THE POETICAL WORKS OF
SAMUEL BUTLER
VOLUME I
r
LONDON
BELL AND DALDY.YORK STREET
COVENT GARDEN
AH
v./
,t;*sk
-T^/%
TO THE REV. WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES,
CANON OP SALISBTJfiY, ETC.
^NHONOUR'D lay poor Butler's nameless
grave,
One line, the hand of pitying friendship
gave.
'Twas his-with pure confiding heart to trust
The flattering 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 cxhaustless hoard ;
Of keenest wisdom dallying with her scorn,
And playful jest of indignation born ;
And honest hatred of that godless creAV,
To king, to country ; — to themselves untrue :
The hands that laid the blameless mitre low,
That gave great Wcntworth to the headsman's
blow,
And theirs 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 KE>*'S neglected grave
At once the flowers of love and learning gave ;
VOL. i. b
Or when was heard, beneath each listening tree,
The lute sweet Archimage had lent to thce :
Say, while thy day was like a summer dream,
And musing leisure met thec by the stream,
Where thro' rich weeds the lulling waters crept,
And the huge forest's massive umbrage slept,
And, summon'd by thy harp's aerial spell,
The shadowy tribes came trooping from their cell ;
(For still 'twas thine, with all a poet's art,
To paint the living landscape of the heart ;
And still to nature's soft enchantments true,
Feel every charm, and catch each varying hue ;)
Couldst thou foresee how soon the poet's strain
Would wake its satire into truth again ;
How soon the still-revolving wheel of time
Recall the past — each folly, and each crime ;
Again the petty tyrant boast his flame,
And raise, on fancied ills, a patriot's name ;
How soon the trembling altar fade away,
The hallow'd temple prove the spoiler's prey ;
The throne its proud ancestral honours yield,
And faction shake the senate and the field ;
How folly seize, while bleeding freedom wept,
That sacred ark which jealous wisdom kept ;
Which, virtuous Falkland ! saw thy banners wave,
Which Somers lived, and Chatham died to save ;
While history points her awful page in vain,
And sees all Butler scorn'd, revive again.
J. V
BENHALL, Feb. 1835.
LIFE OF SAMUEL BUTLER.
BY THE EEV. JOHN MITFORD.
( AMU EL BUTLER, the author of
Jfudibras, was born in the parish of
Strensham, in Worcestershire, in
1612,1 and christened February the
14th. A. Wood says, that his father
was competently wealthy;2 but the anonymous
author of a life prefixed to his Poems describes
him as in the condition of a yeoman, possessing
a very small estate, and renting another ; who
with difficulty found means to educate his son at
the grammar-school at Worcester, under Mr.
Henry Bright, a man of high reputation as a
1 This date is contradicted by Charles Longueville, the son
of Butler's friend, and who declared that the poet was born in
1600. Nash dates his baptism Februarys, 1612, and says
it is entered in the writing of Nash's father, who was church
warden : he had four sons and three daughters ; the three
daughters and one son older than the poet.
2 Dr. Nash discovered that his father was owner of a
house and a little land, worth about £10 a year, still called
Butler's tenement, of which he has given an engraving in the
title-page of his first volume. A. Wood affirms that he had
a competent estate of nearly £300 a year, but held on lease
of Sir William Russel, lord of the manor of Strensham.
TOT,. T. b
VI LIFE OF BUTLER.
scholar, and a Prebendary of the Cathedral.
Butler is said to have gone from thence to Cam
bridge,3 with the character of a good scholar ;
but the period and place of his residence seem
alike unknown, and indeed it appears more than
doubtful whether he ever received the advantages
of an academical education.
For some time he was clerk to Mr. Jefferys, of
Earl's Coombe, in Worcestershire, an eminent jus
tice of the peace. He employed the ample leisure
which his situation afforded in study; while he
also cultivated the art* of painting and music.
" The Hogarth of Poetry," says Walpole, " was a
painter too : " his love of the pencil introduced 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
3 A. Wood had his information from Butler's brother ; some
of his neighbours sent him to Oxford. Mr. Longueville
asserted that Butler never resided at Oxford.
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 he has falsely
told of Rinaldo." — See Neve on the English Poets, p. 79.
LIFE OF BUTLER. vii
left so advantageous and honourable a situation
does not appear, but we find him domesticated
under the roof of Sir Samuel Luke, at Cople Hoo
farm, or Wood End, near Bedford, a gentleman of
a very ancient family, one of Cromwell's officers,
and a rigid Presbyterian. It is in this place and
at this time that he is said to have commenced his
celebrated 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.6
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 retreat
ing from the conflict of avarice and importunity,
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. c. 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
Bra}%" in the posthumous works, p. 285, but this ballad is
not proved to be genuine. Nash 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 Henry Rose-
well, of Ford Abbey, in Devonshire," but adds, " these would
be probable reasons to deprive Bedfordshire of the Hero, did
not Butler, in his Memoirs of 1C49, give the same descrip
tion of Sir SarKiid Luke, and in his Dunstable Downs, ex-
viii LIFE OF BUTLER.
he accepted the Secretaryship to Richard, Earl of
Carbury, Lord President of the Principality 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 friend
ship of the celebrated 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 multi
plicity of acquaintance. The accounts both of the
patronage of the Duke of Buckingham and the
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 Neal, who
denied Butler to be the author of Hudibras, has been men
tioned as the person intended. Vide Grey's Hudibras, ii.
105, 388, 1st edit. ; and Nash's Hudibras, vol. ii. p. 308,
that Whachum was meant for Sir George Wharton, 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. ix
Secretaryship are disbelieved by Dr. Johnson, on
the following grounds : — " Mr. Wycherley," says
Major Packe, " had always laid hold of any oppor-
• tunity 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 loyalty and wit, should suffer
in obscurity, and under the wants he did. The
duke always seemed to hearken to him with atten
tion enough, and after some time undertook to
recommend his pretentions 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 patron. 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 another kind of business, at
which he was more ready than to do good offices
to those of desert, though no one was better quali
fied than he, both in regard to his fortune and
understanding, to protect 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
confess, it appears more like a well-dressed fiction
X LIFE OF BUTLER.
of Wycherley's than the truth ; why the accidental
interruption 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
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 pro
duction which certainly covered their now fallen
enemies with all the derision and contempt 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 reward
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,
8 Some verses in the first edition of Hudibras were after
wards omitted for reasons of state, as
Did not the learned Glynne and Maynard,
To make good subjects traitors, strain hard.
Was not the king, by proclamation,
Declared a traitor through the nation.
9 See Prior's Dedication to his Poems.
LIFE OF BUTLER. XI
gave him reason to hope for places and employ
ments of value and credit, but he never received
them ; and the story of the king's presenting him
with a purse of three hundred guineas appears
also to rest on no competent authority. To com
pensate 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 say, whether Butler may
have been satisfied with the .approbation of the
people ; or hew fur 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 conjecture 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, in his sixty-ninth year, on
the 25th of September, 1680 j1 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. His grave was at the west-end of the
1 A. Wood says he died of a consumption ; Oldham says
he was carried off by a fever ; but as he was near three score
and ten, we may be spared any further investigation. Mr.
Longueville says he lived for some years in Rose Street,
Covent Garden, and probably died there: that notwithstand
ing his disappointments he was never reduced to want or
beggary, and that he did not die in any person's debt.
Xll LIFE OF BUTLER.
church-yard on the north side ; " his feet," says
Aubrey, " touch the wall ; his grave, two yards
distant from the pilaster of the door, by his desire
six foot deep. About twenty-five of his old ac
quaintances at his funeral, I myself being one."
The burial service was read over him by the
learned Dr. Simon Patrick, then Rector of the
parish, and afterwards Bishop of Ely. Dr. Johnson
says, that Mr. Lowndes of the Treasury, informed
Dr. Zachary Pearce,2 that 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 Dryden. About forty years after, Mr. Barber,
whose name is familiar to all persons conversant
with the literature of that time, who was a printer,
and Lord Mayor of London, erected a monument
in Westminster Abbey to the poet's memory ; the
inscription will prove how warmly he approved his
principles.4
2 See Granger's Biog. Hist, of England, vol. iv. p. 40.
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 fol
lowing distich in his Common-place Book:
To think how Spenser died, how Cowley mourn'd,
How Sutler'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.
Eespect to Dryden Sheffield justly paid,
And noble Villars honour'd Cowley's shade.
But whence this Barber? 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 ;
LIFE OF BUTLER. xiii
M.S.
SAMUELIS BUTLERT,
Qui Strenshamiae in agro Vigorn. nat. 1612,
obiit Lond. 1680.
Vir doctus imprimis, acer, integer ;
Operibus ingenii, non item prasmiis fcelix :
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 omnia,
Deessit etiam mortuo tumulus,
Hoc tandem posito marmore, curavit
Johannes- Barber, civis Londinensis, 1721.5
After his death, three small volumes were pub
lished bearing the title of his posthumous pieces in
verse and prose ; they are, however, all spurious,
except the ode on Duval and two of the prose
tracts : but the volumes subsequently given to the
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, 4 to. 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.
* 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 St. Paul's, Covent Garden, in 1786
(when the church was repaired), at the expense of some of
the parishioners, on the south side of the church (inside)
with the inscription, see Nash's Life of Butler, xiii. See en
graving of it in Nash's Life of Butler, p. xxxix. An en
graving of the monument in Westminster Abbey is in the
same work, p. 678. Within the last few years a marble
tablet has been erected to his memorv in the parish church
of his native village, Strensham, by John Taylor, Esq.,
who now owns the estate on which the poet was born.
xiv LIFE OF BUTLER.
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
it can but depress the living. There was some
thing 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 imita
tions.6 But Butler's heroics are poor stuff ; indeed
only doggerel made languid by heavy expletives.
This attempt in the change of his measure w;is
the sillier, not only as he acquired the mastery in
6 What genuine remains of Butler Thyer did not publish,
were all in the hands either of Dr. R. Farmer or Dr. Nash,
and had 'been seen by Atterbury. See Life by Nash, xvi.
James Massey, Esq. of Rosthern, Cheshire, had Butler's
Common Place Book. Some law cases from Coke upon
Littletoi, drawn up in Norman-French by Butler, were
bought by Dr. Nash of Butler's relation in Buckinghamshire.
He had also a French Dictionary compiled by him, and part
of a tragedy of Nero.
LIFE OF BUTLER. XV
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, inter
mixed 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 he is always in the wrong when there was
a possibility of his mistaking. I could not but
smile at his detecting Pope's plagiarisms about the
Westphalia hogs, when I reflected, that in a very
little time, when the chronology is not well at
tended to, your fine note about the ambergris will
be understood by every one as a ridicule upon it ;
and, indeed, an excellent one it is : notwithstand
ing, 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
7 See some excellent observations on this style of writing
in Retrosp. Rev. vol. iii. art.iv. ' Fuller's Church History.'
XVI LIFE OF BUTLER.
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. Fleet-
wood Shepherd to introduce him into his company
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 such stupidity and dulness, that hardly any
body could have believed him to be the author of
Hudibras, 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 personal history, of the poet by say-
8 A. Wood says, " Butler was a boon and witty com
panion, especially among the company he knew well."
LIFE OF BUTLER. xvii
ing, ' 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 History 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
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 story 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
9 See vol. iv. p. 38, &c. A mezzotint print of Lord Grey
has been altered to Butler.
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 ad
ventures of the Bear, of the Skimmington, Hudibras's conver
sations with the Lawyer and Sidrophel, and his long dispu
tations with Ralpho and the Widow.
XV111 LIFE OF BUTLER.
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 kind, consisting
in thoughts ridiculously dressed, in language much
above or below their dignity. The Splendid Shil
ling of Phillips, and the Hudibras of Butler are the
most obvious instances. Butler, however, depen
ded much on the ludicrous effect of his double
rhymes ; in other respects, to declare your senti
ments, he is rather a witty writer, than a hu
morous 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
2 Shenstone's Works, vol. ii. p. 182, third ed.
3 "Butler set out on too narrow a plan, and even that
LIFE OF BUTLER. XIX
lost. It is true that the poem abounds with
curious and uncommon learning, with original
thoughts, happy images, 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 har
monious colouring, is collected into short epigram
matic sentences, pointed apothegms, and unex
pected 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
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
design is not kept up. He 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 together, 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.
4 " Though scarcely any author was ever able to express
his thoughts in so few tcords as Butler, he often employs too
many thoughts on one subject, and thus becomes prolix after
XX LIFE OF BUTLER.
and witty sayings insures a constant recurrence to
its pages. As little can be added to the character
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 ori
ginal 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 existence ;
goes out in the pride of knighthood to redress
wrongs and defend virgins, to rescue captive prin
cesses, 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.'
an unusual manner." — See Hume's Hist, of England, vol. viii.
p. 337.
* Would not " reason " be the more proper word ?
LIFE OF BUTLEK. XXI
" 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 ten
derness, 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
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-
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 sus
picious pretences to learning that prevailed in his time, such
as astrology, sympathetic medicine, alchymy, transfusion of
VOL. I. C
XXll LIFE OF BUTLER.
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
brings 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
forth to action, with his Squire Ralpho, an inde
pendent 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
blood, trifling experimental philosophy, fortune-telling, in
credible relations of travellers, false wit and injudicious affec
tation of ornament to be found in the poets and romance
writers; thus he frequently alludes to Purchas's Pilgrims,
Sir K. Digby's books, Buhvar's Artificial Changeling, Brown's
Vulgar Errors, Burton's Melancholy, the early Transactions
of the Royal Society, &c."
LIFE OF BUTLER. XXlll
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
complicated and extensive question, the difficulty
is not to continue, but to end the controversy.
But whether it be, 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 sprightliness ; without which,
xxiv LIFE OF BUTLEH.
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.
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 wandering,
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
LIFE OF BUTLER. XXV
employs his mind, he shows 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
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
XXVI LIFE OF BUTLER
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 : 7 but
human works are not easily found without a
perishable part. Of the ancient poets every
reader feels the mythology tedious and oppres
sive; of Hudibras, the manners being founded on
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 in
cident is made the most of: his bye-play always tells. Many
ef 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 SirW. Davenant's Gondibert.
There is always an undercurrent of satiric allusion beneath
the main stream of his satire. The juggling of astrology, the
besetting folly of alchymy, the transfusion of blood, the sym
pathetic medicines, the learned trifling of experimental phi
losophers, the knavery of fortune-tellers, and the folly of their
dupes, the marvellous relations of travellers, the subtleties o
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 deficient 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, r.
Retrosp. Rev. Vol. iii. p. 333.
LIFE OF BUTLER. xxvil
opinions, arc temporary and local, and therefore
become 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, Avho do not, know
the sour solemnity, the sullen superstition, the
gloomy moroseness, and the stubborn scruples of
the ancient Puritans ; or, if we know them, derive
our information only from books, or from tra
dition ; have never had them before our eyes, and
carmot but by recollection and study understand
the lines in which they are satirized. Our grand
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 :i
XXV111 LIFE OF BUTLER.
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
ing and reason one of the first scholars of his ago
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
LIFE OF BUTLER. XXIX
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 de
termined, 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
burlesque requires is here violated only by one in
cident. Nothing can show more plainly the ne
cessity 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
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
XXX LIFE OF BUTLER.
highest reverence would be due, were not his
decisions often precipitate, and his opinions im
mature. 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.
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
LIFE OF BUTLER.
XXXI
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 vii.
»N Sir Samuel Luke being represented by
Hudibras, see Dr. Grey's Preface, p. iv.
where by a reverend and learned person,
Warburton is meant, see D'Israeli's Curi
osities of Literature (new series) vol. i. p. 235, on this
point. The Grub Street Journal says, one Col.
Eolle, a Devonshire man. The old tutelar saint of
Devonshire was Hugh de Bras, see Edinburgh Re
view, 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 information, 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
couvert centre les traits de la satire de votre auteur.'
But for the climax of this representation we are in-
NOTES. xxxill
debted 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 !
P. x. Gratitude of the king.] According to the
verses in Butler's ' Hudibras at Court,' (». 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 hold,
xxxiv NOTES.
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 everywhere with welcomes of renown.
Courted and loved by all, with wonder read,
And promises of princely favour fed.
But what reward for all had heat last,
After a life in dull expectance past ?
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 hence, 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. xiii. Epitaph on Butler, by John Dennis, never
before published, in D'Israeli's Curiosities of Litera
ture, (new series), vol. i. p. 240 :
Near this place lies interred •
The body of Mr. Samuel Butler,
Author of Hudibras.
He was a whole species of poet 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 has found no followers.
NOTES. XXXV
P. xx. 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 ?
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 vour fear and hope ;
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 3*011 approve his sleight,
And owe your pleasure to your fright.
But like poor Andrew I advance,
False mimic of my master's dance.
Around the cord a while I sprawl,
And thence, though low, in earnest fall.
APPENDIX.
I.
jjUTLER'S Hudibras; thefirst part printed
by T. G. for Richard Mariot, under St.
Dunstan's Church, Fleet Street, 1663,
8vo. p. 268.1 In the Mercurius Aulicus,
Jan. 1-8, 166|-, is an advertisement. — " There is
stolen abroad a most false and imperfect copy of a
poem called Hudibras, without name, either of printer
or bookseller ; the true and perfect edition printed by
the author's original, is sold by Richard Mariot, 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
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.
APPENDIX. XXXVll
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 Churchyard, 1664,
8vo. and 12mo. It has on the title-page a wood-cut,
with the publishers' device, a bell, and the letters
M. A. at bottom. 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.1" — 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, book
seller, 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 assignes, 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 com
mand. Jo. Birkenhead.
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
voi, i. d
XXXV111 • APPENDIX.
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 ; part ii. pp. 223-412.
III. See some lines from the first can to of Hudibras,
admirably translated into Latin verse by Christopher
Smart, published in The Student, or Oxford and
Cambridge 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.
IV. Dr. Grey's edition of Hudibras was published
first in 1744. See on it Gent. Mag., 1819, vol. xii.
N. S. p. 41 6, '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 Cassar was nothing to this." Dr. Grey left
large additional notes, designed for a new edition,
which were in the hands of Mr. Nichols. As re
gards the posthumous works of Butler, 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 Re
mains, 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
APPENDIX.
monument, for then I must have epitaphs and vi
but all my life long I have had too much of them,"
P. 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 / hate
had in my lifetime but too much of noise and compli
ment"
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 Nichols' Hogarth, p. 145, and Notice sur la vie
et les ecrite de M. Larcher, p. 135, in Class. Journal,
No. 19. When the critical reviewers reviewed
Ty tier's Essay on Translation, they would not believe
in the existence of this book, it was so scarce. See
Beloe's Anecdotes, i. p. 21 6, 220. The publication was
superintended by M. L'Abbe Tuberville Needham,
and illustrated with notes by Larcher. There is an
engraving of Mr. Townley by Skelton, with the fol
lowing inscription : —
Ad impertiendum amicis inter Gallos
Linguae Anglicanse 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
Reprinted, 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.
xl APPENDIX.
