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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=512564" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE ARGUMENT</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,<br>The one the other to renounce.<br>They both approach the Lady's Bower;<br>The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.<br>She treats them with a Masquerade,<br>By Furies and Hobgoblins made;<br>From which the Squire conveys the Knight,<br>And steals him from himself, by Night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r<br>T' enforce a desperate amour,<br>As he that has two strings t' his bow,<br>And burns for love and money too;<br>For then he's brave and resolute,<br>Disdains to render in his suit,<br>Has all his flames and raptures double,<br>And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,<br>While those who sillily pursue,<br>The simple, downright way, and true,<br>Make as unlucky applications,<br>And steer against the stream their passions.<br>Some forge their mistresses of stars,<br>And when the ladies prove averse,<br>And more untoward to be won <br>Than by CALIGULA the Moon,<br>Cry out upon the stars, for doing<br>Ill offices to cross their wooing;<br>When only by themselves they're hindred,<br>For trusting those they made her kindred;<br>And still, the harsher and hide-bounder<br>The damsels prove, become the fonder.<br>For what mad lover ever dy'd<br>To gain a soft and gentle bride?<br>Or for a lady tender-hearted, <br>In purling streams or hemp departed?<br>Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,<br>Through th' windows of a dazzling room?<br>But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,<br>The am'rous fly burnt in his flame. <br>This to the Knight could be no news,<br>With all mankind so much in use;<br>Who therefore took the wiser course,<br>To make the most of his amours,<br>Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways, <br>As follows in due time and place</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No sooner was the bloody fight,<br>Between the Wizard, and the Knight,<br>With all th' appurtenances, over,<br>But he relaps'd again t' a lover; <br>As he was always wont to do,<br>When h' had discomfited a foe<br>And us'd the only antique philters, <br>Deriv'd from old heroic tilters.<br>But now triumphant, and victorious,<br>He held th' atchievement was too glorious<br>For such a conqueror to meddle<br>With petty constable or beadle,<br>Or fly for refuge to the Hostess<br>Of th' Inns of Court and Chancery, Justice,<br>Who might, perhaps reduce his cause <br>To th' cordeal trial of the laws,<br>Where none escape, but such as branded<br>With red-hot irons have past bare-handed;<br>And, if they cannot read one verse<br>I' th' Psalms, must sing it, and that's worse.<br>He therefore judging it below him,<br>To tempt a shame the Devil might owe him,<br>Resolv'd to leave the Squire for bail<br>And mainprize for him to the gaol,<br>To answer, with his vessel, all,<br>That might disastrously befall;<br>And thought it now the fittest juncture<br>To give the Lady a rencounter,<br>T' acquaint her 'with his expedition, <br>And conquest o'er the fierce Magician; <br>Describe the manner of the fray, <br>And show the spoils he brought away,<br>His bloody scourging aggravate,<br>The number of his blows, and weight,<br>All which might probably succeed,<br>And gain belief h' had done the deed,<br>Which he resolv'd t' enforce, and spare<br>No pawning of his soul to swear,<br>But, rather than produce his back,<br>To set his conscience on the rack,<br>And in pursuance of his urging<br>Of articles perform'd and scourging,<br>And all things else, his part,<br>Demand deliv'ry of her heart, <br>Her goods, and chattels, and good graces,<br>And person up to his embraces.<br>Thought he, the ancient errant knights<br>Won all their ladies hearts in fights;<br>And cut whole giants into fritters, <br>To put them into amorous twitters<br>Whose stubborn bowels scorn'd to yield<br>Until their gallants were half kill'd<br>But when their bones were drub'd so sore<br>They durst not woo one combat more,<br>The ladies hearts began to melt,<br>Subdu'd by blows their lovers felt.<br>So Spanish heroes, with their lances,<br>At once wound bulls and ladies' fancies;<br>And he acquires the noblest spouse <br>That widows greatest herds of cows:<br>Then what may I expect to do,<br>Wh' have quell'd so vast a buffalo?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mean while, the Squire was on his way<br>The Knight's late orders to obey; <br>Who sent him for a strong detachment<br>Of beadles, constables, and watchmen,<br>T' attack the cunning-man fur plunder,<br>Committed falsely on his lumber;<br>When he, who had so lately sack'd <br>The enemy, had done the fact;<br>Had rifled all his pokes and fobs<br>Of gimcracks, whims, and jiggumbobs,<br>When he, by hook or crook, had gather'd,<br>And for his own inventions father'd <br>And when they should, at gaol delivery,<br>Unriddle one another's thievery,<br>Both might have evidence enough,<br>To render neither halter proof.<br>He thought it desperate to tarry,<br>And venture to be accessary<br>But rather wisely slip his fetters,<br>And leave them for the Knight, his betters.<br>He call'd to mind th' unjust, foul play<br>He wou'd have offer'd him that day, <br>To make him curry his own hide,<br>Which no beast ever did beside,<br>Without all possible evasion,<br>But of the riding dispensation;<br>And therefore much about the hour <br>The Knight (for reasons told before)<br>Resolv'd to leave them to the fury<br>Of Justice, and an unpack'd Jury,<br>The Squire concurr'd t' abandon him,<br>And serve him in the self-same trim; <br>T' acquaint the Lady what h' had done,<br>And what he meant to carry on;<br>What project 'twas he went about,<br>When SIDROPHEL and he fell out;<br>His firm and stedfast Resolution, <br>To swear her to an execution;<br>To pawn his inward ears to marry her,<br>And bribe the Devil himself to carry her;<br>In which both dealt, as if they meant<br>Their Party-Saints to represent, <br>Who never fail'd upon their sharing<br>In any prosperous arms-bearing<br>To lay themselves out to supplant<br>Each other Cousin-German Saint.<br>But, ere the Knight could do his part,<br>The Squire had got so much the start,<br>H' had to the Lady done his errand,<br>And told her all his tricks afore-hand.