain To what degree it is profane : Whatsoever will not with (thy what d'ye call) Thy light jump right, thou call'st synodical; As if Presbytery were the standard 1081 To size whatsoever 's to be slandered. Dost not remember how this day Thou to my beard was bold to say, That thou couldst prove bear-beating equal With synods orthodox and legal ? 1086 Do if thou can'st, for I deny't. Ard dare thee to't with all thy light. . Quoth Ralpho, Truly that is no Hard matter for a man to do, 1090 That has but any guts in 's brains. And cou'd believe it worth his pains; PART I. CANTO III. 93 But Since you dare and urge me to it, You'll find I've light enough to do it. Synods are mystical bear-gardens, 1095 Where elders, deputies, churchwardens, And other merjibers of the court, " Manage the Babylonish sport ; For prolocutor, scribe, and bear-ward. Do differ only in a mere word ; 1100 Both are but sevVal synagogues (3f carnal men, and bears, and dogs : Both anti-christian assemblies. To H^i -chief bent, far "as in them lies ; BotJi stave and tail with fierce contests, 1105 The one with men, the other beasts. The ditf 'rence is, the one fights with The tongue, the other with the teeth ; And that they bait but bears in this. In th' other, souls and consciences ; 1110 Where samts themselves are brought to stake For gospel-light, and conscience' sake ; Expos'd to Scribes and Presbyters, Instead of mastifi:' dogs and curs, Than whom th' have less humanity ; 1115 For these at souls of men will fly. This to the propliet did appear. Who in a vision saw a bear, Prefiguring the beastly rage Of church-rule in this latter age : 1120 As is demonstrated at full By him that baited the Pope's bull. Bears nat'rally are beasts of prey, That live by rapine ; so do they. What are their orders, constitutions, 1125 Clmrch-censures, curses, absolutions, But sev'ral mystic chains they make, To tie poor Christians to the stake. And then set heathen officers, Instead of dogs, about their ears ? 1130 For to prohibit and dispense ; To find out, or to make offence ; 1122. A learned divine in King James's time wrote a polemic work against the Pope, and gave it that un- lucky nickname of The Pope's Bull baited. 94 HUDIBRAS. Of hell and heaven to dispose ; To play with souls at fast and loose ; To set what characters they please, 1135 And mulcts on sin or godliness ; Reduce the church to gospel-order, By rapine, sacrilege, and murder; To make Presbytery supreme. And kings themselves submit to them ; 1140 And force all people, though against Their consciences, to turn saints ; Must prove a pretty thriving trade, Wlien saints monopolists are made : Wlien pious frauds, and holy shifts, 1145 Are dispensations and gifts, Their godliness becomes mere ware, And ev'ry synod but a fair. Synods are whelps of th' Inquisition, A mongrel breed of like pernicion; 1150 And growing up, became the sires Of scribes, commissioners, and triers ; Whose bus'ness is, by cunning sleight. To cast a figure for men's light ; To find, in lines of beard and face, 1155 The pliysiognomy 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 their ringing ; 1160 By black caps, underlaid with white, Give certain guess at inward light. Which Serjeants at the gospel wear. To make the spiritual calling clear; The handkerchief about the neck 1165 (Canonical cravat of Smeck, 1165. Smcciymnuus was a club of five parliamentary liolderri-forth ; ilie ciiaracters of whose names and ta- lents well' by !li:jiii3(:;ives oxpressed in that senseless and iMsigiiilii-auT word. Tiiey wore handkerchiefs about iheir neckp tor a mark of distinction (as the officers of the j)ailia;i!:nii army then did), which afterwards de- giiiieratrd into carnal i ravats. About the beginning of the Inni iruliumi'iit, in the year 1G41, these five wrote a book ai^aiiis! ipiscouacy and the Common Prayer, to A'hich Mi.jy ai! .-;iii>-cii!)od their names ; being Stephen Marshal, ELlm;i:sd Caiauiy, Thoma?. Young, Matthew PART I.— CANTO III. 95 From whom the institution came, When church and state they set on flame, And worn by them as badges then Of spiritual warfaring men) 1170 Judge rightly if regeneration Be of the newest cut in fashion. vSure 'tis an orthodox opinion, That grace is founded in dominion. Great piety consists in pride ; 1175 To rule is to be sanctified : To domineer, and to control. Both o'er the body and the soul, Is the most perfect discipline Of church-rule, and by right divine. 1180 Bel and the Dragon's chaplains were More moderate than tliese by far : For they (poor knaves) were glad to cheat, To get their wives and children meat ; But these will not be fobb'd off so ; 1185 They must have wealth and power too, Or else with blood and desolation Tliey'U tear it out o' th' heart o' th' nation. Sure these themselves from primitive And heathen priesthood do derive, 1190 When butchers were the only clerks, Elders and presbyters of kirks; Wliose directory was to kill ; And some believe it is so still. The only dilfrence is, that then 1195 Tliey slaughter'd only beasts, now men. For then to sacrifice a bullock, Or now and then a child to Moloch, Newcomen, and William Spurstow, and from thence tliey and tlieir followers were called Smectymnians. They are remarkable for another pious book, which they wrote some time after that, entitled The King's Cabinet Unlocked, wherein all the chaste and endear- ing expressions, in the letters that passed between his majesty King Charles 1. and his royal consort, are by these painful labourers in the devil's vineyard turned into burlesque and ridicule. Their books were answer- ed with as much calmness and uenteelness of expression, and as much learning and hoiifHty, by the Rev. Mr. Sy- monds, then a deinived cler^;yinan, as theirs was stuffed with malice, spleen, and rascally inveclivcs. 96 HUDIBRAS. They count a vile abomination, But not to slaughter a whole nation. 1200 Presbytery does but translate The papacy to a free state ; A commonwealth of Popery, Where ev'ry village is a see As well as Rome, and must maintain 1205 A tithe-pig metropolitan ; Where ev'ry presbyter and deacon Commands the keys for cheese and bacon ; And ev'ry hamlet's governed By 's Holiness, the church's head ; 1210 More haughty and severe in 's place, Than Gregory or Boniface. Such churth must (surely) be a monster With many heads : for if we conster What in th' Apocalypse we find, 1215 According to th' apostle's mind, 'Tis that the whore of Babylon With many heads did ride upon ; Which heads denote the sinful tribe Of deacon, priest, lay-elder, scribe. 1220 Lay-elder, Simeon to Levi, Whose little finger is as heavy As loins of patriarchs, prince-prelate. And bishop-secular. This zealot Is of a mongrel, diverse kind ; 1225 Cleric before, and lay behind ; A lawless linseywoolsey brother. Half of one order, half another ; A creature of amphibious nature. On land a beast, a fish in water ; 1230 That always preys on grace or sin ; A sheep without, a wolf within. This fierce inquisitor has chief Dominion over men's belief And manners ; can pronounce a saint 1235 Idolatrous or ignorant, When superciliously he sifts Through coarsest boulter others' gifts ; For all men live and judge amiss, Whose talent;; jump iiot just with his. 1240 PART L— CANTO III. 97 He'll lay on gifts with hands, and place On dullest noddle light and grace, The manufacture of the kirk, Those pastors are but th' handy-work Of his mechanic paws, instilling 1245 Divinity in them'by feeling; From whence they start up chosen vessels, Made by contact, as men get measles. So cardinals, they say, do grope At th' other end the new-made pope. 1250 Hold, hold, quoth Hudibras ; soft fire, They say, does make sweet malt. Good Squire, Festina lente, not too fast; For haste (the proverb says) makes waste. The quirks and cavils thou dost make 1255 Are false, and built upon mistake : And I shall bring you, with your pack Of fallacies, t' elenchi back ; And put your arguments in mood Arid figure to be understood, 1260 ril force you, by right ratiocination. To leave your vitilitigation, 1249. This relates to the story of Pope Joan, who was called John VIII. Platiiia saith she was of English ex- traction, but born at Mentz ; who, having disguised her- self like a man, travelled with her paramour to Athens, where she made such progress in learning, that coming to Rome, she met willi few that could equal her; so that, on the death of Pope Leo IV. she was chosen to succeed him ; but being got with child by one of her do- mestic.-', her travail came upon her between the Coloe- siau Theatre and St. Clement's, as she was going to the Lateran Church, and died upon the place, having sat two years, one month, and four days, and was buried there without any pomp. He owns that, for the shame of this, the popes decline going through this street to the Lateran; and that, to avoid the like error, when any pope is placed in the Porphyry Chair, his genitals are felt by the youngest deacon, through a hole made for that purpose ; but he supposes the reason of that to be, to put him in mind that lie is a man, and obnoxious to tlie necprfsiiies of nature , whence he will have the seat to be called Sedes Stercoraria. 12fi2. Vitilitigation is a word the KniglitAvns passion- ately in love with, and never failed to use it upon all occasions ; and therefore to omit il, when it fell in the way, had argued too great a nc^'lcctof his learning and parts ; though it means no more than a nti veise humour of wrangling. F 98 HUDIBRAS. And make you keep to th' question close. And argue dialecticos. Tlie question then, to state it first, 1265 Is, which is better, or which worst, Synods or bears ? Bears I avow To be the worst, and synods thou. But to make good th' assertion, Thou say'st they're really all one. 1270 If so, not worse ; for if th' are idem, Why then, tantundem dat tantidem. For if they are the same, by course, Neither is better, neither worse. But I deny they are the same, 1275 More than a maggot and I anj. That both are animalia I grant, but not rationalia : For though they do agree in kind, Specific difference we find ; 1280 And can no more make bears of these, Than prove my horse is Socrates. That synods are bear-gardens too, Thou dost affirm : but I say. No : And thus I prove it in a word ; 1285 Whats'ever assembly's not impow'r'd To censure, curse, absolve, and ordain Can be no synod : but bear-garden Has no such pow'r ; ergo, 'tis none : And so thy sophistry's o'erthrown. 