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 con
ventional 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 philosophical 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 combinations. 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 be
longs 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 andfoibles 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
APPENDIX. xli
every day character of mankind. His mind was tho
roughly impressedwith 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 ex
perience made lessons which it would now be unpro
fitable to study. There is yet so much imperishable
wisdom in his writings — so many warnings against
evil tempers and absurdities, 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 sententious maxims to be found iu
the English language.
VII. From Retrospective Review, vol. iii. 307.
LIST OP THE IMITATIONS Or HUD1BKAS.
1 Hudibras, second part London 16G3
2 Butler's Ghost; or, Hudibras, the fourth part . . 1682
3 Hogan Moganides; or, the Dutch Hudibras . . 1674
4 The Irish Hudibras ; or, Fingallian Priiice, &c. . 1689
5 The Whig's Supplication, by S. Colvil .... 1695
6 Pendragon; or, the Carpet Knight, his Kalendar . 1698
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 London
Spy, second edition 1710
9 Iludibras 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. 1C) 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. 12ino. 1720, and in one vol. . 1754
xlii APPENDIX.
14 England's Reformation, &c. a Poem, by Thomas
Ward 1747
1 5 The Irish Hudibras, Hesperi-neso-graphia, by Wil
liam Moft'et, 1755, a reprint of No. 4.
16 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 care
fully read most of the above poems, bears his testi
mony to the truth and justice of the observations
upon them.
" Pope, in classing the English poets for his pro
jected discourse on the rise and progress of English
Poetry, has considered Sir John Mennis and Thomas
Baynal as the original of Hudibras. See Dr. War-
ton'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 Hu
dibras. Dr. Farmer has traced much of Butler in
Cleveland." Musarum Deliciae, first printed, 1655.
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.
APPENDIX. xliii
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, halfe-JEnglish, and half e- Scotch !
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 b^ 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 Chrisfs throne,
.A step and foot-stoole to his owne ;
Taught Zeal a hundred tumbling tricks,
And Scriptures twin'd with Politicks ;
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 once !) the Pox
And Presbyters a Avay did find
Into the world to plague mankind.
'Twas he patch'd up the new Divine,
Part Calvin, and part Catiline,
1 The Pox, Presbytery, and Jesuitisms, are of llie sane
standing.
xliv APPENDIX.
Could too transfornie (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 inisse,
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 Slock 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
appeared.
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.
APPENDIX. xlv
" A letter to Sir John Mennis, when the Parlia
ment 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,
WhUt is't for him to hang an houre,
To give an army strengthe, and power ? "
THE REPLY.
By my last letter, John, thou see'st
YVhat 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, I
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.
Suppose we being found together,
Had pass'd for birds of the same feather,
I had perchance been shrewly 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
xlvi APPENDIX.
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 ? he shakes his eares ;
And hobling on three legs, he goes
Whining 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 Bristow 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 ;
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 down 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.
APPENDIX. xlvil
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 son~
To hands of Fairfax, to be sent
A sacrifice to the Parliament.
Thou little thought's! 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'J ;
All this and more ascribe we might
To thee at Bristow, wretched knight.
Yet thou upbraidst and raylst in rime
Oil me, for that, which was thy crime.
So froward children in the sun
Amid their sports, some shrewd turne done,
The faulty youth begins to prate
And lays it on his harmlesse mate.
Dated
From Nymptom, 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.
J. S.
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
1 He was born in Worcestershire, hard by Barton-bridge,
^ a mile from Worcester, in the parish of S1. John, Mr. Hill
thinkes, who went to schoole with him.
xlviii APPENDIX.
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 observa
tions and reflections on everything 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 iu musique. He was
thinking once to have made painting his profession.4
His love to and skill in painting made a great friend
ship between him and Mr. Samuel Cowper (the
prince of limners of this age). He then studyed 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 restauration of his ma"6, when the courte
at Ludlowe was againe sett up, he was then tho
king's steward at the castle there. He printed a
witty poeme, called Hudibras, the first part A° 166 .
which tooke extremely, so that the king and Lord
Chanc. Hyde would have him sent for, and accord
ingly he was sent for. (The Ld Ch. Hyde hath his
2 Mr. Saundcrs (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 beyond
sea, and to translate for him. He was secretairie to the
D. of Bucks, when he was Chancellor of Cambridge. He
might have had preferments at first ; but he would not ac
cept any but very good, so at last he had none at all, and
dyed in want.
3 He painted well, and made it (sometime) his profession.
He wayted some yeares on the Countess of Kent. She gave
her gent. 20 lib. per an. a-piece.
4 From Dr. Duke.
APPENDIX. xlix
picture in 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 hereafter growe as much out of fashion and be
as ridicule5 as quibling with words. 2.d N. B. He
hath been much troubled with the gowt, and parti
cularly, 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.
HUDIBRAS UNPRINTED.
No 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, had they wanted Gold, they still had wanted.
» rSic. 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 (John7) Rosse's Answer to the
Marquesse of Dorchester.
Memorandum. Satyricall witts disoblige •whom
they converse with, &c. consequently make to them
selves many enemies and few friends, and this was
his manner and case. He was of a leonine-coloured
haire, sanguine, cholerique, middle sized, strong.
7 [In the hand -writing of Anthony & Wood. Edit.]
HUDIBRAS.
HUDIBKAS.
PART I. CANTO I.
THE ARGUMENT.
Sir Hudibras his passing worth,
The manner how he sally'd forth,
His arms aud 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.*
[HEN 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
* A ridicule on Eonsarde 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.
a 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.
TOL. I. B
2 HUDIBRAS.
For Dame Religion as for punk ;
Whose honesty they all durst swear for,
Though not a man of them knew wherefore ;
When Gospel- trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear'd rout, to 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 is
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood,
That never bow'd his stubborn knee
To anything 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
11 1S Alluding to their vehement action in the pulpit, and
their beating it with their fists, as if they were beating a
dram.
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.
u"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 ?'. e. He kneeled to the king, when he knighted him,
but seldom upon any other occasion.
22 ' Chartel ' is a challenge to a duel.
53 In this character of Hudibras all the abuses of human
PART I. CANTO I. 3
That could as well bind o'er as swaddle ;
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 : ^o
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 n.->
That knaves do work with, call*d a Fool.
For 't has beeff 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 holydays or so,
As men their best apparel do. .•>•>
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 :
learning are finely satirised : philosophy, logic, rhetoric,
mathematics, metaphysics, and school-divinity.
4 HUDIBRAS.
Being rich in both, he never scanted 55
His bounty unto such as wanted ;
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, eo
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, 05
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
5556 -phis js tjje prOperty of a pedantic coxcomb, who
prates most learnedly amongst illiterate persons, and makes
a mighty pother about books and languages, where he is
sure to be admired, though not understood.
«364 yARt ' And truly so perhaps he was,
"Pis many a pious Christian's case.'
74 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 vears be
fore, were now the justices of the peace." Dr. Bruno Eyves
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."
PART I. CANTO I. 5
And rooks Committee-men and Trustees.
He'd run in debt by disputation,
And pay with ratiocination :
All this by syllogism, true
In mood and figure he would do. so
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, st>
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-colour'd dress 95
Of patch'd and piebald 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,
75 In the several counties, especially the Associated ones
(Middlesex, Kent, Surrey, Sussex, Norfolk, Suffolk, iiml
Cambridgeshire) which sided with the Parliament, com
mittees were formed 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 tliev pleased.
6 HUDIBRAS.
Or Cerberus himself pronounce
A leash of languages at once.
This he as volubly would vent, 105
As if his stock would ne'er be spent :
And truly, to support that charge,
He had supplies as vast and large ;
For he could coin or counterfeit
NCAV words, with little or no wit ; no
Words so debas'd and hard, no stone
Was hard enough to touch them on ;
And Avhen with hasty noise he spoke 'em ;
The ignorant for current took 'em ;
That had the orator, who once us
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 ; i?o
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 1.5
The clock does strike, by Algebra.
Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher,
109 "j-jjg 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 iu the speeches of the Knight and Squire, and others,
in this Poem ; for which they are bantered b}' Sir John
Birkenhead.
"* Demosthenes is here meant, who had a defect in his
speech.
180 An eminent Danish mathematician ; and William
Lilly, the famous astrologer of those times.
PART I. CANTO 1. 7
And had read ev'ry text and gloss over ;
Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath,
He understood b' implicit faith : 130
Whatever sceptic could enquire for,
For ev'ry why he had a wherefore ;
Knew more than forty of them do,
As far as words and terms could go ;
All which he understood by rote, iss
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, HO
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, 14:.
The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly ;
Where truth in person does appear,
Like words congeal'd in northern air.
He-inew what's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly : iso
In school-divinity as able
As he that hight Irrefragable ;
131 VAK. ' Inquere.'
145 VAR. ' He'd tell where Entity and Quiddity.'
152 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.
8 HUDIBRAS.
A second Thomas, or, at once
To name them all, another Dunce :
Profound in all the Nominal us
And Real ways beyond them all :
153 Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican friar, was born in
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 per
sons 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 canon
ized by Pope John XXII. We have his works in eighteen
volumes, several times printed.
151 Johannes Dun Scotus was a very learned man, who
lived about the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the
fourteenth century. The English and Scotch strive which of
them shall have the honour of his birth. The English say
he was born in Northumberland ; the Scotch 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 i56 Gulielmus Occham was founder of the Nominals. and
Johannes Dun Scotus of the Reals.
PART I. CANTO I. 9
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 ; ico
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 with doubts profound,
Only to show with how small pain
The sores of Faith are cur'd again; 1:0
Although 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
Canre 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, iso
157 iss yAR. « And wjth as delicate a hand
Could twist as tough a rope of sand.'
181 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 HUDIBRAS.
He could unriddle in a moment,
In proper terms, such as men smaller
When they throw out and miss the matter.
For his religion, it was fit
To match his learning and his wit : 130
'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 IP.-,
The holy text of pike and g-un ;
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 i3i Where 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 : aud once, during that
Grand Rebellion, it seemed very near gaining an estab
lishment here.
195 196 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 hi.s
troop in the inward court, " These, Sir,'' said the Cornet, "are
my instructions."
199 200 Many 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, CK>
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 L'i's
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. 2?o
Th' apostles of this fierce religion,
Like Mahomet's, were ass and widgeon,
207 The religion of the Presbyterians of those times con
sisted principally in an opposition to the Church of England,
and in quarrelling with the most innocent customs then in
use, as the eating Christinas-pies and plum-porridge at
Christmas; which they reputed sinful.
213 « M They were so remarkablv obstinate in this respect,
that they kept, a fast upon Christinas-day.
12 HUDIBRAS.
To whom our Knight, by fast instinct
Of wit and temper, was so linkt,
As if hypocrisy and nonsense 235
Had got th' advowson of his conscience.
Thus was 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, 2-15
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
215 33« j)r_ J5runo 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, because,
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 the new Puritan have consciences
of the self-same temper, " To strain out a gnat, and swallow
a camel."
211 Mr. Butler, in his description of Hudibras's beard,
seems to have had an eve 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?
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.
PART I. CANTO I. 13
And tell, with hieroglyphic spade,
Its own grave and the State's were made:
Like Samson's heart-bi*eakers, 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 pulPd 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
>T VAR. It was 'canonic.'
281 Gaspar Taliacotius was born at Bouonia, 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 285
Off dropt the sympathetic snout.
His back, or rather burthen, show'd
As if it stoop'd with its own load :
For as ^Eneas bore his sire
Upon his shoulders through the fire, 200
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 ^95
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
u 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 'Graafe de Rhinoplastice, sive arte curtum Nasum ad
Vivum restituendi Commentatio,' 4to. Berolin. 1818.
PART I. CANTO 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 ; 210
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 sis
For warriors that delight in blood.
For, as we said, he always chose
To carry victual in his hose,
That often tempted rats and mice
The ammunition to surprise ; 320
And when he put a hand but in
The one or t'other magazine,
They stoutly in defence on't stood,
And from the wounded foe drew blood ;
And, till th' were storm'd and beaten out, 325
Ne'er left 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, 330
Where belly-timber, above ground
Or under, was not to be found,
Unless they graz'd there's not one word
Of their provision on record ;
Which made some confidently write, 335
They had no stomachs but to fight :
'Tis false ; for Arthur wore in hall
Round table like a farthingal,
On which, with shirt pull'd out behind,
And eke before, his good knights din'd : 340
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 digress'd,
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, seu
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 :*•'/
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, ^7'J
It had appear'd with courage boldi r
Than Serjeant Bum invading shoulder :
Oft had it ta'en possession,
PART I. CANTO I. 17
And pris'ners too, or made them run.
This sword a dagger had, his page, 375
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 : 380
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 :
'Twould make clean shoes, and in the earth 385
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. soo
In th' holsters at his saddle-bow
Two aged pistols he did stow,
Among the surplus of such meat
As in his hose he could not get :
These would inveigle rats with th' scent, 395
To forage when the cocks were bent,
And sometimes catch 'em with a snap,
As cleverly as th' ablest trap.
They were upon hard duty still,
And every night stood sentinel, *oo
To guard the magazine i' th' hose
From two-legg'd and from four-lcgg'd foes.
Thus clad and fortify'd Sir Knight
From peaceful home set forth to fight.
But first with nimble active force ios
He got on th' outside of his horse
TOL. I. C
18 HUD1BBAS.
For having but one stirrup ty'd
T' his saddle on the further side,
It was so short h' had much ado
To reach it with his desp'rate toe ; iio
But after many strains and heaves,
He got up to the saddle-eaves,
From whence he vaulted into th' seat
With so much vigour, strength, and heat,
That he had almost tumbled over 415
With his own weight, but did recover
By laying hold on tail and mane,
Which oft he us?d instead of rein.
But now we talk of mounting steed,
Before we further do proceed, 420
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, 425
As most agree, though some say none.
He was well stay'd, and in his gait
Preserv'd a grave, majestic state ;
At spur or switch no more he skipt
Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt, 430
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, 435
Nor trod upon the ground so soft :
And as that beast would kneel and stoop
(Some write) to take his -rider up ;
So Hudibras his ('tis well known)
PART I. CANTO I. 19
Would often do to set him down. 440
We shall not need to say what lack
Of leather was upon his back,
For that was hidden under pad,
And breech of Knight gall'd full as bad.
His strutting ribs on both sides show'd 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, 450
Still as his tender side he prickt,
With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd, kickt :
For Hudibras wore but one spilr,
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 465
He had laid in, by birth a tailor.
457 Sir Eoger 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."
20 HUDIBRAS.
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; -"to
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, 435
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 ;
485 VAR. ' His wits were sent him.'
487 468 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 bending 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
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,
Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff,
He could deep mysteries unriddle,
As easily as thread a needle : 500
For as of vagabonds we say,
That they are ne'er beside 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, 505
Which none see by but those that bear it ;
A light that falls down from on high,
For spiritual trades to cozen by ;
An ignis fatuus, that bewitches,
And leads men into pools and ditches, 510
To make them dip themselves, and sound
For Christendom in dirty pond ;
To dive like wild-fowl for salvation,
And- fish to catch regeneration.
This light inspires and plays upon 515
The nose of saint, like 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-dropper's can hear : 520
So Phoebus, or some friendly Muse,
Into small poets song infuse,
Which they at second-hand rehearse,
511 Alluding to Ealpho's religion, who was probably an
Anabaptist or Dipper.
22 HUDIBRAS.
Through reed or bagpipe, verse for verse.
Thus Ralph became infallible 51-5
As three or four-legg'd oracle,
The ancient cup, or modern chair,
Spoke truth point blank, though unaware.
For mystic learning, wondrous able
In magic, talisman, and cabal, 530
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 : 540
He Anthroposophus, and Floud,
And Jacob Behmen, understood ;
Knew many an amulet and charm,
That would do neither good nor harm ;
In Rosicrucian lore as learned 51$
As he that Verb 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 ; sso
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 Avater,
446 Alluding to the Philosophers' stone.
PART I. CANTO I. 23
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 : seo
Ho took her naked, all alone,
Before one rag of form was on.
The Chaos, too, he had descry'd,
And seen quite through, or else he ly'd :
Not that of 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 : 570
But Reformation was, some say,
0' th' younger house to Puppet-play.
He could foretell whats'ever was
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 : " 0 my
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
24 HUDIBRAS.
By consequence to come to pass ;
As death of great men, alterations, 575
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 ; MO
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 ; 690
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 received 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. eoo
They'll find i' th' physiognomies
0' th' planets, all men's destinies,
arguments could comfort her against the dangerous times
approaching ; but when she had prayed to be established in
faith in Thee, then presently Thou didst, by this vision,
strongly possess her soul that Thine and our enemies should
be overcome."
PART I. CAl^TO I. 25
Like him that took the doctor's bill ;
And swallow'd it instead o' th' pill ;
Cast the nativity o' th' question, 605
And from positions to be guess'd on,
As sure as if they knew the moment
Of Native's birth, tell what will come on't.
They'll feel the pulses of the stars,
To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs, eio
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 ; 015
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 can the astrologians;
There they say right, and like true Trojans : 620
This Ralpho knew, and therefore took
The other course, of which we spoke.
Thus was th' aceomplish'd Squire endu'd
With gifts and knowledge perlous shrewd :
Never did trusty squire with knight, 625
Or knight with squire, e'er jump more right.
Their arms and equipage did fit,
As well as virtues, parts, and wit:
Their valours, too, were of a rate ;
And out they sally'd at the gate. eso
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 385
26 HUDIBRAS.
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,
Whom therefore thus do we accost :
Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, eis
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 Avits) &->o
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, 055
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, eeo
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, 665
To those that dwell therein well known,
665 Brentford, which is eight miles west from London, h
here probably meant, as may be gathered from Part II.
PART I. CANTO I. 27
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
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 675
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 ; eso
For authors do affirm it came
From Isthmian or Nemrean game ;
Others derive it from the Bear
That's fix'd in northern hemisphere,
And round about the polo does make 685
A circle, like a bear at stake,
That at the chain's end wheels about,
Afrd overturns the rabble-rout :
Cant. 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.
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.