<br>Just as he finish'd his report,<br>The Knight alighted in the court; <br>And having ty'd his beast t' a pale,<br>And taking time for both to stale,<br>He put his band and beard in order,<br>The sprucer to accost and board her;<br>And now began t' approach the door,<br>When she, wh' had spy'd him out before<br>Convey'd th' informer out of sight,<br>And went to entertain the Knight<br>With whom encount'ring, after longees<br>Of humble and submissive congees, <br>And all due ceremonies paid,<br>He strok'd his beard, and thus he said:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Madam, I do, as is my duty,<br>Honour the shadow of your shoe-tye;<br>And now am come to bring your ear <br>A present you'll be glad to hear:<br>At least I hope so: the thing's done,<br>Or may I never see the sun;<br>For which I humbly now demand<br>Performance at your gentle hand <br>And that you'd please to do your part,<br>As I have done mine, to my smart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With that he shrugg'd his sturdy back<br>As if he felt his shoulders ake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But she, who well enough knew what <br>(Before he spoke) he would be at,<br>Pretended not to apprehend <br>The mystery of what he mean'd;.<br>And therefore wish'd him to expound<br>His dark expressions, less profound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Madam, quoth he, I come to prove<br>How much I've suffer'd for your love,<br>Which (like your votary) to win, <br>I have not spar'd my tatter'd skin<br>And for those meritorious lashes,<br>To claim your favour and good graces.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth she, I do remember once<br>I freed you from th' inchanted sconce;<br>And that you promis'd, for that favour,<br>To bind your back to good behaviour,<br>And, for my sake and service, vow'd<br>To lay upon't a heavy load,<br>And what 'twould bear t' a scruple prove,<br>As other Knights do oft make love<br>Which, whether you have done or no,<br>Concerns yourself, not me, to know.<br>But if you have, I shall confess,<br>Y' are honester than I could guess.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, if you suspect my troth,<br>I cannot prove it but by oath;<br>And if you make a question on't,<br>I'll pawn my soul that I have done't;<br>And he that makes his soul his surety,<br>I think, does give the best security.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth she, Some say, the soul's secure<br>Against distress and forfeiture<br>Is free from action, and exempt<br>From execution and contempt;<br>And to be summon'd to appear<br>In th' other world's illegal here; <br>And therefore few make any account<br>Int' what incumbrances they run't<br>For most men carry things so even<br>Between this World, and Hell, and Heaven,<br>Without the least offence to either, <br>They freely deal in all together;<br>And equally abhor to quit<br>This world for both or both for it;<br>And when they pawn and damn their souls,<br>They are but pris'ners on paroles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For that (quoth he) 'tis rational,<br>Th' may be accountable in all:<br>For when there is that intercourse<br>Between divine and human pow'rs,<br>That all that we determine here <br>Commands obedience every where,<br>When penalties may be commuted<br>For fines or ears, and executed<br>It follows, nothing binds so fast<br>As souls in pawn and mortgage past <br>For oaths are th' only tests and seals<br>Of right and wrong, and true and false,<br>And there's no other way to try<br>The doubts of law and justice by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Quoth she) What is it you would swear <br>There's no believing till I hear<br>For, till they're understood all tales<br>(Like nonsense) are not true nor false.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Quoth he) When I resolv'd t' obey<br>What you commanded th' other day, <br>And to perform my exercise,<br>(As schools are wont) for your fair eyes,<br>T' avoid all scruples in the case,<br>I went to do't upon the place.<br>But as the Castle is inchanted <br>By SIDROPHEL the Witch and haunted<br>By evil spirits, as you know,<br>Who took my Squire and me for two,<br>Before I'd hardly time to lay<br>My weapons by, and disarray <br>I heard a formidable noise,<br>Loud as the Stentrophonick voice,<br>That roar'd far off, Dispatch and strip,<br>I'm ready with th' infernal whip,<br>That shall divest thy ribs from skin,<br>To expiate thy ling'ring sin.<br>Th' hast broken perfidiously thy oath,<br>And not perform'd thy plighted troth;<br>But spar'd thy renegado back,<br>Where th' hadst so great a prize at stake;<br>Which now the fates have order'd me<br>For penance and revenge to flea,<br>Unless thou presently make haste:<br>Time is, time was: And there it ceas'd.<br>With which, though startled, I confess,<br>Yet th' horror of the thing was less<br>Than th' other dismal apprehension<br>Of interruption or prevention;<br>And therefore, snatching up the rod,<br>I laid upon my back a load;<br>Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood,<br>To make my word and honour good;<br>Till tir'd, and making truce at length,<br>For new recruits of breath and strength,<br>I felt the blows still ply'd as fast<br>As th' had been by lovers plac'd,<br>In raptures of platonick lashing,<br>And chaste contemplative bardashing;<br>When facing hastily about,<br>To stand upon my guard and scout, <br>I found th' infernal Cunning-man,<br>And th' under-witch, his CALIBAN,<br>With scourges (like the Furies) arm'd,<br>That on my outward quarters storm'd.<br>In haste I snatch'd my weapon up,<br>And gave their hellish rage a stop;<br>Call'd thrice upon your name, and fell<br>Courageously on SIDROPHEL;<br>Who, now transform'd himself a bear,<br>Began to roar aloud, and tear; <br>When I as furiously press'd on,<br>My weapon down his throat to run;<br>Laid hold on him; but he broke loose,<br>And turn'd himself into a goose;<br>Div'd under water, in a pond,<br>To hide himself from being found.