by Samuel Butler
1  2  3  4  5  6     Next Part
Home - Random Browse


Transcriber's Notes:

Spelling and punctuation: These are the same as in the book as far as possible. The AE and OE digraphs have been transcribed as two letters. Greek words have been transliterated.

Notes: The notes are identified by letters in the text, thus: . In a few cases the note has no text reference: these are indicated .

Layout: the line numbers all end in col. 65. View this e-text in a monospaced font such as Courier and they will all line up in the right margin.

Latin: All translations are by the transcriber. In the notes, they immediately follow the Latin text in [square brackets]. Translations of Latin phrases in the poem are in the glossary. Disclaimer: these translations are probably very inaccurate - I am no great Latin scholar.





Poeta nascitur non fit, [poets are born, not made] is a sentence of as great truth as antiquity; it being most certain, that all the acquired learning imaginable is insufficient to compleat a poet, without a natural genius and propensity to so noble and sublime an art. And we may, without offence, observe, that many very learned men, who have been ambitious to be thought poets, have only rendered themselves obnoxious to that satyrical inspiration our Author wittily invokes:

Which made them, though it were in spight Of nature and their stars, to write.

On the one side some who have had very little human learning, but were endued with a large share of natural wit and parts, have become the most celebrated (Shakespear, D'Avenant, &c.) poets of the age they lived in. But, as these last are, "Rarae aves in terris," so, when the muses have not disdained the assistances of other arts and sciences, we are then blessed with those lasting monuments of wit and learning, which may justly claim a kind of eternity upon earth. And our author, had his modesty permitted him, might, with Horace, have said,

Exegi monumentum aere perennius: [I have raised a memorial more lasting than bronze]

Or, with Ovid,

Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis, Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetustas. [For I have raised a work which neither the rage of Jupiter, Nor fire, nor iron, nor consuming age can destroy.]

The Author of this celebrated Poem was of this his last composition: for although he had not the happiness of an academical education, as some affirm, if may be perceived, throughout his whole Poem, that he had read much, and was very well accomplished in the most useful parts of human learning.

Rapin (in his reflections) speaking of the necessary qualities belonging to a poet, tells us, he must have a genius extraordinary; great natural gifts; a wit just, fruitful, piercing, solid, and universal; an understanding clear and distinct; an imagination neat and pleasant; an elevation of soul, that depends not only on art or study, but is purely the gift of heaven, which must be sustained by a lively sense and vivacity; judgment to consider wisely of things, and vivacity for the beautiful expression of them, &c.

Now, how justly this character is due to our Author, we leave to the impartial reader, and those of nicer judgment, who had the happiness to be more intimately acquainted with him.

The reputation of this incomparable Poem is so thoroughly established in the world, that it would be superfluous, if not impertinent, to endeavour any panegyric upon it. King Charles II. whom the judicious part of mankind will readily acknowledge to be a sovereign judge of wit, was so great an admirer of it, that he would often pleasantly quote it in his conversation. However, since most men have a curiosity to have some account of such anonymous authors, whose compositions have been eminent for wit or learning, we have, for their information, subjoined a short Life of the Author.


Samuel Butler, the Author of this excellent Poem, was born in the Parish of Strensham, in the county of Worcester, and baptized there the 13th of Feb. 1612. His father, who was of the same name, was an honest country farmer, who had some small estate of his own, but rented a much greater of the Lord of the Manor where he lived. However, perceiving in this son an early inclination to learning, he made a shift to have him educated in the free-school at Worcester, under Mr. Henry Bright; where having passed the usual time, and being become an excellent school-scholar, he went for some little time to Cambridge, but was never matriculated into that University, his father's abilities not being sufficient to be at the charge of an academical education; so that our Author returned soon into his native county, and became clerk to one Mr. Jefferys, of Earl's-Croom, an eminent Justice of the Peace for that County, with whom he lived some years, in an easy and no contemptible service. Here by the indulgence of a kind master, he had sufficient leisure to apply himself to whatever learning his inclinations led him, which were chiefly history and poetry; to which, for his diversion, he joined music and painting; and I have seen some pictures, said to be of his drawing, which remained in that family; which I mention not for the excellency of them, but to satisfy the reader of his early inclinations to that noble art; for which also he was afterwards entirely beloved by Mr. Samuel Cooper, one of the most eminent painters of his time.

He was after this recommended to that great encourager of learning, Elizabeth Countess of Kent, where he had not only the opportunity to consult all manner of learned books, but to converse also with that living library of learning, the great Mr Selden.

Our Author lived some time also with Sir Samuel Luke, who was of an ancient family in Bedfordshire but, to his dishonour, an eminent commander under the usurper Oliver Cromwell: and then it was, as I am informed, he composed this loyal Poem. For, though fate, more than choice, seems to have placed him in the service of a Knight so notorious, both in his person and politics, yet, by the rule of contraries, one may observe throughout his whole Poem, that he was most orthodox, both in his religion and loyalty. And I am the more induced to believe he wrote it about that time, because he had then the opportunity to converse with those living characters of rebellion, nonsense, and hypocrisy, which he so livelily and pathetically exposes throughout the whole work.

After the restoration of King Charles II. those who were at the helm, minding money more than merit, our Author found that verse in Juvenal to be exactly verified in himself:

Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat Res angusta domi: [They do not easily rise whose virtues are held back by the straitened circumstances of their home]

And being endued with that innate modesty, which rarely finds promotion in princes' courts. He became Secretary to Richard Earl of Carbury, Lord President of the Principality of Wales, who made him Steward of Ludlow-Castle, when the Court there was revived. About this time he married one Mrs. Herbert, a gentlewoman of a very good family, but no widow, as the Oxford Antiquary has reported; she had a competent fortune, but it was most of it unfortunately lost, by being put out on ill securities, so that it was of little advantage to him. He is reported by the Antiquary to have been Secretary to his Grace George Duke of Buckingham, when he was Chancellor to the University of Cambridge; but whether that be true or no, it is certain, the Duke had a great kindness for him, and was often a benefactor to him. But no man was a more generous friend to him, than that Mecaenas of all learned and witty men, Charles Lord Buckhurst, the late Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, who, being himself an excellent poet, knew how to set a just value upon the ingenious performances of others, and has often taken care privately to relieve and supply the necessities of those, whose modesty would endeavour to conceal them; of which our author was a signal instance, as several others have been, who are now living. In fine the integrity of his life, the acuteness of his wit, and easiness of his conversation, had rendered him most acceptable to all men; yet he prudently avoided a multiplicity of acquaintance, and wisely chose such only whom his discerning judgment could distinguish (as Mr. Cowley expresseth it)

From the great vulgar or the small.

And having thus lived to a good old age, admired by all, though personally known to few, he departed this life in the year 1680, and was buried at the charge of his good friend Mr. Longuevil, of the Temple, in the yard belonging to the church of St. Paul's Covent-garden, at the west-end of the said yard, on the north side, under the wall of the said church, and under that wall which parts the yard from the common highway. And since he has no monument yet set up for him, give me leave to borrow his epitaph from that of Michael Drayton, the poet, as the author of Mr. Cowley's has partly done before me:

And though no monument can claim To be the treasurer of thy name; This work, which ne'er will die, shall be An everlasting monument to thee.