28 HUDIBRAS.
For, after solemn proclamation
In the bear's name (as is the fashion too
According to the law of arms,
To keep men from inglorious harms)
That none presume to come so near
As forty foot of stake of bear,
If any yet be so fool-hardy 695
T' expose themselves to va"in 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 believed he was bound to do
In conscience and commission too ;
And therefore thus bespoke the Squire :
We that are wisely mounted higher
689690 Alluding to the bull-running at Tutburyin Stafford
shire ; where solemn proclamation was made by the Steward,
before the bull was turned loose ; " That all manner of per
sons give way to the bull, none being to come near him
by forty foot, any way to hinder the minstrels, but to attend
bis or their own safety, every one at his peril." Dr. Plot's
' Staffordshire.'
714 This speech is set down as it was delivered by the
PART I. CANTO I. 29
Than constables in curule wit, 715
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,
Knight, in his own words ; but since it is below the gravity
of "neroical poetry to admit of humour, but all men are
obliged to speak wisely alike, and too much of so extravagant
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
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 con
science in this particular) immediately quashed the motion,
by saying the power was too great for any man.
30 HUDIBRAS.
Enough at once to lie at stake 735
For Cov'nant and the Cause's sake ?
But in that quarrel Dogs and Bears,
As well as we, must venture theirs ?
This feud, by Jesuits invented,
By evil counsel is fomented ; 740
There is a Machiavelian plot
(Though ev'ry 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,
736 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 re
ceived 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 give his con
sent, 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 1. 31
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
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, 76o
Nor Lords' and Commons' Ordinances ;
Nor for the Church, nor for Church-lands,
To get them into their own hands ;
NOP evil Counsellors to bring
To justice, that seduce the King ; 770
Nor for the worship of us men,
765 VAR. ' Nor for free Liberty of Conscience.' The word
'free' was left out in 1674; and Mr. Warburton thinks for
the worse; 'free liberty '.being a most beautiful and satirical
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.
32 HUDIBRAS.
Though we 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,
Fought it out mordicus to death ; 730
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 .85
The rage in them like boutt-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, 795
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.
PART I. CANTO I. 33
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 ; 8io
A vile assembly 'tis, that can
No more be proved by Scripture than
Provincial, Classic, National,
Mere human creature-cobwebs all.
Thirdly, it is idolatrous ; 815
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. 820
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 verbis, so do I)
Yet there's a fallacy in this ;
For if by sly homceosis, 830
Ttissis 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 (35
But Bear-baiting may be made out,
In gospel-times, as lawful as is
TOL. I. D
34 HUDIBRAS.
Provincial, or Parochial Classis ;
And that both are so near of kin,
And like in all, as well as sin, 840
That put 'em in a bag, and shake 'em,
Yourself o' th' sudden would mistake 'em,
And not know which is which, unless
You measure by their wickedness ;
For 'tis not hard t' imagine whether 845
0' th' two is worst, though I name neither.
Quoth Hudibras, Thou offer'st much,
But art not able to keep touch ;
Mira de lente, as 'tis i' th' adage,
Id est, to make a leek a cabbage : 350
Thou wilt at best but suck a bull,
Or shear swine, all cry and no wool ;
For what can Synods have at all,
With Bear that's analogical ?
Or what relation has debating 855
Of Church-affairs with Bear-baiting ?
A just comparison still is
Of things ejusdem generis ;
And then what genus rightly doth
Include and comprehend them both ? seo
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, ?f5
Nor time, to argue out the case ;
841 YAK. ' Thou canst at best but overstrain
A paradox and thy own brain ;'
and ' Thou'lt be at best but such a bull,' &c.
860 VAR. ' Comprehend them inclusive both.'
8M YAK. ' As likely.'
PART I. CANTO I. 35
For now the field is not far off
Where we must give the world a proof
Of deeds, not words, and such as suit
Another manner of dispute : 870
A controversy that affords
Actions for arguments, not words ;
Which we must manage at a rate
Of prowess and conduct adequate
To what our place and fame doth promise, 876
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, V are steer'd by Fate,
Which in success oft disinherits,
For spurious causes, noblest merits.
Great actions are not always true sons sss
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. 390
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, wo
36 HTJDIBRAS.
And equal fame and glory from
Th' attempt, or victory to come.
'Tis sung there is a valiant Mamaluke,
In foreign land yclep'd —
To whom we have been oft compar'd 905
For person, parts, address, and beard ;
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 ; 910
Nor will we fail in th' execution,
For want of equal resolution.
Honour is like a widow, won
With brisk attempt and putting on ;
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 Common-weal,
While still the more he kick'd and spurr'd,
The less the sullen jade has stirr'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."
PART I. CANTO II. 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
Is in them all but love and battles ?
0' th' first of these w' have no great matter
To treat of, but a world o' th' latter,
IrTwhich 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
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
38 HUDIBKAS.
Make up some fierce dead-doing man, 20
Compos'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 -iM
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 ; so
Yet some, from subtle hints, have got
Mysterious light it was a trot ;
PART I. CANTO II. 39
But let that pass : they now begun
To spur their living engines on :
For as whipp'd tops and bandy'd balls, 55
The learned hold, are animals ;
So horses they affirm to be
Mere engines made by geometry,
And were invented first from engines,
As Indian Britons were from Penguins. co
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. 70
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. so
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 ;
74 VAR. ' From off'.'
40 H17D1BRAS.
Courage and steel, both of great force, 85
Prepar'd for better or for worse.
His death-charg'd pistols he did fit well,
Drawn out from life-preserving victual ;
These being prim'd, with force he labour'd
To free 's sword from retentive scabbard, oo
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 desp'rate foot, 95
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 ;
85 BS YAB. < Courage within, and steel without,
To give and to receive a rout.'
92 VAE. ' He clear'd at length the rugged tuck.'
99 100 YAK. « The Squire advanc'd with greater speed
Than could b' expected from his steed :'
101 102 YAK. But '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 Jackson,
a milliner, who lived in the New Exchange in the Strand.
He had formerly been in the service of the Roundheads, and
had lost a leg in it ; this brought 'him to decay, so that he
was bbliged to scrape upon a fiddle, from one ale-house to
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 ; HO
(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 115
To special friends the knot of noose :
For 'tis great grace when statesmen straight
Despatch a friend, let others wait.
His warped ear hung o'er the strings,
Which was but souse to chitterlings : 120
For guts, some write, ere they are sodden,
Are fit for music or for pudden ;
From whence men borrow ev'ry kina
Of minstrelsy, by string or wind.
His grisly beard was long and thick, 125
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
another, for his bread. Mr. Butler very judiciously places
him at the head of his catalogue : for country diversions are
generally attended with a fiddler or bagpiper.
42 HUDIBKAS.
(As once in Persia, 'tis said,
Kings were proclaim'd by a horse that neigh'd),
He, bravely vcnt'ring at a crown,
By chance of war was beaten down, HO
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 : ieo
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
147 VAK. 'Next follow'd.' Joshua Gosling, who kept
bears at Paris-garden, in Southwark. However, says Sir
Roger, he stood hard and fast for. the Bump Parliament.
159 160 VAR. ' Knew when t' engage his bear pell-mell,
And when to bring him off as well.'
PART I. CANTO II. 43
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
Of many a fierce and bloody fray ; no
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 175
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 : iss
We'll beat a drum, and they'll all follow.
A djuim ! (quoth Phoebus) Troth, that's true,
A pretty invention, quaint and new :
But though of voice and instrument
We 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. ;
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 licences for new inventions.
44 HUDIBRAS.
To him apply yourselves, and he 195
Will soon despatch 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
Were on before, that is, stout Orsin : 200
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 the windore),
Made Jupiter himself and others 215
0' 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
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
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, 230
Though by Promethean fire made ;
As they do quack that drive that trade.
For as, when slovens do amiss
At others' doors, by stool or piss,
The learned write a red-hot spit 235
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. aio
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^ie 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 de la guerre
Of rough impenetrable fur,
And in his nose, like Indian king, 256
He wore, for ornament, a ring ;
About his neck a threefold gorget,
238 VAK. Unto the ' breech.'
46 HTJDIBRAS.
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
Which they do eat their victual with.
He was by birth, some authors write, 255
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. 270
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. 2so
He had trac'd countries far and near
More than Le Blanc the traveller,
Who writes, he spous'd in India,
Of noble house a lady gay,
And got on her a race of worthies 2?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 saVd citizen ; the one 290
PART I. CANTO II. 47
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, 295
Never got aught of him but blows,
Blows hard and heavy, such as he
Had lent, repaid with usury.
Yet Tagol was of courage stout,
And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought ; soo
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 scs
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
Than 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, sis
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 ; 320
299 A butcher in Newgate-market, who afterwards ob
tained a captain's commission for his rebellious bravery at
Naseby, as Sir R. L'Estrange observes.
48 HUDIBRAS.
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 zz&
'Tis great and large, but base, if mean :
The former rides in triumph for it,
The latter in a two-wheel'd chariot,
For daring to profane a thing
So sacred with vile 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 Ajax5 sevenfold shield,
Which o'er his brazen arms he held :
But brass was feeble to resist
The fury of his armed fist, 340
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, 345
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,
331 Simeon Wait a tinker, as famous an Independent
preacher as Burroughs, who, with equal blasphemy to his
Lord of Hosts, would style Olive'r Cromwell the Archangel
giving battle to the Devil.
PART 1. CANTO II. 49
As like the Devil as a collier ; 350
As like as 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, 355
He was th' inventor of, and maker :
The trumpet and the kettle-drum
Did both from his invention come.
He was the first that e'er did teach
To make, and how to stop, a breach. 300
A lance he bore with iron pike,
Th' one half would thrust, the .other strike ;
And when thejr forces he had join'd,
He scorn'd to turn his parts behind.
He Trulla lov'd, Trulla more bright 365
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 surprise,
She shar'd i' th' hazard and the prize ;
385 The daughter of James Spenser, debauched by Mag-
nano the tinker ; so called because the tinker's wife cr mis
tress was commonly called his 'trull.' See 'The Cox
comb,' a comedy.
348 Alluding probably to Mary Carlton, called ' Kentish
Moll,' but more commonly ' The German Princess ;' a per
son notorious at the time this First Part of Hudibras was
published. She was transported to Jamaica, 1671, but re
turning from transportation too soon, she was hanged at
Tyburn, Jan. 22, 1672-3.
VOL. I. E
50 HUDIBRAS.
At beating quarters up, or forage, : 75
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, 380
That (spite of all philosophers,
Who hold no females stout but bears,
And heretofore did so abhor
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 right like termagants and Turks ;
To lay their native arms aside,
Their modesty, and ride astride ; 890
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, 30r»
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, 403
Or, what's as good, produc'd in print ;
And if they will not take our word,
PART I. CANTO II. 51
We'll prove it true upon record.
The upright Cerdon next advanc't,
Of all his race the valiant'st ; no
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, 420
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 ; 430
Next rectifier of wry law,
And would make three to cure one flaw.
Learned he was, and could take note,
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 ? 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
btloved diversion of bear-baiting.
52 HUDIBRAS.
Transcribe, collect, translate, and quote :
But preaching was his chiefest talent, 435
Or argument, in which being valiant,
He us'd to lay about and stickle,
434 Mechanics of all sorts were then preachers, and some
of them much followed and admired by 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 pulpits, aprons into
linen ephods, and mechanics of the lowest 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 enor
mities, and curb the headstrong insolences of this brutish
age, stoutly exhorting us to stand up for the truth, lest the
wheel of destruction 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 sub
lunary 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."
PART I. CANTO II. 53
Like ram or bull, at Conventicle :
For disputants, like rams and bulls,
Do fight with arms that spring from sculls. 4io
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.
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 ; 450
Yet he was much the rougher part,
And alwaysTiad 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 Avhether 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
441 'Colon.' Ned Perry, an hostler.
54 HUDIBRAS.
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 4 TO
The combatants, each in the head
Of his command, with arms and rage
Ready and longing to engage.
The num'rous rabble was drawn out
Of sev'ral counties round about, 490
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 i83
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 -100
With Squire and weapons to attack 'em ;
But first thus, from his horse bespake 'em :
What rage, 0 Citizens ! what fury,
Doth you to these dire actions hurry ?
What oestrum, what phrenetic mood, 495
Makes you thus lavish of your blood,
While the proud Vies your trophies boast,
And unreveng'd walks Waller's ghost ?
What towns, what garrisons, might you
With hazard of this blood subdue, 500
495 'Oestrum' signifies the gad-bee or horse-fly.
431 Sir W. Waller was defeated at Devizes.
PART 1. CANTO II. 55
Which now y' are bent to throw away
In vain untriumphable fray ?
Shall saints in civil bloodshed wallow
Of saints, and let the Cause Ho fallow ?
The Cause, for which we fought and swore 505
So boldly, shall we now give o'er ?
Then, because quarrels still arc seen
With oaths and swearings to begin,
The Solemn League and Covenant
Will seem a mere God-damme rant, cio
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 sis
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,
5oaso4 MY Walker observes, "That all the cheating,
covetous, ambitious persons of the land were united together
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.
sis si4 The 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.
56 HUDIBRAS.
When 'twas resolved by their House 525
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 ? f 30
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 535
Church- Discipline, for patching kettle ;
No sow-gelder did blow his horn
To geld a cat, but cry'd Reform ;
The oyster- women lock'd their fish up,
And trudg'd away to cry No Bishop ; 540
The mouse-trap men laid save-alls by,
And 'ganst 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 545
Of pudding-pies and gingerbread ;
And some for brooms, old boots and shoes,
Bawl'd out to purge the Commons House ;
Instead of kitchen-stuff, some cry
A Gospel-preaching ministry ; 530
And some for old suits, coats, or cloak,
No Surplices nor Service-book :
430 «G00(i Lord!" says the 'True Informer,' p. 12, "what
a deal of dirt was thrown in the Bishops' faces ! — what in
famous 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.' "
PART I. CANTO II. 57
A strange harmonious inclination
Of all degrees to Reformation.
And is this all ? Is this the end 655
To which these carr'ings on did tend ?
Hath Public faith, like a young heir,
For this tak'n up all sorts of ware,
And run int' ev'ry tradesman's book,
Till both turn bankrupts and are broke ? seo
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 flagons, 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,
TheJ3rethren's 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
ss» s.54 Tjj0se flights, which seem most extravagant in our
Poet, were really excelled by matter ef 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.'
58 HUDIBRAS.
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 58o
The women, and make them draw in
The men, as Indians with a female
Tame elephant inveigle the male ?
Have they told Providence what it must do,
559 It was a common practice to inform God of the trans
actions of the times. " Oh ! my Good Lord God," says Mr.
G. Swathe, ' Prayers,' p. 12, " I hear the King 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 by his Popish, Arminian, and
temporising, rebellious, malignant 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 sta'hd 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 thev 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 watchful since we were
last with Thee, and thev are in a very hopeful condition.
PART i. CANTO n. 59
Whom to avoid, and whom to trust to ? 090
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, 593
And after good or bad success
Made prayers, not so like petitions
As overtures and propositions
(Such as the Army did present
To their Creator, th' ParPament), eoo
In which they freely will confess
They will not, cannot acquiesce,
We hope that Thou wilt not forget "us; for we are very
thoughtful of Thy-concerns. We do somewhat long to hear
from Thee; and if Thou pleasest-to give us such a thing
(' Victory'), we shall be (as I may so say) good 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.
102 Alluding probably to their profane expostulations with
God from the pulpit. Mr. Vinej, in St. Clement's Church,
near Temple-bar, used the following words : " 0 Lord, Thou
hast never given us a victory this long while, for all our fre-
quentfasting. What dost Thou mean, 0 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 : " 0 God, 0 God, many are the hands
that are lift up against us, but there is one God, it is Thou
Thyself, 0 Father, Who does us more mischief thnn they all."
They seemed to encourage this profanity in their public
sermons. " Gather upon God," says Mr. R. Harris, ' Fast
Sermon before the Commons,' " 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 Svcrtiivtiv,
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 requests."
60 HUDIBRAS.
Unless the work be carry'd on
In the same way they have1 begun,
By setting Church and Commonweal 6o>
All on a flame, bright as their zeal,
On Avhich the Saints were all agog,
And all this for a Bear and Dog?
The Parl'ament drew up petitions
To 'tself, and sent them, like commissions, 6io
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 showM
As if they to the pill'ry rode ?
Have all these courses, these efforts,
Been try'd by people of all sorts, 620
Veils et remis, omnibus nervis,
And all t' advance the Cause's service ;
And shall all now be thrown away
In petulant intestine fray ?
Shall we, that in the Cov'nant swore 025
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, cso
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'noss to Reform oss
PART I. CANTO II. 61
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,
According to the purest mode
Of churches best reform'd abroad,
What did we else but make a vow 645
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 ceteras ; eso
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 655
T' exorbitances fit for Bedlam,
Rather than gospel-walking times,
When slightest sins are greatest crimes.
But we the matter so shall handle
651 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, in
the Holy League, to fight to the last drop of blood.
62 HUDIBRAS.
As to remove that odious scandal : G#>
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 GC5
Where your respective dwellings are.
But to that purpose first surrender
The Fiddler, as the prime offender,
Th' incendiary vile, that is chief
Author and engineer of mischief ; ' cro
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 075
To condign pun'shment, as they ought :
This must be done, and I would fain see
Mortal so sturdy as to gainsay ;
673-676 The threatening punishment to the Fiddle was
much like the 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?' 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 j 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, stript my cattle in a
twinkling, and beat me black and blue with my own oak
branches."
PART I. CANTO II. 63
For then I'll take another course,
And soon reduce you all by force. cso
This said, he clapt his hand on sword,
To shew he meant to keep his word.
But Talgol, who had long supprest
Inflamed wrath in glowing breast,
Which now began to rage and burn as 635
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
0' 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
Wasr no dispute a-foot between
The caterwauling Brethren ?
No subtle question rais'd among
Those out-o'-their wits and those i' th' wrong ?
No prize between those combatants 705
683 684 jt mav be asfce^ \yhy Talgol was the first in
answering the Knight, when it seems more incumbent upon
the Be.irwavd 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.
C94 VAR. ' Is lam'd, and tir'd in halting hither.'
64 HUDIBRAS.
0' 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 ?
Was there no felony, no bawd,
Cut-purse, or burglary abroad ?
No stolen pig, nor plunder'd goose, 7»5
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, 7^5
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 : ?co
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,
732 VAR. ' To keep within its lodging.'
PART I. CANTO II. 65
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, 741
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 the 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, 750
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,
741 Hudibras shewed less patience upon this than Don
Quixote did upon a like occasion, where he calmly dis
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
expressed in words, he immediately falls into action ; but,
alas ! at this first entrance into it, he meets with an unlucky
disappointment ; an omen that the success would be as in
different as the cause in which he was engaged.