1290 But yet we are beside the question Which thou didst raise the first contest on ; For that was, Wliether bears are better Than synod-men ? I say, Negatur, That bears are beasts, and synods men, 1295 Is held by all : they're better then ; For bears and dogs on four legs go, As beasts, but synod-men on Two. 'Tis true, they all have teeth and nails ; But prove that synod-men have tails ; 1300 Or that a rugged, shaggy fur Grows o'er the hide of presbyter; Or that his snout and spacious ears Do hold proportioTi wilh a bear's. PART 1.— CANTO III. 99 A boar's w savafre beast, of all 1305 Most ugly ind unnatural ; Whelp'd without form, until the dam Has lickM it into shape and frame : But all thy light can ne'er evict, That ever synod man was lick'd, 1310 Or brought to any other fashion Than his own will and inclination. But thou dost farther yet in this Oppugn thyself and sense ; that is, Thou would'st have presbyters to go 1315 For bears and dogs, and bear-wards too ; A strange chimera of beasts and men, Made up of pieces heterogene ; Such as in nature never met In eodem subjecto yet. 1320 Thy other arguments are ail Supposures, hypothetical. That do but beg, and we may choose Either to grant them, or refuse. Much thou hast said, which I know when 1325 And where thou stol'st from other men. Whereby 'tis plain thy light and gifts Are all but plagiary shifts ; And is the same that Ranter said. Who, arguing with me, broke my head, 1330 And tore a handful of my beard : The self-same cavils then I heard, When, b'ing in hot dispute about This controversy, we fell out : And what thou know'st 1 answered then, 1335 Will serve to answer thee agen. Quoth Ralpho, Nothing but th' abuse Of human learning you produce ; Learning, that cobweb of the brain. Profane, erroneous, and vain ; 1340 A trade of knowledge, as replete As others are with fraud and cheat ; An art t' incumber gifts and wit. And render botli for nothing fit ; Makes light unactivc, dull, and troubled, 1345 Like liltle David in SauFs doul)let : 100 HUDIBRAS. A cheat that scholars put upon Other men's reason and their own ; A fort of error, to ensconce Absurdity and ignorance ; • 1350 That renders all the avenues To truth impervious and abstruse, By making plain things, in debate, By art perplexed and intricate : For nothing goes for sense or light, 1355 That will not with old rules jump right: As if rules were not in the schools Derived from truth, hut truth from rules. This Pagan heathenish invention Js good for nothing but contention. 1360 For as, in sword and buckler fight, All blows do on tlie target light ; So when men argue, the greafst part O' th' contest falls on terms of art, Until the fustian stuff be spent, 1365 And then they fall to th' argument. Quoth Hudibras, Friend Ralph, thou hast Outrun the constable at last : For thou art fallen on a new Dispute, as senseless as untrue, 1370 But to tile former opposite And contrary as black to white ; Mere desparata ; that concerning Presbytery; this, human learning; Two things s' averse, they never yet 1375 But in thy rambling fancy met. But I shall take a fit occasion T' evince thee by ratiocination, Some other time, in place more proper Than this we're in ; tlierefore lets stop here, And rest our weary 'd bones a while, 1381 Already tir'd with other toil. 1373. Disparata are things separate and unlike, from tJie Latin word dispare. lui PART II.— CANTO 1. The Knight, by damnable magician, Being cast illegally in prison, Love brings flis action on the case, And lays it upon Hudibras. How he receives the Lady's visit, And cunningly solicits his suit, Which he deters ; yet on parole Redeems him from th' enchanted hole. But now t' observe romantic method, Let bloody steel awhile be sheathed ; And all those harsh and rugged sounds Of bastinadoes, cuts, and wounds, Exchang'd to Love's more gentle style, 5 To let our reader breathe a while : In which, that we may be as brief as Is possible, by way of preface, Is't not enough to make one strange. That some men's fancies should ne'er change,10 But make all people do and say The same things still the self-same way .'' Some writers make all ladies purloin'd, And knights pursuing like a whirlwind : Others make all their knights, in fits 15 Of jealousy, to lose their wits ; Till drawing blood o' th' dames, like witches, Th' are forthwith cur'd of their capriches. Some always thrive in their amours, By pulling plaisters off their sores : 20 As cripples do to get an alms, .lust so do the3% and win their dames. Some force whole regions, in despite O' geography, to change their site ; Make former times shake hands with latter, 25 And that which was before come after. 1. The beginning of this Second Part may perhaps Foem strange and abrupt to those who do not know that it was written on purpose in imitation of Virgil, who be- (.rins the I Vth Book of his iEneid? in the very same man- lier, 'At Regina gravi,' &c. And this is enough to satis- fy tlie curiosity of those who believe that invention and fdncy ought to be measured (like cases in law) by pre- cedents, or else they are in the power of the critic 102 HUDIBRAS. But ilioso tliat write in rhyme, still make The one verse for the other's sake ; "For one for sense, and one for rhyme, I think's sufficient at one time. 30 But we forget in what sad plight We whilom left the captive Knight And pensive Squire, both bruisM in body, And conjured into safe custody. Tir'd with dispute and speaking Latin, 35 As well as basting and bear-baiting, And desperate of any course. To free himself by wit or force. His only solace was, that now His dog-bolt fortune was so low, 40 That either it must quickly end, Or turn about again, and mend ; In which he found th' event, no less Than other times, beside his guess. There is a tall long-sided dame, tS (But wondrous light,) ycleped Fame, That, like a thin cameleon, boards Herself on air, and eats her words ; Upon her shoulders wings she wears Like hanging sleeves lin'd through with ears, 50 And eyes, and tongues, as poets list, Made good by deep mythologist : With these she through the welkin flies, And sometimes carries truth, oft lies; With letters hung, like eastern pigeons, 55 And mercuries of farthest regions; Diurnals writ for regulation Of lying, to inform the nation ; And by their public use to bring down The rate of whetstones in the kingdom. 60 About her neck a pacquet-mail. Fraught with advice, some fresh, some stale. Of men that walk'd when they were dead. And cows of monsters brought to bed ; Of hail-stones big as pullets' eggs, 65 And puppies' whelp 'd with twice two legs ; A blazing-star seen in the west, By six or seven men at least. PART II.— CANTO I. 103 Two trumpets she doth sound at once^ But both of clean contrary tones ; 70 But whether both in the same wind, Or one before, and one behind, We know not ; only this can tell, Tlie one sounds vilely, th' other well ; And therefore vulgar authors name 75 Th' one Good, th' other Evil, Fame. This tattling gossip knew too well What miscliief Hudibras befel, And straight the spiteful tidings bears Of all to th' unkind widow's ears. 80 Democritus ne'er laugh'd so loud, To see bawdd carted through the crowd, Or funerals with stately pomp March slowly on in solemn dump, As she laugh'd out, until her back, 85 As well as sides, was hke to crack. She vow'd she would go see the sight, And visit the distressed Knight ; To do the office of a neighbour. And be a gossip at his labour ; 90 And from his wooden jail, the stocks, To set at large his fetter-locks ; And by exchange, parole, or ransom, To free him from th' enchanted mansion, This b'ing resolv'd, she call'd for hood 95 And usher, implements abroad Which ladies wear, beside a slender Young waiting-damsel to attend her. All which appearing, on she went, To find the Knight in limbo pent : 100 And 'twas not long before she found Him, and the stout Squire, in the pound ; Both coupled in enchanted tether, By farther leg behind together. For as he sat upon his rump, 105 His head, like one in doleful dump. Between his knees, his hands apply'd Unto his ears on either side. And by him, in another hole, Afflicted Ralpho, cheek by jowl ; 110 104 HUDIBRAS. She camo upon him hi his wooden Magician ''s circle, on the sudden, As spirits do t'' a conjuror, WJien in their dreadful shapes th' appear. No sooner did the Knight perceive her, 115 But straight he fell into a fever, Intiani'd all over with disgrace. To be seen by her in such a place ; Which made him hang his head, and scowl, And wink and goggle like an owl. 120 He. felt his brains begin to swim. When thus the dame accosted him : This place (quoth she) they say's enchanted, And with delinquent spirits haunted. That here are ty'd in chains, and scourg'd, 125 Until their guilty crimes be purg'd : Look, there are two of them appear. Like persons I have seen somewhere. Some having mistaken blocks and posts For spectres, apparitions, ghosts, 130 With saucer eyes, and horns ; and some Have heard the devil beat a drum ; But if our eyes are not false glasses, That give a wrong account of faces. That beard and T should be acquainted, 135 Before 'twas conjur'd or enchanted ; For though it be disfigur'd somewhat, As if 't had lately been in combat, jt did belong to a worthy knight, Howe'er this goblin has come by't. 140 When Hudibras the lady heard Discoursing thus upon his beard. And speak with such respect and honour Both of the beard and the beard's owner. He thought it best to set as good 145 A face upon it as he cou'd. And thus he spoke : Lady, your bright And radiant eyes are in the right : The beard's th' identic beard you knew, The same numerically true ; 150 Nor is it worn by fiend or elf, But its proprietor himself. PART II.