The poetical works of Samuel Butler

THE POETICAL WORKS OF

SAMUEL BUTLER

VOLUME I

ALDI

LONDON

WILLIAM PICKERING

1835

OH MILKS WHITTINCHAM
LONDON

TO THE REV. WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES,

CANON OF SALISBURY, ETC.

UN HONOUR' D lay poor Butler's nameless grave,
One line, the hand of pitying friendship gave.
Twas his with pure confiding heart to trust
The nattering minions of a monarch's lust ;
And hope that faith a private debt would own,
False to the honour of a nation's throne.

Such were the lines insulted virtue pour'd,
And such the wealth of wit's exhaustless hoard ;
Of keenest wisdom dallying with her scorn,
And playful jest of indignation born ;
And honest hatred of that godless crew,
To king, to country ; — to themselves untrue :
The hands that laid the blameless mitre low,
That gave great Wentworth to the headsman's

blow,

And their's the deed immortalized in shame,
Which raised a monarch to a martyr's name.
Oh ! friend ! with me thy thoughtful sorrows

join,

Thy heart will answer each desponding line ;
Say, when thy hand o'er KEN'S neglected grave
At once the flowers of love and learning gave ;
Or when was heard, beneath each listening tree,
The lute sweet Arehimage had lent to thee :

Vlll LIFE OF BUTLER.

racter of a good scholar ; but the period and place
of his residence seem alike unknown, and indeed
it appears doubtful whether he ever received the
advantages of an academical education.

For some time he was clerk to Mr. Jefferys, of
Earls Croornb, in Worcestershire, an eminent
justice cf the peace. He employed the ample
leisure which his situation afforded in study ;
while he also cultivated the arts of painting and
music. " The Hogarth of Poetry," says Walpole,
" was a painter too :" his love of the pencil intro-
duced him to the acquaintance of the celebrated
Samuel Cooper.4 Some pictures were shown by the
family as his, but we presume of no great excel-
lence, as they were subsequently employed to stop
broken windows. Dr. Nash says that he heard of
a portrait of Oliver Cromwell by him. After this,
he was recommended to the notice of the Countess
of Kent, living at Wrest, in Bedfordshire, where
he had not only the advantage of a library,5 but
enjoyed the conversation of the most learned man
of his age, the great Selden. Why he subsequently
left so advantageous and honourable a situation
does not appear, but we find him domesticated
under the roof of Sir Samuel Luke, at Cople, or
Wood end, a gentleman of a very ancient family
in Bedfordshire, one of Cromwell's officers, and a
rigid Presbyterian. It is in this place and at this

4 Of our English poets, Flatman and George Dyer were
painters. Pope also used the brush under the tuition of
Jervas. I recollect no further union of the arts.

5 " Butler was not acquainted with the Italian poets. Of
Ruggiero he might have truly asserted what lie has falsely
told of Rinaldo."— See Neve on tke English Poets, p. 79.

LIFE OF BUTLER. IX

time that he is said to have commenced his cele-
brated poem. His patron's house afforded him a
gallery of living portraits, and he was fortunately
permitted to see Puritanism in one of its strong
holds. The keenness of his observation secured
the fidelity of his descriptions, and enabled him
to fill up his outline with those rich and forcible
details, which a familiar acquaintance with the
originals afforded.

At the restoration of the exiled monarch, when
loyalty expected the reward of its fidelity and
the recompense of its losses. Butler appears to
have suffered the same disappointment that met
other claimants ; and silently and unobtrusively
retreating from the conflict of avarice and impor-
tunity,6 he accepted the Secretaryship to Richard,

6 It is supposed that Sir Samuel Luke is ridiculed under
the character of Hudibras : the reason of the conjecture is
founded on Hudib. P. i.e. 1. ver. 904: —

'Tis sung, there is a valiant Mamaluke,
In foreign land yclep'd — ;

and the ballad entitled " A Tale of the Cobbler and Vicar of
Bray," in the posthumous works, p. 28j, but this ballad is
not proved to be genuine. Xash says, " he was informed by
a bencher of Gray's Inn, who had it from an acquaintance
of Butler's, that the person intended was Sir Henrv Rose-
well, of Torr Abbey, in Devonshire," but adds, " these would
be probable reasons to deprive Bedfordshire of the Hero, did
not Butler, in his Memoirs of 1649, give the same descrip-
tion of Sir Samuel Luke, and in his Dunstable Downs, ex-
pressly style Sir Samuel Luke, Sir Hudibras ;" the name was
borrowed from Spenser, F. Q. 11. i. 17.

He that made love unto the eldest dame
Was bight Sir Hudibras, an hardy man.

It is supposed that Lilly the astrologer was represented
under the person of Sidrophel ; though Sir Paul Xeal, who
denied Butler to be the author of Hudibras, has been men-
tioned as the person intended. Vide Grey's Hudibras, ii.

X LIFE OF BUTLER.

Earl of Carbury, Lord President of the Principa-
lity of Wales, who made him Steward of Ludlow
Castle, where the court of the marches was
removed. About this time, he married Mrs.
Herbert,7 a gentlewoman of good family, but
who had lost most of her fortune, by placing it
on bad securities, in those very dangerous and
uncertain times. A. Wood says, that he was
Secretary to George, Duke of Buckingham, when
he was Chancellor of Cambridge, that the Duke
treated him with kindness and generosity; and
that in common with almost all men of wit and
learning, he enjoyed the friendship of the cele-
brated Earl of Dorset. The author of his Life,
prefixed to his Poems, says, that the integrity of his
life, the acuteness of his wit, and the easiness of his
conversation, rendered him acceptable to all ; but
that he avoided a multiplicity of acquaintance.
The accounts both of the patronage of the Duke
of Buckingham and the Secretaryship are disbe-
lieved by Dr. Johnson, on the following grounds :
— "Mr. Wycherley," says Major Packe, "had
always laid hold of an opportunity which offered
of representing to the Duke of Buckingham how
well Mr. Butler had deserved of the royal family,
by writing his inimitable Hudibras, and that it
was a reproach to the Court that a person of his

388. 105. 1st edit.; and Nash's Hudibras, vol. ii. p. 308.
that Whachum was meant for Sir George \V barton, does not
appear to rest on any proof; v. Biographia, Art. Sherborne,
note (B).

7 A. Wood says, that she was a widow, and that Butler
supported himself by her jointure, deriving nothing from
the practice of the law.

LIFE OF BUTLER. XI

loyalty and wit, should suffer in obscurity, and
under the wants he did. The duke always seemed
to hearken to him with attention enough, and
after some time undertook to recommend his pre-
tensions to his Majesty. Mr. Wycherley, in hopes
to keep him steady to his word, obtained of his
Grace to name a day, when he might introduce
that modest and unfortunate poet to his new pa-
tron. At last an appointment was made, and the
place of meeting- was agreed to be the Roebuck.
Mr. Butler and his friend attended accordingly ;
the duke joined them, but as the devil would have
it, the door of the room where they sat was open,
and his Grace, who had seated himself near it,
observing a pimp of his acquaintance (the creature
too was a knight) trip by with a brace of ladies,
immediately quitted his engagement to follow an-
other kind of business, at which he was more
ready than to do good offices to those of desert,
though no one was better qualified than he, both
in regard to his fortune and understanding, to pro-
tect them ; and from that time to the day of his
death, poor Butler never found the least effect of
his promise."

This story may be believed or not ; to me, I con-
fess, it appears more like a well-dressed fiction of
Wycherley's than the truth ; why the accidental in-
terruption of the interview should never after have
been repaired, does not appear; but there is a
better testimony in some verses of Butler, which
were published by Mr. Thyer : " which are writ-
ten (says Johnson) with a degree of acrimony,
such as neglect and disappointment might natu-
rally excite, and such as it would be hard to ima-

Xll LIFE OF BUTLER.

gine Butler capable of expressing against a man
who had any claim to his gratitude."

In 1663, the first part of Hudibras, in three
cantos, was published,8 when more than fifty years
had matured the author's genius, and given large
scope to his experience of mankind. It was
speedily known at court, through the influence
of the Earl of Dorset.9 The king praised, the
courtiers, of course, admired, and the royalists
greeted a production which certainly covered their
now fallen enemies with all the derision and con-
tempt, which wit and genius could command. In
1664, the second part appeared ; and the author, as
well as the public, watched with anxiety for the re-
ward which he was to receive from the gratitude
of the king ; like the other expectants of Charles's
bounty, which was drained off into very different
channels, they watched in vain. Clarendon, says
Wood, gave him reason to hope for places and
employments of value and credit, but he never
received them ; and the story of the king's pre-
senting him with a purse of three hundred guineas
appears also to rest on no competent authority.
To compensate for the neglect of the court,
and of a king, who, in truth, cared for no one
but himself, and who possessed neither public
honour, nor private principle, it is difficult to

8 Some verses in the first edition of Hudibras were
afterwards omitted for reasons of state, as

Did not the learned Glynne and Maynard,
To make good subjects traitoi-s, strain hard.
Was not the king, by proclamation,
Declared a traitor through the nation.

0 See Prior's Dedication to his Poems.

LIFE OF BUTLER. Xlll

say, whether Butler may have been satisfied with
the approbation of the people ; or how far the love
of his art, confidence in his own genius, and a
natural fondness for a successful production, may
have induced him to continue his poem ; certainly
in four years more he published the third part,
which still leaves the work unfinished. What
he ultimately intended, it is impossible to con-
jecture from a narrative which has no consistent
plan, or progress. He may have been wearied
of it, or he may not have had time to continue
it ; for he died two years after its appearance,
on the 25th of September, in the year 1680 -,1
and was buried very privately by his friend Mr.
Longueville, in the church-yard of St. Paul,
Covent-Garden, at his private expense ; for he
had in vain solicited an honourable and public
funeral in Westminster Abbey. About seven or
eight persons followed his remains. His grave,
which, according to his desire, was six feet deep,
was at the west-end of the church-yard on
the north side ; and the burial service was read
over him by the learned Dr. Patrick, then minister
of the parish, and afterwards Bishop of Ely.
Dr. Johnson says, that Mr. Lowndes of the
Treasury, informed Dr. Zachary Pearce,2 that

1 A. Wood says he died of a consumption ; Oldham says
he was carried off hy a fever ; but as he was near four-
score, we may he spared any further investigation. Mr.
Longueville says he lived for some years in Rose Street,
Covent Garden, and probably died there : that notwith-
standing his disappointments he was never reduced to
want or beggary, and that he did not die in any person's
debt.

2 See Granger's Biog. Hist, of England, vol. iv. p. 40.

XIV LIFE OF BUTLER.

Butler was allowed a yearly pension of a hundred
pounds ; but this, as Johnson says, is contradicted
by all tradition, by the complaints of Oldham,3 and
the reproaches of Dry den. About sixty years
after, Mr. Barber, whose name is familiar to
all persons conversant with the literature of that
time, who was printer and mayor of London,
erected a monument in Westminster Abbey to
the poet's memory ; the inscription will prove how
warmly he approved his principles.

M. S.

SAMUELIS BUTLERI,

Qui Strenshamiae in agro Vigorn. nat. 1612,
obiit Lond. 1680.

Vir doctus imprimis, acer, integer ;
Operihus ingenii, non item pra^miis foelix :
Satyrici apud nos carminis artifex egregius ;

Quo simulate religionis larvam detraxit,

Et perduellium scelera liberrime exagitavit ;

Scriptorum in suo genere, primus et postremus.

Ne, cui vivo deerant fere onmia,

Deessit etiam mortuo tumulus,

Hoc tandem posito marmore, curavit

Johannes Barber, civis Londinensis, 1721.4

After his death, three small volumes were pub-
lished bearing the title of his posthumous pieces in

3 See Oldham's ' Satire against Poetry,' and Dryden's
' Hind and Panther,' and Otway's ' Prologue to the Tragedy
of Constantine the Great.' Butler twice transcribed the
following distich in his Common-place Book :

To think how Spenser died, how Cowley mourn'd,
How Butler's faith and service were return'd.

4 In the additions to Pope's works, published by George
Steevens, i. p. 13, are some lines said to be written by
Pope on this monument erected by Barber.

Respect to Dryden Sheffield justly paid,
And noble Villars honour'd Covvley's shade.

LIFE OF BUTLER. XV

verse and prose ;5 they are, however, all spurious,
except the ode on Duval and two of the prose
tracts : but the volumes subsequently given to the
world by Mr. Thyer, keeper of the public library
at Manchester, are genuine6 and valuable. " As
to these remains of Butler," says Warburton
in his Letters (cxxxi), " they are certainly his ;
but they would not strike the public, if that public
was honest ; but the public is a malicious monster,
which cares not what it affords to dead merit, so.

But whence this Barber 1. that a name so mean
Should, join'd with Butler's, on a tomb be seen ;
The pyramid would better far proclaim
To future ages humbler Settle's name ;
Poet and patron then had been well pair'd,
The city printer and the city bard.

The lines also by Samuel Wesley are well known (vide
Poems, 4to. 1736, p. 62.)

While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive,

No generous patron would a dinner give ;

See him, when starved to death and turn'd to dust,

Presented with a monumental bust.

The poet's fate is here in emblem shown,

He ask'd for bread, and he received a stone.

5 See Delineation of Butler's Monument in Dart's West-
minster Abbey, pi. 3, torn. 1, pp. 78, 79. With regard to
the monument erected in 1786, when the church was re-
paired, at the expense of some of the parishioners, on the
south side of the church (inside) with the inscription, see
N ash's Life of Butler, xiii. See engraving of it in Xash's
Life of Butler, p. xxxix. An engraving of the monument
in Westminster Abbey is in the same work, p. 678.

6 What genuine remains of Butler Thyer did not publish,
were all in the hands either of Dr. R. Farmer or Dr. Xash,
and had been seen by Atterbury. See Life by Xash, xvi.
James Massey, Esq. of Rosthern, Cheshire, had Butler's
Common Place Book. Some law cases from Coke upon
Littleton, drawn up in X'orman-French by Butler, were
bought by Dr. Xash of Butler's relation in Buckingham-
shire. He had also a French dictionary compiled by him,
and part of a tragedy of Xero.

XVI LIFE OF BUTLER.

it can but depress the living. There was some-
thing1 singular in this same Butler ; besides an
infinite deal of wit, he had great sense and pene-
tration, both in the sciences and in the world.
Yet with all this, he could never plan a work or
tell a story well. The first appears from his
Hudibras ; the other from his Elephant in the
Moon. He evidently appears to be dissatisfied
with it, by turning it into long verse, but that
was his forte ; the fault lay in the manner of tell-
ing, not but he might have another reason for
trying his talents at heroic verse — emulation.
Dryden had burst out in a surprising manner ;
and, in such a case, the poetic world, as we have
seen by a late instance, is always full of imi-
tations. But Butler's heroics are poor stuff;
indeed only doggerel made languid by heavy ex-
pletives. This attempt in the change of his mea-
sure was the sillier, not only as he acquired the
mastery in the short measure, but as that measure,
somehow or other, suits best with his sort of wit.
His characters are full of cold puerilities, though
intermixed with abundance of wit and with a great
deal of good sense. He is sometimes wonderfully
fine both in his sentiment and expression, as when
he defines " the Proud Man to be a Fool in fermen-
tation ;" and when speaking of the Antiquary, he
says, " he has a great veneration for words that are
stricken in years and are grown so aged that they
have outlived their employments :" but the great
fault in these characters is that they are a bad and
false species of composition. 7 As for his editor

7 See some excellent observations on this style of writing
in Retrosp. Rev. vol. iii. art.iv. ' Fuller's Church History.'

LIFE OF BUTLER. XV11

he is always in the wrong when there was a possi-
bility of his mistaking. I could not but smile at
his detecting Pope's plagiarisms about the West-
phalia hogs, when I reflected, that in a very little
time, when the chronology is not well attended to,
your fine note about the ambergris will be under-
stood by every one as a ridicule upon it; and,
indeed, an excellent one it is : notwithstanding, I
wish this fellow would give us a new edition of
Hudibras, for the reason he mentions."

A. Wood ascribed to Butler two pamphlets,
supposed, he says, falsely to be William Prynn's.
The one entitled " Mola Asinaria," or the unrea-
sonable and insupportable Burden pressed upon
the Shoulders of this groaning Nation. London,
1659, in one sheet 4to. The other, Two Letters ;
one from John Audland, a quaker, to William
Prynn ; the other, Prynn's Answer ; in three
sheets in folio, 1672. The author of his life also
adds, that he had seen a small poem, of one sheet
in quarto, on Duval the highwayman, said to be
written by Butler. These formed part of the
posthumous pieces above mentioned ; to which
may be added the fragment given to Mr. Aubrey
by the poet himself, and printed by the writer of
his life. It is said that Butler did not shine in
conversation till he had taken a cheerful glass,
though he was no intemperate drinker. The fol-
lowing story is told in the British Biography: —
" Before he (Butler) was personally known to the
Earl of Dorset, that nobleman had a great desire
to spend an evening with him as a private gentle-
man ; and with that view prevailed on Mr. Thet-
wood Shepherd to introduce him into his company

XV111 LIFE OF BUTLER.

at a tavern which they used, in the character only
of a common friend. This being done, Mr. Butler,
we are told, whilst the first bottle was drinking,
appeared very flat and heavy, at the second bottle
extremely brisk and lively, full of wit and learn-
ing, and a most pleasant agreeable companion, but
before the third bottle was finished sunk again into
guch stupidity and dulness, that hardly any body
could have believed him to be the author of Hudi-
bras, a book abounding with so much wit, learning,
and pleasantry. Next morning Mr. Shepherd asked
his lordship's opinion of Mr. Butler, who answered,
' He is like a nine-pin, little at both ends, but
great in the middle.'8 Johnson sums up the per-
sonal history of the poet by saying, ' In this mist
of obscurity passed the life of Butler, a man
whose name can only perish with his language.'
The date of his birth is doubtful, the mode and
place of his education are unknown, the events of
his life are variously related, and all that can be
told with certainty is that he was poor."

A list of the portraits of Butler, in painting
and engraving, may be found in Granger's His-
tory of England ; 9 a portrait of him by Lely is in
the Picture Gallery at Oxford ; and another, by
the same hand, formerly in the possession of Mr.
Longueville, became the property of Mr. Hayter
of Salisbury. Another likeness of him by Zoort,
was formerly in the collection of the celebrated
Mr. Charles Jennins. Several prints of him by

8 A. Wood says, " Butler was a boon and witty com-
panion, especially among the company he knew well."

9 See vol. iv. p. 38, &c. A mezzotint print of Lord Grey
has been altered to Butler.

LIFE OF BUTLER. XIX

Vertue are also prefixed to different editions of
his works.

The merit of Hudibras (it has been well ob-
served),1 certainly lies in its style and execution,
and by no means in the structure of the story.
The action of the poem as it stands, and inter-
rupted as it is, occupies but three days, and it is
clear from the opening- line, ' When civil dudgeon
first grew high,' that it was meant to bear date
with the civil wars. Yet after two days and
nights are completed, the Poet skips at once, in
the third part, to Oliver Cromwell's death, and
then returns to retrieve his hero, and conduct him
through the last canto. Before the third part of
Hudibras appeared, a great space of time had
elapsed, since the publication of the first. Charles
the Second had been fifteen years asleep on the
throne, and Butler seems to have felt that the
ridicule of the sectaries was a stale subject. The
final interest of the piece, therefore, dwindles
into the Widow's repulse of Sir Hudibras, a topic
which has been suspected to allude not so much
to the Presbyterians, as to the reigning monarch's
dotage upon his mistresses. " Burlesque," says
Shenstone, " may perhaps be divided into such as
turns chiefly on the thought and such as depends
more on the expression, or we may add a third

1 See Campbell's Specimens of Br. Poets, vol. iv. p. 205.
The principal actions of the poem, says Nash, are four.
1. Hudibras's victory over Crowdero. 2. Trulla's victory
over Hudibras. 3. Hudibras's victory over Sidrophel.
4. The Widow's antimasquerade. The rest is made up of
the adventures of the Bear, of the Skimmington, Hudibras's
conversations with the Lawyer and Sidrophel, and his long
disputations with Ralpho and the Widow.

XX LIFE OF BUTLER.

kind, consisting1 in thoughts ridiculously dressed,
in language much above or below their dignity.
The Splendid Shilling of Phillips, and the Hudibras
of Butler are the most obvious instances. Butler,
however, depended much on the ludicrous effect
of his double rhymes ; in other respects, to declare
your sentiments, he is rather a witty writer, than
a humorous one."2 The defect of Butler's poem
undoubtedly consists, in what has been already
mentioned, — the poverty of the incidents, and
the incompleteness and irregularity of the design.
The slender strain of narrative which is just
visible in the commencement,3 soon dwindles away
and is lost. It is true that the poem abounds
with curious and uncommon learning, with ori-
ginal thoughts, happy imag-es, quaint and comic
turns of expression, and new and fanciful rhymes.
But the humour, instead of being diffused quietly
and unostentatiously over the whole poem, in rich
harmonious colouring, is collected into short epi-
grammatic sentences, pointed apothegms, and
unexpected allusions. It has the same merits and
defects as a poem of a very different kind — Young's
Night Thoughts, — copious invention, new and
pleasing images, and brilliant thoughts; with a
want of sufficient connexion in the subject, and

2 Shenstone's Works, vol. ii. p. 182, third ed.

3 " Butler set out on too narrow a plan, and even that
design is not kept up. lie sinks into little true particulars
about the Widow, &c. The enthusiastic Knight, and the
ignorant Squire, over religious in two different ways, and
always quarrelling tog;ether, is the chief point of view
in it." — (Pope) v. Spence's Anecdotes, p. 208. It appears
from some passages in Warburton's Correspondence, that
Gray did not much admire this poem of Butler's.

LIFE OF BUTLER. XXI

progress in the story. There is no poem at all
resembling Hudibras in character in our language ;
but parts of it are not dissimilar to the style and
manner of some prose writings of the time, which
were published under the name of ' Characters,'
and which, like Butler's poem, dazzle rather than
delight by successive flashes of wit, and a rapid
play of fancy. It may be observed that the defects
and merits of this work are practically made
known by the manner in which it is read. Its
want of story and incident seldom permits a con-
tinued perusal; while the abundance of its wise4
and witty sayings insures a constant recurrence
to its pages. As little can be added to the cha-
racter of the work which Johnson has given, and
as it would be presumptuous to hope to express
his thoughts in any language but his own, we
shall conclude with extracting from his Life of
Butler the following critical opinion of his work.
" The poem of Hudibras is one of those com-
positions of which a nation may justly boast ; as
the images which it exhibits are domestic, the
sentiments unborrowed and unexpected, and the
strain of diction original and peculiar. We must
not, however, suffer the pride, which we assume
as the countrymen of Butler, to make any en-
croachment upon justice, nor appropriate those
honours which others have a right to share. The
poem of Hudibras is not wholly English ; the

4 " Though scarcely any author was ever able to express
his thoughts in so few words as Butler, he often employs
too many thoughts on one subject, and thus becomes prolix
after an 'unusual manner.— See Hume's Hist of England,
vol. viii. p. 337.

XX11 LIFE OF BUTLER.

original idea is to be found in the history of Don
Quixote ; a book to which a mind of the greatest
powers may be indebted without disgrace. Cer-
vantes shows a man, who having by the incessant
perusal of incredible tales, subjected his under-
standing5 to his imagination, and familiarized his
mind by pertinacious meditation to trains of in-
credible events and scenes of impossible exist-
ence ; goes out in the pride of knighthood to
redress wrongs and defend virgins, to rescue
captive princesses, and tumble usurpers from their
thrones, attended by a squire, whose cunning, too
low for the suspicion of a generous mind, enables
him often to cheat his master.

" The hero of Butler is a presbyterian justice,
who, in the confidence of legal authority and the
rage of zealous ignorance, ranges the country to
repress superstition and correct abuses, accom-
panied by an independent clerk, disputatious and
obstinate, with whom he often debates, but never
conquers him.

" Cervantes had so much kindness for Don
Quixote, that, however he embarrasses him with
absurd distresses, he gives him so much sense and
virtue, as may preserve, our esteem. Wherever
he is or whatever he does, he is made by matchless
dexterity, commonly ridiculous, but never con-
temptible.

" But for poor Hudibras, his poet had no
tenderness, he chooses not that any pity should
be shewn, or respect paid him. He gives him up
at once to laughter and contempt, without any

5 Would not " reason " be the more proper word ? •

LIFE OF BUTLER. XX111

quality that can dignify or protect him. In form-
ing the character of Hudibras, and describing his
person and habiliments, the author seems to labour
with a tumultuous confusion of dissimilar ideas.
He had read the history of the mock knights-
errant, he knew the notions and manners of a
Presbyterian magistrate, and tried to unite the
absurdities of both, however distant, in one per-
sonage.6 Thus he gives him that pedantic osten-
tation of knowledge, which has no relation to
chivalry, and loads him with martial encum-
brances, that can add nothing to his civil dignity.
He sends him out a colonelling, and yet never
bring's him within sight of war. If Hudibras be
considered as the representative of the Presby-
terians, it is not easy to say why his weapons
should be represented as ridiculous or useless ;
for whatever judgment might be passed on their
knowledge, or their arguments, experience had
sufficiently shown that their swords were not to
be despised. The hero, thus compounded of
swagger and pedant, of knight and justice, is led

6 " One great object," says Nash, " of our Poet's
satire, is to unmask the hypocrite and to exhibit in a
light at once odious and ridiculous, the Presbyterians
and Independents, and all other sects, which in our Poet's
days amounted to near two hundred, and were enemies to
the king ; but his further view was to banter all the false
and erase all the suspicious pretences to learning that pre-
vailed in his time, such as astrology, sympathetic medicine,
alchymy, transfusion of blood, trifling experimental philo-
sophy, fortune-telling, incredible relations of travellers,
false wit and injudicious affectation of ornament to be found
in the poets, romance writers ; thus he frequently alludes
to Purchas's Pilgrims, SirK. Digby's books, Bulwar's Arti-
ficial Changeling, Brown's Vulgar Errors, Burton's Melan-
choly, the early Transactions of the Royal Society, ice.'1

VOL. I. C

XXIV LIFE OF BUTLER.

forth to action, with his Squire Ralpho, an inde-
pendant enthusiast. Of the contexture of events
planned by the author, which is called the action
of the poem, since it is left imperfect, no judg-
ment can be made. It is probable that the hero
was to be led through many luckless adventures,
which would give occasion, like his attack upon
the Bear and Fiddle, to expose the ridiculous
rigour of the sectaries, like his encounter with
Sidrophel and Whachum to make superstition and
credulity contemptible ; or like his recourse to the
low retailer of the law, discover the fraudulent
practices of different professions.

" What series of events he would have formed,
or in what manner he would have rewarded or
punished his hero, it is now vain to conjecture.
His work must have had, it seems, the defect
which Dryden imputes to Spenser, the action
could not have been one : those could only
have been a succession of incidents, each of
which might have happened without the rest,
and which could not all co-operate to any single
conclusion. The discontinuity of the action
might, however, have been easily forgiven ; if
there had been action enough, but I believe
every reader regrets the paucity of events, and
complains that in the poem of Hudibras, as in the
History of Thucydides, there is more said than
done. The scenes are too seldom changed, and the
attention is tired with long conversation. It is
indeed much more easy to form dialogues than to
contrive adventures. Every position makes way
for an argument, and every objection dictates an
answer. When two disputants are engaged on a

LIFE OF BUTLER. XXV

complicated and extensive question, the difficulty
is not to continue, but to end the controversy.
But whether it he, that we comprehend but few of
the possibilities of life, or that life itself affords
little variety, every man who has tried, knows how
much labour it will cost to form such a combina-
tion of circumstances as shall have at once the
grace of novelty and credibility, and delight fancy
without violence to reason. Perhaps the dialogue
of this poem is not perfect. Some power of en-
gaging the attention might have been added to it,
by quicker reciprocation, by seasonable interrup-
tions, by sudden questions, and by a nearer ap-
proach to dramatic spriteliness ; without which,
fictitious speeches will always tire, however
sparkling with sentences, and however variegated
with allusions. The great source of pleasure is
variety. Uniformity must tire at last, though it
be an uniformity of excellence. We love to
expect, and when expectation is disappointed, or
gratified, we want to be again expecting. For
this impatience of the present, whoever would
please must make provision. The skilful writer,
irritat, mulcet, makes a due distribution of the
still and animated parts. It is for want of this
artful intertexture, and those necessary changes,
that the whole of a book may be tedious, though
all the parts are praised.

If inexhaustible wit could give perpetual plea-
sure, no eye could ever leave half- read the work of
Butler ; for what poet has ever brought so many
remote images so happily together ? It is scarcely
possible to peruse a page without finding some
association of images that was never found before.

XXVI LIFE OF BUTLER.

By the first paragraph the reader is amused, by
the next he is delighted, and by a few more
strained to astonishment, but astonishment is a
toilsome pleasure. He is soon weary of wander-
ing, and longs to be diverted.

Omnia vult belle Matho dicere, die aliquando
Et bene, die neutrum, die aliquando male.

Imagination is useless without knowledge ; nature
gives in vain the power of combination, unless
study and observation supply materials to be com-
bined. Butler's treasures of knowledge appeal-
proportioned to his expense. Whatever topic
employs his mind, he shews himself qualified to
expand and illustrate it with all the accessories
that books can furnish. He is found not only to
have travelled the beaten road, but the bye paths
of literature ; not only to have taken general
surveys, but to have examined particulars with
minute inspection. If the French boast the
learning of Rabelais, we need not be afraid of con-
fronting them with Butler. But the most valuable
parts of his performance are those which retired
study and native wit cannot supply. He that
merely makes a book from books may be useful,
but can scarcely be great. Butler had not suffered
life to glide by him unseen or unobserved. He
had watched with great diligence the operations
of human nature, and traced the effects of opinion,
humour, interest, and passion. From such re-
marks proceeded that great number of sententious
distichs, which have passed into conversation, and
are added as proverbial axioms to the general
stock of practical knowledge. When any work

LIFE OF BUTLKR. XXV11

has been viewed and admired, the first question of
intelligent curiosity is, how was it performed?
Hudibras was not a hasty effusion ; it was not
produced by a sudden tumult of imagination, or a
short paroxysm of violent labour. To accumulate
such a mass of sentiments at the call of accidental
desire, or of sudden necessity, is beyond the
reach and power of the most active and compre-
hensive mind. I am informed by Mr. Thyer,
of Manchester, that excellent editor of this author's
reliques, that he could show something like Hudi-
bras in prose. He has in his possession the
common-place book in which Butler reposited not
such events and precepts as are gathered by
reading, but such remarks, similitudes, allusions,
assemblages, or inferences, as occasion prompted,
or meditation produced, those thoughts that were
generated in his own mind, and might be usefully
applied to some future purpose. Such is the
labour of those who write for immortality -J but
human works are not easily found without a
perishable part. Of the ancient poets every

7 Butler crowds into his confined circle all the treasures
of art and the accumulations of learning. He gives full
measure to his readers, heaped up and running over.
Thought crowds upon thought, and witticism on witticism,
in rapid and dazzling succession. Every topic and every
incident is made the most of: his bye-play always tells.
Many of his happiest sallies appear to escape him as if by
accident. Many of his hardest hits appear to be merely
-chance-blows. A description of a bear-ward brings in a
sneer at Sir K. Digby, and his powder of sympathy ; and
an account of a tinker's doxy introduces a pleasantry on
Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert. There is always an under-
current of satiric allusion beneath the main stream of his
satire. The juggling of astrology, the besetting folly of
alchymy, the transfusion of blood, the sympathetic medi-

XXV111 LIFE OF BUTLER.

reader feels the mythology tedious and oppressive ;
of Hudibras, the manners being founded on opi-
nions, are temporary and local, and therefore be-
come every day less intelligible and less striking.
What Cicero says of philosophy is true likewise
of wit and humour, that time effaces the fictions
of opinion, and confirms the determinations of
nature. Such manners as depend upon standing
relations and general passions are co-extended
with the race of man ; but those modifications of
life and peculiarities of practice, which are the
progeny of error and perverseness, or at best, of
some accidental influence, or transient persuasion,
must perish with their parents. Much, therefore,
of that humour which transported the last century
with merriment is lost to us, who do not know
the sour solemnity, the sullen superstition, the
gloomy moroseness, and the stubborn scruples of
the ancient Puritans ; or, if we knew them, derive
our information only from books, or from tra-
dition; have never had them before our eyes, and
cannot but by recollection and study understand
the lines in which they are satirized. Our grand-

cines, the learned trifling of experimental philosophers,
the knavery of fortune-tellers, and the folly of their dupes,
the marvellous relations of travellers, the subtleties of
the school divines, the freaks of fashion, the fantastic extra-
vagancies of lovers, the affectations of piety, and the absur-
dities of romance, are interwoven with his subject, and
soften down and relieve his dark delineation of fanatical
violence and perfidy. * * Butler was by no means defi-
cient in humour, but it is cast into a dim eclipse by the
predominance of his wit. His characters do not show
themselves off unconsciously as fools or coxcombs : they
are set up as marks at which the author levels all the shafts
of his ridicule and sarcasm, v. Retrosp. Rev. vol. iii.
p. 333.

LIFE OF BUTLER. XXIX

fathers knew the picture from the life ; we judge
of the life by contemplating the picture.

" It is scarcely possible, in the regularity and
composure of the present time, to image the tumult
of absurdity and clamour of contradiction, which
perplexed doctrine, disordered practice, and dis-
turbed both public and private quiet, in that age
when subordination was broken, and awe was
hissed away ; when any unsettled innovator, who
could hatch a half-formed notion, produced it to
the public; when every man might become a
preacher, and almost every preacher could collect a
congregation. The wisdom of the nation is very
reasonably supposed to reside in the parliament;
what can be concluded of the lower classes of the
people, when in one of the parliaments summoned
by Cromwell, it was seriously proposed, that all the
records in the Tower should be burned, that all me-
mory of things passed should be effaced, and that
the whole system of life should commence anew !
We have never been witnesses of animosities ex-
cited by the use of mince pies and plum porridge,
nor seen with what abhorrence those who could
eat them at all other times of the year, should
shrink from them in December. An old Puritan,
who was alive in my childhood, being at one of
the feasts of the Church, invited by a neighbour
to partake his cheer, told him that if he would
treat him at an alehouse with beer brewed for all
times and seasons, he should accept his kindness,
but would have none of his superstitious meats
and drinks. One of the puritanical tenets was
the illegality of all games of chance, and he that
reads Gataker upon Lots, may see how much learn-

XXX LIFE OF BUTLER.

ing and reason one of the first scholars of his age
thought necessary to prove that it was no crime to
throw a die, or play at cards, or hide a shilling
for the reckoning-. Astrology, however, against
which so much of the satire is directed, was not
more the folly of the puritans than of others; it had
in that time a very extensive dominion ; its predic-
tions raised hopes and fears in minds which ought
to have rejected it with contempt. In hazardous
undertakings care was taken to begin under the
influence of a propitious planet; and when the
king was prisoner in Carisbrook Castle, an as-
trologer was consulted what hour would be found
most favourable to an escape. What effect this
Poem had upon the public, whether it shamed im-
posture, or reclaimed credulity, is not easily det£r-
mined, cheats can seldom stand long against
laughter ; it is certain that the credit of planetary
intelligence wore fast away, though some men of
knowledge, and Dryden among them, continued
to believe that conjunctions and oppositions had a
great part in the distribution of good or evil, and
in the government of sublunary things.

" Poetical action ought to be probable upon
certain suppositions ; and such probability as bur-
lesque requires is here violated only by one inci-
dent. Nothing can show more plainly the neces-
sity of doing something, and the difficulty of
finding something to do, than that Butler was
reduced to transfer to his hero the flagellation of
Sancho, not the most agreeable fiction of Cer-
vantes, very suitable indeed to the manners of that
age and nation, which ascribed wonderful efficacy
.to voluntary penances ; but so remote from the

LIFE OF BUTLER. XXXI

practice and opinions of the Hudibrastic time,
that judgment and imagination are alike offended.
The diction of this poem is grossly familiar, and
the numbers purposely neglected, except in a few
places where the thoughts by their native excel-
lence secure themselves from violation, being such
as mean language cannot express. The mode of
versification has been blamed by Dryden, who
regrets that the heroic measure was not rather
chosen. To the critical sentence of Dryden the
highest reverence would be due, were not his
decisions often precipitate, and his opinions imma-
ture. When he wished to change the measure,
he probably would have been willing to change
more. If he intended that when the numbers
were heroic, the diction should still remain vulgar,
he planned a very heterogeneous and unnatural
composition. If he preferred a general state-
liness both of sound and words, he can only be
understood to wish Butler had undertaken a dif-
ferent work. The measure is quick, sprightly,
and colloquial, suitable to the vulgarity of the
words, and the levity of the sentiments, but such
numbers and such .diction can gain regard only
when they are used by a writer whose vigour
of fancy and copiousness of knowledge entitle
him to contempt of ornaments, and who in confi-
dence of the novelty and justness of his conceptions,
can afford to throw metaphors and epithets away.
To another that conveys common thoughts in
careless versification, it will only be said, ' Pauper
videri Cinna vult, et est pauper.' The meaning
and diction will be worthy of each other, and
criticism may justly doom them to. perish together.

XXX11 LIFE OF BUTLER.

Nor even though another Butler should arise,
would another Hudibras obtain the same regard.
Burlesque consists in a disproportion between the
style and the sentiments, or between the adven-
titious sentiments and the fundamental subject.
It, therefore, like all bodies compounded of hete-
rogeneous parts, contains in it a principle of cor-
ruption. All disproportion is unnatural, and from
what is unnatural we can derive only the pleasure
which novelty produces. We admire it awhile as
a strange thing ; but when it is no longer strange
we perceive its deformity. It is a kind of artifice
which by frequent repetition detects itself: and
the reader, learning in time what he is to expect,
lays down his book, as the spectator turns away
from a second exhibition of those tricks, of which
the only use is to show they can be played."

NOTES.

Page ix. On Sir Samuel Luke being represented by Hu-
dibras, see Dr. Grey's Preface, p. iv, where by a reverend
and learned person, Warburton is meant, see D'ls-
raeli's Curiosities of Literature (new series), vol. i. p.
235, on this point. The Grub Street Journal says,
one Col. Rolle, a Devonshire man. The old tutelar
saint of Devonshire was Hugh de Bras, see Edinburgh
Review, No. LXVII. 159. The author of a curious
article in the Censor, No. XVI. (v. Gent. Mag.) called
" Memoirs of Sir Samuel Luke," observes, An unau-
thenticated story prevails that Butler once lived in the
service of Sir Samuel Luke, and has increased with a
succession of writers, like a rolling ball of snow. Wood
and Aubrey, who had both access to credible infor-
mation, say nothing about it ; and it first occurs in an
anonymous life prefixed to his poems. Towneley, in his
Memoir, insinuates that he behaved with ingratitude;
' II me semble qu'il doit epargner le chevalier Luke, son
bienfaiteur, que la gratitude et la reconnaissance auraient
du mettre a convert centre les traits de la satire de votre
auteur.' But for the climax of this representation we are
indebted to the Edinb. Review (Art. Hogg's Jacobite
Relics), in which the critic roundly asserts that " Butler
lived in the family, supported by the bounty of Sir
Samuel Luke, one of Cromwell's captains, at the very
time he planned his Hudibras, of which he was pleased
to make his kind friend and hospitable patron the Hero."
Now (he continues) we defy the history of whiggism to
match this anecdote, or to produce so choice a specimen
of the human nettle !

XXXIV NOTES.

P. xii. Gratitude of the king.] According to the verses
in Butler's ' Hudibras at Court/ (v. Remains).

Now you must know, Sir Hudibras

With such perfections gifted was,

And so peculiar in his manner,

That all that saw him, did him honor.

Among the rest this prince was one

Admired his conversation.

This prince, whose ready wit and parts

Conquer'd both men and women's hearts :

Was so o'ercome with Knight and Ralph,

That he could never clear it off.

He never eat, nor drank, nor slept,

But Hudibras still near him kept ;

Nor would he go to church, or so,

But Hudibras must with him go.

Nor yet to visit concubine,

Or at a city feast to dine ;

But Hudibras must still be there,

Or all the fat was in the fire.

Now after all, was it not hard

That he should meet with no reward,

That fitted out this Knight and Squire,

This monarch did so much admire ;

That he should never reimburse

The man for th' equipage and horse,

Is sure a strange ungrateful thing

In any body but a king ;

But this good king, it seems, was told

By some that were with him too bold,

If e'er you hope to gain your ends,

Caress your foes, and trust your friends.

Such were the doctrines that were taught,

Till this unthinking king was brought

To leave his friends to starve and die,

A poor reward for loyalty.

Oldham, in his Satire against Poetry, writes thus :

On Butler, who can think without just rage,
The glory and the scandal of the age.
Fair stood his hopes, when first he came to town,
Met every where with welcomes of renown.
Courted and loved by all, with wonder read,
And promises of princely favour fed.
But what reward for all had he at last,
After a life in dull expectance past.

NOTES. XXXV

The wretch, at summing up his misspent days,
Found nothing left but poverty and praise.
Of all his gains by verse he could not save
Enough to purchase flannel and a grave.
Reduced to want, he in due time fell sick,
Was fain to die, and be interred on tick,
And well might bless the fever that was sent
To rid him thence, and his worse fate prevent.

And Dryden, in the Hind and Panther :

Unpitied Hudibras, your champion friend
Has shown how far your charities extend.
This lasting verse shall on his tomb be read,
He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead.

P. xiv. Epitaph on Butler, by John Dennis, never
before published, in D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature,
(new series), vol. i. p. 240.

Near this place lies interred
The body of Mr. S. Butler,

Author of Hudibras.
He was a whole species of poets in one,

Admirable in a manner,

In which no one else has been tolerable ;

A manner which began and ended with him,

In which he knew no guide,

And found no followers.

P. xxi. On the versification of Hudibras, see Dry-
den's Ded. to Juvenal, 1735, p. 100; to which Johnson
alludes. See also Addison's Spectator, vol. i. No. ix.
See also Prior's Alma, (c. ii. imit).

But shall we take the muse abroad,
To drop her idly on the road 1
And leave our subject in the middle,
As Butler did his bear and fiddle ?
Yet he, consummate master, knew
When to recede and when pursue.
His noble negligences teach
What others toils despair to reach.
He, perfect dancer, climbs the rope,
And balances your fear and hope ;

NOTES.

If, after some distinguish'd leap,
He drops his pole, and seems to slip,
Straight gathering all his active strength,
He rises higher half his length.
With wonder you approve his slight,
And owe your pleasure to your fright.
But like poor Andrew 1 advance,
False mimic of my master's dance.
Around the cord a while I sprawl,
And thence, though low, in earnest fall.

APPENDIX.

I. BUTLER'S Hudibras ; the first part printed by T. G.
for Richard Marriott, under St. Dunstan's Church, Fleet
Street, 1663, 8vo. p. 268.1 In the Mercurius Aulicus,
Jan. 1-8, 1662, is an advertisement. — There is stolen
abroad a most false and imperfect copy of Hudibras,
without name, either of printer or bookseller; the true
and perfect edition printed by the author's original, is
sold by Richard Marriott, near St. Dunstan's Church, in
Fleet Street. That other nameless impression is a cheat,
and will but abuse the buyer as well as the author, whose
poem deserves to have fallen into better hands.

II. Hudibras, the second part, 1663. This spurious
second part was published after Butler had printed his
first part, and before he printed the second, and is very
scarce. It ran through three editions in the same year ;
the first two do not differ except in the type. But
there was another edition still, " Hudibras, the second
part, with the continuation of the third canto, to which
is added a fourth canto."

Hudibras ; the second part, by the author of the first ;
printed by T. R. for John Martyn and James Allestrey, at
the Bell, in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1664, 8vo. and 12mo.
It has on the title page a wood-cut, with the publishers'

1 I have also met with ' Mercurius Menippeus, the Loyal
Satirist, or Hudibras in Prose ; written by an unknown
hand, in the time of the late rebellion, but never till now
published, 1682,' a curious tract.

XXXV111 APPENDIX.

device, a bell, and the letters at bottom, M. A. In the
Mercurius Publicus for Nov. 20, 1663, is this very
singular advertisement. — " Newly published, the second
part of Hudibras, by the author of the former, which (if
possible) has outdone the first." — In the B. Museum
(Misc. Pap. Bibl. Birch. No. 4293), is the following
injunction : — Charles R., our will and pleasure is, and
we do hereby strictly charge and command, that no
printer, bookseller, stationer, or other person, whatsoever
within our kingdom of England, or Ireland, do print,
reprint, utter, or sell, or cause to be printed, reprinted,
uttered, or sold, a book or poem, called Hudibras, or any
part thereof,without the consent and approbation of Samuel
Boteler, Esq. or his assigns, as they, and every of them
will answer the contrary at their perils. Given at our
Court at Whitehall, the 10th day of September, in the
year of our Lord God, 1677, and in the 29th year of our
reign, by his Majesty's command. T. Berkenhead.