<br>In vain I sought him; but, as soon<br>As I perceiv'd him fled and gone,<br>Prepar'd with equal haste and rage,<br>His Under-sorcerer t' engage. <br>But bravely scorning to defile<br>My sword with feeble blood and vile,<br>I judg'd it better from a quick-<br>Set hedge to cut a knotted stick,<br>With which I furiously laid on <br>Till, in a harsh and doleful tone,<br>It roar'd, O hold for pity, Sir<br>I am too great a sufferer,<br>Abus'd, as you have been, b' a witch,<br>But conjur'd into a worse caprich;<br>Who sends me out on many a jaunt,<br>Old houses in the night to haunt,<br>For opportunities t' improve<br>Designs of thievery or love;<br>With drugs convey'd in drink or meat, <br>All teats of witches counterfeit;<br>Kill pigs and geese with powder'd glass,<br>And make it for enchantment pass;<br>With cow-itch meazle like a leper,<br>And choak with fumes of guiney pepper; <br>Make leachers and their punks with dewtry,<br>Commit fantastical advowtry;<br>Bewitch Hermetick-men to run<br>Stark staring mad with manicon;<br>Believe mechanick Virtuosi <br>Can raise 'em mountains in POTOSI;<br>And, sillier than the antick fools,<br>Take treasure for a heap of coals:<br>Seek out for plants with signatures,<br>To quack of universal cures: <br>With figures ground on panes of glass<br>Make people on their heads to pass;<br>And mighty heaps of coin increase,<br>Reflected from a single piece,<br>To draw in fools, whose nat'ral itches <br>Incline perpetually to witches;<br>And keep me in continual fears,<br>And danger of my neck and ears;<br>When less delinquents have been scourg'd,<br>And hemp on wooden anvil forg'd,<br>Which others for cravats have worn<br>About their necks, and took a turn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I pity'd the sad punishment<br>The wretched caitiff underwent,<br>And left my drubbing of his bones, <br>Too great an honour for pultrones;<br>For Knights are bound to feel no blows<br>From paultry and unequal foes,<br>Who, when they slash, and cut to pieces,<br>Do all with civilest addresses: <br>Their horses never give a blow,<br>But when they make a leg, and bow.<br>I therefore spar'd his flesh, and prest him<br>About the witch with many a. question.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, For many years he drove <br>A kind of broking-trade in love;<br>Employ'd in all th' intrigues, and trust<br>Of feeble, speculative lust:<br>Procurer to th' extravagancy,<br>And crazy ribaldry of fancy, <br>By those the Devil had forsook,<br>As things below him to provoke.<br>But b'ing a virtuoso, able<br>To smatter, quack, and cant, and dabble,<br>He held his talent most adroit <br>For any mystical exploit;<br>As others of his tribe had done,<br>And rais'd their prices three to one:<br>For one predicting pimp has th' odds<br>Of chauldrons of plain downright bawds. <br>But as an elf (the Devil's valet)<br>Is not so slight a thing to get;<br>For those that do his bus'ness best,<br>In hell are us'd the ruggedest;<br>Before so meriting a person <br>Cou'd get a grant, but in reversion,<br>He serv'd two prenticeships, and longer,<br>I' th' myst'ry of a lady-monger.<br>For (as some write) a witch's ghost,<br>As soon as from the body loos'd, <br>Becomes a puney-imp itself<br>And is another witch's elf.<br>He, after searching far and near,<br>At length found one in LANCASHIRE<br>With whom he bargain'd before-hand,<br>And, after hanging, entertained;<br>Since which h' has play'd a thousand feats,<br>And practis'd all mechanick cheats,<br>Transform'd himself to th' ugly shapes<br>Of wolves and bears, baboons and apes,<br>Which he has vary'd more than witches,<br>Or Pharaoh's wizards cou'd their switches;<br>And all with whom h' has had to do,<br>Turn'd to as monstrous figures too.<br>Witness myself, whom h' has abus'd,<br>And to this beastly shape reduc'd,<br>By feeding me on beans and pease,<br>He crams in nasty crevices,<br>And turns to comfits by his arts,<br>To make me relish for disserts, <br>And one by one, with shame and fear,<br>Lick up the candy'd provender.<br>Beside - But as h' was running on,<br>To tell what other feats h' had done,<br>The Lady stopt his full career, <br>And told him now 'twas time to hear<br>If half those things (said she) be true -<br>They're all, (quoth he,) I swear by you.<br>Why then (said she,) That SIDROPHEL<br>Has damn'd himself to th' pit of Hell;<br>Who, mounted on a broom, the nag<br>And hackney of a Lapland hag, <br>In quest of you came hither post,<br>Within an hour (I'm sure) at most;<br>Who told me all you swear and say, <br>Quite contrary another way;<br>Vow'd that you came to him to know<br>If you should carry me or no;<br>And would have hir'd him, and his imps,<br>To be your match-makers and pimps,<br>T' engage the Devil on. your side,<br>And steal (like PROSERPINE) your bride.<br>But he, disdaining to embrace.<br>So filthy a design and base,<br>You fell to vapouring and huffing <br>And drew upon him like a ruffin;<br>Surpriz'd him meanly, unprepar'd,<br>Before h' had time to mount his guard;<br>And left him dead upon the ground,<br>With many a bruise and desperate wound: <br>Swore you had broke and robb'd his house,<br>And stole his talismanique louse,<br>And all his new-found old inventions;.<br>With flat felonious intentions;<br>Which he could bring out where he had,<br>And what he bought them for, and paid.<br>His flea, his morpion, and punese,<br>H' had gotten for his proper ease,<br>And all perfect minutes made,<br>By th' ablest artist of the trade;<br>Which (he could prove it) since he lost,<br>He has been eaten up almost;<br>And all together might amount<br>To many hundreds on account;<br>For which h' had got sufficient warrant <br>To seize the malefactors errant,<br>Without capacity of bail,<br>But of a cart's or horse's tail;<br>And did not doubt to bring the wretches<br>To serve for pendulums to watches; <br>Which, modern virtuosos say,<br>Incline to hanging every way.<br>Beside, he swore, and swore 'twas true,<br>That, e're he went in quest of you,<br>He set a figure to discover<br>If you were fled to RYE or DOVER;<br>And found it clear, that, to betray<br>Yourselves and me, you fled this way;<br>And that he was upon pursuit,<br>To take you somewhere hereabout.<br>He vow'd he had intelligence<br>Of all that past before and since;<br>And found that, e'er you came to him,.<br>Y' had been engaging life and limb<br>About a case of tender conscience,<br>Where both abounded in your own sense:<br>Till RALPHO, by his light and grace,<br>Had clear'd all scruples in the case;<br>And prov'd that you might swear and own<br>Whatever's by the wicked done,<br>For which, most basely to requite<br>The service of his gifts and light,<br>You strove to oblige him, by main force,<br>To scourge his ribs instead of yours;<br>But that he stood upon his guard,<br>And all your vapouring out-dar'd;<br>For which, between you both, the feat<br>Has never been perform'd as yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While thus the Lady talk'd, the Knight<br>Turn'd th' outside of his eyes to white;<br>(As men of inward light are wont<br>To turn their opticks in upon 't)<br>He wonder'd how she came to know<br>What he had done, and meant to do;<br>Held up his affidavit-hand,<br>As if h' had been to be arraign'd;<br>Cast t'wards the door a look,<br>In dread of SIDROPHEL, and spoke:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Madam, if but one word be true<br>Of all the Wizard has told you,<br>Or but one single circumstance<br>In all th' apocryphal romance,<br>May dreadful earthquakes swallow down<br>This vessel, that is all your own;<br>Or may the heavens fall, and cover <br>These reliques of your constant lover.