————————————————————————- Sir Hudibras his passing worth, The manner how he sallied forth; His arms and equipage are shown; His horse's virtues, and his own. Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle Is sung, but breaks off in the middle. ————————————————————————-

When civil dudgeon first grew high, And men fell out they knew not why? When hard words, jealousies, and fears, Set folks together by the ears, And made them fight, like mad or drunk, 5 For Dame Religion, as for punk; Whose honesty they all durst swear for, Though not a man of them knew wherefore: When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded, 10 And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick, 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 wou'd 15 Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood; That never bent his stubborn knee To any thing but Chivalry; Nor put up blow, but that which laid Right worshipful on shoulder-blade; 20 Chief of domestic knights and errant, Either for cartel or for warrant; Great on the bench, great in the saddle, 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: 30 Some hold the one, and some the other; But howsoe'er they make a pother, The diff'rence was so small, his brain Outweigh'd his rage but half a grain; Which made some take him for a tool 35 That knaves do work with, call'd a fool, And offer to lay wagers that As MONTAIGNE, playing with his cat, Complains she thought him but an ass, Much more she wou'd 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 no such; We grant, although he had much wit, 45 H' was very shy of using it; As being loth to wear it out, And therefore bore it not about, Unless on holy-days, or so, As men their best apparel do. 50 Beside, 'tis known he could speak GREEK As naturally as pigs squeek; That LATIN was no more difficile, Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle: Being rich in both, he never scanted 55 His bounty unto such as wanted; But much of either would afford To many, that had not one word. For Hebrew roots, although they're found To flourish most in barren ground, 60 He had such plenty, as suffic'd To make some think him circumcis'd; And truly so, he was, perhaps, Not as a proselyte, but for claps.

He was in LOGIC a great critic, 65 Profoundly skill'd in analytic; He could distinguish, and divide A hair 'twixt south, and south-west side: On either which he would dispute, Confute, change hands, and still confute, 70 He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl, A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, 75 And rooks Committee-men and Trustees. He'd run in debt by disputation, And pay with ratiocination. All this by syllogism, true In mood and figure, he would do. 80 For RHETORIC, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope; And when he happen'd to break off I' th' middle of his speech, or cough, H' had hard words,ready to show why, 85 And tell what rules he did it by; Else, when with greatest art he spoke, You'd think he talk'd like other folk, For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools. 90 His ordinary rate of speech In loftiness of sound was rich; A Babylonish dialect, Which learned pedants much affect. It was a parti-colour'd dress 95 Of patch'd and pie-bald languages; 'Twas English cut on Greek and Latin, Like fustian heretofore on satin; It had an odd promiscuous tone, As if h' had talk'd three parts in one; 100 Which made some think, when he did gabble, Th' had heard three labourers of Babel; Or CERBERUS himself pronounce A leash of languages at once. This he as volubly would vent 105 As if his stock would ne'er be spent: And truly, to support that charge, He had supplies as vast and large; For he cou'd coin, or counterfeit New words, with little or no wit: 110 Words so debas'd and hard, no stone Was hard enough to touch them on; And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em, The ignorant for current took 'em; That had the orator, who once 115 Did fill his mouth with pebble stones When he harangu'd, but known his phrase He would have us'd no other ways. In MATHEMATICKS he was greater Than TYCHO BRAHE, or ERRA PATER: 120 For he, by geometric scale, Could take the size of pots of ale; Resolve, by sines and tangents straight, If bread or butter wanted weight, And wisely tell what hour o' th' day 125 The clock does strike by algebra. Beside, he was a shrewd PHILOSOPHER, And had read ev'ry text and gloss over; Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath, He understood b' implicit faith: 130 Whatever sceptic could inquire for, For ev'ry why he had a wherefore; Knew more than forty of them do, As far as words and terms cou'd go. All which he understood by rote, 135 And, as occasion serv'd, would quote; No matter whether right or wrong, They might be either said or sung. His notions fitted things so well, That which was which he could not tell; 140 But oftentimes mistook th' one For th' other, as great clerks have done. He could reduce all things to acts, And knew their natures by abstracts; Where entity and quiddity, 145 The ghosts of defunct bodies fly; Where truth in person does appear, Like words congeal'd in northern air. He knew what's what, and that's as high As metaphysic wit can fly; 150 In school-divinity as able As he that hight, Irrefragable; A second THOMAS, or, at once, To name them all, another DUNCE: Profound in all the Nominal 155 And Real ways, beyond them all: For he a rope of sand cou'd twist As tough as learned SORBONIST; And weave fine cobwebs, fit for skull That's empty when the moon is full; 160 Such as take lodgings in a head That's to be let unfurnished. He could raise scruples dark and nice, And after solve 'em in a trice; As if Divinity had catch'd 165 The itch, on purpose to be scratch'd; Or, like a mountebank, did wound And stab herself with doubts profound, Only to show with how small pain The sores of Faith are cur'd again; 170 Although by woeful proof we find, They always leave a scar behind. He knew the seat of Paradise, Could tell in what degree it lies; And, as he was dispos'd, could prove it, 175 Below the moon, or else above it. What Adam dreamt of, when his bride Came from her closet in his side: Whether the devil tempted her By a High Dutch interpreter; 180 If either of them had a navel: Who first made music malleable: Whether the serpent, at the fall, Had cloven feet, or none at all. All this, without a gloss, or comment, 185 He could unriddle in a moment, In proper terms, such as men smatter When they throw out, and miss the matter.

For his Religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit; 190 'Twas Presbyterian true blue; For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true Church Militant; Such as do build their faith upon 195 The holy text of pike and gun; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks; 200 Call fire and sword and desolation, A godly thorough reformation, Which always must be carried on, And still be doing, never done; As if religion were intended 205 For nothing else but to be mended. A sect, whose chief devotion lies In odd perverse antipathies; In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss; 210 More peevish, cross, and splenetick, Than dog distract, or monkey sick. That with more care keep holy-day The wrong, than others the right way; Compound for sins they are inclin'd to, 215 By damning those they have no mind to: Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshipp'd God for spite. The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. 220 Free-will 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 225 That which they love most tenderly; Quarrel with minc'd-pies, and disparage Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard through the nose. 230 Th' apostles of this fierce religion, Like MAHOMET'S, were ass and pidgeon, 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 accouter'd; 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 dye so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile: The upper part thereof was whey; 245 The nether, orange mix'd with grey. This hairy meteor did denounce The fall of scepters and of crowns; With grisly type did represent Declining age of government; 250 And tell with hieroglyphick spade, Its own grave and the state's were made. Like SAMPSON'S heart-breakers, it grew In time to make a nation rue; Tho' it contributed its own fall, 255 To wait upon the publick downfal, It was monastick, and did grow In holy orders by strict vow; Of rule as sullen and severe As that of rigid Cordeliere. 260 'Twas bound to suffer persecution And martyrdom with resolution; T' oppose itself against the hate And vengeance of th' incensed state; In whose defiance it was worn, 265 Still ready to be pull'd and torn; With red-hot irons to be tortur'd; Revil'd, and spit upon, and martyr'd. Maugre all which, 'twas to stand fast As long as monarchy shou'd 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. 280 So learned TALIACOTIUS from The brawny part of porter's bum Cut supplemental noses, which Wou'd last as long as parent breech; But when the date of NOCK was out, 285 Off drop'd the sympathetic snout.

His back, or rather burthen, show'd, As if it stoop'd with its own load: For as AENEAS bore his sire Upon his shoulders thro' the fire, 290 Our Knight did bear no less a pack Of his own buttocks on his back; Which now had almost got the upper- Hand of his head, for want of crupper. To poise this equally, he bore 295 A paunch of the same bulk before; Which still he had a special care To keep well-cramm'd with thrifty fare; As white-pot, butter-milk, and curds, Such as a country-house affords; 300 With other vittle, which anon We farther shall dilate upon, When of his hose we come to treat, The cupboard where he kept his meat.

His doublet was of sturdy buff, 305 And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof; Whereby 'twas fitter for his use, Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.