Hudibras ; the third and last part, written by the
author of the first and second parts ; printed for Simon
Miller, at the sign of the Star, at the west end of
St. Paul's, 1678, 8vo. p. 285. This part had no notes
during the author's life, and who inserted them after-
wards, is not known.

-The first and second parts were republished in 1674-
Hudibras, the first and second parts, written in the time
of the late wars, corrected and amended with several
additions and annotations, London, 1674, part i. p. 202 ;
partii. pp. 223-412.

III. See some lines from the first canto of Hudibras,
admirably translated into Latin verse by Christopher
Smart, published in the Student ; or, Oxford and Cam-
bridge Miscellany, published by Thornton in 1750. —
See Beloe's Anecdotes, vol. vi. p. 419. Some also by
Dr. Harmer, Greek Professor at Oxford, may be seen
in the notes to the Biographia Britannica.

APPENDIX. XXXIX

IV. Dr. Grey's edition of Hudibras was published
first in 1744. See on it Gent. Mag., 1819, vol.xii. N. S.
p. 416, Dr. Grey's valuable but incorrect edition. In
Grey's edition the Meditations of Justice Adam Overdo
in the stocks are inserted from B. Jonson's Bartholomew
Fair. The soliloquy is ingeniously split into a dialogue,
and one-half given to Adam, the other half to Overdo.
The consulship of Julius and Caesar was nothing to this."
Dr. Grey left large additional notes, designed for a new
edition, which were in the hands of Mr. Nichols. As
regards the posthumous works of Butler (v. Life, p. xv.)
it appears from the authority of Mr. Thyer that very
few (only three) of them are authentic. Jacob, in his
Lives of the Dramatic Poets, p. 21, says " not one line
of those poems lately published under his (Butler's)
name is genuine." See also Gent. Mag. May, 1819,
vol. xii. N. S. p. 417, and Thyer's Remains, vol. i.
p. 145, 302, 327. One passage occurs in the speech of
the Earl of Pembroke which is curious from its strong
verbal coincidence with a passage in Burke's will —
" My will is that I have no monument, for then I must
have epitaphs and verses, but all my life long I have
had too much of them," v. Burke's Will, in Bisset's
Life, p. 578. " I desire that no monument beyond a
middle-sized tablet, with a small and simple inscription
on the church-wall, or on the flag stone, be erected ; but
/ have had in my life time but too much of noise and
compliment."

V. John Townley, the translator of Hudibras, was an
officer of the Irish brigade, and a knight of the military
order of St. Louis, he was uncle to Charles Townley, Esq.
who possessed the marbles and statues. See Nichol's
Hogarth, p. 145, and Notice sur la vie et les cents de
M. Larcher, p. 135, in Class. Journal, No. xix. When
the critical reviewers reviewed Tytler's Essay on Trans-
lation, they would not believe in the existence of this
book, it was so scarce. See Beloe's Anecdotes, i. p..216,

VOL. i. d

Xl APPENDIX.

220. The publication was superintended by M. L' Abbe
Turberville Needham, and illustrated with notes by
Larcher. There is an engraving of Mr. Townley by
Skelton, with the following inscription : —

Ad impertiendum amicis inter Gallos

Linguae Anglicanae nonnihil peritis

Facetum poema Hudibras dictum

Accurate, festiveque gallice convertit

Hie Johannes Towneley

Caroli Towneley de Towneley

In agro Lancastriensi armigeri filius

Nat. A. D. 1679. Denat. A. D. 1782.

Grato, pioque animo fieri curavit

Johannes Towneley, nepos 1797.

lleprinted, Paris, 1819, 12mo. 3 vols. said to be a faithful
reprint with the addition of notes by Larcher, and a Key
to Hudibras by Zottin le jeune, and some account of the
translator.

From the Literary Cyclopedia, p. 83.

VI. In estimating the poem of Hudibras, we should
consider that genius takes every variety of form, adapts
itself to every change of circumstance, and out of every
object selects, according to its purpose, what is most
essential to the view of truth, the exhibition of beauty or
the chastisement of folly. There are conventional notions
on the subject which would restrict the honours of genius
to the few master minds which have led to the discovery
of some great laws of nature, or displayed the highest
forms of creative imagination. But it is sometimes as
great proof of genius to draw pictures from daily and
familiar life, and to work upon its elements, as it is to
soar above them ; and it is still a question for the philo-
sophical critic to decide, whether to raise a gorgeous
pyramid of dreams out of the abstractions of thought,
be a higher task to master the fallacies of existence,
and paint reality in all its strange and grotesque com-

APPENDIX. X.l

binations. The author of Hudibras might alone afford
scope to a controversy of this nature, for while he
presents few, if any, of those characteristics which
belong to the loftier class of minds, he so wonderfully
adopts whatever is to be found in the actual world, or
learnt from books, as to make his memorable lesson
against bigotry one of the most remarkable productions
of human ingenuity. But whatever may be the class to
which Butler belongs in the Temple of Fame, there can
only be one opinion respecting the value of his works, as
a rich collection of lively sarcasms, often intermingled
with wit on those errors and foibles of human nature,
which at once verge upon extravagance and mischief. A
practical observer of the world, and an active sharer
in its concerns, Butler never forgets the pleasant and
every day character of mankind. His mind was tho-
roughly impressed with the subject on which he wrote,
and that subject embraced the whole circle of motives,
which set society in action at the period when he lived.
His wit is consequently often spent upon follies which
are no longer conspicuous, and his experience made
lessons which it would now be unprofitable to study.
There is yet so much imperishable wisdom in his
writings — so many warnings against evil tempers and ab-
surdities, of which the seeds have never to this hour
been eradicated from human nature, that Butler may
still be estimated as one of the noblest writers of sen-
tentious maxims to be found in the English language.

VII. From Retrospective Review, vol. iii. 307.

LIST OF THE IMITATIONS OF HUDIBRAS.

1 Hudibras, second part London 1663

2 Butler's Ghost; or, Hudibras, the fourth part ... 1682

3 Hogan Moganides ; or, the Dutch Hudibras 1674

4 The Irish Hudibras ; or, Fingallian Prince, Sec. . 1689

.} The Whig's Supplication, by S. Colvil 1695

6 Pendragon ; or, the Carpet Knight, his Kalendar . 1698

Xlll APPENDIX.

7 The Dissenting Hypocrite ; or, Occasional Con-

formist 1704

8 Vulgus Britannicus ; or, the British Hudibras, in

fifteen cantos, &c. by the Author of the Lon-
don Spy, second edition 1710

9 Hudibras Redivivus, &c. by E. Ward, no date.

10 The Republican Procession ; or, the Tumultuous

Cavalcade, second edition 1714

11 The Hudibrastic Brewer, a satire on the former

(No. 10) 1714

12 Four Hudibrastic Cantos, being poems on four of

the greatest heroes 1715

13 Posthumous Works in Prose and Verse of Mr. S.

Butler, 3 vols. 12mo. 1720, and in 1 vol 1754

14 England's Reformation, &c., a Poem, by Thomas

Ward 1747

15 The Irish Hudibras, Hesperi-neso-graphia, by

William Moffet, 1755, a reprint of No. 4.

1 6 The Poetical Works of William Meston 1767

17 The Alma of Matthew Prior.

For a very judicious and elegant criticism on the
merits and defects of these various poems, the reader is
advised to consult the article in the work from which
our list is taken. The present editor, who has carefully
read most of the above poems, bears his testimony to
the truth and justice of the observations upon them.

" Pope, in classing the English poets for his projected
discourse on the rise and progress of English Poetry,
has considered Sir John Mennis and Thomas Baynal as
the original of Hudibras. See Dr. Warton's Essays.
Some of these pieces certainly partake of the wit, raillery,
and playful versification of Butler ; and this collection, it
is just to remember, made its appearance eight years
before the publication of Hudibras. Dr. Farmer has
traced much of Butler in Cleveland." Musarum Deliciae,
first printed, 1655.

APPENDIX. xliii

VIII. An Epitaph on James Duke of Hamilton.

He that three kingdoms made one flame,
Blasted their beauty, burnt the frame,
Himself now here in ashes lies,
A part of this great Sacrifice :
Here all of HAMILTON remains,
Save what the other world contains.
But (Reader) it is hard to tell
Whether that world be Heav'n, or Hell.
A Scotch man enters Hell at 's birth,
And 'scapes it when he goes to earth,
Assur'd no worse a Hell can come
Than that which he enjoy 'd at home.

Now did the Royall Workman botch
This Duke, \\a\fe-Eriglish, and halfe-ScofcA /
A Scot an English Earldom fits,
As Purple doth your Marmuzets ;
Suits like Nol Cromwell with the Crown,
Or Bradshaw in his Scarlet-gown.
Yet might he thus disguis'd (no lesse)
Have slipt to Heav'n in 's English dresse,
But that he'in hope of life became
This mystick Proteus too as well
Might cheat the Devill 'scape his Hell,
Since to those pranks he pleas'd to play
Religion ever pav'd the way ;
Which he did to a Faction tie,
Not to reforme but crucifie.
Twas he that first alarm'd the Kirke
To this prepost'rous bloody worke,
Upon the King's to place Christ's throne,
A step and foot-stoole to his owne ;
Taught Zeal a hundred tumbling tricks,
And Scriptures twin'd with Politicks ;

APPENDIX.

The Pulpit made a Jugler's Box,

Set Law and Gospell in the Stocks,

As did old Buchanan and Knox,

In those daies when (at once1) the Pox

And Presbyters a way did find

Into the world to plague mankind.

'Twas he patch'd up the new Divine,

Part Calvin, and part Catiline,

Could too transforme (without a Spell)

Satan into a Gabriel ;

Just like those pictures which we paint

On this side Fiend, on that side Saint.

Both this, and that, and every thing

He was ; for and against the King :

Rather than he his ends would misse,

Betray 'd his Master with a kisse,

And buri'd in one common Fate

The glory of our Church and State :

The Crown too levell'd on the ground ;

And having rook't all parties round,

'Faith it was time then to be gone,

Since he had all his businesse done.

Next on the fatall Block expir'd,

He to this Marble-Cell retir'd ;

Where all of HAMILTON remains

But what Eternity contains.

Digitus Dei, or God's Justice upon Treachery and
Treason, exemplified in the Life and Death of
the late James Duke of Hamilton, whereto is
added an Epitaph upon him. 4to. London, 1649.

This poem is ascribed to Marchamont Needham. It
is curious as being much in the style of Butler, and
being published fourteen years before Hudibras ap-
peared.

1 The Pox, Presbytery, and Jesuiti&me, are of the sum*
standing.

APPENDIX. Xlv

As it has been said, on the authority of Pope, that
Butler was indebted for the peculiarities of his style to
" Musarum Deliciae, or Wit's Recreation ;" and as that
work is not in the possession of any but a few persons
who are curious in poetry, it has been thought advisable
to afford an extract or two from it. It was first printed
in 1655.

" A letter to Sir John Mennis, when the Parliament
denied the King money to pay the army, unless a priest,
whom the King had reprieved, might be executed. Sir
John at the same time wanting the money for provisions
for his troop, desired me by his letter to goe to the
priest, and to persuade him to dye for the good of the
army, saying,

What is't for him to hang an houre,
To give an army strengthe and power 1"

THE REPLY.

By my last letter, John, thou see'st
What I have done to soften priest,
Yet could not with all I could say
Persuade him hang, to get thee pay.
Thou swad, quoth he, I plainly see
The army wants no food by thee.
Fast oft'ner, friend, or if you'll eate,
Use oaten straw, or straw of wheate ;
They'l serve to moderate thy jelly,
And (which it needs) take up thy belly.
As one that in a taverne breakes
A glasse, steales by the barre and sneaks,
At this rebuke, with no less haste, 1
Trudg'd from the priest and prison hasty.
The truth is, he gave little credit
To th' armies wants, because I said it ;
And if you'll press it further, John,
'Tis fit you send a learned man.
For thou with ease can friends expose.
For thy behoof, to fortune's blows.

xlvi APPENDIX.

Suppose we being found together,

Had pass'd for birds of the same feather,

I had perchance been shrewdly shent,

And maul'd too by the Parliament.

Have you beheld the unlucky ape

For roasted chestnuts mump and gape,

And offering at them with his pawes,

But loath he is to scorch his clawes.

When viewing on the hearth asleep

A puppy, gives him cause to weep,

To spare his own, he takes his helpe,

And rakes out nuts with foot of whelpe ;

Which done, as if 'twere all but play,

Your name-sake looks another way.

The cur awakes, and finds his thumbs

In paine, but knows not whence it comes ;

He takes it first to be some cramp,

And now he spreads, now licks his vamp.

Both are in vain, no ease appeares ;

What should he doe 1 he shakes his eares ;

And hobling on three legs, he goes

W7hining away with aking toes.

Not in much better case perhaps,

I might have been to serve thy chaps,

And have bestrewed my finger's end

For groping so in cause of friend ;

Whilst thou wouldst munch like horse in manger,

And reach at nuts with others' danger,

Yet have I ventured far to serve

My friend that says — he's like to starve.

" An Answer to a letter from Sir John Mennis, wherein
he jeeres him for falling so quickly to the use of the
Directory."

Friend, thou dost lash me with a story,
A long one too, of Directory ;
When thou alone deserves the birch,
That brought'st the bondage on the Church.
Didst thou not treat for 13ristow City
And yield it up ? — the more's the pity.
And saw'st thou not, how right or wrong
The Common Prayer-Book went along ?
' Didst thou not scource, as if enchanted,
For articles Sir Thomas granted ;

APPENDIX. x

And barter, as an author saith,
Th' articles o' th' Christian faith?
And now the Directory jostles
Christ out o' th' church and his Apostles,
And teares clown the communion rayles,
That men may take it on their tayles.
Imagine, friend, Bochus the King,
Engraven on Sylla's signet ring,
Delivering open to his hands
Jugurth, and with him all the lands,
Whom Sylla tooke and sent to Rome,
There to abide the Senate's doome.

In the same fortune, I suppose

John standing in 's doublet and hose ;

Delivering up amidst the throng

The common prayer and Wisdom's song

To hands of Fairfax, to be sent

A sacrifice to the Parliament.

Thou little thought'st what geare begun

Wrapt in that treaty, busie John.

There lurked the fire that turned to cinder

The Church — her ornaments to tinder.

There bound up in that treaty lyes

The fate of all our Christmas pyes.

Our holy-dayes then went to wrack,

Our wakes were layd upon their back,

Our gossips' spoones away were lurch'd,

Our feastes, and fees for woemen church'd ;

All this and more ascribe we might

To thee at Bristow, wretched knight.

Yet thou upbraidst and raylst in rime

On me, for that, which was thy crime.

So /reward children in the sun

Amid their sports, some shrewd turne done,

The faulty youth begins to prate

And layes it on his harmlesse mate.

Dated "

From Nijmptom, where the Cyder smiles,
And James has horse as lame as Gyles.
The fourth of May : and dost thou heare,
'Tis, as I take it, the eighth yeare
Since Portugall by Duke Braganza
Was cut from Spaine without a handsaw.

APPENDIX.

Account of Mr. Samuel Butler, from Aubrey's Letters,
in the Bodleian Library, edited by Dr. Bliss.

IX. Mr. Samuel Butler was borne at Pershore, in
Worcestershire, as we suppose ; l his brother lives there :
went to schoole at Worcester. His father a man but of
slender fortune, and to breed him at schoole was as much
education as he was able to reach to. When but a boy,
he would make observations and reflections on every
thing one sayd or did, and censure it to be either well
or ill. He never was at the university for the reason
alledged. He came when a young man to be a servant
to the Countesse of Kent,2 whom he served severall
yeares. Here, besides his study, he employed his time
much in painting3 and drawing, and also in musique.
He was thinking once to have made painting his pro-
fession.4 His love to and skill in painting made a great
friendship between him and Mr. Samuel Cowper (the
prince of limners of this age). He then study ed the
common lawes of England, but did not practise. He
maried a good jointuresse, the relict of .... Morgan, by
which meanes he lives comfortably. After the restau-
ration of his matie, when the courte at Ludlowe was
againe sett up, he was then the king's steward at the

1 He was born in Worcestershire, bard by Barton-bridge,
f a mile from Worcester, in the parish of Sl John, Mr. Hill
thinkes, who went to schoole with him.

2 Mr. Saunders (ye Countesse of Kent's kinsman) sayd
that Mr. J. Selden much esteemed him for his partes, and
would sometimes employ him to write letters for him be-
yond sea, and to translate for him. He was secretaire to
the D. of Bucks, when he was Chancellor of Cambridge.
He might have had preferments at first ; but be would not
accept any but very good, so at last he had none at all, and
dyed in want.

3 He painted well, and made it (sometime) bis profession.
He wayted some yeares on tbe Countess of Kent. She
gave her gent. 20 lib. per an. a-piece.

4 From Dr. Duke.

APPENDIX.

castle there. He printed a witty poerae called Hudibras,
the first part A° 166 . which tooke extremely, so that the
king and Lord Chanc. Hyde would have him sent for,
and accordingly he was sent for. (The Ld Ch. Hyde
hath his picture i» his library over the chimney.) They
both promised him great matters, but to this day he has
got no employment, only the king gave him .... lib.

He is of a middle stature, strong sett, high coloured,
a head of sorrell haire, a severe and sound judgement :
a good fellowe. He hath often sayd that way (e. g.
Mr. Edw. Waller's) of quibling with sence will here-
after growe as much out of fashion and be as ridicule 5
as quibling with words. 2d. N. B. He hath been much
troubled with the gowt, and particularly, 1679, he stirred
not out of his chamber from October till Easter.

He6 dyed of a consumption Septemb. 25 (Anno Dni
1680, 70 circiter), and buried 27, according to his owne
appointment in the churchyard of Covent Garden ; sc. in
the north part next the church at the east end. His feet
touch the wall. His grave, 2 yards distant from the
pillaster of the dore, (by his desire) 6 foot deepe.

About 25 of his old acquaintance at his funeral : I
myself being one.

HVDIBRAS UNPRINTED.

Xo Jesuite ever took in hand

To plant a church in barren land ;

Or ever thought it worth his while

A Swede or Russe to reconcile.

For where there is not store of wealth,

Souls are not worth the chandge of health.

Spaine and America had designes

To sell their Ghospell for their wines,

For had the Mexicans been poore,

No Spaniard twice had landed on their shore.

'Twas Gold the Catholic Religion planted,

Which, bad they wanted Gold, they still had wanted.

4 [Sir. Edit.]

6 [Evidently written some time after the former part. E.]

1 APPENDIX.

He had made very sharp reflexions upon the court in
his last part.

Writt my Lord (John 7) Rosse's Answer to the Marquesse
of Dorchester.

Memorandum. Satyricall vvitts disoblige whom they
converse with, &c. consequently make to themselves
many enemies and few friends, and this was his manner
and case. He was of a leonine-coloured haire, sanguine,
cliolerique, middle sized, strong.

7 [In the hand-writing of Anthony a Wood. Edit.]

HUDIBRAS.

PART I. CANTO I.

THE ARGUMENT.

Sir Hudihras his passing worth,
The manner how he sally 'd forth,
His arms and equipage are shown,
His horse's virtues and his own :
Th' adventure of the Bear and Fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.*

WHEN civil dudgeon first grew high,

And men fell out they knew not why ;

When hard words, jealousies, and fears,

Set folks together by the ears,

And made them fight, like mad or drunk, 5

For Dame Religion as for punk ;

Whose honesty they all durst swear for,

Though not a man of them knew wherefore ;

* A ridicule on Ronsarde and Davenant.

1 VAR. ' Civil fury.' — To take in ' dudgeon' is inwardly to
resent some injury or affront, and what is previous to actual
fury.

2 It may be justly said, ' They knew not why ;' since, as
Lord Clarendon observes, " The like peace and plenty, and
universal tranquillity, was never enjoyed by any nation for
ten years together, before those unhappy troubles began."

3 By 'hard words' he probably means the cant words
used by the Presbyterians and sectaries of those times ;
such as Gospel-walking, Gospel-preaching, Soul-saving,
Elect, Saints, the Godly, the Predestinate, and the like ;
which they applied to their own preachers and themselves.

VOL. I. B

2 HUDIBRAS.

When Gospel-trumpeter, surrounded

With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded ; 10

And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic,

Was beat with fist instead of a stick ;

Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling,

And out he rode a-colonelling.

A wight he was, whose very sight would 15

Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood,

That never bow'd his stubborn knee

To any thing but chivalry,

Nor put up blow, but that which laid

Right Worshipful on shoulder blade ; 20

Chief of domestic knights and errant,

Either for chartel or for warrant ;

Great on the bench, great in the saddle,

That could as well bind o'er as swaddle ;

11 12 Alluding to their vehement action in the pulpit, and
their beating it with their fists, as if they were beating u
drum.

13 Our author, to make his Knight appear more ridiculous,
has dressed him in all kinds of fantastic colours, and put
many characters together to finish him a perfect coxcomb.

14 The Knight (if Sir Samuel Luke was Mr. Butler's
hero) was not only a Colonel in the Parliament army, but
also Scoutmaster-general in the counties of Bedford, Surrey,
&c. This gives us some light into his character and con-
duct ; for he is now entering upon his proper office, full of
pretendedly pious and sanctified resolutions for the good of
his country. His peregrinations are so consistent with his
office and humour, that they are no longer to be called
fabulous or improbable.

17 18 i.e. He kneeled to the king, when he knighted him,
but seldom upon any other occasion.

22 ' Chartel' is a challenge to a duel.

23 In this character of Hudibras all the abuses of human
learning are finely satirised : philosophy, logic, rhetoric,
mathematics, metaphysics, and school-divinity.

PART I. CANTO I. 3

Mighty he was at both of these, 25

And styl'd of War, as well as Peace :

(So some rats, of amphibious nature,

Are either for the land or water).

But here our Authors make a doubt

Whether he were more wise or stout : 30

Some hold the one, and some the other,

But, howsoe'er they make a pother,

The difference was so small, his brain

Outweigh'd his rage but half a grain ;

Which made some take him for a tool 35

That knaves do work with, call'd a Fool.

For 't has been held by many, that

As Montaigne, playing with his cat,

Complains she thought him but an ass,

Much more she would Sir Hudibras : 40

(For that's the name our valiant Knight

To all his challenges did write).

But they're mistaken very much ;

'Tis plain enough he was not such.

We grant, although he had much wit, 45

H' was very shy of using it,

As being loth to wear it out,

And therefore bore it not about ;

Unless on holy days or so,

As men their best apparel do. 50

Beside, 'tis known he could speak Greek

As naturally as pigs squeak ;

That Latin was no more difficile,

Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle :

Being rich in both, he never scanted 55

His bounty unto such as wanted ;

56 This is the property of a pedantic coxcomb, who
prates most learnedly amongst illiterate persons, and makes

4 HUDIBRAS.

But much of either would afford

To many that had not one word.

For Hebrew roots, although they're found

To flourish most in barren ground, 60

He had such plenty as suffic'd

To make some think him circumcis'd ;

And truly so he was, perhaps,

Not as a proselyte, but for claps.

He was in logic a great critic, 65

Profoundly skill'd in analytic ;
He could distinguish, and divide
A hair 'twixt south and south-west side ;
On either which he would dispute,
Confute, change hands, and still confute : 70

He'd undertake to prove, by force
Of argument, a man's no horse ;
He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl,
And that a lord may be an owl ;
A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, 75

And rooks Committee-men and Trustees.

a mighty pother about books and languages, where he is
sure to be admired, though not understood,
es 64 VAR> ' And truly so perhaps he was,

JTis many a pious Christian's case.'

75 Such was Alderman Pennington, who sent a person to
Newgate for singing (what he called) ' a malignant psalm.'

Lord Clarendon observes, " That after the declaration of
No more addresses to the King, they who were not above
the condition of ordinary constables six or seven years be-
fore, were now the justices of the peace." Dr. Bruno Ry ves
informs us, " That the town of Chelmsford in Essex was
governed, at the beginning of the Rebellion, by a tinker,
two cobblers, two tailors, and two pedlers."

76 In the several counties, especially the Associated ones
(Middlesex, Kent, Surrey, Sussex, Norfolk, Suffolk, and
Cambridgeshire) which sided with the Parliament, com-

PART I. CAXTO I. 5

He'd run in debt by disputation,

And pay with ratiocination :

All this by syllogism, true

In mood and figure he would do.

For rhetoric, he could not ope

His mouth, but out there flew a trope ;

And when he happen'd to break off

I' th' middle of his speech, or cough,

H' had hard words ready to show why,

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 pleas'd to show 't, his speech,

In loftiness of sound, was rich ;

A Babylonish dialect,

Which learned pedants much affect;

It was a party-cokmr'd dress 95

Of patch'd and pyebald 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 ;

mittees were erected of such men as were for the Good
Cause, as they called it, who had authority, from the mem-
bers of the two Houses at Westminster, to fine and imprison
whom they pleased.

0 HUDIBRAS.

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 ; no

Words so debas'd and hard, no stone

Was hard enough to touch them on ;

And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em,

The ignorant for current took 'em ;

That had the orator, who once 115

Did fill his mouth with pebble stones

When he harangu'd, but known his phrase,

He would have us'd no other ways.

In mathematics he was greater

Than Tycho Brahe or Erra Pater ; 120

For he, by geometric scale,

Could take the size of pots of ale ;

Resolve by sines and tangents straight

If bread or butter wanted weight ;

And wisely tell what hour o' th' day 125

The clock does strike, by Algebra.

Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher,

And had read ev'ry text and gloss over ;

Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath,

109 The Presbyterians coined a great number, such as
Out-goings, Carryings-on, Nothingness, Workings-out,
Gospel- walking-times, &c. which we shall meet with here-
after in the speeches of the Knight and Squire, and others,
in this Poem; for which they are bantered by Sir John
Birkenhead.

115 Demosthenes is here meant, who had a defect in
his speech.

120 An eminent Danish mathematician ; and William
Lilly, the famous astrologer of those times.

PART I. CANTO I. '

He understood b' implicit faith : iso

Whatever sceptic could enquire for,

For ev'iy 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 serv'd, would quote ;

No matter whether right or wrong ;

They might be either said or sung.

His notions fitted things so well,

That which was which he could not tell, 1*0

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, 1*5

The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly ;

Where truth in person does appear,

Like words congeal'd in northern air.

He knew what's what, and that's as high

As metaphysic wit can fly : iso

In school-divinity as able

As he that hight Irrefragable ;

A second Thomas, or, at once

131 VAU. « Inquere.'

145 VAU. ' He'd tell where Entity and Quiddity.'

155 Alexander Hales was born in Gloucestershire, and
flourished about the year 1236, at the time when what was
called School-divinity was much in vogue ; in which science
he was so deeply read, that he was called ' Doctor Irrefra-
gabilis ;' that is, the ' Invincible Doctor,' whose arguments
could not' be resisted.

)53 Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican friar, was born in

8 HUDIBRAS.

To name them all, another Dunce :

Profound in all the Nominal 155

'And Real ways beyond them all :

1224, studied at Cologne and at 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
seek after them. He died in the fiftieth year of his age,
and was canonized by Pope John XXII. We have his
works in eighteen volumes, several times printed.

154 Johannes Dunscotus was a very learned man, who
lived about the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the
fourteenth century. The English and Scots strive which of
them shall have the honour of his birth. The English say
he was born in Northumberland ; the Scots allege he was
born at Dunse in the Merse, the neighbouring county to
Northumberland, and hence was called ' Dunscotus :'
Moreri, Buchanan, and other Scotch historians, are of this
opinion, and for proof, cite his epitaph ;

Scotia me genuit, Anglia suscepit,
Gallia edocuit, Germania tenet.

He died at Cologne, Nov. 8, 1308. In the ' Supplement '
to Dr. Cave's ' Historia Literaria,' he is said to be extra-
ordinary learned in physics, metaphysics, mathematics, and
astronomy; that his fame was so great when at Oxford,
that 30,000 scholars came thither to hear his lectures :
that when at Paris, his arguments and authority carried it
for the immaculate conception of the Blessed Virgin, so
that they appointed a festival on that account, and would
admit no scholars to degrees but such as were of this mind.
He was a great opposer of Thomas Aquinas's doctrine ;
and for being a very acute logician, was called ' Doctor
Subtilis,' which was the reason also that an old punster
always called him the ' Lathy Doctor.'

iss 156 Qulielmus Occham was father of the Nominals,
and Johannes Dunscotus of the Reals.

PART I. CANTO I.

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 lodgings in a head

That's to be let unfurnished.

He could raise scruples dark and nice,

And after solve 'em in a trice ;

As if Divinity had catch'd 165

The itch, on purpose to be scratch'd ;

Or, like a mountebank, did wound

And stab herself writh doubts profound,

Only to show with how small pain

The sores of Faith are cur'd again ; 170

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 ; iso

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, i&5

157 iss yAR < And with as delicate a hand

Could twist as tough a rope of sand.'

lfil Several of the Ancients have supposed that Adam
and Eve had no navels ; and, among the Moderns, the late
learned Bishop Cumberland was of this opinion

10 IIUDJBRAS.

He could unriddle in a moment,

In proper terms, such as men smatter

When they throw out and miss the matter.

For his religion, 'it was fit

To match his learning and his wit : 190

'Twas Presbyterian true blue ;
For he was of that stubborn crew
Of errant saints, whom all men grant
To be the true Church Militant ;
Such as do build their faith upon 195

The holy text of pike and gun ;
Decide all controversies by
Infallible artillery;
And prove their doctrine orthodox,
By Apostolic blows and knocks ; 200

Call fire and sword, and desolation,
A godly, thorough Reformation,
Which always must be carry'd on,
And still be doing, never done ;
As if Religion were intended 205

193 194 \Vhere Presbytery has been established, it has
been usually effected by force of arms, like the religion of
Mahomet : thus it was established at Geneva in Switzer-
land, Holland, Scotland, &c. In France, for some time,
by that means, it obtained a toleration ; much blood was
shed to get it established in England : and once, during
that Grand Rebellion, it seemed very near gaining an
establishment here.

195 we upon these Cornet Joyce built his faith, when he
carried away the King, by force, from Holdenby : for,
when his Majesty asked him for a sight of his Instructions,
Joyce said, he should see them presently; and so drawing
up his troop in the inward court, " These, Sir (said the
Cornet), are my Instructions."

199 200 ]viany instances of that kind are given by Dr.
Walker, in his ' Sufferings of the Episcopal Clergy.'

PART I. CANTO I. 11

For nothing else but to be mended :

A sect whose chief devotion lies

In odd perverse antipathies ;

In falling out with that or this,

And finding somewhat still amiss ; 210

More peevish, cross, and splenetic,

Than dog distract, or monkey sick :

That with more care keep holyday

The wrong, than others the right way ;

Compound for sins they are inclin'd to, 215

By damning those they have no mind to :

Still so perverse and opposite,

As if they worshipp'd God for spite :

The self-same thing they will abhor

One way, and long another for : 220

Freewill they one way disavow,

Another, nothing else allow :

All piety consists therein

In them, in other men all sin :

Rather than fail, they will defy 2:5

That which they love most tenderly ;

Quarrel with minc'd-pies, and disparage

Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge ;

Fat pig and goose itself oppose,

And blaspheme custard through the nose. 230

Th' apostles of this fierce religion,

Like Mahomet's, were ass and widgeon,

207 The religion of the Presbyterians of those times
consisted principally in an opposition to the Church of
England, and in quarrelling with the most innocent cus-
toms then in use, as the eating Christmas-pies and plum-
porridge at Christmas ; which they reputed sinful.

213 214 They were so remarkably obstinate in this respect,
that they kept a fast upon Christmas-day.

12 HUDIBRAS.

To whom our Knight, by fast instinct

Of wit and temper, was so linkt,

As if hypocrisy and nonsense 2.35

Had got th' advowson of his conscience.

Thus was he gifted and accoutred,
We mean on th' inside, not the outward :
That next of all we shall discuss ;
Then listen, Sirs, it follows thus. 240

His tawny beard was th' equal grace
Both of his wisdom and his face ;
In cut and die so like a tile,
A sudden view it would beguile ;
The upper part whereof was whey, 245

The nether orange, mix'd with grey.
This hairy meteor did denounce
The fall of sceptres and of crowns ;
With grisly type did represent
Declining age of government, 250

235 236 j)r> Bruno Ryves gives a remarkable instance of
a fanatical conscience in a captain, who was invited by a
soldier to eat part of a goose with him ; but refused, be-
cause, he said, it was stolen : but being to march away, he
who would eat no stolen goose made no scruple to ride
away upon a stolen mare ; for, plundering Mrs. Bartlet of
her mare, this hypocritical captain gave sufficient testimony
to the world that the old Pharisee and new Puritan have
consciences of the self-same temper, " To strain at a gnat,
and swallow a camel."

241 Mr. Butler, in his description of Hudibras's beard,
seems to have had an eye to Jaques's description of the
Country Justice, in ' As you like it.' It may be asked,
Why the Poet is so particular upon the Knight's beard,
and gives it the preference to all his other accoutrements 1
The answer seems to be plain : the Knight had made a vow
not to cut it till the Parliament had subdued the King ;
hence it became necessary to have it fully described.

PARTI. CANTO I. 13

And tell, with hieroglyphic spade,
Its own grave and the State's were made :
Like Samson's heart-breakers, it grew
In time to make a nation rue ;
Though it contributed its own fall, 255

To wait upon the public downfall :
It was monastic, and did grow
In holy orders by strict vow.
Of rule as sullen and severe,
As that of rigid Cordeliere : 260

'Twas bound to suffer persecution,
And martyrdom, with resolution ;
T' oppose itself against the hate
And vengeance of th' incensed state,
In whose defiance it was worn, 265

Still ready to be pull'd and torn,
With red-hot irons to be tortured,
Revil'd, and spit upon, and martyr'd ;
Maugre all which 'twas 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 was consecrate,
A sacrifice to fall of state,

Whose thread of life the Fatal Sisters 275

Did twist together with its whiskers,
And twine so close, that Time should never,
In life or death, their fortunes sever,
But with his rusty sickle mow
Both down together at a blow. sso

So learned Taliacotius, from

257 VAR. It was ' canonic.'

281 Gasper Taliacotius was born at Bononia, A. D. 1553,

14 HUDIBRAS.

The brawny part of porter's bum,
Cut supplemental noses, which
Would last as long as parent breech,
But when the date of Nock was out -235

Off dropt the sympathetic snout.
His back, or rather burthen, show'd
As if it stoop'd with its own load :
For as JEneas bore his sire

Upon his shoulders through 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 victual, which anon
We further shall dilate upon,
When of his hose we come to treat,
The cupboard where he kept his meat.

His doublet was of sturdy buff, 305

And though not sword, yet cudgel-proof,
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use

and was Professor of physic and surgery there. He died
1599. His statue stands in the Anatomy theatre, holding
a nose in its hand. — He wrote a treatise in Latin called
' Chirurgia Nota,' in which he teaches the art of ingrafting
noses, ears, lips, &c. with the proper instruments and
bandages. This book has passed through two editions.
See ' Graefe de Rhinoplastice, sive arte curtum Nasum ad
Vivum restituendi Commentatio,' 4to. Berolin, 1818.

PART I. CAXTO I. 15

Who fear'd no blows but such as bruise.
His breeches were of rugged woollen,
And had been at the siege of Bullen ; 310

To Old King Harry so well known,
Some writers held they were his own :
Through they were lin'd with many a piece
Of ammunition bread and cheese,
And fat black-puddings, proper food 315

For warriors that delight in blood.
For, as we said, he always chose
To carry vittle in his hose,
That often tempted rats and mice
The ammunition to surprise ; 320

And when he put a hand but in
The one or t'other magazine,
They stoutly in defence on't stood,
And from the wounded foe drew blood ;
And, till th' were storm'd and beaten out, sco

Ne'er left the fortify 'd redoubt.
And though knights-errant, as some think,
Of old did neither eat nor drink,
Because when thorough deserts vast
And regions desolate they past, 3;o

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, 3.5

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 : ^3*0

16 HUDIBRAS.

Though 'twas no table some suppose,

But a huge pair of round trunk -hose,

In which he carry'd as much meat

As he and all the knights could eat,

When, laying by their swords and truncheons, 345

They took their breakfasts or their nuncheons.

But let that pass at present, lest

We should forget where we digrest,

As learned authors use, to whom

We leave it, and to th' purpose come. 350

His puissant sword unto his side,
Near his undaunted heart, was tied,
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, afio

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 show its face.
In many desperate attempts

Of warrants, exigents, contempts, 370

It had appear'd with courage bolder
Than Serjeant Bum invading shoulder :
Oft had it ta'en possession,
And pris'ners too, or made them run.

PART I. CAXTO I. 17

This sword a dagger had, his page, .-575

That was but little for his age,
And therefore waited on him so
As dwarfs upon knights-errant do,
It was a serviceable dudgeon,
Either for fighting or for drudging : sso

When it had stabb'd, or broke a head,
It would scrape trenchers, or chip bread ;
Toast cheese or bacon ; though it were
To bate a mouse-trap, 'twould not care :
'T would make clean shoes, and in the earth SBO
Set leeks and onions, and so forth :
It had been 'prentice to a brewer,
Where this and more it did endure,
But left the trade as many more
Have lately done on. the same score.

In th' holsters at his saddle-bow
Two aged 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,
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 every night stood sentinel,
To guard the magazine i' th' hose
From two-legg'd and from four-legg'd foes.

Thus clad and fortify'd Sir Knight
From peaceful home set forth to fight.
But first with nimble active force 405

He got on th' outside of his horse :
For having but one stirrup ty'd
T' his saddle on the further side,

VOL. i. c

18 IIUDIBRAS.

It was so short h' had much ado

To reach it with his desp'rate toe ;

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 115

With his own weight, but did recover

By laying hold on tail and mane,

Which oft he us'd instead of rein.

But now we talk of mounting steed,
Before we further do proceed, 4eo

It doth behove us to say something
Of that which bore our valiant Bumkin.
The beast was sturdy, large, and tall,
With mouth of meal and eyes of wall,
I would say eye, for h' had but one, 4:5

As most agree, though some say none.
He was well stay'd, and in his gate
Preserv'd a grave, majestic state ;
At spur or switch no more he skipt
Or mended pace than Spaniard whipt, 4:50

And yet so fiery, he would bound
As if he griev'd to touch the ground ;
That Caesar's horse, who, as fame goes,
Had corns upon his feet and toes,
Was not by half so tender hooft, 4 r>

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. 4M>

We shall not need to say what lack
Of leather was upon his back,

PART I. CAXTO I. 19

For that was hidden under pad,

And breech of Knight g'all'd full as bad.

His strutting ribs on both sides show'd 445

Like furrows he himself had plough'd ;

For underneath the skirt of pannel,

'Twixt ev'ry two there was a channel.

His draggling tail hung in the dirt,

Which on his rider he would flirt, i:<>

Still as his tender side he prickt,

With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd, kickt :

For Hudibras wore but one spur,

As wisely knowing could he stir

To active trot one side of 's horse, 455

The other would not hang an arse.

A Squire he had whose name was Ralph,
That in th' adventure went his half,
Though writers, for more stately tone,
Do call him Ralpho, 'tis all one ; 460

And when we can, with metre safe,
We'll call him so ; if not, plain Ralph ;
(For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses) :
An equal stock of wit and valour 4f5

He had laid in, by birth a tailor.
The mighty Tyrian queen, that gain'd
With subtle shreds a tract of land,
Did leave it with a castle fair
To his great ancestor, her heir ; 470

457 Sir Roger L'Estrange (' Key to Hudibras ') says, this
famous Squire was one Isaac Robinson, a zealous butcher
in Moorfields, who was always contriving some new querpo
cut in church government : but, in a ' Key' at the end of a
burlesque poem of Mr. Butler's, 1706, in folio, p. 12, it is
observed, "That Hudibras's Squire was one Pemble, a
tailor, and one of the Committee of Sequestrators."

IIUDIBRAS.

From him descended cross-legg'd knights,

Fam'd for their faith and warlike fights

Against the bloody Cannibal,

Whom they destroy 'd both great and small.

This sturdy Squire he had, as well 475

As the bold Trojan knight, seen hell,

Not with a counterfeited pass

Of golden bough, but true gold-lace :

His knowledge was not far behind

The Knight's, but of another kind, 480

And he another way came by 't,

Some call it Gifts, and some New-light ;

A lib'ral 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 crookt

With — To and from my love — it lookt.

He ne'er consider'd it, as loth

To look a gift-horse in the mouth, 490

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 :

For saints themselves will sometimes be, 495

Of gifts that cost them nothing, free.

By means of this, with hem and cough,

485 VAR. ' His wits were sent him.'

46? 488 Until the year 1696, when all money, not milled,
was called in, a ninepenny piece of silver was as common
as sixpences or shillings, and these ninepences were
usually bent as sixpences commonly are now, which bend-
ing was called, To my love and from my love ; and such
ninepences the ordinary fellows gave or sent to their
sweethearts as tokens of love.

PART I. CANTO I. 21

Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff,

He could deep mysteries unriddle,

As easily as thread a needle :

For as of vagabonds we say,

That they are ne'er beside their way,

Whate'er men speak by this new light,

Still they are sure to be i' th' right.

Tis a dark lantern of the Spirit,

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 bagpipe drone,

And speaks through hollow empty soul,

As through a trunk or whisp'ring hole,

Such language as no mortal ear

But spirit'al eaves-droppers can hear :

So Phoebus, or some friendly Muse,

Into small poets song infuse,

Which they at second-hand rehearse,

Through reed or bagpipe, 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, though unaware.

For mystic learning, wondrous able

511 Alluding to Ralpho's religion, who was probably an
Anabaptist or Dipper.

IIUDIBRAS.

In magic, talisman, and cabal, 5.10

Whose primitive tradition reaches

As far as Adam's first green breeches ;

Deep-sighted in intelligences,

Ideas, atoms, influences ;

And much of Terra Incognita, 535

Th' intelligible world, could say ;

A deep occult philosopher,

As learn'd as the Wild Irish are,

Or Sir Agrippa, for profound

And solid lying much renown'd : 510

He Anthroposophus, and Floud,

And Jacob Behmen, understood ;

Knew many an amulet and charm,

That would do neither good nor harm ;

In Rosycrucian lore as learned 545

As he that Ver£ 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

What member 'tis of whom they talk

When they cry Rope, and Walk, Knave, walk.

He'd extract numbers out of matter,

And keep them in a glass, like water,

Of sov'reign pow'r to make men wise ; 555

For, dropt in blear thick-sighted eyes,

They'd make them see in darkest night,

Like owls, though purblind in the light.

By help of these (as he profest)

He had First Matter seen undrest :

He took her naked, all alone,

5415 Alluding to the Philosophers' stone.

PART I. CANTO I.

Before one rag- of form was on.

The Chaos, too, he had descry 'd,

And seen quite through, or else he ly'd :

Not that of Pasteboard, which men shew 565

For groats at fair of Barthol'mew ;

But its great grandsire, first o' th' name,

Whence that and Reformation came,

Both cousin-germans, and right able

T' inveigle and draw in the rabble : :.:<>

But reformation was, some say,

O' th' younger house to Puppet-play.

He could foretell whats'ever was

By consequence to come to pass ;

As death of great men, alterations, 575

573 The rebellious clergy would in their prayers pretend
to foretell things, to encourage people in their rebellion. I
meet with the following instance in the prayers of Mr.
George Swathe, minister of Denham, in Suffolk : " O mv
good Lord God, I praise thee for discovering the last week,
in the day-time, a vision, that there were two great armies
about York, one of the malignant party about the King-, the
other party Parliament and professors : and the better side
should have help from Heaven against the worst ; about, or
at which instant of time, we heard the soldiers at York had
raised up a sconce against Hull, intending to plant fifteen
pieces against Hull; against which fort Sir John Hotham,
Keeper of Hull, by a garrison, discharged four great ord-
nance, and broke down their sconce, and killed divers
Cavaliers in it. — Lord, I praise thee for discovering this
Victory, at the instant of time that it was done, to my wife,
which did then presently confirm her drooping heart,
which the last week had been dejected three or four days,
and no arguments could comfort her against the dangerous
times approaching ; but when she had prayed to be esta-
blished in faith in thee, then presently thou didst, by this
vision, strongly possess her soul that thine and our enemies
should be overcome."

24 IIUDIERAS.

Diseases, battles, inundations :

All this without th' eclipse o' th' sun,

Or dreadful comet, he hath done

By inward light, a way as good,

And easy to be understood ; sso

But with more lucky hit than those

That use to make the stars depose,

Like Knights o' th' Post, and falsely charge

Upon themselves what others forge ;

As if they were consenting to 585

All mischiefs in the world men do,

Or, like the devil, did tempt and sway 'em

To rogueries, and then betray 'em.