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You have provided well, quoth she,<br>(I thank you) for yourself and me,<br>And shown your presbyterian wits<br>Jump punctual with the Jesuits; <br>A most compendious way, and civil,<br>At once to cheat the world, the Devil,<br>And Heaven and Hell, yourselves, and those<br>On whom you vainly think t' impose.<br>Why then (quoth he) may Hell surprize - <br>That trick (said she) will not pass twice:<br>I've learn'd how far I'm to believe<br>Your pinning oaths upon your sleeve.<br>But there's a better way of clearing<br>What you would prove than downright swearing: <br>For if you have perform'd the feat,<br>The blows are visible as yet,<br>Enough to serve for satisfaction<br>Of nicest scruples in the action:<br>And if you can produce those knobs,<br>Although they're but the witch's drubs,<br>I'll pass them all upon account,<br>As if your natural self had done't<br>Provided that they pass th' opinion<br>Of able juries of old women<br>Who, us'd to judge all matter of facts<br>For bellies, may do so for backs,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Madam, (quoth he,) your love's a million;<br>To do is less than to be willing,<br>As I am, were it in my power, <br>T' obey, what you command, and more:<br>But for performing what you bid,<br>I thank you as much as if I did.<br>You know I ought to have a care<br>To keep my wounds from taking air:<br>For wounds in those that are all heart,<br>Are dangerous in any part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I find (quoth she) my goods and chattels<br>Are like to prove but mere drawn battels;<br>For still the longer we contend,<br>We are but farther off the end.<br>But granting now we should agree,<br>What is it you expect from me?<br>Your plighted faith (quoth he) and word<br>You past in heaven on record,<br>Where all contracts, to have and t' hold,<br>Are everlastingly enroll'd:<br>And if 'tis counted treason here<br>To raze records, 'tis much more there.<br>Quoth she, There are no bargains driv'n,<br>Or marriages clapp'd up, in Heav'n,<br>And that's the reason, as some guess,<br>There is no heav'n in marriages;<br>Two things that naturally press<br>Too narrowly to be at ease.<br>Their bus'ness there is only love,<br>Which marriage is not like t' improve:<br>Love, that's too generous to abide<br>To be against its nature ty'd;<br>Or where 'tis of itself inclin'd,<br>It breaks loose when it is confin'd;<br>And like the soul, it's harbourer.<br>Debarr'd the freedom of the air,<br>Disdains against its will to stay,<br>But struggles out, and flies away;<br>And therefore never can comply<br>To endure the matrimonial tie,<br>That binds the female and the male,<br>Where th' one is but the other's bail;<br>Like Roman gaolers, when they slept, <br>Chain'd to the prisoners they kept<br>Of which the true and faithfull'st lover<br>Gives best security to suffer.<br>Marriage is but a beast, some say,<br>That carries double in foul way; <br>And therefore 'tis not to b' admir'd,<br>It should so suddenly be tir'd;<br>A bargain at a venture made,<br>Between two partners in a trade;<br>(For what's inferr'd by t' have and t' hold,<br>But something past away, and sold?)<br>That as it makes but one of two,<br>Reduces all things else as low;<br>And, at the best, is but a mart<br>Between the one and th' other part,<br>That on the marriage-day is paid,<br>Or hour of death, the bet is laid;<br>And all the rest of better or worse,<br>Both are but losers out of purse.<br>For when upon their ungot heirs <br>Th' entail themselves, and all that's theirs,<br>What blinder bargain e'er was driv'n,<br>Or wager laid at six and seven?<br>To pass themselves away, and turn<br>Their childrens' tenants e're they're born?<br>Beg one another idiot<br>To guardians, e'er they are begot;<br>Or ever shall, perhaps, by th' one,<br>Who's bound to vouch 'em for his own,<br>Though got b' implicit generation,<br>And gen'ral club of all the nation;<br>For which she's fortify'd no less<br>Than all the island, with four seas;<br>Exacts the tribute of her dower,<br>in ready insolence and power;<br>And makes him pass away to have<br>And hold, to her, himself, her slave,<br>More wretched than an ancient villain,<br>Condemn'd to drudgery and tilling;<br>While all he does upon the by,<br>She is not bound to justify,<br>Nor at her proper cost and charge<br>Maintain the feats he does at large.<br>Such hideous sots were those obedient<br>Old vassals to their ladies regent; <br>To give the cheats the eldest hand<br>In foul play by the laws o' th' land;<br>For which so many a legal cuckold<br>Has been run down in courts and truckeld:<br>A law that most unjustly yokes <br>All Johns of Stiles to Joans of Nokes,<br>Without distinction of degree,<br>Condition, age, or quality:<br>Admits no power of revocation,<br>Nor valuable consideration,<br>Nor writ of error, nor reverse<br>Of Judgment past, for better or worse:<br>Will not allow the priviledges<br>That beggars challenge under hedges,<br>Who, when they're griev'd, can make dead horses <br>Their spiritual judges of divorces;<br>While nothing else but Rem in Re<br>Can set the proudest wretches free;<br>A slavery beyond enduring,<br>But that 'tis of their own procuring. <br>As spiders never seek the fly,<br>But leave him, of himself, t' apply<br>So men are by themselves employ'd,<br>To quit the freedom they enjoy'd,<br>And run their necks into a noose, <br>They'd break 'em after, to break loose;<br>As some whom Death would not depart,<br>Have done the feat themselves by art;<br>Like Indian widows, gone to bed<br>In flaming curtains to the dead;<br>And men as often dangled for't,<br>And yet will never leave the sport.<br>Nor do the ladies want excuse<br>For all the stratagems they use<br>To gain the advantage of the set,<br>And lurch the amorous rook and cheat<br>For as the Pythagorean soul<br>Runs through all beasts, and fish and fowl,<br>And has a smack of ev'ry one,<br>So love does, and has ever done;<br>And therefore, though 'tis ne'er so fond,<br>Takes strangely to the vagabond.