— CANTO I. 105 O heavens ! quoth she, can that be true ? I do begin to fear "tis you : Not by your individual whiskers, 155 But by your dialect and discourse, That never spok^ to man or beast In notions vulgarly exprest. But what malignant star, alas ! Has brought you both to this sad pass? 160 Quoth he, The fortune of tlie war, Which I am less afflicted for, Than to be seen with beard and face. By you in such a homely case. Quoth she, Those need not be ashara'd 165 For being honourably maim'd ; If he that is in battle conquered Have any title to his own beard, Though yours be sorely lugg'd and torn, It does your visage more adorn 170 Than if 'twere prun'd, and starch'd, and lan- And cut square by the Russian standard, [der'd, A torn beard's hke a tatter'd ensign, That's bravest which there are most rents in. That petticoat about your shoulders 175 Does not so well become a soldier's ; And I'm afraid they are worse handled, Although i' th' rear, your beard the van led ; And those uneasy bruises make My heart for company to ake, 180 To see so worshipful a friend I' th' pillory set, at the wrong end. Quoth Hudibras, This thing call'd pain Is (as the learned Stoics maintain) Not bad simpliciter, nor good, 185 But merely as 'tis understood. Sense is deceitful, and many feign As well in counterfeiting pain As other gross phenomenas. In which it oft mistakes the case. 190 But since th' immortal intellect (That's free from error and defect, Whose objects still persist the same) Is free from outward bruise and maim, F2 106 HUDIBRAS. Which nought external can expose 195 To ^ross material bangs or blows, It follows we can ne'er be sure Whether we pain or not endure ; And just so far are sore and griev'd, As by the fancy is bclievM. 200 ^ome have been wounded with conceit, And died of mere opinion straight; Others, tho' wounded sore in reason. Felt no contusion, nor discretion. A Saxon duke did grow so fat, 205 The mice (as histories relate) Eat grots and labyrinths to dwell in Hi.s postic parts, without his feeling : Then how is't possible a kick Should e'er reach that way to the quick? 21Q Quoth she, I grant it is in vain For one that's basted to feel pain. Because the pangs his bones endure Contribute nothing to the cure : Yet Jionour hurt is wont to rage 215 With pain no med'cine can assuage. Quoth he. That honour's very squeamish That takes a basting for a blemish ; For what's more hon'rable than scars, Or skin to tatters rent in wars ? 220 Some have been beaten till they know What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow ; Some kick'd until they can feel whether A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather ; And yet have met, after long running, 225 With some whom tiiey have taught that cun- Tlie farthest way about t' o'ercome, [ning. In th' end docs prove the nearest home. By laws of learned duellists. They that are bruis'd with wood or fists, 230 And tliink one beating may for once Suffice, are cowards and paltroons : Bat if they dare engage t' a second. They're stout and gallant fellows reckon'd. 'SO.'). The Wstory of the Dukf! af Saxony is not so straime as that of a bisliop, his countryman, who was djiitte eattn up witli rats und mice. PART II.— CANTO I. 107 Th' old Romans freedom did bestow, 235 Our princes worship, with a blow. King Pyrrhus cur'd his splenetic And testy courtiers with a kick. The Negus, when some mighty lord Or potentate's to be restored, 240 And pardonM for some great offence, With which he's willing to dispense. First has liim laid upon his belly. Then beaten back aud side to a jelly ; That done, he rises, humbly bows, 245 And gives thanks for the princely blows ; Departs not meanly proud, and boasting Of his magnificent rib-roasting. The beaten soldier proves most manful, That, like his sword, endures the anvil, 250 And justly 's held more formidable, The more his valour's malleable : But he that fears a bastinado Will run away from his own shadow : And though Fm now in durance fast, 255 r?y our own party basely cast. Ransom, exchange, parole refus'd, And worse than by the en 'my us'd : In close catasta shut, past hope Of wit or valour to elope ; 260 As beards the nearer that they tend To th' earth still grow more reverend , And cannons shoot the higher pitches, The lower we let down their breeches ; I'll make this low dejected fate 265 Advance me to a greater height. Quoth she, Y' have almost made me in love With that which did ray pity move. Oreat wits and valours, like great states, Do sometimes sink with their own weights : 270 2^7. Pyrrliiis, kinf; of Epiriis, as Piiny says, had this •icciilt quality in histof, ' Fnliici;; in dextro i)ede tactu lieimsis iiiedel)aiur,' i. 7. r. 11. 953. Caiasia is luit a pan of storks in English. But Iifrnical poetry must no; ailinn nfany vulvar word (rspi^ cially ofpaltry Kijinificaiiim,) and ilieieioie sfitiip of our nifidern aiilhoisare fai^i H'iMi[ial a just fear, lest you should prove False and perfidious in love : 550 i^'or if I thought you could be true, 1 could love twice as much as you. Quoth he. My faith, as adamantine As chains of destiny, I'll maintain : True as Apollo ever spoke, 555 Or oracle from heart of oak : And if you'll give my flame but vent, Now in"close hugger-mugger pent, And shine upon me but benignly, With that one and that other pigsney, 560 The sun and day shall sooner part. Than love of you shake off my heart ; The sun, that shall no more dispense His own, but your bright influence, ril carve your name on barks of trees, 565 With true-love's-knots and flourishes, That shall infuse eternal spring. And everlasting flourishing ; Drink ev'ry letter on't in stum, And make it brisk champagne become : 570 Where'er you tread, your foot shall set The primrose and the violet : All spices, perfumes, and sweet powders, Shall borrow from your breath their odours : ■ Nature her charter shall renew, 575 And take all lives of things from you ; The world depend upon your eye. And when you frown upon it, die : Only our loves shall still survive, New worlds and natures to outlive, 580 And, like to heralds' moons, remain All crescents, without change or wane. 536. .lupiter's oracle in Epirus, near the city of Dodo- na, ' Ubi nemus erat Jovi sacrum. Querneum totum, in quo Jovis DodonaM teinplum fuisse nanatur.' 116 HUDIBRAS. Hold, hold, quoth she; no more of this, Sir Knight ; you take your aim amiss : For you will find it a hard chapter 585 To catch me with poetic rapture, In which your mastery of art Doth shew itself, and not your heart : Nor will you raise in mine combustion By dint of high heroic fustian. 590 She that with poetry is won, Is but a desk to write upon ; And what men say of her, they mean No more than on the thing they lean. Some with Arabian spices strive 595 T' embalm her cruelly alive ; Or season her, as French cooks use Their haut-gouts, bouillies, or ragouts : Use her so barbarously ill. To grind her lips upon a mill, 600 Until the facet doublet doth Fit their rhymes rather than her mouth : Her mouth comparM to an oyster's, with A row of pearl in't — 'stead of teeth. Others make posies of her cheeks, 605 "Where red and whitest colours mix ; In which the lily, and the rose, For Indian lake and ceruse goes. The sun and moon by her bright eyes Eclips'd and darken'd in the skies, 610 Are but black patches, that she wears, Cut into suns, and moons, and stars : By which astrologers, as well As those in heav'n above, can tell What strange events they do foreshow 615 Unto her under-world below. Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortals' ears. As wise philosophers have thought ; And that's the cause we hear it not. 620 This has been done by some, who those Th' ador'd in rhyme would kick in prose ; And in those ribbons would have hung, Of which melodiously they sung ; PART II.— CANTO I. 117 That have the hard fate to write best 625 Of those still that deserve it least ; It matters not how false or forc'd, So the best things be said o' th' worst : It goes for nothing when 'tis said ; Only the arrow's drawn to th' head, 630 "Whether it be a swan or goose They level at : so shepherds use To set the same mark on the hip Both of their sound and rotten sheep : For wits, that carry low or wide, 635 Must be aim'd higher, or beside The mark, which else they ne'er come nigh. But when they take their aim awry. But I do wonder you should choose This way t' attack me with your Muse, 640 As one cut out to pass your tricks on, With fulhams of poetic fiction; I rather hop'd I should no more Hear from you o' th' gallanting score : For hard dry-bastings us'd to prove 645 The readiest remedies of love ; Next a dry-diet ; but if those fail, Yet this uneasy loop-holM jail, In which y' are hamper'd by the fetlock, Cannot but put y' in mind of wedlock : 650 Wedlock, that's worse than any hole here, If that may serve you for a cooler ; T' allay your mettle, all agog Upon a wife, the heavier clog : Nor rather thank your gentler fate, 655 That for a bruis'd or broken pate Has freed you from those knobs that grow Much harder on the marry 'd brow ; But if no dread can cool your courage, From venturing on that dragon, marriage, 6G0 let give me quarter, and advance lo nobler aims your puissance : Level at beauty and at wit ; The fairest mark is easiest hit. Quoth Hudibras, I'm beforehand 665 In tJiat already, with your command ; 118 HUDIBRAS. For where does beauty and high wit But, in your constellation meet ? Quoth she, What does a match imply, But likeness and equality? 