They'll search a planet's house, to know

Who broke and robb'd a house below ; 590

Examine Venus and the Moon,

Who stole a thimble or a spoon ;

And though they nothing will confess,

Yet by their very looks can guess,

And tell what guilty aspect bodes, 595

Who stole, and who receiv'd the goods :

They'll question Mars, and, by his look,

Detect who 'twas that nimm'd a cloak ;

Make Mercury confess, and 'peach

Those thieves which he himself did teach. fino

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 guest 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,

PART I. CANTO I. 25

To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs, 610

And tell what crisis does divine

The rot in sheep, or mange in swine ;

In men, what gives or cures the itch,

What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich ;

What gains or loses, hangs or saves ; 615

What makes men great, what fools or knaves,

But not what wise, for only' of those

The stars (they say) cannot dispose.

No more than «an the astrologians ;

There they say right, and like true Trojans : 0:0

This Ralpho knew, and therefore took

The other course, of which we spoke.

Thus was th' accomplish'd Squire endu'd
With gifts and knowledge per'lous shrewd :
Never did trusty squire with knight, fc5

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 the gate. too

Few miles on horseback had they jogged
But Fortune unto them turn'd dogged ;
For they a sad adventure met,
Of which anon we mean to treat.
But ere we venture to unfold 635

Achievements so resolv'd and bold,
We should, as learned poets use,
Invoke th' assistance of some Muse,
However critics count it sillier
Than jugglers talking to familiar ; 640

We think 'tis no great matter which,
They're all alike, yet we shall pitch
On one that fits our purpose most,

26 HUDIBRAS.

Whom therefore thus do we accost.

Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, 6 is

Didst inspire Withers, Pryn, and Vickars,
And force them, though it was in spite
Of Nature, and their stars, to write ;
Who (as we find in sullen writs,
And cross-grain'd works of modern wits) 650

With vanity, opinion, want,
The wonder of the ignorant,
The praises of the author, penn'd
B' himself or wit-insuring friend,
The itch of picture in the front, 655

With bays and wicked rhyme upon't,
(All that is left o' th' Forked hill
To make men scribble without skill)
Canst make a poet, spite of Fate,
And teach all people to translate, 6^0

Though out of languages in which
They understand no part of speech ;
Assist me but this once, I 'mplore,
And I shall trouble thee no more.

In western clime there is a town, t>;s

To those that dwell therein well known,
Therefore there needs no more be said here,
We unto them refer our reader ;
For brevity is very good,
When w' are, or are not understood. 670

665 Brentford, which is eight miles west from London,
is here probably meant, as may be gathered from Part II.
('ant. iii. v. 995, &c. where he tells the Knight what befell
him there :

And though you overcame the Bear,
The dogs beat you at Brentford fair,
Where sturdy butchers broke your noddle.

PART I. CANTO I.

To this town people did repair

On days of market or of fair,

And to crack'd fiddle and hoarse tabor,

In merriment did drudge and labour :

But now a sport more formidable £73

Had rak'd together village rabble ;

'Twas an old way of recreating,

Which learned butchers call Bear-baiting ;

A bold advent' rous exercise,

With ancient heroes in high prize ; 6ao

For authors do affirm it came

From Isthmian or Nemaean game ;

Others derive it from the Bear

That's fix'd in northern hemisphere,

And round about the pole does make 6.;5

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 6^0

According to the law of arms,

687 This game is ushered into the Poem with more
solemnity than those celebrated ones in Homer and Virgil.
As the Poem is only adorned with this game, and the
Riding Skimmington, so it was incumbent on the Poet to
be very particular and full in the description : and may
we not venture to affirm, they are exactly suitable to the
nature of these adventures ; and, consequently, to a Briton,
preferable to those in Homer or Virgil.

eag 690 Alluding to the bull-running at Tutbury in Staf-
fordshire j where solemn proclamation was made by the
Steward, before the bull was turned loose; " That all
manner of persons give way to the bull, none being to
come near him by forty foot, any way to hinder the
minstrels, but to attend his or their own safety, every one
at his peril." Dr. Plot's ' Staffordshire.'

HUDIBRAS.

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

Tf expose themselves to vain jeopardy,

If they come wounded off, and lame,

No honour's got by such a maim,

Although the bear gain much, being bound

In honour to make good his ground 700

When he's engag'd, and takes no notice,

If any press upon him, who 'tis,

But 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 harm's way),

Thither the Knight his course did steer,

To keep the peace 'twixt Dog and Bear, 710

As he believ'd he was bound to do

In conscience and commission too ;

And therefore thus bespoke the Squire :

We that are wisely mounted higher
Than constables in curule wit, 715

714 This speech is set down as it was delivered by the
Knight, in his own words ; but since it is below the gravity
of heroical poetry to admit of humour, but all men are
obliged to speak wisely alike, and too much of so extra-
vagant a folly would become tedious and impertinent, the
rest of his harangues have only his sense expressed in other
words, unless in some few places where his own words
could not be so well avoided.

715 Had that remarkable motion in the House of Com-
mons taken place, the constables might have vied with Sir
Hudibras for an equality at least ; " That it was necessary

PART I. CANTO I. 29

When on tribunal bench we sit,

Like speculators should foresee,

From Pharos of authority,

Portended mischiefs further than

Low Proletarian tithing-men ; 720

And therefore being inform'd by bruit

That Dog and Bear are to dispute,

For so of late men fighting name,

Because they often prove the same

(For where the first does hap to be, 725

The last does coincidere} ;

Quantum in nobis, have thought good

To save th' 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 Cov'nant and the Cause's sake ?

But in that quarrel Dogs and Bears,

for the House of Commons to have a High Constable of
their own, that will make no scruple of laying his Majesty
by the heels :" but they proceeded not so far as to name
any body, because Harry Martyn (out of tenderness of
conscience in this particular) immediately quashed the
motion, by saying, the power was too great for any man.

i6 This was the Solemn League and Covenant, which
was first framed and taken by the Scottish Parliament, and
by them sent to the Parliament of England, in order to
unite the two nations more closely in religion. It was
received and taken by both Houses, and by the City of
London ; and ordered to be read in all the churches
throughout the kingdom ; and every person was bound to

30 HUDIBllAS.

As well as we, must venture theirs ?

This feud, by Jesuits invented,

By evil counsel is fomented ; 710

There is a Machiavilian plot

(Though evYT nare olfact it not)

And 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 ?

And shall we turn our fangs and claws

Upon our own selves, without cause ? 750

That some occult design doth lie

In bloody cynarctomachy,

Is plain enough to him that knows

How Saints lead Brothers by the nose.

I wish myself a pseudo-prophet, 755

give his consent, by holding up his hand, at the reading
of it.

736 < And the Cause's sake.' Sir William Dugdale informs
us that Mr. Bond, preaching at the Savoy, told his auditors
from the pulpit, " That they ought to contribute and pray,
and do all they were able to bring in their brethren of
Scotland for settling of God's cause : I say (quoth he) this
is God's cause ; and if our God hath any cause, this is it ;
and if this be not God's cause, then God is no God for
me ; but the Devil is got up into Heaven." Mr. Calamy,
in his speech at Guildhall, 1643, says, " I may truly say,
as the Martyr did, that if I had as many lives as hairs on
my head, I would be willing to sacrifice all these lives in
this cause ;"

Which pluck'd down the King, the Church, and the Laws,
To set up an idol, then nick-nam'd The Cause,
Like Bell and the Dragon to gorge their own maws.

as it is expressed in " The Rump Carbonaded.''

PART I. CANTO I. 31

But sure some mischief will come of it,

Unless by providential wit,

Or force, we averruncate it.

For what design, what interest,

Can beast have to encounter beast ? 760

They fight for no espoused Cause,

Frail Privilege, Fundamental Laws,

Nor for a thorough Reformation,

Nor Covenant nor Protestation,

Nor Liberty of consciences, 765

Nor Lords' and Commons' Ordinances ;

Nor for the Church, nor for Church-lands,

To get them into their own hands ;

Nor evil Counsellors to bring

To justice, that seduce the King ; 770

Nor for the worship of us men,

Thoug'h \ve have done as much for them.

Th' Egyptians worshipp'd dogs, and for

Their faith made internecine war ;

Others ador'd a rat, and some 775

For that church suffer'd martyrdom ;

The Indians fought for the truth

Of th' elephant and monkey's tooth,

And many, to defend that faith,

765 VAR. ' Nor for free Liberty of Conscience.' The word
' free' was left out in 1674 ; and Mr. \Varburton thinks for
the worse ; ' free liberty' being a most beautiful and satiri-
cal periphrasis for licentiousness, which is the idea the
Author here intended to give us.

766 The King being driven from the Parliament, no
legal acts of Parliament could be made ; therefore when
the Lords and Commons had agreed upon any bill, they
published it, and required obedience to it, under the title
of An Ordinance of Lords and Commons, and sometimes,
An Ordinance of Parliament.

04 HUDIB11AS.

Fought it out mordicus to death ; 780

But no beast ever was so slight,

For man, as for his God, to fight :

They have more wit, alas ! and know

Themselves and us better than so.

But we, who only do infuse 785

The rage in them like boute-feus,

'Tis our example that instils

In them th' infection of our ills.

For, as some late philosophers

Have well observ'd, beasts that converse 790

With man take after him, as hogs

Get pigs all 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, 71* ">

When they destroy 'd the Christian brethren,

They sew'd them in the skins of bears,

And then set dogs about their ears ;

From whence, no doubt, th' invention came

Of this lewd antichristian game. soo

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 sos
Is carnal, and of man's creating,
For certainly there's no such word
In all the Scripture on record ;
Therefore unlawful, and a sin :
And so is (secondly) the thing ; HIO

A vile assembly 'tis, that can
No more be proved by Scripture than
Provincial, Classic, National,

PART I. CANTO I. 33

Mere human creature cobwebs all.

Thirdly, it is idolatrous ; eis

For when men run a-whoring thus

With their inventions, whatsoe'er

The thing- be, whether Dog- or Bear,

It is idolatrous and Pagan,

No less than worshipping- of Dagon. ac.'

Quoth Hudibras, I smell a rat ;
Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate :
For though the thesis which thou lay'st
Be true ad amussim, as thou say'st ;
(For that Bear-baiting should appear 825

Jure divino lawfuller
Than Synods are, thou dost deny

Totidem rerbis, so do I)
Yet there's a fallacy in this ;

For if by sly homceosis, 8.io>

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 s^

But Bear-baiting may be made out,

In gospel-times, as lawful as is

Provincial, or Parochial Classis ;

And that both are so near of kin,

And like in all, as well as sin, RIO

That put 'em in a bag, and shake 'em.

Yourself o' th' sudden would mistake 'em,

And not know which is which, unless

^ ou measure by their wickedness ;

For 'tis not hard t' imagine whether ;;i .

O' th' two is worst, tho' I name neither.

Quoth Hudibras, thou offer'st much,
VOL. i. D

34 IIUDIBRAS.

But art not able to keep touch ;

Mir a de lente, as 'tis i' th' adage,

Id est, to make a leek a cabbage : sso

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* a:\5

Of Church-affairs with Bear-baiting ?

A just comparison still is

Of things ejusdem generis ;

And then what genus rightly doth

Include and comprehend them both ?

If animal, both of us may

As justly pass for Bears as they ;

For we are animals no less,

Although of diff'rent specieses.

But, Ralpho, this is no fit place,

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 :

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,

851 VAR. ' Thou canst at best but overstrain

A paradox and thy own brain ;'
and ' Thou'lt be at best but such a bull,' &c.

&6° VAK. ' Comprehend them inclusive both.'
sea VAK. 'As likely.'

PART I. CANTO I. 35

And all the Godly expect from us.

Nor shall they be deceiv'd, unless

We're slurr'd and outed by success ;

Success, the mark no mortal wit,

Or surest hand, can always hit : sso

For whatsoe'er we perpetrate,

We do but row, w' are steer'd by Fate,

Which in success oft disinherits,

For spurious causes, noblest merits.

Great actions are not always true sons szs

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 ;

Which though they're known to be so ample,

We need not copy from example ;

We're not the only person durst 895

Attempt this province, nor the first.

In northern clime a val'rous knight

Did whilom kill his Bear in fight,

And wound a Fiddler : we have both

Of these the objects of our wroth, y( o

And equal fame and glory from

Th' attempt, or victory to come.

Tis sung there is a valiant Mamaluke,

In foreign land yclep'd —

904 The writers of the 'General Historical Dictionary/
vol. vi. p. 291, imagine, " That the chasm here is to be
filled with the words ' Sir Samuel Luke,' because the line
before it is of ten syllables, and the measure of the verse
generally used in this Poem is of eight."

36 IIUDIBRAS.

To whom we have been oft compar'd 905

For person, parts, address, and beard ;

Both equally reputed stout,

And in the same cause both have fought :

He oft in such attempts as these

Came off with glory and success ; yif>

Nor will we fail in th' execution,

For want of equal resolution.

Honour is like a widow, won

With brisk attempt and putting on ;

With ent'ring manfully, and urging, 915

Not slow approaches, like a virgin.

This said, as yerst the Phrygian knight,
So ours, with rusty steel did smite
His Trojan horse, and just as much
He mended pace upon the touch ; 920

But from his empty stomach groan'd
Just as that hollow beast did sound,
And angry answer'd from behind,
With brandish'd tail and blast of wind.
So have I seen, with armed heel, 925

A wight bestride a Commonweal,
WThile still the more he kick'd and spurr'd,
The less the sullen jade has stirr'd.

TART i. CANTO n. 37

PART I. CANTO II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The catalogue and character
Of th' enemies' best men of war,
Whom in a bold harangue the Knight
Defies and challenges to fight :
H' encounters Talgol, routs the Bear,
And takes the Fiddler prisoner,
Conveys him to enchanted castle,
There shuts him fast in wooden Bastile.

THERE was an ancient sage philosopher

That had read Alexander Ross over,

And swore the world, as he could prove,

Was made of fighting- and of love.

Just so Romances are, for what else 5

Is in them all but love and battles ?

O' th' first of these w* have 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.

Certes our authors are to blame

For to make some well-sounding name

A pattern fit for modern knights

To copy out in frays and fights

(Like those that a whole street do raze 15

To build a palace in the place).

They never care how many others

They kill, without regard of mothers,

Or wives, or children, so they can

Make up some fierce dead-doing man, iio

38 HUDIBRAS.

Oompos'd of many ingredient valours,

Just like the manhood of nine tailors :

So a wild Tartar, when he spies

A man that's handsome, valiant, wise,

If he can kill him, thinks t' inherit 25

His wit, his beauty, and his spirit ;

As if just so much he enjoy'd,

As in another is destroy'd :

For when a giant's slain in fight,

And mow'd o'erthwart, or cleft downright, so

It is a heavy case, no doubt,

A man should have his brains beat out,

Because he's tall and has large bones,

As men kill beavers for their stones.

But as for our part, we shall tell 35

The naked truth of what befell,

And as an equal friend to both

The Knight and Bear, but more to Troth,

With neither faction shall take part,

But give to each his due desert, 40

And never coin a formal lie on't

To make the knight o'ercome the giant.

This b'ing profest, we've hopes enough,

And now go on where we left off.

They rode, but authors having not 45

Determin'd whether pace or trot
(That is to say, whether tollutation,
As they do term 't, or succussation),
We leave it, and go on, as now
Suppose they did, no matter how ; 50

Yet some, from subtle hints, have got
Mysterious light it was a trot ;
But let that pass : they now begun
To spur their living engines on :

PART I. CANTO II. 39

For as whipp'd tops and bandy'd balls, £5

The learned hold, are animals ;

So horses they affirm to be

Mere engines made by Geometry,

And were invented first from engines,

As Indian Britains were from Penguins. 60

So let them be, and, as I was saying,

They their live engines ply'd, not staying

Until they reach'd the fatal champain

Which th' enemy did then encamp on ;

The dire Pharsalian plain, where battle 65

Was to be wag'd 'twixt puissant cattle,

And fierce auxiliary men,

That came to aid their brethren,

Who now began to take the field,

As Knight from ridge of steed beheld. ?o

For as our modern wits behold,

Mounted a pick-back on the old,

Much further off, much further he,

Rais'd on his aged beast, could see ;

Yet not sufficient to descry 75

All postures of the enemy,

Wherefore he bids the Squire ride further,

T' observe their numbers and their order,

That, when their motions he had known,

He might know how to fit his own.

Mean- while 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, 35

74 YAK. ' From off.'

V.\R. ' Courage within, and steel without,
To give and to receive a rout.'

40 HUDIBHAS.

Prepar'd for better or for worse.

His cleath-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, go

And after many a painful pluck,

From rusty durance he bail'd tuck :

Then shook himself, to see that prowess

In scabbard of his arms sat loose ;

And, rais'd upon his deep 'rate foot, 9.}

On stirrup-side he gaz'd about,

Portending- blood, like blazing star,

The beacon of approaching war.

Ralpho rode on with no less speed

Than Hugo in the forest did ; 100

But far more in returning made,

For now the foe he had survey'd,

Rang'd, as to him they did appear,

With van, main-battle, wings and rear.

I' th' head of all this warlike rabble, 105

Crowdero march'd expert and able ;

92 VAK. ' He clear'd at length the rugged tuck*'

99 100 y An< f rfhe Squire advunc'd with greater speed
Than could b' expected from his steed :'

101 102 VAR, I3ut 'with a great deal' more 'return'd,'
For now the foe he had ' discern 'd.'

106 So called from ' croud,' a fiddle : This was one Jack-
son, a milliner, who lived in the New Exchange in the
Strand. He had formerly been in the service of the Round-
heads, and had lost a leg in it ; this brought him to decay,
so that he was obliged to scrape upon a fiddle, from one
ale-house to another, for his bread. Mr. Butler very judi-
ciously places him at the head of his catalogue : for
country diversions are generally attended with a fiddler
or bagpiper.

PART I. CANTO II. 41

Instead of trumpet and of drum,

That makes the warrior's stomach come,

Whose noise whets valour sharp, like beer

By thunder turn'd to vinegar ; no

(For if a trumpet sound or drum beat

Who has not a month's mind to combat ?)

A squeaking- engine he apply 'd

Unto his neck, on north-east side,

Just where the hangman does dispose no

To special friends the knot of noose :

For 'tis great grace when statesmen straight v

Dispatch a friend, let others wait.

His warped ear hung o'er the strings,

Which was but souse to chitterlings : ico

For guts, some write, ere they are sodden,

Are fit for music or for pudden ;

From whence men borrow ev'ry kind

Of minstrelsy by string or wind.

His grisly beard was long and thick, ic5

With which he strung his fiddlestick,

For he to horse-tail scorn'd to owe

For what on his own chin did grow :

Chiron, the four-legg'd bard, had both

A beard and tail of his own growth, iso

And yet by authors 'tis averr'd

He made use only of his beard.

In Staffordshire, where virtuous worth

Does raise the minstrelsy, not birth.

Where bulls do choose the boldest king 135

And ruler o'er the men of string

(As once in Persia, 'tis said,

Kings were proclaim'd by a horse that neigh'd),

He, bravely vent'ring at a crown,

By chance of war was beaten down, 140

42

IIUDIBRAS.

And wounded sore ; his leg then broke

Had got a deputy of oak :

For when a shin in fight is cropt,

The knee with one of timber's propt,

Esteem'd more honourable than the other, 145

And takes place, though the younger brother.

Next march'd brave Orsin, famous for
Wise conduct and success in war ;
A skilful leader, stout, severe,
Now Marshal to the champion Bear. 150

With truncheon tipp'd with iron head,
The warrior to the lists he led ;
With solemn march and stately pace,
But far more grave and solemn face ;
Grave as the emperor of Pegu, 155

Or Spanish potentate, Don Diego.
This leader was of knowledge great,
Either for charge or for retreat ;
He knew when to fall on pell-mell,
To fall back and retreat as well : 160

So lawyers, lest the Bear defendant
And plaintiff Dog should make an end on't,
Do stave and tail with writs of Error,
Reverse of Judgment, and Demurrer,
To let them breathe awhile, and then 165

Cry Whoop and set them on agen.
As Romulus a wolf did rear,
So he was dry-nurs'd by a bear,
That fed him with the purchas'd prey

147 VAR. 'Next follow'd.' Joshua Gosling, who kept
bears at Paris-garden, in Southwark. However, says Sir
Roger, he stood hard and fast for the Rump Parliament.

159 160 VAR< ' Knew when t' engage his hear pell-mell,
And when to bring him off as well.'

PART I. CANTO II. 43

Of many a fierce and bloody fray ; 170

Bred up, where discipline most rare is,

In military garden Paris :

For soldiers heretofore did grow

In gardens just as weeds do now,

Until some splay-foot politicians ITS

T Apollo offer'd up petitions

For licensing a new invention

Th' had found out of an antique engine,

To root out all the weeds that grow

In public gardens, at a blow, iso

And leave th' herbs standing. Quoth Sir Sun,

My friends, that is not to be done.

Not done ! quoth Statesman ; Yes, an't please ye,

When 'tis once known you'll say 'tis easy.

Why then let's know it, quoth Apollo : 185

We'll beat a drum, and they'll all follow.

A drum ! (quoth Phoebus) Troth, that's true,

A pretty invention, quaint and new :

But though of voice and instrument

W"e are th' undoubted president, 190

We such loud music do not profess,

The Devil's master of that office,

Where it must pass ; if 't be a drum,

He'll sign it with Cler. Parl. Dom. Com. ;

To him apply yourselves, and he 195

Will soon dispatch you for his fee.

They did so, but it prov'd so ill

Th' had better let 'em grow there still.

But to resume what we discoursing

194 The House of Commons, even before the Rump had
murdered the King, and expelled the House of Lords,
usurped many branches of the Royal prerogative, and par-
ticularly this for granting licenses for new inventions.

44 HUDIBRAS.

Were on before, that is, stout Orsin : coo

That which so oft by sundry writers

Has been apply'd t' almost all fighters,

More justly may b' ascrib'd to this

Than any other warrior, (viz.)

None ever acted both parts bolder, 205

Both of a chieftain and a soldier.

He was of great descent, and high

For splendour and antiquity,

And from celestial origine

Deriv'd himself in a right line : 210

Not as the ancient heroes did,

Who, that their base births might be hid

(Knowing they were of doubtful gender,

And that they came in at a windore),

Made Jupiter himself and others 215

O' th' gods gallants to their own mothers,

To get on them a race of champions,

(Of which old Homer first made lampoons).

Arctophylax, in northern sphere,

Was his undoubted ancestor ; 220

From him his great forefathers came,

And in all ages bore his name.

Learned he was in med'c'nal lore,

For by his side a pouch he wore

Replete with strange hermetic powder, 225

That wounds nine miles point-blank would solder ;

By skilful chemist with great cost

Extracted from a rotten post ;

But of a heav'nlier influence

Than that which mountebanks dispense, 2.30

Though by Promethean fire made ;

211 This is one instance of the Author's making great
things little, though his talent lay chiefly the other way.

PART I. CANTO II. 45

As they do quack that drive that trade.

For as, when slovens do amiss

At others' doors, by stool or piss,

The learned write a red-hot spit 225

B'ing prudently apply 'd to it

Will convey mischief from the dung

Unto the part that did the wrong,

So this did healing ; and, as sure

As that did mischief, this would cure. 240

Thus virtuous Orsin was endu'd
With learning, conduct, fortitude
Incomparable ; and as the prince
Of poets, Homer, sung long since,
A skilful leech is better far 245

Than half a hundred men of war ;
So he appear'd, and by his skill,
No less than dint of sword, could kill.

The gallant Bruin march'd next him,
With visage formidably grim, 250

And rugged as a Saracen,
Or Turk of Mahomet's own kin ;
Clad in a mantle delle guerre
Of rough impenetrable fur,

And in his nose, like Indian king, 255

He wore, for ornament, a ring;
About his neck a threefold gorget,
As rough as trebled leathern target ;
Armed, as heralds, cant and langued,
Or, as the vulgar say, sharp-fanged : 200

For as the teeth in beasts of prey
Are swords, with which they fight in fray,
So swords, in men of war, are teeth

238 VAR. Unto the ' breech.'

46

Which they do eat their vittle with.

He was by birth, some authors write, c65

A Russian, some a Muscovite,

And 'mong the Cossacks had been bred,

Of whom we in Diurnals read,

That serve to fill up pages here,

As with their bodies ditches there. c:o

Scrimansky was his cousin-german,

With whom he serv'd, and fed on vermin ;

And when these fail'd he'd suck his claws,

And quarter himself upon his paws :

And though his countrymen, the Huns, 275

Did stew their meat between their bums

And th' horses' backs o'er which they straddle,

And ev'ry man ate up his saddle ;

He was not half so nice as they,

But ate it raw when 't came in 's way. sso

H' had trac'd the countries far and near

More than Le Blanc the traveller,

Who \vrites, he spous'd in India,

Of noble house a lady gay,

And got on her a race of worthies °i;5

As stout as any upon earth is.

Full many a fight for him between

Talgol and Orsin oft had been,

Each striving to deserve the crown

Of a sav'd citizen ; the one 290

To guard his Bear, the other fought

To aid his Dog ; both made more stout

By sev'ral spurs of neighbourhood,

Church-fellow-membership, and blood :

But Talgol, mortal foe to cows, ^5

Never got aught of him but blows,

Blows hard and heavy, such as he

P.UIT I. CANTO II. 47

Had lent, repaid with usury.

Yet Talgol was of courage stout,
And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought ; 3a>

Inur'd to labour, sweat and toil,
And, like a champion, shone with oil :
Right many a widow his keen blade,
And many fatherless, had made ;
He many a boar and huge dun-cow *os

Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow :
But Guy with him in fight compar'd,
Had like the boar or dun-cow far'd.
With greater troops of sheep h' had fought
Thau Ajax or bold Don Quixote ; 310

And many a serpent of fell kind,
With wings before and stings behind,
Subdu'd ; as, poets say, long agone
Bold Sir George Saint George did the Dragon.
Nor engine, nor device polemic, 315

Disease, nor doctor epidemic,
Though stor'd with deletery med'cines,
(Which whosoever took is dead since)
E'er sent so vast a colony

To both the under worlds as he ; sco

For he was of that noble trade
That demi-gods and heroes made,
Slaughter, and knocking on the head,
The trade to which they all were bred ;
And is, like others, glorious when 3^5

'Tis great and large, but base, if mean :
The former rides in triumph for it,
The latter in a two-wheel'd chariot,

99 A butcher in Xewgate-market, who afterwards ob-
tained a captain's commission for his rebellious braver)' at
Naseby, as Sir R. L'Estrange observes.

48 HUDIBRAS.

For daring to profane a thing

So sacred with vile bungling. 330

Next these the brave Magnano came,
Magnano great in martial fame ;
Yet when with Orsin he wag'd fight,
'Tis sung he got but little by 't :
Yet he was fierce as forest boar, 335

Whose spoils upon his back he wore,
As thick as Ajax' sevenfold shield,
Which o'er his brazen arms he held :
But brass was feeble to resist
The fury of his armed fist, sto

Nor could the hardest iron hold out
Against his blows, but they would through 't.

In magic he was deeply read,
As he that made the brazen-head ;
Profoundly skill' d in the black art, 3*5

As English Merlin for his heart ;
But far more skilful in the spheres
Than he was at the sieve and shears.
He could transform himself in colour,
As like the Devil as a collier ; 350

As like the hypocrites in show
Are to true saints, or crow to crow.

Of warlike engines he was author,
Devis'd for quick dispatch of slaughter :
The cannon, blunderbuss, and saker,
He was th' inventor of, and maker :
The trumpet and the kettle-drum
Did both from his invention come.

331 Simeon Wait a tinker, as famous an Independent
preacher as Burroughs, who, with equal blasphemy to his
Lord of Hosts, would style Oliver Cromwell the Archangel
giving battle to the Devil.

PART I. CANTO II. 49

He was the first that e'er did teach

To make, and how to stop a breach. 360

A lance he bore with iron pike,

Th' one half would thrust, the other strike ;

And when their forces he had join'd,

He scorn'd to turn his parts behind.

He Trulla lov'd, Trulla more bright s6»

Than burnish'd armour of her knight ;
A bold virago, stout and tall,
As Joan of France, or English Mall :
Through perils both of wind and limb,
Through thick and thin she follow'd him, 370

In ev'ry adventure h' undertook,
And never him or it forsook :
At breach of wall, or hedge surprize,
She shar'd i' th' hazard and the prize ;
At beating quarters up, or forage, 375

Behav'd herself with matchless courage.
And laid about in fight more busily
Than th' Amazonian Dame Penthesile.
And though some critics here cry shame,
And say our authors are to blame, -JBO

That (spite of all philosophers,
Who hold no females stout but bears,
And heretofore did so abhor

15 The daughter of James Spenser, debauched by Mag-
nano the tinker ; so called because the tinker's wife or
mistress was commonly called his ' trull.' See " The
Coxcomb," a comedy.

368 Alluding probably to Mary Carl ton, called ' Kentish
Moll,' but more commonly ' The German Princess ;' a
person notorious at the time this First Part of Hudibras
was published. She was transported to Jamaica, 1671.
but returning from transportation too soon, she was hanged
at Tyburn, Jan. 22, 1672-3.

>OL. I. K

50

HUDIBRAS.

That women should pretend to war,

They would not suffer the stout'st dame 385

To swear by Hercules's name)

Make feeble ladies, in their works,

To fight like termagants and Turks ;

To lay their native arms aside,

Their modesty, and ride astride ; 390

To run a- tilt at men, and wield

Their naked tools in open field ;

As stout Armida, bold Thalestris,

And she that would have been the mistress

Of Gundibert, but he had grace, 'H?5

And rather took a country lass ;

They say 'tis false without all sense,

But of pernicious consequence

To government, which they suppose

Can never be upheld in prose ; 400

Strip Nature naked to the skin,

You'll find about her no such thing :

It may be so, yet what we tell

Of Trulla that's improbable,

Shall be depos'd by those have seen 't, 405

Or, what's as good, produc'd in print ;

And if they will not take our word,

We'll prove it true upon record.

The upright Cerdon next advanc't,
Of all his race the valiant'st ; 410

409 ' Cerdon.' A one-eyed cobbler, like his brother Colonel
Hewson. The poet observes that his chief talent lay in
preaching. Is it not then indecent, and beyond the rules
of decorum, to introduce him into such rough company 1
No : it is probable he had but newly set up the trade
of a teacher, and we may conclude that the poet did not
think that he had so much sanctity as to debar him the
pleasure of his beloved diversion of bear-baiting.

PART i. CANTO n. 51

Cerdon the Great, renown'd in song,

Like Herc'les, for repair of wrong :

He rais'd the low, and fortify 'd

The weak against the strongest side :

111 has he read that never hit 415

On him in Muses' deathless writ.

He had a weapon keen and fierce,

That through a bull-hide shield would pierce,

And cut it in a thousand pieces,

Though tougher than the Knight of Greece his, *-:u

With whom his black-thumb'd ancestor

Was comrade in the ten-years' war :

For when the restless Greeks sat down

So many years before Troy town,

And were renown'd, as Homer writes, 425

For well-sol'd boots no less than fights,

They ow'd that glory only to

His ancestor, that made them so.

Fast friend he was to reformation,

Until 'twas worn quite out of fashion ; 4<Jo

Next rectifier of wry law,

And would make three to cure one flaw.

Learned he was, and could take note,

Transcribe, collect, translate, and quote :

But preaching was his chiefest talent, 435

435 Mechanics of all sorts were then preachers, and some
of them much followed and admired hy the mob. " I am
to tell thee, Christian Reader," says Dr. Featley, Preface
to his " Dipper Dipped," wrote 1645, and published 1647,
p. 1, "this new year of new changes, never heard of in
former ages, namely, of stables turned into temples, and, I
will beg leave to add, temples turned into stables (as
was that of St, Paul's, and many more), stalls into
quires, shop-boards into communion-tables, tubs into pul-
pits, aprons into linen ephods, and mechanics of the low-

•>^ HUDIBRAS.

Or argument, in which being valiant,

He us'd to lay about and stickle,

Like ram or bull, at Conventicle :

For disputants, like rams tnd bulls,

Do fight with arms that spring from sculls. 4-w

Last Colon came, bold man of war,
Destin'd to blows by fatal star,
Right expert in command of horse,
But cruel, and without remorse.

eat rank into priests of the high places. — I wonder that
our door-posts and walls sweat not, upon which such
notes as these have been lately affixed ; on such a day such
a brewer's clerk exerciseth, such a tailor expoundeth, such
a waterman teacheth. — If cooks, instead of mincing their
meat, fall upon dividing of the Word ; if tailors leap up
from the shop-board into the pulpit, and patch up sermons
out of stolen shreds ; if not only of the lowest of the people,
as in Jeroboam's time, priests are consecrated to the Most
High God — do we marvel to see such confusion in the
Church as there is?" They are humorously girded in a
tract entitled, ' The Reformado precisely character'd, by a
modern Churchwarden,' p. 11. " Here are felt-makers,"
says he, " who can roundly deal with the blockheads and
neutral dimicasters of the world; cobblers who can give good
rules for upright walking, and handle Scripture to a bristle ;
coachmen who know how to lash the beastly enormities, and
curb the head-strong insolences of this brutish age, stoutly
exhorting us to stand up for the truth, lest the wheel of des-
truction roundly overrun us. We have weavers that can
sweetly inform us of the shuttle swiftness of the times, and
practically tread out the vicissitude of all sublunary things,
till the web of our life be cut off: and here are mechanics
of my profession who can separate the pieces of salvation
from those of damnation, measure out every man's portion,
and cut it out by a thread, substantially pressing the points,
till they have fashionably filled up their work with a well-
bottomed conclusion."

441 ' Colon.' Ned Perry, an hostler.

PART I. CANTO II. 53

That which of Centaur long ago 445

Was said, and has been wrested to

Some other knights, was true of this ;

He and his horse were of a piece.

One spirit did inform them both,

The self-same vigour, fury, wroth ; 4^0

Yet he was much the rougher part,

And always had a harder heart,

Although his horse had been of those

That fed on man's flesh, as fame goes :

Strange food for horse ! and yet, alas ! 455

It may be true, for flesh is grass.

Sturdy he was, and no less able

Than Hercules to clean a stable ;

As great a drover, and as great

A critic too, in hog or neat. 460

He ripp'd the womb up of his mother,

Dame Tellus, 'cause she wanted fother

And provender, wherewith to feed

Himself and his less cruel steed.

It was a question whether he 465

Or 's horse were of a family

More worshipful ; till antiquaries

(After they'd almost por'd out their eyes)

Did very learnedly decide

The bus'ness on the horse's side, 470

And prov'd not only horse, but cows,

Nay pigs, were of the elder house :

For beasts, when man was but a piece

Of earth himself, did th' earth possess.

These worthies were the chief that led 475

The combatants, each in the head

Of his command, with arms and rage

Ready and longing to engage.

• I1UDIBRAS.

The num'rous rabble was drawn out

Of sev'ral counties round about, 400

From villages remote, and shires

Of east and western hemispheres.

From foreign parishes and regions,

Of different manners, speech, religions,

Came men and mastiffs ; some to fight 485

For fame and honour, some for sight.

And now the field of death, the lists,

Were enter'd by antagonists,

And blood was ready to be broach'd,

When Hudibras in haste approach'd, 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, 4ys

Makes you thus lavish of your blood,
While the proud Vies your trophies boast,
And unreveng'd walks Waller's ghost ?
What towns, what garrisons, might you
With hazard of this blood subdue, sco

Which now y' are bent to throw away
In vain untriumphable fray ?
Shall saints in civil bloodshed wallow
Of saints, and let the cause lie fallow ?
The cause, for which we fought and swore 505
So boldly, shall we now give o'er ?

495 ' Oestrum' signifies the gad-bee or horse-fly.

497 Sir W. Waller was defeated at the Devises.

503 504 Mr> Walker observes, " That all the cheating,
covetous, ambitious persons of the land were united to-
gether under the title of the Godly, the Saints, and shared
the fat of the land between them;" and he calls them the
Saints who were canonized no-where but in the Devil's
Calendar.

PART I. CANTO II. 55

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 thing,

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,

When 'twas resolved by either House scs

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

513 514 i^e Presbyterians, in all their wars against the
king, maintained still that they fought for him ; for they
pretended to distinguish his political person from his
natural one : his political person, they said, must be, and
was with the Parliament, though his natural person was at
war with them.

530 " Good Lord !" (says the ' True Informer,' p. 12.)
" what a deal of dirt was thrown in the Bishops' faces ! —
what infamous ballads were sung ! — what a thick cloud of
epidemical hatred hung suddenly over .them ! so far, that a
dog with a black and white face was called a ' Bishop.' "

tfO HUDIBRAS.

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 bawl'd aloud to settle

Church-Discipline, for patching kettle ;

No sow-gelder did blow his horn

To geld a cat, but cry'd Reform ;

The oyster- women lock'd their fish up,

And trudg'd away to cry No Bishop ; 540

The mouse-trap men laid save-alls by,

And 'gainst Ev'l Counsellors did cry ;

Botchers left old clothes in the lurch,

And fell to turn and patch the Church ;

Some cry'd the Covenant, instead 5*5

Of pudding-pies and gingerbread ;

And some for brooms, old boots and shoes,

Bawl'd out to purge the Common-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

iTo which these Carr'ings on did tend ?

Hath Public faith, like a young heir,

For this tak'n up all sorts of ware,

553 554 Those flights, which seem most extravagant in
our Poet, were really excelled by matter of fact. The
Scots (in their 'Large Declaration,' 1637, p. 41.) begin
their petition against the Common Prayer-Book thus: —
" We men, women, and children, and servants, having
considered, &c." ' Foulis's Hist, of Wicked Plots.'

PART I. CANTO II. 57

And run int' ev'ry tradesman's book,

Till both turn'd bankrupts and are broke ? £60

Did Saints for this bring in their plate,

And crowd as if they came too late ?

For, when they thought the cause had need on't,

Happy was he that could be rid on't.

Did they coin piss-pots, bowls, and flaggons, 565

Int' officers of horse and dragoons ?

And into pikes and musqueteers

Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers ?

A thimble, bodkin, and a spoon,

Did start up living men as soon 570

As in the furnace they were thrown,

Just like the dragon's teeth being sown.

Then was the Cause of gold and plate,

The Brethrens' off'rings, consecrate,

Like th' Hebrew calf, and down before it 575

The Saints fell prostrate, to adore it :

So say the Wicked — and will you

Make that sarcasmus scandal true

By running after Dogs and Bears,

Beasts more unclean than calves or steers ? sso

Have pow'rful Preachers ply'd their tongues,

And laid themselves out and their lungs ;

Us'd all means, both direct and sinister,

I' th' pow'r of Gospel-preaching Minister?

Have they invented tones to win 585

The women and make them draw in

The men, as Indians with a female

Tame elephant inveigle the male ?

Have they told Prov'dence what it must do,

389 It was a common practice to inform God of the
transactions of the times. " Oh ! my Good Lord God/'
says Mr. G. Swathe, ' Prayers,' p. 12, " I hear the King

58 HUDIBRAS.

Whom to avoid, and whom to trust to ? 590

Discover'd th' Enemy's design,

And which way best to countermine ?

Prescrib'd what ways it hath to work,

Or it will ne'er advance the Kirk ?

Told it the news o' th' last express, sy5

And after good or bad success

Made prayers, not so like petitions

As overtures and propositions

hath set up his standard at York against the Parliament
and city of London. — Look thou upon them, take their
cause into thine own hand ; appear thou in the cause of thy
Saints, the cause in hand. — It is thy cause, Lord. We
know that the King is misled, deluded, and deceived hy
his Popish, Arminian, and temporising, rebellious, malig-
nant faction and party," &c. " They would," says Dr.
Echard, "in their prayers and sermons, tell God, that they
would be willing to be at any charge and trouble for him,
and to do as it were any kindness for the Lord ; the Lord
might now trust them, and rely upon them, they should
not fail him ; they should not be unmindful of his business ;
his works should not stand still, nor his designs be neglected.
They must needs say that they had formerly received some
favours from God, and have been as it were beholden to
the Almighty; but they did not much question but they
should find some opportunity of making some amends for
the many good things, and (as I may so say) civilities
which they had received from him. Indeed, as for those
that are weak in the Faith, and are yet but babes in Christ?
it is fit that they should keep at some distance from God,
should kneel before him, and stand (as I may say) cap in
hand to the Almighty : but as for those that are strong in
all Gifts, and grown up in all Grace, and are come to a
fulness and ripeness in the Lord Jesus, it is comely enough
to take a great chair, and sit at the end of the table, and,
with their cock'd hats on their heads, to say, God, we
thought it not amiss to call upon thee this evening, and let
thee know how affairs stand. We have been very watch-

PART I. CANTO II. 59

(Such as the Army did present

To their Creator, th' Parl'ament), 600

In which they freely will confess

They will not, cannot acquiesce,

Unless the Work be carry'd on

In the same way they have begun,

By setting Church and Commonweal 601

All on a flame, bright as their zeal,

On which the Saints were all agog,

And all this for a Bear and Dog ?

ful since we were last with thee, and they are in a very
hopeful condition. We hope that thou wilt not forget us ;
for we are very thoughtful of thy concerns. We do some-
what long to hear from thee ; and if thou pleasest to give
us such a thing (' Victory'), we shall be (as I may so say)
srood to thee in something else when it lies in our way."
See a remarkable Scotch Prayer much to the same purpose,
' Scourge,' by Mr. Lewis, No. XVI. p. 130, edit. 1717.

602 Alluding probably to their profane expostulations
with God from the pulpit. Mr. Vines, in St. Clement's
Church, near Temple-bar, used the following words : " O
Lord, thou hast never given us a victory this long while,
for all our frequent fasting. What dost thou mean, O
Lord, to fling into a ditch, and there to leave us?" And
one Robinson, in his prayer at Southampton, Aug. 25,
1642, expressed himself in the following manner : " O God,
O God, many are the hands that are lift up against us, but
there is one God, it is thou thyself, O Father, who does us
more mischief than they all." They seemed to encourage
this profanity in their public sermons. " Gather upon
God," says Mr. R. Harris, ' Fast Sermon before the Com-
mons,' " and hold him to it, as Jacob did : press him with
his precepts, with his promises, with his hand, with his
seal, with his oath, till we do Cvcwxtiv, as some Greek
Fathers boldly speak ; that is, if I may speak it reverently
enough, put the .Lord out of countenance ; put him, as you
would say, to the blush, unless we be masters of our

60 HUDIBRAS.

The PaiTament drew up petitions

To 'tself, and sent them, like commissions, 610

To well-affected persons down,

In every city and great town,

With pow'r to levy horse and men,

Only to bring- them back agen ?

For this did many, many a mile, 615

Ride manfully in rank and file,

With papers in their hats, that show'd

As if they to the pill'ry rode ?

Have all these courses, these efforts,

Been try'd by people of all sorts, 620

Velis et remis, omnibus nervis,

And all t' advance the Cause's service ;

And shall all now be thrown away

In petulent intestine fray ?

Shall we, that in the Cov'nant swore 625

Each man of us to run before

Another, still in Reformation

Give Dogs and Bears a dispensation ?

How will Dissenting Brethren relish it ?

What will Malignants say ? Videlicet, 6so

That each man swore to do his best

To damn and perjure all the rest ;

And bid the devil take the hin'most,

Which at this race is like to win most.

They'll say our bus'ness to Reform 6ss

The Church and State, is but a worm ;

For to subscribe, unsight unseen,

To an unknown Church discipline,

What is it else but beforehand

T' engage and after understand ? 640

For when we swore to carry on

The present Reformation,

PART I. CANTO II. 61

According to the purest mode

Of churches best reform'd abroad,

What did we else but make a vow 6*5

To do we know not what, nor how ?

For no three of us will agree

Where, or what churches these should be :

And is indeed the self-same case

With those that swore et cceteras ; 6»o

Or the French League, in which men vow'd

To fight to the last drop of blood.

These slanders will be thrown upon

The cause and work we carry on,

If we permit men to run headlong 6s»

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 : 66 j

In name of King and Parl'ament,

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 fi65

Where your respective dwellings are.

851 The Holy League in France, designed and made for
the extirpation of the Protestant religion, was the original
out of which the Solemn League and Covenant here was
(with difference only of circumstances) most faithfully
transcribed. Nor did the success of both differ more than
the intent and purpose ; for, after the destruction of vast
numbers of people of all sorts, both ended with the murder
of two kings, whom they had both sworn to defend. And
as our Covenanters swore every man to run one before
another in the way of Reformation, so did the French, iu
tli^ Holy League, to fight to the last drop of blood.

62

HUDIBRAS.

But to that purpose first surrender

The Fiddler, as the prime offender,

Th' incendiary vile, that is chief

Author and engineer of mischief ; 670

That makes division between friends,

For profane and malignant ends.

He, and that engine of vile noise

On which illegally he plays,

Shall (dictum factum) both be brought 675

To condign pun'shment, as they ought :

This must be done, and I would fain see

Mortal so sturdy as to gainsay ;

For then I'll take another course,

And soon reduce you all by force. 6so

This said, he clapt his hand on sword,

To shew he meant to keep his word.