His breeches were of rugged woollen, And had been at the siege of Bullen; 310 To old King HARRY so well known, Some writers held they were his own. Thro' they were lin'd with many a piece Of ammunition bread and cheese, And fat black-puddings, proper food 315 For warriors that delight in blood. For, as we said, he always chose To carry vittle in his hose, That often tempted rats and mice The ammunition to surprise: 320 And when he put a hand but in The one or t' other magazine, They stoutly in defence on't stood, And from the wounded foe drew blood; And 'till th' were storm'd and beaten out, 325 Ne'er left the fortify'd redoubt. And tho' Knights Errant, as some think, Of old did neither eat nor drink, Because, when thorough desarts 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 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 cou'd eat, When, laying by their swords and truncheons, 345 They took their breakfasts, or their nuncheons. But let that pass at present, lest We should forget where we digrest, As learned authors use, to whom We leave it, and to th' purpose come, 350

His puissant sword unto his side, Near his undaunted heart, was ty'd; With basket-hilt, that wou'd 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, 360 And ate unto itself, for lack Of somebody to hew and hack. The peaceful scabbard where it dwelt The rancour of its edge had felt; For of the lower end two handful 365 It had devour'd, 'twas so manful; And so much scorn'd to lurk in case, As if it durst not shew its face. In many desperate attempts, Of warrants, exigents, contempts, 370 It had appear'd with courage bolder Than Serjeant BUM invading shoulder. Oft had it ta'en possession, And pris'ners too, or made them run.

This sword a dagger had t' his page, 375 That was but little for his age; And therefore waited on him so, As dwarfs upon Knights Errant do. 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; tho' it were To bait 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. 390

In th' holsters, at his saddle-bow, Two aged pistols he did stow, Among the surplus of such meat As in his hose he cou'd not get. These wou'd inveigle rats with th' scent, 395 To forage when the cocks were bent; And sometimes catch 'em with a snap As cleverly as th' ablest trap. They were upon hard duty still, And ev'ry night stood centinel, 400 To guard the magazine i' th' hose From two-legg'd and from four-legg'd foes.

Thus clad and fortify'd, Sir Knight From peaceful home set forth to fight. But first with nimble, active force 405 He got on th' outside of his horse; For having but one stirrup ty'd T' his saddle, on the further side, It was so short, h' had much ado To reach it with his desp'rate toe: 410 But, after many strains and heaves, He got up to the saddle-eaves, From whence he vaulted into th' seat, With so much vigour, strength and heat, That he had almost tumbled over 415 With his own weight, but did recover, By laying hold on tail and main, Which oft he us'd instead of rein.

But now we talk of mounting steed, Before we further do proceed, 420 It doth behoves 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 wou'd say eye; for h' had but one, 425 As most agree; tho' some say none. He was well stay'd; and in his gait Preserv'd a grave, majestick state. At spur or switch no more he skipt, Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt; 430 And yet so fiery, he wou'd bound As if he griev'd to touch the ground: That CAESAR's horse , who, as fame goes Had corns upon his feet and toes, Was not by 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) Wou'd 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 plow'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 wou'd flurt, 450 Still as his tender side he prick'd, With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd kick'd: For HUDIBRAS wore but one spur; As wisely knowing, cou'd he stir To active trot one side of's horse, 455 The other wou'd 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 taylor. The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd With subtle shreds a tract of land, Did leave it with a castle fair To his great ancestor, her heir. 470 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 liberal art, that costs no pains Of study, industry, or brains. His wit was sent him for a token, 485 But in the carriage crack'd and broken. Like commendation nine-pence crook'd, With — To and from my love — it look'd. He ne'er consider'd it, as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth; 490 And very wisely wou'd lay forth No more upon it than 'twas worth. But as he got it freely, so He spent it frank and freely too. For Saints themselves will sometimes be 495 Of gifts, that cost them nothing, free. By means of this, with hem and cough, Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff, He cou'd 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-lanthorn of the Spirit, 505 Which none see by but those that bear it: A light that falls down from on high, For spiritual trades to cozen by An Ignis Fatuus, that bewitches And leads men into pools and ditches, 510 To make them dip themselves, and sound For Christendom in dirty pond To dive like wild-fowl for salvation, And fish to catch regeneration. This light inspires and plays upon 515 The nose of Saint like bag-pipe drone, And speaks through hollow empty soul, As through a trunk, or whisp'ring hole, Such language as no mortal ear But spirit'al eaves-droppers can hear: 520 So PHOEBUS, or some friendly muse, Into small poets song infuse, Which they at second-hand rehearse, Thro' reed or bag-pipe, verse for verse.

Thus RALPH became infallible 525 As three or four-legg'd oracle, The ancient cup, or modern chair; Spoke truth point-blank, tho' unaware.

For MYSTICK LEARNING, wond'rous able In magick 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, cou'd 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 wou'd do neither good nor harm: In ROSY-CRUCIAN lore as learned, 545 As he that Vere adeptus earned. He understood the speech of birds As well as they themselves do words; Cou'd tell what subtlest parrots mean, That speak, and think contrary clean: 550 What Member 'tis of whom they talk, When they cry, Rope, and walk, knave, walk. He'd extract numbers out of matter, And keep them in a glass, like water; Of sov'reign pow'r to make men wise; 555 For drop'd in blear thick-sighted eyes, They'd make them see in darkest night Like owls, tho' purblind in the light. By help of these (as he profess'd) He had First Matter seen undress'd: 560 He took her naked all alone, Before one rag of form was on. The Chaos too he had descry'd, And seen quite thro', or else he ly'd: Not that of paste-board which men shew 565 For groats, at fair of Barthol'mew; But its great grandsire, first o' the 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, O' th' younger house to Puppet-play. He cou'd foretel whats'ever was 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; away as good, And easy to be understood; 580 But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon themselves what others forge: As if they were consenting to 585 All mischiefs in the world men do: Or, like the Devil, did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em. They'll search a planet's house, to know Who broke and robb'd a house below: 590 Examine VENUS, and the MOON, Who stole a thimble or a spoon; And tho' they nothing will confess, Yet by their very looks can guess, And tell what guilty aspect bodes, 595 Who stole, and who receiv'd the goods. They'll question MARS, and, by his look, Detect who 'twas that nimm'd a cloke: Make MERCURY confess, and 'peach Those thieves which he himself did teach. 600 They'll find, i' th' physiognomies O' th' planets, all men's destinies.; Like him that took the doctor's bill, And swallow'd it instead o' th' pill Cast the nativity o' th' question, 605 And from positions to be guess'd on, As sure as it' they knew the moment Of natives birth, tell what will come on't. They'll feel the pulses of the stars, To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs; 610 And tell what crisis does divine The rot in sheep, or mange in swine In men, what gives or cures the itch; What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich; What gains or loses, hangs or saves; 615 What makes men great, what fools or knaves, But not what wise; for only of those The stars (they say) cannot dispose, No more than can the Astrologians. There they say right, and like true Trojans. This RALPHO knew, and therefore took 620 The other course, of which we spoke.

Thus was the accomplish'd Squire endu'd With gifts and knowledge, per'lous shrew'd. Never did trusty Squire with Knight, Or Knight with Squire, e'er jump more right. 625 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. 630 Few miles on horseback had they jogged, But Fortune unto them turn'd dogged; For they a sad adventure met, Of which anon we mean to treat; But ere we venture to unfold 635 Atchievements so resolv'd and bold, We shou'd as learned poets use, Invoke th' assistance of some muse: However, criticks 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, 645 Did'st inspire WITHERS, PRYN , and VICKARS, And force them, tho' it was in spite Of nature and their stars, to write; Who, as we find in sullen writs, And cross-grain'd works of modern wits, 650 With vanity, opinion, want, The wonder of the ignorant, The praises of the author, penn'd B' himself, or wit-insuring friend; The itch of picture in the front, 655 With bays and wicked rhyme upon't; All that is left o' th' forked hill, To make men scribble without skill; Canst make a poet spite of fate, And teach all people to translate, 660 Tho' 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; 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 labor. 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: 680 For authors do affirm it came From Isthmian or Nemean game: Others derive it from the bear That's fix'd in northern hemisphere, And round about the pole does make 685 A circle like a bear at stake, That at the chain's end wheels about, And overturns the rabble-rout. For after solemn proclamation, In the bear's name, (as is the fashion, 690 According to the law of arms, To keep men from inglorious harms,) That none presume to come so near As forty foot of stake of bear, If any yet be so fool-hardy, 695 T' expose themselves to vain jeopardy, If they come wounded off, and lame, No honour's got by such a maim; Altho' the bear gain much, b'ing bound In honour to make good his ground, 700 When he's engag'd, and takes no notice, If any press upon him, who 'tis; But let's them know, at their own cost, That he intends to keep his post. This to prevent, and other harms, 705 Which always wait on feats of arms, (For in the hurry of a fray 'Tis hard to keep out of harm's way,) Thither the Knight his course did steer, To keep the peace 'twixt dog and bear; 710 As he believ'd he was bound to do In conscience, and commission too; And therefore thus bespoke the Squire.