670 I know you cannot think me fit To be th' yoke-fellow of your wit ; Nor take one of so mean deserts, To be the partner of your parts ; A grace, which, if I cou'd believe, 675 I've not the conscience to receive. That conscience, quoth Hudibras, Is misinform'd : Fll state the case : A man may be a legal donor Of any thing whereof he's owner, 680 And may confer it where he lists, 1' til' judgment of all casuists ; Then wit, and parts, and valour, may Be aii'nated, and made away, By those that are proprietors, 685 As I may give or sell my horse. Quoth she, I grant the case is true. And proper 'twixt your horse and you ; But whether I may take as well As you may give away or sell ? 690 Buyers, you know, are bid beware ; And worse than thieves receivers are. How shall I answer hue and cry, _. For a roan-gelding, twelve hand& high, All spurr'd and switched, a lock on 's hoof, 695 A sorrel mane? Can I bring proof Where, when, by whom, and what y' were sold And in the open market toird for ?, [for, Or should I take you for a stray, You must be kept a year and day 700 (Ere I can own you) here i' th' pound, Where, if y' are sought, you may 'be found : And in the meantime 1 must pay For all your provender and hay. Quotli he, It stands me much upon 705 T' enervate this objection, And prove myself, by topic clear, No gelding, as you would infer. PART II.— CANTO I. 119 Loss of virility's averr'd To be the cause of loss of beard, 710 That does (like embryo in the womb) Abortive on the chin become. This first a womari did invent, In envy of man's ornament; Semiramis of Babylon, 715 Who first of all cut men o' th' stone. To mar their beards, and lay foundation Of sow-geldering operation. Look on this beard, and tell me whether Eunuchs wear such, or geldings either ? 720 Next it appears I am no horse ; That I can argue and discourse ; Have but two legs, and ne'er a tail. Quoth she, That nothing will avail ; For some philosophers of late here, 725 Write men have four legs by nature, And that 'tis custom makes them go Erron'ously upon but two ; As 'twas in Germany made good B' a boy that lost himself in a wood, 730 And growing down t' a man, was wont NVith wolves upon all four to hunt. As for your reasons drawn from tails, We cannot say they're true or false. Till you explain yourself, and shew, 735 W experiment, 'tis so or no. Quoth he. If you'll join issue on't, rU give you sati^actory account; So yoa will promise, if you lose. To settle ail, and be my spouse. 740 715. Semiramis, queen of A sjiyria, is said to be the first that invented eunuche. ' Semiraniis teneros mares castravit omiiiiun prima' Am. Marcel 1. 34. p. 12. Which is something strange in a lady of her constitu- tion, who is said to have received horses into her em- braces; but that, perhaps, may be the reason why she afterwards thought men not worth the while. 725. Sir K. D in his Book of Bodies, who has this story of the German Boy, which he endeavours lo make good by several natural reasons ; by which tiiose who have the dexterity to beheve what they pleabe may be «ully 6aliafied of the probability of it. 120 HUDIBRAS. That never shall be done (quoth she) To one that wants a tail, by me : For tails by nature sure were meant, As well as beards for ornament : And though the vulgar count them homely, 745 In men or beast they are so comely, So jantee, alamode, and handsome, I'll never marry man that wants one ; And till you can demonstrate plain, You have one equal to your mane, 759 I'll be torn piecemeal by a horse. Ere ril take you for better or worse. The Prince of Cambay's daily food Is asp, and basilisk, and toad. Which makes him have so strong a breath, 755 Each night he stinks a queen to death ; Yet I shall rather lie in 's arms Than yours, on any other terms. Quoth he, What nature can afford I shall produce, upon my word ; 760 And if she ever gave that boon To man, I'll prove that I have one ; I mean by postulate illation, When you shall offer just occasion : But since y' have yet deny'd to give 765 My heart, your pris'ner, a reprieve, But make it sink down to my heel. Let that at least your pity feel ; And, for the sufferings of your martyr. Give its poor entertainer quarter ; 770 And, by discharge or mainprize, grant Deliv'ry from this base restraint. Quoth she, I grieve to see your leg Stuck in a hole here like a peg ; A nd if I knew which way to do't, 775 (Your honour safe) I'd let you out. That dames by jail delivery Of errant-knights have been set free,' When by enchantment they have been, And sometimes for it, too, laid in, 780 Is that whicli kniglits are bound to do By order, oath, and honour too : PART IL— CANTO I. 121 For what are they rcnown'd and famous else, But aiding of distressed damosels? But for a lady, no ways errant, 785 To free a knight, we have no warrant In any autlientical romance, Or classic author yet of France ; And I'd be loth to have you break An ancient custom for a freak, 790 Or innovation introduce In place of things of antique use, To free your heels by any course. That might b' unwholesome to your spurs ; Which, if I should consent unto, 795 It is not in my powV to do; For 'tis a service must be done ye With solemn previous ceremony, Which always has been us'd t' untie Tlie charms of those who here do lie : 800 For as the ancients heretofore To Honour's temple had no door But that which through Virtue's lay, So from this dungeon there's no way To honour'd freedom, but by passing 905 That other virtuous school of lashing, Where knights are kept in narrow lists, With wooden lockets 'bout their wrists ; In which they for a while are tenants, And for their ladies suffer penance : 810 Whipping, that's Virtue's governess, Tut'ress of arts and sciences ; That mends the gross mistakes of Nature, And puts new life into dull matter ; That lays foundation for renown, 815 And all the honours of the gown. This suffer'd, they are set at large, And freed with hon'rable discharge. Then in their robes the penitentials Are straight presented with credentials, 820 And in their way attended on By magistrates of ev'ry town : And, all respect and charges paid, They're to their ancient seats convey'd. G 122 HUDIBRAS. Now if you'll venture, for my sake, 825 To try the touglmess of your back, And suffer (as the rest have done) The laying of a whipping on (And may you prosper in your suit, As you with equal vigour do't,) 830 I here engage myself to loose ye, And free your heels from Caperdewsie. But since our sex's modesty Will not allow I should be by, Bring me, on oath, a fair account, 835 And honour too, when you have done't. And I'll admit you to the place You claim as due in my good grace. If matrimony and hanging go By dest'ny, why not whipping too ? 840 What med'cine else can cure the fits Of lovers when they lose their wits ? Love is a boy by poets styl'd ; Then spare the rod, and spoil the child. A Persian emperor whipp'd his grannara, 845 The sea, his mother Venus came on ; And hence some rev'rend men approve Of rosemary in making love. As skilful coopers hoop their tubs With Lydian and with Phrygian dubs, 850 Why may not whipping have as good A grace ? perform'd in time and mood, With comely movement, and by art, liaise passion in a lady's heart? It is an easier way to make 855 Love by, than that which many take. Who would not rather suffer v/hipping, Than swallow toasts of bits of ribbon? Make wicked verses, treats, and faces, And spell names over with beer-glasses ; 860 Be under vows to hang and die Love's sacrifice, and all a lie ? With China-oranges, and tarts, And whining plays, lay baits for hearts ? 845. Xerxes, who used to whip the seas and wind. ' In eorum atque Eurum solitus saevire flagellis.' Juv Sat. 10. PART II.— CANTO *!. 123 Bribe chamber-maids, with love and money, 865 To break no roguish jests upon ye? For hUes hmnM on cheeks, and roses, With painted perfumes, hazard noses? Or, venturing to be brisk and wanton, Do penance in a paper lantern ? 870 AU tliis you may compound for now, By suffering what I offer you ; Which is no more than has been done By knights for ladies long agone. Did not the great La Mancha do so 875 For the Infanta del Toboso ? Did not til' illustrious Bassa make Himself a slave for Miss's sake ? And witli bull's pizzle, for her love, Was taw'd as gentle as a glove ? 880 Was not young Florio sent (to cool His flame for Biancaliore) to school, Where' pedant made his pathic bum For her sake suffer martyrdom ? Did not a certain lady whip 885 Of late her husband's own lordship? And though a grandee of the house, Claw'd him with fundamental blows ; TyM him stark naked to a bed-post, And firkM his hide, as if sh' had rid post ; 890 And after in the sessions-court, Where whipping's judg'd, had honour for't ; This swear you will perform and then rU set you from the enchanted den. And the magician's circle clear. 895 Quoth he, I do profess and swear, And will perform what you enjoin. Or may I never see you mine. Amen (quoth she ;) then turn'd about, And bid her Squire let him out, 900 But ere an artist could be foimd T' undo the charms another bound, The sun grew low, and left the skies. Put down (some write) by ladies' eyes. The moon puU'd off her veil of light, 905 That hides her face by day from sight 124 . HUDIBRAS. (Mysterious veil, of brightness made, That's both her lustre and her shade,) And in the lantern of the nio-ht With shining horns hung out her light ; 910 For darkness is the proper sphere, Where all false glories use t' appear. The twinkling stars began to muster, And glitter with their borrow'd lustre, While sleep the wearyM world relievM, 915 By counterfeiting death reviv'd. His whipping penance till the morn Our vot'ry thouglit it best t' adjourn, And not to carry on a work Of such importance in the dark, 920 With erring haste, but rather stay, And do't in the open face of day ; And in the mean time go in quest Of next retreat to take his rest. CANTO II. The Knight and Squire, in liot dispute, Within an ace of tailing out, Are parted with a sudden fright Of strange alarm, and stranger sight; With which adventuring to stickle, They're sent away in nasty pickle. 