731 VAR. 'Turn death of nature to thy work.'
VOL. I. F
66 HUDIBRAS.
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, 765
Like tainted beef, and pay dear for 'em :
Nor shall it e'er be said that wight
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 : 780
But Pallas came in shape of Rust,
And 'twixt the spring and hammer thrust
781—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 Virgil, 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.
PART I. CANTO II. 67
Her Gorgon shield, which made the cock
Stand stiff, as 'twere transform'd to stock.
Mean-while fierce Talgol, gath'ring might, 735
With rugged truncheon charg'd the Knight :
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, 7?5
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 : 800
The trusty cudgel did oppose
Itself against dead-doing blows,
To guard his leader from fell bane,
Andjthen reveng'd itself again.
And though the sword (some understood) sos
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,
784 VAR. ' Stand stiff, as if 'twere turn'd t' a stock.'
786 VAR. • Smote the Knight.'
787 788 -yv^ « ^nd he wjtll rug(.y pjgtoi jje]d ( ^ ^
To take the blow on like a shield.'
797 VAR. ' But when his rugged sword was out.'
798 VAR. ' Courageously he laid about.'
68 HUDIBRAS.
Is so implacably enrag'd, eio
Though iron hew and mangle sore,
Wood wounds and bruises honour more.
And now both knights were out of breath,
Tir'd in the hot pursuit of death,
Whilst all the rest amaz'd stood still, sis
Expecting which should take, or kill.
This Hudibras observed ; and fretting
Conquest should be so long a-getting,
He drew up all his force into
One body, and that into one blow : 820
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. gso
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
835 VAR. ' But now fierce Colon 'gan draw on,
To aid the distress'd champion ;'
838 VAR. ' A fierce dispute.'
PART I. CANTO II. GO
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
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 ; 850
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, eeo
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
844 VAK. ' With prickles sharper than a nail.'
816 VAR. ' And feel regret on fundament.'
8" VAK. ' That stagger'd him.'
864 865 i would here observe the judgment of the Poet:
Ulars is introduced to the Knight's advantage, as Pallas has
been before to his disappointment. It was reasonable that the
God of War should come in to his assistance, since a goddess
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 preserved the ground,
And head-long Knight, from bruise or wound; 870
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 : 880
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
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 de
termined. Besides, \ve may observe a beautiful 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
be afterwards did, ascribe the honour of the victory to him
self.
PAJIT I. CANTO II. 71
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 had fought so many a fray,
And serv'd with loss of blood so long, 8fl5
Should offer such inhuman wrong ;
Wrong of unsoldier-like condition,
For which he flung down his commission,
And laid about him, till his nose
From thrall of ring and cord broke loose. 900
Soon as he felt himself enlarg'd,
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 905
He strove tf'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, 915
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
906 VAK. ' avoid the conqu'ring Knight.'
920 VAR. ' cast in swound.'
72 HUDIBRAS.
In haste he snatch'd the wooden limb
That hurt i' the 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, 935
He with the foe began to buckle,
Vowing to be reveng'd, for breach
Of Crowd and skin, upon the wretch
Sole author of all detriment
He and his Fiddle underwent. sso
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,
923 VAR. ' And listing it.'
9S4 VAR. ' to fall on Knight.'
934 »36 yARi « Looking about, beheld the Bard
To charge the Knight entranc'd prepar'd.'
M« « The skin encounter'd,' &c.
947 VAR. ' on side and arm.'
PART I. CANTO II. 73
To shield the Knight from further harm,
And, joining wrath with force, bestow'd
On th' wooden member such a load, 950
That down it fell, and with it bore
Crowdero, whom it 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 ?
How durst th', I say, oppose thy Curship
'Gainst arms, authority, and worship, 960
And Hudibras or me provoke,
Though all thy limbs were heart of oak,
And th' other half of thee as good
To bear out blows as 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,
948 VAK. ' To shield the Knight entrauc'd from harm.'
74 HUDIBRAS.
Look'd out, but yet with some amazement. oso
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, 900
All save Crowdero, for whose sake
You did th' espous'd Cause undertake ;
And he lies pris'ner at your feet,
To be dispos'd as you think meet,
Either for life, or death, or sale, 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 ; 1000
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
1009 jf. was a prjncjpie 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
PART I. CANTO II. 75
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 Avas ours by right before : 1020
For we are their true landlords still,
And they our tenants but at will.
At this the Knight began to xouse,
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,
Hislury 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 1035
Than from your hand to have the honour
Of his destruction ; I that am
A Nothingness in deed and name,
Did scorn to hurt his forfeit carcase,
or a godly man, he had no right to any lands, goods, or
chattels. The Saints, as the Squire says, had a right to all,
and might take it, wherever they had a power to do it.
70 HUDIBRAS.
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 conquering sword
To break a fiddle, and your- word?
For though I fought and overcame, 10J5
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
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, loeo
'Twere policy and honour too
To do as you resolv'd to do :
But, Sir, 'twould wrong your valour much,
To say it needs, or fears a crutch.
Great conqu'rors greater glory gain iiwo
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 : 1070
One half of him 's already slain,
The other is not worth your pain ;
PART I. CANTO II. 77
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, ioso
If any member there dislike
His face, or to his beard have pique,
.Or if his death will save or yield,
Revenge or fright, it is reveal'd ;
Though he has quarter, ne'ertheless loss
Y' have pow'r to hang him when you please ;
This has been eften 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 : 1090
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 Tf we should fight for the Cause " 1095
By rules of military laws,
ios4 \yhen the Eebels 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 be
saved, it was only saying it was revealed to him that such
a one should die, and they hanged him up, notwithstanding
the promises before made. Dr. Sauth observes of Harrison
the Regicide, a butcher by profession, and preaching Colonel
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 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 1200
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 charged 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 despatch'd with speedy haste,
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 trophy- Fiddle and the case,
Leaning on shoulder like a mace.
The Knight himself did after ride,
Leading Crowdero by his side ;
And tow'd him if he lagg'd behind, 1125
Like boat against the tide and wind.
Thus grave and solemn they march on,
Until quite through the town th' had gone,
1122 VAR. 'Plac'd on his shoulder.'
PART I. CANTO II. 79
At further end of which there stands
An ancient castle, that commands 1130
Th' adjacent parts ; in all the fabric
You shall not see one stone nor a brick,
But all of wood, by pow'rful spell
Of magic made impregnable :
There's neither iron-bar nor gate, 1133
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 middle-leg in prison ;
In circle magical confm'd
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 Bastile, built t' imprison hands ; 1150
By strange enchantment made to fetter
The lesser parts, and free the greater.
For though the body may creep through,
The hands in grate are fast enow ;
And when a circle 'bout the wrist 1155
Is made by beadle exorcist,
The body feels the spur and switch,
1130 This 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.
80 HUDIBRAS.
As if 'twere ridden post .by witch
At twenty miles an hour pace,
And yet ne'er stirs out of the place. nco
On top of this there is a spire,
On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire
The Fiddle, and its spoils, the case,
In manner of a trophy, place ;
That done, they ope the trap-door gate, lies
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; 1170
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, 1175
Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't :
So justice, while she winks at crimes,
Stumbles on innocence sometimes.
PART I. CANTO III. 81
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.
A Y me ! what perils do environ
JT\. 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,
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
I* th' -ditty call'd, < What if a Day ?' 10
For Hudibras, who thought h' had won
The field, as certain as a gun,
And having routed the whole troop,
With victory was cock-a-hoop,
Thinking h' had done enough to purchase is
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
TOL. i. a
82 HUDIBRAS.
Found in few minutes, to his cost,
He did but count without his host,
And that a turnstile is more certain
Than, in events of war, Dame Fortune.
For now the late faint-hearted rout, 25
O'erthrown and scatter'd round about,
Chas'd by the horror of their fear
From bloody fray of Knight and Bear
(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
0' the conquer'd and the conqueror,
Took heart again, and fac'd about 3">
As if they meant to stand it out :
For by this time the routed Bear,
Attack' d by th' enemy i' th' rear,
Finding their number grew too great
For him to make a safe retreat, 40
Like a bold chieftain 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
H' had got the advantage of the ground,
And then as valiantly made head
To check the foe, and forthwith fled,
Leaving no art untry'd, nor trick
Of warrior stout and politic, so
Until, in spite of hot pursuit,
36 VAK. ' Took heart of grace/
a7 VAR. ' For now the half-defeated Bear.'
PART I. CANTO III. 83
He gain'd a pass, to hold dispute
On better terms, and stop the course
Of the proud foe. With all his force
He bravely charg'd, and for 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, so
That he resolv'd, rather than yield,
To die with honour in the field,
And sell his hide and carcase at
A price as high and desperate
As e'er he could. This resolution 65
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 ? 70
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, 75
His rear was suddenly inclos'd,
And no room left him for retreat
Or fight against a foe so great.
For now the Mastiffs, charging home,
To blows and handy-gripes were come ; so
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.
84 HUDIBRAS.
This equal shame and envy stirr'd 86
In th' enemy, that one should beard
So many warriors, and so stout,
As he had done, and stav'd it out,
Disdaining to lay down his arms,
And yield on honourable terms. 90
Enraged thus, some in the rear
Attack'd him, and some ev'ry where,
Till down he fell ; yet falling fought,
And, being down, still laid about :
As Widdrington, in doleful dumps, 90
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 : 100
For Trulla, who was light of foot
As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot,
(But not so light as to be borne
Upon the ears of standing corn,
Or trip it o'er the water quicker 105
Than witches when their staves they liquor,
As some report), was got among
The foremost of the martial throng.
105 'As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot.' Mr. War-
burton is of opinion that 'long-filed' would be more proper;
as the Parthians were ranged in long files, a disposition pro
per for their manner of fighting, which was by sudden retreats
and sudden charges. Mr. Smith of Harleston, 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.
PART I. CANTO III. 85
Thore pitying the vanquish'd Bear,
She call'd to Cerdon, who stood near, no
Viewing the bloody fight; to whom,
Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum-drum,
And see stout Bruin, all alone,
By numbers basely overthrown ?
Such feats already h' has achiev'd m
In story not to be believ'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 ; i?o
But then we must about it straight,
Or else our aid will come too late :
Quarter he scorns, he is so stout,
And therefore cannot long hold out.
This said, they wav'd their weapons round 125
About their heads to clear the ground, ,
And joining forces, laid about
So fiercely, that th' amazed rout
Turn'd tail again, and straight begun,
As if the devil drove, to run. iso
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 Mastiffs 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, HO
Made proof against dead-doing steel
86 HUDIBRAS.
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 HJ
Encounter lost a leathern parcel.
For as an Austrian archduke once
Had one ear (which in dueatoons
Is half the coin) in battle par'd
Close to his head, so Bruin far'd ; 150
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, ieo
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 ics
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. i/c
For Orsin (who was more renown'd
For stout maintaining of his ground,
In standing fights, than for pursuit,
As being not so quick of foot)
PART I. CANTO 111. 87
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
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 185
The accents of his sad regret :
He beat his breast and tore his hair,
For loss of his dear crony Bear,
That Echo, frojn 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 ;
AndTwhen she has said all she can say,
'Tis wrested to the lover's fancy.
Quoth he, 0 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 I not here to take thy part ?
90 This 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 compre
hends a fine satire upon that false kind of wit of making an
echo talk sensibly, and give rational answers.
88 HUDIBEAS.
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 budget.
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 not 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 Avould 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 L-SO
He'd ferret him, lurk where he would.
PART I. CANTO III. 89
But scarce had he a furlong on
This resolute adventure gone,
When he encounter'd with that crew
Whom Hudibras did late subdue. 340
Honour, revenge, contempt, and shame,
Did equally their breasts inflame.
'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 said 255
I for the washing gave my head :
Nor did I turn my back for fear
0' th' rascals, but loss of my Bear,
Which now I'm like to undergo ;
For whether these fell wounds, or no, 2eo
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,
458 VAR. ' Of them, but losing of my Bear.'
90 HUDIBRAS.
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 :
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 mongrel vermin, Ralph,
That brav'd us all in his behalf. 230
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, 235
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 neigh'bring castle by,
PART I. CANTO III. 91
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.
But all in vain : h' had got a hurt,
0' th' inside, of a deadlier sort, sio
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, 315
Let fly an arfow 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 ache
And suffer griping for her sake,
Till purging comfits and ants' eggs 323
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. 330
She had a thousand jadish tricks,
sis 316 yARi < As how he did, and aiming right,
An arrow he let fly at Knight.'
92 HUDIBRAS.
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 sr,5
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
But against such as will not fight ; 310
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 Knignt 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
538 VAR. ' Ha-day !'
PART I. CANTO III. 93
He had endur'd from her disdain
Turn'd to regret so resolute, 3tJ5
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
A door to discontinu'd hope,
That seem'd to promise he might win 375
His dame too, now his hand was in ;
And that his valour, and the honour
H' had newly'gain'd, might Avork upon her.
These reasons made his mouth to water
With am'rous longings to be at her. 380
Quoth he, unto himself, Who knows
But this brave conquest o'er my foes
May reach her heart, and make that stoop,
As I but now have forc'd the troop ?
If nothing can oppugn love, 385
And virtue envious 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 shouldst thou fear
To be, that art, a conqueror ?
Fortune th' audacious doth juvare, 395
But lets the timidous miscarry :
94 HUDIBRAS.
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,
Then starts, and seizes on the wretch ;
So from his couch the Knight did start,
To seize upon the widow's heart, , 410
Crying, with hasty tone and hoarse,
Ralpho, despatch, 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 where he ensconc'd,
And had all th' avenues 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 comely sort 425
They now drew up t' attack the fort ;
When Hudibras, about to enter
Upon another-gates adventure,
To Ralpho call'd aloud to arm,
PART I. CANTO III. 95
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 said,
They took him napping in his bed ;
To them we leave it to expound
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, 415
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 rallied, and appears 455
As if they had outrun their fears.
The glory we did lately get,
The Fates command us to repeat ;
And to their wills we must succomb,
Quocunque trahunt, 'tis our doom. 4eo
437 VAR. ' Might be said.'
444 VAK. 'To take the field, and sally at.'
96 HUDIBRAS.
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 405
Our martial weapons in the field,
To tug for victory : and when
We shall our shining blades agen
Brandish in terror o'er our heads,
They'll straight resume their wonted dreads. 470
Fear is an ague, that forsakes
And haunts, by fits, those whom it takes ;
And they'll opine 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 nutbrown whinyard drew, 480
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 435
From heel of Knight to heel of steed.
Meanwhile the foe, with equal rage
And speed, advancing to engage,
Both parties now were drawn so close,
Almost to come to handy blows : 4no
When Orsin first let fly a stone
At Ralpho ; not so huge a one
m YAK. ' Haunts by turns.'
PART I. CANTO III. 07
As that which Diomed did maul
tineas on the bum withal,
Yet big enough, if rightly hurl'd, 495
T' have sent him to another Avorld,
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
Of th' enemy, now growing hot,
Might at a distance gall, press'd close .505
To come pell-mell to handy-blows.
And that he plight their aim decline
Advanc'd still in an oblique line ;
But prudently forebore to fire,
Till breast to breast he had got nigher, 510
As expert warriors use to do
When hand to hand they charge their foe.
This order the advent'rous Knight,
Most soldier-like, observ'd in fight ;
When Fortune (as she's wont) turn'd fickle. sis
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,
13 VAJI. ' He loos'd his weapon ' — and, ' He lost his
whinyard. '
VOL. i. n
98 HUDIBRAS.
But, laying fast hold on the mane,
Preserv'd his seat : and as a goose 525
In death contracts his talons close,
So did the Knight, and with one claw
The 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,
Pierc'd Talgol's gaberdine, 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. 5.50
For he with Cerdon b'ing engag'd
In close encounter, they both wag'd
545 — 543 yAK_ 'As Kalpho might, but he with care
Of Hudibras his hurt forbare.'
lts VAR. ' Hudibras his wound.'
561 VAE. ' He had with Cerdon;'
PART I. CANTO III. 99
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. seo
Ralpho press'd up to Hudibras,
And Cerdon where Magnano was,
Each striving to confirm his party
With stout encouragements and hearty.
Quoth Ralpho, Courage, valiant Sir, 565
And let revenge and honour stir
Your spirits jip ; 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 575
Wav'd o'er their heads, and fled as oft ;
But if you let them re-collect
Their spirits, now dismay'd and checkt,
You'll have a harder game to play
Than yet y' have had, to get the day. sso
Thus spoke the stout Squire, but was heard
By Hudibras with small regard ;
His thoughts were fuller of the bang
553 VAR. ' So desperately.'
560 VAR. 'And force their sullen rage to part.'
100 HUDIBRAS.
He lately took, than Ralph's harangue :
To which he ans\ver'd, Cruel Fate 586
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. soo
I am for action now unfit
Either of fortitude or wit,
Fortune, my foe, begins to frown,
Resolv'd to pull my stomach down.
I am not apt upon a wound, 595
Or trivial basting, to despond,
Yet I'd be loth my days to curtal ;
For if I thought my wounds not mortal,
Or that V had time enough as yet
To make an honourable retreat, eoo
'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, eos
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. eio
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 eu>
587 VAB, ' The clotted blood.'
PART I. CANTO III. 101
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 620
He was pull'd back, till, having found
Th' advantage of the rising ground.
Thither he led his warlike steed,
And, having plac'd him right, with speed
Prepar'd again to scale the beast ; 625
When Orsin. who had newly drest
The bloody scar upon the shoulder
Of Talgol with Promethean powder,
And now was searching for the shot
That laid Magnano on the spot, 630
Beheld the sturdy Squire aforesaid,
Preparing to climb 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, 63o
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, 6:0
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 645
His seat, and cast his right leg over :
617 VAR. ' The active Squire, with might and main,
Prepar'd in haste to mount again.'
102 HUDIBRAS.
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, cr>o
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 K5
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. eso
This, with the hazard of the Squire,
Inflam'd him with despiteful ire :
Courageously he fac'd about,
And drew his other pistol out,
And now had half-way bent the cock ; 665
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. e:o
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 075
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,
PART I. CANTO III. 103
And knows not which to turn him to ; eao
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 ess
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 thoti there,
And I shall straight despatch another 690
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 reoeiv'd,
Ran to relieve him with his lore, 635
And cure the hurt he gave before.