We that are wisely mounted higher Than constables in curule wit, When on tribunal bench we sit, Like speculators shou'd foresee, From Pharos of authority, Portended mischiefs farther then Low Proletarian tything-men: 720 And therefore being inform'd by bruit, That dog and bear are to dispute; For so of late men fighting name, Because they often prove the same; (For where the first does hap to be, 725 The last does coincidere;) Quantum in nobis, have thought good, To save th' expence of Christian blood, And try if we, by mediation Of treaty and accommodation, 730 Can end the quarrel and compose The bloody duel without blows. Are not our liberties, our lives, The laws, religion and our wives, Enough at once to lie at stake 735 For Cov'nant and the Cause's sake? But in that quarrel dogs and bears, As well as we must venture theirs This feud, by Jesuits invented, By evil counsel is fomented: 740 There is a MACHIAVILIAN plot, (Tho' ev'ry Nare olfact is not,) A deep design in't, to divide The well-affected that confide, By setting brother against brother, 745 To claw and curry one another. Have we not enemies plus satis, That Cane & 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, Not for a thorough reformation, Nor covenant, nor protestation, Nor liberty of consciences, 765 Nor Lords and Commons ordinances; Nor for the church, nor for church-lands, To get them in their own no hands; Nor evil counsellors to bring To justice that seduce the King; 770 Nor for the worship of us men, Though we have done as much for them. Th' AEgyptians 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. 780 But no beast ever was so slight, For man, as for his God, to fight. They have more wit, alas! and know Themselves and us better than so. But we, who only do infuse 785 The rage in them like Boute-feus; 'Tis our example that instils In them th' infection of our ills. For, as some late philosophers. Have well observ'd, beasts, that converse 790 With man, take after him, as hogs Get pigs all the year, and bitches dogs. Just so, by our example, cattle Learn to give one another battle. We read, in NERO's time, the heathen, 795 When they destroy'd the Christian brethren, Did sew them in the skins of bears, And then set dogs about their ears: From thence, no doubt, th' invention came Of this lewd antichristian game. 800

To this, quoth RALPHO, Verily The point seems very plain to me. It is an antichristian game, Unlawful both in thing and name. First, for the name: the word, bear-baiting 805 Is carnal, and of man's creating: For certainly there's no such word In all the scripture on record; Therefore unlawful, and a sin; And so is (secondly) the thing. 810 A vile assembly 'tis, that can No more be prov'd 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 HOMAEOSIS, 830 Tussis pro crepitu, an art Under a cough to slur a f—t Thou wou'dst sophistically imply, Both are unlawful, I deny.

And I (quoth RALPHO) do not doubt 835 But bear-baiting may be made out, In gospel-times, as lawful as is Provincial or parochial classis; And that both are so near of kin, And like in all, as well as sin, 840 That put them in a bag, and shake 'em, Yourself o' th' sudden would mistake 'em, And not know which is which, unless You measure by their wickedness: For 'tis not hard t'imagine whether 845 O' th' two is worst; tho' I name neither.

Quoth HUDIBRAS, Thou offer'st much, But art not able to keep touch. Mira de lente, as 'tis i' th' adage, Id est, to make a leek a cabbage; 850 Thou'lt be at best but such 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? 860 If animal both of us may As justly pass for bears as they; For we are animals no less, Altho' of different specieses. But, RALPHO, this is not fit place 865 Nor time to argue out the case: For now the field is not far off, Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words, and such as suit Another manner of dispute; 870 A controversy that affords Actions for arguments, not words; Which we must manage at a rate Of prowess and conduct adequate To what our place and fame doth promise, 875 And all the godly expect from us, Nor shall they be deceiv'd, unless We're slurr'd and outed by success; Success, the mark no mortal wit, Or surest hand can always hit: 880 For whatsoe'er we perpetrate, We do but row, we're steer'd by Fate, Which in success oft disinherits, For spurious causes, noblest merits. Great actions are not always true sons 885 Of great and mighty resolutions; Nor do th' boldest attempts bring forth Events still equal to their worth; But sometimes fail, and, in their stead, Fortune and cowardice succeed. 890 Yet we have no great cause to doubt; Our actions still have borne us out; Which tho' they're known to be so ample, We need not copy from example. We're not the only persons durst 895 Attempt this province, nor the first. In northern clime a val'rous Knight Did whilom kill his bear in fght, And wound a fiddler; we have both Of these the objects of our wroth, 900 And equal fame and glory from Th' attempt of 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.

'Tis 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.

Notes to Part I, Canto I.

1. When civil a dudgeon, &c.] Dudgeon. Who made the alterations in the last Edition of this poem I know not, but they are certainly sometimes for the worse; and I cannot believe the Author would have changed a word so proper in that place as dudgeon for that of fury, as it is in the last Edition. To take in dudgeon, is inwardly to resent some injury or affront; a sort of grumbling in the gizzard, and what is previous to actual fury.

24 b That could as well, &c.] Bind over to the Sessions as being a Justice of the Peace in his County, as well as Colonel of a Regiment of Foot in the Parliament's army, and a committee-Man.

38 c As MONTAIGNE, &c.] Montaigne, in his Essays, supposes his cat thought him a fool, for losing his time in playing with her.

62 d To make some, &c.] Here again is an alteration without any amendment; for the following lines,

And truly, so he was, perhaps, Not as a Proselyte, but for Claps,

Are thus changed,

And truly so, perhaps, he was; 'Tis many a pious Christian's case.

The Heathens had an odd opinion, and have a strange reason why Moses imposed the law of circumcision on the Jews, which, how untrue soever, I will give the learned reader an account of without translation, as I find it in the annotations upon Horace, wrote by my worthy and learned friend Mr. William Baxter, the great restorer of the ancient and promoter of modern learning. Hor. Sat. 9. Sermon. Lib. I. — Curtis; quia pellicula imminuti sunt; quia Moses Rex Judoeorum, cujus Legibus reguntur, negligentia PHIMOZEIS medicinaliter exsectus est, & ne soles esset notabi omnes circumcidi voluit. Vet. Schol. Vocem. — (PHIMOZEIS qua inscitia Librarii exciderat reposuimus ex conjectura, uti & medicinaliter exsectus pro medicinalis effectus quae nihil erant.) Quis miretur ejusmodi convicia homini Epicureo atque Pagano excidisse? Jure igitur Henrico Glareano Diaboli Organum videtur. Etiam Satyra Quinta haec habet: Constat omnia miracula certa ratione fieri, de quibus Epicurei prudentissime disputant. [Circumcised: Moses the King of the Jews, by whose laws they are ruled, and whose foreskin overhung (the tip of his penis), had this blockage carelessly medicinally removed, and not wishing to be alone wanted them all to be circumcised. (We have tentatively restored the word BLOCKAGE, which the scribe's incompetence has omitted, and substituted medically removed for carried out by a doctor which was never there.) Who shall wonder that this kind of cutting caused an outcry by Epicureans and Pagans? It can be seen therefore, why Henricus Glareanus judged it an implement of the devil. So the Fifth Satire has it: It is certain that every miracle can be fitted into the philosophical systems which the Epicureans most carefully discuss.]