'Tis strange how some men's tempers sui. (Like bawd and brandy) with dispute. That for their own opinions stand fast Only to have them claw'd and canvast; That keep their consciences in cases, 5 As fiddlers do their crowds and bases. Ne'er to be us'd but when they're bent To play a fit for argument ; Make true and false, unjust and just, Of no use but to be discust ; IG Dispute, and set a paradox Like a strait boot upon the stocks. And stretch it more unmercifully Than Helmont, Montaigne, While, or Tnlly, FART H.—CAiNTO II. 125 So til' ancient Stoics, in their porch, 15 With fierce dispute maintained their church ; Beat out their brains in fight and study, To prove that virtue is a body ; That bonum is ah animal, Made good with stout polemic brawl ; 20 In which some hundreds on the place Were slain outright ; and many a face Retrenched of nose, and eyes, and beard. To maintain what their sect averr'd. All which the Knight and Squire, in wrath, 25 Had like V have suffered for their faith ; Each striving to make good his own, As by the sequel shall be shown. The sun had long since, in the lap Of Thetis, taken out his nap, 30 And, hke a lobster boifd, the morn From black to red began to turn, When Hudibras, whom tlioughts and aking 'Twixt sleeping kept all night and waking, Began to rub his drowsy eyes, 35 And from his couch prepar'd to rise. Resolving to dispatch the deed He vow'd to do with trusty speed : But first, with knocking loud, and bawling, He rous'd the Squire, in truckle lolling : 40 And, after many circumstances. Which vulgar authors, in romances. Do use to spend their time and wits on, To make impertinent description. They got (with much ado) to horse, 45 And to the castle bent their course. In which he to the dame before To suffer whipping duly swore ; 15. ' [n porticu (Stoicorum Schola Athenis) discipu- lorum sedilionibus mille quadringenti triginta cives in- terfecti sunt.' Diog. Laert. in vita Zenonis, p. 383. Those old virtuosos were betler proficients in these ex- ercises than modern, who seldom improve higher than cuffing and kicking. 19. Bonum issuch akindof animal as ourmodern vir- tuosi from Don Quixote will have windmills, under sail, to be. The same authors are of opinion, that all ships are fishes while they are afloat ; but when they are run on ground, or laid up in the dock, becoTiie ships again. 126 HUDIBRAS. Where now arrived, and Iialf unhamest, To carry on the work in earnest, 50 lie sto[)|)'d, and paus'd upon the sudden, And with a serious forehead plodding, Sprung a new scruple in his head, Whicli first he scratches and after said — AVIiether it be direct infringing 55 An oath, if I should wave this swingeing, And what I've sworn to bear, forbear, And so b' equivocation swear. Or whether it be a lesser sin To be forsworn than act the thing, 60 Are deep and subtle points, which must, T' inform my conscience, be discust; }n which to err a little may To errors infinite make way : And therefore I desire to know 65 Thy judgment ere we farther go. Quoth Ralpho, Since you do enjoin't, I shall enlarge upon the point ; And, for my own part, do not doubt Th' affirmative may be made out. 70 l>ut first, to state the case aright, For best advantage of our Hght, And thus 'tis : Whether 't be a sin To claw and curry your own skin. Greater or less, than to forbear, T5 And that you are forsworn, forswear. But first, o' th' first : The inward man, And outward, like a clan and clan. Have always been at daggers-drawing. And one another clapper-clawing. 80 Not that they really cuflt", or fence. But in a spiritual mystic sense ; Which to mistake, and make 'em squabble, In literal fray 's abominable. "'Tis heathenish, in frequent use 85 With Pagans and apostate Jews, To offer sacrifice of bridewells. Like modern Indians to their idols ; And mongrel Christians of our times. That expiate less with greater crimes, 90 PART II.— CANTO II. 127 And call the foul abomination Contrition and mortification. Is 't not enougli we're bruis'd and kicked With .sinful members of the wicked ; Our vessels, that are sanctify Vl, 95 Profan'd and curry 'd back and side ; But we must claw ourselves with shameful And heathen stripes, by their example ; Which (were there nothing to forbid it) Is impious, because they did it : 100 This, therefore, may be justly reckoned A heinous sin. Now to the second : That saints may claim a dispensation To swear and forswear, on occasion, I doubt not but it will appear 105 With pregnant light : the point is clear. Oaths are but words, and words but wind ; Too feeble implements to bind ; And hold with deeds proportion so As shadows to a substance do. 110 Then when they strive for place, 'tis fit The weaker vessel should submit. Although your church be opposite To ours as Black Friars are to White, In rule and order, yet I grant, 115 You are a Reformado Saint ; And what the saints do claim as due, You may pretend a title to : But saints whom oaths and vows oblige, Know little of their privilege ; 120 Farther (I mean) than carrying on Some self-advantage of their own ; For if the dev'l, to serve his turn, Can tell truth, why the saints should scorn, When it serves theirs, to swear and lie, 125 I think there's little reason why : Else h' has a greater power than they, Which 'twere impiety to say. W are not commanded to forbear Indefinitely at all to swear ; 130 But to swear idly, and in vain, Without self-interest or gain : m HUDIBIIAS. For breakincp of an oalh, and lying, Is but a kind of self-denying; A saint-like virtue : and from hence 135 Some have broke oaths by Providence ; Some, to the glory of tlie Lord, Perjur'd themselves, and broke their word ; And this the constant rule and practice Of all our late Apostles'' acts is. 140 Was not the cause at first begun With perjury, and carried on? Was there an oath the godly took, But in due time and place they broke ? Did we not bring our oaths in first, 145 Before our plate, to liave them burst, And cast in fitter models for The present use of church and war? Did not our worthies of the house, Before they broke the peace, break vows ? 150 For having freed us first from both Th' allegiance and supremacy oath. Did they not next compel the nation To take and break the protestation ? To swear, and after to recant 155 The solemn league and covenant? To take th' engagement, and disclaim it, Enforc'd by those who first did frame it ? Did they not swear, at first, to fight For the king's safety and his right, 160 And after march'd to find him out, And chargM him home with horse and foot ; But yet still had the confidence To swear it was in his defence . Did they not swear to live and die 165 With Essex, and straight laid him by ? If that were all, for some have swore As false as they, if th' did no more. Did they not swear to maintain law, In which that swearing made a flaw ? 170 For Protestant religion vow. That did that vowing disallow ? For privilege of Parliament, In which that swearing made a rent '* PART II.— CANTO IT. 129 And since, of all the three, not one 175 Is left in being, 'tis well known. Did they not swear, in express words, To prop and back the House of Lords, And after turned out the whole house-full Of peers, as dangerous and unuseful.'' 180 So Cromwell, with deep oaths and vows, Swore all the Cgmmons out o' th' House ; VowM that the red-coats would disband, A}', marry wouVl they, at their command ; And troird them on, and swore, and swore, 185 Till th' army turned them out of door. This tells us plainly what they thought, That oaths and swearing go for nought, And that by them th' were only meant To serve for an expedient. 190 What was the public faith found out for. But to slur men of what they fought for ? The public faith, which ev'ry one Is bound t' observe, yet kept by none ; And if that go for nothing, why 195 Should private faith have such a tie ? Oaths were not purposed, more than law, To keep the good and just in awe, But to confine the bad aiid sinful, Like moral cattle, in a pinfold. 300 A saint 's of th' heav'nly realm a peer ; And as no peer is bound to swear, But on the gospel of his honour, Of which he may dispose as owner It follows, though the thing be forgery, 205 And false, t' affirm it is no perjury, But a mere ceremony, and a breach Of nothing, but a form of speech ; And goes for no more when 'tis took, Than mere saluting of the book. 210 Suppose the Scriptures are of force. They're but commissions of course, And saints have freedom to digress. And vary from 'em, as they please; Or misinterpret them, by private 215 Instructions, to all aims they drive at. C f2 130 HUDIBRAS. Then why shovild we ourselves abridge And curtail our own privilege .'' Quakers (that, like to lanterns, bear Their lio-ht within 'em) will not sv»?^ear : 220 Their o-ospel is an accidence, By which they construe conscience, And hold no sin so deeply red. As that of breaking Priscian's head (The head and founder of their order, 225 That stirring hats held worse than murder) ; These thinking th' are obliged to troth In swearing, will not take an oath : Like mules, who, if tir have not their will To keep their own pace, stand stock-still : 230 But they are weak, and little know What free-born consciences may do. 