Meanwhile the Knight had wheel'd about
To breathe himself, and next find out
Th' advantage of the ground, where best
He might the ruffled foe infest. 700
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 artj 710
The subtle Knight straight made a halt,
And judg'd it best to stay th' assault,
104 HUDIBRAS.
Until he had relieved 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, 1-20
And we once more, as conquerors,
Have both the field and honour won ;
The foe is profligate and run :
I mean all such as can, for some
This hand hath sent to their long home ; 730
And some lie sprawling on the ground,
With many a gash and bloody wound.
Caesar himself could never say
He got two vict'ries in a day
As I have done, that can say, twice I 7:5
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 ; despatch,
And let us both their motions watch.
Quoth Ralph, I should not, if I were 45
PART 1. CANTO III. 105
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 hand to pull me up,
I shall lie here, and be a prey 755
To those who now are run away.
That thou shalt not (quoth Hudibras) :
We read the Ancients held it was
More honourable far servare
Civem than slay" an adversary : TOO
The one we oft to-day have done,
The other shall despatch anon ;
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, 7^
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 lust,
The pillage of the prisoners,
Which in all feats of arms was hers :
106 HUD1BJRAS.
And now to plunder Ralph she flew,
When Hudibras his hard fate drew 730
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, 790
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
Thou oifer'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, soo
And some to other worlds despatcht,
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 oft'
(And that I shall do sure enough), sio
Quarter thou canst not have nor grace,
PART I. CANTO III. 107
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, 915
To show how much she prized his speech),
Quarter or counsel from a foe ;
It thou canst force me to it, do :
But lest it should again be said,
When I have once more won thy head, SL>O
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'cl so1 home, 825
That he retir'd,"and follow'd 's bum.
Stand to 't, quoth she, or yield to mercy ;
It is jiot fighting arsie-versie
Shall serve thy turn. — This stirr'd his spleen
More than the danger he was in, sao
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 835
Above his head and rain'd a storm
Of blows so terrible and thick,
As if he meant to hash her quick.
But she upon her truncheon took them,
And by oblique diversion broke them, S4o
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
108 HUDIBRAS.
Resolving to decide the fight, 845
And she Avith 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, 850
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
I may have grace and quarter now ?
Or wilt thou rather break thy word, \
And stain thine honour than thy sword ? seo
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 : 870
My laurels are transplanted now,
And flourish on thy conqu'ring brow :
My loss of honour's great enough,
657-866 VAE.
' Shall I have quarter now, you ruffiu ?
Or wilt thou be worse than thy huffing?
Thou said'st th' would'st kill me, marry would'st thou?
Why dost thou not, thou Jack-a-nods thou ? '
PART I. CANTO III. 109
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 sso
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 deserved, 885
Base Slubberdegullion, to be serv'd
As thou did'st vow to deal with me
If thou hadst got the victory,
Yet I shall rather act a part
That suits my fame than thy desert : 890
Thy arms, thy liberty, beside
All that's on th' outside of 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 expung'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,
110 HTTDIBRAS.
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 gaberdine,
And with it did himself resign.
She took it, and forthwith divesting
The mantle that she wore, said jesting, 920
Take that, and wear it for my sake ;
Then threw it o'er his sturdy back.
And as the French we conquer'd once
Now give us laws for pantaloons,
The length of breeches and the gathers, 02.3
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, 9:50
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,
PART I. CANTO III. Ill
And vow'd they should not break her word : 940
Sh1 had 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 9i.~>
By Iludibras, 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. 9.50
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 achieved in fight
She should dispose of how she pleas'd ; ;>•>,-.
Crowdero ought to be releas'd,
Nor could that any way be done
So well as this she pitch'd upon :
For who a better could imagine ?
This therefore they resolv'd t' engage in. seo
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, 965
And Talgol that Avhich 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. : 70
In this proud order and array
They put themselves upon their way,
1 12 HTJDIBRAS.
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, oso
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 985
Begirt the magical redoubt.
Magnan' led up in this adventure,
And made way for the rest to enter :
For he was skilful in Black Art
No less than he that built the fort, ooo
And with an iron mace laid flat
A breach, which straight all enter'd at,
And in the wooden dungeon found
Crowdero laid upon the ground :
Him they release from durance base, 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 Hocklcy-i'-th'-hole,
Their bangs and durance to condole,
1003 YAK. ' t' the' wretched hole.'
PART I. CANTO III. 113
Confin'd and conjur'd into narrow 1005
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
(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, 1030
The active and the passive val'ant,
Both which are pan libra gallant ;
For both to give blows, and to carry,
In fights are equi-necessary :
But in defeats the passive stout 1035
Are always found to stand it out
Most desp'rately, and to outdo
VOL. I. I
114 HUDIBRAS.
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 fight,
Though drubb'd, can lose no honour by 't.
Honour's a lease for lives to come,
And cannot be extended from
The legal tenant : 'tis a chattel 1015
Not to be forfeited in battle.
If he that in the field is slain
Be in the bed of honour lain,
He that is beaten may be said
To lie in 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
Will judge us overgrown with wit. ioeo
As Gifted Brethren, preaching by
A carnal hour-glass, do imply
1061 1062 jn thogg 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 lay, 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 lazy; and, if he held out much 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. The iron frames of these hour-glasses still
PART I. CANTO III. 115
Illumination can convey
Into them what they have to say,
But not how much ; so well enough ices
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 anything would'st rail, 1075
Thou mak'st Presbytery thy scale
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
Thoij. to my beard wast bold to say
That thou could'st prove Bear-baiting, equal joss
With Synods, orthodox and legal ?
Do, if thou can'st ; for I deny 't,
And dare thee to 't with all thy light.
remain in some churches of our villages. If they liked his dis
course, 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 completes
it, now there is full leisure for it.
116 HUDIBRAS.
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 '11 find I Ve light enough to do it.
Synods are mystical Bear-gardens, 1095
Where Elders, Deputies, Churchwardens,
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 :
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: mo
Where Saints themselves are brought to stake
For Gospel-light and Conscience' sake ;
Expos'd to Scribes and Presbyters,
Instead of Mastiff Dogs and Curs ;
Than whom they've less humanity, ins
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 ; 1120
As is demonstrated at full
By him that baited the Pope's Bull.
PART I. CANTO III. 117
Bears nat'rally are beasts of prey,
That live by rapine ; so do they.
What are their Orders, Constitutions, 1125
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. mo
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 :
When pious frauds and holy shifts ius
Arc 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, n.-o
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, i u.s
118 HUD1BRAS.
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 ; ueo
By black caps underlaid with white
Give certain guess at inward light,
Which Serjeants at the Gospel wear,
To make the Sp'ritual Calling clear.
The handkerchief about the neck aes
(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,
H56 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 be
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 feel the mo
tions of the Spirit? In what year? in what mouth? in what
day ? about what hour of the day had you the secret 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 regeneration, predestina
tion, and the like.
1166 ' Smectymnus' was a club of holders-forth.
PART I. CANTO III. 119
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
Bel 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, nas
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,
Elders and Presbyters of Kirks ;
Whose directory was to kill,
And some believe it is so still.
The only diff'rence 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. 1200
Presbytery does but translate
The papacy to a free state :
A commonwealth of Popery,
Where ev'ry village is a See
As well as Rome, and must maintain 1203
A tithe-pig metropolitan ;
120 HUDIBRAS.
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, 1215
According to th' Apostle's mind,
'Tis that the whore of Babylon
With many heads did ride upon ;
Which heads denote the sinful tribe
Of Deacon, Priest, Lay-elder, Scribe. 1220
Lay-elder, Simeon to Levi,
Whose little finger is as heavy
As loins of patriarchs, prince-prelate,
And bishop-secular. This zealot
Is of a mongrel diverse kind, 1225
Clerick before and Lay behind ;
A lawless linsey-woolsey brother,
Half of one order, half another ;
A creature of amphibious nature,
On land a beast, a fish in water : 1200
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
PART I. CANTO III. 121
Whose talents jump not just with his ; 1240
He'll lay on Gifts with hands, and place
On dullest noddle Light and Grace,
The manufacture of the Kirk,
Whose pastors are but th' handywork
Of his mechanic paws, instilling 1215
Divinity in them by feeling;
From whence they start up Chosen Vessels,
Made by contact, as men get measles.
So Cardinals, they say, do grope
At th' other end the new-made Pope. 1250
Hold, hold, quoth Hudibras, Soft fire,
They say, does make sweet malt. Good Squire,
Fcstina lentt, not too fast,
For haste (the proverb says) makes waste.
The quirks and cavils thou dost make 1255
Are false and built upon mistake :
And I shall bring you, with your pack
Of fallacies, t' Elenchi back ;
And put your arguments in mood
And figure to be understood. iseo
I'lHbrce you by right ratiocination
To leave your vitilitigation,
And make you keep to th' question close
And argue dialectic's.
The question then, to state it first, 1205
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 worst ; for if they're idem,
Why then tantundem dat tantidem.
122 HUDIBRAS.
For if they are the same, by course
Neither is better, neither worse.
But I deny they are the same, 1275
More than a maggot and I 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 No :
And thus I prove it, in a word ; 1280
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, 1:95
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 ; isoo
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 1305
Most ugly and unnatural ;
PART I. CANTO III. 123
Whelp'd without form, until the dam
Has lickt it into shape and frame :
But all thy light can ne'er evict,
That ever Synod-man was lickt, mo
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 131-5
For Bears and Dogs, and Bearwards too :
A strange chimera of beasts and men,
Made up of pieces het'rogene ;
Such as in Natune never met
In eodem subjepto yet. 1320
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
Arcr all but plagiary shifts),
And is the same that Ranter said,
Who, arguing with me, broke my head, isso
And tore a handful of my beard :
i3» <pne Kanters Were a vile sect that sprung up hi 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 impostors ; 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 adminis
trations, and people are to be taught immediately from
God," &c.
1 24 HUDIBRAS.
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 ;
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 fore
fathers had no other books but the Score and the Tally,
thou hast caused Printing to be used ; and, contrary to the
King, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a Papermill.
It will be proved to thy face, that thou hast 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 universities,
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 Carpenter's,
nor any writing or reading but the Score and the Tally."
PAKT I. CANTO III. 125
Makes Light unactive, dull and troubled, 1345
Like little David in Saul's doublet :
A cheat that scholars put upon
Other men's reason and their own ;
A fort of error, to ensconce
Absurdity and ignorance, isoo
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 : iseo
For as in sword-and-buckler fight
All blows do on the target light,
So, when men argue, the great'st part
0' th' contest falls on terms of art,
Until the fustian stuff be spent, 1365
And then they fall to th' argument.
Quoth Hudibras, Friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable at last :
For thou art fallen on a new
Dispute, as senseless as untrue, 1370
But to 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
126 HTJDIBRAS.
T' evince thee by' ratiocination,
Some other time in place more proper
Than this we 're in ; therefore let 's stop here isso
And rest our weary'd bones a while,
Already tir'd with other toil.
PART II. CANTO I.
THE 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,
Which 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,
Arg. 12 VAR.
' The Knight being clapp'd by th' heels in prison,
The last unhappy expedition.'
Arg. * VAR. ' How he revi's,' &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 ^Eneid in the very same manner, 'At
regina gravi,' &c. And this is enough to satisfy the curiosity
of those who believe that invention and fancy ought to be
Jneasured, 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.'
PART II. CANTO I. 127
Exchang'd to love's more gentle style, 5
To let our reader breathe a while.
In which, that we may be as brief as
Is possible, by way of preface.
Is 't not enough to make one strange,
That some men's fancy 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 Jhrive in their amours,
By pulling plaisters off their sores ^^ 2Q
As cripples do to get an' alms,
Just so do they, and win their dames.
Some force whole regions, in despite
0' geography, to change their site ;
Make former times shake hands with latter, " 25
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. f 30
But we forget in what sad plight
We whilom left the captiv'd Knight
5-8 VAK. ' 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 wounds.'
10 VAR. ' That a man's fancy.'
35 VAR. ' We lately.'
128 HUDIBRAS.
And pensive Squire, both bruis'd in body,
And conjur'd into safe custody.
Tir'd with dispute, and speaking Latin, &
As well as basting and Bear-baiting,
And desperate of any course
To free himself by wit or force,
His only solace was, that now
His dog-bolt fortune was so low, 40
That either it must quickly end,
Or turn about again, and mend ;
In which he found th' event, no less
Than other times, beside his guess.
There is a tall long-sided dame, 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, 60
And eyes, and tongues, as poets list,
Made good by deep mythologist :
With these she through the welkin flies,
And sometimes carries truth, oft lies ;
With letters hung, like eastern pigeons, 55
And Mercuries of furthest regions ;
Diurnals writ for regulation
Of lying, to infor^i the nation,
And by their public use to bring down
The rate of whetstones in the kingdom. eo
About her neck a packet-mail,
48 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 inquired into, and
traced up to the original author, it is made to contradict
itself.
PART II. CANTO I. 129
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
And puppies whelp'd with twice two legs ;
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. 8u
Democritus ne'er laugh'd so loud
To see bawds carted through the crowd,
Or^junerals, 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 ; 90
And from his wooden jail, the stocks,
77 VAK. ' T wattling gossip.'
91 VAR. ' That is to see him deliver'd safe
Of s wooden burden, and Squire Raph.'
TOL. I. K
180 HUDIBRAS.
To set at large his fetter-locks ;
And by exchange, parole, or ransom,
To free him from th' enchanted mansion.
This b'ing resolv'd, she call'd for hood 95
And usher, implements abroad
Which ladies wear, beside a slender
Young waiting damsel to attend her.
All which appearing, on she went
To find the Knight, in limbo pent ; 100
And 'twas not long before she found
Him and his stout Squire in the pound,
Both coupled in enchanted tether
By further leg behind together.
For as he sat upon his rump, 105
His head, like one in doleful dump,
Between his knees, his hands apply'd
Unto his ears on either side,
And by him in another hole
Afflicted Ralpho, cheek by jowl ; no
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, 115
But straight he fell into a fever,
Inflam'd all over with disgrace
To be seen by her in such a place ;
111 112 There was never certainly a pleasanter scene ima
gined than this before us ; it is the most diverting incident
in the whole Poem. The unlucky and unexpected visit of
the Lady, the attitude and surprise of the Knight, the con
fusion 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.
PART II. CANTO I. 131
Which made him hang his head, and scowl,
And wink, and goggle like an owl : 120
He felt his brains be£,m to swim,
When thus the Dame accosted him.
This place (quoth she) they say 's enchanted,
And with delinquent spirits haunted.
That here are ty'd in chains and scourg'd 1-25
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, 130
With saucer eyes, and horns; and some
Have heard the devil beat a drum ;
But, if our eyes are not false glasses
That give a wrong account of faces,
That beard and I should be acquainted iss
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,
Hewe'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 145
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 ; iso
1<2 VAR. ' To take kind notice of his beard.'
132 HUDIBRAS.
Nor is it worn by fiend or elf,
But its proprietor himself.
0 heavens ! quoth she, can that be true ?
I do begin to fear 'tis you ;
Not by your individual whiskers. 155
But by your dialect and discourse,
That never spoke to man or beast
In notions vulgarly exprest :
But what malignant star, alas !
Has brought you both to this sad pass ? ieo
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 155
For being honourably maim'd :
If he 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 rente 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 ache, iso
To see so worshipful a friend
I' th' pillory set, at the wrong end.
164 VAK. ' In such elenctique case.'
PART II. CANTO I. 133
Quoth Hudibras, This thing call'd Pain
Is (as the learned Stoics maintain)
Not bad simpliciter, nor good, is-5
But merely as 'tis understood.
Sense is deceitful, and may feign
As well in counterfeiting pain
As other gross phenomenas,
In which it oft mistakes the case. 190
But since th' immortal intellect
(That's free from error and defect,
Whose objects still persist the same)
Is free from outward bruise 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. 200
Some have been wounded with conceit,
And died of mere opinion straight ;
Others, though wounded sore in reason,
Feltf no contusion nor discretion.
A Saxon duke did grow so fat 205
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
134 HUDIBRAS.
With pain no med'cine can assuage
Quoth he, That honour 's very squeamish
That takes a basting for a blemish ;
For what 's more hon'rable than scars,
Or skin to tatters rent in wars ? 220
Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel 's of by th' blow ;
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather ;
And yet have met, after long running, 225
With some whom 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, 230
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, 235
Our princes worship, with a blow.
King Pyrrhus cur'd his splenetic
And testy courtiers with a kick.
The Negus, when some mighty lord
Or potentate 's to be 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 :
332 VAK. 'Poltroons.'
239 A king of Ethiopia.
241 242 VAE. ' To his good grace for some offence
Forfeit before, and pardon'd since.'
PAR? II. CANTO I. 135
That done, he rises, humbly bows, 248
And gives thanks for the princely blows ;
Departs not meanly proud, and boasting
Of his magnificent rib-roasting.
The beaten soldier proves most manful
That, like his sword, endures the anvil ; 250
And justly 's held more formidable,
The more his valour 's malleable :
But he that fears a bastinado
Will run away from his own shadow.
And though 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 265
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 : 2:0
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
]3G HUDIBRAS.
To cast salt on a woman's tail :
For if I thought your nat'ral talent
Of passive courage were so gallant, 230
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, 235
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 ; 290
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 foil in love or .troth, 295
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 ; soo
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 20j
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 iu antique Roman urns sio
PAUT II. CANTO I. TiiT
To warm the dead, and vainly light
Those only that see n ;thing by 't.
Have you not power to entertain,
And render love for love again ?
As no man can draw in his breath sio
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.
Than you upon yourself would force ? 3L'o
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 doth 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 ? SGO
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 325
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 be 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.
M3 VAR. 'Fanatique.' Qy. 'Fantastic?'
138 H17D1BRAS.
Quoth he, To bid me not to love
Is to forbid my pulse to move,
My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, 345
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
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 agog,
To play with pages at leap-frog : seo
'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 3C5
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
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."
PART II. CANTO I. 139
'Twas he that made Saint Francis do
More than the dev'I could tempt him to,
In cold and frosty weather grow
Enamour'd of a wife of snow ;
And though she were of rigid temper, s/o
With melting flames accost and tempt her ;
Which after in enjoyment quenching,
He hung a garland on his engine.
Quoth she, If love have these effects,
Why is it not forbid our sex ? zso
Why is 't not damn'd and interdicted
For diabolical and wicked ?
And sung, as out of tune, against,
As Turk and Pope are by the Saints ?
I find I've greater reason for it, sss
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, 390
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, 395
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 maids love-sick,
And venture to be bury'd quick :
Some by their fathers and their brothers
140 HUDIBRAS.
To be made mistresses and mothers.
"Pis this that proudest dames enamours 406
On lacquies and varlets 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. 4iu
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 425
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.