66 e Profoundly skill'd, &c.] Analytick is a part of logic, that teaches to decline and construe reason, as grammar does words.

93 f A Babylonish, &c.] A confusion of languages, such as some of our modern Virtuosi used to express themselves in.

103 g Or CERBERUS himself, &c.] Cerberus; a name which poets give a dog with three heads, which they feigned door- keeper of Hell, that caressed the unfortunate souls sent thither, and devoured them that would get out again; yet Hercules tied him up, and made him follow. This dog with three heads denotes the past, the present, and the time to come; which receive, and, as it were, devour all things. Hercules got the better of him, which shews that heroic actions are always victorious over time, because they are present in the memory of posterity.

115 h That had the, &c.] Demosthenes, who is said to have had a defect in his pronunciation, which he cured by using to speak with little stones in his mouth.

120 i Than TYCHO BRAHE, &c.] Tycho Brahe was an eminent Danish mathematician. Quer. in Collier's Dictionary, or elsewhere.

131 k Whatever Sceptick, &c.] Sceptick. Pyrrho was the chief of the Sceptick Philosophers, and was at first, as Apollodorus saith, a painter, then became the hearer of Driso, and at last the disciple of Anaxagoras, whom he followed into India, to see the Gymnosophists. He pretended that men did nothing but by custom; there was neither honesty nor dishonesty, justice nor injustice, good nor evil. He was very solitary, lived to be ninety years old, was highly esteemed in his country, and created chief priest. He lived in the time of Epicurus and Theophrastus, about the 120th Olympiad. His followers were called Phyrrhonians; besides which they were named the Ephecticks and Aphoreticks, but more generally Scepticks. This sect made their chiefest good to consist in a sedateness of mind, exempt from all passions; in regulating their opinions, and moderating their passions, which they called Ataxia and Metriopathia; and in suspending their judgment in regard of good and evil, truth or falsehood, which they called Epechi. Sextus Empiricus, who lived in the second century, under the Emperor Antoninus Pius, writ ten books against the mathematicians or astrologers, and three of the Phyrrhonian opinion. The word is derived from the Greek SKEPTESZAI, quod est, considerare, speculare. [To consider or speculate]

143 l He cou'd reduce, &c.] The old philosophers thought to extract notions out of natural things, as chymists do spirits and essences; and, when they had refined them into the nicest subtilties, gave them as insignificant names as those operators do their extractions: But (as Seneca says) the subtiler things are they are but the nearer to nothing. So are all their definitions of things by acts the nearer to nonsense.

147 m Where Truth, &c.] Some authors have mistaken truth for a real thing, when it is nothing but a right method of putting those notions or images of things (in the understanding of man) into the same and order that their originals hold in nature, and therefore Aristotle says Unumquodque sicut habet secundum esse, ita se habet secundum veritatem. Met. L. ii. [As every thing has a secondary essence, therefore it has a secondary truth]

148 n Like words congeal'd, &c.] Some report in Nova Zembla, and Greenland, mens' words are wont to be frozen in the air, and at the thaw may heard.

151 In School-Divinity as able, As o he that Hight, Irrefragable, &c.] Here again is another alteration of three or lines, as I think, for the worse. Some specific epithets were added to the title of some famous doctors, as Angelicus, Irrefragabilis, Subtilis, [Angelic, Unopposable, Discriminating] &c. Vide Vossi Etymolog. Baillet Jugemens de Scavans, & Possevin's Apparatus

153 p A Second THOMAS or at once, To name them all, another DUNCE. Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican friar, was born in 1224, and studied at Cologne and Paris. He new modelled the school- divinity, and was therefore called the Angelic Doctor, and Eagle of Divines. The most illustrious persons of his time were ambitious of his friendship, and put a high value on his merits, so that they offered him bishopricks, which he refused with as much ardor as others seek after them. He died in the fiftieth year of his age, and was canonized by Pope John XII. We have his works in eighteen volumes, several times printed.

Johannes Dunscotus 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 Scots alledge he was born at Duns, in the Mers, 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. [Scotland bore me, England reared me, France instructed me, Germany kept me.]

He died at Cologne, Novem. 8. 1308. In the Supplement to Dr. Cave's Historia Literaria, he is said to be extraordinary learned in physicks, metaphysicks, mathematicks, 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 us 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; [Discriminating (or, literally, Slender) Teacher] which was the reason also, that an old punster always called him the Lathy Doctor.

158 q As tough as, &c.] Sorbon was the first and most considerable college of the university of Paris, founded in time reign of St. Lewis, by Robert Sorbon, which name is sometimes given to the whole University of Paris, which was founded, about the year 741, by Charlemagne, at the persuasion of the learned Alcuinus, who was one of the first professors there; since which time it has been very famous. This college has been rebuilt with an extraordinary magnificence, at the charge of Cardinal Richlieu, and contains lodgings for thirty-six doctors, who are called the Society of Sorbon. Those which are received among them before they have received their doctor's degree are only said to be of the Hospitality of Sorbon. Claud. Hemeraus de Acad. Paris. Spondan in Annal.

173 r he knew, &c.] There is nothing more ridiculous than the various opinions of authors about the seat of Paradise. Sir. Walter Raleigh has taken a great deal of pains to collect them, in the beginning of his History of the World; where those, who are unsatisfied, may be fully informed.

180 s By a High-Dutch, &c.] Goropius Becanus endeavours to prove that High-Dutch was the language that Adam and Eve spoke in Paradise.

181 t If either of &c.] Adam and Eve being made, and not conceived and formed in the womb had no navels as some learned men have supposed, because they had no need of them.

182 u Who first made, &c.] Musick is said to be invented by Pythagoras, who first found out the proportion of notes from the sounds of hammers upon an anvil

232 w Like MAHOMET's &c.) Mahomet had a tame dove, that used to pick seeds out of his ear that it might be thought to whisper and inspire him. His ass was so intimate with him, that the Mahometans believed it carried him to heaven, and stays there with him to bring him back again.

257 x It was Monastick, and did grow In holy Orders by strict Vow. He made a vow never to cut his beard until the Parliament had subdued the King; of which order of phanatick votaries there were many in those times.

281 y So learned TALIACOTIUS &c.] Taliacotius was an Italian surgeon, that found out a way to repair lost and decayed noses. This Taliacotius was chief surgeon to the Great Duke of Tuscany, and wrote a treatise, De Curtis Membris, [Of Cut-off Parts] which he dedicates to his great master wherein he not only declares the models of his wonderful operations in restoring of lost members, but gives you cuts of the very instruments and ligatures he made use of therein; from hence our Author (cum poetica licentia [with poetic licence]) has taken his simile.

289 z For as AENEAS, &c.] AEneas was the son of Anchises and Venus; a Trojan, who, after long travels, came to Italy, and after the death of his father-in-law, Latinus, was made king of Latium, and reigned three years. His story is too long to insert here, and therefore I refer you to Virgil's AEneids. Troy being laid in ashes, he took his aged father Anchises upon his back, and rescued him from his enemies. But being too solicitous for his son and household gods, he lost his wife Creusa; which Mr. Dryden, in his excellent translation, thus expresseth.

Haste my dear father (tis no time to wait,) And load my shoulders with a willing freight. Whate'er befals, your life shall be my care; One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share. My hand shall lead our little son; and you, My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue.

337 a — For ARTHUR, &c.] Who this Arthur was and whether any ever reigned in Britain, has been doubted heretofore, and is by some to this very day. However, the history of him, which makes him one of the nine worthies of the world, is a subject, sufficient for the Poet to be pleasant upon.