'Tis the temptation of the devil That makes all human actions evil: For saints may do the same things by 235 The Spirit, in sincerity, Which other men are tempted to, And at the devil'^ instance do ; And yet the actions be contrary. Just as the saints and wicked vary. 240 For as on land there is no beast But in some fish at sea 's exprest, So in the wicked there's no vice Of which the saints have not a spice ; And yet that thing that's pious in 245 The one, in th' other is a sin. Is't not ridiculous, and nonsense, A saint should be a slave to conscience, That ought to be above such fancies, As far as above ordinances? 250 She's of the wicked, as I guess, B' her looks, her language, and her dress : And though, like constables, we search, For false wares, one another's church, Yet all of us hold this for true, 255 No faith is to the wicked due : For truth is precious and divine ; Too rich a pearl for carnal swine. PART II.-CANTO II. 131 Quoth Hudibras, All this is true ; Yet 'tis not fit that all men knew 260 Those mysteries and revelations ; And therefore topical evasions Of subtle turns and shifts of sense Serve best with th' wicked for pretence ; Such as the learned Jesuits use, 265 And Presbyterians, for excuse Against the Protestants, when th' happen To find their churches taken napping ; As thus : A breach of oath is duple, And either way admits a scruple, 270 And may be ex parte of the maker. More criminal than the injur'd taker ; For he that strains too far a vow, Will break it, hke an o'er-bent bow : And he that made, and forc'd it, broke it, 275 Not he that for convenience took it. A broken oath is, quatenus oath. As sound t' all purposes of troth. As broken laws are ne'er the worse ; Nay, till th' are broken have no force. 280 What's justice to a man, or laws. That never comes within their claws? They have no pow'r, but to admonish ; Cannot control, coerce, or punish ; Until they're broken, and then touch 285 Those only that do make 'em such. Beside, no engagement is allow'd By men in prison made for good ; For when they're set at liberty. They're from th' engagement too set free. 290 The rabbins write, when any Jew Did make to God or man, a vow, Which afterward he found untoward, And stubborn to be kept, or too hard, Any three other Jews o' th' nation 295 Mi w-ht free him from the obligation ; And have not two saints pow'r to use A greater privilege than three Jews ? The court of conscience, which in man Should be supreme and sovereign, 300 133 HUDIBRAS. Is't fit should be subordinate To ev'ry petty court i' th' state, And have less power than the lesser, To deal with perjury at pleasure ; Have its proceedings disallow'd, or 305 Allowed, at fancy of Pye-Powder ? Tell all it does, or does not know. For swearing ex-officio ? Be forc'd t' impeach a broken hedge, And pigs unring'd at Vis. Franc, Pledge? 310 Discover thieves, and bawds, recusants, Priests, witches, eves-droppers, and nuisance ; Tell who did play at games unlawful. And who fiU'd pots of ale but half full; And have no pow'r at all, no shift, 315, To help itself at a dead lift ? Why should not conscience have vacation As well as other courts o' th' nation ; Have equal power to adjourn. Appoint appearance and return : 320 And make as nice distinction servo To split a case, as those that carve. Invoking cuckolds' names, hit joints ? Why should not tricks as slight do points ? Is not th' High-Court of Justice sworn 325 To judge that law that serves their turn? Make their own jealousies high treason, And fix 'em whomsoe'er they please on? Cannot the learned counsel there Make laws in any shape appear ? 330 Mould 'em as witches do their clay. When they make pictures to destroy, And vex 'em into any form That fits their purpose to do harm ? Rack 'em until they do confess, 335 Impeach of treason whom they please, And most perfidiously condemn Those that engag'd their lives for them ? And yet do nothing in their own sense. But what they ought by oath and conscience. Can they not juggle, and with slight 341 Conveyance, play with wrong and right • PART IL— CANTO II. 13S And sell their blasts of wind as dear As Lapland witches bottled air ? Will not fear, favour, bribe, and grudge, 345 The same case several ways adjudge ? As seamen with the self-same gale, Will sev'ral diff'rent courses sail. As when the sea breaks o'er its bounds, And overflows the level grounds, 350 Those banks and dams, that, like a screen, Did keep it out, now keep it in ; So when tyrannic usurpation Invades the freedom of a nation. The laws o' th' land, that were intended 355 To keep it out, are made defend it. Does not in Chanc'ry evVy man swear What makes best for him in his answer ? Is not the winding up witnesses And nicking more than half the bus'ness ? 360 For witnesses, like watches, go Just as they're set, too fast or slow ; And where in conscience they're strait-Iac'd, 'Tis ten to one that side is cast. Do not your juries give their verdict 365 As if they felt the cause, not heard it r And as they please, make matter o' fact Run all on one side, as they're packt ? Nature has made man's breast no windores, To publish wliat he does within doors, 370 Nor what dark secrets there inhabit, Unless his own rash fury blab it. If oaths can do a man no good In his own bus'ness, why they should In other matters do him hurt, 375 I think there's little reason for't. Pie that imposes an oath makes it, Not he that for convenience takes it : Then how can any man be said To break an oath he never made ? 380^ These reasons may, perhaps, look oddly To the wicked, though th' evince the godly;. But if they will not serve to clear My honour, I am ne'er the near. 134 HUDIBRAS. Honour is like that glassy bubble 385 That finds philosophers such trouble, Whose least part crack'd, the whole does fly, And wits are cracked to find out why. Quoth Ralpho, Honour's but a word To swear by only in a lord : 390 In other men, 'tis but a huff To vapour with, instead of proof ; That, like a wen, looks big and swells, Is senseless, and just nothing else. Let it (quoth he) be what it will, 395 It has the world's opinion still. But as men are not wise that run The slightest hazards they may shun, There may a medium be found out To clear to all the world the doubt ; 400 And that is, if a man may do't, By proxy whipt, or substitute. Though nice and dark the point appear (Quoth Ralph,) it may hold up and clear. That sinners may supply the place 405 Of suff ring saints is a plain case. .Justice gives sentence many times On one man for another's crimes. Our brethren of New England use Choice malefactors to excuse, 410 And hang the guiltless in their stead. Of whom the churches have less need; As lately 't happened : In a town Tliere liv'd a cobbler, and but one, That out of doctrine could cut use, 415 And mend men's lives as well as shoes. This precious brother having slain, In time of peace, an Indian (Not out of malice, but mere zeal, Because he was an infidel,) 420 The mighty Tottipottymoy Sent to our elders an envoy, Complaining sorely of tlie breach Of league held forth by brother Patch 413. Tlie history of tlie cobbler had been auested by persons of good credit, who were upon the place when it was done. Ji PART II.— CANTO II. 135 Against the articles in force 425 Between both churches, his and ours ; For which he cravM the saints to render Into his hands or hang th' offender : But they maturely having weigh'd They had no more but him o' th' trade, 430 (A man that served them in a double Capacity, to teach and cobble), Resolved to spare him ; yet, to do The Indian Hoghgan Moghgan too Impartial justice, in his stead did 435 Hang an old weaver, that was bed-rid. Then wherefore may not you be skipp'd, And in your room another whipp'd? t'or all philosophers, but the sceptic, Hold whipping may be sympathetic. 440 It is enough, quoth Hudibras, ,. Thou hast resolv'd and cleared the case ; And canst, in conscience, not refuse From thy own doctrine to raise use. I know thou wilt not (for my sake) 445 Be tender conscienc'd of thy back : Then strip thee of thy carnal jerkin, And give thy outward-fellow a ferking ; For when thy vessel is new hoopM, All leaks of sinning will be stopp'd. 450 Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ; For in all scruples of this nature. No man includes himself, nor turns The point upon his own concerns. As no man of his own self catches 455 The itch, or amorous French aches ; So no man does himself convince, By his own doctrine, of his sins : And though all cry down self, none means His own self in a literal sense. 460 Beside, it is not only foppish, But vile, idolatrous and popish, For one man, out of his own skin, To ferk and whip another's sin ; As pedants out of school-boys' breeches 465 Do claw and curry their own itches. 136 HUDIBRAS. But in this case it is profane, And sinful too, because in vain : For we must take our oaths upon it, You did the deed, when I have done it, 470 Quoth Hudibras, Thafs answered soon : Give us the whip, we'll lay it on. Quoth Ralpho, That we may swear true, 'Tvvere properer that I whipp'd you : For when with your consent 'tis done, 475 The act is really your own. Quoth Hudibras, It is in vain (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain ; Or, like the stars, incline men to What they're averse themselves to do : 480 For when disputes are weary'd out, 'Tis interest still resolves the doubt : But since no reason can confute ye, I'll try to force you to your duty ; For so it is, howe'er you mince it, 485 As, ere we part, I shall evince it. And curry (if you stand out) whether You will or no, your stubborn leather. Canst thou refuse to bear thy part I' th' public work, base as thou art.-' 490 To higgle thus for a few blows. To gain thy knight an op'lent spouse, Whose wealth his bowels yearn to purchase, Merely for th' interest of the churches ? And when he has it in his claws 495 Will not be hide-bound to the cause : Nor shalt thou find him a curmudgeon. If thou dispatch it without grudging : If not, resolve, before we go. That you and I must pull a crow. 500 Y' had best, (quoth Ralpho) as the ancients Say wisely, have a care o' th' main chance, And look before you ere you leap ; For as you sow, y' are like to reap : And were y' as good as George-a-Green, 505 I shall make bold to turn agen : Nor am I doubtful of the issue In a just quarrel, and mine is so. PART II.