But Talgol, who had long supprest
Inflamed \vrath in glowing breast,

673—676 T^ threatening punishment to the Fiddle was
much like tLe*threats of the pragmatical troopers to punish
Ralph Dobbin's waggon, ' Plain Dealer,' vol. i. "I was
driving," says he, " into a town upon the 29th of May,
where my waggon was to dine. There came up in a great
rage seven or eight of the troopers that were quartered there,
and asked, ' What I bushed out my horses for V I told them,
' To drive flies away.' But they said, I was a Jacobite
rascal, that my horses were guilty of high treason, and my
waggon ought to be hanged. I answered, ' it was already
drawn, and within a yard or two of being quartered ; but as
to being hanged, it was a compliment we had no occasion
for, and therefore desired them to take it back again, and
keep it in their own hands, till they had an opportunity to
•make use of it.' I had no sooner spoke these words, but
they fell upon me like thunder, strip t my cattle in a
twinkling, and beat me black and blue with my own oak
branches."

ess 684 it may be asked, Why Talgol was the first in

PART I. CAXTO II. 63

Which now began to rage and burn as nas

Implacably as flame in furnace,

Thus answer'd him : Thou vermin wretched,

As e'er in measled pork was hatched ;

Thou tail of worship, that dost grow

On rump of justice as of cow ; 690

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 say, adventure thus 695

T' oppose thy lumber against us ?

Could thine impertinence find out

No work t' employ itself about,

Where thou, secure from wooden blow,

Thy busy vanity might'st show ? 700

Was no dispute a-foot between

The caterwauling Bretheren ?

No subtle question rais'd among

Those out-o'- their wits and those i* th' wrong f.

No prize between those combatants 705

(3' th' times, the land and water saints,

Where thou might'st stickle, without hazard

Of outrage to thy hide and mazzard,

And not for want of bus'ness come

To us to be thus troublesome, 710

To interrupt our better sort

Of disputants, and spoil our sport ?

answering the Knight, when it seems more incumbent upon
the Bearward to make a defence ? Probably Talgol might
then be a Cavalier; for the character the Poet has given
him doth not infer the contrary, and his answer carries
strong indications to justify the conjecture.

694 VAR. ' Is lam'd, and tir'd in halting hither.'

64

HUD1BRAS.

Was there no felony, no bawd,
Cut- purse, or burglary abroad ?
No stolen pig, nor plunder'd goose, 715

To tie thee up from breaking loose ?
No ale unlicens'd, broken hedge,
For which thou 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, 7«

All parties and the commonweal ?
Much better had it been for thee
He 'ad kept thee where th' art us'd to be,
Or sent th' on bus'ness any whither,
So he had never brought thee hither : ~*o

But if th' hast brain enough in scull
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 may'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 whence, at length, these words broke out :
Was I for this entitled Sir, 7*1

732 VAR. 'To keep within its lodging.'
741 Hudibras shewed less patience upon this than Don
Quixote did upon a like occasion, where he calmly dis-

PART I. CANTO II. 65

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 as thou dost blown-up veal ;

Nor all thy tricks and sleights to cheat,

And sell thy carrion for good meat ;

Not all thy magic to repair

Decay 'd old age in tough lean ware, 730

Make nat'ral death appear thy work,

And stop the gangrene in stale pork ;

Not all the force that makes thee proud,

Because by bullock ne'er withstood ;

Though arm'd with all thy cleavers, knives, 755

And axes, made to hew down lives ;

Shall save or help thee to evade

The hand of Justice, or this blade,

Which I, her sword-bearer, do carry,

For civil deed and military. 760

Nor shall these words of venom base,

Which thou hast from their native place,

Thy stomach, pump'd to fling on me,

Go unreveng'd, though I am free ;

Thou down the same throat shalt devour 'em, 76*

Like tainted beef, and pay dear for 'em :

Nor shall it e'er be said that wight

tinguishes betwixt an affront and an injury. The Knight
is irritated at the satirical answer of Talgol, and vents his
rage in a manner exactly suited to his character ; and when
his passion was worked up to a height too great to be ex-
pressed in words, he immediately falls into action; but,
alas ! at this first entrance into it, he meets with an un-
lucky disappointment ; an omen that the success would
be as indifferent as the cause in which he was engaged.

751 VAR. « Turn death of nature to thy work.'

VOL. I. F

66 HUDIBRAS.

With gauntlet blue and bases white,

And round blunt truncheon by his side,

So great a man at arms defy'd 770

With words far bitterer than wormwood.

That would in Job or Grizel stir mood.

Dogs with their tongues their wounds do heal,

But men with hands, as thou shalt feel.

This said, with hasty rage he snatch'd 775

His gun-shot that in holsters watch'd,
And, bending cock, he levell'd full
Against th' outside of Talgol's scull,
Vowing that he should ne'er stir further,
Nor henceforth cow or bullock murther : TM

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.
Mean-while fierce Talgol, gath'ring might, 7<tf
Wijh rugged truncheon charg'd the Knight :

78i 783 This, and another passage in this Canto, are the
only places where Deities are introduced in this poem. As
it was not intended for an Epic Poem, consequently none
of the heroes in it needed supernatural assistance ; how then
comes Pallas to be ushered in here, and Mars afterwards ?
Probably to ridicule Homer and Yrirgil, whose heroes scarce
perform any action (even the most feasible) without the
sensible aid of a Deity ; and to manifest that it was not the
want of abilities, but choice, that made our Poet avoid such
subterfuges, he has given us a sample of his judgment in
this way of writing in the passage before us, which, taken
in its naked meaning, is only — that the Knight's pistol was,
for want of use, grown so rusty, that it would not fire ;
or, in other words, that the rust was the cause of his dis-
appointment.

784 VAR. ' Stand stiff, as if 'twere tum'd t' a stock.'

786 VAR. « Smote the Knight.'

PART I. CANTO II. 67

But he, with petronel upheav'd

Instead of shield, the blow receiv'd ;

The gun recoil'd, 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 with mortal stripe.

Then Hudibras, with furious haste,

Drew out his sword ; yet not so fast

But Talgol first, with hardy thwack, ?yo

Twice bruis'd his head, and twice his back.

But when his nut-brown sword was out,

With stomach huge he laid about,

Imprinting many a wound upon

His mortal foe, the truncheon : 8«o

The trusty cudgel did oppose

Itself against dead-doing blows,

To guard his leader from fell bane,

And then reveng'd itself again.

And though the sword (some understood) «os

In force had much the odds of wood,

'Twas nothing so ; both sides were balanc't

So equal, none knew which was valiant'st :

For wood, with honour b'ing engag'd,

Is so implacably enrag'd, n.

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 pursuits of death,

Whilst all the rest amaz'd stood still, $15

Expecting which should take, or kill.

787 788 VAR. ' And he with rusty pistol held...
To take the hlow on like a shield.'

797 VAR. ' But when his rugged sword was out.'

798 VAR. ' Courageously he laid about.'

68 HUDIBRAS.

This Hudibras observ'd ; and fretting

Conquest should be so long- a-getting,

He drew up all his force into

One body, and that into one blow : eso

But Talgol wisely avoided it

By cunning sleight ; for, had it hit,

The upper part of him the blow

Had slit, as sure as that below.

Meanwhile th' incomparable Colon, 825

To aid his friend, began to fall on :
Him Ralph encounter'd, and straight grew
A dismal combat 'twixt them two ;
Th' one arm'd with metal, th' other with wood,
This fit for bruise, and that for blood. 83 o

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 ;
For he, by foul hap, having found
Where thistles grew on barren ground, 840

In haste he drew his weapon out,
And, having cropt them from the root,
He clapt them underneath the tail
Of steed, with pricks as sharp as nail.
The angry beast did straight resent 845

825 VAR. ' But now fierce Colon 'gan draw on,
To aid the distress'd champion ;'

828 VAR. ' A fierce dispute.'

844 VAR. ' With prickles sharper than a nail.'

PART I. CANTO II. 69

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 gall'd him sorely under his tail ; sso

Instead of which, he threw the pack

Of Squire and baggage from his back,

And blund'ring still, with smarting rump,

He gave the Knight's steed such a thump

As made him reel. The Knight did stoop, 855

And sat on further side aslope.

This Talgol viewing, who had now

By sleight escap'd the fatal blow,

He rally 'd, and again fell to 't ;

For catching foe by nearer foot, a6o

He lifted with such might and strength

As would have hurl'd him thrice his length,

And dash'd his brains (if any) out :

But Mars, that still protects the stout,

In pudding-time came to his aid, 865

846 VAR. ' And feel regret on fundament.'

855 VAR. ' That stagger'd him.'

864 665 j wouid here observe the judgment of the Poet :
Mars is introduced to the Knight's advantage, as Pallas
had been before to his disappointment. It was reasonable
that the God of War should come in to his assistance, since
a goddess had interested herself on the side of his enemies
(agreeably to Homer and Virgil). Had the Knight directly
fallen to the ground, he had been probably disabled from
future action, and consequently the battle would too soon
have been determined. Besides, we may observe a beau-
tiful gradation to the honour of the hero : he falls upon the
Bear, the Bear breaks loose, and the spectators run ; so
that the Knight's fall is the primary cause of this rout, and
he might justly, as he afterwards did, ascribe the honour of
the victory to himself.

70 HUDIBRAS.

And under him the Bear convey'd,

The Bear, upon whose soft fur-gown

The Knight with all his weight fell down.

The friendly rug preserv'd the ground,

And head-long Knight, from bruise or wound ; B?O

Like feather-bed betwixt a wall

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 roar'd, and rag'd, and flung about,

To shake off bondage from his snout : sso

His wrath inflam'd, boil'd o'er, and from

His jaws of death he threw the foam ;

Fury in stranger postures threw him,

And more than ever herald drew him.

He tore the earth, which he had sav'd 885

From squelch of Knight, and storm'd and rav'd,

And vex'd the more because the harms

He felt were 'gainst the law of arms :

For men he always took to be

His friends, and dogs the enemy ; 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 he 'ad 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

PART I. CANTO II. 71

From thrall of ring- and cord broke loose. 900

Soon as he felt himself enlarged,

Through thickest of his foes he charg'd,

And made way through th' amazed crew ;

Some he o'erran., and some o'erthrew,

But took none ; for by hasty flight 903

He strove t' escape pursuit of Knight,

From whom he fled with as much haste

And dread as he the rabble chas'd :

In haste he fled, and so did they,

Each and his fear a sev'ral way. 910

Crowdero only kept the field,
Not stirring from the place he held,
Though beaten down, and wounded sore
I' th' Fiddle, and a leg that bore
One side of him ; not that of bone, 9«5

But much its better, th' wooden one.
He spying Hudibras lie strow'd
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,
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

906 VAR. ' avoid the conqu'ring Knijht.'
920 VAR. ' cast in swound.'

923 VAR. « And listing it.'

924 VAR. « to fall on Knight.'

7'2 HUDIBRAS.

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 off 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 encounter'd 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 farther 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 propp'd before.
To him the Squire right nimbly run,
And setting conqu'ring foot upon
His trunk, thus spoke : What desp'rate frenzy 955
Made thee (thou whelp of Sin) to fancy
Thyself and all that coward rabble
T' encounter us in battle able ?

935 936 yAB> < Looking about, beheld the Bard

To charge the Knight entranc'd prepar'd.'
944 VAR. 'The skin encounter'd,' &c.

947 VAR. ' on side and arm.'

948 VAR. ' To shield the Knight entranc'd from harm.'

PART I. CANTO II. 73

How durst th', I say, oppose thy Curship

'Gainst arms, authority, and worship, 9<5o

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 that of wood ?

Could not the whipping-post prevail, 965

With all its rhet'rick, 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 Hudibras does 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

Knock'd 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 op'ning 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 ;

74 HUDIBRAS.

And he lies pris'ner 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 pow'rful eye

Must sentence him to live or die.

His Fiddle is your proper purchase,

Won in the service of the Churches ; ioo«

And by your doom must be allow'd

To be, or be no more, a Crowd :

For though success did not confer

Just title on the conqueror ;

Though dispensations were not strong 1005

Conclusions whether right or wrong ;

Although Outgoings did confirm,

And Owning were but a mere term ;

Yet as the wicked have no right

To th' creature, though usurp'd 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 'em is no more

Than what was ours by right before : 1020

1009 it was a principie maintained by the Rebels of those
days, that dominion is founded on grace ; and therefore if a
man wanted grace (in their opinion), if he was not a saint
or a godly man, he had no right to any lands, goods, or
chattels. The Saints, as the Squire says, had aright to all,
and might take it, wherever they had a power to do it.

PART I. CANTO II- 75

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 star'd 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 bus'ness sooner loss

Than from your hand to have the honour

Of his destruction ; I that am

A Nothingness in deed and name,

Did scorn to hurt his forfeit carcase,

Or ill entreat his Fiddle or case : 1040

Will you, great Sir, that glory blot

In cold blood, which you gain'd in hot ?

Will you employ your conqu'ring sword

To break a fiddle, and your word ?

For though I fought and overcame, 1045

And quarter gave, 'twas in your name :

For great commanders always own

What's prosp'rous by the soldier done.

To save, where you have pow'r to kill,

Argues your pow'r above your will ; 1050

And that your will and pow'r have less

Than both might have of selfishness.

This pow'r, which now alive, with dread

He trembles at, if he were dead

76 HUDIBRAS.

Would no more keep the slave in awe, 1055

Than if you were a Knight of straw ;

For Death would then be his conqueror,

Not you, and free him from that terror.

If danger from his life accrue,

Or honour from his death, to you, iof»o

'Twere policy and honour too

To do as you resolv'd to do :

But, Sir, 'twould wron£ your valour much,

To say it needs, or fears a crutch.

Great conqu'rors greater glory gain 1065

By foes in triumph led, than slain :

The laurels that adorn their brows

Are pull'd from living, not dead boughs,

And living foes : the greatest fame

Of cripple slain can be but lame : i<<7o

One half of him 's already slain,

The other is not worth your pain ;

Th' honour can but on one side light,

As worship did, when y' were dubb'd Knight ;

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 h' appear so bold or crafty

There may be danger in his safety, ioao

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 ;

1084 When the Rebels had taken a prisoner, though they
gave him quarter, and promised to save his life, yet if any
of them afterwards thought it not proper that he should he
saved, it was only saying it was revealed to him that such

PART I. CANTO II.

Though he has quarter, ne'ertheless ioas

Y' have pow'r to hang him when you please.

This has been often done by some

Of our great conqu'rors, you know whom ;

And has by most of us been held

Wise justice, and to some reveal'd : wyo

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 ioys

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 1 100

We must be cautious to declare

Perfection-truths, such as these are.
This said, the high outrageous mettle

Of Knight began to cool and settle.

He lik'd the Squire's advice, and soon 1105

Resolv'd to see the bus'ness done ;

And therefore charg'd him first to bind

Crowdero's hands on rump behind,

And to its former place and use

The wooden member to reduce ; mo

But force it take an oath before,

Ne'er to bear arms against him more.
Ralpho dispatch'd with speedy haste,

a one should die, and they hanged him up, notwithstanding
the promises before made. Dr. South observes of Harrison
the Regicide, a butcher by profession, and preaching Co-
lonel in the Parliament army, " That he was notable for
having killed several after quarter given by others, using
these words in doing it : ' Cursed be he who doth the work
of the Lord negligently.' "

78 HUDIBRAS.

And, having ty'd Crowdero fast,

He gave Sir Knight the end of cord, 1115

To lead the captive of his sword

In triumph, whilst the steeds he caught,

And them to further service brought.

The Squire in state rode on before,

And on his nut-brown whinyard bore 1120

The trophee Fiddle and the case,

Leaning on shoulder like a mace.

The Knight himself did after ride,

Leading Crowdero by his side ;

And tow'd him if he lagg'd behind, 1125

Like boat against the tide and wind.

Thus grave and solemn they march on,

Until quite through the town they 'ad gone,

At further end of which there stands

An ancient castle, that commands mo

Th' adjacent parts ; in all the fabric

You shall not see one stone nor a brick,

But all of wood, by pow'rful spell

Of magic made impregnable :

There's neither iron-bar nor gate, ms

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 is in

Is to the mid die -leg in prison ;

In circle magical confin'd

1122 VAR. ' Plac'd on his shoulder.'

1130 jhis is an enigmatical description of a pair of stocks
and whipping-post ; it is so pompous and sublime, that we
are surprised so noble a structure could be raised from so
ludicrous a subject.

PART I. CANTO II. 7.»

With walls of subtle air and wind,

Which none are able to break thorough 1145

Until they're freed by head of borough.

Thither arriv'd, th' advent'rous Knight

And bold Squire from their steeds alight

At th' outward wall, near which there stands

A B as tile, built t' imprison hands ; iiio

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. ufio

On top of this there is a spire,

On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire

The Fiddle, and its spoils, the case,

In manner of a trophee place ;

That done, they ope the trap-door gate, nfo

And let Crowdero down thereat.

Crowdero making doleful face,

Like hermit poor in pensive place,

To dungeon they the wretch commit,

And the survivor of his feet; ii7»>

But th' other that had broke the peace,

And head of Knighthood, they release,

Though a delinquent false and forged,

Yet b'ing a stranger he's enlarged,

While his comrade, that did no hurt, 1173

Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't :

So justice, while she winks at crimes,

Stumbles on innocence sometimes.

SO HUDIBRAS.

PART I. CANTO III.

THE ARGUMENT.

The scatter'd rout return and rally,
Surround the place : the Knight does sally,
And is made pris'ner : then they seize
Th' enchanted fort by storm, release
Crowdero, and put the Squire in 's place ;
I should have first said Hudibras.

AY me ! what perils do environ

The man that meddles with cold iron !

What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps

Do dog him still with after-claps !

For though Dame Fortune seem to smile, 5

And leer upon him for a while,

She'll after shew him, in the nick

Of all his glories, a dog-trick.

This any man may sing or say

F th' ditty call'd, What if a Day ? n

For Hudibras, who thought he 'ad won

The field, as certain as a gun,

And having routed the whole troop,

With victory was cock-a-hoop,

Thinking he 'ad done enough to purchase ir>

Thanksgiving-day among the Churches,

Wherein his mettle and brave worth

Might be explain'd by holder-forth

And register'd by fame eternal

In deathless pages of Diurnal, 20

Found in few minutes, to his cost,

PART I. CANTO III. 81

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
(All but the Dogs, who in pursuit
Of the Knight's victory stood to 't, so

And most ignobly fought to get
The honour of his blood and sweat),
Seeing the coast was free and clear
O' the conquer'd and the conqueror,
Took heart again, and fac'd about 35

As if they meant to stand it out :
For by this time the routed Bear,
Attack'd by th' enemy i' th' rear,
Finding their number grew too great
For him to make a safe retreat, 4o

Like a bold chieftain fac'd about ;
But wisely doubting to hold out,
Gave way to fortune, and with haste
Fac'd the proud foe, and fled, and fac'd,
Retiring still, until he found 45

He 'ad got the advantage of the ground,
And then as val'antly made head
To check the foe, and forthwith fled,
Leaving no art untry'd, nor trick
Of warrior stout and politic, so

Until, in spite of hot pursuit,
He gain'd a pass, to hold dispute
On better terms, and stop the course

35 VAR. • Took heart of grace.'
37 VAR. ' For now the half-defeated Bear.'
VOL. I. G

82 HUDIBRAS.

Of the proud foe. With all his force

He bravely charg'd, and for awhile 55

Forc'd their whole body to recoil ;

But still their numbers so increas'd,

He found himself at length oppress'd,

And all evasions so uncertain,

To save himself for better fortune, do

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 C5

He 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 ? TO

Yet much he did, indeed too much

To be believ'd, where th' odds were such ;

But one against a multitude,

Is more than mortal can make good :

For while one party he oppos'd,

His rear was suddenly inclos'd,

And no room left him for retreat

Or fight against a foe so great.

For now the Mastives, charging home,

To blows and handy-gripes were come ;

While manfully himself he bore,

And setting his right foot before,

He rais'd himself, to shew how tall

His person was above them all.

This equal shame and envy stirr'd 85

In th' enemy, that one should beard

So manv warriors, and so stout,

PART I. CANTO III. 83

As he had done, and stav'd it out,

Disdaining1 to lay down his arms,

And yield on honourable terms. 90

Enraged thus, some in the rear

Attack'd him, and some ev'ry where,

Till down he fell ; yet falling fought,

And, being- down, still laid about:

As Widdrington, in doleful dumps, 95

Is said to fight upon his stumps.

But all, alas ! had been in vain,
And he inevitably slain,
If Trulla' and Cerdon in the nick
To rescue him had not been quick : ;oo

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 u-5

Than witches when their staves they liquor,
As some report), was got among
The foremost of the martial throng.
There pitying the vanquish'd Bear,
She call'd to Cerdon, who stood near, iu

Viewing the bloody fight ; to whom,

102 ' As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot.' Mr.
Warburton is of opinion that ' long-filed' would be more
proper ; as the Parthians were ranged in long files, a dis-
position proper for their manner of fighting, which was by
sudden retreats and sudden charges. Mr. Smith of Har-
leston, in Norfolk, thinks that the following alteration of
the line would be an improvement :

' As long-field shafts, which Parthians shoot.'

' Long-field Parthians' is right, i. e. Parthians who shoot
from a distance. ED.

84 HUDIBRAS.

Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum-drum,

And see stout Bruin, all alone,

By numbers basely overthrown ?

Such feats already he 'as achiev'd ii.o

In story not to be belie v'd,

And 'twould to us be shame enough

Not to attempt to fetch him off,

I would (quoth he) venture a limb

To second thee, and rescue him ; 120

But then we must about it straight,

Or else our aid will come too late :

Quarter he scorns, he is so stout,

And therefore cannot long hold out.

This said, they wav'd their weapons round iw

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

Mean- while th' approach'd the place where Bruin

Was now engag'd to mortal ruin :

The conqu'ring foe they soon assail'd,

First Trulla stav'd, and Cerdon tail'd,

Until their Mastives loos'd their hold ; 135

And yet, alas ! do what they could,

The worsted Bear came off with store

Of bloody wounds, but all before.

For as Achilles, dipt in pond,

Was anabaptiz'd free from wound, uo

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 us

PART I. CANTO III. 85

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 ; ioo

But tugg'd and pull'd on th' other side

Like scriv'ner newly crucify 'd,

Or like the late corrected leathern

Ears of the circumcised brethren.

But gentle Trulla into th' ring 155

He wore in 's nose convey 'd a string-,

With which she march'd before, and led

The warrior to a grassy bed,

As authors write, in a cool shade

Which eglantine and roses made, 160

Close by a softly murm'ring stream,

Where lovers us'd to loll and dream :

There leaving him to his repose,

Secured from pursuit of foes,

And wanting nothing but a song 165

And a well-tun'd theorbo hung

Upon a bough, to ease the pain

His tugg'd ears suffer'd, with a strain,

They both drew up, to march in quest

Of his great leader and the rest. 170

For Orsin (who was more renown'd
For stout maintaining of his ground,
In standing fight, than for pursuit,
As being not so quick of foot)
Was not long able to keep pace 175

With others that pursu'd the chace,
But found himself left far behind,
Both out of heart and out of wind.
Griev'd to behold his Bear pursued

86 HUD1BRAS.

So basely by a multitude, iso

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 iss

The accents of his sad regret :

He beat his breast and tore his hair,

For loss of his dear crony Bear,

That Echo, from the hollow ground,

His doleful wailings did resound 190

More wistfully, by many times,

That in small poets' splayfoot rhymes,

That make her, in their ruthful stories,

To answer to int'rrogatories,

And most unconscionably depose 195

To things of which she nothing knows ;

And when she has said all she can say,

'Tis wrested to the lover's fancy.

Quoth he, O whither, wicked Bruin !

Art thou fled to my — : 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 quail'd 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 budg*et.

iss 190 Xhis passage is beautiful, not only as it is a moving
lamentation, and evidences our Poet to be master of the
pathetic as well as the sublime style, but also as it com-
prehends a fine satire upon that false kind of wit of making
an echo talk sensibly, and give rational answers.

PART I. CANTO III. 87

Think'st thou 'twill 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 what a vengeance makes thee fly
From me too, as thine enemy ?
Or, if thou hast no thought of me, 215

Nor what I have endured for thee,
Yet shame and honour might prevail
To keep thee thus from turning tail :
For who would grutch to spend his blood in
His honour's cause ? Quoth she, A puddin. 220
This said, his grief to anger turn'd,
Which in his manly stomach burn'd ;
Thirst of revenge, and wrath, in place
Of sorrow, now began to blaze :
He vow'd the authors of his woe 225

Should equal vengeance undergo,
And with their bones and flesh pay dear
For what he suffer'd, and his Bear.
This being resolv'd, with equal speed
And rage he hasted to proceed 230

To action straight, and, giving o'er
To search for Bruin any more,
He went in quest of Hudibras,
To find him out where'er he was ;
" And, if he were above ground, vow'd cso

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. C40

Honour, revenge, contempt, and shame,
Did equally their breasts inflame.

88

HUDIBRAS.

'Mong these the fierce Magnano was,

And Talgol, foe to Hudibras,

Cerdon and Colon, warriors stout 215

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 sed 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 these fell wounds, or no, 260

He has receiv'd in fight, are mortal,
Is more than all my skill can foretell ;
Nor do I know what is become
Of him, more than the Pope of Rome.
But if I can but find them out 265

That caus'd it (as I shall, no doubt,
Where'er th' in hugger-mugger lurk)
I'll make them rue their handiwork,
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,
And so has ev'ry body here,
As well as thou hast, or thy Bear :

258 VAR. • Of them, but losing of my Bear.'

PART I. CANTO III. 89

Others may do as they see good ; 275

But if this twig be made of wood

That will hold tack, I'll make the fur

Fly 'bout the ears of that old cur,

And th' other mungrel vermin, Ralph,

That brav'd us all in his behalf. 280

Thy Bear is safe and out of peril,

Though lugg'd indeed and wounded very ill ;

Myself and Trulla made a shift

To help him out at a dead lift,

And having brought him bravely off, ess

Have left him where he's safe enough :

There let him rest ; for if we stay,

The slaves may hap to get away.

This said, they all engag'd to join
Their forces in the same design, 290

And forthwith put themselves in search
Of Hudibras upon their march :
Where leave we them a while, to tell
What the victorious Knight befell ;
For such, Crowdero being fast 295

In dungeon shut, we left him last.
Triumphant laurels seem'd to grow
No -where so green as on his brow,
Laden with which, as well as tir'd
With conqu'ring toil, he now retir'd 300

Unto a neighb'ring castle by,
To rest his body, and apply
Fit med'cines to each glorious bruise
He got in fight, reds, blacks, and blues ;
To mollify th' uneasy pang 305

Of ev'ry honourable bang ;
Which b'ing by skilful midwife drest,
He laid him down to take his rest.

90 HUDIBRAS.

But all in vain : h' had got a hurt,
O th' inside, of a deadlier sort, 310

By Cupid made, who took his stand
Upon a widow's jointure-land
(For he, in all his am'rous battles,
No 'dvantage finds like goods and chattels),
Drew home his bow, and, aiming right, sis

Let fly an arrow at the Knight.
The shaft against a rib did glance,
And gall him in the purtenance ;
But time had somewhat 'swag'd his pain,
After he found his suit in vain ; 320

For that proud dame, for whom his soul
Was burnt in 's belly like a coal,
(That belly that so oft did ake
And suffer griping for her sake,
Till purging comfits and ants' eggs 325

Had almost brought him off his legs),
Us'd him so like a base rascallion
That old Pyg — (what d' ye call him) — malion,
That cut his mistress out of stone,
Had not so hard a hearted one. sso

She had a thousand jadish tricks,
Worse than a mule that flings and kicks ;
'Mong which one cross -grain'd freak she had,
As insolent as strange and mad :
She could love none but only such 335

As scorn'd and hated her as much.
'Twas a strange riddle of a lady ;
Not love, if any lov'd her : hey-day !
So cowards never use their might

315 316 yAR> < AS how he did, and aiming right,

An arrow he let fly at Knight.'
338 VAR. ' Ha-day!'

PART I. CANTO III. 91

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 :

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 coney ; 355

Just so does he by matrimony.

But all in vain ; her subtle snout

Did quickly wind his meaning out,

Which she return'd with too much scorn

To be by man of honour borne : 360

Yet much he bore, until the distress

He suffer'd from his spightful mistress

Did stir his stomach, and the pain

He had endur'd from her disdain

Turn'd to regret so resolute 365

That he resolv'd to wave his suit,

And either to renounce her quite

Or for a while play least in sight.

This resolution b'ing put on,

He kept some months, and more had done, 370

But being brought so nigh by Fate,

The vict'ry he achiev'd so late

Did set his thoughts agog, and ope

92 HUDIBRAS.

A door to discontinu'd hope,

That seem'd to promise he might win °,:5

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 : sso

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, 335

And virtue invious ways can prove,

What may not he confide to do

That brings both love and virtue too ?

But thou bring'st valour too, and wit,

Two things that -seldom fail to hit. 390

Valour's a mouse-trap, wit a gin,

Which women oft are taken in :

Then, Hudibras, why should'st thou fear

To be, that art, a conqueror ?

Fortune th' audacious dothjuvare, 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,

PART I. CANTO III. 93

Then starts, and seizes on the wretch ;

So from his couch the Knight did start,

To seize upon the widow's heart, *io

Crying1, with hasty tone and hoarse,

Ralpho, dispatch, to horse, to horse.

And 'twas but time ; for now the rout,

We left engag'd to seek him out,

By speedy marches were advanc'd 415

Up to the fort were he ensconc'd,

And all th' avenues had possest

About the place, from east to west.

That done, a while they made a halt
To view the ground, and where t' assault : 420
Then call'd a council, which was best,
By siege or onslaught, to invest
The enemy ; and 'twas agreed

By storm and onslaught to proceed.

This b'ing resolv'd, in cornely sort 425

They now drew up t' attack the fort ;

When Hudibras, about to enter

Upon another-gates adventure,

To Ralpho call'd aloud to arm,

Not dreaming of approaching storm. 430

Whether Dame Fortune, or the care

Of angel bad, or tutelar,

Did arm, or thrust him on a danger

To which he was an utter stranger,

That foresight might, or might not, blot 435

The glory he had newly got,

Or to his shame it might be sed,

They took him napping in his bed ;

To them we leave it to expound

437 VAR. ' Might be said.'

94 HUD1BRAS.

That deal in sciences profound. 410

His courser scarce he had bestrid,
And Ralpho that on which he rid,
When, setting- ope the postern gate,
Which they thought best to sally at,
The foe appear'd drawn up and drill'd, 445

Ready to charge them in the field.
This somewhat startled the bold Knight,
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 4.C5

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 succumb,
Quocunque trahunt, 'tis our doom. 4fio

This is the same numeric crew
Which we so lately did subdue ;
The self-same individuals that
Did run, as mice do from a cat,
When we courageously did wield 165

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. ±70
Fear is an ague, that forsakes

1U V,vn. ' To take the fiold, and sally at.'

PART I. CANTO III. 90

And haunts, by fits, those whom it takes ;

And they'll opine they feel the pain

And blows they felt, to-day again.

Then let us boldly charge them home, 475

And make no doubt to overcome.

This said, his courage to inflame,
He call'd upon his mistress' name ;
His pistol next he cock'd anew,
And out his nut-brown whinyard drew, 430

And, placing Ralpho in the front,
Reserv'd himself to bear the brunt,
As expert warriors use : then ply'd
With iron heel his courser's side,
Conveying sympathetic speed 485

From heel of Knight to heel of steed.

Mean-while the foe, with equal rage
And speed, advancing to engag'e,
Both parties now were drawn so close,
Almost to come to handy-blows : 49.1

When Orsin first let fly a stone
At Ralpho ; not so huge a one
As that which Diomed did maul
jEneas on the bum withal,

Yet big enough, if rightly hurl'd, 435

T* have sent him to another world,
Whether above ground or below,
Which saints twice dipt are destin'd to.
The danger startled the bold Squire,
And made him some few steps retire ; 500

But Hudibras advanc'd to 's aid,
And rous'd his spirits half-dismay 'd.
He, wisely doubting lest the shot

47- YAP.. ' Haunts by turns.'

96 HUDIBRAS.

Of th' enemy, now growing hot,

Might at a distance gall, press'd close 5 .->.•>

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, observed in fight ;

When Fortune (as she's wont) turn'd fickle, 515

And for the foe began to stickle :

The more shame for her Goodyship,

To give so near a friend the slip.

For Colon, choosing out a stone, •

Levell'd so right, it thump'd upon 520

His manly paunch with such a force

As almost beat him off his horse.

He loos'd his whinyard and the rein,

But, laying fast hold on the mane,

Preserv'd his seat : and as a goose scs

In death contracts his talons close,

So did the Knight, and with one claw

The tricker of his pistol draw.

The gun went off; and as it was

Still fatal to stout Hudibras, 530

In all his feats of arms, when least

He dreamt of it, to prosper best,

So now he far'd ; the shot, let fly

At random 'mong the enemy,

5M VAR. ' He loos'd his weapon' — and, ' He lost his
whinyard.'

PART I. CANTO III. 97

Pierc'd Talgol's gabardine, and grazing 535

Upon his shoulder, in the passing

Lodg'd in Magnano's brass habergeon,

Who straight A surgeon, cry'd, A surgeon :

He tumbled down, and, as he fell,

Did Murder, Murder, Murder, yell. 540

This startled their whole body so,

That if the Knight had not let go

His arms, but been in warlike plight,

He'd 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 th' advantage of his fortune,

While danger did the rest dishearten. 550

For he with Cerdon b'ing engag'd

In close encounter, they both wag'd

The fight so well 'twas hard to say

Which side was like to get the day.

And now the busy work of Death 555

Had tir'd them so, th' agreed to breathe,

Preparing to renew the fight,

When the disaster of the Knight,

And th' other party, did divert

Their fell intent, and forc'd them part. 560

Ralpho press'd up to Hudibras,

And Cerdon where Magnano was,

545-546 yAR< « As Ralpho might, but he with care

Of Hudibras his hurt forbare.'
548 VAR. ' Hudibras his wound.'
331 VAR. • He had with Cerdon.'
553 VAR. ' So desperately.'
560 VAR. ' And force their sullen rage to part,'
VOL. I. H

98 HUD1BRAS.

Each striving to confirm his party
With stout encouragements and hearty.

Quoth Ralpho, Courage, valiant Sir, 555

And let revenge and honour stir
Your spirits up ; once more fall on,
The shatter'd foe begins to run :
For if but half so well you knew
To use your vict'ry as subdue, 570

They durst not, after such a blow
As you have given them, face us now,
But from so formidable a soldier
Had fled like crows when they smell powder.
Thrice have they seen your sword aloft 67.5

Wav'd o'er their heads, and fled as oft ;
But if you let them recollect
Their spirits, now dismay 'd and check t,
You'll have a harder game to play
Than yet y' have had, to get the day. JBO

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

I am for action now unfit
Either of fortitude or wit,
Fortune, my foe, begins to frown,
Resolv'd to pull my stomach down.

587 VAR. ' The clotted blood/

PART I. CANTO III. 99

I am not apt upon a wound, 595

Or trivial basting, to despond,

Yet I'd be loth my days to curtal ;

For if I thought my wounds not mortal,

Or that w' had time enough as yet

To make an honourable retreat, 600

'Twere the best course : but if they find

We fly, and leave our arms behind,

For them to seize on, the dishonour

And danger too is such, I'll sooner

Stand to it boldly and take quarter, 6o5

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 o' 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 Knight in a trance :
These being found out, and restor'd 615

To Hudibras, their nat'ral 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 6-20

He was pull'd back, till, having found
Th' advantage of the rising ground,
Thither he led his warlike steed,
And, having plac'd him right, with speed
Prepared again to scale the beast ; 625

When Orsin, who had newly drest

17 VAR. ' The active Squire, with might and main,
Prepar'd in haste to mount again.'

100

The bloody scar upon the shoulder
Of Talgol with Promethean powder,
And now was searching for the shot
That laid Magnano on the spot, 6so

Beheld the sturdy Squire aforesaid,
Preparing to climb up his horse-side :
He left his cure, and, laying hold
Upon his arms, with courage bold
Cry'd out, 'Tis now no time to dally, 6.35

The enemy begin to rally ;
Let us that are unhurt and whole
Fall on, and happy man be 's dole.
This said, like to a thunderbolt
He flew with fury to th' assault, 640

Striving th' enemy to attack
Before he reach'd his horse's back.
Ralpho was mounted now, and gotten
O'erthwart his beast with active vau'ting,
Wriggling his body to recover
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, fiotv

Bearing the tough Squire like a sack,
Or stout King Richard, on his back ;
Till stumbling, he threw him down,
Sore bruis'd, and cast into a swoon.
Meanwhile the Knight began to rouse 655

The sparkles of his wonted prowess :
He thrust his hand into his hose.
And found, both by his eyes and nose,
'Twas only choler, and not blood,
That from his wounded body flow'd. 660

PART I. CANTO III. 101

This, with the hazard of the Squire,

Innam'd him with despiteful ire :

Courageously he fac'd about,

And drew his other pistol out,

And now had half-way bent the cock ;

When Cerdon gave so fierce a shock

With sturdy truncheon, thwart his arm,

That down it fell and did no harm ;

Then, stoutly pressing on with speed,

Assay'd to pull him off his steed. o7g

The Knight his sword had only left,

With which he Cerdon's head had cleft,

Or at the least cropp'd off a limb,

But Orsin came, and rescu'd him.

He with his lance attack'd the Knight t?5

Upon his quarters opposite :

But as a barque, that in foul weather,

Toss'd by two adverse winds together,

Is bruis'd and beaten to and fro,

And knows not which to turn him to ; oso

So far'd the Knight between two foes,

And knew not which of them t' oppose :

Till Orsin, charging with his lance

At Hudibras, by spiteful chance

Hit Cerdon such a bang, as stunn'd

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, lie thou there,

And I shall straight dispatch another 6uo

To bear thee company in death ;

But first I'll halt a while, and breathe :

As well he might; for Orsin, griev'd

At th' wound that Cerdon had receiv'd,

102 HUDIBRAS.

Ran to relieve him with his lore, 6j5

And cure the hurt he gave before.

Meanwhile the Knight had wheel'd about

To breathe himself, and next find out

TV advantage of the ground, where best

He might the ruffled foe infest. 7o<>

This b'ing resolv'd, he spurr'd his steed,

To run at Orsin with full speed,

While he was busy in the care

•Of Cerdon's wound, and unaware :

But he was quick, and had already 705

Unto the part apply'd remedy ;

And seeing th' enemy prepar'd,

Drew up and stood upon his guard.

Then like a warrior right expert

And skilful in the martial art, 710

The subtle Knight straight made a halt,

And judg'd it best to stay th' assault,

Until he had reliev'd the Squire,

And then (in order) to retire,

Or, as occasion should invite, 715

With forces join'd renew the fight.

Ralpho, by this time disentranc'd,

Upon his bum himself advanc'd,

Though sorely bruis'd ; his limbs all o'er

With ruthless bangs were stiff and sore : 720

Right fain he would have got upon

His feet again, to get him gone,

When Hudibras to aid him came :

Quoth he (and call'd him by his name),
Courage, the day at length is ours, 725

And we once more, as conquerors,
Have both the field and honour won ;
The foe is profligate and run :

PARTI. CANTO III. 103

I mean all such as can, for some

This hand hath sent to their long1 home ; 730

And some lie sprawling on the ground,

With many a gash and bloody wound.

Caesar himself could never say

He got two vict'ries in a day

As I have done, that can say, twice I 715

In one day veni, vidi, vici.

The foe's so numerous, that we

Cannot so often vincere,

And they perire, and yet enow

Be left to strike an after- blow : 740

Then lest they rally, and once more

Put us to fight the bus'ness o'er,

Get up and mount thy steed; dispatch,

And let us both their motions watch.

Quoth Ralph, I should not, if I were 745

In case for action, now be here ;
Nor have I turn'd my back, or hang'd
An arse, for fear of being bang'd.
It was for you I got these harms,
Advent'ring to fetch off your arms. 750

The blows and drubs I have receiv'd
Have bruis'd my body, and bereav'd
My limbs of strength : unless you stoop
And reach your hands to pull me up,
I shall lie here, and be a prey 7.^.5

To those who now are run away.

That thou shalt not (quoth Hudibras) :
We read the Ancients held it was
More honourable far servare

Civem than slay an adversary : 7^0

The one we oft to-day have done,
The other shall dispatch anon ;

104 JJUD1BUAS.

And, though thou'rt of a diff'rent church,

I will not leave thee in the lurch.

This said, he jogg'd his good steed nigher, 76.5

And steer'd him gently t' wards the Squire,

Then, bowing down his body, stretch'd

His hand out, and at Ralpho reach'd ;

When Trulla, whom he did not mind,

Charg'd him like lightening behind. 770

She had been long in search about

Magnano's wound, to find it out,

But could find none, nor where the shot

That had so startled him was got ;

But, having found the worst was past, 775

She fell to her own work at last,

The pillage of the prisoners,

Which in all feats of arms was hers :

And now to plunder Ralph she flew,

When Hudibras his hard fate drew 7«o

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 th' 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 wave my title to thy flesh, ?yo

Thy arms and baggage, now my right,

And, if thou hast the heart to try 't,

I'll lend thee back thyself awhile,

And once more, for that carcase vile,

Fight upon tick. — Quoth Hudibras, 795

PART I. CANTO III. 105

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, son

And some to other worlds dispatcht,

Now, with a feeble spinster matcht,

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, sos

Consider, whilst thou may'st, what 'tis

To interrupt a victor's course

B' opposing such a trivial force :

For if with conquest I come off

(And that I shall do sure enough), 8io

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, sis

To show howr 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 sed,

When I have once more won thy head, sco

I took thee napping, unprepar'd,

Arm, and betake thee to thy guard.

This said, she to her tackle fell,
And on the Knight let fall a peal
Of blows so fierce, and press'd so home, 825

That he retir'd, and follow'd 's bum.
Stand to't, quoth she, or yield to mercy ;
It is not fighting arsie-versie

106

IIUDIBRAS.

Shall serve thy turn. — This stirr'd his spleen

More than the danger he was in, sso

The blows he felt or was to feel,

Although th' already made him reel.

Honour, despite, revenge, and shame,

At once into his stomach came ;

Which fir'd it so, he rais'd his arm RSS

Above his head and rain'd a storm

Of blows so terrible and thick,

As if he meant to hash her quick.

But she upon her truncheon took them,

And by oblique diversion broke them, 840

Waiting an opportunity

To pay all back with usury,

Which long she fail'd not of; for now

The Knight with one dead-doing blow

Resolving to decide the fight, 845

And she with quick and cunning sleight

Avoiding it, the force and weight

He charg'd upon it was so great

As almost sway'd him to the ground.

No sooner she th' advantage found, sso

But in she flew; and, seconding

With home-made thrust the heavy swing,

She laid him flat upon his side,

And, mounting on his trunk astride,

Quoth she, I told thee what would come 855

Of all thy vapouring, base scum :

Say, will the law of arms allow

857-866 VAR.

' Shall I have quarter now, you ruffin ?

Or wilt thou he worse than thy huffing?

Thou saidst th' would'st kill me, marry would'st thou ?

*\Vhv dost thou not, thou Jack-a-nods thou?'

PART I. CAXTO HI. 107

I may have grace and quarter now ?

Or wilt thou rather break thy word,

And stain thine honour than thy sword ? 860

A man of war to damn his soul,

In basely breaking his parole !

And when before the fight th' 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 ?

Quoth Hudibras, The day's thine own ;
Thou and thy stars have cast me down : sro

My laurels are transplanted now,
And flourish on thy conqu'ring brow :
My loss of honour's great enough,
Thou need'st not brand it with a scoff :
Sarcasms may eclipse thine own, 875

But cannot blur my lost renown :
I am not now in Fortune's power ;
He that is down can fall no lower.
The ancient heroes were illustr'ous
For being benign, and not blustrous 880

Against a vanquish'd foe : their swords
Were sharp and trenchant, not their words ;
And did in fight but cut work out
T' employ their courtesies about.

Quoth she, Although thou hast deserv'd, sss
Base Slubberdegullioa, 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

108 HUDIERAS.

All that's on th' outside of thy hide,

Are mine by military law,

Of which I will not bate one straw ;

The rest, thy life and limbs, once more, 895

Though doubly forfeit, I restore.

Quoth Hudibras, It is too late
For me to treat or stipulate ;
What thou command'st I must obey !
Yet those whom I expugn'd to-day, 900

Of thine own party, I let go,
And gave them life and freedom too,
Both Dogs and Bear, upon their parole,
Whom I took pris'ners in this quarrel.
Quoth Trulla, Whether thou or they 905

Let one another run away,
Concerns not me ; but was 't not thou
That gave Crowdero quarter too ?
Crowdero whom, in irons bound,
Thou basely threw'st into Lob's pound, 910

Where still he lies, and with regret
His gen'rous bowels rage and fret.
But now thy carcase shall redeem,
And serve to be exchang'd for him.