<br>'Tis but an ague that's reverst,<br>Whose hot fit takes the patient first,<br>That after burns with cold as much <br>As ir'n in GREENLAND does the touch;<br>Melts in the furnace of desire<br>Like glass, that's but the ice of fire;<br>And when his heat of fancy's over,<br>Becomes as hard and frail a lover. <br>For when he's with love-powder laden,<br>And prim'd and cock'd by Miss or Madam,<br>The smallest sparkle of an eye<br>Gives fire to his artillery;<br>And off the loud oaths go; but while <br>They're in the very act, recoil.<br>Hence 'tis so few dare take their chance<br>Without a sep'rate maintenance;<br>And widows, who have try'd one lover,<br>Trust none again, 'till th' have made over; <br>Or if they do, before they marry,<br>The foxes weigh the geese they carry;<br>And e're they venture o'er a stream,<br>Know how to size themselves and them;<br>Whence wittiest ladies always choose <br>To undertake the heaviest goose<br>For now the world is grown so wary,<br>That few of either sex dare marry,<br>But rather trust on tick t' amours,<br>The cross and pile for better or worse;<br>A mode that is held honourable,<br>As well as French, and fashionable:<br>For when it falls out for the best,<br>Where both are incommoded least,<br>In soul and body two unite, <br>To make up one hermaphrodite,<br>Still amorous, and fond, and billing,<br>Like PHILIP and MARY on a shilling,<br>Th' have more punctilios and capriches<br>Between the petticoat and breeches, <br>More petulant extravagances,<br>Than poets make 'em in romances.<br>Though when their heroes 'spouse the dames,<br>We hear no more charms and flames:<br>For then their late attracts decline, <br>And turn as eager as prick'd wine;<br>And all their catterwauling tricks,<br>In earnest to as jealous piques;<br>Which the ancients wisely signify'd,<br>By th' yellow mantos of the bride: <br>For jealousy is but a kind<br>Of clap and grincam of the mind,<br>The natural effects of love,<br>As other flames and aches prove;<br>But all the mischief is, the doubt <br>On whose account they first broke out.<br>For though Chineses go to bed,<br>And lie in, in their ladies stead,<br>And for the pains they took before,<br>Are nurs'd and pamper'd to do more <br>Our green men do it worse, when th' hap<br>To fail in labour of a clap<br>Both lay the child to one another:<br>But who's the father, who the mother,<br>'Tis hard to say in multitudes, <br>Or who imported the French goods.<br>But health and sickness b'ing all one,<br>Which both engag'd before to own,<br>And are not with their bodies bound<br>To worship, only when they're sound,<br>Both give and take their equal shares<br>Of all they suffer by false wares:<br>A fate no lover can divert<br>With all his caution, wit, and art.<br>For 'tis in vain to think to guess <br>At women by appearances,<br>That paint and patch their imperfections<br>Of intellectual complexions,<br>And daub their tempers o'er with washes<br>As artificial as their faces; <br>Wear under vizard-masks their talents<br>And mother-wits before their gallants,<br>Until they're hamper'd in the noose,<br>Too fast to dream of breaking loose;<br>When all the flaws they strove to hide <br>Are made unready with the bride,<br>That with her wedding-clothes undresses<br>Her complaisance and gentilesses,<br>Tries all her arts to take upon her<br>The government from th' easy owner; <br>Until the wretch is glad to wave<br>His lawful right, and turn her slave;<br>Find all his having, and his holding,<br>Reduc'd t' eternal noise and scolding;<br>The conjugal petard, that tears <br>Down all portcullises of ears,<br>And make the volley of one tongue<br>For all their leathern shields too strong<br>When only arm'd with noise and nails,<br>The female silk-worms ride the males, <br>Transform 'em into rams and goats,<br>Like Sirens, with their charming notes;<br>Sweet as a screech-owl's serenade,<br>Or those enchanting murmurs made<br>By th' husband mandrake and the wife,<br>Both bury'd (like themselves) alive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, These reasons are but strains<br>Of wanton, over-heated brains<br>Which ralliers, in their wit, or drink,<br>Do rather wheedle with than think <br>Man was not man in paradise,<br>Until he was created twice,<br>And had his better half, his bride,<br>Carv'd from the original, his side,<br>T' amend his natural defects, <br>And perfect his recruited sex;<br>Inlarge his breed at once, and lessen<br>The pains and labour of increasing,<br>By changing them for other cares,<br>As by his dry'd-up paps appears. <br>His body, that stupendous frame,<br>Of all the world the anagram<br>Is of two equal parts compact,<br>In shape and symmetry exact,<br>Of which the left and female side <br>Is to the manly right a bride;<br>Both join'd together with such art,<br>That nothing else but death can part.<br>Those heav'nly attracts of yours, your eyes,<br>And face, that all the world surprize, <br>That dazzle all that look upon ye,<br>And scorch all other ladies tawny,<br>Those ravishing and charming graces<br>Are all made up of two half faces,<br>That in a mathematick line, <br>Like those in other heavens, join,<br>Of which if either grew alone,<br>T' would fright as much to look upon:<br>And so would that sweet bud your lip,<br>Without the other's fellowship. <br>Our noblest senses act by pairs;<br>Two eyes to see; to hear, two ears;<br>Th' intelligencers of the mind,<br>To wait upon the soul design'd,<br>But those that serve the body alone, <br>Are single, and confin'd to one.<br>The world is but two parts, that meet<br>And close at th' equinoctial fit;<br>And so are all the works of nature,<br>Stamp'd with her signature on matter,<br>Which all her creatures, to a leaf,<br>Or smallest blade of grass receive;<br>All which sufficiently declare,<br>How entirely marriage is her care,<br>The only method that she uses <br>In all the wonders she produces:<br>And those that take their rules from her,<br>Can never be deceiv'd, nor err.<br>For what secures the civil life,<br>But pawns of children, and a wife?<br>That lie like hostages at stake,<br>To pay for all men undertake;<br>To whom it is as necessary<br>As to be born and breathe, to marry;<br>So universal all mankind, <br>In nothing else, is of one mind.<br>For in what stupid age, or nation,<br>Was marriage ever out of fashion?<br>Unless among the Amazons,<br>Or cloister'd friars, and vestal nuns; <br>Or Stoicks, who to bar the freaks<br>And loose excesses of the sex,<br>Prepost'rously wou'd have all women<br>Turn'd up to all the world in common.