405 VAR. ' Valets des charabres.'
416 VAR. ' Window eye.'
PART II. CANTO I. 141
But if you doubt I should reveal 435
What you intrust ir.e 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 :
Though love be all the world's pretence,
Money's the mythologic sense,
The real substance of the shadow 445
Which all address and courtship's made to.
Thought he, I understand your play,
And how to quit you your own way :
He that wilt win his dame must do
As Love does when he bends his bow ; 450
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 : 460
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 anything 465
But so much money as 'twill bring ?
Or what but riches is there known
142 HUDIBRAS.
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 :
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. 450
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 496
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
483 VAR. ' Swooning.'
PART II. CANTO I. 143
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, cos
To find what part is disaffected :
Your better way is to make over,
In trust, your fortune to your lover.
Trust is a trial ; if it break,
'Tis not so desp'rate as a neck : MO
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, sis
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. 520
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 '11 engage myself to settle. 530
Quoth he, My head's not made of brass,
As Friar Bacon's noddle was,
144 HUDIBRAS.
Nor (like the Indian's scull) so tough
That, authors say, 'twas musket proof;
As it had need to be, to enter 5S5
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. 540
Quoth she, The matter's not so far gone
As you suppose ; two words t' a bargain :
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 adamantine
As chains of Destiny I'll maintain ;
True as Apollo ever spoke, 555
Or oracle from heart of oak :
And if you'll give my flame but vent,
Now in close hugger-mugger pent,
And shine upon me but benignly
With that one and that other pigsney, 560
The sun and day shall sooner part
Than love and 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 565
PART II. CANTO I. 145
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 Champagne become. 570
Where'er you tread, your foot shall set
The primrose and the violet ;
All spices, perfumes, and sweet powders,
Shall borrow from your breath their odours ;
Nature her charter shall renew, C75
And take all lives of things from you ;
The world depend upon your eye,
And, when you frown upon it, die :
Only our loves shall still survive,
New worlds and Natures to outlive, sso
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 585
To catch me with poetic rapture,
In which your Mastery of Art
Doth shew itself, and not your heart ;
Nor will you raise in mine combustion
By dint of high heroic fustian. soo
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 695
T' embalm her cruelly alive ;
Or season her, as French cooks use ,£
Their hant-gouts, bouilles, or ragouts
TOL. T. L
146 HUDIBRAS.
Use her so barbarously ill
To grind her lips upon a mill, eoo
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, 605
'Where red and whitest colours mix ;
In which the lily and the rose
For Indian lake and ceruse goes.
The sun and moon, by her bright eyes
Eclips'd and darken'd in the skies, cio
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 eis
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 said,
Only the arrow's drawn to th' head, eso
Whether it be a swan or goose
PART II. CANTO I. 147
They level at : so shepherds use
To set the same mark on the hip
Both of their sound and rotten sheep :
For wits that carry low or wide, 635
Must be aim'd higher, or beside
The mark, which else they ne'er come nigh
But when they take their aim awry.
But I do wonder you should choose
This way t' attack me with your Muse, 640
As one cut out to pass your tricks on,
With fulhams of poetic fiction.
I rather hop'd I should no more
Hear from you o' th' gallanting score ;
For hard dry-bastings us'd to prove 643
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, ess
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 ; ceo
Yet give me quarter, and advance
To nobler aims your puissance ;
Level at beauty and at wit,
613 A cant word for false dice.
148 HUDIBRAS.
The fairest mark is easiest hit.
Quoth Hudibras, I'm beforehand ees
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, (.is
I've not the conscience to receive.
That conscience, quoth Hudibras,
Is misinform'd : I'll state the case.
A man may be a legal donor
Of any thing whereof he 's owner, cso
And may confer it where he lists,
I' the judgment of all casuists :
Then wit, and parts, and valour, may
Be ali'nated and made away
By those that are proprietors, 685
As I may give or sell my horse.
Quoth she, I grant the case is true
And proper 'twixt your horse and you :
But whether I may take, as well
As you may give away or sell ? 690
Buyers, you know, are bid beware ;
And worse than thieves receivers are.
How shall I answer Hue and Cry
For a Roan-gelding, twelve hands high,
All spurr'd and switch'd, a lock on 's hoof, 695
A sorrel mane ? Can I bring proof
PART II. CANTO I. 149
Where, when, by whom, and what y' were sold for,
And in the open market toll'd 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
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, 715
Who first of all cut men o' th' stone
To mar their beards, and laid foundation
Qf 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
150 HT7DIBRAS.
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 735
B' experiment 'tis so or no.
Quoth he, If you'll join issue on't,
I'll give you sat'sfactory account ;
So you will promise, if you lose,
To settle all and be my spouse. 710
That never shall be done (quoth she)
To one that wants a tail, by me ;
For tails by Nature sure were meant,
As well as beards, for ornament ;
And though the vulgar count them homely, 715
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 ; 760
And if she ever gave that boon
To man, I'll prove that I have one ;
PART II. CANTO I. 151
I mean by postulate illation,
When you shall offer just occasion :
But since y' have yet deny'd to give 705
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 suff 'rings 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,
When by enchantment they have been,
And sometimes for it too, laid in ; 730
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, 735
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
152 HUDIBRAS.
It is not in my pow'r to do ;
For 'tis a service must be done yc
With solemn previous ceremony,
Which always has been us'd t' untie
The charms of those who here do lie. goo
For as the Ancients heretofore
To Honour's temple had no door
But that which thorough Virtue's lay,
So from this dungeon there 's no way
To honour'd freedom, but by passing 3"j
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. 8io
Whipping, that 's Virtue's governess,
Tut'ress of arts and sciences,
That mends the gross mistakes of Nature,
And puts new life into dull matter,
That lays foundation for renown sio
And all the honours of the gown.
This suffer'd, they are set at large,
And freed with hon'rable discharge :
Then, in their robes, the penitentials
Are straight presented with credentials, 820
And in their way attended on
By magistrates of ev'ry town ;
And, all respect and charges paid,
They're to their ancient seats convey'd.
Now, if you'll venture, for my sake, 825
To try the toughness of your back,
And suffer (as the rest have done)
The laying of a whipping on,
PART II. CANTO 1. 153
(And may you prosper in your suit,
As you with equal vigour do 't), eao
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 don '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 ? sio
What med'cine else can curfe the fits
Of lovers when they lose their wits ?
Love is a boyl>y poets styl'd,
Then spare the rod, and spoil the child.
A Persian emp'ror whipp'd his grannam, s-is
The sea, his mother Venus came on ;
And henco some rev'rend men approve
Of rosemary in making love.
As skilful coopers hoop their tubs
With Lydian and with Phrygian dubs, 850
Why may not whipping have as good
A grace, perform'd in time and mood,
With comely movement, and by art
Raise passion in a lady's heart ?
It is an easier way to make 3.53
Love by, than that which many take.
Who would not rather suffer whipping,
Than swallow toasts of bits of ribbon ?
Make wicked verses, treats, and faces
831 VAR. ' I here engage to be your bayl,
And free you from th' unknightly jayl.'
154 HUDIBRAS.
And spell names over with beer-glasses ? seo
Be under vows to hang and die
Love's sacrifice, and all a lie ?
With China-oranges and tarts,
And whining plays, lay baits for hearts ?
Bribe chambermaids with love and money sas
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 suff 'ring 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 sio
For the Infanta Del Toboso ?
Did not th' illustrious Bassa make
Himself a slave for Misse's sake,
And with bull's pizzle, for her love,
Was taw'd as gentle as a glove ? 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 ; 890
And after in the Sessions court,
Where whipping's judg'd, had honour for 't ?
PART II. CANTO I. 155
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, 905
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
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, 915
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.
894 VAR. ( I'll free vou.'
156 HUDIBRAS.
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 sail
(Like bawd and brandy) with dispuk- ;
That for their own opinions stand fast,
Only to have them claw'd and canvast ;
That keep their consciences in cases,
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 Tally.
So th' ancient Stoics, in their porch,
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
2 VAR. ' Brandee.'
14 VAR. ' Montaign and Lully.'
PART II. CANTO II. 157
Made good with stout polemic brawl ; 20
In which some hundreds on the place
Were slain outright, and many a face
Retrenched of nose, and eyes, and beard,
To maintain what their sect averr'd.
All which the Knight and Squire, in wrath, 25
Had like 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 aching
'Twixt sleeping kept all night, 'and waking,
Began to rub his drowsy eyes, 35
And from his couch prepar'd to rise,
Resolving to despatch the deed
He vow'd to do, with trusty speed.
But first with knocking loud, and bawling,
He rous'd the Squire, in truckle lolling ; 40
And after many circumstances,
Whjch 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, so
He stopp'd, and paus'd upon the sudden,
48 VAR. ' Whipping duly swore.'
158 HUDIBJRAS.
And with a serious forehead plodding,
Sprung a new scruple in his head,
Which first he scratch'd and after said :
Whether it be direct infringing 55
An oath, if I should wave this swinging,
And what I've sworn to bear, forbear,
And so b' equivocation swear ;
Or whether 't be a lesser sin
To be forsworn than act the thing, eo
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
55 ** 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 evasions 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 HI. V. 547, &c. Archbishop Bramhall
says, " That the hypocrites of those times, though they mag
nified the obligation of an oath, yet in their own case dis
pensed with all oaths, civil, military, and religious. We are
now told," says he, " that the oaths we have taken are not to
be examined according to the interpretation of men : No !
How then ? — Surely according to the interpretation of devils."
PART II. CANTO II. 159
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 so
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
Contrition and mortification.
Is't not enough we're bruis'd and kicked
With sinful members of the Wicked ;
Our vessels, that are sanctify'd, 95
Profan'd and curry^d back and side ;
But we must claw ourselves with shameful
And Heathen stripes, by their example ?
Which (were there nothing to forbid it)
Is impious, because they did it. 100
This, therefore, may be justly 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.
160 HUD1BRAS.
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 us
You are a Reformado saint ;
And what the saints do claim as due,
You may pretend a title to.
But saints, whom oaths and vows oblige,
Know little of their privilege ; 120
Further (I mean) than carrying 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, J2o
I think there's little reason why :
Else h' has a greater power than they
Which 'twere impiety to say.
We're not commanded to forbear,
Indefinitely, at all to swear ; i.-jo
But to swear idly, and in vain,
Without self-interest or gain.
For breaking 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 :
ise \vhen 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
PART II. CANTO II. 161
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
With perjury, and carried on ?
Was there an oath the Godly took,
But in due time and place they broke ?
Did we not bring our oaths in first, 145
Before our plate, to have them burst,
And cast in fitter models for
The present use of Church and War ?
Did not our Worthies of the House,
Before they broke the peace, break vows ? lio
For, having freed us first froni 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, IDS
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 ; leo
And after march'd to find him out,
And charg'd him home with horse and foot ;
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, contrary to vows
and protestations, he affirmed " The Spirit would not let him
keep his word." And when, contrary to the public faith,
they murdered him, they pretended they could not resist the
motions of the Spirit.
VOL. I. M
162 HUTHBRAS.
But yet still had the confidence
To swear it was in his defence ? .
Did they not swear to live and die 165
With Essex, and straight laid him by ?
If that were all, for some have swore
As false as they, if 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 ? iso
So Cromwell, with deep oaths and vows,
Swore all the Commons out o' th' House ;
Vow'd that the Redcoats would disband,
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
PART II. CANTO II. 163
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. 200
A Saint 's of th' heav'nly realm a Peer j
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 215
Instructions, to all aims they drive at.
Then why should we ourselves abridge,
And curtail our own privilege ?
Quakers (that, like to lanterns, bear
Their light within 'em,) will not swear ; 220
Their Gospel is an Accidence,
By which they construe Conscience,
And hold no sin so deeply red,
As that of breaking Priscian's head
(The head and founder of their order, 225
That stirring hats held worse than murder).
These, thinking they're obliged to troth
In swearing, will not take an oath :
164 HUD1BRAS.
Like mules, who if they've not their will
To keep their own pace stand stock-still : 230
But they are weak, and little know
What free-born Consciences may do.
'Tis the temptation of the devil
That makes all human actions evil :
For Saints may do the same things by 225
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. 210
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 spico ;
And yet that thing that's pious in 2-15
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? :.v.o
She's of the Wicked, as I guess
B' her looks, her language, and her dress :
And though like constables we search
For false wares one another's Church ;
Yet all of us hold this for true, i>55
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 :
"Vet 'tis not fit that all men knew 200
Those mysteries and revelations ;
And therefore topical evasions
PART II. CANTO II. 165
Of subtle turns and shifts of sense,
Serve best with th' Wicked for pretence :
Such as the learned Jesuits use, 265
And Presbyterians, for excuse
Against the Protestants, when th' happen
To find their Churches taken napping.
As thus : A breach of Oath is duple,
And either way admits a scruple, 2:0
And may be ex parte of the maker
More criminal, than the injured 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 ; 275
Not he that for Convenience took it.
A broken oath is, quatenus oath,
As sound t' all purposes of'troth ;
As broken laws are ne'er the worse :
Nay, till they're broken have no force. sso
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 255
Those only that do make 'em such.
Beside, no engagement is alloVd
By men in prison made for good ;
For when they're set at liberty
They're from th' engagement too set free. 2?o
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
166 HUDIBBAS.
Might free him from the obligation :
And have not two Saints powV to use
A greater privilege than three Jews ?
The court of Conscience, which in man
Should be supreme and sovereign, 300
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 officio ?
Be forc'd t' impeach a broken hedge,
And pigs unring'd, at vis. franc, pledge ? 3io
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 poVr 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,
Appoint appearance and return ; 320
And make as nice distinctions 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 325
To judge that law that serves their turn ?
Make their own jealousies high treason,
And fix 'em whomsoe'er they please on ?
PART II. CANTO II. 167
Cannot the learned Counsel there
Make laws in any shape appear ? 330
Mould 'em as witches do their clay,
When they make pictures to destroy ;
And vex 'em into any form
That fits their purpose to do harm ?
Rack 'em until they do confess, 335
Impeach of treason whom they please,
And most perfidiously condemn
Those that engag'd their lives for them ;
And yet do nothing in their own sense,
But what they ought by Oath and Conscience? 340
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, 345
The same case sev'ral ways adjudge ;
As seamen with the self-same gale,
Will several diif'rent courses sail ?
As when the sea breaks o'er its bounds,
And overflows the level grounds, 350
Those banks and dams, that, like a screen,
Did keep it out, now keep it in ;
So, when 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'ry 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 ? sea
345 VAR. 'Grutch.' Ka VAB. 'tyrannic.'
168 HUDIBKAS.
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 ser.
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 pack't ?
Nature has made man's breast no windores,
To publish what he does within doors ; STO
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 ; 270
I think there 's little 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 ? iso
These reasons may perhaps look oddly
To th' Wicked, though they evince the Godly ;
But if they will not serve to clear
My Honour, I am ne'er the near.
Honour is like that glassy bubble zs:>
That finds philosophers such trouble,
Whose least part crackt, the whole does fly,
And wits are crackt to find out why.
Quoth Ralpho, Honour's but a word
To swear by only in a Lord : coo
In other men 'tis but a huff
To vapour with, instead of proof ;
That, like a wen, looks big and swells,
PART II. CANTO II. 169
Is senseless, and just nothing else.
Let it (quoth he) be what it will, 395
It has the world's opinion still.
But as men are not wise that run
The slightest 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
In" times of peace an Indian,
Not out of malice, but mere zeal
(Because he was an Infidel), 420
The mighty Tottipottymoy
Sent to our Elders an Envoy,
Complaining sorely of the breach
Of league, held forth by Brother Patch,
Against the articles in force 4-J
Between both Churches, his and ours ;
170 HUD1BRAS.
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 firking ;
For when thy vessel is new hoop'd,
All leaks of sinning will be stopp'd. 450
Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ;
For in all scruples of this nature
No man includes himself, nor turns
The point upon his own concerns.
As no man of his own self catches 455
The itch or amorous French aches ;
So no man does himself convince,
By his own doctrine, of his sins :
And though all cry down self, none means
PART II. CANTO H. 171
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 : 480
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, 435
As, ere we part, I shall evince it ;
And curry (if you stand out), whether
You will or no, your stubborn leather.
Canst thou refuse to bear thy part
I' th' public Work, base as thou art ? 490
To higgle thus for a few blows,
To gain thy Knight an op'lent spouse,
172 HUDIBRAS.
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 curmudgeon
If thou despatch it without grudging :
If not, resolve, before we go,
That you and I must pull a crow. soo
Y' had best (quoth Ralpho), as the Ancients
Say wisely, Have a care o' th main chance,
And Look before you ere you leap ;
For As you sow, y'are like to reap :
And were y' as good as George-a-Green, 505
I 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? r,io
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 cis
From hence to spring a variance,
And raise among themselves new scruples,
Whom common danger hardly cotiples.
Remember how in arms and politics
We still have worsted all your holy tricks ; £20
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, 525
PART II. CANTO II. 173
And after left it in the lurch,
A scaffold to build up our own,
And when w' had done with 't pull'd it down ;
Capoch'd your Rabbins of the Synod,
And snapp'd their Canons with a Why-not ; 530
(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, 543
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
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,
29 VAR. • O'er-reach'd.' ' Capoch'd' signifies hooded, or
blindfolded.
174 HUDIBRAS.
And, like a maggot in a sore,
Would that which gave it life devour ;
It never shall be done or said.
With that he seiz'd upon his blade ; 560
And Ralpho too, as quick and bold,
Upon his basket-hilt laid hold
With equal readiness, prepar'd
To draw and stand upon his guard :
When both were parted on the sudden sea
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 : sso
Yet neither of them would disparage,
By utt'ring of his mind, his courage,
Which made them stoutly keep their ground,
With horror and disdain wind-bound.
And now the cause of all their fear 535
By slow degrees approach'd so near
They might distinguish diff'rent noise
Of horns, and pans, and dogs, and boys,
387 VAR. ' They might discern respective noise.'
PART II. CANTO II. 175
And kettle-drums, whose sullen dub
Sounds like the hooping of a tub. 590
But when the sight appear'd in view,
They found it was an antique shew ;
A triumph that for pomp and state
Did proudest Romans emulate.
For as the Aldermen of Rome, 595
Their foes at training overcome
(And not enlarging territory,
As some mistaken write in story),
Being mounted in their best array
Upon a car — and who but they? — eoo
And follow'd with a world of tall lads
That merry dities 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 eos
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, eio
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.
Next pans and kettles of all keys, eio
From trebles down to double base ;
And after them, upon a nag
That might pass for a forehand stag,
596 VAR. ' For foes.'
cos eio VAK. ' cavalcade,' ' flagellet.'