This said, the Knight did straight submit, 915
And laid his weapons at her feet.
Next he disrob'd his gabardine,
And with it did himself resign.
She took it, and forthwith divesting
The mantle that she wore, said jesting, yco

Take that, and wear it for my sake ;
Then threw it o'er his sturdy back.
And as the French we conquer'd once
Now give us laws for pantaloons,
The length of breeches and the gathers, 925

PART I. CANTO III. 109

Port-cannons, periwigs, and feathers ;
Just so the proud insulting- lass
Array'd and dighted Hudibras.

Meanwhile the other champions, yerst
In hurry of the fight disperst, 930

Arriv'd, when Trulla won the day,
To share i' th' honour and the prey,
And out of Hudibras his hide
With vengeance to be satisfy'd ;
Which now they were about to pour 935

Upon him in a wooden show'r,
But Trulla thrust herself between,
And, striding o'er his back agen,
She brandish'd o'er her head his sword,
And vow'd they should not break her word : 910
She 'ad given him quarter, and her blood,
Or theirs, should make that quarter good ;
For she was bound by law of arms
To see him safe from further harms.
In dungeon deep Crowdero, cast 915

By Hudibras, as yet lay fast,
Where, to the hard and ruthless stones,
His great heart made perpetual moans ;
Him she resolv'd that Hudibras
Should ransom, and supply his place. 950

This 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 releas'd,
Nor could that any way be done
So well as this she pitch'd upon :
For who a better could imagine ?

110

HUDIBRAS.

This therefore they resolv'd t' engage in. yfo

The Knight and Squire first they made

Rise from the ground where they were laid,

Then mounted both upon their horses,

But with their faces to the arses.

Orsin led Hudibras's beast, $5

And Talgol that which Ralpho prest ;

Whom stout Magnano, valiant Cerdon,

And Colon, waited as a guard on ;

All ush'ring Trulla in the rear,

With th' arms of either prisoner. y?o

In this proud order and array

They put themselves upon their way,

Striving to reach th' enchanted Castle,

Where stout Crowdero' in durance lay still.

Thither with greater speed than shows 975

And triumph over conquer'd foes

Do use t' allow, or than the Bears,

Or pageants borne before lord-mayors,

Are wont to use, they soon arriv'd,

In order soldier-like contriv'd, 9«o

Still marching in a warlike posture,

As fit for battle as for muster.

The Knight and Squire they first unhorse,

And, bending 'gainst the fort their force,

They all advanc'd, and round about yss

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, 090

And with an iron mace laid flat

A breach, which straight all enter'd at,

And in the wooden dungeon found

PART I. CANTO III. Ill

Crowdero laid upon the ground :

Him they release from durance base, 995

Restor'd t' his Fiddle and his case,

And liberty, his thirsty rage

With luscious vengeance to assuage:

For he no sooner was at large,

But Trulla straight brought on the charge, 1000

And in the self-same limbo put

The Knight and Squire where he was shut ;

Where leaving them in Hockley-i'-th'-hole,

Their bangs and durance to condole,

Confin'd and conjur'd into narrow iocs

Enchanted mansion to know sorrow,

In the same order and array

Which they advanc'd, they march'd away.

But Hudibras, who scorn'd to stoop

To Fortune, or be said to droop, 1010

Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse

And sayings of philosophers.

Quoth he, Th' one half of man, his mind,
Is, sui juris, unconfin'd,

And cannot be laid by the heels, 1015

Whate'er the other moiety feels.
Tis not restraint or liberty
That makes men prisoners or free ;
But perturbations that possess
The mind or equanimities. 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

1003 VAR. ' t' the wretched hole.'

112 IIUDIBRAS.

(For aught that ever I could read)

To whine, put finger i' th' eye, and sob,

Because h' had ne'er another tub.

The Ancients make two sev'ral kinds

Of prowess in heroic minds, n 30

The active and the passive val'ant,

Both which are pari libra gallant ;

For both to give blows, and to cany,

In fights are equi-necessary :

But in defeats the passive stout 1035

Are always found to stand it out

Most desp'rately, and to outdo

The active 'gainst a conqu'ring foe.

Though we with blacks and blues are suggil'd,

Or, as the vulgar say, are cudgel'd, 1040

He that is valiant and dares tight,

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 sed

To lie in Honour's truckle-bed. 1050

For as we see th' eclipsed sun

By mortals is more gaz'd upon

Than when, adorn'd with all his light,

He shines in serene sky most bright;

So valour in a low estate 1055

Is most admir'd and wonder'd at.

Quoth Ralph, How great I do not know
We may by being beaten grow ;
But none that see how here we sit

PARTI. CANTO III. 113

Will judge us overgrown with wit. loft)

As Gifted Brethren, preaching by

A carnal hour-glass, do imply

Illumination can convey

Into them what they have to say,

But not how much ; so well enough 1060

Know you to charge, but not draw off :

For who, without a cap and bawble,

Having subdued 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 :
When thou at any thing would'st rail, 1075

Thou mak'st Presbytery thy scale

161 1062 In those days there was always an hour-glass
stood by the pulpit, in a frame of iron made on purpose for
it, and fastened to the board on which the cushion lav,
that it might be visible to the whole congregation ; who, if
the sermon did not hold till the glass was out (which was
turned up as soon as the text was taken), would say that
the preacher was lazv* ; and, if he held out imich longer,
would yawn and stretch, and by those signs signify to the
preacher that they began to be weary of his discourse, and
wanted to be dismissed. These hour-glasses remained in
some churches till within these forty-years. If they liked
his discourse, they would sometimes ask him for ' another
glass.' ED.

1072 Ralpho looked upon their ill plight to be owing to
his master's bad conduct ; and, to vent his resentment, he
satirises him in the most affecting part of his character, his
religion. This by degrees brings on the old arguments
about Synods. The Poet, who thought he had not suffi-
ciently lashed classical assemblies, very judiciously com-
pletes it, now there is full leisure for it.

VOL. I. I

114 HUDIBRAS.

To take the height on't, and explain

To what degree it is profane.

Whats'ever will not with (thy what-d'-ye-call)

Thy Light jump right, thou call'st Synodical ; loso

As if Presbyt'ry were a standard

To size whats'ever's to be slander'd.

Dost not remember how this day

Thou to my beard wast bold to say

That thou could'st prove Bear-baiting, equal IOBS

With Synods, orthodox and legal ?

Do, if thou can'st ; for I deny't,

And dare thee to't with all thy light.

Quoth Ralpho, Truly that is no
Hard matter for a man to do 1090

That has but any guts in's brains,
And could believe it worth his pains :
But since you dare and urge me to it,
You'll find I've light enough to do it.

Synods are mystical Bear-gardens, ioys

Where Elders, Deputies, Church-wardens,
And other Members of the Court,
Manage the Babylonish sport ;
For Prolocutor, Scribe, and Bear-ward,
Do differ only in a mere word. 1100

Both are but sev'ral synagogues
Of carnal men, and Bears and Dogs :
Both antichristian assemblies,
To mischief bent as far 's in them lies i
Both stave and tail, with fierce contests, 1105

The one with men, the other beasts.
The diff'rence is, the one fights with
The tongue, the other with the teeth ;
And that they bait but Bears in this,
In th' other Souls and Consciences : 1110

PART I. CANTO III. 1 15

Where Saints themselves are brought to stake

For Gospel-light and Conscience' sake ;

Expos'd to Scribes and Presbyters,

Instead of Mastive Dogs and Curs ;

Than whom they've less humanity, 1115

For these at souls of men will fly.

This to the prophet did appear,

Who in a vision saw a Bear,

Prefiguring the beastly rage

Of Church-rule in this latter age ; 1 520

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, . nco

Church-censures, Curses, Absolutions,

But sev'ral mystic chains they make,

To tie poor Christians to the stake ?

And then set Heathen officers,

Instead of Dogs, about their ears. 1130

For to prohibit and dispense,

To find out, or to make offence ;

Of hell and heaven to dispose,

To play with souls at fast and loose ;

To set what characters they please, 1135

And mulcts on sin or godliness ;

Reduce the Church to Gospel-order,

By rapine, sacrilege, and murder ;

To make Presbytery supreme,

And Kings themselves submit to them ; mo

And force all people, though against

Their consciences, to turn Saints ;

Must prove a pretty thriving trade,

When Saints monopolists are made :

116 HUDIBRAS.

When pious frauds and holy shifts 1145

Are Dispensations and Gifts,

There godliness becomes mere ware,

And ev'ry Synod but a fair.

Synods are whelps o' 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 physiognomy of Grace ;

And by the sound and twang of nose,

If all be sound within disclose,

Free from a crack or flaw of sinning,

As men try pipkins by the ringing ; 1160

By black caps underlaid with white

Give certain guess at inward light,

use These Triers pretended to great skill in this respect;
and, if they disliked the beard or face of a man, they would,
for that reason alone, refuse to admit him, when presented
to a living, unless he had some powerful friend to support
him. " The questions that these men put to the persons to
he examined were not abilities and learning, but grace in
their hearts, and that with so bold and saucy an inquisition,
that some men's spirits trembled at the interrogatories ; they
phrasing it so, as if (as was said at the Council of Trent)
they had the Holy Ghost in a cloke-bag."

Their questions generally were these, or such like :
When were you converted? Where did you begin to fed
the motions of the Spirit? In what year? in what month ?
in. what day? about what hour of the day had you the se-
cret call, or motion of the Spirit, to undertake and labour in
the ministry ? What work of grace has God wrought upon
your soul? And a great many other questions about rege-
neration, predestination, and the like.

PART I. CANTO III. 1 17

Which Serjeants at the Gospel wear,

To make the Sp'ritual Calling- clear.

The handkerchief about the neck 1160

(Canonical cravat of Smeck,

From whom the institution came,

When Church and State they set on flame.

And worn by them as badges then

Of Spiritual Warfaring-men) 1170

Judge rightly if Regeneration

Be of the newest cut in fashion.

Sure 'tis an orthodox opinion,

That grace is founded in dominion :

Great piety consists in pride ; 1175

To rule is to be sanctify'd :

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. nso

Bell and the Dragon's chaplains were

More moderate than these by far :

For they (poor knaves) were glad to cheat,

To get their wives and children meat ;

But these will not be fobb'd off so, nes

They must have wealth and power too ;

Or else with blood and desolation

They'll tear it out o' th' heart o' th' nation.

Sure these themselves from primitive
And Heathen priesthood do derive, 1190

When Butchers were the only clerks, f?

Elders and Presbyters of Kirks ;
Whose directory was to kill,
And some believe it is so still.

11136 ' Smectymans' was a club of holders-forth.

118 HUDIBRAS.

The only difference is that then 1195

They slaughter'd only beasts, now men.

For then to sacrifice a bullock,

Or, now and then, a child to Moloch,

They count a vile abomination,

But not to slaughter a whole nation. K'OU

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 icos

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 and Boniface.

Such Church must, surely, be a monster

With many heads : for if we conster

What in th' Apocalypse we find, 1^15

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. isco

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, isco

Clerick before and Lay behind ;
A lawless linsey-woolsey brother,
Half of one order, half another ;

PARTI. CANTO III. 119

A creature of amphibious nature,

On land a beast, a fish in water : icso

That always preys on grace or sin ;

A sheep without, a wolf within.

This fierce inquisitor has chief

Dominion over men's belief

And manners ; can pronounce a saint 1235

Idolatrous, or ignorant,

When superciliously he sifts

Through coarsest boulter others' gifts :

For all men live and judge amiss

Whose talents jump not just with his ; icto

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' handywork

Of his mechanic paws, instilling ms

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. icso

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 ieoo

Are false and built upon mistake :
And I shall bring you, with your pack
Of fallacies, t' Elenchi back ;
And put your arguments in mood
And figure to be understood. ic6>j

I'll force you by right ratiocination
To leave your vitilitigation,

120 11UD1BRAS.

And make you keep to th' question close
And argue dialecticSts.

The question then, to state it first, 1265

Is, which is better or which worst,
Synods or Bears ? Bears I avow
To be the worst, and Synods thou ;
But to make good th' assertion,
Thou say'st they're really all one. 1270

If so, not worse ; for if they're 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 magg'ot and I am.
That both are animalia
I grant, but not rationalia :
For though they do agree in kind,
Specific difference we find ; 1280

And can no more make Bears of these,
Than prove my horse is Socrates.
That Synods are Bear-gardens, too,
Thou dost affirm ; but I say N o :
And thus I prove it, in a word ; 1235

Whats'ever Assembly 's not empow'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 quest'on
Which thou didst raise the first contest on :
For that was, Whether Bears are better
Than Synod-men ? I say Negatur.
That Bears are beasts, and Synods men, 1295

PART I. CANTO III. 121

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 ; isco

Or that a rugged shaggy fur

Grows o'er the hide of Presbyter;

Or that his snout and spacious ears

Do hold proportion with a Bear's.

A Bear's a savage beast, of all i3i>5

Most ugly and unnatural ;

Whelp'd without form, until the dam

Has lickt it into shape and frame :

But all thy light can oe'er evict,

That ever Synod-man was lickt, isio

Or brought to any other fashion

Than his own will and inclination.

But thou dost further yet in this
Oppugn thyself and sense ; that is,
Thou would'st have Presbyters to go is 15

For Bears and Dogs, and Beanvards too :
A strange chimera of beasts and men,
Made up of pieces het'rogene ;
Such as in Nature never met
In eodem subjecto yet. isco

Thy other arguments are all
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),

122 HUDIBRAS.

And is the same that Ranter sed,

Who, arguing with me, broke my head, 1330

And tore a handful of my beard :

The self-same cavils then I heard,

When, b'ing in hot dispute about

This controversy, we fell out ;

And what thou know'st I answer'd then 1335

Will serve to answer thee agen.

Quoth Ralpho, Nothing but th' abuse
Of human learning you produce ;
Learning, that cobweb of the brain,
Profane, erroneous, and vain ; 1340

A trade of knowledge as replete
As others are with fraud and cheat ;
An art t' encumber Gifts and wit,
And render both for nothing fit ;
Makes Light unactive, dull and troubled, 1315

Like little David in Saul's doublet :

1329 f jje Ranters were a vile sect that sprung up in those
times. Alexander Ross observes, " That they held that
God, devil, angels, heaven and hell, &c. were fictions and
fables; that Moses, John Baptist, and Christ, were impos-
tors ; and what Christ and the Apostles acquainted the
world with, as to matter of religion, perished with them ;
that preaching and praying are useless, and that preaching
is but publick lying ; that there is an end of all ministry
and administrations, and people are to be taught immedi-
ately from God," &c.

1339 Ralpho was as great an enemy to human learning as
Jack Cade and his fellow rebels. Cade's words to Lord
Say, before he ordered his head to be cut off: "I am the
besom that must sweep the Court clean of such filth as thou
art ; thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the
realm in erecting a grammar-school ; and whereas, before,
our forefathers had no other books but the Score and the
'Jf ally, thou hast caused Printing to be used ; and, contrary
to the King, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a Paper-

PART I. CANTO III. 123

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 perplext and intricate :

For nothing goes for Sense or Light, 1355

That will not with old rules jump right ;

As if rules were not in the schools

Deriv'd from truth, but truth from rules.

This Pagan, Heathenish, invention

Is good for nothing but contention : 1360

For as in sword and buckler fight

AIL blows do on the target light,

So, when men argue, the great'st part

O' th' contest falls on terms of art,

mill. It will be proved to thy face, that thou bast men
about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such
abominable words, as no Christian ear can endure to hear."

It was the opinion of those tinkers, tailors, &c. that
governed Chelmsford at the beginning of the Rebellion,
"That learning had always been an enemy to the Gospel,
and that it were a happy thing if there were no universi-
ties, and that all books were burned except the Bible."

" I tell you (says a writer of those times) wicked books
do as much wound us as the swords of our adversaries ;
for this manner of learning is superfluous and costly : many
tongues and languages are only confusion, and only wit,
reason, understanding, and scholarship, are the main means
that oppose us, and hinder our cause ; therefore, if ever we
have the fortune to get the upperhand — we will down with
all law and learning, and have no other rule but the Car-
penter's, nor any writing or reading but the Score and the
Tally."

124

HUDIBllAS.

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 the former opposite,

And contrary as black to white :

Mere disparata; that concerning

Presbytery, this human learning ;

Two things s' averse, they never yet 1375

But in thy rambling fancy met.

But I shall take a fit occasion

T' evince thee by' ratiocination,

Some other time in place more proper

Than this we 're in ; therefore let's stop here, i ?so

And rest our weary 'd bones a while,

Already tir'd with other toil.

PART II. CANTO I. 125

PART II. CANTO I.

TUE ARGUMENT.

The Knight, by damnable Magician,
Being cast illegally in prison,
Love brings his action on the case,
And lays it upon Hudibras.
How he receives the Lady's visit,
And cunningly solicits his suit,
\Vhich she defers ; yet, on parole,
Redeems him from th' enchanted hole.

BUT now, t' observe Romantique method,

Let bloody steel a while be sheathed,

And all those harsh and rugged sounds

Of bastinadoes, cuts, and wounds,

Exchanged to love's more gentle style, 5

Arg. l * VAR.

' The Knight being clapp'd by th' heels in prison,

The last unhappy expedition.'
Arg. 5 VAR. ' How he revi's,1 &c.

1 The beginning of this Second Part may perhaps seem
strange and abrupt to those who do not know that it was
written on purpose in imitation of Virgil, who begins the
Fourth Book of his .Eneids in the very same manner, ' At
regina gravi,' &c. And this is enough to satisfy the curi-
osity of those who believe that invention and fancy ouq-lit
to be measured, like -cases in law, by precedents, or else
they are in the power of the critic.

2 VAR. ' Let rusty steel,' and ' To trusty steel.'
*—* VAR. ' And unto love turn we our style,

To let our readers breathe a while,

By this time tir'd with th' horrid sounds

Of blows, and cuts, and blood, and wouuds.'

126 HUDIBRAS.

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,

They're forthwith cur'd of their capriches.

Some always thrive in their amours,

By pulling plasters off their sores co

As cripples do to get an alms,

Just so do they, and win their dames.

Some force whole regions, in despite

O' geography, to change their site ;

Make former times shake hands with latter, cs

And that which was before come after.

But those that 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 captiv'd Knight

And pensive Squire, both bruis'd in body,

And conjur'd into safe custody.

Tir'd with dispute, and speaking Latin, 35

As well as basting and Bear-baiting,

10 VAR. 'That a man's fancy.'
32 VAR. ' We lately.'

PART II. CANTO I. 1'27

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 a<?ain, and mend ;

In which he found th' event, no less

Than other times, beside his guess.

There is a tall long-sided dame, 45

(But wond'rous light) ycleped Fame,
That like a thin 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, c.5

And Mercuries of furthest regions ;
Diurnals writ for regulation
Of lying, to inform the nation,
And by their public use to bring down
The rate of whetstones in the kingdom. 60

About her neck a packet-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 hailstones big as pullets' eggs, 65

46 The beauty of this consists in the double meaning.
The first alludes to Fame's living on Report : the second
is an insinuation, that if a report is narrowly enquired into,
and traced up to the original author, it is made to contra-
dict itself.

128 IIUDIBRAS.

And puppies whelp'd with twice two leg-s ;

A blazing- star seen in the west,

By six 'or seven men at least.

Two trumpets she does sound at once,

But both of clean contrary tones : 70

But whether both with the same wind,

Or one before and one behind,

We know not, only this can tell,

The one sounds vilely, th' other well ;

And therefore vulgar authors name 75

Th' one Good, the other evil Fame.

This tattling gossip knew too well
What mischief Hudibras befell ;
And straight the spiteful tidings bears
Of all, to th' unkind Widow's ears. »o

Democritus ne'er laugh'd so loud
To see bawds carted through the crowd,
Or funerals, with stately pomp,
March slowly on in solemn dump,
As she laugh'd out, until her back, 85

As well as sides, was like to crack.
She vow'd she would go see the sight,
And visit the distressed Knight ;
To do the office of a neighbour,
And be a gossip at his labour ; !•>>

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 {>:>

And usher, implements abroad

77 VAR. ' Twattlirig gossip'.

91 VAR. ' That is to see him deliver'd safe

Of 's wooden burden, and Squire Raph.'

PART. II. CANTO I. 129

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 his stout Squire in the pound,

Both coupled in enchanted tether

By further leg behind together.

For as he sat upon his rump, ics

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; ii>

She came upon him in his wooden

Magician's circle on the sudden,

As spirits do t' a conjurer

When in their dreadful shapes th' appear.

No sooner did the Knight perceive her, i\s

But straight he fell into a fever,
Inflam'd all over with disgrace
To be seen by her in such a place ;
Which made him hang his head, and 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,

12 There was never certainly a pleasanter scene
imagined than this before us ; it is the most diverting in-
cident in the whole Poem. The unlucky and unexpected
visit of the Lady, the attitude and surprise of the Knight,
the confusion and blushes of the lover, and the satirical
raillery of a mistress, are represented in lively colours, and
conspire to make this interview wonderfully pleasing.
VOL. I. K

130 IIUDIBRAS.

And with delinquent spirits haunted,

That here are ty'd in chains and scourg'd i?5

Until their guilty crimes be purg'd :

Look, there are two of them appear

Like persons I have seen somewhere.

Some have mistaken blocks and posts

For spectres, apparitions, ghosts, isu

With saucer eyes, and horns ; and some

Have heard the devil beat a drum ;

But, if our eyes are not false glasses

That give a wrong account of faces,

That beard and I should be acquainted las

Before 'twas conjur'd and enchanted ;

For, though it be disfigur'd somewhat,

As if 't had lately been in combat,

It did belong to a worthy Knight,

Howe'er this goblin is come by 't. HO

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 n:>

A face upon it as he could ;
And thus he spoke : Lady, your bright
And radiant eyes are in the right ;
The beard 's th' identique beard you knew,
The same numerically true ; i."o

Nor is it worn by fiend or elf,
But its proprietor himself.

O heavens ! quoth she, can that be true I
I do begin to fear 'tis you ;
Not by your individual whiskers, i v.

14- VAH. ' To take kind notice of his beard.'

PART II. CANTO I. 131

But by your dialect and discourse,

That never spoke to man or beast

In notions vulgarly exprest :

But what malignant star, alas !

Has brought you both to this sad pass ?

Quoth he, The fortune of the war,
Which I am less afflicted for
Than to be seen with beard and face
By you in such a homely case.

Quoth she, Those need not be asham'd ids

For being honourably maim'd :
If Jie that is in battle conquer'd
Have any title to his own beard,
Though yours be sorely lugg'd and torn,
It does your visage more adorn 170

Than if 'twere prun'd, and starch'd, and lander'd,
And cut square by the Russian standard.
A torn beard 's like a tatter'd ensign ;
That's bravest which there are most rents in.
That petticoat about your shoulders 175

Does not so well become a 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, iso

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, IEJ

But merely as 'tis understood.
Sense is deceitful, and may feign

164 VAR. 'In such elenctique case.'

A 04 HUDIBRAS.

As well in counterfeiting pain

As other gross phenomenas,

In which it oft mistakes the case. iyo

But since th' immortal intellect

(That's free from error and defect,

Whose objects still persist the same)

Is free from outward bruise or maim,

Which nought external can expose 195

To gross material bangs or blows,

It follows we can ne'er be sure

Whether we pain or not endure ;

And just so far are sore and griev'd

As by the fancy is believ'd. coo

Some have been wounded with conceit,

And dy'd of mere opinion straight ;

Others, though wounded sore in reason,

Felt no contusion nor discretion.

A Saxon duke did grow so fat cos

That mice (as histories relate)

Ate grots and labyrinths to dwell in

His postique parts, without his feeling ;

Then how is 't possible a kick

Should e'er reach that way to the quick ? 210

Quoth she, I grant it is in vain
For one that 's basted to feel pain,
Because the pangs his bones endure
Contribute nothing to the cure ;
Yet honour 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

PART II. CANTO I.

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, ™5

With some whom they have taught that cunning.

The furthest way about t' o'ercome

In th' end does prove the nearest home.

By laws of learned duellists,

They that are bruis'd with wood or fists, eio

And think one beating may for once

Suffice, are cowards and pultroons ;

But if they dare engage t' a second,

They're stout and gallant fellows reckon'd.

Th' old Romans freedom did bestow, 2.35

Our princes worship, with a blow.

King Pyrrhus cur'd his splenetic

And testy courtiers with a kick.

The Negus, when some mighty lord

Or potentate 's to be restor'd, 240

And pardon'd for some great offence

With which he 's willing to dispense,

First has him laid upon his belly,

Then beaten back and side t' a jelly :

That done, he rises, humbly bows, 1*5

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,

232 VAR. ' Poltroons.'
239 A king of Ethiopia.

241 242 yAR> < TO his good grace for some offence
Forfeit before, and pardon'd since.'

134 HUDIBRAS.

The more his valour 's malleable :

But he that fears a bastinado

Will run away from his own shadow.

And though I'm now in durance fast 255

By our own party basely cast,

Ransom, exchange, parole refus'd,

And worse than by the 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 cfis

Advance me to a greater height.

Quoth she, You've almost made me' in love
With that which did my pity move.
Great wits and valours, like great states,
Do sometimes sink with their own weights : 270
Th' extremes of glory and of shame,
Like east and west, become the same :
No Indian prince has to his palace
More foll'wers than a thief to th' gallows.
But, if a beating seem so brave, 275

What glories must a whipping have ?
Such great achievements cannot fail
To cast salt on a woman's tail :
For if I thought your nat'ral talent
Of passive courage were so gallant, sso

As you strain hard to have it thought,
I could grow amorous and dote.

When Hudibras this language heard,
He prick'd up 's ears, and strok'd his beard ;
Thought he, This is the lucky hour, 285

PART II. CANTO I. 135

Wines work when vines are in the flow'r :
This crisis then I'll set my rest on,
And put her boldly to the quest'on.

Madam, what you would seem to doubt
Shall be to all the world made out ; eoo

How I've been drubb'd, and with what spirit
And magnanimity I bear it :
And if you doubt it to be true,
I'll stake myself down against you ;
And if I fail in love or troth, co5

Be you the winner and take both.

Quoth she, I've heard old cunning stagers
Say, fools for arguments use wagers ;
And, though I prais'd your valour, yet
I did not mean to baulk your wit ; son

Which if you have, you must needs know
What I have told you before now,
And you b' experiment have prov'd ;
I cannot love where I'm belov'd.

Quoth Hudibras, Tis a caprich 305

Beyond th' infliction of a witch ;
So cheats to play with those still aim
That do not understand the game.
Love in your heart as idly burns
As fire in antique Roman urns .110

To warm the dead, and vainly light
Those only that see nothing by't.
Have you not power to entertain,
And render love for love again ;
As no man can draw in his breath 31.:

At once, and force out air beneath ?
Or do you love yourself so much,
To bear all rivals else a grutch ?
What fate can lay a greater curse

136 IIUDIBRAS.

Than you upon yourself would force ? 320

For Wedlock without love, some say,

Is but a lock without a key.

It is a kind of rape to marry

One that neglects or cares not for ye :

For what does make it ravishment 325

But b'ing against the mind's consent ?

A rape that is the more inhuman,

For being acted by a woman.

Why are you fair, but to entice us

To love you, that you may despise us ? 310

But though you cannot love, you say,

Out of your own fanatic way,

Why should you not at least allow

Those that love you to do so too ?

For, as you fly me, and pursue 335

Love more averse, so I do you ;

And am by your own doctrine taught

To practise what you call a fault.

Quoth she, If what you say is true,
You must fly me as I do you ; .340

But 'tis not what we do, but say,
In love and preaching, that must sway.

Quoth he, To bid me not to love
Is to forbid my pulse to move,
My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, 3-15

Or (when I'm in a fit) to hiccup.
Command me to piss out the moon,
And 'twill as easily be done.
Love's pow'r 's too great to be withstood
By feeble human flesh and blood. 350

'Twas he that brought upon his knees

332 VAR. ' Fanatique.' Qy. ' Fantastic V

PART II. CANTO I. 137

The hect'ring kill-cow Hercules,

Transform'd his leager-lion's skin

T' a petticoat, and made him spin ;

Seiz'd on his club, and made it dwindle 355

T' a feeble distaff and a spindle :

'Twas he that made emp'rors gallants

To their own sisters and their aunts ;

Set Popes and Cardinals agog1,

To play with pages at leap-frog : 360

'Twas he that gave our Senate purges,

And fluxt the House of many a burgess ;

Made those that represent the nation

Submit, and suffer amputation ;

And all the Grandees o' th' Cabal 365

Adjourn to tubs at spring and fall.

He mounted Synod-men and rode 'em

To Dirty- Lane and Little Sodom ;

Made 'em curvet like Spanish Jenets,

And take the ring at Madam 's. 370

'Twas he that made Saint Francis do

More than the devil could tempt him to,

In cold and frosty weather grow

Enamour'd of a wife of snow ;

And though she were of rigid temper, 375

With melting flames accost and tempt her ;

Which after in enjoyment quenching,

He hung a garland on his engine.

370 " Stennet was the person whose name was dashed,"
says Sir Roger L'Estrange, ' Key to Hudibras.' " Her
husband was by profession a broom-man and lay-elder.
She followed the laudible employment of bawding, and
managed several intrigues for those Brothers and Sisters
whose purity consisted chiefly in the whiteness of their
linen."

138 HUDIBRAS.

Quoth she, If love have these effects,
Why is it not forbid our sex ? sso

Why is't not damn'd and interdicted
For diabolical and wicked ?
And sung1, as out of tune, against,
As Turk and Pope are by the Saints?
I find I've greater reason for it, 335

Than I believ'd before, t' abhor it.

Quoth Hudibras, These sad effects
Spring from your heathenish neglects
Of Love's great pow'r, which he returns
Upon yourselves with equal scorns,
And those who worthy lovers slight,
Plagues with prepost'rous appetite :
This made the beauteous Queen of Crete
To take a town-bull for her sweet ;
And from her greatness stoop so low, sns

To be the rival of a cow :
Others to prostitute their great hearts
To be baboons' and monkeys' sweethearts :
Some with the devil himself in league grow,
By 's representative a Negro. 400

'Twas this made Vestal maid love-sick,
And venture to be bury'd quick :
Some by their fathers and their brothers
To be made mistresses and mothers.
Tis this that proudest dames enamours 405

On lacquies and valets des chambres ;
Their haughty stomachs overcomes,
And makes them stoop to dirty grooms ;
To slight the world, and to disparage
Claps, issue, infamy, and marriage. 410

406 VAR. ' Varlets des chambres.'

PART II. CANTO I. 139

Quoth she, These judgments are severe,
Yet such as I should rather bear
Than trust men with their oaths, or prove
Their faith and secrecy in love.

Says he, There is as weighty reason 415

For secrecy in love as treason.
Love is a burglarer, a felon,
That at the windore eye does steal in
To rob the heart, and with his prey
Steals out -again a closer way, 420

Which whosoever can discover,
He's sure (as he deserves) to suffer.
Love is a fire, that burns and sparkles
In men as nat'rally as in charcoals,
Which sooty chemists stop in holes 4C5

When out of wood they extract coals ;
So lovers should their passions choke,
That though they burn, they may not smoke.
'Tis like that sturdy thief that stole
And dragg'd beasts backward into 's hole ; 430
So love does lovers, and us men
Draws by the tails into his den,
That no impression may discover
And trace t' his cave the wary lover.
But if you doubt I should reveal 435

What you intrust me under seal,
I'll prove myself as close and virtuous
As your own secretary' Albertus.

Quoth she, I grant you may be close
In hiding what your aims propose : 440

Love-passions are like parables,
By which men still mean something else :

«8 VAR. ' Window eye.'

140 IIUDIBRAS.

Though love be all the world's pretence,
Money's the mythologic sense,
The real substance of the shadow, 115

Which all address and courtship's made to.

Thought he, I understand your play,
And how to quit you your own way :
He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he bends his bow ; 150

With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.
I grant, quoth he, wealth is a great
Provocative to am'rous heat :
It is all philtres and high diet 455

That makes love rampant and to fly out :
'Tis beauty always in the flower,
That buds and blossoms at fourscore :
'Tis that by which the sun and moon
At their own weapons are outdone : 4;io

That makes knights-errant fall in trances,
And lay about 'em in romances :
'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all
That men divine and sacred call ;
For what is worth in any thing 465

But so much money as 'twill bring ?
Or what but riches is there known
Which man can solely call his own,
In which no creature goes his half,
Unless it be to squint and laugh ? . 470

I do confess, with goods and land,
I'd have a wife at second-hand ;
And such you are : nor is 't your person
My stomach 's set so sharp and fierce on,
But 'tis (your better part) your riches 475

That my enamour'd heart bewitches :

PART II. CANTO I. 141

Let me your fortune but possess,

And settle your person how you please ;

Or make it o'er in trust to th' devil,

You'll find me reasonable and civil. 480

Quoth she, I like this plainness better
Than false mock-passion, speech, or letter,
Or any feat of qualm or sowning-,
But hanging of yourself or drowning ;
Your only way with me to break 485

Your mind is breaking of your neck :
For as when merchants break, o'erthrown
Like nine-pins, they strike others down,
So that would break my heart ; which done,
My tempting fortune is your own. 490

These are but trifles ; ev'ry lover
Will damn himself over and over,
And greater matters undertake,
For a less worthy mistress' sake :
Yet they're the only ways to prove 495

Th' unfeign'd realities of love ;
For he that hangs, or beats out 's brains,
The devil 's in him if he feigns.

Quoth Hudibras, This way 's too rough
For mere experiment and proof; 500

It is no jesting trivial matter
To swing i' th' air, or dive in water,
And like a water- witch try love ;
That's to destroy, and not to prove :
As if a man should be dissected, DOS

To find what part is disaffected :
Your better way is to make over,
In trust, your fortune to you lover.

483 VAR. ' Swooning.'

142 HUDIBRAS.

Trust is a trial ; if it break,

Tis not so desp'rate as a neck : 510

Beside, th' experiment 's more certain ;

Men venture necks to gain a fortune :

The soldier does it ev'ry day

(Eight to the week) for sixpence pay ;

Your pettifoggers damn their souls, 515

To share with knaves in cheating fools ;

And merchants, vent'ring through the main,

Slight pirates, rocks, and horns, for gain.

This is the way I advise you to ;

Trust me, and see what I will do. si'o

Quoth she, I should be loth to run
Myself all th' hazard, and you none ;
Which must be done, unless some deed
Of yours aforesaid do precede :
Give but yourself one gentle swing 525

For trial, and I'll cut the string ;
Or give that rev'rend head a maul,
Or two or three, against a wall,
To show you are a man of mettle,
And I'll engage myself to settle. 530

Quoth he, My head's not made of brass,
As Friar Bacon's noddle was,
Nor (like the Indian's scull) so tough
That, authors say, 'twas musket-proof;
As it had need to be, to enter 535

As yet on any new adventure.
You see what bangs it has endur'd,
That would, before new feats, be cur'd :
But if that's all you stand upon,
Here strike me, Luck, it shall be done. :>M

Quoth she, The matter's not so far gone
As you suppose ; two words t' a bargain :

PART II. CANTO I. 143

That may be done, and time enough,

When you have given downright proof :

And yet 'tis no fantastic pique * 545

I have to love, nor coy dislike ;

Tis no implicit nice aversion

T' your conversation, mien, or person ;

But a just fear lest you should prove

False and perfidious in love : 550

For, if I thought you could be true,

I could love twice as much as you.

Quoth he, My faith as adamantin
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,
The sun and day shall sooner part
Than love or you shake off my heart ;
The sun, that shall no more dispense
His own, but your bright influence.
I'll carve your name on barks of trees sc-5

With true-love-knots and flourishes,
That shall infuse eternal spring
And everlasting flourishing ;
Drink ev'ry letter on 't in stum,
And make it brisk Champaign become. 570

Where'er you tread, your foot shall set
The primrose arid 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 ;

144 HUDIBRAS.

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, 530

And like to heralds' moons remain

All crescents, without change or wane.
Hold, hold, quoth she, no more of this ;

Sir Knight, you take your aim amiss ;

For you will find it a hard chapter 535

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. 500

She that with poetry is won

Is but a desk to write upon ;

And what men say of her they mean

No more than on the thing they lean.

Some with Arabian spices strive 595

T" embalm her cruelly alive ;

Or season her, as French cooks use

Their haut-gousts, bouilles, or ragousts ;

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, compar'd t' an oyster's, with

A row of pearl in 't 'stead of teeth.

Others make posies of her cheeks, r>o3

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 darkened in the skie.s,

PART II. CANTO I. 145

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 ribands would have hung

Of which melodiously they sung.

That have the hard fate to write best 625

Of those still that deserve it least :

It matters not how false or forc'd,

So the best things be said o' th' worst ;

It goes for nothing when 'tis sed,

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, fas

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, G4o

As one cut out to pass your tricks on,

With Fulhams of poetic fiction.

645 A cant word for false dice.
VOL. I. L

146 IIUD1BRAS.

I rather hop'd I should no more

Hear from you o' th' gallanting- score ;

For hard dry bastings us'd to prove 0*5

The readiest remedies of love

Next a dry diet : but if those fail,

Yet this uneasy loop-hol'd 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 vent'ring on that dragon, marriage ; 660

Yet give me quarter, and advance

To nobler aims your puissance ;

Level at beauty and at wit,

The fairest mark is easiest hit.

Quoth Hudibras, I'm beforehand f;6:>

In that already with your command ;
For where does beauty and high wit
But in your Constellation meet ?

Quoth she, What does a match imply
But likeness and equality ? 670

I know you cannot think me fit
To be th' yokefellow of your wit ;
Nor take one of so mean deserts
To be the partner of your parts ;
A grace which, if I could believe, 075

I've not the conscience to receive.

PART II. CANTO I. 147

That conscience, quoth Hudibras,
Is misinform'd : I'll state the case.
A man may be a legal doner
Of any thing whereof he's owner, 6eo

And may confer it where he lists,
I' th' judgment of all casuists :
Then wit, and parts, and valour, may
Be ali'nated and made away

By those that are proprietors, f 85

As I may give or sell my horse.

Quoth she, I grant the case is true
And proper 'twixt your horse and you :
But whether I may take, as well
As you may give away or sell ? 690

Buyers, you know, are bid beware ;
And worse than thieves receivers are.
How shall I answer Hue and Cry
For a Roan- gelding, twelve hands high,
All spurr'd and switch'd, a lock on 's hoof, 695
A sorrel mane ? Can I bring proof
Where, when, by whom, and what y' were sold for,
And in the open market told 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 mean time I must pay
For all your provender and hay.

Quoth he, It stands me much upon 705

T' enervate this objection,
And prove myself, by topic clear,
No gelding, as you would infer.
Loss of virility 's averr'd
To be the cause of loss of beard, 710

148

HUDIBRAS.

That does (like embryo in the womb)

Abortive on the chin become :

This first a woman did invent

In envy of man's ornament,

Semiramis of Babylon, 713

Who first of all cut men o' th' stone

To mar their beards, and laid 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
Erroneously 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
With wolves upon all four to hunt.
As for your reasons drawn from tails,
We cannot say they're true or false,
Till you explain yourself and show . 73*

B' experiment 'tis so or no.

Quoth he, If you'll join issue on't,
I'll give you sat'sfact'ry account;
So you will promise, if you lose,
To settle all and be my spouse. 7*0

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 ;

PART II. CANTO I. 149

And though the vulgar count them homely, w

In men or beast they are so comely,

So gentee, alamode, and handsome,

I'll never marry man that wants one :

And till you can demonstrate plain

You have one equal to your mane, 750

I'll be torn piecemeal by a horse

Ere I'll take you for better or worse.

The Prince of Cambay's daily food

Is asp, and basilisk, and toad,

Which makes him have so strong a breath 755

Each night he stinks a queen to death ;

Yet I shall rather lie in 's arms

Than yours on any other terms.

Quoth he, What Nature can afford
I shall produce, upon my word ; 70»>

And if she ever gave that boon
To man, I'll prove that I have one ;
I mean by postulate illation,
When you shall offer just occasion :
But since y' have yet deny'd to give 765

My heart, your pris'ner, a reprieve,
But made it sink down to my heel,
Let that at least your pity feel ;
And, for the suffrings 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 ;
And if I knew which way to do't 775

(Your honour safe) I'd let you out.
That dames by jail-delivery
Of errant knights have been set free,

150 IIUDIBRAS.

When by enchantment they have been,

And sometimes for it too, laid in ; 780

Is that which knights are bound to do

By order, oath, and honour too.

For what are they renown'd and famous else,

But aiding of distressed damosels ?

But for a lady, no ways errant, 785

To free a knight, we have no warrant

In any authentical romance,

Or classic author yet of France ;

And I'd be loth to have you break

An ancient custom for a freak, 790

Or innovation introduce

In place of things of antique use,

To free your heels by any course

That might b' unwholesome to your spurs :

Which, if I should consent unto, 795

It is not in my pow'r to do ;

For 'tis a service must be done ye

With solemn previous ceremony,

Which always has been us'd t' untie

The charms of those who here do lie. soo

For as the Ancients heretofore

To Honour's temple had no dore

But that which thorough Virtue's lay,

So from this dungeon there's no way

To honoured freedom, but by passing sos

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. aio

Whipping, that's Virtue's governess,

Tiil'ress of arts and sciences,

PART II. CANTO I. 151

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, szo

And in their way attended on

By magistrates of ev'ry town ;

And, all respect and charges paid,

They're to their ancient seats convey 'd.

Now if you'll venture, for my sake, aco

To try the toughness of your back,

And suffer (as the rest have done)

The laying of a whipping on

(And may you prosper in your suit,

As you with equal vigour do't), sso

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 ? 340

What med'cine else can cure the fits

Of lovers when they lose their wits ?

Love is a boy by poets styl'd,

VAR. ' 1 here engage to be your bayl,

And free you from the unknightly jayl.'

152

IIUDIBRAS.

Then spare the rod, and spoil the child.

A Persian emp'ror whipp'd his grannam, 845
The sea, his mother Venus came on ;
And hence some rev'rend men approve
Of rosemary in making love.
As skilful coopers hoop their tubs
With Lydian and with Phrygian dubs, wo

Why may not whipping have as good
A grace, performed in time and mood,
With comely movement, and by art
Raise passion in a lady's heart?
It is an easier way to make ,™;>

Love by, than that which many take.
Who would not rather suffer whippin,
Than swallow toasts of bits of ribbin ?
Make wicked verses, treats, and faces,
And spell names over with beer-glasses ? »6o

Be under vows to hang and die
Love's sacrifice, and all a lye ? •

With china-oranges and tarts,
And wining plays, lay baits for hearts ?
Bribe chambermaids with love and money 865

To break no roguish jests upon ye ?
For lilies limn'd on cheeks, and roses,
With painted perfumes hazard noses ?
Or, vent'ring to be brisk and wanton,
Do penance in a paper lantern ? 370

All this you may compound for now,
By suffring 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 a?5

For the Infanta Del Toboso ?
Did not th' illustrious Bassa make

PART II. CANTO I. 153

Himself a slave for Misse's sake,

And with bull's pizzle, for her love,

Was taw'd as gentle as a g'love ? sso

Was not young Florio sent (to cool

His flame for Biancafiore) to school,

Where pedant made his pathic bum

For her sake suffer martyrdom ?

Did not a certain lady whip, 885

Of late, her husband's own lordship ?

And, though a grandee of the House,

Claw'd him with fundamental blows ;

Ty'd him stark-naked to a bedpost,

And firk'd his hide as if sh' had rid post ; ago

And after in the Sessions court,

Where whipping's judg'd, had honour for 't ?

This swear you will perform, and then

I'll set you from th' 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 found
T' undo the charms another bound,
The sun grew low and left the skies,
Put down (some write) by ladies' eyes.
The moon pull'd off her veil of light, yos

That hides her face by day from sight
(Mysterious veil, of brightness made,
That's both her lustre and her shade),
And in the lantern of the night

894 VAR. ' I'll free you.'

154 HUDIBRAS.

With shining horns hung- out her light ; 910

For darkness is the proper sphere

Where all false glories use t' appear.

The twinkling stars began to muster,

And glitter with their borrow'd lustre,

While sleep the weary'd world reliev'd, yis

By counterfeiting death reviv'd.

His whipping penance, till the morn

Our vot'ry thought it best t' adjourn,

And not to carry on a work

Of such importance in the dark, 920

With erring haste, but rather stay,

And do't in th' open face of day ;

And in the mean-time go in quest

Of next retreat to take his rest.

PART II. CANTO II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Knight and Squire in hot dispute,
Within an ace of falling out,
Are parted with a sudden fright
Of strange alarm, and stranger sight;
With which adventuring to stickle,
They're sent away in nasty pickle.