<br>Though men would find such mortal feuds,<br>In sharing of their publick goods,<br>'Twould put them to more charge of lives, <br>Than they're supply'd with now by wives;<br>Until they graze, and wear their clothes,<br>As beasts do, of their native growths:<br>For simple wearing of their horns<br>Will not suffice to serve their turns.<br>For what can we pretend t' inherit,<br>Unless the marriage-deed will bear it?<br>Could claim no right, to lands or rents,<br>But for our parents' settlements;<br>Had been but younger sons o' th' earth,<br>Debarr'd it all, but for our birth.<br>What honours or estates of peers,<br>Cou'd be preserv'd but by their heirs <br>And what security maintains<br>Their right and title, but the banes?<br>What crowns could be hereditary,<br>If greatest monarchs did not marry.<br>And with their consorts consummate <br>Their weightiest interests of state?<br>For all the amours of princes are<br>But guarantees of peace or war,<br>Or what but marriage has a charm<br>The rage of empires to disarm, <br>Make blood and desolation cease,<br>And fire and sword unite in peace,<br>When all their fierce contest for forage<br>Conclude in articles of marriage?<br>Nor does the genial bed provide <br>Less for the int'rests of the bride;<br>Who else had not the least pretence<br>T' as much as due benevolence;<br>Could no more title take upon her<br>To virtue, quality, and honour.<br>Than ladies-errant, unconfin'd,<br>And feme-coverts t' all mankind<br>All women would be of one piece,<br>The virtuous matron and the miss;<br>The nymphs of chaste Diana's train,<br>The same with those in LEWKNER's Lane;<br>But for the difference marriage makes<br>'Twixt wives and ladies of the lakes;<br>Besides the joys of place and birth,<br>The sex's paradise on earth; <br>A privilege so sacred held,<br>That none will to their mothers yield;<br>But rather than not go before,<br>Abandon Heaven at the door.<br>And if th' indulgent law allows <br>A greater freedom to the spouse,<br>The reason is, because the wife<br>Runs greater hazards of her life;<br>Is trusted with the form and matter<br>Of all mankind by careful nature; <br>Where man brings nothing but the stuff<br>She frames the wond'rous fabric of;<br>Who therefore, in a streight, may freely<br>Demand the clergy of her belly,<br>And make it save her the same way <br>It seldom misses to betray;<br>Unless both parties wisely enter<br>Into the liturgy indenture,<br>And though some fits of small contest<br>Sometimes fall out among the best,<br>That is no more than ev'ry lover<br>Does from his hackney-lady suffer;<br>That makes no breach of faith and love,<br>But rather (sometimes) serves t' improve.<br>For as in running, ev'ry pace <br>Is but between two legs a race,<br>In which both do their uttermost<br>To get before, and win the post,<br>Yet when they're at their race's ends,<br>They're still as kind and constant friends, <br>And, to relieve their weariness,<br>By turns give one another ease;<br>So all those false alarms of strife<br>Between the husband and the wife,<br>And little quarrels, often prove <br>To be but new recruits of love;<br>When those wh' are always kind or coy,<br>In time must either tire or cloy.<br>Nor are their loudest clamours more,<br>Than as they're relish'd, sweet or sour;<br>Like musick, that proves bad or good;<br>According as 'tis understood.<br>In all amours, a lover burns<br>With frowns as well as smiles by turns;<br>And hearts have been as aft with sullen <br>As charming looks surpriz'd and stolen.<br>Then why should more bewitching clamour<br>Some lovers not as much enamour?<br>For discords make the sweetest airs<br>And curses are a kind of pray'rs;<br>Too slight alloys for all those grand<br>Felicities by marriage gain'd.<br>For nothing else has pow'r to settle<br>Th' interests of love perpetual;<br>An act and deed, that that makes one heart<br>Becomes another's counter-part,<br>And passes fines on faith and love,<br>Inroll'd and register'd above,<br>To seal the slippery knots of vows,<br>Which nothing else but death can loose.<br>And what security's too strong,<br>To guard that gentle heart from wrong,<br>That to its friend is glad to pass<br>Itself away, and all it has;<br>And, like an anchorite, gives over<br>This world for th' heaven of lover?<br>I grant (quoth she) there are some few<br>Who take that course, and find it true<br>But millions whom the same does sentence<br>To heav'n b' another way - repentance. <br>Love's arrows are but shot at rovers;<br>Though all they hit, they turn to lovers;<br>And all the weighty consequents<br>Depend upon more blind events,<br>Than gamesters, when they play a set <br>With greatest cunning at piquet,<br>Put out with caution, but take in<br>They know not what, unsight, unseen,<br>For what do lovers, when they're fast<br>In one another's arms embrac't, <br>But strive to plunder, and convey<br>Each other, like a prize, away?<br>To change the property of selves,<br>As sucking children are by elves?<br>And if they use their persons so,<br>What will they to their fortunes do?<br>Their fortunes! the perpetual aims<br>Of all their extasies and flames.<br>For when the money's on the book,<br>And, All my worldly goods - but spoke,<br>(The formal livery and seisin<br>That puts a lover in possession,)<br>To that alone the bridegroom's wedded;<br>The bride a flam, that's superseded.<br>To that their faith is still made good, <br>And all the oaths to us they vow'd:<br>For when we once resign our pow'rs,<br>W' have nothing left we can call ours:<br>Our money's now become the Miss<br>Of all your lives and services;<br>And we forsaken, and postpon'd;<br>But bawds to what before we own'd;<br>Which, as it made y' at first gallant us,<br>So now hires others to supplant us,<br>Until 'tis all turn'd out of doors, <br>(As we had been) for new amours;<br>For what did ever heiress yet<br>By being born to lordships get?<br>When the more lady sh' is of manours,<br>She's but expos'd to more trepanners,<br>Pays for their projects and designs,<br>And for her own destruction fines;<br>And does but tempt them with her riches,<br>To use her as the Dev'l does witches;<br>Who takes it for a special grace<br>To be their cully for a space,<br>That when the time's expir'd, the drazels<br>For ever may become his vassals:<br>So she, bewitch'd by rooks and spirits,<br>Betrays herself, and all sh' inherits; <br>Is bought and sold, like stolen goods,<br>By pimps, and match-makers, and bawds,<br>Until they force her to convey,<br>And steal the thief himself away.