614 VAS. ' Swedes.'
176 HUDIBRAS.
A cornet rode, and on his staff
A smock display'd did proudly wave : 620
Then bagpipes of the loudest drones
With snuffling broken-winded tones,
Whose blasts of air, in pockets shut,
Sound filthier than from the gut,
And make a viler noise than swine 625
In windy weather when they whine.
Next one upon a pair of panniers,
Full fraught with that which for good manners
Shall here be nameless, mix'd with grains,
Which he dispens'd among the swains, e;;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 635
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 ; 640
Near whom the Amazon triumphant
Bestrid her beast, and on the rump on t
Sat, face to tail and bum to bum,
The warrior whilom overcome,
Arm'd with a spindle and a distaff, 645
Which as he rode she made him twist off;
And when he loitcr'd, o'er her shoulder
Chastis'd the reformado soldier.
Before the Dame and round about
March'd whifflers and staffers on foot, eso
With lacquics, grooms, valets, and pages,
PART II. CANTO II. 177
In fit and proper equipages ;
Of whom some torches bore, some links,
Before the proud virago-minx,
That was both Madam and a Don, csa
Like Nero's Sporus or Pope Joan ;
And at fit periods the whole rout
Set up their throats with clam'rous shout.
The Knight transported, and the Squire,
Put up their weapons and their ire ; eoo
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 665
I ne'er saw so profane a show :
It is a Paganish invention
Which Heathen writers often mention ;
And he who made it had read Goodwin,
Or Ross, or Caelius Rhodogine, 070
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 a Roman conqueror 675
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 : 630
And as the Ancients long ago,
When they in field defy'd the foe,
Hung out their mantles della guerre,
So her proud Standard-bearer hero
VOL. I. N
178 HUD1BRAS.
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, 690
There 's one with truncheon, like a ladle,
That carries eggs too, fresh or addle ;
And still at random as he goes
Among the rabble-rout bestows.
Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter ; GK,
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, 700
And in the cause impatient Grizel
Has drubb'd her husband with bull's pizzle,
And brought him under Covert-baron,
To turn her vassal with a murrain ;
When wives their sexes shift, like hares, 703
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 7i'>
To be defeated by th' event,
Nor to be beaten by main force ;
PART II. CANTO II. 170
That does not make a man the worse,
Although his shoulders with battoon
Be claw'd and cudgel'd to some tune. 720
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, 725
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 Cucking-stool, 710
March proudly to the river's side,
And" o'er the waves in triumph ride ;
Like dukes of Venice, who are said
The Adriatic sea to wed,
And have a gentler wife than those 7 15
For whom the state decrees those shows.
But both are Heathenish, and come
From th' Whores of Babylon and Rome,
And by the Saints should be withstood,
As antichristian and lewd ; 750
180 HUDIBRAS.
And we as such should now contribute
Our utmost strugglings to prohibit.
This said, they both advanc'd, and rode
A dog-trot through the bawling crowd
T' attack the leader, and still prest Ki>
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 'Ion ride
Upon her horned Beast astride
Like this proud Dame, who either is 7e.o
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 w' had all been lost else ;
775 The women were zealous contributors to the Good
Cause, as they called it. Mr. James Howel 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 of females were
freer in their contributions, so far as to part with their rings
and earrings, as if some golden calf were to be molten and
set up to be idolized."
PART II. CANTO II. 181
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 ; 730
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 'em constant to the party 7so
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, 7'f5
On controverted points to eat ;
And cramm'd 'em till their guts did ache
With caudle, custard, and plum-cake.
What have they done or what left undone
That might advance the Cause at London ? soo
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.
907 VAR. 'Fell.'
182 HTJDIBRAS.
Have not the handmaids of the City
Chose of their Members a Committee, sio
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 sis
Hit him directly o'er the eye,
And, running down his cheek, besmear'd
With orange-tawny slime his beard ;
But beard and slime being of one hue,
The wound the less appear'd in view. 820
Then he that on the panniers rode
Let fly on 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, $25
And for his sword began to feel ;
And Ralpho, smother'd with the stink,
Grasp 'd his, when one that bore a link
0' th' sudden clapp'd his flaming cudgel,
Like linstock, to the horse's touch-hole; s?,o
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 ;
sis ait "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. 183
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, 811
With spurring put their cattle to 't ;
And till all four were out of wind,
And danger too, ne'er look'd behind.
After th' had paus'd a while, supplying 845
Their spirits spent with fight and flying,
And Hudibras recruited force
Of lungs for action or discourse :
Quoth he, That man is sure to lose
That fouls his hands with dirty foes : 8.30
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 noisome,
Their case-shot savour strong of poison,
And doubtless have been chew'd with teeth
Of some that had a stinking breath ; 860
Else when we put it to the push,
They had not giv'n us such a brush.
But as those pultroons that fling dirt
Do but defile but cannot hurt ;
So all the honour they have won, 865
Or we have lost, is much at one.
'Twas well we made so resolute
839 VAR. 'Rains.'
184 HUDIBRAS.
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 875
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 destined 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, 883
Advance in quest of nearest ponds ;
And after (as we first design'd)
Swear I've perform'd what she enjoin'd.
868 VAR. ' T' avoid pursuit.'
PART II. CANTO III. 185
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 Dcst'nies' resolution :
With 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 Kniglit.
DOUBTLESS the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated, as to cheat ;
As lookers-on ffeel most delight
That least perceive a juggler's sleight,
And still, the less they understand, 5
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. 10
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 is
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,
186 HUDIBRAS.
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 forage 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, 45
And with his inward man to justle.
He thought what danger might accrue,
If she should find he swore untrue ;
Or if his Squire or he should fail,
And not be punctual in their tale, 60
It might at once the ruin prove
25 VAE. ' Run after wizards.'
PART II. CANTO III. 187
Both of his honour, faith, and love.
But if he should forhear to go,
She might conclude h' had broke his vow ;
And that he durst not now for shame 55
Appear in court to try his claim :
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, eo
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 wjien 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,
188 HUDIBRAS.
How can I e'er expect to have her, 85
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, PO
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 : 100
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, 100
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 : 1 10
When brass and pewter hap to stray,
And linen slinks out o' the way ;
When geese and pullen are seduc'd,
toe \\TiHiam Lilly, the famous astrologer of those times,
•who in his yearly almanacks foretold victories for the
Parliament with as much certainty as the preachers did in
their sermons.
PART II. CANTO III. 189
And sows of sucking pigs are chous'd ;
When cattle feel indisposition, 115
And need th' opinion of physician ;
When murrain reigns in hogs or sheep,
And chickens languish of the pip ;
When yeast 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 i-j
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 'a no doubt of that ;
Those principles I quoted late iso
Prove that the Godly may allege
For anything 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, ' HO
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 sorna for sitting above ground,
190 HUDIBRAS.
Whole days and nights, upon their breeches,
And feeling pain, were hang'd for witches ;
And some for putting knavish tricks
Upon green geese and turkey-chicks, iso
Or pigs that suddenly deceast
Of griefs unnat'ral, as he guess'd ;
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? ieo
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 London'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 ? no
Do not our great Reformers use
This Sidrophel to forbode 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
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. 191
In Cornwall, horse and foot, next Spring ?
And has not he point-blank foretold
Whats'e'er the Close Committee would? iso
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, ISG
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, 190
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 195
Of this profound gymnosophist,
And, 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 ; 200
Where leave we him and Ralph a while,
And-to th' 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 aio
192 HUDIBRAS.
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 ;
So in the circle of the arts ais
Did he advance his nat'ral parts,
Till falling 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, I'-'fi
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 230
That has not in that foreign nation
A fellow of the self-same fashion ;
1124 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 conjuror,
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 Inno
cent IV. and summoned to appear at Rome." But this is a
mistake ; for the Pope's antipathy to him was occasioned by
his frankly expostulating with him (both personally and by
letter) on his encroachments upon the English 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. 193
So cut, so colour'd, and so curl'd,
As those are in th' inferior world.
H' had 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, 215
Or to the bum applying leeches ;
When sows and bitches may be spay'd,
And in what sign best cyder 's made ;
Whether the wjjne be, or increase,
Best to set garlic or sow pease ; 250
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 ;
With what designs and interests
Each party manages contests. 200
He made an instrument to know
135 Dee was a Welshman, and educated at Oxford, where
he commenced Doctor, and afterwards travelled into foreign
parts in quest of chemistry, &c.
238 Albertus Lascus, Lasky, or Alasco, Prince Palatine of
Poland, concerned with Dee and Kelly.
YOL. I. 0
194 HUDIBRAS.
If the moon shine at full or no ;
That would, as soon as e'er she shone, straight
Whether 'twere day or night demonstrate ;
Tell what her d'ameter to an inch is, 265
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, 270
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. 290
With lutestrings he would counterfeit
Maggots that crawl on dish of meat ;
Quote moles and spots on any place
0' th' body, by the index face ;
Detect lost maidenheads by sneezing, 285
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 toothache and catarrh ; 290
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 ;
PART II. CANTO III. 195
And fire a mine in China here 295
With sympathetic gunpowder.
He knew whats'ever 's to be known,
But much more than he knew would own.
What med'cine 'twas that Paracelsus
Could make a man with, as he tells us ; aoo
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 Cheerephon
In vain assay'd so long agone ;
Whether his snout a perfect nose is, 315
And not an elephant's proboscis ;
How many diffrent specieses
Of maggots breed in rotten cheese ;
And-which are next of kin to those
Engender'd in a chandler's nose ; 320
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, 325
3J5 « Whachum,' journeyman to Sidrophel, who -was one
' Tom Jones,' a foolish Welshman. In a key to a poem of
196 HUDIBRAS.
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. soo
From this, by merited degrees,
He'd to more high advancement rise,
To be an under conjurer,
Or journeyman astrologer :
His bus'ness was to pump and wheedle, r>5
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, sio
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, r,io
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
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
vear 1667.
PART II. CANTO III. 107
May be redeem'd ; or stolen plate SJG
Restor'd at conscionable rate.
Beside all this he serv'd hjs master
In quality of poetaster,
And rhymes appropriate could make
To ev'ry month i' th' almanack ; SP»
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, aw
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'rcl rhymes his spells,
Which, over ev'ry month's blank page :no
1' 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 ; ?,so
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, nsr.
Like Orpheus look'd among the beasts :
A carman's horse could not pass by,
198 HUDIBRAS.
But stood ty'd up to poetry ;
No porter's burthen pass'd along,
But serVd for burthen to his song : 890
Each window like a pill'ry appears,
With heads thrust through, nail'd by the ears ;
All trades run in as to the sight
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 liVd
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,
404 Mr. Butler alludes to one ' Fisk,' of whom Lilly oo-
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* 199
The strangest long-wing'd hawk that flies, 415
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 long, milk-white,
At th' end of which there hung a light, 420
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 Avide,
Bless us ! quoth he, What dreadful wonder 425
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 scroll
Of all those beasts, and fish, and fowl, 430
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, 43,")
Unless it be the 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, 440
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 445
Appear no bullet, but a star.
This said, he to his engine flew,
200 HUDIBRAS.
Plac'd near at hand, in open view,
And rais'd it till it levell'd right
Against the glow- worm-tail of kite, 450
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,
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, 4GO
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, 465
That kept the tow 'ring fowl on wing,
Breaking, down fell the star. Well shot,
Quoth Whachum, who right wisely thought
H' had levell'd at a star, and hit it ;
But Sidrophel, more subtle-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,
«7 William Sedgwick, a whimsical enthusiast, sometimes
a Presbyterian, sometimes an Independent, and at other
times an Anabaptist ; sometimes a prophet, and pretended to
PART II. CANTO III. 201
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'ncss :
He held a stirrup, while the Knight 495
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 : r.oo
HeTask'd him whence they came, and whither
Their bus'ness lay ? — Quoth Ralpho, Hither. —
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 Cambridgeshire ; 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.'
202 HUDIBRAS.
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 Ealpho, Sir, too long ;
Three years it off and on has hung. — sio
Quoth he, I meant what time o' th' day 'tis. —
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, .115
Which 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 ; 620
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, PM
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 arrived ?
Quoth Whachum, Venus you retriev'd, sso
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
PART II. CANTO III. 203
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, f>40
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 545
Your speculations, which I hop'd
Assistance from, and came 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
And 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 666
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
204 1IUDIBRAS.
Than th' oracle of sieve and shears
That turns as certain as the spheres : s:o
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,
You have a wrong sow by the ear ; sso
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, 5S5
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 ; £90
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 's more warrantable cgr.
Than cheat, or canting to a rabble,
Or putting tricks upon the moon,
Which by confed'racy are done.
Your ancient conjurers Avere wont
To make her from her sphere dismount, GOO
And to their incantations stoop ;
PART II. CANTO III. 205
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 005
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, eio
And straight resolves all questions by 't,
And seldom fails to be i' th' right.
The Rosycrucian way 's more sure
To bring the devil to the lure ;
Each of 'em has a sev'ral gin cis
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 ; (20
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 'cm :
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
il8 St. Dunstan was made Archbishop of Canterbury anno
061. 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 iu
honour of him yearly, on the 19th of May.
206 HUDIBRAS.
Of past and future mountebanks. eso
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 ess
I' th' garb and habit of a dog,
That was his tutor, and the cur
Read to th' occult philosopher,
And taught him subtly 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 carry, 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. eso
631 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 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
Eosemberg of Germany, the Emperor's Viceroy in Bohemia ;
were long of the society with him and Dr. Dee, and often
present at their apparitions, as was once the King of Poland
himself. But Lilly observes that he was so wicked that the
angels would not appear to him willingly, nor be obedient
to him.
PART II. CANTO III. 207
As for the Rosy-cross 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 'twere said by Trismegistus, eoo
If it be nonsense, false, or mystic,
Or not intelligible, or sophistic ?
'Tis not antiquity, nor author,
That makes truth truth, although time's daughter;
'Twas he that put her in the pit 665
Before he pulTd 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, 570
To be descended of a race
Of ancient kings in a small space,
691570 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, for
merly 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, a foundling and dray
man ; 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.
203 HUDIBRAS.
That we should all opinions hold
Authentic that we can make old.
Quoth Sidrophel, It is no part 67,
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) ; eso
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.
Do not the hist'ries of all ages eso
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 ? roo
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 crs
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 ? 700
Augustus having, b' 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 7<w>
PART II. CANTO III. 209
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, 710
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,
And should see further, and foreknow
More than their augury below? 720
Though that 6"hce serv'd the polity
Of mighty states to govern by ;
And this is what we take in hand
By powerful Art to understand ;
Which, how we have perform'd, all ages 725
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 ? 730
Made mountains with our tubes appear,
And cattle grazing en '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 lie :
For Anaxagoras, long agone,
Saw hills, as well as you, i' th' moon,
VOL. i. r
210 HUDIBRAS.
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 745
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? 700
What can our travellers bring home
That is not to be learnt at Rome ?
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 ? 7so
Or do they teach to sing and play
0' 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, 7G5
Or fight with more ingenious blows ?
Or does the man i' th' moon look big,
And wear a huger periwig ?
Shew in his gait or face more tricks
Than our own native lunatics ? 770
But if w' outdo him here at home,
PART II. CANTO III. 211
What good of your design can come ?
As wind i' th' hypocondries 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, 730
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? 785
Resolve that -with your Jacob's staff;
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
Ofsapience, 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 warders, soo
And, being then upon patrol,
With noise alone beat off the Gaul ; •
Or those Athenian sceptic owls
That will not credit their own souls,
212 HUDIBRAS.
Or any science understand 805
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 coffec-
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, 815
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, 620
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 825
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 not born and bred up here, eso
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 sso
In their old practices some skill ?
Is there a planet that by birth
PART II. CANTO III. 213
Does not derive its house from earth,
And therefore probably must know
What is and hath been done below ? sio
Who made the Balance, or whence came
The Bull, the Lion, and the Ram ?
Did not we here the Argo rig,
Make Berenice's periwig?
Whose liv'ry does the Coachman wear ? 545
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, 8.50
(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) ;
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 865
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. 870
214 HUDIBRAS.
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, 575
And, from him, modern authors hold.
Plato believ'd the sun and moon
Below all other planets run.
Some Mercury, some Venus, sea
Above the sun himself in height. sso
The learned Scaliger complain'd,
'Gainst what Copernicus maintain'd,
That, in twelve hundred years and odd,
The sun had left its ancient road,
And nearer to the earth is come gss
'Bove fifty thousand miles from home ;
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 ; soo
Which Monsieur Bodin hearing, 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 efs
Upon the tip o' th' Bear's tail's end,
That, as she whisk'd it t' wards the sun,
Strow'd mighty empires up and down ;
Which others say must needs be false,
Because your true bears have no tails. 900
675 VAR. ' And, 'twere not.'
894 VAR. ' He knew no more,' &c.
PART II. CANTO III. 215
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, 905
The wat'ry with the fiery rang'd :
Then how can their effects still hold
To be the same they were of old ?
This, though the art were true, would make
Our modern soothsayers mistake, 910
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
For want of Accidence and Latin,
Like Idus and Calenda3, Englisht
The Quarter-days, by skilful linguist :
And yet with canting, sleight, and cheat,
'Twill serve their turn to do the feat ; 020
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,
" YAP. ' 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.'
216 HUDIBRAS.
Have cast the 'verskl 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 ; 035
Some love, trade, law-suits, and the pox ;
Some take a measure of the lives
Of fathers, mothers, husbands, wives,
Make opposition, trine, and quartilc,
Tell who is barren and who fertile. 910
As if the planet's first aspect
The tender infant did infect
In soul and body, and instil
All future good and future ill ;
Which, in their dark fatal'ties lurking, 915
At destin'd periods fall a-working,
And break out, like the hidden seeds
Of long diseases, into deeds,
In friendships, enmities, and strife,
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, 953
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, 980
A crafty lawyer and pick-pocket,
956 VAK. 'Cookolded.
PART II. CANTO III. 217
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 965
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)
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 acco.unt 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' Avere bang'd both back and side well ;
218 HUDIBRAS.
And, though you overcame the Bear, f.v,
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, 1010
And what you lost I can produce,
If you deny it, here i' th' house.
Quoth Hudibras, I do believe
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 1025
Unanimous opinion ;
1010 VAR. ' Caldes'd.' Put the fortune-teller on him.
PART II. CANTO III. 219
A thing he long has vapour 'd of,
But now shall make it out by proof.
Quoth Sidrophel, I do not doubt
Tt> find friends that will bear me out ; 1030
Nor have I hazarded my art
And neck so long on the State's part
To be exposed i' th' end to suffer
By such a braggadocio huffer.