'Tis strange how some men's tempers suit
(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,

2 VAK. ' Brandee.'

PART II. CANTO II. 155

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 ;

Dispute, and set a paradox

Like a straight boot upon the stocks,

And stretch it more unmercifully

Than Helmont, Montaigne, White, or Tully.

So th' ancient Stoics, in their porch, is

With fierce dispute maintain'd their church,

Beat out their brains in fight and study

To prove that virtue is a body,

That bonum is an animal

Made good with stout polemic brawl ; 20

In which some hundreds on the place

Were slain outright, and many a face

Retrench'd of nose, and eyes, and beard,

To maintain what their sect averr'd.

All which the Knight and Squire, in wrath, 25

Had like t' have suffer'd 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, so

And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn
From black to red began to turn ;
When Hudibras, whom thoughts and aking
'Twixt sleeping kept all night and waking,
Began to rub his drowsy eyes, 35

And from his couch prepar'd to rise,
Resolving to dispatch the deed

14 VAR. ' Montaign and Lully.'

156 HUDIBRAS.

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-duty swore.

Where now arriv'd, and half unharnest,

To carry on the work in earnest, 50

He stopp'd, and paus'd upon the sudden,

And with a serious forehead plodding,

Sprung a new scruple in his head,

Which first he scratch 'd and after seel.

Whether it be direct infringing 55

An oath, if I should wave this swinging,

And what I've sworn to bear forbear,

48 VAR. • Whipping duly swore.'

55 se This dialogue between Hudibras and Ralph sets
before us the hypocrisy and villany of all parties of the
Rebels with regard to oaths; what equivocations and
erasions they made use of to account for the many perjuries
they were daily guilty of, and the several oaths they readily
took, and as readily broke, merely as they found it suited
their interest, as appears from v. 107, &c. and v. 377, &c.
of this Canto, and Part in. Canto in. v. 547, &c. Arch-
bishop Bramhall says, " That the hypocrites of those times,
though they magnified the obligation of an oath, yet in their
own case dispensed with all oaths, civil, military, and re-
ligious. We are now told," says he, " that the oaths we
have taken are not to be examined according to the inter-
pretation of men : No ! How then ? — Surely according to
the interpretation of devils."

PART II. CANTO II. 157

And so b' equivocation swear ;

Or whether 't be a lesser sin

To be forsworn than act the thing, Co

Are deep and subtle points, which must,

T' inform my Conscience, be discust ;

In which to err a tittle may

To errors infinite make way :

And therefore I desire to know 65

Thy judgment ere we further go.

Quoth Ralpho, Since you do enjoin it,
I shall enlarge upon the point ;
And, for my own part, do not doubt
Th' affirmative may be made out. 70

But first, to state the case aright,
For best advantage of our light :
And thus 'tis : Whether 't be a sin
To claw and curry your own skin,
Greater or less than to forbear, 75

And that you are forsworn forswear.
But first o' th' first: The inward man,
And outward, like a clan and clan,
Have always been at daggers-drawing,
And one another clapper-clawing : so

Not that they really cuff 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

And call the foul abomination

158 HUDIBRAS.

Contritign and mortification.

Is't not enough we're bruis'd and kicked

With sinful members of the Wicked ;

Our vessels, that are sanctify'd, tjs

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 reckon'd

A heinous sin. Now to the second :

That saints may claim a dispensation

To swear and forswear on occasion,

I doubt not but it will appear 105

With pregnant light ; the point is clear.

Oaths are but words, and words but wind ;

Too feeble implements to bind ;

And hold with deeds proportion, so

As shadows to a substance do. no

Then when they strive for place, 'tis fit

The weaker vessel should submit.

Although your Church be opposite

To ours as Blackfriars 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 ; i«o

Further (I mean) than cany ing on

Some self-advantage of their own.

For if the devil, to serve his turn,

Can tell truth, why the saints should scorn.

When it serves theirs, to swear and lie, nzs

PART II. CANTO II. 159

I think there's little reason why :

Else he 'as a greater power than they

Which 'twere impiety to say.

We're not commanded to forbear,

Indefinitely, at all to swear ; iso

But to swear idly, and in vain,

Without self-interest or gain.

For breaking1 of an oath, and lying,

Is but a kind of self-denying,

A saint-like virtue ; and from hence 135

Some have broke oaths by Providence :

Some, to the Glory of the Lord,

Perjur'd themselves, and broke their word ;

And this the constant rule and practice

Of all our late apostles' acts is. 140

Was not the cause at first begun

Writh perjury, and carried on ?

Was there an oath the Godly took,

But in due time and place they broke ?

Did we not bring our oaths in first, 145

Before our plate, to have them burst,

And cast in fitter models for

The present use of Church and War ?

Did not our Worthies of the House,

136 When it was first moved in the House of Commons to
proceed capitally against the King, Cromwell stood up and
told them, " That if any man moved this with design, he
should think him the greatest traitor in the world ; but
since Providence and necessity had cast them upon it,
he should pray to God to bless their counsels." And when
he kept the king close prisoner in Carisbrook Castle, con-
trary to vows and protestations, he affirmed " The Spirit
would not let him keep his word." And when, contrary
to the public faith, thev murdered him, they pretended they
could not resist the motions of the Spirit.

160 HUDIBRAS.

Before they broke the peace, break vows ? 150

For, having freed us first from both

Th' Allegiance and Suprem'cy 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 ; ifio

And after march'd to find him out,

And charg'd him home with horse and foot ;

But yet still had the confidence

To swear it was in his defence ?

Did they not swear to live and die ifis

With Essex, and straight laid him by ?

If that were all, for some have swore

As false as they, if they did no more.

Did they not swear to maintain Law,

In which that swearing made a flaw ? 170

For Protestant religion vow,

That did that vowing disallow ?

For Privilege of Parliament,

In which that swearing made a rent ?

And since, of all the three, not one 175

Is left in being, 'tis well known.

Did they not swear, in express words,

To prop and back the House of Lords ;

And after turn'd out the whole houseful

Of Peers, as dang'rous and unuseful? IHO

So Cromwell, with deep oaths and vows,

Swore all the Commons out o' th' House ;

Vow'd that the Redcoats would disband,

PART II. CANTO II. 161

Ay, marry would they, at their command ;
And troll'd them on, and swore, and swore, 185
Till th' Army turn'd them out of door.
This tells us plainly what they thought,
That oaths and swearing go for nought,
And that by them th' were only meant
To serve for an expedient. 190

What was the Public Faith found out for,
But to slur men of what they fought for ?
The Public Faith, which ev'ry one
Is bound t' observe, yet kept by none ;
And if that go for nothing, why 195

Should Private Faith have such a tie ?
Oaths were not purpos'd, more than law,
To keep the Good and Just in awe,
But to confine the Bad and Sinful,
Like mortal cattle in a pinfold. sco

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 forg'ry 205

And false, t' affirm it is no perj'ry,
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 ei.5

Instructions, to all aims they drive at.
Then why should we ourselves abridge,
VOL. i. M

162 IIUDIBRAS.

And curtail our own privilege ?

Quakers (that, like to lanterns, bear

Their light within 'em) will not swear ; 2-20

Their Gospel is an Accidence,

By which they construe Conscience,

And hold no sin so deeply red,

As that of breaking1 Priscian's head

(The head and founder of their order, 225

That stirring hats held worse than murder).

These, thinking they're obliged to troth

In swearing, will not take an oath :

Like mules, who if they've not their will

To keep their own pace stand stock still : 2-30

But they are weak, and little know

What free-born Consciences may do.

'Tis the temptation of the devil

That makes all human actions evil :

For Saints may do the same things by 235

The Spirit, in sincerity,

Which other men are tempted to,

And at the devil's instance do ;

And yet the actions be contrary,

Just as the Saints and Wicked vary. 240

For, as on land there is no beast

But in some fish at sea 's exprest,

So in the Wicked there's no vice

Of which the Saints have not a spice ;

And yet that thing that's pious in ;i:>

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 ? 2.50

She's of the wicked, as I guess

PART II. CANTO II. 163

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, C55

No faith is to the Wicked due.

For truth is precious and divine ;

Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.

Quoth Hudibras, All this is true :
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, aftj

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, 27«

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, like an o'erbent bow :
And he that made, and forc'd it, broke it ; -:is
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 they're broken have no force. ceo

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

164 HUDIBRAS.

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 afterwards he found untoward

And stubborn to be kept, or too hard,

Any three other Jews o' th' nation 295

Might free him from the obligation :

And have not two Saints pow'r to use

A greater privilege than three Jews ?

The court of Conscience, which in man

Should be supreme and soveran, soo

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

Allow'd, at fancy of pie-powder ?

Tell all it does, or does not know,

For swearing ex qfficio ?

Be forc'd t' impeach a broken hedge,

And pigs unring'd, at vis. franc, pledge ? sio

Discover thieves, and bawds, recusants,

Priests, witches, eaves-droppers, and nuisance ?

Tell who did play at games unlawful,

And who fill'd pots of ale but half-full ?

And have no pow'r at all, nor shift, 315

To help itself at a dead lift ?

Why should not Conscience have vacation

As well as other Courts o' th' nation ;

Have equal power to adjourn,

PART II. CANTO II. 165

Appoint appearance and return ; 3-20

And make as nice distinction serve

To split a case, as those that carve,

Invoking- cuckolds' names, hit joints ?

Why should not tricks as slight do points ?

Is not th' High-court of Justice sworn 3:5

To just 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 engage 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

Conveyance play with wrong and right ;

And sell their blasts of wind as dear,

As Lapland witches bottled air ?

Will not Fear, Favour, Bribe, and Grudge, 3*5

The same case sev'ral ways adjudge ;

As seamen with the self-same gale,

W^ill several diff'rent courses sail ?

As when the sea breaks o'er its bounds,

And overflows the level grounds,

Those banks and dams, that, like a screen,

343 VAR. • Crutch.5

166 HUDIBRAS.

Did keep it out, now keep it in ;

So, when tyrannical 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'iy ev'ry man swear

What makes best for him in his answer ?

Is not the winding up witnesses,

And nicking, more than half the bus'ness ? 360

For witnesses, like watches, go

Just as they're set, too fast or slow ;

And, where in Conscience they're strait-lac'd,

Tis ten to one that side is cast.

Do not your Juries give their verdict 365

As if they felt the cause, not heard it ?

And, as they please, make matter o' fact

Run all on one side as they're packt?

Mature has made man's breast no windores,

To publish what he does within dores ; 370

Nor what dark secrets there inhabit,

Unless his own rash folly blab it.

If Oaths can do a man no good

In his own bus'ness, why they should,

In other matters, do him hurt ; 375

I think there's Jittle reason for 't.

He that imposes an Oath, makes it ;

Not he that for Convenience takes it :

Then how can any man be said

To break an Oath he never made ? sao

These reasons may perhaps look oddly

To th' Wicked, though they evince the Godly ;

But if they will not serve to clear

353 VAR. 'tyrannic.'

PART II. CANTO II. 167

My Honour, I am ne'er the near.

Honour is like that glassy bubble 385

That finds philosophers such trouble,

Whose least part craekt, the whole does fly,

And wits are craekt to find out why.

Quoth Ralpho, Honour's but a word
To swear by only in a Lord :
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, s;i5

It has the world's opinion still.
But as men are not wise that run
The slightest hazard they may shun,
There may a medium be found out
To clear to all the world the doubt ; 400

And that is, if a man may do 't,
By proxy whipt, or substitute.

Though nice and dark the point appear
(Quoth Ralph), it may hold up and clear.
That Sinners may supply the place 405

Of suff 'ring Saints, is a plain case.
Justice gives sentence many times
On one man for another's crimes.
Our Brethren of New England use
Choice Malefactors to excuse, 4io

And hand the Guiltless in their stead,
Of whom the Churches have less need ;
As lately 't happen'd : In a town
There 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

168 HUDIBRAS.

In times of peace an Indian,

Not out of malice, but mere zeal

(Because he was an Infidel), «o

The mighty Tottipottymoy

Sent to our Elders an Envoy,

Complaining sorely of the breach

Of league, held forth by Brother Patch,

Against the articles in force 425

Between both Churches, his and ours ;

For which he crav'd the Saints to render

Into his hands, or hang, th' offender.

But they, maturely having weigh'd

They had no more but him o' th' trade 430

(A man that serv'd them in a double

Capacity, to teach and cobble),

Resolv'd to spare him ; yet, to do

The Indian Hoghan Moghan 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 ?

For all philosophers, but the Sceptic,

Hold whipping may be sympathetic. 440

It is enough, quoth Hudibras,
Thou hast resolv'd and clear'd the case ;
And canst, in Conscience, not refuse
From thy own Doctrine to raise Use :
I know thou wilt not (for my sake) 445

Be tender-conscienc'd of thy back :
Then strip thee of thy carnal jerkin,
And give thy outward-fellow a ferking ;
For when thy vessel is new hoop'd,
All leaks of sinning will be stopp'd. -150

Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ;

PART II. CANTO II. 169

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

Besides, it is not only foppish,

But vile, idolatrous, and Popish,

For one man out of his own skin

To firk and whip another's sin ;

As pedants out of schoolboys' breeches 465

Do claw and curry their own itches.

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, That's answer'd soon ;
Give us the whip, we'll lay it on.

Quoth Ralpho, That we may swear true,
Twere properer that I whipp'd you ;
For when with your consent 'tis done, 475

The act is really your own.

Quoth Hudibras, It is in vain
(I see) to argue 'gainst the grain ;
Or, like the stars, incline men to
What they 're averse themselves to do : 430

For when disputes are weary'd out,
'Tis int'rest 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

170 IIUDIBRAS.

As, ere we part, I shall evince it ;

And curry (if you stand out), whether

You Avill 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' int'rest of the Churches ?

And when he has it in his claws 495

Will not be hide-bound to the Cause ;

Nor shalt thou find him a curmudgin

If thou dispatch it without grudging :

If not, resolve, before we go,

That you and I must pull a crow. 500

Y' had best (quoth Ralpho), as the Ancients
Say wisely, Have a care o' th' main chance,
And Look before you ere you leap ;

Far As you sow, y' are like to reap :

And were y' as good as George-a-Green, 505

I should make bold to turn agen ;

Nor am I doubtful of the issue

In a just quarrel, and mine is so.

Is 't fitting for a man of honour

To whip the Saints, like Bishop Bonner? 510

A Knight t' usurp the Beadle's office,

For which y' are like to raise brave trophies ?

But I advise you (not for fear,

But for your own sake) to forbear ;

And for the Churches, which may chance sis

From hence to spring a variance,

And raise among themselves new scruples,

Whom common danger hardly couples.

Remember how in arms and politics

PART II. CANTO II. 171

We still have worsted all your holy tricks ; 520

Trepann'd your party with intrigue,

And took your Grandees down a peg ;

New-modell'd th' army, and cashier'd

All that to Legion Smec adher'd ;

Made a mere utensil o' your Church, 5:3

And after left it in the lurch,

A scaffold to build up our own,

And when w' had done with 't puITd it down ;

Capoch'd your Rabbins of the Synod,

And snapp'd their Canons with a Why-not 550

(Grave Synod-men, that were rever'd

For solid face and depth of beard) ;

Their Classic model prov'd a maggot,

Their Direct'ry an Indian pagod ;

And drown'd their Discipline like a kitten, 535

On which th' had 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 with ire,
Like ashes first, then red as fire.
Have I (quoth he) been ta'en in fight, 545

And for so many moons lain by 't,
And when all other means did fail
Have been exchang'd for tubs of ale
(Not but they thought me worth a ransom
Much more consid'rable and handsome, 550

i29 VAR. ' O'er-reach'd.' ' Capoch'd' signifies hooded, or
blindfolded.

172

HUDIBRAS.

But for their own sakes, and for fear

They were not safe when I was there),

Now to be baffled by a scoundrel,

An upstart Sect'ry and a Mongrel,

Such as breed out of peccant humours 555

Of our own Church, like wens or tumours,

And, like a mag-got 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, prepar'd

To draw and stand upon his guard :

When both were parted on the sudden 565

With hideous clamour and a loud one,

As if all sorts of noise had been

Contracted into one loud din ;

Or that some member to be chosen

Had got the odds above a thousand, 570

And by the greatness of 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 : SRO%

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.

PART II. CANTO II. 173

And now the cause of all their fear 585

By slow degrees approach'd so near

They might distinguish diff'rent noise

Of horns, and pans, and dogs, and boys,

And kettle-drums, whose sullen dub

Sounds like the hooping of a tub. syo

But when the sight appear'd in view,

They found it was an antique shew ;

A triumph that for pomp and state

Did proudest Roman's 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 troll'd and ballads,

Did ride with many a Good-morrow,

Crying, Hey for our town ! through the Borough ;

So when this triumph drew so nigh 605

They might particulars descry,

They never saw two things so pat

In all respects as this and that.

First, he that led the cavalcate

Wore a sow-gelder's flagellate, 610

On which he blew as strong a levet

As well- feed lawyer on his brev'ate

When over one another's heads

They charge (three ranks at once) like Sweads.

587 VAR. ' They might discern respective noise.'

596 VAR. ' For foes.'

609 6io VAR. < cavalcade,' « flagellet.'

614 VAR. « Swedes.'

174 HUDIBRAS.

Next pans and kettles of all keys, 615

From trebles down to double base ;

And after them, upon a nag

That might pass for a forehand stag-,

A cornet rode, and on his staff

A smock display'd did proudly wave : 620

Then bag-pipes 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 6cs

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, mix'd with grains,

Which he dispens'd among the swains, 6:?o

And busily upon the crowd

At random round about bestow'd.

Then, mounted on a horned horse,

One bore a gauntlet and gilt spurs,

Ty'd to the pummel of a long sword oss

He held revers'd, the point turn'd downward.

Next after, on a raw-bon'd steed,

The conqu'ror's Standard-bearer rid,

And bore aloft before the champion

A petticoat display'd, and rampant ; 6*0

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, iHr,

Which as he rode she made him twist off ;

And when he loiter'd, o'er her shoulder

Chastis'd the reformado soldier.

PART II. CANTO II. 175

Before the Dame and round about

March'd whifflers and staffiers on foot, 650

With lacquies, 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 clanTrous shout.

The Knight transported, and the Squire,

Put up their weapons and their ire ; &\-

And Hudibras, who us'd to ponder

On such sights with judicious wonder,

Could hold no longer to impart

His an'madversions, for his heart.

Quoth he, In all my life till now 655

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 Caelius Rhodogine, 170

With all the Grecian Speeds and Stows
That best describe those ancient shows,
And has observ'd all fit decorums
We find describ'd by old historians.
For as the Roman conqueror 575

That put an end to foreign war,
Ent'ring the town in triumph for it,
Bore a slave with him in his chariot ;
So this insulting female brave
Carries behind her here a slave : tjgo

And as the Ancients long ago,
When they in field defy'd the foe,

176 IIUDIBRAS. "

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 triumph eggs

Were borne for mystical intrigues, 600

There 's one in truncheon, like a ladle,

That carries eggs too, fresh or addle ;

And still at random as he goes

Among the rabble-rout bestows.

Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ; 695
For all th' antiquity you smatter
Is but a riding us'd of course
When The grey mare 's the better horse ;
When o'er the breeches greedy women
Fight to extend their vast dominion,
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, 71:5

And ride their husbands, like night-mares,
And they in mortal battle vanquish'd
Are of their charter disenfranchis'd,
And by the right of war, like gills,
Condemn 'd to distaff, horns, and wheels : 710

For when men by their wives are cow'd,
Their horns of course are understood.

Quoth Hudibras, Thou still giv'st sentence
Impertinently, and against sense :
'Tis not the least disparagement 715

To be defeated by th' event,

PART II. CANTO II. 177

Nor to be beaten by main force ;
That does not make a man the worse,
Although his shoulders with batfcoon
Be claw'd and cudgel'd to some tune. ?cv>

A tailor's prentice has no hard
Measure that's bang'd with a true yard ;
But to turn tail or run away,
And without blows give up the day,
Or to surrender ere th' assault, 7C5

That 's no man's fortune, but his fault ;
And renders men of honour less
Than all th' adversity of success :
And only unto such this shew
Of horns and petticoats is due. 730

There is a lesser profanation,
Like that the Romans call'd Ovation :
For as ovation was allow 'd
For conquest purchas'd without blood,
So men decree those lesser shows 735

For vict'ry 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 Cuckling-stool, 740

March proudly to the river side,
And o'er the waves in triumph ride ;
Like dukes of Venice, who are sed
The 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 ; 75i>

VOL. i. N

178 HUD1BRAS.

And we as such should now contribute
Our utmost smugglings to prohibit.

This said, they both advanc'd, and rode
A dog-trot through the bawling crowd
T attack the leader, and still prest ?;>3

Till they approach'd him breast to breast.
Then Hudibras with face and hand
Made signs for silence ; which obtain'd :
What means (quoth he) this devil's procession
With men of orthodox profession ? 760

Tis ethnique and idolatrous,
From Heathenism deriv'd to us.
Does not the Whore of Bab'lon ride
Upon her horned Beast astride
Like this proud Dame, who either is 7^5

A type of her, or she of this ?
Are things of superstitious function
Fit to be us'd in Gospel sunshine ?
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 'ad all been lost else ;

775 The women were zealous contributors to the Good
Cause, as they called it. Mr. James How el observes,
" That unusual voluntary collections were made both in
town and country ; the seamstress brought in her silver
thimble, the chambermaid her bodkin, the cook her silver
spoon, into the common treasury of war. — And some sort ol
females were freer in their contributions, so far as to part
with their rings and earrings, as if some golden culf weiv
to be molten and set up to be idolized."

PART II. CANTO II. 179

Women, that left no stone unturn'd

In which the Cause might be concern'd ;

Brought in their children's spoons and whistles

To purchase swords, carbines, and pistols ; TSO

Their husbands' cullies and sweethearts,

To take the Saints' and Churches' parts ;

Drew several Gifted Brethren in,

That for the Bishops would have been,

And fix'd rem constant to the party 785

With motives powerful and hearty •

Their husbands robb'd, and made hard shifts

T' administer unto their Gifts

All they 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 forth for Parl'ament ;

Pamper'd and edify'd their zeal

With marrow puddings many a meal ;

Enabled them, with store of meat, ;y5

On controverted points to eat ;

And cramm'd 'em till their guts did ake

With caudle, custard, and plum-cake.

What have they done or what left undone

That might advance the Cause at London ? two

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 sos

Labour'd like pioneers in trenches,

Fall'n to their pickaxes and tools,

And help'd the men to dig like moles.

807 VAR. ' Fell.'

180 HUDIBRAS.

Have not the handmaids of the City

Chose of their Members a Committee, BIO

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 BIS

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. sco

Then he that on the panniers rode

Let fly on th' other side a load,

And, quickly charg'd again, gave fully

In Ralpho's face another volley.

The Knight was startled with the smell, scs

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 ; sso

And straight another with his flambeau

Gave Ralpho o'er the eyes a damn'd blow.

The beasts began to kick and fling,

And forc'd the rout to make a ring;

813 814 « The House considered, in the next place, that
divers weak persons have crept into places beyond their
abilities ; and, to the end that men of greater parts may be
put into their rooms, they appointed the Lady Middlesex,
Mrs. Dunch, the Lady Foster, and the Lady Anne Waller,
by reason of their great experience in soldiery in the king-
dom, to be a Committee of Triers for the business." See
" The Parliament of Ladies," p. 6.

PART II. CANTO II. 181

Through which they quickly broke their way, 835

And brought them off from further fray.

And though disorder'd in retreat,

Each of them stoutly kept his seat :

For quitting both their swords and reins,

They grasp'd with all their strength the manes,

And, to avoid the foe's pursuit,

With spurring put their cattle to 't ;

And till all four were out of wind,

And danger too, ne'er look'd behind.

After they 'ad paus'd a while, supplying 3*5

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 being maintain'd.
'Twas ill for us we had to do
With so dishon'rable 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 noisom
Their case-shot savour strong of poison,
And doubtless have been chew'd with teeth
Of some that had a stinking breath ; g<5o

Else when we put it to the push,
They had not giv'n us such a brush.
But as those pultroons that fling dirt
Do but defile but cannot hurt ;
So all the honour they have won, 065

Or we have lost, is much at one.

839 VAR. 'Rains.'

182 HUDIBRAS. ,

Twas well we made so resolute
A brave retreat without pursuit,
For if we had not we had sped
Much worse, to be in triumph led ; 8?o

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, being destin'd to assert a? 5

Her sex's honour, reach her heart :
And as such homely treats (they say)
Portend good fortune, so this may.
Vespasian being daub'd with dirt
Was destin'd to the empire for 't ; sso

And from a scavenger did come
To be a mighty prince in Rome :
And why may not this foul address
Presage in love the same success ?
Then let us straight, to cleanse our wounds, 885
Advance in quest of nearest ponds ;
And after (as we first design'd)
Swear I've perform'd what she enjoin'd.

868 VAB. ' T' avoid pursuit.'

PART II. CANTO III. 183

PART II. CANTO III.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Knight, with various doubts possest,

To win the Lady goes in quest

Of Sidrophel the Rosycrucian,

To know the Dest'nies' resolution :

\Vith whom b'ing met, they both chop logic

About the science astrologic ;

Till, falling from dispute to fight,

The Conj'rer's worsted by the Knight.

DOUBTLESS the pleasure is as great

Of being cheated, as to cheat ;

As lookers-on feel most delight

That least perceive a juggler's sleight,

And still, the less they understand,

The more they' admire his sleight of hand.

Some with a noise and greasy light
Are'snapt, as men catch larks by night,
Ensnar'd and hamper'd by the soul,
As nooses by the legs catch fowl.
Some with a med'cine and receipt
Are drawn to nibble at the bait ;
And though it be a two-foot trout,
'Tis with a single hair pull'd out.

Others believe no voice t' an organ
So sweet as lawyer's in his bar-gown,
Until with subtle cobweb-cheats
They're catch'd in knotted law like nets :
In which, when once they are imbrangled,

184 HUD1BRAS.

The more they stir the more they're tangled ; 20
And while their purses can dispute,
There's no end of th' immortal suit.

Others still gape t' anticipate
The cabinet-designs of Fate,
Apply to wizards to foresee 25

What shall and what shall never be ;
And, as those vultures do forebode,
Believe events prove bad or good :
A flam more senseless than the roguery
Of old auruspicy and aug'ry, so

That out of garbages of cattle
Presag'd th' events of truce or battle ;
From flight of birds, or chickens' pecking,
Success of great'st attempts would reckon :
Though cheats, yet more intelligible 35

Than those that with the stars do fribble.
This Hudibras by proof found true,
As in due time and place we'll shew :
For he, with beard and face made clean,
Being 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,
T' acquit himself and pay his vows :
When various thoughts began to bustle, 4:>

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,
It might at once the ruin prove

25 VAR. ' Run after wizards/

PART II. CANTO III. 185

Both of his honour, faith, and love.

But if he should forbear to go,

She might conclude he 'ad broke his vow ;

And that he durst not now for shame 55

Appear in court to try his claim :

This was the penn' worth of his thought,

To pass time, and uneasy trot.

Quoth he, In all my past adventures
I ne'er was set so on the tenters, 60

Or taken tardy with dilemma
That ev'ry way I turn does hem me,
And with inextricable doubt
Besets my puzzled wits about :
For though the Dame has been my bail, 65

To free me from enchanted jail,
Yet as a dog, committed close
For some offence, by chance breaks loose,
And quits his clog ; but all in vain,
He still draws after him his chain : 70

So, though my ankle she has quitted,
My heart continues still committed ;
And, like a bail'd and mainpriz'd lover,
Although 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 ; so

Or if she put me to strict proof,
And make me pull my doublet off
To shew, by evident record
Writ on my skin, I've kept my word,
How can I e'er expect to have her, 85

186 HUDIBRAS.

Having demurr'd 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 I'm to prove by argument, 90

And justify I have a tail,

And that way too my proof may fail.

Oh, that I could enucleate,

And solve the problems of my fate !

Or find by necromantic art 95

How far the Dest'nies take my part !

For if I were not more than certain

To win and wear her and her fortune,

I'd go no farther in this courtship,

To hazard soul, estate, and Worship : no

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,
That deals in Destiny's dark counsels,
And sage opinions of the Moon sells ;
To whom all people, far and near,
On deep importances repair: no

When brass and pewter hap to stray,
And linen slinks out o' the way ;
When geese and pullen are seduc'd,
And sows of sucking pigs are chous'd ;
When cattle feel indisposition, n:.

106 William Lilly, the famous astrologer of those times,
who in his yearly almanacks foretold victories for tliH
Parliament with as much certainty as the preachers did in
their sermons.

PART II. CANTO III. 187

And need th' opinion of physician ;

When murrain reigns in hogs or sheep,

And chickens languish of the pip ;

When yest and outward means do fail,

And have no pow'r to work on ale ; 120

When butter does refuse to come,

And love proves cross and humoursome ;

To him with questions, and with urine,

They for discov'ry flock, or curing.

Quoth Hudibras, This Sidrophel iss

I've heard of, and should like it well,
If thou canst prove the Saints have freedom
To go to sorc'rers when they need 'em.

Says Ralpho, There 's no doubt of that ;
Those principles I quoted late 130

Prove that the Godly may allege
For any thing their privilege,
And to the dev'l himself may go
If they have motives thereunto :
For, as there is a war between 135

The dev'l and them, it is no sin
If they by subtle stratagem
Make use of him, as he does them.
Has not this present Parl'ament
A ledger to the devil sent, MO

Fully empower'd to treat about
Finding revolted witches out ?
And has not he, within a year,
Hang'd threescore of 'em in one shire ?
Some only for not being drown'd, 145

And some for sitting above ground,
Whole days and nights, upon their breeches,
And feeling pain, were hang'd for witches ;
And some for putting knavish tricks

188

HUDIBRAS.

Upon green geese and turkey-chicks, 150

Or pigs that suddenly deceast

Of griefs unnat'ral, as he guest ;

Who after prov'd himself a witch,

And made a rod for his own breech.

Did not the dev'l appear to Martin 155

Luther in Germany, for certain ?

And would have gull'd him with a trick,

But Mart, was too, too politic.

Did he not help the Dutch to purge,

At Antwerp, their cathedral church ? 160

Sing catches to the Saints at Mascon,

And tell them all they came to ask him ?

Appear in divers shapes to Kelly,

And speak i' th' Nun of Loudon's belly?

Meet with the Parl'ament's Committee, 165

At Woodstock, on a pers'nal treaty ?

At Sarum take a cavalier,

I' th' Cause's service, prisoner ?

As Withers in immortal rhyme

Has register'd to aftertime. 170

Do not our great Reformers use

This Sidrophel to forebode news ;

To write of victories next year,

And castles taken, yet i' th' air ?

Of battles fought at sea, and ships 175

Sunk two years hence the last eclipse ?

A total o'erthrow giv'n the King

In Cornwall, horse and foot, next Spring ?

And has not he point-blank foretold

Whats'e'er the Close Committee would ? iso

169 This Withers was a Puritanical officer in the Parlia-
ment army, and a great pretender to poetry, as appears from
his poems enumerated by A. Wood.

• PART II. CANTO III. 189

Made Mars and Saturn for the Cause ?

The Moon for fundamental laws ?

The Ram, the Bull, and Goat, declare

Against the Book of Common Pray'r ?

The Scorpion take the Protestation, 185

And Bear engage for Reformation ?

Made all the Royal stars recant,

Compound, and take the Covenant ?

Quoth Hudibras, The case is clear.
The Saints may 'mploy a conjurer, iyo

As thou hast prov'd it by their practice :
No argument like matter of fact is ;
And we are best of all led to
Men's principles by what they do.
Then let us straight advance in quest iys

Of this profound gymnosophist,
And5 as the Fates and he advise,
Pursue or wave this enterprise.
This said, he turn'd about his steed,
And eftsoons on th* adventure rid; 2.0

Where leave we him and Ralph a while,
And to the conj'rer turn our style,
To let our reader understand
What's useful of him beforehand.
He had been long t' wards mathematics, 205

Optics, philosophy, and statics,
Magic, horoscopy, astrology,
And was old dog at physiology ;
But as a dog that turns the spit
Bestirs himself, and plies his feet 210

To climb the wheel, but all in vain,
His own weight brings him down again,
And still he's in the self-same place
Where at his setting out he was ;

190

HUDIBRAS.

So in the circle of the arts 215

Did he advance his nat'ral parts,

Till falling1 back still, for retreat,

He fell to juggle, cant, and cheat.

For as those fowls that live in water

Are never wet, he did but smatter ; 220

Whate'er he labour'd to appear,

His understanding still was clear ;

Yet none a deeper knowledge boasted,

Since old Hodge Bacon, and Bob Grosted.

Th' intelligible world he knew, 225

And all men dream on't to be true,

That in this world there's not a wart

That has not there a counterpart ;

Nor can there on the face of ground

An individual beard be found £.30

That has not in that foreign nation

A fellow of the self-same fashion ;

So cut, so colour'd, and so curl'd,

As those are in th' inferior world.

224 Roger Bacon, commonly called ' Friar Bacon,' lived
in the reign of our Edward I. and, for some little skill he
had in the mathematics, was by the rabble accounted a
conjurer, and had the sottish story of the Brazen Head
fathered upon him by the ignorant Monks of those days.

Ib. Bishop Grosted was Bishop of Lincoln, 20th Henry
III. A. D. 1235. " He was suspected by the clergy to be
a conjurer ; for which crime he was deprived by Pope In-
nocent IV. and summoned to appear at Rome." But this
is a mistake ; for the Pope's antipathy to him was occa-
sioned by his frankly expostulating with him (both per-
sonally and by letter) on his encroachments upon the Eng-
lish church and monarchy. He was persecuted by Pope
Innocent, but it is not certain that he was deprived, though
Bale thinks he was.

PART II. CANTO III. 191

He 'ad read Dee's prefaces before 235

The Dev'l, and Euclid, o'er and o'er ;

And all th' intrigues 'twixt him and Kelly,

Lascus and th' Emperor, would tell ye :

But with the moon was more familiar

Than e'er was almanack well-wilier ; 240

Her secrets understood so clear,

That some believ'd he had been there ;

Knew when she was in fittest mood

For cutting corns or letting blood ;

When for anointing scabs or itches, c*5

Or to the bum applying leeches ;

When sows and bitches may be spay'd,

And in what sign best cyder 's made ;

Whether the wane be, or increase,

Best to set garlic or sow pease ; cso

Who first found out the man i' th' moon,

That to the Ancients was unknown ;

How many Dukes, and Earls, and Peers,

Are in the planetary spheres ;

Their airy empire, and command ; 255

Their sev'ral strengths by sea and land ;

What factions they 've, and what they drive at

In public vogue, or what in private ;

W^ith what designs and interests

Each party manages contests. 260

He made an instrument to know

If the moon shine at full or no ;

That would, as soon as e'er she shone, straight

235 Dee was a Welshman, and educated at Oxford, where
he commenced Doctor, and afterwards travelled into foreign
parts in quest of chemistry, &c.

38 Albertus Lascus, Lasky, or Alasco, Prince Palatine
of Poland, concerned with Dee and Kellv.

192 HUDIBRAS.

Whether 'twere day or night demonstrate ;

Tell what her d'ameter to an inch is, 205

And prove that she's not made of green cheese.

It would demonstrate that the man in

The moon's a sea Mediterranean ;

And that it is no dog- nor bitch

That stands behind him at his breech, 170

But a huge Caspian sea or lake,

With arms, which men for legs mistake ;

How large a gulf his tail composes,

And what a goodly bay his nose is ;

How many German leagues by th' scale 275

Cape Snout 's from Promontory Tail.

He made a planetary gin,

Which rats would run their own heads in,

And come on purpose to be taken,

Without th' expense of cheese or bacon. use

With lutestrings he would counterfeit

Maggots that crawl on dish of meat ;

Quote moles and spots on any place

O' th' body, by the index face ;

Detect lost maidenheads by sneezing, 28.5

Or breaking wind of dames, or pissing ;

Cure warts and corns with application

Of med'cines to th' imagination ;

Fright agues into dogs, and scare

With rhymes the toothach and catarrh ; ?oo

Chase evil spirits away by dint

Of sickle, horse-shoe, hollow flint;

Spit fire out of a walnut-shell,

Which made the Roman slaves rebel ;

And fire a mine in China here sys

With sympathetic gunpowder.

He knew whats'ever 's to be known,

PART II. CANTO III. 193

But much more than he knew would own.

What med'cine 'twas that Paracelsus

Could make a man with, as he tells us ; soo

What figur'd slates are best to make

On wat'ry surface duck or drake ;

What bowling-stones, in running race

Upon a board, have swiftest pace ;

Whether a pulse beat in the black 305

List of a dappled louse's back ;

If systole or diastole move

Quickest when he's in wrath, or love ;

When two of them do run a race,

Whether they gallop, trot, or pace ; 310

How many scores a flea will jump

Of his own length from head to rump,

Which Socrates and Chserephon

In vain assay 'd so long agone ;

WThether his snout a perfect nose is, 315

And not an elephant's proboscis ;

How many diff'rent specieses

Of maggots breed in rotten cheese ;

And which are next of kin to those

Engender'd in a chandler's nose ; sco

Or those not seen, but understood,

That live in vinegar and wood.

A paltry wretch he had, half-starv'd,
That him in place of zany serv'd,
Hight Whachum, bred to dash and draw, 335

325 i Whachum,' journeyman to Sidrophel, who was one
' Tom Jones,' a foolish Welshman. In a key to a poem of
Mr. Butler's, Whachum is said to be one ' Richard Green,'
who published a pamphlet of about five sheets of base
ribaldry, and called ' Hudibras in a snare.' It was printed
about the year 1667.

VOL. I. O

194 IIUDIBRAS.

Not wine, but more unwholesome law ;

To make 'twixt words and lines huge gaps,

Wide as meridians in maps ;

To squander paper and spare ink,

Or cheat men of their words, some think. s?o

From this, by merited degrees,

He'd to more high advancement rise,

To be an under conjurer,

Or journeyman astrologer :

His business was to pump and wheedle, 335

And men with their own keys unriddle ;

To make them to themselves give answers,

For which they pay the necromancers ;

To fetch and carry' intelligence

Of whom, and what, and where, and whence, 340

And all discoveries disperse

Among th' whole pack of conjurers ;

What cut-purses have left with them

For the right owners to redeem,

And what they dare not vent, find out, -HS

To gain themselves and th' art repute ;

Draw figures, schemes, and horoscopes,

Of Newgate, Bridewell, brokers' shops,

Of thieves ascendant in the cart,

And find out all by rules of art : 350

Which way a serving-man, that's run

With clothes or money away, is gone ;

Who pick'd a fob at Holding-forth,

And where a watch for half the worth

May be redeem'd ; or stolen plate 355

Restor'd at conscionable rate.

Beside all this he serv'd his master

In quality of poetaster,

And rhymes appropriate could make

PART II. CANTO III. 195

To ev'ry month i' th' almanack ;

When terms begin and end could tell,

With their returns, in doggerel ;

When the Exchequer opes and shuts,

And sow-gelder with safety cuts ;

When men may eat and drink their fill, 365

And when be temp'rate if they will ;

When use, and when abstain from, vice,

Figs, grapes, phlebotomy, and spice.

And as in prison mean rogues beat

Hemp for the service of the great, 370

So Whachum beat his dirty brains

T advance his master's fame and gains ;

And, like the devil's oracles,

Put into dogg'rel rhymes his spells,

Which, over ev'ry month's blank page 375

I' th' almanack, strange bilks presage.

He would an elegy compose

On maggots squeez'd out of his nose ;

In lyric numbers write an ode on

His mistress eating a black pudden ; ssu

And when imprison'd air escap'd her,

It puft him with poetic rapture :

His sonnets charm'd th' attentive crowd,

By wide-mouth'd mortal troll'd aloud,

That, circled with his long-ear 'd guests, 3^5

Like Orpheus look'd among the beasts :

A carman's horse could not pass by,

But stood ty'd up to poetry ;

No porter's burthen pass'd along,

But serv'd for burthen to his song : 3^

Each window like a pill'ry appears,

With heads thrust through, nail'd by the ears ;

All trades run in as to the sight

196 HUDIBRAS.

Of monsters, or their dear delight

The gallow-tree, when cutting purse 395

Breeds bus'ness for heroic verse,

Which none does hear but would have hung

T have been the theme of such a song.

Those two together long had liv'd
In mansion prudently contriv'd, 400

Where neither tree nor house could bar
The free detection of a star ;
And nigh an ancient obelisk
Was rais'd by him, found out by Fisk,
On which was written, not in words, 405

But hieroglyphic mute of birds,
Many rare pithy saws concerning
The worth of astrologic learning :
From top of this there hung a rope,
To which he fasten'd telescope, 410

The spectacles with which the stars
He reads in smallest characters.
It happen'd as a boy one night
Did fly his tarsel of a kite,

The strangest long-wing'd hawk that flies, 4i.r>
That, like a bird of Paradise,
Or herald's martlet, has no legs,
Nor hatches young ones, nor lays eggs ;
His train was six yards Jong, milk-white,
At th' end of which there hung a light, 4jo

404 Mr. Butler alludes to one ' Fisk,' of whom Lilly ob-
serves, that he was a licentiate in physic, and born near
Framlingham in Suffolk ; was bred at a country-school, and
designed for the university, but went not thither, studying;
physic and astrology at home, which afterwards he prac-
tised at Colchester ; after which he came to London, and
practised there.

PART II. CANTO III. 197

Enclos'd in lantern made of paper,

That far off like a star did appear :

This Sidrophel by chance espy'd,

And, with amazement staring- wide,

Bless us ! quoth he, what dreadful wonder 4-25

Is that appears in heaven yonder ?

A comet, and without a beard !

Or star that ne'er before appear'd ?

I'm certain 'tis not in the scrowl

Of all those beasts, and fish, and fowl, 4*>

With which, like Indian plantations,

The learned stock the constellations ;

Nor those that drawn for signs have bin

To th' houses where the planets inn.

It must be supernatural, 435

Unless it be that cannon-ball

That, shot i' th' air point-blank upright,

Was borne to that prodigious height

That learn'd philosophers maintain,

It ne'er came backwards down again, 4K>

But in the airy region yet

Hangs, like the body of Mahomet :

For if it be above the shade

That by the earth's round bulk is made,

'Tis probable it may from far 4.5

Appear no bullet, but a star.

This said, he to his engine flew,
Plac'd near at hand, in open view,
And rais'd it till it levell'd right
Against the glow-worm tail of kite, too

Then peeping through, Bless us ! (quoth he)
It is a planet now, I see ;
And, if I err not, by his proper
Figure, that's like tobacco-stopper,

198

HUDIERAS.

It should be Saturn : yes, 'tis clear 455

'Tis Saturn, but what makes him there ?

He's got between the Dragon's tail

And farther leg behind o' th' Whale ;

Pray Heav'n divert the fatal omen,

For 'tis a prodigy not common, 460

And can no less than the world's end,

Or Nature's funeral, portend.

With that he fell again to pry

Through perspective more wistfully,

When, by mischance, the fatal string, 4(55

That kept the tow'ring fowl on wing,

Breaking, down fell the star. Well shot,

Quoth Whachum, who right wisely thought

He 'ad levell'd at a star, and hit it ;

But Sidrophel, more subtil-witted, 470

Cry'd out, What horrible and fearful

Portent is this, to see a star fall !

It threatens Nature, and the doom

Will not be long before it come !

When stars do fall, 'tis plain enough 475

The day of judgment 's not far off ;

As lately 'twas reveal'd to Sedgwick,

477 William Sedgwick, a whimsical enthusiast, sometimes
a Preshyterian, sometimes an Independent, and at other
times an Anabaptist ; sometimes a prophet, and pretended
to foretell things, out of the pulpit, to the destruction of
ignorant people ; at other times pretended to revelations ;
and, upon pretence of a vision that Doomsday was at hand,
he retired to the house of Sir Francis Russel, in Cambridge-
shire ; and finding several gentlemen at bowls, called upon
them to prepare for their dissolution ; telling them that he
had lately received a revelation that Doomsday would be
some day the week following. Upon which they ever after
called him ' Doomsday Sedgwick.'

PART II. CANTO III. 199

And some of us find out by magic :

Then since the time we have to live

In this world's shorten'd, let us strive 430

To make our best advantage of it,

And pay our losses with our profit.

This feat fell out not long before
The Knight, upon the forenam'd score,
In quest of Sidrophel advancing, 485

Was now in prospect of the mansion ;
Whom he discov'ring, turn'd his glass,
And found far off 'twas Hudibras.