<br>These are the everlasting fruits <br>Of all your passionate love-suits,<br>Th' effects of all your amorous fancies<br>To portions and inheritances;<br>Your love-sick rapture for fruition<br>Of dowry, jointure, and tuition;<br>To which you make address and courtship;<br>Ad with your bodies strive to worship,<br>That th' infants' fortunes may partake<br>Of love too, for the mother's sake.<br>For these you play at purposes,<br>And love your love's with A's and B's:<br>For these at Beste and L'Ombre woo,<br>And play for love and money too;<br>Strive who shall be the ablest man<br>At right gallanting of a fan; <br>And who the most genteelly bred<br>At sucking of a vizard-head;<br>How best t' accost us in all quarters;<br>T' our question - and - command new Garters<br>And solidly discourse upon <br>All sorts of dresses, Pro and Con.<br>For there's no mystery nor trade,<br>But in the art of love is made:<br>And when you have more debts to pay<br>Than Michaelmas and Lady-Day, <br>And no way possible to do't,<br>But love and oaths, and restless suit,<br>To us y' apply to pay the scores<br>Of all your cully'd, past amours;<br>Act o'er your flames and darts again, <br>And charge us with your wounds and pain;<br>Which others influences long since<br>Have charm'd your noses with and shins;<br>For which the surgeon is unpaid,<br>And like to be, without our aid. <br>Lord! what an am'rous thing is want!<br>How debts and mortgages inchant!<br>What graces must that lady have<br>That can from executions save!<br>What charms that can reverse extent,<br>And null decree and exigent!<br>What magical attracts and graces,<br>That can redeem from Scire facias!<br>From bonds and statutes can discharge,<br>And from contempts of courts enlarge! <br>These are the highest excellencies<br>Of all your true or false pretences:<br>And you would damn yourselves, and swear<br>As much t' an hostess dowager,<br>Grown fat and pursy by retail <br>Of pots of beer and bottled ale;<br>And find her fitter for your turn;<br>For fat is wondrous apt to burn;<br>Who at your flames would soon take fire,<br>Relent, and melt to your desire,<br>And like a candle in the socket,<br>Dissolve her graces int' your pocket.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By this time 'twas grown dark and late,<br>When they heard a knocking at the gate,<br>Laid on in haste with such a powder, <br>The blows grew louder still and louder;<br>Which HUDIBRAS, as if th' had been<br>Bestow'd as freely on his skin,<br>Expounding, by his inward light,<br>Or rather more prophetick fright, <br>To be the Wizard, come to search,<br>And take him napping in the lurch<br>Turn'd pale as ashes or a clout;<br>But why or wherefore is a doubt<br>For men will tremble, and turn paler, <br>With too much or too little valour.<br>His heart laid on, as if it try'd<br>To force a passage through his side,<br>Impatient (as he vow'd) to wait 'em,<br>But in a fury to fly at 'em; <br>And therefore beat, and laid about,<br>To find a cranny to creep out.<br>But she, who saw in what a taking<br>The Knight was by his furious quaking,<br>Undaunted cry'd, Courage, Sir Knight; <br>Know, I'm resolv'd to break no rite<br>Of hospitality t' a stranger;<br>But, to secure you out of danger,<br>Will here myself stand sentinel,<br>To guard this pass 'gainst SIDROPHEL. <br>Women, you know, do seldom fail<br>To make the stoutest men turn tail;<br>And bravely scorn to turn their backs<br>Upon the desp'ratest attacks.<br>At this the Knight grew resolute <br>As IRONSIDE and HARDIKNUTE<br>His fortitude began to rally,<br>And out he cry'd aloud to sally.<br>But she besought him to convey<br>His courage rather out o' th' way,<br>And lodge in ambush on the floor,<br>Or fortify'd behind a door;<br>That if the enemy shou'd enter,<br>He might relieve her in th' adventure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mean while they knock'd against the door <br>As fierce as at the gate before,<br>Which made the Renegado Knight<br>Relapse again t' his former fright.<br>He thought it desperate to stay<br>Till th' enemy had forc'd his way,<br>But rather post himself, to serve<br>The lady, for a fresh reserve<br>His duty was not to dispute,<br>But what sh' had order'd execute;<br>Which he resolv'd in haste t' obey, <br>And therefore stoutly march'd away;<br>And all h' encounter'd fell upon,<br>Though in the dark, and all alone;<br>Till fear, that braver feats performs<br>Than ever courage dar'd in arms, <br>Had drawn him up before a pass<br>To stand upon his guard, and face:<br>This he courageously invaded,<br>And having enter'd, barricado'd,<br>Insconc'd himself as formidable <br>As could be underneath a table,<br>Where he lay down in ambush close,<br>T' expect th' arrival of his foes.<br>Few minutes he had lain perdue,<br>To guard his desp'rate avenue, <br>Before he heard a dreadful shout,<br>As loud as putting to the rout,<br>With which impatiently alarm'd,<br>He fancy'd th' enemy had storm'd,<br>And, after ent'ring, SIDROPHEL <br>Was fall'n upon the guards pell-mell<br>He therefore sent out all his senses,<br>To bring him in intelligences,<br>Which vulgars, out of ignorance,<br>Mistake for falling in a trance;<br>But those that trade in geomancy,<br>Affirm to be the strength of fancy;<br>In which the Lapland Magi deal,<br>And things incredible reveal.<br>Mean while the foe beat up his quarters, <br>And storm'd the out-works of his fortress:<br>And as another, of the same<br>Degree and party, in arms and fame,<br>That in the same cause had engag'd,<br>At war with equal conduct wag'd,<br>By vent'ring only but to thrust<br>His head a span beyond his post,<br>B' a gen'ral of the cavaliers<br>Was dragg'd thro' a window by th' ears;<br>So he was serv'd in his redoubt,<br>And by the other end pull'd out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon as they had him at their mercy,<br>They put him to the cudgel fiercely,<br>As if they'd scorn'd to trade or barter,<br>By giving or by taking quarter: <br>They stoutly on his quarters laid,<br>Until his scouts came in t' his aid.<br>For when a man is past his sense,<br>There's no way to reduce him thence,<br>But twinging him by th' ears or nose,<br>Or laying on of heavy blows;<br>And if that will not do the deed,<br>To burning with hot irons proceed.