359 b — Toledo trusty, &c.] The capital city of New Castile, Spain, with an archbishopric and primacy. It was very famous, amongst other things, for tempering the best metal for swords, as Damascus was and perhaps may be still.

389 c But left the trade, as many more Have lately done, &c. Oliver Cromwell and Colonel Pride had been both brewers.

433 d That CAESAR's Horse, who, as Fame goes, Had corns upon his Feet and Toes. Julius Caesar had a horse with feet like a man's. Utebatur equo insigni; pedibus prope humanis, modum digitorum ungulis fissis. [He rode a horse with this distinction; it had feet like a man's, having the hooves split like toes] Suet. in Jul. Cap. 61.

467 c The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd With subtle Shreds a Tract of Land. Dido, Queen of Carthage, who bought as much land as she could compass with an ox's hide, which she cut into small thongs, and cheated the owner of so much ground as served her to build Carthage upon.

476 f As the bold, &c.] AEneas, whom Virgil reports to use a golden bough for a pass to hell; and taylors call that place Hell where they put all they steal.

526 g As three, &c.] Read the great Geographical Dictionary, under that word.

520 h In Magick, &c.] Talisman is a device to destroy any sort of vermin, by casting their images in metal, in a precise minute, when the stars are perfectly inclined to do them all the mischief they can. This has been experienced by some modern Virtuosi upon rats, mice, and fleas, and found (as they affirm) to produce the effect with admirable success.

Raymund Lully interprets cabal, out of the Arabic, to signify Scientia superabundans; which his commentator, Cornelius Agrippa, by over-magnifying, has rendered a very superfluous foppery.

532 i As far as, &c.] The author of Magia Adamica endeavours to prove the learning of the ancient Magi to be derived from that knowledge which God himself taught Adam in Paradise before the fall.

535 And much of Terra Incognita, The intelligible World cou'd say. The intelligible world is a kind of Terra Del Fuego, or Psittacorum Regio[Land of Parrots], &c. discovered only by the philosophers; of which they talk, like parrots, what they do not understand.

538 k learned &c.] No nation in the world is more addicted to this occult philosophy than the Wild-Irish are, as appears by the whole practice of their lives; of which see Camden in his description of Ireland.

539 l Or Sir AGRIPPA, &c.] They who would know more of Sir Cornelius Agrippa, here meant, may consult the Great Dictionary.

541 m He ANTHROPOSOPHUS and FLOUD, And JACOB BEHMEN understood. Anthroposophus is only a compound Greek word, which signifies a man that is wise in the knowledge of men, as is used by some anonymous author to conceal his true name. Dr. Floud was a sort of an English Rosy-crucian, whose works are extant, and as intelligible as those of Jacob Behmen.

545 n In ROSY-CRUCIAN Lore as learned As he that Vere Adeptus earned. The fraternity of the Rosy-crucians is very like the sect of the ancient Gnostici, who called them selves so from the excellent learning they pretended to, although they were really the most ridiculous sots of mankind. Vere Adeptus is one that has commenced in their phanatick extravagance.

646 o Thou that with Ale or viler Liquors, Didst inspire WITHERS, PRYN, and VICARS. This Vicars was a man of as great interest and authority in the late Reformation as Pryn or Withers, and as able a poet. He translated Virgil's AEneids into as horrible Travesty, in earnest, as the French Scaroon did in burlesque, and was only outdone in his way by the politic author of Oceana.

714 p We that are, &c.] This speech is set down as it was delivered by the Knight, in his own words: But since it is below the gravity of heroical poetry to admit of humour, but all men are obliged to speak wisely alike, and too much of so 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.

753 q In bloody, &c.] Cynarctomachy signifies no thing in the world but a fight between dogs and bears; though both the learned and ignorant agree that in such words very great knowledge is contained: And our Knight, as one, or both, of these, was of the same opinion.

758 r Or Force, &c.] Averruncate: Another of the same kind, which, though it appear ever so learned and profound, means nothing else but the weeding of corn.

777 s The Indians fought for the Truth Of th' Elephant and Monkey's Tooth. The History of the White Elephant and the Monkey's-Tooth, which the Indians adored, is written by Mons. le Blanc. This monkey's tooth was taken by the Portuguese from those that worshipped it; and though they offered a vast ransom for it, yet the Christians were persuaded by their priests rather to burn it. But as soon as the fire was kindled, all the people present were not able to endure the horrible stink that came from it, as if the fire had been made of the same ingredients with which seamen use to compose that kind of granados which they call stinkards.

786 t The Rage, &c.] Boute-feus is a French word, and therefore it were uncivil to suppose any English person (especially of quality) ignorant of it, or so ill-bred as to need an exposition.

903 u 'Tis sung, &c.] Mamaluke is the name of the militia of the Sultans of Egypt. It signified a servant or soldier. They were commonly captives taken from amongst the Christians, and instructed in military discipline, and did not marry. Their power was great; for besides that the Sultans were chosen out of their body, they disposed of the most important offices of the kingdom. They were formidable about 200 years; 'till at last Selim, Sultan of the Turks, routed them, and killed their Sultan, near Aleppo, 1516, and so put an end to the empire of Mamalukes, which had lasted 267 years. No question but the rhime to Mamaluke was meant Sir Samuel Luke, of whom in the Preface.

913 w Honour is like, &c.] Our English proverbs are not impertinent to this purpose:

He that woos a Maid, must seldom come in her sight: But he that woos a Widow, must woo her Day and Night. He that woos a Maid, must feign, lye, and flatter: But he that woos a Widow, must down with his Breeches, and at her.

This proverb being somewhat immodest, Mr Ray says he would not have inserted it in his collection, but that he met with it in a little book, intitled, the Quakers' Spiritual Court Proclaimed; written by Nathaniel Smith, Student in Physic; wherein the author mentions it as counsel given him by Hilkiah Bedford, an eminent Quaker in London, who would have had him to have married a rich widow, in whose house he lodged. In case he could get her, this Nathaniel Smith had promised Hilkiah a chamber gratis. The whole narrative is worth the reading.




————————————————————————- The catalogue and character Of th' enemies best men of war; Whom, in 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 cou'd prove, Was made of fighting and of love: Just so romances are; for what else 5 Is in them all, but love and battels? O' th' first of these we've no great matter To treat of, but a world o' th' latter; In which to do the injur'd right We mean, in what concerns just fight. 10 Certes our authors are to blame, For to make some well-sounding name A pattern fit for modern Knights To copy out in frays and fights; Like those that a whole street do raze 15 To build a palace in the place. They never care how many others They kill, without regard of mothers, Or wives, or children, so they can Make up some fierce, dead-doing man, 20 Compos'd of many ingredient valors, Just like the manhood of nine taylors. 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 down right, 30 It is a heavy case, no doubt; A man should have his brains beat out Because he's tall, and has large bones; As men kill beavers for their stones. But as for our part, we shall tell 35 The naked truth of what befel; And as an equal friend to both The Knight and Bear, but more to troth, With neither faction shall take part, But give to each his due desert; 40 And never coin a formal lie on't, To make the Knight o'ercome the giant. This b'ing profest, we've hopes enough, And now go on where we left off.