Whachum (quoth he), look yonder, some
To try or use our art are come : 490

The one 's the learned Knight ; seek out,
And pump 'em what they come about,
Whachum advanc'd with all submiss'ness
T' accost 'em, but much more their bus'ness :
He held a stirrup, while the Knight 493

From leathern Bare-bones did alight ;
And taking from his hand the bridle,
Approach'd, the dark Squire to unriddle.
He gave him first the time o' the day,
And welcom'd him as he might say : 500

He ask'd him whence they came, and whither
Their bus'ness lay ? — Quoth Ralpho, Hither. —
Did you not lose — Quoth Ralpho, Nay —
Quoth Whachum, Sir, I meant your way.
Your knight — Quoth Ralpho, is a lover, 505

And pains intol'rable doth suffer ;
For lovers' hearts are not their own hearts,
Nor lights, nor lungs, and so forth downwards. —
What time — Quoth Ralpho, Sir, too long ;
Three years it off and on has hung. — 510

Quoth he, I meant what time o' th* day 'tis. —

200

HUDIBRAS.

Quoth Ralpho, Between seven and eight 'tis. —

Why then (quoth Whachum) my small art

Tells me the dame has a hard heart,

Or great estate. — Quoth Ralph, A jointer, sis

Whicli makes him have so hot a mind t' her. —

Meanwhile the Knight was making- water,

Before he fell upon the matter ;

Which having done, the Wizard steps in,

To give him suitable reception ; 520

But kept his bus'ness at a bay,

Till Whachum put him in the way ;

Who having now, by Ralpho's light,

Expounded th' errand of the Knight,

And what he came to know, drew near, 525

To whisper in the conj'rer's ear,

Which he prevented thus : what was 't,

Quoth he, that I was saying last/

Before these gentlemen arriv'd ?

Quoth Whachum, Venus you retriev'd, 530

In opposition with Mars,

And no benign and friendly stars

T' allay the effect. Quoth Wizard, So !

In Virgo ? Ha ! quoth Whachum, No.

Has Saturn nothing to do in it ? 535

One tenth of 's circle to a minute.

'Tis well, quoth he. — Sir, you'll excuse

This rudeness I am forc'd to use ;

It is a scheme and face of heaven,

As th' aspects are dispos'd this even, 54<>

I was contemplating upon

When you arriv'd ; but now I've done.

Quoth Hudibras, If I appear
Unseasonable in coming here
At such a time, to interrupt 5*5

PART II. CANTO III. 201

Your speculations, which I hop'd
Assistance from, and come to use,
Tis fit that I ask your excuse.

By no means, Sir, quoth Sidrophel,
The stars your coming did foretell ; 550

I did expect you here, and knew,
Before you spake, your bus'ness too.

Quoth Hudibras, Make that appear,
And I shall credit whatsoe'er
You tell me after, on your word, 555

Howe'er unlikely or absurd.

You are in love, Sir, with a widow,
Quoth he, that does not greatly heed you,
And for three years has rid your wit
And passion without drawing bit ; 560

A nd now your bus'ness is to know
If you shall carry her or no.

Quoth Hudibras, You're in the right,
But how the devil you come by 't
I can't imagine ; for the stars 565

I 'm sure can tell no more than a horse *
Nor can their aspects (though you pore
Your eyes out on them) tell you more
Than th' oracle of sieve and sheers
That turns as certain as the spheres : 570

But if the devil *s of your counsel
Much may be done, my noble Donzel ;
And 'tis on his account I come,
To know from you my fatal doom.

Quoth Sidrophel, If you suppose, 575

Sir Knight, that I am one of those,
I might suspect, and take th' alarm,
Your bus'ness is but to inform ;
But if it be, 'tis ne'er the near,

202 HUDIBRAS.

You have a wrong sow by the ear ; seo

For I assure you, for my part,

I only deal by rules of art,

Such as are lawful, and judge by

Conclusions of astrology ;

But for the devil know nothing by him, 585

But only this, that I defy him.

Quoth he, Whatever others deem ye,
I understand your metonymy ;
Your words of second-hand intention,
When things by wrongful names you mention ;
The mystic sense of all your terms,
That are indeed but magic charms
To raise the devil, and mean one thing,
And that is downright conjuring ;
And in itself more warrantable 595

Than cheat, or canting to a rabble,
Or putting tricks upon the moon,
Which by confed'racy are done.
Your ancient conjurers were wont
To make her from her sphere dismount, 600

And to their incantations stoop ;
They scorn'd to pore through telescope,
Or idly play at bo-peep with her,
To find out cloudy or fair weather,
Which ev'ry almanack can tell 6os

Perhaps as learnedly and well
As you yourself. Then, friend, I doubt
You go the farthest way about.
Your modern Indian magician
Makes but a hole in th' earth to piss in, 610

And straight resolves all questions by 't,
And seldom fails to be i' th' right.
The Rosycrucian way '& more sure

PART II. CANTO III. 203

To bring the devil to the lure ;

Each of 'em has a sev'ral gin 615

To catch intelligences in.

Some by the nose with fumes trepan 'em,

As Dunstan did the devil's grannam ;

Others with characters and words

Catch 'em, as men in nets do birds ; feo

And some with symbols, signs, and tricks,

Engrav'd in planetary nicks,

With their own influences will fetch 'em

Down from their orbs, arrest, and catch 'em :

Make 'em depose and answer to 625

All questions ere they let them go.

Bumbastus kept a devil's bird

Shut in the pummel of his sword,

That taught him all the cunning pranks

Of past and future mountebanks. 6so

Kelly did all his feats upon

The devil's looking-glass, a stone,

Where, playing with him at bo-peep,

He solv'd all problems, ne'er so deep.

Agrippa kept a Stygian pug 633

I' th' garb and habit of a dog,

That was his tutor, and the cur

618 St. Dunstan was made Archbishop of Canterbury anno
961. His skill in the liberal arts and sciences (qualifica-
tions much above the genius of the age he lived .in) gained
him first the name of a Conjurer, and then of a Saint : he
is revered as such by the Romanists, who keep a holiday
in honour of him yearly, on the 19th of May.

11 This Kelly was chief seer, or, as Lilly calls him,
Speculator, to Dr. Dee ; was born at Worcester, and bred
an apothecary, and was a good proficient in chemistry, and
pretended to have the grand elixir, or philosopher's stone,
which Lilly tells us he made, or at least received ready

204 HUDIBRAS.

Read to th' occult philosopher,

And taught him subt'ly to maintain

All other sciences are vain. 640

To this quoth Sidrophello, Sir,
Agrippa was no conjurer,
Nor Paracelsus, no, nor Behmen ;
Nor was the dog a cacodaemon,
But a true dog, that would shew tricks 645

For th' Emperor, and leap o'er sticks ;
Would fetch and cany, was more civil
Than other dogs, but yet no devil ;
And whatsoe'er he's said to do,
He went the self-same way we go. 650

As for the Rosycross philosophers,
Whom you will have to be but sorcerers,
What they pretend to is no more
Than Trismegistus did before,
Pythagoras, old Zoroaster, 655

And Apollonius their master,
To whom they do confess they owe
All that they do, and all they know.

Quoth Hudibras, Alas ! what is 't t' us
Whether 'twas said by Trismegistus, 660

If it be nonsense, false, or mystic,
Or not intelligible, or sophistic ?

made from a Friar in Germany, on the confines of the
Emperor's dominions. He pretended to see apparitions
in a crystal or beryl looking-glass (or a round stone like a
crystal). Alasco, Palatine of Poland; Pucel, a learned
Florentine ; and Prince Rosemberg of Germany, the
Emperor's Viceroy in Bohemia ; were long of the society
with him and Dr. Dee, and often present at their ap-
paritions, as was once the King of Poland himself. But
Lilly observes that he was so wicked that the angels would
Tiot appear to him -willingly, nor be obedient to him.

PART II. CANTO III. 205

Tis not antiquity, nor author,

That makes truth Truth, although Time's daughter ;

'Twas he that put her in the pit 66*

Before he pull'd her out of it ;

And as he eats his sons, just so

He feeds upon his daughters too.

Nor does it follow, 'cause a herald

Can make a gentleman, scarce a year old, 670

To be descended of a race

Of ancient kings in a small space,

That we should all opinions hold

Authentic that we can make old.

Quoth Sidrophel, It is no part 675

Of prudence to cry down an art,
And what it may perform deny
Because you understand not why
(As Averrhois play'd but a mean trick
To damn our whole art for eccentric) ; 6&>

For who knows all that knowledge contains ?
Men dwell not on the tops of mountains,
But on their sides or rising's seat ;
So 'tis with knowledge's vast height.

70 Such gentry were Thomas Pury, the elder, first
a weaver in Gloucester, then an ignorant solicitor ; John
Blackston, a poor shopkeeper of Newcastle ; John Birch,
formerly a carrier, afterwards Colonel ; Richard Salway,
Colonel, formerly a grocer's man ; Thomas Rainsborough
a skipper of Lynn, Colonel and Vice-Admiral of England;
Colonel Thomas Scot, a brewer's clerk ; Colonel Philip
Skippon, originally a waggoner to Sir Francis Vere;
Colonel John Jones, a serving-man ; Colonel Barkstead,
a pitiful thimble and bodkin goldsmith ; Colonel Pride,
foundling and drayman ; Colonel Hewson, a one-eyed
cobbler; and Colonel Harrison, a butcher. These and
hundreds more affected to be thought gentlemen, and
lorded it over persons of the first rank and quality.

206 HUDIBRAS.

Do not the hist'ries of all ages 6ts

Relate miraculous presages

Of strange turns in the world's affairs

Foreseen b' astrologers, soothsayers,

Chaldeans, learn'd Genethliacks,

And some that have writ almanacks ? 6yo

The Median Emp'ror dream'd his daughter

Had piss'd all Asia under water,

And that a vine, sprung from her haunches,

O'erspread his empire with its branches ;

And did not soothsayers expound it frjs

As after by th' event he found it ?

When Caesar in the senate fell,

Did not the sun eclips'd foretell,

And in resentment of his slaughter

Look'd pale for almost a year after ? TOO

Augustus having, by' oversight,

Put on his left shoe 'fore his right,

Had like to have been slain that day

By soldiers mutin'ing for pay.

Are there not myriads of this sort ?i 5

Which stories of all times report ?

Is it not ominous in all countries

When crows and ravens croak upon trees ?

The Roman senate, when within

The city walls an owl was seen,

Did cause their clergy, with lustrations

(Our Synod calls Humiliations),

The round-fac'd prodigy t' avert

From doing town or country hurt.

And if an owl have so much pow'r, 715

Why should not planets have much more,

That in a region far above

Inferior fowls of the air move,

PART II. CANTO III. 207

And should see further, and foreknow
More than their augury below ? 7-jo

Though that once serv'd the polity
Of mighty states to govern by ;
And this is what we take in hand
By pow'rful Art to understand ;
Which how we have perform'd all ages 7^5

Can speak th' events of our presages.
Have we not lately in the moon
Found a new world, to th' old unknown ?
Discover'd sea and land Columbus
And Magellan could never compass ? 7.10

Made mountains with our tubes appear,
And cattle grazing on 'em there ?
Quoth Hudibras, You lie so ope
That I, without a telescope,

Can find your tricks out, and descry 735

Where you tell truth and where you lye :
For Anaxagoras, long agon,

Saw hills, as well as you, i' th' moon,

And held the sun was but a piece

Of red-hot ir'n as big as Greece ; 740

Believ'd the heav'ns were made of stone,

Because the sun had voided one ;

And, rather than he would recant

Th' opinion, suffer'd banishment.

But what, alas ! is it to us 715

Whether i' th' moon men thus or thus

Do eat their porridge, cut their corns,

Or whether they have tails or horns ?

What trade from thence can you advance

But what we nearer have from France ? 7:0

What can our travellers bring home

That is not to be learnt at Rome ?

208 IIUDIBRAS.

What politics or strange opinions

That are not in our own dominions ?

What science can be brought from thence 755

In which we do not here commence ?

What revelations or religions

That are not in our native regions ?

Are sweating-lanterns or screen-fans

Made better there than th' are in France ? 760

Or do they teach to sing and play

O' th' guitar there a newer way ?

Can they make plays there that shall fit

The public humour with less wit ;

Write wittier dances, quainter shows, 765

Or fight with more ingenious blows ?

Or does the man i' th' moon look big,

And wear a huger periwig ?

Shew in his gate or face more tricks

Than our own native lunatics ? 770

But if w' outdo him here at home,

What good of your design can come ?

As wind i' th' hypocondres pent

Is but a blast if downward sent,

But if it upward chance to fly 775

Becomes new light and prophecy ;

So when your speculations tend

Above their just and useful end,

Although they promise strange and great

Discoveries of things far set, 7a<>

They are but idle dreams and fancies,

And savour strongly of the ganzas.

Tell me but what's the natural cause

Why on a sign no painter draws

The full-moon ever, but the half ? 7»5

Resolve that with your Jacob's staff;

PART II. CANTO III. 209

Or why wolves raise a hubbub at her,

And dogs howl when she shines in water ?

And I shall freely give my vote

You may know something more remote. 790

At this deep Sidrophel look'd wise,

And, staring round with owl-like eyes,

He put his face into a posture

Of sapience, and began to bluster ;

For having three times shook his head, 795

To stir his wit up, thus he said :

Art has no mortal enemies

Next ignorance, but owls and geese ;

Those consecrated geese in orders

That to the capitol were \varders, 300

And, being then upon patrol,

With noise alone beat off the Gaul ;
Or those Athenian sceptic owls

That will not credit their owii souls,
Or any science understand a.-s

Beyond the reach of eye or hand,
But, meas'ring all things by their own
Knowledge, hold nothing 's to be known ;
Those wholesale critics, that in coffee-
Houses cry down all philosophy, sio
And will not know upon what ground
In Nature we our doctrine found,
Although with pregnant evidence
We can demonstrate it to sense,
As I just now have done to you, sis
Foretelling what you came to know.
Were the stars only made to light
Robbers and burglarers by night ?
To wait on drunkards, thieves, gold-finders,
And lovers solacing behind doors, 820
VOL. i. p

210 HUDJBRAS.

Or giving one another pledges

Of matrimony under hedges ?

Or witches simpling, and on gibbets

Cutting from malefactors snippets,

Or from the pill'ry tips of ears w>5

Of rebel saints and perjurers ?

Only to stand by and look on,

But not know what is said or done ?

Is there a constellation there

That was riot born and bred up here, &so

And therefore cannot be to learn

In any inferior concern ?

Were they not, during all their lives,

Most of them pirates, whores, and thieves ?

And is it like they have not still 335

In their old practices some skill ?

Is there a planet that by birth

Does not derive its house from earth,

And therefore probably must know

What is and hath been done below ? *HJ

Who made the Balance, or whence came

The Bull, the Lion, and the Rain ?

Did not we here the Argo rig,

Make Berenice's periwig ?

Whose liv'ry does the Coachman wear ? »45

Or who made Cassiopeia's chair ?

And therefore, as they came from hence,

With us may hold intelligence.

Plato deny'd the world can be

Govern'd without geometry aso

(For money b'ing the common scale

Of things by measure, weight, and tale,

In all th' affairs of church and state

'Tis both the balance and the weight) ;

PART II. CANTO III. 211

Then much less can it be without 855

Divine astrology made out,

That puts the other down in worth

As far as heaven's above the earth.

These reasons (quoth the Knight) I grant
Are something more significant 860

Than any that the learned use
Upon this subject to produce ;
And yet th' are far from satisfactory
T' establish and keep up your factory.
Th' Egyptians say, the sun has twice at*

Shifted his setting and his rise ;
Twice has he risen in the west,
As many times set in the east :
But whether that be true or no
The devil any of you know. sru

Some hold the heavens, like a top,
Are kept by circulation up,
And, were 't not for their wheeling round,
They'd instantly fall to the ground ;
As sage Empedocles of old, 875

And, from him, modern authors hold.
Plato believ'd the sun and moon
Below all other planets run.
Some Mercury, some Venus, seat
Above the sun himself in height. BBO

The learned Scaliger complain'd,
'Gainst what Copernicus maintained,
That, in twelve hundred years and odd,
The sun had left its ancient road,
And nearer to the earth is come ess

'Bove fifty thousand miles from home ;

873 VAR. ' And, 'twere not.'

212

IIUDIBRAS.

Swore 'twas a most notorious flam,

And he that had so little shame

To vent such fopperies abroad

Deserv'd to have his rump well claw'd ; &go

Which Monsieur Bodin hearing1, swore

That he deserv'd the rod much more

That durst upon a truth give doom

He knew less than the Pope of Rome.

Cardan believ'd great states depend K{ :>

Upon the tip o' th' Bear's tail's end,

That, as she whisk'd it t'wards the sun,

Strew'd mighty empires up and down ;

Which others say must needs be false,

Because your true bears have no tails. 900

Some say the Zodiac constellations

Have long since chang'd their antique stations

Above a sign, and prove the same

In Taurus now, once in the Ram ;

Affirm the Trigons chopp'd and chang'd, gos

The wat'ry with the fiery rang'd :

Then how can their effects still hold

To lie the same they were of old ?

This, though the art were true, would make

Our modern soothsayers mistake, gio

And is one cause they tell more lies

In figures and nativities

Than th' old Chaldean conjurers

In so many hundred thousand years ;

Beside their nonsense in translating, 915

894 VAR. ' He knew no more,' &c.

901 VAH. « Some say the stars i' th' Zodiac

Are more than a whole sign gone back
Since Ptolemy ; and prove the same
In Taurus now, then in the Ram.'

PART II. CANTO III. 213

For want of Accidence and Latin,

Like Idus and Calendae, English t

The Quarter-days by skilful linguist :

And yet with canting, sleight, and cheat,

'Twill serve their turn to do the feat ; 920

Make fools believe in their foreseeing

Of things before they are in being ;

To swallow gudgeons ere they're catch'd,

And count their chickens ere they're hatch'd ;

Make them the constellations prompt, 925

And give them back their own accompt ;

But still the best to him that gives

The best price for't, or best believes.

Some towns, some cities, some, for brevity,

Have cast the versal world's nativity, 930

And made the infant-stars confess,

Like fools or children, what they please.

Some calculate the hidden fates

Of monkeys, puppy-dogs, and cats ;

Some running-nags and fighting-cocks ; 935

Some love, trade, law-suits, and the pox ;

Some take a measure of the lives

Of fathers, mothers, husbands, wives,

Make opposition, trine, and quartile,

Tell who is barren and who fertile. yu

As if the planet's first aspect

The tender infant did infect

In soul and body, and instill

All future good and future ill ;

Which, in their dark fatal'ties lurking, 945

At destin'd periods fall a-working,

And break out, like the hidden seeds

Of long diseases, into deeds,

In friendships, enmities, and strife,

214 HUDIBRAS.

And all th' emergencies of life : 950

No sooner does he peep into

The world but he has done his do,

Catch'd all diseases, took all physic

That cures or kills a man that is sick,

Marry 'd his punctual dose of wives, 955

Is cuckolded, and breaks or thrives.

There's but the twinkling of a star

Between a man of peace and war,

A thief and justice, fool and knave,

A huffing officer and a slave, 9<w

A crafty lawyer and pick-pocket,

A great philosopher and a blockhead,

A formal preacher and a player,

A learn'd physician and man-slayer ;

As if men from the stars did suck 96*

Old age, diseases, and ill-luck,

Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice,

Trade, travel, women, claps, and dice,

And draw, with the first air they breathe,

Battle and murder, sudden death. 970

Are not these fine commodities

To be imported from the skies,

And vended here among the rabble

For staple goods and warrantable ?

Like money by the Druids borrow'd, 975

In th' other world to be restored.

Quoth Sidrophel, To let you know
You wrong the art and artists too,
Since arguments are lost on those
That do our principles oppose, 980

I will (although I've done 't before)

95« VAR. ' Cookolded,1

PART II. CANTO III. 215

Demonstrate to your sense once more,

And draw a figure that shall tell you

What you perhaps forget befell you,

By way of horary inspection, 985

Which some account our worst erection.

With that he circles draws and squares,

With ciphers, astral characters,

Then looks 'em o'er to understand 'em,

Although set down hab-nab at random. 990

Quoth he, This scheme of th' heavens set
Discovers how in fight you met
At Kingston with a May-pole idol,
And that y' were bang'd both back and side well ;
And, though you overcame the Bear, 995

The dogs beat you at Brentford fair,
Where sturdy butchers broke your noddle,
And handled you like a fop-doodle.

Quoth Hudibras, I now perceive
You are no conj'rer : by your leave : 1000

That paltry story is untrue,
And forg'd to cheat such gulls as you.

Not true ! quoth he ; Howe'er you vapour,
I can what I affirm make appear ;
Whachum shall justify 't t' your face, 1005

And prove he was upon the place :
He play'd the saltinbancho's part,
Transform 'd t' a Frenchman by my art;
He stole your cloak, and pick'd your pocket,
Chous'd and caldes'd you like a blockhead, toio
And what you lost I can produce,
Jf you deny it, here i' th' house.

Quoth Hudibras, I do believe

1010 YAR. ' Caldes'd.' Put the fortune-teller on him.

216 HUDIBRAS.

That argument 's demonstrative ;

Ralpho, bear witness, and go fetch us 1015

A constable to seize the wretches :

For though th' are both false knaves and cheats,

Impostors, jugglers, counterfeits,

I'll make them serve for perpendic'lars

As true as e'er were us'd by bricklayers. 1020

They 're guilty, by their own confessions,

Of felony, and at the Sessions,

Upon the bench, I will so handle 'em,

That the vibration of this pendulum

Shall make all tailors' yards of one loss

Unanimous opinion ;

A thing he long has vapour'd of,

But now shall make it out by proof.

Quoth Sidrophel, I do not doubt
To find friends that will bear me out ; ioso

Nor have I hazarded my art
And neck so long on the State's part
To be expos'd i1 th' end to suffer
By such a braggadocio huffer.

Huffer ! quoth Hudibras, this sword 10.35

Shall down thy false throat cram that word.
Ralpho, make haste, and call an officer
To apprehend this Stygian sophister ;
Meanwhile I'll hold 'em at a bay,
Lest he and Whachum run away. 10*0

But Sidrophel, who from th' aspect
Of Hudibras did now erect
A figure worse portending far
Than that of most malignant star,
Believ'd it now the fittest moment 1045

To shun the danger that might come on 't,
While Hudibras was all alone,

PART II. CANTO III. 217

And he and Whachum two to one.

This being resolv'd, he spy'd by chance

Behind the door an iron lance, ioso

That many a sturdy limb had gor'd,

And legs, and loins, and shoulders bor'd ;

He snatch'd it up, and made a pass

To make his way through Hudibras.

Whachum had got a fire-fork, 1055

With which he vow'd to do his work ;

But Hudibras was well prepar'd,

And stoutly stood upon his guard :

He put by Sidrophello's thrust,

And in right manfully he rusht ; 060

The weapon from his gripe he wrung,

And laid him on the earth along.

Whachum his sea-coal prong threw by,

And basely turn'd his back to fly ;

But Hudibras gave him a twitch, 1065

As quick as lightning, in the breech,

Just in the place where honour 's lodg'd,

As wise philosophers have judg'd.

Because a kick in that place more

Hurts honour than deep wounds- before. 11.70

Quoth Hudibras, The stars determine
You are my prisoners, base vermine :
Could they not tell you so, as well
As what I came to know foretell ?
By this what cheats you are we find, 1075

That* in your own concerns are blind.
Your lives are now at my dispose,
To be redeem'd by fine or blows ;
But who his honour would defile
To take or sell two lives so vile ? loso

I'll give you quarter ; but your pillage,

218

HUDIBRAS.

The conqu'ring- warrior's crop and tillage
Which with his sword he reaps and plows,
That 's mine, the law of arms allows.

This said in haste, in haste he fell loss

To rummaging of Sidrophel.
First he expounded both his pockets,
And found a watch, with rings and lockets,
Which had been left with him t' erect
A figure for, and so detect ; 1090

A copper- plate, with almanacks
Engrav'd upon 't, with other knacks
Of Booker's, Lilly's, Sarah Jimmers',
And blank schemes to discover nimmers ;
A moon-dial, with Napier's bones, 1095

And several constellation-stones,
Engrav'd in planetary hours,
That over mortals had strange powers
To make them thrive in law or trade,
And stab or poison to evade, noo

In wit or wisdom to improve,
And be victorious in love.
Whachum had neither cross nor pile,
His plunder was not worth the while.
All which the conqu'ror did discompt, 1105

To pay for curing of his rump.
But Sidrophel, as full of tricks
As Rota-men of politics,

1093 John Booker was born in Manchester, and was a
famous astrologer in the time of the civil wars. He was a
great acquaintance of Lilly's ; and so was this Sarah
Jimmers, whom Lilly calls ' Sarah Shelhorn,' a great specu-
latrix. He owns he was very familiar with her (' quod nota'),
so that it is no wonder that the Knight found several of
their knick-knacks in Sidrophel's cabinet.

PART II. CANTO III. 219

Straight cast about to overreach

Th' unwary conqu'ror with a fetch, 1110

And make him glad at least to quit

His victory, and fly the pit,

Before the secular prince of darkness

Arriv'd to seize upon his carcass :

And as a fox, with hot pursuit ins

Chas'd through a warren, casts about

To save his credit, and among

Dead vermine on a gallows hung,

And while the dogs run underneath,

Escap'd (by counterfeiting death), 1120

Not out of cunning, but a train

Of atoms justling in his brain,

As learn'd philosophers give out ;

So Sidrophello cast about,

And fell t' his wonted trade again ii«5

To feign himself in earnest slain.

First stretch'd out one leg, then another,

And, seeming in his breast to smother

A broken sigh ; quoth he, Where am I ?

Alive or dead ? or which way came I nso

Through so immense a space so soon ?

But now I thought myself i' th' moon.

And that a monster, with huge whiskers

More formidable than a Switzer's,

My body through and through had drill'd, 1135

And Whachum by my side had kill'd ;

Had cross-examin'd both our hose,

And plunder'd all we had to lose :

Look ! there he is ! I see him now,

And feel the place I am run through ! 11*0

And there lies Whachum by my side

Stone dead, and in his own blood dy'd !

220 HUDIBRAS.

Oh ! oh ! — With that he fetch'd a groan,

And fell again into a swoon,

Shut both his eyes, and stopp'd his breath, 1145

And to the life outacted death,

That Hudibras, to all appearing-,

Believ'd him to be dead as herring.

He held it now no longer safe

To tarry the return of Ralph, iu,o

But rather leave him in the lurch :

Thought he, He has abus'd our Church,

Refus'd to give himself one firk

To carry on the Public Work ;

Despis'd our Synod-men like dirt, 1155

And made their discipline his sport ;

Divulg'd the secrets of their Classes,

And their Conventions prov'd high-places ;

Disparag'd their tithe-pigs as Pagan,

And set at nought their cheese and bacon ; 1160

Rail'd at their Covenant, and jeer'd

Their rev'rend Parsons to my beard ;

For all which scandals to be quit

At once this juncture falls out fit.

I'll make him henceforth to beware, 1165

And tempt my fury if he dare :

He must at least hold up his hand,

By twelve freeholders to be scann'd,

Who, by their skill in palmistry,

Will quickly read his destiny, 1170

And make him glad to read his lesson,

Or take a turn for 't at the Session,

Unless his Light and gifts prove truer

Than ever yet they did, I'm sure :

For if he 'scape with whipping now, nis

Tis more than he can hope to do ;

PART II. CANTO III. 221

And that will disengage my Conscience

Of th' obligation, in his own sense.

I'll make him now by force abide,

What he by gentle means deny'd, iiso

To give my honour satisfaction,

And right the Brethren in the action.

This being resolv'd, with equal speed

And conduct he approach'd his steed,

And, with activity unwont, nss

Assay'd the lofty beast to mount ;

Which once achiev'd, he spurr'd his palfry

To get from th' enemy and Ralph free ;

Left dangers, fears, and foes behind,

And beat at least three lengths the wind. 1190

222

AN HEROICAL EPISTLE*
OF HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL.

Ecce iterum Crispinus. . . .

WELL, Sidrophel, though 'tis in vain

To tamper with your crazy brain,

Without trepanning- of your scull

As often as the moon 's at full,

Tis not amiss, ere y' are giv'n o'er, 5

To try one desp'rate med'cine more ;

For where your case can be no worse

The desp'rat'st is the wisest course.

Is 't possible that you, whose ears

Are of the tribe of Issachar's, jo

And mig-ht (with equal reason) either

For merit or extent of leather,

With William Pryn's, before they were

Retrench'd and crucify'd, compare,

* This Epistle was published ten years after the Third
Canto of the Second Part, to which it is now annexed,
namely, in the year 1674 ; and is said, in a Key to a Bur-
lesque Poem of Mr. Butler's, published 1706, p. 13, to have
been occasioned by Sir Paul Neal, a conceited virtuoso,
and member of the Royal Society, who constantly affirmed
that Mr. Butler was not the author of Hudibras, whicli
gave rise to this Epistle ; and by some he has been taken
for the real Sidrophel of the poem. This was the gentle-
man, who, I am told, made a great discovery of an elephant
in the moon, which, upon examination, proved to be no
other than a mouse which had mistaken its way, and got
into his telescope. See ' The Elephant in the Moon,' vol. ii.

HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL. 223

Should yet be deaf against a noise is

So roaring as the public voice ?

That speaks your virtues free and loud,

And openly in every crowd,

As loud as one that sings his part

T' a wheelbarrow or turnip-cart, 20

Or your new nick-nam'd old invention

To cry green bastings with an engine

(As if the vehemence had stunn'd

And torn your drum-heads with the sound) ;

And 'cause your folly 's now no news, 25

But overgrown and out of use,

Persuade yourself there 's no such matter,

But that 'tis vanish'd out of Nature ;

When Folly, as it grows in years,

The more extravagant appears ; 30

For who but you could be possest

With so much ignorance and beast,

That neither all men's scorn and hate,

Nor being laugh'd and pointed at,

Nor bray'd so often in a mortar, 35

Can teach you wholesome sense and nurture,

But (like a reprobate) what course

Soever us'd, grow worse and worse ?

Can no transfusion of the blood,

That makes fools cattle, do you good ? -to

Nor putting pigs t' a bitch to .nurse,

To turn them into mongrel curs,

Put you into a way at least

To make yourself a better beast?

Can all your critical intrigues 45

Of trying sound from rotten eggs ;

Your sev'ral new-found remedies

Of curing wounds and scabs in trees ;

224 HUUIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL.

Your arts of fluxing them for claps,

And purging- their infected saps ; so

Recov'ring shankers, chrystallines,

And nodes and blotches in their rinds ;

Have no effect to operate

Upon that duller block, your pate ?

But still it must be lewdly bent 55

To tempt your own due punishment ;

And, like your whimsy'd chariots, draw

The boys to course you without law ;

As if the art you have so long

Profess'd, of making old dogs young, 60

In you had virtue to renew

Not only youth but childhood too.

Can you, that understand all books,

By judging only with your looks,

Resolve all problems with your face, fi5

As others do with B's and A's ;

Unriddle all that mankind knows

With solid bending of your brows ;

All arts and sciences advance

With screwing of your countenance, 70

And with a penetrating eye

Into th' abstrusest learning pry ;

Know more of any trade b' a hint

Than those that have been bred up in 't,

And yet have no art, true or false, 75

To help your own bad naturals ?

But still the more you strive t' appear

Are found to be the wretcheder :

For fools are known by looking wise,

As men find woodcocks by their eyes. ao

Hence 'tis that 'cause y' have gain'd o' th' college

A quarter share (at most) of knowledge,

HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPIIEL. '225

And brought in none, but spent repute,

Y' assume a pow'r as absolute

To judge, and censure, and control, 85

As if you were the sole Sir Poll,

And saucily pretend to know

More than your dividend comes to.

You'll find the thing will not be done

With ignorance and face alone ; 90

No, though y' have purchas'd to your name

In history so great a fame ;

That now your talent 's so well known

For having all belief outgrown,

That ev'ry strange prodigious tale 95

Is measur'd by your German scale —

By which the virtuosi try

The magnitude of ev'ry lie,

Cast up to what it does amount,

And place the bigg'st to your account : 100

That all those stories that are laid

86 Sir Politic Would-be, in " Volpone."

91 92 These two lines, I think, plainly discover that Lillv,
and not Sir Paul Xeal, was here lashed under the name of
' Sidrophel ;' for Lilly's fame abroad was indisputable. Mr.
Strickland, who was many years agent for the Parliament
in Holland, thus publishes it : "I came purposely into the
committee this day to see the man who is so famous in those
parts where I have so long continued : I assure you his
name is famous all over Europe. I came to do him justice."
Lilly is also careful to tell us, that the King of Sweden
sent him a gold chain and medal, worth about fifty pounds,
for making honourable mention of his Majesty in one of his
almanacks, which, he says, was translated into the language
spoken at Hamburgh, and printed and cried about the
streets, as it was in London. Thus he trumpets to the
world the fame he acquired by his infamous practices, if
we may credit his own history.

VOL. I. Q

226 HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL.

Too truly to you, and those made,

Are now still charg'd upon your score,

And lesser authors nam'd no more.

Alas ! that faculty betrays 105

Those soonest it designs to raise ;

And all your vain renown will spoil,

As guns o'ercharg'd the more recoil ;

Though he that has but impudence

To all things has a fair pretence ; no

And put among his wants but shame,

To all the world may lay his claim :

Though you have try'd that nothing '& borne

With greater ease than public scorn,

That all affronts do still give place 115

To your impenetrable face ;

That makes your way through all affairs,

As pigs through hedges creep with theirs :

Yet as 'tis counterfeit, and brass,

You must not think 'twill always pass ; ico

For all impostors, when they're known,

Are past their labour and undone ;

And all the best that can befall

An artificial natural,

Is that which madmen find as soon 125

As once they're broke loose from the moon,

And, proof against her influence,

ilelapse to e'er so little sense,

To turn stark fools, and subjects fit

For sport of boys and rabble- wit. iso

103 VAR. 'Destroys.'

227

PART III. CANTO I.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Knight and Squire resolve at once,

The one the other to renounce ;

They both approach the Lady's bower,

The Squire t' inform, the Knight to woo her.

She treats them with a masquerade,

By Furies and Hobgoblins made ;

From which the Squire conveys the Knight,

And steals him from himself by night.

Tis true no lover has that pow'r

T' enforce a desperate amour,

As he that has two strings t' his bow,

And burns for love and money too ;

For then he 's brave and resolute, 5

Disdains to render in his suit ;

Has all his flames and raptures double,

And hangs or drowns with half the trouble ;

While those who sillily pursue

The simple downright way and true, jo

Make as unlucky applications,

And steer against the stream, their passions.

Some forge their mistresses of stars,

And when the ladies prove averse,

And more untoward to be won 1 5

Than by Caligula the moon,

Cry out upon the stars for doing

111 offices, to cross their wooing,

When only by themselves they're hind'red,

'228 IIUDIBRAS.

For trusting- those they made her kindred, co

And still the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder ;
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride ?
Or for a lady tender-hearted, 25

In purling streams or hemp departed ?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room ?
But for some cross ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame. :>o

This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use,
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways, 35

As follows in due time and place.
No sooner was the bloody fight
Between the Wizard and the Knight,
With all th' appurtenances, over,
But he relaps'd again t' a lover, 4i>

As he was always wont to do
When h' had discomfited a foe,
And us'd the only antique philters
Deriv'd from old heroic tilters.
But now triumphant arid victorious, 45

He held th' achievement was too glorious
For such a conqueror to meddle
With petty constable or beadle,
Or fly for refuge to the hostess
Of th' inns of Court and Chancery, Justice ; 50
Who might perhaps reduce his cause

45 VAR. ' And us'd as.'

PART III. CANTO I. 229

To th' ordeal trial of the laws,

Where none escape but such as branded

With red-hot irons have past bare-handed ;

And, if they cannot read one verse 55

I' th' Psalms, must sing it, and that's worse.

He, therefore, judging it below him

To tempt a shame the dev'l might owe him,

Resolv'd to leave the Squire for bail

And mainprize for him to the jail, 60

To answer, with his vessel all

That might disastrously befall,

And thought it now the fittest juncture

To give the Lady a rencounter,

T' acquaint her with his expedition, 65

And conquest o'er the fierce magician ;

Describe the manner of the fray,

And shew the spoils he brought away ;

His bloody- scourging aggravate,

The number of the blows, and weight ; 70

All which might probably succeed,

And gain belief he 'ad done the deed :

Which he resolv'd t' enforce, and spare

No pawning of his soul to swear ;

But rather than produce his back, 75

To set his conscience on the rack ;

And, in pursuance of his urging

Of articles perform'd, and scourging,

And all things else, upon his part

Demand deliv'ry of her heart, so

Her goods, and chattels, and good graces,

And person, up to his embraces.

Thought he, The ancient errant knights

Won all their ladies' hearts in fights,

And cut whole giants into fritters, «

'-16V HUDIBRAS.

To put them into am'rous twitters ;

Whose stubborn bowels scorn'd to yield,

TJntil their gallants were half kill'd ;

But when their bones were drubb'd so sore,

They durst not woo one combat more, 90

The ladies' hearts began to melt,

Subdu'd by blows their lovers felt.

So Spanish heroes with their lances,

At once wound bulls and ladies' fancies ;

And he acquires the noblest spouse 95

That widows greatest herds of cows ;

Then what may I expect to do,

Wh' have quell'd so vast a buffalo ?

Meanwhile the Squire was on his way,

The Knight's late orders to obey ; iwo

Who sent him for a strong detachment

Of beadles, constables, and watchmen,

T' attack the cunning-man, for plunder

Committed falsely on his lumber ;

When he who had so lately sack'd 105

The enemy, had done the fact ;

Had rifled all his pokes and .fobs

Of gimcracks, whims, and jiggumbobs,

Which he by hook or crook had gather'd,

And for his own inventions father'd ; no

And when they should, at gaol delivery,

Unriddle one another's thievery,

Both might have evidence enough

To reader neither halter-proof:

He thought it desperate to tarry, MS

And venture to be accessary ;

But rather wisely slip his fetters,

And leave them for the Knight, his betters.

He call'd to mind th' unjust foul play,

PART III. CANTO I. 231

He would have offer'd him that day, ico

To make him curry his own hide,

Which no beast ever did beside

Without all possible evasion,

But of the riding dispensation :

And therefore much about the hour ics

The Knight (for reasons told before)

Resolv'd to leave him to the fury

Of Justice, and an unpack'd jury,

The Squire concurr'd t' abandon him,

And serve him in the self-same trim ; iso

T' acquaint the Lady what h' had done,

And what he meant to carry on ;

What project 'twas he went about,

When Sidrophel and he fell out :

His firm and steadfast resolution, 135

To swear her to an execution ;

To pawn his inward ears to marry her,

And bribe the devil himself to carry her ;

In which both dealt, as if they meant

Their party-saints to represent, u»

Who never fail'd upon their sharing

In any prosperous arms-bearing,

To lay themselves out, to supplant

Each other cousin-german saint.

But ere the Knight could do his part, ur,

The Squire had got so much the start,

H' had to the Lady done his errand,

And told her all his tricks aforehand.

Just as he finish'd his report,

The Knight alighted in the court, 150

And having ty'd his beast t' a pale,

And taking time for both to stale,

He put his band and beard in order,

232 HUDIBRAS.

The sprucer to accost and board her :

And now began t' approach the door, 155

When she, wh' had spy'd him out before,

Convey 'd th' informer out of sight,

And went to entertain the Knight ;

With whom encount'ring, after longees

Of humble and submissive congees, 160

And all due ceremonies paid,

He strok'd his beard, and thus he said :

Madam, I do, as is my duty,
Honour the shadow of your shoe-tye ;
And now am come to bring your ear 165

A present you'll be glad to hear ;
At least I hope so : the thing 's done,
Or may I never see the sun ;
For which I humbly now demand
Performance at your gentle hand ; 170

And that you 'd please to do your part
As I have done mine, to my smart.

With that he shrugg'd his sturdy back,
As if he felt his shoulders ake :
But she, who well enough knew what 175

(Before he spoke) he would be at,
Pretended not to apprehend
The mystery of what he mean'd.
And therefore wish'd him to expound
His dark expressions less profound. jeo

Madam, quoth he, I come to prove
How much F ve suffered for your love,
Which (like your votary) to win,
I have not spar'd my tatter'd skin :
And, for those meritorious lashes, IBS

To claim your favour and good graces.

Quoth she, I do remember once

PART III. CANTO I. 233

I freed you from th' inchanted sconce,

And that you promis'd for that favour

To bind your back to th' good behaviour ; 190

And, for my sake and service, vow'd

To lay upon 't a heavy load,

And what 't would bear t' a scruple prove,

As other knights do oft make love ;

Which, whether you have done or no, 195

Concerns yourself, not me, to know ;

But if you have, I shall confess

Y' are honester than I could guess.

Quoth he, If you suspect my troth,
I cannot prove it but by oath ; ceo

And if you make a question on 't,
I '11 pawn my soul that I have done 't :
And he that makes his soul his surety,
I think, does give the best security.

Quoth she, Some say the soul 's secure 205

Against distress and forfeiture ;
Is free from action, and exempt
From execution and contempt ;
And to be summon'd to appear
In th' other world 's illegal here, 210

And therefore few make any account
Int' what incumbrances they run 't ;
For most men carry things so even
Between this world, and hell, and heaven,
Without the least offence to either, cio

They freely deal in all together.
And equally abhor to quit
This world for both, or both for it ;
And when they pawn and damn their souls,
They are but pris'ners on paroles. ceo

For that, quoth he, 'tis rational,

"234 IIUDIBRAS.

They may b' accomptable in all :

For when there is that intercourse

Between divine and human pow'rs,

That all that we determine here 225

Commands obedience every-where ;

When penalties may be commuted

For fines, or ears, and executed,

It follows nothing binds so fast

As souls in pawn and mortgage past ; s.-io

For oaths are th' only tests and seals

Of right and wrong, and true and false ;

And there 's no other way to try

The doubts of law and justice by.

Quoth she, What is it you would swear ? 2.35
There 's no believing till I hear :
For till they 're understood, all tales
(Like nonsense) are not true nor false.

Quoth he, When I resolv'd t' obey
What you commanded th' other day, 240

And to perform my exercise
(As schools are wont) for your fair eyes,
T' avoid all scruples in the case,
I went to do 't upon the place ;
But as the castle is inchanted 24.5

By Sidrophel the witch, and haunted
With evil spirits, as you know,
Who took my Squire and me for two,
Before I 'ad hardly time to lay
My weapons by, and disarray, 250

I heard a formidable noise,
Loud as the Stentrophonic voice,
That roar'd far off, Dispatch, and strip,
I 'm ready with th' infernal whip,
That shall divest thy ribs of skin, 255

PART III. CANTO I. 235

To expiate thy ling'ring sin ;

Th' hast broke perfidiously thy oath,

And not perform'd thy plighted troth,

But spar'd thy renegade back,

Where th' hadst so great a prize at stake, 260

Which now the Fates have order'd me,

For penance and revenge to flee,

Unless thou presently make haste ;

Time is, time was : and there it ceast.

With which, though startled, I confess, c65

Yet th* horror of the thing was less

Than th' other dismal apprehension

Of interruption or prevention ;

And therefore snatching up the rod,

I laid upon my back a load, 270

Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood,

To make my word and honour good :

Till tir'd, and taking truce at length,

For new recruits of breath and strength,

I felt the blows still ply'd as fast 275

As if th' had been by lovers plac'd

In raptures of Platonic lashing,

And chaste contemplative bardashing ;

When facing hastily about,

To stand upon my guard and scout, 2so

I found th' infernal cunning-man,

And th' under-witch, his Caliban,

With scourges (like the Furies) arm'd,

That on my outward quarters storm'd.

In haste I snatch'd my weapon up, eso

And gave their hellish rage a stop ;

Call'd thrice upon your name, and fell

Courageously on Sidrophel ;

Who now transform'd himself t' a bear,

236

IIUDIBRAS.

Began to roar aloud and tear ; 290

When I as furiously press'd on,
My weapon down his throat to run,
Laid hold on him, but he broke loose,
And turn'd himself into a goose,
Div'd under water in a pond, cys

To hide himself from being found.
In vain I sought him ; but as soon
As I perceiv'd him fled and gone,
Prepar'd, with equal haste and rage,
His under-sorcerer t' engage ; ,100

But bravely scorning to defile
My sword with feeble blood, and vile,
I judg'd it better from a quick-
Set hedge to cut a knotted stick ;
With which I furiously laid on, 305

Till in a harsh and doleful tone
It roar'd, O hold, for pity, Sir !
I am too great a sufferer,
Abus'd, as you have been, b' a witch,
But conjur'd into a worse caprich : .no

Who sends me out on many a jaunt,
Old houses in the night to haunt,
For opportunities t' improve
Designs of thievery or love ;

With drugs convey 'd in drink or meat, 315

All feats of witches counterfeit,
Kill pigs and geese with powder'd glass,
And make it for inchantment pass ;
With cow-itch measle like a leper,
And choke with fumes of Guiney-pepper ; 320
Make lechers, and their punks, with dewtry,
Commit phantastical advowtry ;
Bewitch Hermetic-men to run

PART III. CANTO I. 237

Stark staring mad with manicon ;

Believe mechanic virtuosi 325

Can raise them mountains in Potosi ;

And, sillier than the antic fools,

Take treasure for a heap of coals ;

Seek out for plants with signatures,

To quack off universal cures ; 330

With figures ground on panes of glass,

Make people on their heads to pass ;

And mighty heaps of coin increase,

Reflected from a single piece ;

To draw in fools, whose nat'ral itches .335

Incline perpetually to witches,

And keep me in continual fears,

And danger of my neck and ears ;

When less delinquents have been scourg'd,

And hemp on wooden anvils forg'd, 340

Which others for cravats have worn

About their necks, and took a turn.