— CANTO K. 137 Is 't filling for a man of honour To whip The saints, hke Bishop Bonner ? 510 A Knight t' usurp tiie beadle's office, For whicli y' are hke to raise brave trophies? But I advise you (not for fear,' But for your own sake) to forbear ; And for the churches, wJiich may chance, 515 From lience, to spring a variance, And raise among themselves new scruples, Whom common danger hardly couples. Remember how, in arms and politics, V/e still have worsted all your holy tricks ; 520 Trepanned your party with intrigue, And took your grandees down a peg; New modell'd th'' armv, and cashiered All that to legion SMEC adhered ; Made a mere utensil o' your church, 525 And after left it in the lurch ; A scaffold to build up our own, And, when w' had done with't, pulfd it down ; Capoch'd your rabbins of the synod, And snapp'd their canons with a why-not? 530 (Grave synod men, that were reverVl For solid face, and depth of beard ;) Their classic model prov'd a maggot, Their direct'ry an Indian Paged ; And drown'd their discipline like a kitten, 535 On which they'd been so long a sitting ; Decry 'd it as a holy cheat, Grown out of date, and obsolete ; And all the saints of the first grass, As castling foals of Balaam's ass. 540 At this the Knight grew high in chafe, And staring furiously on Ralph, He trembled, and look'd pale v/ith ire ; Like ashes first, then red as fire. Have I (quoth he) been ta'en in fight, 545 And for so many moons lain by't. And, when all other means did fail, Have been exchanged for tubs of ale ? 548. The Knight was kept prisoner in Exeter, and, after several exchanges proposed, but none accepted of 138 HUDIBRAS. Not but they thought me worth a ransom Much more considerable and handsome, 550 But for their own sakes, and for fear They were not safe when I was there ; Now to be baffled by a scoundrel, An upstart sectVy, and a mongrel, Such as breed out of peccant humours 555 Of our own church, like wens or tumours, And, like a maggot in a sore, Would that which gave it life devour ; It never shall be done or said : With that he seiz'd upon his blade ; 560 And Ralpho too, as quick and bold, Upon his basket-hilt laid hold, With equal readiness prepared To draw, and stand upon his guard ; When both were parted on the sudden, 565 With hideous clamour, and a loud one. As if all sorts of noise had been Contracted into one loud din ; Or that some member to be chosen Had got the odds above a thousand, 570 And, by the greatness of his noise, Prov'd fittest for his country's choice. This strange surprisal put the Knight And wrathful Squire into a fright ; And though they stood prepar'd, with fatal 575 Impetuous rancour to join battle, Both thought it was the wisest course To wave the fight and mount to horse, And to secure, by swift retreating. Themselves from danger of worse beating. 580 Yet neither of them would disparage, By utt'ring of his mind, his courage ; Which made them stoutly keep their ground. With horror and disdain wind-bound. And now the cause of all their fear 585 By slow degrees approached so near, They might distinguish different noise Of horns, and pans, and dogs, and boys, was at last released for a barrel of ale, as he often used to declare. PART II.— CANTO II. 139 And kettle-drums, whose sullen dub Sounds like the hoopmg of a tub. 590 But when the sight appeared in view, They found it was an antique show ; A triumph, that, for pomp and state, Did proudest Romans emulate : For as the aldermen of Rome 595 Their foes at training overcome, And not enlarging territory (As some mistaken write in story), Being mounted, in their best array, Upon a car, and who but they ! 600 And follow'd with a world of tall-lads. That merry ditties trolFd, and ballads. Did ride with many a good-morrow, [borough ; Crying, ' Hey for our town!' through the ^o when this triumph drew so nigh 605 They miglit particulars descry, They never saw two things so pat, In all respects, as this and that. First he that led the cavalcate Wore a sow-gelder's flagellate, 610 On which he blew as strong a level As well-fee'd lawyer on his breviate, When over one another's heads Tliey charge (three ranks at once) like Swedes. Next pans and kettles of all keys, 615 From trebles down to double base ; And after them, upon a nag, Tiiat might pass for a forehand stag, A cornet rode, and on his staff A smock displayed did proudly wave. 620 Then bagpipes of the loudest drones, With snuffling broken- winded tones. Whose blasts of air, in pockets shut, Sound filthier than from the gut, And make a viler noise than swine 625 In windy weather, when they whine. Next one upon a pair of panniers, Full fraught with that which for good manners Shall here be nameless, mixt with grains, Which he dispens'd among the swains, 630 140 HUDIBRAS. And busily upon the crowd At random round about bestowed. Then, mounted on a horned horse, One bore a gauntlet and gWi spurs, Ty'd to the pummel of a long sword 635 He Jield reverst, the point tum'd downward. Next after, on a raw-bou'd steed, The conqueror's standard-bearer rid, And bore aloft before the champion A petticoat displayed, and rampant; 640 Near whom the Amazon triumphant Bestrid her beast, and on the rump on't Sat face to tail, and bum to bum, The warrior whilom overcome, Arm'd with a spindle and a distaff, 645 Which, as he rode, she made him twist off; And when he loiterM, o'er her shoulder Chastis'd the reformado soldier. Before the dame, and round about, March'd whifflers and staffiers on foot, 650 With lackies, grooms, valets, and pages, In fit and proper equipages ; Of whom some torches bore, some links, Before the proud virago minx. That was both Madam and a Don, 655 Like Nero's Sporus, or Pope Joan ; And at fit periods the whole rout Set up their throats with clamorous shout. The Knight, transported, and the Squire, Put up their weapons, and their ire ; 660 And Hudibras, who us'd to ponder On such sights with judicious wonder. Could hold no longer to impart His animadversions, for his heart. Quoth he. In all my life, till now, 665 I ne'er saw so profane a show. It is a Paganish invention, Which heathen writers often mention : And he who made it had read Goodwin, Or Ross, or Cselius Rhodogine, 670^ With all the Grecian Speeds and Stows, That best describe those ancient shows; PART II.— CANTO II. 141 And has observ'd all fit decorums We find described by old historians : For as the Roman conqueror, 675 That put an end to foreign war, Enfring the town in triumph fijr it, Bore a slave with him, in his chariot ; So this insulting female brave Carries behind lifer here a slave : 680 And as the ancients long ago, When they in field defy'd the foe. Hung out their mantles della guerre, So her proud standard-bearer here Waves on his spear, in dreadful manner, 685 A Tyrian petticoat for banner. Next links and torches, heretofore Still borne before the emperor : And as, in antique triumphs, eggs Were borne for mystical intrigues, 690 There's one with truncheon, like a ladle, That carries eggs too, fresh or addle ; And still at random, as he goes, Among the rabble-rout bestows. Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ; 695 For all th' antiquity you smatter Is but a riding us'd of course. When the gray mare's the better horse ; When o'er the breeches greedy woman Fight to extend their vast dominion ; 700 And in the cause impatient Grizel Has drubb'd her husband with bull's pizzle, And brought him under covert-baron, To turn her vassal with a murrain ; When wives their sexes shift, like hares, 705 And ride their husbands like night-mares, And they, in mortal battle vanquish'd, Are of their charter disenfranchis'd, 678. ' Et sibi consul Me placeat, curru servus portaUir codein. 083. ' Tunica Coccinea solebat pridie quam dimican dum esset, supra pratorium poni, quasi admonitio, et indicium futurse pugnae.' Lipsius in Tacit, p. 56. 687. Tliat the Roman emperors were wont to have torches borne before them (by day) in pubhc, appears by Herodian in Pertinace. Lips, in Tacit, p. 16. 142 riUDIBRAS. And by the right of war, like gills, Condei'nn"'d to distaff, horns, and wheels : 710 For when men by their wives are cowM, Their horns of course are understood. Quoth Hudibras, Thou still giv'st sentence I !n pertinently, and against sense. "Tis not the least disparagement 715 To be defeated by th' event. Nor to be beaten by main force ; That does not make a man the worse, Although his shoulders with battoon Be claw'd and cudgelfd to some tune. 720 A tailor's prentice has no hard Measure, thafs bang'd with a true yard : But to turn tail, or run away. And without blows give up the day, Or to surrender ere th' assault, 735 That's no man's fortune, but his fault, And renders men of honour less Than all th' adversity of success ; And only unto such this show Of horns and petticoats is due. 730 There is a lesser profanation, Like that the Romans calfd ovation : For as ovation was allow'd For conquest purchased without blood. So men decree these lesser shows 735 For victory gotten without blows, By dint of sharp hard words, which some Give battle with, and overcome ; These, mounted in a chair-curule, Which moderns call a cucking-stool, 740 March proudly to the river's side. And o'er the waves in triumph ride ; Like dukes of Venice, who are said Tlie Adriatic Sea to wed ; And have a gentler wife than those 745 For whom the state decrees those shows. But both are heathenish, and come From th' whores of Babylon and Rome, And by the saints should be withstood, As Antichristian and lewd ; 750 PART IL— CANTO II. 143 And we as such, should now contribute Our utmost struggUngs to prohibit. This said, they both advanced, and rode A dog-trot through the bawhng crowd, T' attack the leader, and still prest, 755 Till they approach'd him breast to breast : Then Hudibras, with face and hand, Made signs for silence ; which obtain'd, What means (quoth he) the devil's procession With men of orthodox profession ? 