They rode; but authors having not 45 Determin'd whether pace or trot, (That is to say, whether tollutation, As they do term't, or succussation,) We leave it, and go on, as now Suppose they did, no matter how; 50 Yet some from subtle hints have got Mysterious light, it was a trot: But let that pass: they now begun To spur their living-engines on. 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. 60 So let them be; and, as I was saying, They their live engines ply'd, not staying Until they reach'd the fatal champain, Which th' enemy did then encamp on; The dire Pharsalian plain, where battle 65 Was to be wag'd 'twixt puissant cattle And fierce auxiliary men, That came to aid their brethren, Who now began to take the field, As Knight from ridge of steed beheld. 70 For as our modern wits behold, Mounted a pick-back on the old, Much further oft; much further he, Rais'd on his aged beast cou'd 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. 80 Meanwhile he stopp'd his willing steed, To fit himself for martial deed. Both kinds of metal he prepar'd, Either to give blows, or to ward: Courage and steel, both of great force, 85 Prepar'd for better, or for worse. His death-charg'd pistols he did fit well, Drawn out from life-preserving vittle. These being prim'd, with force he labour'd To free's sword from retentive scabbard 90 And, after many a painful pluck, From rusty durance he bail'd tuck. Then shook himself, to see that prowess In scabbard of his arms sat loose; And, 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' the head of all this warlike rabble, 105 CROWDERO march'd, expert and able. 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, 110 (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 Dispatch a friend, let others wait. His warped ear hung o'er the strings, Which was but souse to chitterlings: 120 For guts, some write, e'er they are sodden, Are fit for music, or for pudden; From whence men borrow ev'ry kind Of minstrelsy by string or wind. His grisly beard was long and thick, 125 With which he strung his fiddle-stick; 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; 130 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 chuse the boldest king, 135 And ruler, o'er the men of string; (As once in Persia, 'tis said, Kings were proclaim'd by a horse that neigh'd;) He bravely venturing at a crown, By chance of war was beaten down, 140 And wounded sore. His leg then broke, Had got a deputy of oak: For when a shin in fight is cropp'd, The knee with one of timber's propp'd, Esteem'd more honourable than the other, 145 And takes place, though the younger brother.

Next march'd brave ORSIN, famous for Wise conduct, and success in war: A skilful leader, stout, severe, Now marshal to the champion bear. 150 With truncheon, tipp'd with iron head, The warrior to the lists he led; With solemn march and stately pace, But far more grave and solemn face; Grave as the Emperor of Pegu 155 Or Spanish potentate Don Diego. This leader was of knowledge great, Either for charge or for retreat. He knew when to fall on pell-mell; To fall back and retreat as well. 160 So lawyers, lest the bear defendant, And plaintiff dog, should make an end on't, Do stave and tail with writs of error, Reverse of judgment, and demurrer, To let them breathe a while, and then 165 Cry whoop, and set them on agen. As ROMULUS a wolf did rear, So he was dry-nurs'd by a bear, That fed him with the purchas'd prey Of many a fierce and bloody fray; 170 Bred up, where discipline most rare is, In military Garden Paris. For soldiers heretofore did grow In gardens, just as weeds do now, Until some splay-foot politicians 175 T'APOLLO offer'd up petitions For licensing a new invention They'd found out of an antique engine, To root out all the weeds that grow In public gardens at a blow, 180 And leave th' herbs standing. Quoth Sir Sun, My friends, that is not to be done. Not done! quoth Statesmen; yes, an't please ye, When it's once known, you'll say 'tis easy. Why then let's know it, quoth Apollo. 185 We'll beat a drum, and they'll all follow. A drum! (quoth PHOEBUS;) troth, that's true; A pretty invention, quaint and new. But though of voice and instrument We are the undoubted president, 190 We such loud music don't profess: The Devil's master of that office, Where it must pass, if't be a drum; He'll sign it with Cler. Parl. Dom. Com. To him apply yourselves, and he 195 Will soon dispatch you for his fee. They did so; but it prov'd so ill, Th' had better let 'em grow there still. But to resume what we discoursing Were on before, that is, stout ORSIN: 200 That which so oft, by sundry writers, Has been applied t' almost all fighters, More justly may b' ascrib'd to this Than any other warrior, (viz.) None ever acted both parts bolder, 205 Both of a chieftain and a soldier. He was of great descent and high For splendour and antiquity; And from celestial origine Deriv'd himself in a right line. 210 Not as the ancient heroes did, Who, that their base-births might be hid, (Knowing they were of doubtful gender, And that they came in at a windore) Made Jupiter himself and others 215 O' th' gods, gallants to their own mothers, To get on them a race of champions, (Of which old Homer first made Lampoons.) ARCTOPHYLAX, in northern spheres Was his undoubted ancestor: 220 From him his great forefathers came, And in all ages bore his name. Learned he was in med'c'nal lore; For by his side a pouch he wore, Replete with strange Hermetic powder, 225 That wounds nine miles point-blank wou'd solder; By skilful chemist, with great cost, Extracted from a rotten post; But of a heav'nlier influence Than that which mountebanks dispense; 230 Tho' 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. 240

Thus virtuous ORSIN was endu'd With learning, conduct, fortitude, Incomparable: and as the prince Of poets, HOMER sung long since A skilful leech is better far 245 Than half an hundred men of war, So he appear'd; and by his skill, No less than dint of sword, cou'd 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 della guerre Of rough impenetrable fur; And in his nose, like Indian King, 255 He wore, for ornament, a ring; About his neck a threefold gorget. As rough as trebled leathern target; Armed, as heralds cant, and langued; Or, as the vulgar say, sharp-fanged. 260 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 vittle with. He was by birth, some authors write, 265 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 tho' 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 eat up his saddle; He was not half so nice as they, But eat it raw when 't came in's way. 280 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, 285 As stout as any upon earth is. Full many a fight for him between TALGOL and ORSIN oft had been Each striving to deserve the crown Of a sav'd citizen; the one 290 To guard his bear; the other fought To aid his dog; both made more stout By sev'ral spurs of neighbourhood, Church-fellow-membership, and blood But TALGOL, mortal foe to cows, 295 Never got aught of him but blows; Blows, hard and heavy, such as he Had lent, repaid with usury.

Yet TALGOL was of courage stout, And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought: 300 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 305 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, St. GEORGE did the dragon. Nor engine, nor device polemic, 31 5 Disease, nor doctor epidemic, Tho' stor'd with deletory med'cines, (Which whosoever took is dead since,) E'er sent so vast a colony To both the underworlds as he: 320 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 325 '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 AJAX' seven-fold shield, Which o'er his brazen arms he held: But brass was feeble to resist The fury of his armed fist: 340 Nor cou'd the hardest ir'n hold out Against his blows, but they wou'd 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 cou'd transform himself in colour 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. 360 A lance he bore with iron pike; Th' one half wou'd thrust, the other strike; And when their forces he had join'd, He scorn'd to turn his parts behind.

He TRULLA lov'd; TRULLA, more bright 365 Than burnish'd armour of her Knight: A bold virago, stout and tall, As JOAN of FRANCE, or English MALL. Thro' perils both of wind and limb, Thro' thick and thin, she follow'd him, 370 In ev'ry adventure h' undertook, And never him or it forsook. At breach of wall, or hedge surprize, She shar'd i' th' hazard and the prize: At beating quarters up, or forage, 375 Behav'd herself with matchless courage; And laid about in fight more busily Than the Amazonian dame Penthesile.

And though some criticks 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 wou'd not suffer the stoutest dame 385 To swear by HERCULES'S name) Make feeble ladies, in their works, To fight like termagants and Turks; To lay their native arms aside, Their modesty, and ride astride; 390 To run a-tilt at men, and wield Their naked tools in open field; As stout ARMIDA, bold TRALESTRIS, And she that wou'd have been the mistress Of GUNDIBERT; but he had grace, 395 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 who've seen't, 405 Or, what's as good, produc'd in print: And if they will not take our word, We'll prove it true upon record.

The upright CERDON next advanc't, Of all his race the valiant'st: 410 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: Ill 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 wou'd pierce, And cut it in a thousand pieces, 420 Tho' tougher than the Knight of Greece his, 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, 425 And were renown'd, as HOMER writes, For well-soal'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, 430 Until 'twas worn quite out of fashion. Next rectifier of wry LAW, And wou'd make three to cure one flaw. Learned he was, and could take note, Transcribe, collect, translate, and quote. 435 But PREACHING was his chiefest talent, Or argument, in which b'ing valiant, He us'd to lay about and stickle, Like ram or bull, at conventicle: For disputants, like rams and bulls, 440 Do fight with arms that spring from skulls.