I pity'd the sad punishment
The wretched caitiff underwent,
And held my drubbing of his bones 345

Too great an honour for pultroons ;
For knights are bound to feel no blows
From paltry and unequal foes,
Who, when they slash and cut to pieces,
Do all with civilest addresses : 350

Their horses never give a blow,
But when they make a leg and bow.
I therefore spar'd his flesh, and prest him
About the witch with many a question.

Quoth he, For many years he drove 355

A kind of broking-trade in love :
Employ'd in all th' intrigues and trust,

238 HUDIBRAS.

Of feeble speculative lust ;

Procurer to th' extravagancy

And crazy ribaldry of fancy, 360

By those the devil had forsook,

As things below him, to provoke ;

But b'ing a virtuoso, able

To smatter, quack, and cant, and dabble,

He held his talent most adroit, 365

For any mystical exploit,

As others of his tribe had done,

And rais'd their prices three to one :

For one predicting1 pimp has th' odds

Of chaldrons of plain downright bawds, 370

But as an elf (the dev'l's valet)

Is not so slight a thing to get,

For those that do his bus'ness best,

In hell are us'd the ruggedest,

Before so meriting a person 375

Could get a grant, but in reversion,

He serv'd two prenticeships, and longer,

1' th' myst'ry of a lady-monger.

For (as some write) a witch's ghost,

As soon as from the body loos'd, sso

Becomes a puiney imp itself,

And is another witch's elf.

He, after searching far and near,

At length found one in Lancashire,

With whom he bargain'd before-hand, sss

And, after hanging, entertain'd :

Since which h' has play'd a thousand feats,

And practis'd all mechanic cheats ;

Transform'd himself to th' ugly shapes

Of wolves, and bears, baboons, and apes, 390

Which he has vary'd more than witches,

PART III. CANTO I. 239

Or Pharaoh's wizards, could their switches ;

And all with whom h' has had to do,

Turn'd to as monstrous figures too ;

Witness myself, whom h' has abus'd, 395

And to this beastly shape reduc'd,

By feeding me on beans and pease

He crams in nasty crevices,

And turns to comfits by his arts,

To make me relish for deserts, 400

And one by one, with shame and fear,

Lick up the candy 'd provender.

Beside — But as h' was running on,

To tell what other feasts h' had done,

The Lady stopt his full career, 4cs

And told him now 'twas time to hear.

If half those things (said she) be true —

They 're all (quoth he), I swear by you : —

Why then (said she) that Sidrophel

Has damn'd himself to th' pit of hell, 410

Who, mounted on a broom, the nag

And hackney of a Lapland hag,

In quest of you came hither post,

Within an hour (I'm sure) at most,

Who told me all you swear and say, 415

Quite contrary another way ;

Vow'd that you came to him, to know

If you should carry me or no ;

And would have hir'd him and his imps,

To be your match-makers and pimps, 420

T' engage the devil on your side,

And steal (like Proserpine) your bride ;

But he disdaining to embrace

So filthy a design and base,

You fell to vapouring and huffing, 425

240

HUDIBRAS.

And drew upon him like a ruffin ;

Surprised him meanly, unprepar'd,

Before h' had time to mount his guard,

And left him dead upon the ground,

With many a bruise and desp'rate wound : 430

Swore you had broke and robb'd his house,

And stole his talismanic louse,

And all his new-found old inventions,

With flat felonious- intentions ;

Which he could bring- out where he had, 43.5

And what he bought them for, and paid :

His flea, his morpion, and punese,

H' had gotten for his proper ease,

And all in perfect minutes made,

By th' ablest artist of the trade ; 410

Which (he could prove it) since he lost

He has been eaten up almost ;

And altogether might amount

To many hundreds on account :

For which h' had got sufficient warrant 415

To seize the malefactors errant,

Without capacity of bail,

But of a cart's or horse's tail ;

And did not doubt to bring the wretches

To serve for pendulums to watches ; *so

Which, modern virtuosis say,

Incline to hanging every way.

Beside, he swore, and swore 'twas true,

That ere he went in quest of you,

He set a figure to discover 455

If you were fled to Rye or Dover ;

And found it clear that, to betray

Yourselves and me, you fled this way ;

And that he was upon pursuit,

PART III. CANTO I. 241

To take you somewhere hereabout. 460

He vow'd he had intelligence

Of all that pass'd before and since,

And found that, ere you came to him,

Yf had been engaging life and limb

About a case of tender conscience, 465

Where both abounded in your own sense,

Till Ralpho, by his light and grace,

Had clear'd all scruples in the case ;

And prov'd that you might swear and own

Whatever 's by the Wicked done ; 470

For which, most basely to requite

The service of his gifts and light,

You strove t' oblige him, by main force,

To scourge his ribs instead of yours ;

But that he stood upon his guard, 475

And all your vapouring out-dar'd ;

For which, between you both, the feat

Has never been perform'd as yet.

While thus the Lady talk'd, the Knight
Turn'd th' outside of his eyes to white 48o

(As men of inward light are wont

To turn their optics in upon 't) ;

He wonder'd how she came to know

What he had done, and meant to do :

Held up his affidavit-hand, 435

As if h' had been to be arraign'd ;

Cast towards the door a ghastly look,

In dread of Sidrophel, and spoke :
Madam, if but one word be true

Of all the wizard has told you, 490

Or but one single circumstance

In all th' apocryphal romance,

May dreadful earthquakes swallow down
VOL. i. R

242 IIUDIBRAS.

This vessel, that is all your own ;

Or may the heavens fall and cover 4;«

These reliques of your constant lover.

You have provided well (quoth she),
(I thank you) for yourself and me,
And shewn your Presbyterian wits
Jump punctual with the Jesuits' ; 500

A most compendious way and civil,
At once to cheat the world, the devil,
And heaven and hell, yourselves, and those
On whom you vainly think t' impose.
Why then (quoth he), may hell surprise — 505
That trick (said she) will not pass twice :
I've learn'd how far I'm to believe
Your pinning- oaths upon your sleeve ;
But there 's a better way of clearing-
What you would prove, than downright swearing- ;
For if you have perform'd the feat,
The blows are visible as yet,
Enough to serve for satisfaction
Of nicest scruples in the action ;
And if you can produce those knobs, 515

Although they're but the witch's drubs,
I'll pass them all upon account,
As if your nat'ral self had done 't ;
Provided that they pass th' opinion
Of able juries of old women ; seo

Who, us'd to judge all matter of facts
For bellies, may do so for backs.

Madam (quoth he), your love 's a million,
To do is less than to be willing,
As I am, were it in my power 525

T' obey what you command, and more ;
But for performing what you bid,

PART III. CANTO I. 243

I thank you as much as if I did.

You know I ought to have a care

To keep my wounds from taking air ; 530

For wounds in those that are all heart,

Are dangerous in any part.

I find (quoth she) my goods and chattels
Are like to prove but mere drawn battles ;
For still the longer we contend, 535

We are but farther off the end ;
But granting now we should agree,
What is it you expect from me ?
Your plighted faith (quoth he) and word
You past in heaven on record, 540

Where all contracts, to have and t' hold,
Are everlastingly enroll'd ;
And if 'tis counted treason here
To raze records, 'tis much more there.

Quoth she, There are no bargains driv'n, 5*5
Nor marriages clapp'd up in heav'n,
And that 's the reason, as some guess,
There is no heav'n in marriages ;
Two things that naturally press
Too narrowly to be at ease ; 550

Their bus'ness there is only love,
Which marriage is not like t' improve ;
Love, that 's too generous t' abide
To be against its nature ty'd ;
For where 'tis of itself inclin'd, 555

It breaks loose when it is confin'd,
And like the soul, its harbourer,
Debarr'd the freedom of the air,
Disdains against its will to stay,
But struggles out and flies away ; 560

And therefore never can comply

244 HUDIBRAS.

T* endure the matrimonial tie,

That binds the female and the male,

Where th' one is but the other's bail ;

Like Roman gaolers, when they slept 565

Chain'd to the prisoners they kept.

Of which the true and faithful'st lover,

Gives best security to suffer.

Marriage is but a beast some say,

That carries double in foul way, 570

And therefore 'tis not to b' admir'd

It should so suddenly be tir'd :

A bargain, at a venture made,

Between two partners in a trade ;

(For what 's inferr'd by t' have and t' hold, 575

But something past away, and sold ?)

That, as it makes but one of two,

Reduces all things else as low ;

And at the best is but a mart,

Between the one and th' other part, s«o

That on the marriage-day is paid,

Or hour of death, the bet is laid ;

And all the rest of better or worse,

Both are but losers out of purse :

For when upon their ungot heirs 5«5

Th' entail themselves, and all that 's theirs,

What blinder bargain e'er was driv'n,

Or wager laid at six and sev'n ?

To pass themselves away, and turn

Their children's tenants ere they're born ? 590

Beg one another idiot

To guardians, ere they are begot;

Or ever shall, perhaps, by th' one

Who 's bound to vouch 'em for his own,

Though got b' implicit generation, 595

PART III. CANTO I. 245

And gen'ral club of all the nation ;

For which she 's fortify 'd no less

Than all the island, with four seas j

Exacts the tribute of her dower,

In ready insolence and power, Coo

And makes him pass away, to have

And hold, to her, himself, her slave,

More wretched than an ancient villain,

Condemn'd to drudgery and tilling- :

While all he does upon the by, 605

She is not bound to justify,

Nor at her proper cost and charge

Maintain the feats he does at large.

Such hideous sots were those obedient

Old vassals, to their ladies regent, 610

To give the cheats the eldest hand

In foul play, by the laws o' th' land ;

For which so many a legal cuckold

Has been run down in courts, and truckled :

A law that most unjustly yokes oio

All Johns of Stiles to Joans of Noakes,

Without distinction of degree,

Condition, age, or quality;

Admits no pow'r of revocation,

Nor valuable consideration, 620

Nor writ of Error, nor reverse

Of judgment past, for better or worse ;

Will not allow the privileges

That beggars challenge under hedges,

Who, when they're griev'd, can make dead horses

Their sp'ritual judges of divorces,

While nothing else but rem in re

Can set the proudest wretches free ;

A slavery beyond enduring,

246 HUDIBRAS.

But that 'tis of their own procuring1. 6.10

As spiders never seek the fly,

But leave him of himself t' apply ;

So men are by themselves employ 'd,

To quit the freedom they enjoy 'd,

And run their necks into a noose, G<5

They'd break 'em after to break loose.

As some whom death would not depart,

Have done the feat themselves by art :

Like Indian widows, gone to bed,

In flaming- curtains, to the dead ; 640

And men as often dangled for 't,

And yet will never leave the sport.

Nor do the ladies want excuse

For all the stratagems they use,

To gain th' advantage of the set, 64.3

And lurch the amorous rook and cheat.

For as the Pythagorean soul

Runs through all beasts, and fish, and fowl,

And has a smack of ev'ry one,

So love does, and has ever done ; 650

Arid therefore though 'tis ne'er so fond,

Takes strangely to the vagabond.

'Tis but an ague that 's reverst,

Whose hot fit takes the patient first,

That after burns with cold as much 655

As iron in Greenland does the touch ;

Melts in the furnace of desire

Like glass, that 's but the ice of fire ;

And when his heat of fancy's over,

Becomes as hard and frail a lover : 660

For when he 's with love-powder laden,

And prim'd and cock'd by Miss or Madam,

The smallest sparkle of an eye

PART III. CANTO I. 247

Gives fire to his artillery,

And off the loud oaths go, but, while <?-•;•

They're in the very act, recoil :

Hence 'tis so few dare take their chance

Without a sep'rate maintenance ;

And widows, who have try'd one lover,

Trust none again till they've made over ; 670

Or if they do, before they marry

The foxes weigh the geese they carry ;

And ere they venture o'er a stream,

Know how to size themselves and them.

Whence wittiest ladies always choose fi?5

To undertake the heaviest goose :

For now the world is grown so wary,

That few of either sex dare marry,

But rather trust on tick t' amours,

The cross and pile for bett'r or worse ; 6ao

A mode that is held honourable

As well as French and fashionable :

For when it falls out for the best,

Where both are incommoded least,

In soul and body two unite 6«5

To make up one hermaphrodite ;

Still amorous, and fond, and billing,

Like Philip and Mary on a shilling,

They've more punctilios and capriches

Between the petticoat and breeches ; 690

More petulant extravagances

Than poets make 'em in romances ;

Though when their heroes 'spouse the dames,

We hear no more of charms and flames ;

For then their late attracts decline 6,5

And turn as eager as prick'd wine ;

And all their caterwauling tricks,

248

HUDIBRA9.

In earnest to as jealous piques :

Which th' ancients wisely signify'd

By th' yellow manteaus of the bride ; 700

For jealousy is but a kind

Of clap and grincam of the mind,

The natural effects of love,

As other flames and aches prove :

But all the mischief is the doubt 705

On whose account they first broke out.

For though Chineses go to bed

And lie-in, in their ladies' stead ;

And, for the pains they took before,

Are nurs'd and pamper'd to do more ; 710

Our green-men do it worse, when th' hap

To fall in labour of a clap ;

Both lay the child to one another,

But who 's the father? who the mother?

'Tis hard to say in multitudes, 715

Or who imported the French goods.

But health and sickness b'ing all one,

Which both engag'd before to own,

And are not with their bodies bound

To worship, only when they're sound ; 720

Both give and take their equal shares

Of all they suffer by false wares ;

A fate no lover can divert

With all his caution, wit, and art :

For 'tis in vain to think to guess 725

At women by appearances ;

That paint and patch their imperfections,

Of intellectual complexions,

And daub their tempers o'er with washes

As artificial as their faces : 7*0

Wear, under vizard-masks, their talents

PART III. CANTO I. 249

And mother-wits, before their gallants ;

Until they're hamper'd in the noose,

Too fast to dream of breaking loose :

When all the flaws they strove to hide 7J5

Are made unready with the bride,

That with her wedding-clothes undresses

Her complaisance and gentilesses ;

Tries all her arts to take upon her

The government from th' easy owner ; 740

Until the wretch is glad to wave

His lawful right, and turn her slave ;

Find all his having and his holding

Reduc'd t' eternal noise and scolding ;

The conjugal petard, that tears 745

Down all portcullices of ears,

And makes the volley of one tongue

For all their leathern shields too strong.

When only ann'd with noise and nails,

The female silk-worms ride the males ; 750

Transform 'em into rams and goats

Like Syrens, with their charming notes ;

Sweet as a screech-owl's serenade,

Or those enchanting murmurs made

By th' husband mandrake, and the wife, 755

Both bury'd (like themselves) alive.

Quoth he, These reasons are but strains
Of wanton, over-heated brains,
Which ralliers in their wit or drink
Do rather wheedle with than think. 760

Man was not man in Paradise,
Until he was created twice ;
And had his better half, his bride,
Carv'd from th' original, his side,
T' amend his natural defects, 765

250

HUDIBRAS.

And perfect his recruiting sex ;
Enlarge his breed at once, and lessen
The pains and labour of increasing,
By changing them for other cares,
As by his dried-up paps appears. 770

His body, that stupendous frame,
Of all the world the anagram,
Is of two equal parts compact,
In shape and symmetry exact ;
Of which the left and female side 775

Is to the manly right a bride ;
Both join'd together with such art,
That nothing else but death can part.
Those heav'nly attracts of yours, your eyes,
And face, that all the world surprise, ?PO

That dazzle all that look upon ye,
And scorch all other ladies tawny ;
Those ravishing and charming graces,
Are all made up of two half- faces,
That, in a mathematic line, 785

Like those in other heavens, join:
Of which, if either grew alone,
'Twould fright as much to look upon :
And so would that sweet bud, your lip,
Without the other's fellowship. 790

Our noblest senses act by pairs,
Two eyes to see ; to hear, two ears ;
Th' intelligencers of the mind,
To wait upon the soul design'd :
But those that serve the body' alone ?ys

Are single and confin'd to one.
The world is but two parts, that meet
And close at th' equinoctial fit ;
And so are all the works of Nature,

PART III. CANTO I. 251

Stamp'd with her signature on matter ; soo

Which all her creatures, to a leaf,

Or smallest blade of grass, receive.

All which sufficiently declare

How entirely marriage is her care,

The only method that she uses po.5

In all the wonders she produces ;

And those that take their rules from her

Can never be deceiv'd, nor err :

For what secures the civil life,

But pawns of children, and a wife ? sio

That lie, like hostages, at stake,

To pay for all men undertake ;

To whom it is as necessary,

As to be born and breathe, to marry ;

So universal, all mankind sis

In nothing else is of one mind ;

For in what stupid age or nation

Was marriage ever out of fashion ?

Unless among the Amazons,

Or cloister'd Friars and Vestal nuns, bco

Or Stoics, who, to bar the freaks

And loose excesses of the sex,

Prepost'rously would have all women

Turn'd up to all the world in common.

Though men would find such mortal feuds ses

In sharing of their public goods,

Twould put them to more charge of lives

Than they 're supply'd with now by wives,

Until they graze, and wear their clothes,

As beasts do, of their native growths ; 830

For simple wearing of their horns

Will not suffice to serve their turns.

For what can we pretend t' inherit,

2,52

HUDIBRAS.

Unless the marriage-deed will bear it ?

Could claim no right to lands or rents, 835

But for our parents' settlements ;

Had been but younger sons o' th' earth

Debarr'd it all, but for our birth.

What honours, or estates of peers,

Could be preserv'd but by their heirs ? s^o

And what security maintains

Their right and title, but the banns ?

What crowns could be hereditary,

If greatest monarchs did not marry,

And with their consorts consummate 84.->

Their weightiest interests of state ?

For all th' amours of princes are

But guarantees of peace or war.

Or what but marriage has a charm,

The rage of empires to disarm ? sso

Make blood and desolation cease,

And fire and sword unite in peace ;

When all their fierce contests for forage

Conclude in articles of marriage.

Nor does the genial bed provide 855

Less for the int'rests of the bride,

Who else had not the least pretence

T' as much as due benevolence ;

Could no more title take upon her

To virtue, quality, and honour, 860

Than ladies errant unconfin'd,

And feme-coverts to all mankind.

All women would be of one piece,

The virtuous matron, and the miss ;

The nymphs of chaste Diana's train, 865

The same with those in Lewkner's lane ;

But for the diff'rence marriage makes

PART III. CANTO I. 253

'Twixt wives and ladies of the Lakes :

Besides the joys of place and birth,

The sex's paradise on earth, 8?e

A privilege so sacred held

That none will to their mothers yield,

But, rather than not go before,

Abandon heaven at the door :

And if th' indulgent law allows s?5

A greater freedom to the spouse,

The reason is, because the wife

Runs greater hazards of her life ;

Is trusted with the form and matter

Of all mankind by careful Nature ; aso

Where man brings nothing but the stuff

She frames the wondrous fabric of;

Who therefore, in a strait, may freely

Demand the clergy of her belly ;

And make it save her the same way 885

It seldom misses to betray,

Unless both parties wisely enter

Into the Liturgy indenture.

And though some fits of small contest

Sometimes fall out among the best, 890

That is no more than every lover

Does from his hackney-lady suffer ;

That makes no breach of faith and love,

But rather sometimes serves t' improve :

For as, in running, every pace sys

Is but between two legs a race,

In which both do their uttermost

To get before and win the post,

Yet, when they're at their races' ends,

They're still as kind and constant friends, you

And, to relieve their weariness,

254 HUD1BRAS.

By turns give one another ease ;

So all those false alarms of strife

Between the husband and the wife,

And little quarrels, often prove 905

To be but new recruits of love,

When those who 're always kind or coy

In time must either tire or cloy.

Nor are the loudest clamours more

Than as they're relish'd sweet or sour; 910

Like music, that proves bad or good

According as 'tis understood.

In all amours a lover burns

With frowns, as well as smiles, by turns;

And hearts have been as oft with sullen yin

As charming looks surpris'd and stolen :

Then why should more bewitching clamour

Some lovers not as much enamour ?

For discords make the sweetest airs,

And curses are a kind of pray'rs ; yso

Two slight alloys for all those grand

Felicities by marriage gain'd :

For nothing else has power to settle

The interests of love perpetual.

An act and deed that makes one heart ges

Become another's counter-part,

And passes fines on faith and love,

Inroll'd and register'd above,

To seal the slippery knots of vows,

Which nothing else but death can loose. i;s.»

And what security 's too strong

To guard that gentle heart from wrong

That to its friend is glad to pass

Itself away and all it has,

And, like an anchorite, gives over 935

PART III. CANTO I. 255

This world for th' heaven of a lover ?

I grant (quoth she) there are some few
Who take that course, and find it true,
But millions whom the same does sentence
To heav'n b' another way, repentance. 9*0

Love's arrows are but shot at rovers,
Though all they hit they turn to lovers,
And all the weighty consequents
Depend upon more blind events
Than gamesters, when they play a set &45

With greatest cunning at Piquet,
Put out with caution, but take in
They know not what, unsight unseen.
For what do lovers, when they're fast
In one another's arms embrac'd, 950

But strive to plunder, and convey
Each other, like a prize, away ?
To change the property of selves,
As sucking children are by elves ?
And if they use their persons so, 955

What will they to their fortunes do ?
Their fortunes ! the perpetual aims
Of all their ecstasies and flames.
For when the money 's on the book,
And * All my worldly goods' but spoke <jdo

(The formal livery and seisin
That puts a lover in possession),
To that alone the bridegroom's wedded,
The bride a flam that 's superseded :
To that their faith is still made good, ut'o

And all the oaths to us they vow'd ;
For when we once resign our pow'rs,
We've nothing left We can call ours ;
Our money 's now become the Miss

256 HUDIBRAS.

Of all your lives and services, 970

And we, forsaken and postpon'd,

But bawds to what before we own'd ;

Which, as it made y' at first gallant us,

So now hires others to supplant us,

Until 'tis all turn'd out of doors 975

(As we had been) for new amours.

For what did ever heiress yet,

By being born to lordships, get?

When, the more lady she 's of manors,

She's but expos'd to more trepanners, gso

Pays for their projects and designs,

And for her own destruction fines ;

And does but tempt them with her riches,

To use her as the dev'l does witches,

Who takes it for a special grace yes

To be their cully for a space,

That, when the time's expir'd, the drazels

For ever may become his vassals ;

So she, bewitch'd by rooks and spirits,

Betrays herself and all sh' inherits ; 900

Is bought and sold, like stolen goods,

By pimps, and match-makers, and bawds ;

Until they force her to convey

And steal the thief himself away.

These are the everlasting fruits 9>j5

Of all your passionate love-suits,

Th' effects of all your am'rous fancies

To portions and inheritances ;

Your love-sick rapture, for fruition

Of dowry, jointure, and tuition; uoo

To which you make address and courtship,

And with your bodies strive to worship,

That th' infant's fortunes may partake

PART III. CANTO I. 257

Of love too for the mother's sake.
For these you play at purposes, iocs

And love your loves with A's and B's ;
For these at Beste and L'Ombre woo.
And play for love and money too :
Strive who shall bo the ablest man
At right gallanting of a fan ; 1010

And who the most genteelly bred
At sucking of a vizard-bead ;
How best t' accost us in all quarters,
T our question-and-command new garters ;
And solidly discourse upon 1015

All sorts of dresses pro and con :
For there 's no mystery nor trade
But in the art of love is made ;
And when you have more debts to pay
Than Michaelmas and Lady-day, 1020

And no way possible to do 't
But love and oaths, and restless suit,
To us y' apply to pay the scores
Of all your cully'd past amours ;
Act o'er your flames and darts again, 10^5

And charge us with your wounds and pain,
Which others' influences long since
Have charm'd your noses with and shins,
For which the surgeon is unpaid,
And like to be without our aid. io3«

Lord ! what an am'rous thing is want !
How debts and mortgages inchant !
What graces must that lady have
That can from executions save !
What charms that can reverse extent, 1035

And null decree and exigent !
What magical attracts and graces
VOL. i. s

258 HUDIBRAS.

That can redeem from Scire facias,

From bonds and statutes can discharge,

And from contempts of courts enlarge ! 1040

These are the highest excellences

Of all your true or false pretences ;

And you would damn yourselves, and swear

As much t' an hostess dowager,

Grown fat and pursy by retail 1045

Of pots of beer and bottled ale,

And find her fitter for your turn,

For fat is wondrous apt to burn ;

Who at your flames would soon take fire,

Relent and melt to your desire, n 50

And, like a candle in the socke*t,

Dissolve her graces int' your pocket.

By this time 'twas grown dark and late,
When they' heard a knocking at the gate,
Laid on in haste, with such a powder, 1055

The blows grew louder still and louder ;
Which Hudibras, as if they 'd been
Bestow'd as freely on his skin,
Expounding by his inward light,
Or rather more prophetic fright, 1060

To be the Wizard come to search,
And take him napping in the lurch,

1053 1054 jjje persons who knocked at the gate were, pro-
bably, two of the lady's own servants: for as she and
Ralpho (who all the time lay in ambuscade) had been des-
canting on the Knight's villanies, so they had undoubtedly
laid this scheme to be revenged of him : the servants were
disguised, and acted in a bold and hectoring manner, pur-
suant to the instructions given them by the Widow. The
Knight was to be made believe they were Sidrophel and
Whachum, which made his fright and consternation so great
that we find him falling into a swoon.

PART III. CANTO I. 259

Turn'd pale as ashes or a clout,

But why or wherefore is a doubt ;

For men will tremble, and turn paler, 1065

With too much or too little valour.

His heart laid on, as if it try'd

To force a passage through his side,

Impatient (as he vow'd) to wait 'em,

But in a fury to fly at 'em ; 1070

And therefore beat and laid about,

To find a cranny to creep out.

But she, who saw in what a taking

The Knight was by his furious quaking,

Undaunted cry'd, Courage, Sir Knight, 1075

Know I'm resolv'd to break no rite

Of hospital'ty to a stranger,

But, to secure you out of danger,

Will here myself stand sentinel

To guard this pass 'gainst Sidrophel. i<«o

Women, you know, do seldom fail

To make the stoutest men turn tail,

And bravely scorn to turn their backs

Upon the desp'ratest attacks.

At this the Knight grew resolute loss

As Ironside or Hardiknute ;

His fortitude began to rally,

And out he cry'd aloud to sally :

But she besought him to convey

His courage rather out o' th' way, 1090

And lodge in ambush on the floor,

Or fortify'd behind a door,

That, if the enemy should enter,

ioR6 jwo famous an(j valiant princes of this country, the
one a Saxon, the other a Dane.

260

HUDIBKAS.

He might relieve her in th' adventure.

Meanwhile they knock'd against the door 1095
As fierce as at the gate before ;
Which made the renegado Knight
Relapse again t' his former fright.
He thought it desperate to stay
Till th' enemy had forc'd his way, no»

But rather post himself, to serve
The Lady for a fresh reserve.
His duty was not to dispute,
But what sh' had order'd execute ;
Which he resolv'd in haste t' obey, 1105

And therefore stoutly march'd away,
And all h' encounter'd fell upon,
Though in the dark, and all alone ;
Till fear, that braver feats performs
Than ever courage dar'd in arms, mo

Had drawn him up before a pass,
To stand upon his guard, and face :
This he courageously invaded,
And, having enter'd, barricaded ;
Insconc'd himself as formidable ms

As could be underneath a table,
Where he lay down in ambush close r
T' expect th' arrival of his foes.
Few minutes he had lain perdue,
To guard his desp'rate avenue, i

Before he heard a dreadful shout,
As loud as putting to the rout,
With which impatiently alarm 'd,
He fancy'd th' enemy had storm 'd,
And, after ent'ring, Sidrophel nc*

Was fall'n upon the guards pell-mell :
He therefore seat out all his senses

PART III. CANTO I. 261

To bring him in intelligences,

Which vulgars, out of ignorance,

Mistake for falling in a trance ; use

But those that trade in geomancy

Affirm to be the strength of fancy,

In which the Lapland Magi deal,

And things incredible reveal.

Meanwhile the foe beat up his quarters, 1135

And storm 'd the outworks of his fortress ;

And as another of the same

Degree and party in arms and fame,

That in the same cause had engag'd,

And war with equal conduct wag'd, 1140

By vent'ring only but to thrust

His head a span beyond his post,

B' a general of the Cavaliers

Was dragg'd through a window by the ears ;

So he was serv'd in his redoubt, 1145

And by the other end pull'd out.

Soon as they had him at their mercy,
They put him to the cudgel fiercely,
As if they'd scorn'd to trade or barter,
By giving or by taking quarter ; 1150

They stoutly on his quarters laid,
Until his scouts came in t' his aid :
For when a man is past his sense,
There 's no way to reduce him thence
But twinging him by th' ears or nose, 1155

Or laying on of heavy blows ;
And, if that will not do the deed,
To burning with hot irons proceed.
No sooner was he come t' himself,
But on his neck a sturdy elf 1160

Clapp'd, in a trice, his cloven hoof,

262 HUDIBRAS.

And thus attack'd him with reproof:

Mortal, thou art betray'd to us
B' our friend, thy evil genius,
Who, for thy horrid perjuries, 1165

Thy breach of faith, and turning lies,
The Brethren's privilege (against
The Wicked), on themselves, the Saints,
Has here thy wretched carcase sent
For just revenge and punishment, 1170

Which thou hast now no way to lessen
But by an open free confession ;
For if we catch thee failing once,
'Twill fall the heavier on thy bones.

What made thee venture to betray 1175

And filch the Lady's heart away,
To spirit her to matrimony ? —
That which contracts all matches, money.
It was th' inchantment of her riches
That made m' apply t' your crony witches ; uso
That in return would pay th' expense,
The wear and tear of conscience,
Which i could have patch'd up and turn'd
For th' hundredth part of what I earn'd. —

Didst thou not love her then ? speak true. —
No more (quoth he) than I love you. —
How would'st thou 'ave us'd her and her money? —
First turn'd her up to alimony,
And laid her dowry out in law
To null her jointure with a flaw, 1190

Which I beforehand had agreed
T' have put on purpose in the deed,
And bar her widow's making over
T' a friend in trust, or private lover. —

What made thee pick and choose her out 119*

j

PART III. CANTO I. 263

T employ their sorceries about ? —

That which makes gamesters play with those

Who have least wit, and most to lose. —

But didst thou scourge thy vessel thus,

As thou hast damn'd thyself to us ? — icoo

I see you take me for an ass :
Tis true, I thought the trick would pass
Upon a woman well enough,
As 't has been often found by proof,
Whose humours are not to be won 1205

But when they are impos'd upon ;
For Love approves of all they do
That stand for candidates, and woo. —

Why didst thou forge those shameful lies
Of bears and witches in disguise ? — 1210

That is no more than authors give
The rabble credit to believe ;
A trick of following their leaders
To entertain their gentle readers :
And we have now no other way 1215

Of passing all we do or say ;
Which, when 'tis natural and true,
Will be believ'd b' a very few,
Beside the danger of offence,
The fatal enemy of sense. — 1220

Why didst thou choose that cursed sin,
Hypocrisy, to set up in ? —

Because it is the thriving'st calling,
The only saints'-bell that rings all in ;
In which all Churches are concern'd, 1225

And is the easiest to be learn'd :
For no degrees, unless they employ 't,
Can ever gain much or enjoy 't :
A gift that is not only able

264 HUDIBRAS.

To domineer among the rabble, 1230

But by the laws impower'd to rout

And awe the greatest that stand out ;

Which few hold forth against, for fear

Their hands should slip and come too near ;

For no sin else, among the Saints, i2.-*5

Is taught so tenderly against. —

What made thee break thy plighted vows ? —
That which makes others break a house,
And hang, and scorn you all, before
Endure the plague of being poor. 1240

Quoth he, 1 see you have more tricks
Than all our doting politics,
That are grown old and out of fashion,
Compar'd with your new Reformation ;
That we must come to school to you 1245

To learn your more refin'd and new.

Quoth he, If you will give me leave
To tell you what I now perceive,
You'll find yourself an errant chouse
If y' were but at a Meeting-house. 1250

Tis true (quoth he), we ne'er come there,
Because w' have let 'em out by th' year.

Truly (quoth he), you can't imagine
What wondrous things they will engage in ;
That as your fellow fiends in hell 1255

Were angels all before they fell,
So are you like to be agen
Compar'd with th' angels of us men.

Quoth he, I am resolv'd to be
Thy scholar in this mystery ; 1260

And therefore first desire to know
Some principles on which you go.

What makes a knave a child of God,

PART III. CANTO I. 265

And one of us ? — A livelihood. —

What renders beating out of brains 1265

And murther godliness? — Great gains.

What 's tender conscience ? — Tis a botch
That will not bear the gentlest touch;
But, breaking out, dispatches more
Than th' epidemical'st plague-sore. 1270

What makes y' incroach upon our trade,
And damn all others ? — To be paid. —
What 's orthodox and true believing
Against a conscience ? — A good living.

What makes rebelling against kings 1:75

A good old Cause ? — Administ'rings.

What makes all doctrines plain and clear ? —
About two hundred pounds a-year.

And that which was prov'd true before
Prove false again? — Two hundred more. icso

What makes the breaking of all oaths
A holy duty? — Food and clothes.

What laws and freedom persecution ? —
B'ing out of power and contribution.

\Vhat makes a church a den of thieves ? — 1285
A dean and Chapter and white sleeves.

And what would serve, if those were gone,
To make it orthodox ? — Our own.

What makes morality a crime
The most notorious of the time ; i?90

Morality, which both the Saints
And Wicked too cry out against ? —
'Cause grace and virtue are within
Prohibited degrees of kin ;

And therefore no true Saint allows 1295

They shall be suffer'd to espouse ;
For Saints can need no conscience

266 HUDIBRAS.

That with morality dispense ;

As virtue 's impious when 'tis rooted

In nature only, and not imputed : 1300

But why the Wicked should do so

We neither know, nor care to do.

What's liberty of conscience,
I' th' natural and genuine sense ? —
'Tis to restore with more security isos

Rebellion to its ancient purity ;
And Christian liberty reduce
To th' elder practice of the Jews :
For a large conscience is all one
And signifies the same with none. mo

It is enough (quoth he) for once,
And has repriev'd thy forfeit bones :
Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick
(Though he gave his name to our Old Nick)
But was below the least of these 1315

That pass i' th' world for holiness. .
This said, the Furies and the light
In th' instant vanish'd out of sight,
And left him in the dark alone,
With stinks of brimstone and his own. isso

The Queen of Night, whose large command
Rules all the sea and half the land,
And over moist and crazy brains,
In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns,
Was now declining to the west, 1325

To go to bed and take her rest ;
When Hudibras, whose stubborn blows
Deny'd his bones that soft repose,
Lay still, expecting worse and more,
Stretch'd out at length upon the floor ; 1.530

And, though he shut his eyes as fast

PART III. CANTO I. 267

As if h' had been to sleep his last,

Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards

Do make the devil wear for vizards,

And, pricking up his ears to hark IK:,

If he could hear too in the dark,

Was first invaded with a groan,

And after, in a feeble tone,

These trembling words : Unhappy wretch !

What hast thou gotten by this fetch, 1-540

Or all thy tricks, in this new trade,

Thy holy Brotherhood o' th' blade ?

By saunt'ring still on some adventure,

And growing to thy horse a Centaur ?

To stuff thy skin with swelling knobs 1345

Of cruel and hard -wooded drubs ?

For still th' hast had the worst on't yet,

As well in conquest as defeat.

Night is the sabbath of mankind,

To rest the body and the mind, 1350

Which now thou art deny'd to keep,

And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep.

The Knight, who heard the words, explain'd
As meant to him this reprimand,
Because the character did hit isss

Point-blank upon his case so fit ;
Believ'd it was some drolling spright
That stay'd upon the guard that night,
And one of those h' had seen, and felt
The drubs he had so freely dealt ; 1360

When, after a short pause and groan,
The doleful Spirit thus went on :

This 'tis t' engage with Dogs and Bears
Pell-mell together by the ears,
And, after painful bangs and knocks, 1365

268 HUDIBRAS.

To lie in limbo in the stocks,
And from the pinnacle of glory
Fall headlong into purgatory —

(Thought he, This devil 's full of malice,
That on my late disaster rallies ;) — 1370

Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it,
By being more heroic-minded ;
And at a riding handled worse,
With treats more slovenly and coarse ;
Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars, 1375

And hot disputes with conjurers;
And, when th' hadst bravely won the day,
Wast fain to steal thyself away —

(I see, thought he, this shameless elf
Would fain steal me too from myself, isso

That impudently dares to own
What I have suffer'd for and done) —
And now, but vent'ring to betray,
Hast met with vengeance the same way.

Thought he, How does the devil know 1335

What 'twas that I design'd to do ?
His office of intelligence,
His oracles are ceas'd long since ;
And he knows nothing of the Saints,
But what some treach'rous spy acquaints. 1390
This is some pettifogging fiend,
Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,
That undertakes to understand,
And juggles at the second-hand,
And now would pass for Spirit Po, 1395

And all men's dark concerns foreknow.
I think I need not fear him for 't ;
These rallying devils do no hurt.
With that he rous'd his drooping heart,

PART III. CANTO 1. 269

And hastily cry'd out, What art ? 1400

A wretch (quoth he) whom want of grace

Has brought to this unhappy place. —

I do believe thee, quoth the Knight ;

Thus far I'm sure thou'rt in the right,

And know what 'tis that troubles thee 1405

Better than thou hast guess'd of me.

Thou art some paltry blackguard spright,

Condemn'd to drudg'ry in the night ;

Thou hast no work to do in th' house,

Nor halfpenny to drop in shoes ; uio

Without the raising of which sum

You dare not be so troublesome,

To pinch the slatterns black and blue,

For leaving you their work to do.

This is your bus'ness, good Pug-Robin, ui5

And your diversion dull diy bobbing,

T' entice fanatics in the dirt,

And wash 'em clean in ditches for 't ;

Of which conceit you are so proud,

At ev'ry jest you laugh aloud, uco

As now you would have done by me,

But that I barr'd your raillery.

Sir (quoth the Voice), y' are no such sophi
As you would have the world judge of ye.
If you design to weigh our talents 1425

I' th' standard of your own false balance,
Or think it possible to know
Us ghosts, as well as we do you,
We who have been the everlasting
Companions of your drubs and basting, uso

And never left you in contest,
With male or female, man or beast,
But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire,

270 HUDIBRAS.

In all adventures as your Squire.

Quoth he, That may be said as true 1.435

By th' idlest pug of all your crew :

For none could have betray'd us worse

Than those allies of ours and yours.

But I have sent him for a token

To your low country Hogen-Mogen, 1040

To whose infernal shores I hope

He'll swing like skippers in a rope :

And if y' have been more just to me

(As I am apt to think) than he,

I am afraid it is as true 1445

What th' ill-affected say of you ;

Ye've 'spous'd the Covenant and Cause,

By holding up your cloven paws.

Sir (quoth the Voice), 'tis true I grant,

We made and took the Covenant ; 1 1 ,,o

But that no more concerns the Cause,
Than other perj'ries do the laws,

Which, when they 're prov'd in open court,

Wear wooden peccadilloes for 't :

And that 's the reason Cov'nanters i ±55

Hold up their hands like rogues at bars.

I see (quoth Hudibras) from whence
These scandals of the Saints commence,
That are but natural effects

Of Satan's malice and his sects, HOG

Those spider-saints that hang by threads
Spun out o' th' entrails of their heads.

Sir (quoth the Voice), that may as true
And properly be said of you,
Whose talents may compare with either, 1165

Or both the other put together :
For all the Independents do

PART III. CANTO I. 171

Is only what you forc'd 'em to ;

You, who are not content alone

With tricks to put the devil down, 1470

But must have armies rais'd to back

The gospel- work you undertake ;

As if artillery and edge-tools

Were th' only engines to save souls :

While he, poor devil, has no pow'r 1475

By force to run down and devour ;

Has ne'er a Classis, cannot sentence

To stools, or poundage of repentance ;

Is ty'd up only to design

T' entice and tempt and undermine : 1480

In which you all his arts outdo,

And prove yourselves his betters too.

Hence 'tis possessions do less evil

Than mere temptations of the devil,

Which all the horrid'st actions done 1435

Are charg'd in courts of law upon ;

Because, unless they help the elf,

He can do little of himself;

And therefore where he 's best possest

Acts most against his interest ; 1490

Surprises none but those who Ve priests

To turn him out, and exorcists,

Supply 'd with spiritual provision,

And magazines of ammunition ;

With crosses, relics, crucifixes, u..s

Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes ;

The tools of working out salvation

By mere mechanic operation :

With holy water, like a sluice,

To overflow all avenues : 1500

But those who 're utterly unarm'd,

272 HUDIBRAS.

T' oppose his entrance if he storm'd,

He never offers to surprise,

Although his falsest enemies ;

But is content to be their drudge, 1505

And on their errands glad to trudge :

For where are all your forfeitures

Intrusted in safe hands, but ours ?

Who are but jailors of the holes

And dungeons where you clap up souls ; 1510

Like under-keepers, turn the keys

T' your mittimus anathemas,

And never boggle to restore

The members you deliver o'er,

Upon demand, with fairer justice 1515

Than all your covenanting Trustees ;

Unless, to punish them the worse,

You put them in the secular pow'rs,

And pass their souls, as some demise

The same estate in mortgage twice ; 1520

When to a legal utlegation

You turn your excommunication,

And for a groat unpaid that 's due,

Distrain on soul and body too.

Thought he, Tis no mean part of civil 1525

State-prudence to cajole the devil,
And not to handle him too rough,
When h' has us in his cloven hoof.

'Tis true (quoth he), that intercourse
Has pass'd between your friends and ours, I.MO
That, as you trust us, in our way,
To raise your members and to lay,
We send you others of our own,
Denounc'd to hang themselres or drown,
Or, frighted with our oratory, 1535

PART III. CANTO I. 273

To leap down headlong1 many a story ;

Have us'd all means to propagate

Your mighty interests of state,

Laid out our sp' ritual gifts to further

Your great designs of rage and murther : u n>

For if the Saints are nam'd from blood,

We only 've made that title good ;

And, if it were but in our power,

We should not scruple to do more,

And not be half a soul behind 1545

Of all Dissenters of mankind.

Right (quoth the Voice), and, as I scorn
To be ungrateful, in return
Of all those kind good offices,
I'll free you out of this distress, 1550

And set you down in safety, where
It is no time to tell you here.
The cock crows, and the morn draws on,
When 'tis decreed I must be gone ;
And if I leave you here till day, 1555

You'll find it hard to get away.
With that the Spirit grop'd about
To find th' inchanted hero out,
And try'd with haste to lift him up,
But found his forlorn hope, his crup, 1560

Unserviceable with kicks and blows
Receiv'd from harden'd hearted foes.
He thought to drag him by the heels,
Like Gresham- carte with legs for wheels ;
But fear, that soonest cures those sores, 1565

In danger of relapse to worse,
Came in t' assist him with its aid,
And up his sinking vessel weigh'd.
No sooner was he fit to trudge,

VOL. i. T

274

HUDIBRAS.

But both made ready to dislodge ; 2570

The Spirit hors'd him like a sack,

Upon the vehicle his back,

And bore him headlong into th' hall,

With some few rubs against the wall ;

Where, finding out the postern lock'd, 1575

And th' avenues as strongly block'd,

H' attack'd the window, storm'd the glass,

And in a moment gain'd the pass ;

Through which he dragg'd the worsted soldier's

Fore-quarters out by th' head and shoulders, ISBO

And cautiously began to scout

To find their fellow-cattle out ;

Nor was it half a minute's quest

Ere he retriev'd the champion's beast,

Ty'd to a pale, instead of rack, i<85

But ne'er a saddle on his back,

Nor pistols at the saddle bow,

Convey 'd away, the Lord knows how.

He thought it was no time to stay,

And let the night too steal away ; is-'o

But in a trice advanc'd the Knight

Upon the bare ridge, bolt upright,

And, groping out for Ralpho's jade,

He found the saddle too was stray'd,

And in the place a lump of soap, 1595

On which he speedily leap'd up ;

And, turning to the gate the rein,

He kick'd and cudgel'd on amain ;

While Hudibras with equal haste

On both sides laid about as fast, 1600

And spurr'd, as jockeys use to break,

1573 VAR. ' th' outer postern.'

PART III. CANTO I. 275

Or padders to secure, a neck :

Where let us leave 'em for a time,

And to their Churches turn our rhyme ;

To hold forth their declining state, 1605

Which now come near an even rate.

END OF VOL. I.

LONDON :

PRIMED BT C. VrurrriNCUAX, TOOK* COl KT.