Huffer ! quoth Hudibras, this sword 1035
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. 1040
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 Avas all alone,
And he and Whachum two to one.
This being resolv'd, he spy'd by chance
Behind the door an iron lance, 1050
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, 105.5
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,
220 HUDIBRAS.
And in right manfully he rusht; IMO
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, IOGJ
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 part more
Hurts honour than deep wounds before. 1070
Quoth Hudibras, The stars determine
You are my prisoners, base vermin :
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 ? ioso
I'll give you quarter ; but your pillage,
The conqu'ring warrior's crop and tillage
Which with his sword he reaps and ploughs,
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 ; 1000
'A. copper-plate, with almanacks
Engrav'd upon 't, with other knacks
PART II. CANTO IIL 221
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, 1100
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,
Straight cast about to overreach
Th' unwary conqu'ror with a fetch, mo
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 vermin on a gallows hung,
And while the dogs run underneath,
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 speculatrix. 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.
222 BTTDIBKAS.
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 112.:
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 1 ?
Alive or dead? or which way came I mo
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 ! IHO
And there lies Whachum by my side
Stone dead, and in his own blood dy'd !
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, iif-o
But rather leave him in the lurch :
Thought he, He has abus'd our Church,
PART II. CANTO III.
Refus'd to give himself one firk
To carry on the Public Work ;
Despis'd our Synod-men like dirt,
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 ;
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,
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,
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 ifjie 'scape with whipping now,
'Tis more than he can hope to do ;
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,
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,
nco
1105
1170
liso
nss
224 IIUDIBRAS.
Assay'd the lofty beast to mount ;
Which once achiev'd, he spurr'd his palfrey
To get from th' enemy and Ralph free ;
Left danger, fears, and foes behind,
And beat, at least three lengths, the wind. nw>
AN HEROICAL EPISTLE*
OF HTTDIBRAS TO SIDBOPHEL.
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
* 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 Burlesque
Poem of Mr. Butler's, published 1706, p. 13, to have been
occasioned by Sir Paul Neal, a conceited virtuoso, and mem
ber of the Royal Society, who constantly affirmed that Mr.
Butler was not the author of Hudibras, which gave rise to
this Epistle ; and by some he has been taken for the real
Sidrophel of the poem. This was the gentleman, 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. 225
The desp'rat'st is the wisest course.
Is 't possible that you, whose ears
Are of the tribe of Issachar's, 10
And might (with equal reason) either
For merit or extent of leather,
With William Pryn's, before they were
Retrench'd and crucify'd, compare,
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 hastings 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 posscst
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'dj grow worse and worse ?
Can no transfusion of the blood,
That makes fools cattle, do you good ? 40
VOL. I. Q
226 HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL.
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 ;
Your arts of fluxing them for claps,
And purging their infected saps ; 50
Recov'ring shankers, crystallines,
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, eo
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, 65
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
HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL. 227
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. go
Hence 'tis that 'cause y' have gain'd o' th' college
A quarter share (at most) of knowledge,
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
86 Sir Politic Would-be, in Ben Jonson's ' Volpone.'
91 92 These two lines, I think, plainly discover that Lilly,
and not Sir Paul Neal, 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 com
mittee 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 ac
quired by his infamous practices, if we may credit his own
history.
228 HUD1BRAS TO SIDROPHEL,
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
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 ; 110
And put among his wants but shame,
To all the world may lay his claim :
Though you have try'd that nothing 's borne
With greater ease than public scorn,
That all affronts do still give place us
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 ; 120
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
105 VAK. 'Dostrovs.'
PART III. CANTO I. 229
As once they're broke loose from the moon,
And, proof against her influence,
Relapse to e'er so little sense,
To turn stark fools, and subjects fit
For sport of boys and rabble-wit^ iso
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 Rnight to woo her.
She treats them with a masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made ;
From which the Squire conveys the Kniglit,
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 ;
P6r then he 's brave and resolute,
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,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream, their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
230 HUDIBRAS.
And more untoward to be won 15
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,
For trusting those they made her kindred, 20
And still the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder ;
For what mad lover ever died
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. so
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, 40
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 and victorious, 45
He held th' achievement was too glorious
For such a conqueror to meddle
43 VAS. ' And us'd as.'
PART III. CANTO I. 231
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
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
F 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,
ResolvM to leave the Squire for bail
And mainprize for him to the jail, eo
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 h' had 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
232 IIUDIBRAS.
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, 85
To put them into am'rous twitters ;
Whose stubborn bowels scorn'd to yield,
Until 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 ; 100
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 ; nc
And when they should, at gaol delivery,
Unriddle one another's thievery,
Both might havo evidence enough
PART III. CANTO I. x 233
To render neither halter-proof:
He thought it desperate to tarry, us
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,
He would have offer'd him that day, 120
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 125
The Knight (for reasons told before)
Resolv'd to leave him to the fury
Of Justice, and an unpack'd jury,
The Squire co"hcurr'd t' abandon him,
And serve him in the self-same trim ; 130
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, 133
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, uc
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, 145
The Squire had got so much the start,
234 HTJDIBRAS.
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,
The sprucer to accost and board her :
And now began t' approach the door, iss
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, ieo
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 ache :
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
PART III. CANTO I. 235
His dark expressions less profound. iso
Madam, quoth he, I come to prove
How much I've suffer'd for your love,
Which (like your votary) to win,
I have not spar'd my tatter'd skin :
And, for those meritorious lashes, iss
To claim your favour and good graces.
Quoth she, I do remember once
I freed you from th' inchanted sconce,
And that you promis'd for that favour
To bind your back to 'ts good behaviour ; 190
And, for my sake and service, vow'd
To lay upon 't a heavy load,
And what 'twould 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 ; 200
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 ;
236 HUDIBRAS.
For most men carry things so even
Between this world, and hell, and heaven,
Without the least oft'ence to either, 215
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. 220
For that, quoth he, 'tis rational,
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 ; 230
For oaths are th' only tests and scales
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 ? 23o
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 215
PART III. CANTO I. 237
By Sidrophel the witch, and haunted
With evil spirits, as you know,
Who took my Squire and me for two,
Before I 'd hardly time to lay
My weapons by, and disarray, 2*0
I heard a formidable noise,
Loud as the Stentrophonic voice,
That roar'd far off, — Despatch, and strip,
I 'm ready with th' infernal whip,
That shall divest thy ribs of skin, 2o5
To expiate thy ling'ring sin ;
Th' hast broke perfidiously thy oath,
And not perfbrm'd thy plighted troth,
But spar'd thy renegado back,
Where th' hadst so great a prize at stake, 200
Which now the Fates have order'd me,
For penance and revenge to flea,
Unless thou presently make haste ;
Time is, time was : — and there it ceas'd.
With which, though startled, I confess, 265
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 ;
238 HTTDIBRAS.
When facing hastily about,
To stand upon my guard and scout, 280
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, 286
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,
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, 2%
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 ; 300
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, yv?
Till in a harsh and doleful tone
It roar'd, 0 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 : sio
Who sends me out on many a jaunt,
PART III. CANTO I. 239
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 Guinea-pepper ; 320
Make lechers, and their punks, with dewtry,
Commit phantastical advowtry ;
Bewitch Hermetic-men to run
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, ?.io
Which others for cravats have worn
About their necks', and took a turn.
I pity'd the sad punishment
The wretched caitiff underwent,
240 HUDIBRAS.
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 sos
A kind of broking-trade in love :
Employ'd in all th' intrigues and trust,
Of feeble speculative lust ;
Procurer to th' extravagancy
And crazy ribaldry of fancy, seo
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,
lie held his talent most adroit, 36o
For any mystical exploit,
As others of his tribe had done,
And rais'd their prices three to one :
For one predicting pimp has th' odds
Of chaldrons of plain downright bawds. 370
But as an elf (the devTs 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,
PART III. CANTO I. 241
I' th' rayst'ry of a lady-monger.
For (as some write) a witch's ghost,
As soon as from the body loos'd, sso
Becomes a puisney-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,
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 desserts, 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 feats h' had done,
The Lady stopt his full career, 400
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, «o
VOL. i. w
242 HUDIBRAS.
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
And drew upon him like a ruffin ;
Surpris'd 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 : wo
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, 435
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 ; 4«
Which (he could prove it) since he lost
He has been eaten up almost ;
And altogether might amount
PART III. CANTO I. 243
To many hundreds on account :
For which h' had got sufficient warrant 445
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 ; 450
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 andjne, you fled this way ;
And that he was upon pursuit,
To take you somewhere hereabout. 4«o
He vow'd he had intelligence
Of all that pass'd before and since,
And found that, ere you came to him,
Y' had been engaging life and limb
About a case of tender conscience, 46r>
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 ;
244 HUDIBRAS.
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, 480
(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
This vessel, that is all your own ;
Or may the heavens fall and cover 495
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 — 503
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
PART III. CANTO I. 245
What you would prove, than downright swearing ;
For if you have perform'd the feat, oi i
The blows are visible as yet,
Enough to serve for satisfaction
Of nicest scruples in the action ;
And if you can produce those knobs, rn
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 ; 530
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,
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,
Am 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, KS
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 pass'd in heaven on record, 510
Where all contracts, to have and t' hold,
Are everlastingly cnroll'd ;
246 HUDIBRAS.
And if 'tis counted treason here
To raze records, 'tis much more there.
Quoth she, There are no bargains driv'n, 545
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 ; 860
And therefore never can comply
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 scs
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
PART III. CANTO I. 247
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, sso
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 685
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
And gen'ral club of all the nation :
For which she's fortify'd no less
Than all the island, with four seas ;
Exacts the tribute of her dower,
In ready insolence and power, eoo
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, 005
She is not bound to justify,
Nor at her proper cost and charge
Maintain the feats he does at large.
248 HUDIBRAS.
Such hideous sots were those obedient
Old vassals, to their ladies regent, eio
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 615
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, 624
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,
But that 'tis of their own procuring. 6?o
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, 6>*
They'd break 'em after to break loose.
As some whom death would not depar!,
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,
PART III. CANTO I. 249
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, 645
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
And 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 ess
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 : ceo
For when he 's with love-powder laden,
And prim'd and cock'd by Miss or Madam,
The smallest sparkle of an eye
Gives fire to his artillery,
And off the loud oaths go, but, while 665
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 ; CTO
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.
250 HUDIBRAS.
Whence wittiest ladies always choose 675
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 ; 680
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 685
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 695
And turn as eager as prick'd wine ;
And all their caterwauling tricks,
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
PART III. CANTO I. 251
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 love^ 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 : 730
Wear, under vizard-masks, their talents
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 735
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
252 HUDIBRAS.
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 7ir>
Down all portcullises of ears,
And makes the volley of one tongue
For all their leathern shields too strong ;
When only arni'd with noise and nails,
The female silk- worms ride the males ; TOO
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, 7.rs
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. ;eo
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, 7C5
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,
PART III. CANTO I. 253
In shape and symmetry exact ;
Of which the left and female side <io
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,, 780
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 loot upon :
And so wouldthat 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 795
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,
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 805
In all the wonders she produces ;
254 HUDIBRAS.
And those that take their rules from her
Can never be deceived, 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. 820
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 825
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,
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,
PART III. CANTO 1. 255
Gould be preserv'd but by their heirs ? 840
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 815
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 ? 850
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 femme-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 difference marriage makes
'Twixt wives and ladies of the Lakes :
Besides the joys of place and birth,
The sex's paradise on earth, 870
A privilege so sacred held
That none will to their mothers yield,
250 HUDIBRAS.
But, rather than not go before,
Abandon heaven at the door :
And if th' indulgent law allows 675
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 ; sso
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 ess
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, 590
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 895
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, 900
And, to relieve their weariness,
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
PART III. CANTO I. 257
To be but new recruits of love,
When those who 're always kind or coy
In time must either tire or cloy.
Nor are their 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, 915
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 ; 920
Two slight alloy's 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 935
Become another's counterpart,
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. 930
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
This world for th' heaven of a lover ?
I grant (quoth she) there are some few
Who take that course, and find it true,
VOL. I. s
258 HUDIBRAS.
But millions whom the same does sentence
To heav'n b' another way, repentance. 940
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 845
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, 150
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 'a on the book,
And ' All my worldly goods ' but spoke i eo
(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, 965
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
Of all your lives and services, 970
And we, forsaken and postpon'd,
PART III. CANTO I. 259
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, oso
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 985
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 ; 990
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 995
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 ; 1000
To which you make address and courtship,
And with your bodies strive to worship,
That th' infant's fortunes may partake
Of love too for the mother's sake.
260 HUDIBRAS.
For these you play at purposes, 1005
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 be 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 11,15
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, 1025
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. 1030
Lord ! what an am'rous thing is. want !
How debts and mortgages enchant !
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
PART III. CANTO I. 261
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, io;,o
And, like a candle in the socket,
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, 105:.
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, loeo
To be the Wizard come to search,
And take him napping in the lurch,
loss 1054 TI^ pe,.sons -who knocked at the gate were, pro
bably, two of the lady's own servants : for as she and Ralpho
(who all the ti:ne lay in ambuscade) had been descanting
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, pursuant 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.
262 HUDIBRAS.
Turn'd pale as ashes or a clout,
But why or wherefore is a doubt ;
For men will tremble, and turn paler, ioes
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. ioso
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,
lose fwo famou3 an<| valiant princes of this country, the
one a Saxon, the other a Dane.
PART III. CANTO I. 263
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
Eelapse again t' his former fright.
He thought it desperate to stay
Till th' enemy had forc'd his way, 1100
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, thairbraver 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 ;
Ensconc'd himself as formidable 1115
As^could be underneath a table,
Where he lay down in ambush close,
T' expect tb' arrival of his foes.
Few minutes he had lain perdue,
To guard his desp'rate avenue, 1120
Before he heard a dreadful shout,
As loud as putting to the rout,
With which impatiently alarm'd,
He fancy5 d th' enemy had storm'd,
And, after ent'ring, Sidrophel 1125
Was fall'n upon the guards pell-mell :
1.04 HUDIBRAS.
He therefore sent out all his senses
To bring him in intelligences,
Which vulgars, out of ignorance,
Mistake for falling in a trance ; 1130
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, luo
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 scorn to trade or barter,
By giving or by taking quarter ; mo
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,
PART III. CANTO I. 2G5
But on his neck a sturdy elf noo
Clapp'd, in a trice, his cloven hoof,
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 carcass 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 mad& 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' enchantment of her riches
That made m' apply t' your crony witches ; iiso
That in return would pay th' expense,
The wear and tear of conscience,
WHlch 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. — use
Howwould'st th'have 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,
266 HUDIBRAS.
And bar her widow's making over
T' a friend in trust, or private lover. —
What made thee pick and choose her out 1195
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 ? 1200
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
PART III. CANTO I. 267
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
To domineer among the rabble, 1330
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, 1235
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 UMO
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 y3 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.
268 IIUD1BKAS.
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,
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* encroach 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 1275
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. 1230
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.
What makes a church a den of thieves ? — IJSE
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 ; 1-90
Morality, which both the Saints
PART III. CANTO I. 200
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
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 1305
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. 1310
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)
Buf 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. 1.320
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,
270 HUDIBRAS.
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 ; isso
And, though he shut his eyes as fast
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 1335
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, 1340
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 1355
Point-blank upon his case so fit ;
BelievM it was some drolling spright
PART III. CANTO I. 27J
That stay'd upon the guard that night,
And one of those h' had seen, and felt
The drubs he had so freely dealt ; i.seo
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, isai
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 ;) — 1.370
Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it,
By being more heroic-minded >
And at a ridiag 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 isss
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
272 HUDIBRAS.
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,
And hastily cry'd out, What art ? uoo
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 ; mo
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, HIS
And your diversion dull dry 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, 1420
As now you would have done by me,
But that I barr'd your raillery.
Sir (quoth the Voice), y' are no such sophy
PART III. CANTO I. 273
As you would have world judge of ye.
If you design to weigh our talents 1425
F th' standard of your own false balance,
Or think it possible to know
Us ghosts, as well as wre do you,
We who have been the everlasting
Companions of your drubs and basting, 1430
And never left you in contest,
With male or female, man or beast,
But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire,
In all adventures as your Squire.
Quoth he, That may be said as true us5
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 sefft him for a token
To your low country Hogen-Mogen, mo
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 1 145
What th' ill-affected say of you ;
Y' have '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 j 1450
But that no more concerns the Cause,
Than other perj'ries do the lawrs,
Which, when they 're prov'd in open court,
Wear wooden peccadilloes for 't :
And that 's the reason Covenantors 1455
Hold up their hands, like rogues at bars.
VOL. I. T
274 I1UDIBIIAS.
I sec (quoth Hudibras) from whence
These scandals of the Saints commence,
That are but natural effects
Of Satan's malice and his sects. neo
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, 1465
Or both the other put together :
For all the Independents do
Is only what you forc'd 'em to ;
You, who are not content alone
With tricks to put the devil down, u?o
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 : uso
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 uss
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 posscst
\
PART III. CANTO I. 275
Acts most against his interest ; uoo
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, H95
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,
T' oppose his entrance if he storm'd,
He never offers to surprise,
Although his falsest enemies ;
But is content to be their drudge, 1.^05
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 ; isio
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,
276 IIUDIBRAS.
And for a groat unpaid that 's due,
Distrain on soul and body too.
Thought he, 'Tis no mean part of civil if 2?.
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, isso
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 themselves or drown,
Or, frighted with our oratory, 1535
To leap down headlong many a story ;
Have us'd all means to propagate
Your mighty interests of state,
Laid out our sp'rittial gifts to further
Your great designs of rage and murther : 15-10
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 i.-,4,-.
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 '11 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, i,r.s:>
PART III. CANTO I. 277
You '11 find it hard to get away.
With that the Spirit grop'd about
To find th' enchanted hero out,
And try'd with haste to lift him up,
But found his forlorn hope, his crup, iseo
Unserviceable with kicks and blows
Receiv'd from harden'd-heartcd foes.
He thought to drag him by the heels,
Like Gresham-carts with legs for wheels ;
But fear, that soonest cures those sores, ises
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,
But both made ready to dislodge ; is;o
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 ;
WThere, finding out the postern lock'd, 1575
And th' avenues as strongly block'd,
H7 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, isso
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, 1535
But ne'er a saddle on his back,
Nor pistols at the saddle bow,
is7s VAK. ' tli' outer pastern.'
278 HUDIBRAS.
Convey 'd away, the Lord knows how.
He thought it was no time to stay,
And let the night, too, steal away ; 1590
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, is?s
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, leoo
And spurr d, as jockeys use to break,
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, ieoi
Which now come near an even rate.
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