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. 445 That which of CENTAUR long ago 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; 450 The self-same vigour, fury, wroth: Yet he was much the rougher part, And always had a harder heart; Although his horse had been of those That fed on man's flesh, as fame goes. 455 Strange food for horse! and yet, alas! 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 460 A critic too, in hog or neat. 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. 465 It was a question, whether he Or's horse were of a family More worshipful: 'till antiquaries (After th' had almost por'd out their eyes) Did very learnedly decide 470 The business on the horse's side; 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. 475

These worthies were the chief that led The combatants, each in the head Of his command, with arms and rage, Ready and longing to engage. The numerous rabble was drawn out 480 Of sev'ral counties round about, From villages remote, and shires, Of east and western hemispheres From foreign parishes and regions, Of different manners, speech, religions, 485 Came men and mastiffs; some to fight 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, 490 When HUDIBRAS in haste approach'd, With Squire and weapons, to attack 'em: But first thus from his horse bespake 'em: What rage, O citizens! what fury Doth you to these dire actions hurry? 495 What oestrum, what phrenetic mood, Makes you thus lavish of your blood, While the proud Vies your trophies boast And unreveng'd walks — ghost? What towns, what garrisons might you 500 With hazard of this blood subdue, Which now y'are bent to throw away In vain, untriumphable fray! Shall SAINTS in civil bloodshed wallow Of Saints, and let the CAUSE lie fallow? 505 The Cause for which we fought and swore So boldly, shall we now give o'er? Then, because quarrels still are seen With oaths and swearings to begin, The SOLEMN LEAGUE and COVENANT 510 Will seem a mere God-dam-me rant; 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, 515 Some will not stick to swear we do 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, 520 Is thrown away, and goes for nought. 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, 525 When 'twas resolv'd by either house 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 530 Join throats to cry the Bishops down? 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. 535 When tinkers bawl'd aloud to settle Church discipline, for patching kettle: No sow-gelder did blow his horn To geld a cat, but cry'd, Reform. The oyster-women lock'd their fish up, 540 And trudg'd away, to cry, No Bishop. The mouse-trap men laid save-alls by, And 'gainst Ev'l Counsellors did cry. Botchers left old cloaths in the lurch, And fell to turn and patch the Church. 545 Some cry'd the Covenant instead Of pudding-pies and ginger-bread; And some for brooms, old boots and shoes, Bawl'd out to Purge the Commons House. Instead of kitchen-stuff, some cry, 550 A Gospel-preaching Ministry; And some, for old suits, coats, or cloak, No Surplices nor Service-Book. A strange harmonious inclination Of all degrees to Reformation. 555 And is this all? Is this the end To which these carr'ings on did tend? Hath public faith, like a young heir, For this ta'en up all sorts of ware, And run int' every tradesman's book, 560 'Till both turn'd bankrupts, and are broke? 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. 565 Did they coin piss-pots, bowls, and flaggons, Int' officers of horse and dragoons; And into pikes and musquetteers Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers! A thimble, bodkin, and a spoon, 570 Did start up living men as soon As in the furnace they were thrown, Just like the dragon's teeth b'ing sown. Then was the Cause of gold and plate, The Brethren's off'rings, consecrate, 575 Like th' Hebrew calf, and down before it 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? 580 Beasts more unclean than calves or steers. 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? 585 Have they invented tones to win The women, and make them draw in The men, as Indians with a female Tame elephant inveigle the male? Have they told Prov'dence what it must do, 590 Whom to avoid, and whom to trust to? 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? 595 Told it the news o' th' last express, And after good or bad success, Made prayers, not so like petitions, As overtures and propositions, (Such as the army did present 600 To their creator, th' Parliament,) In which they freely will confess They will not, cannot acquiesce, Unless the work be carry'd on In the same way they have begun, 605 By setting Church and Common-weal All on a flame, bright as their zeal, On which the Saints were all a-gog, And all this for a bear and dog? The parliament drew up petitions 610 To itself, and sent them, like commissions, To well-affected persons down, In ev'ry city and great town, With pow'r to levy horse and men, Only to bring them back agen: 615 For this did many, many a mile, Ride manfully in rank and file, With papers in their hats, that show'd As if they to the pillory rode. Have all these courses, these efforts, 620 Been try'd by people of all sorts, Velis & remis, omnibus nervis And all t'advance the Cause's service? And shall all now be thrown, away In petulant intestine fray? 625 Shall we that in the Cov'nant swore, Each man of us to run before Another, still in Reformation, Give dogs and bears a dispensation? How will Dissenting Brethren relish it? 630 What will malignants say? videlicet, 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. 635 They'll say our bus'ness, to reform The Church and State, is but a worm; For to subscribe, unsight, unseen, To an unknown Church-discipline, What is it else, but before-hand 640 T'engage, and after understand? For when we swore to carry on The present Reformation, According to the purest mode Of Churches best reformed abroad, 645 What did we else, but make a vow 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 650 With theirs that swore et caeteras; 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, 655 If we permit men to run headlong T' exorbitances fit for Bedlam Rather than Gospel-walking times, When slightest sins are greatest crimes. But we the matter so shall handle, 660 As to remove that odious scandal. In name of King and parliament, I charge ye all; no more foment This feud, but keep the peace between Your brethren and your countrymen; 665 And to those places straight repair Where your respective dwellings are. But to that purpose first surrender The FIDDLER, as the prime offender, Th' incendiary vile, that is chief 670 Author and engineer of mischief; That makes division between friends, For profane and malignant ends. He, and that engine of vile noise, On which illegally he plays, 675 Shall (dictum factum) both be brought To condign punishment, as they ought. This must be done; and I would fain see Mortal so sturdy as to gain-say: For then I'll take another course, 680 And soon reduce you all by force. This said, he clapp'd his hand on sword, To shew he meant to keep his word.

But TALGOL, who had long supprest Inflamed wrath in glowing, breast, 685 Which now began to rage and burn as 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 690 On rump of justice as of cow; How dar'st thou, with that sullen luggage O' th' self, old ir'n, and other baggage, With which thy steed of bones and leather Has broke his wind in halting hither; 695 How durst th', I say, adventure thus T' oppose thy lumber against us? Could thine impertinence find out To work t' employ itself about, Where thou, secure from wooden blow, 700 Thy busy vanity might'st show? Was no dispute a-foot between The caterwauling Brethren? No subtle question rais'd among 705 Those out-o-their wits, and those i' th' wrong; No prize between those combatants O' 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 710 To us to be so troublesome, To interrupt our better sort Of disputants, and spoil our sport? Was there no felony, no bawd, Cut-purse, no burglary abroad; 715 No stolen pig, nor plunder'd goose, To tie thee up from breaking loose? No ale unlicens'd, broken hedge, For which thou statute might'st alledge, To keep thee busy from foul evil, 720 And shame due to thee from the Devil? 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; 725 To cheat, with holiness and zeal, All parties, and the common-weal? Much better had it been for thee, H' had kept thee where th' art us'd to be; Or sent th' on bus'ness any whither, 730 So he had never brought thee hither. But if th' hast brain enough in skull To keep itself in lodging whole, And not provoke the rage of stones And cudgels to thy hide and bones 735 Tremble, and vanish, while thou may'st, Which I'll not promise if thou stay'st. At this the Knight grew high in wroth, And lifting hands and eyes up both, Three times he smote on stomach stout, 740 From whence at length these words broke out:

1  2  3  4  5  6     Next Part
Home - Random Browse