760 'Tis ethnic and idolatrous, From heathenism derived to us. Does not the Whore of Babylon ride Upon her horned beast astride, Like this proud dame, who either is 765 A type of her, or she of this ? Are things of superstitious function Fit to be us'd in gospel sun-shine? It is an Antichristian opera. Much us'd in midnight times of Popery, 770 Of running after self-inventions Of wicked and profane intentions; To scandalize that sex for scolding, To whom the saints are so beholden. Women, who were our first apostles, 775 Without whose aid we had been lost else ; Women, that left no stone unturned In which the cause might be concern'd ; Brought in their cluldren''s spoons and whistles, To purchase swords, carbines, and pistols; 780 Their husbands, cullies, and sweet-hearts, To take the saints' and churches' parts ; Drew several gifted brethren in. That for the bishops would have been, And ^xM 'em constant to the party, 785 ^Vith motives powerful and hearty; Their husbands robb'd, and made hard shifts T' administer unto their gifts All they could rap, and rend and pilfer. To scraps and ends of gold and silver; 790 Rubb'd down the teachers, tir d and spent With holding forlh i'oi Parliament : 144 HUDIBRAS. Pamper'd and edify'd their zeal With marrow-puddings many a meal ; Enabled them, with store of meat, 795 On controverted points to eat ; And cramm'd 'em, till their guts did ake, With cawdle, custard, and plum-cake : What have they done, or what left undone, That might advance the cause at London ? 800 March'd rank and file, with drum and ensign, T' intrench the city for defence in ; Rais'd rampiers with their own soft hands, To put the enemy to stands ; From ladies down to oyster- wenches, 805 Labour'd like pioneers in trenches ; Fell to their pick-axes, and tools. And help'd the men to dig like moles. Have not the handmaids of the city Chose of their members a committee, 810 For raising of a common purse Out of their wages to raise horse? And do they not as triers sit, To judge what officers are fit ? Have they ? At that an egg let fly 815 Hit him directly o'er the eye. And running down his cheek, besmear'd With orange-tawny slime his beard ; But beard and slime being of one hue, The wound the less appear'd in view. 820 Then he that on the panniers rode. Let fly on tli' other side a load, And quickly charg'd again, gave fully In Ralpho's face another votley. The Knight was startled with the smell, 825 And for his sword began to feel ; And Ralpho, smother'd with the stink, Grasp'd his ; when one that bore a link O' th' sudden clapp'd his flaming cudgel. Like linstock, to the horse's touch-hole ; 830 And straight another with his flambeau, Gave Ralpho's o'er the eye a damn'd blow. The beasts began to kick and fling, And forcM tiie rout to make a ring. PART II.— CANTO II. 145 Through whicli they quickly broke their way. And brought them off from further fray ; And though disordered in retreat, Each of them stoutly kept his seat: For, quitting both their swords and reins, They grasp'd with all their strength the manes. And, to avoid the foe's pursuit, 841 With spurring put their cattle to't; And till all four were out of wind, And danger too, ne'er looked behind. After th' had paus'd a while, supplying 845 Their spirits, spent with fight and flying. And Hudibras recruited force Of lungs, for action or discourse; Quoth he. That man is sure to lose That fouls his hands with dirty foes : 850 For where no honour's to be gain'd, 'Tis thrown away in b'ing maintained. 'Twas ill for us we had to do With so dishonourable a foe : For though the law of arms doth bar 855 The use of venom'd shot in war. Yet, by the nauseous smell, and noisome, Their case-shot savours strong of poison ; And doubtless have been chewM with teeth Of some that had a stinking breath ; 860 Else, when we put it to the push. They had not giv'n us such a brush. But as those poltroons that fling dirt Do but defile, but cannot hurt. So all the honour they have won, 865 Or we have lost, is much as one. 'Twas well we made so resolute And brave retreat, without pursuit ; For if we had not, we had sped Much worse, to be in triumph led ; 870 Than which the ancients held no state Of man's life more unfortunate. But if this bold adventure e'er Do chance to reach the widow's ear, It may, b'ing destin'd to assert 875 Her sex's honour, reacli her heart ; H 146 HUDIBRAS. And as such homely treats (they say) Portend good fortune, so this may. Vespasian being daub'd with dirt, Was destin'd to the empire for't ; 880 And from a scavenger did come To be a mighty prince in Rome : And why may not this foul address Presage in love the same success ? Then let us straight, to cleanse our wounds, Advance in quest of nearest ponds ; 886 And after (as we first designed) Swear I've performed what she enjoin'd. CANTO III. The Knight, with various doubts possest, To win the Lady goes in quest Of Sidrophel, the Rosy- crucian, To know the dest'nies' resolution : With whom b'ing met, tiiey both chop logic About the science astrologic: Till falling from dispute to fight. The Conj'ror's worsted by the KniglU. Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated, as to cheat ; As lookers-on feel most delight, That least perceive a juggler's sleight; And still the less they understand, 5 The more th' admire his sleight of hand. Some with a noise, and greasy light, Are snapt, as men catch larks by knight ; Ensnar'd and hamper'd by the soul, As nooses by the legs catch fowl. 10 Some with a med'cine, and receipt. Are drawn to nibble at the bait ; And tho' it be a two-foot trout, 'Tis with a single hair puU'd out. Others believe no voice t' an organ 15 So sweet as lawyer's in his bar-gown, 079. ' C. CfE6ar succensens, propter curam verrendis viisnon adhibiiam, luto jussu oppleri congesto per mi litesin prsetextoe Miuura. Sueton. in Vespas. c. 5. i PART II.— CANTO III. 147 Until with subtle cobweb-cheats Th' are catch'tl in knotted law, like nets ; In which, when once they are imbrangled. The more they stir, the more they're tangled ; And while their purses can dispute, 21 There's no end of th' immortal suit. Others still gape t' anticipate The cabinet-desi^'ns of fate ; Apply to wizards to foresee 25 What sliall, and what shall never be ; And, as those vultures do forebode, Believe events prove bad or good : A flam more senseless than the roguery Of old aruspicy and aug'ry, 30 That out of garbages of cattle Presag'd th' events of truce or battle ; From flight of birds, or chickens pecking, Success of great'st attempts would reckon : Tlvough cheats, yet more intelligible 35 Than those that with the stars do fribble. This Hudibras by proof found true, As in due time and place we'll shew : For he, with beard and face made clean, B'ing mounted on his steed agen 40 (And Ralpho got a cock-horse too Upon his beast, with much ado), Advanc'd on for the Widow's house, To acquit himself, and pay his vows ; VVhen various thoughts began to bustle, 45 And with his inward man to justle. He thought what danger might accrue If she should find he swore untrue ; Or, if his Squire or he should fail. And not be punctual in their tale, 50 It might at once the ruin prove Both of his honour, faith, and love. But if he should forbear to go, She might conclude h' had broke his vow ; And that he durst not now, for shame, 55 Appear in court to try his claim. Tills was the pen'worth of his thought, To pass time, and uneasy trot. 148 HUDIBRAS. Quoth he, In all my past adventures I ne'er was set so on the tenters ; 60 Or taken tardy with dilemma, That ev'ry way I turn does hem me, And with inextricable doubt Besets my puzzled Vv'its .about : For tho' the dame hath been my bail, 65 To free me from enchanted jail, Yet as a doij, committed close For some offence, by chance breaks loose, And quits his clog, but all in vain. He still draws after him his chain ; 70 So, though my ankle she has quitted, My heart continues still committed: And like a baifd and mainpriz'd lover, Altho'' at large, I am bound over: And when I shall appear in court, 75 To plead my cause, and answer for't. Unless the judge do partial prove, What will become of me and love ? For if in our account we vary, Or but in circumstance miscarry ; 80 Or if she put ms to strict proof. And make me pull my doublet off, To shew, by evident record Writ on my skin, Fve kept my word ; How can I e'er expect to have her, 85 Having demurred unto her favour ? But faith, and love, and honour lost. Shall be reduc'd t' a Knight o' th' Post. Beside, that stripping may prevent What Fm to prove by argument, 90 And justify I have a tail ; And that way, too, my proof may fail. Oh ! that I cou'd enucleate. And solve the problems of my fate ; < )r find, by necromantic art, 95 How far tlie destinies take my part I For if I were not more than certain To win and wear her, and her fortune, Fd go no farther in this courtship. To hazard soul, estate, and worship : 100 PART II.— CANTO III. 149 For though an oath obliges not Where any thing is to be got, (As thou hast prov'd), yet 'tis profane, And sinful, when men swear in vain. Quoth Ralph, Not far from hence doth dwell A cunning man, hight Sidrophel, 106 That deals in destiny's dark counsels, And sage opinions of the moon sells ; To whom all peojile, far and near, On deep importances repair ; 110 When brass and pewter hap to stray. And linen slinks out of the way ; When geese and puUen are seduc'd, And sows of suckin