<br>No sooner was he come t' himself,<br>But on his neck a sturdy elf <br>Clapp'd, in a trice, his cloven hoof,<br>And thus attack'd him with reproof;<br>Mortal, thou art betray'd to us<br>B' our friend, thy Evil Genius,<br>Who, for thy horrid perjuries,<br>Thy breach of faith, and turning lies,<br>The Brethren's privilege (against<br>The wicked) on themselves, the Saints,<br>Has here thy wretched carcase sent<br>For just revenge and punishment;<br>Which thou hast now no way to lessen,<br>But by an open, free confession;<br>For if we catch thee failing once,<br>'Twill fall the heavier on thy bones.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What made thee venture to betray, <br>And filch the lady's heart away?<br>To Spirit her to matrimony? -<br>That which contracts all matches - money.<br>It was th' inchantment oft her riches<br>That made m' apply t' your croney witches,<br>That, in return, wou'd pay th' expence,<br>The wear and tear of conscience;<br>Which I cou'd have patch'd up, and turn'd,<br>For the hundredth part of what I earn'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Didst thou not love her then? Speak true.<br>No more (quoth he) than I love you. -<br>How would'st th' have us'd her, and her money? -<br>First turn'd her up to alimony;<br>And laid her dowry out in law,<br>To null her jointure with a flaw,<br>Which I before-hand had agreed<br>T' have put, on purpose in the deed;<br>And bar her widow's making over<br>T' a friend in trust, or private lover.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What made thee pick and chuse her out, <br>T' employ their sorceries about? -<br>That which makes gamesters play with those<br>Who have least wit, and most to lose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But didst thou scourge thy vessel thus,<br>As thou hast damn'd thyself to us? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see you take me for an ass:<br>'Tis true, I thought the trick wou'd pass<br>Upon a woman well enough,<br>As 't has been often found by proof,<br>Whose humours are not to be won, <br>But when they are impos'd upon.<br>For love approves of all they do<br>That stand for candidates, and woo.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why didst thou forge those shameful lies<br>Of bears and witches in disguise? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That is no more than authors give<br>The rabble credit to believe:<br>A trick of following their leaders,<br>To entertain their gentle readers;<br>And we have now no other way <br>Of passing all we do or say<br>Which, when 'tis natural and true,<br>Will be believ'd b' a very few,<br>Beside the danger of offence,<br>The fatal enemy of sense. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why did thou chuse that cursed sin,<br>Hypocrisy, to set up in?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because it is in the thriving'st calling,<br>The only Saints-bell that rings all in;<br>In which all churches are concern'd, <br>And is the easiest to be learn'd:<br>For no degrees, unless th' employ't,<br>Can ever gain much, or enjoy't:<br>A gift that is not only able<br>To domineer among the rabble, <br>But by the laws impower'd to rout,<br>And awe the greatest that stand out;<br>Which few hold forth against, for fear<br>Their hands should slip, and come too near;<br>For no sin else among the Saints<br>Is taught so tenderly against.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What made thee break thy plighted vows? -<br>That which makes others break a house,<br>And hang, and scorn ye all, before<br>Endure the plague of being poor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, I see you have more tricks<br>Than all your doating politicks,<br>That are grown old, and out of fashion,<br>Compar'd with your New Reformation;<br>That we must come to school to you,<br>To learn your more refin'd, and new.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, If you will give me leave<br>To tell you what I now perceive,<br>You'll find yourself an arrant chouse,<br>If y' were but at a Meeting-House. - <br>'Tis true, quoth he, we ne'er come there,<br>Because, w' have let 'em out by th' year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Truly, quoth he, you can't imagine<br>What wond'rous things they will engage in<br>That as your fellow-fiends in Hell <br>Were angels all before they fell,<br>So are you like to be agen,<br>Compar'd with th' angels of us men.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, I am resolv'd to be<br>Thy scholar in this mystery;<br>And therefore first desire to know<br>Some principles on which you go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes a knave a child of God,<br>And one of us? - A livelihood.<br>What renders beating out of brains, <br>And murder, godliness? - Great gains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's tender conscience? - 'Tis a botch,<br>That will not bear the gentlest touch;<br>But breaking out, dispatches more<br>Than th' epidemical'st plague-sore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes y' encroach upon our trade,<br>And damn all others? - To be paid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's orthodox, and true, believing<br>Against a conscience? - A good living.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes rebelling against Kings <br>A Good Old Cause? - Administrings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes all doctrines plain and clear? -<br>About two hundred pounds a year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And that which was prov'd true before,<br>Prove false again? - Two hundred more. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes the breaking of all oaths<br>A holy duty? - Food and cloaths.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What laws and freedom, persecution? -<br>B'ing out of pow'r, and contribution.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes a church a den of thieves? - <br>A dean and chapter, and white sleeves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ad what would serve, if those were gone,<br>To make it orthodox? - Our own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What makes morality a crime,<br>The most notorious of the time; <br>Morality, which both the Saints,<br>And wicked too, cry out against? - <br>Cause grace and virtue are within<br>Prohibited degrees of kin<br>And therefore no true Saint allows,<br>They shall be suffer'd to espouse;<br>For Saints can need no conscience,<br>That with morality dispense;<br>As virtue's impious, when 'tis rooted<br>In nature only, and not imputed <br>But why the wicked should do so,<br>We neither know, or care to do.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's liberty of conscience,<br>I' th' natural and genuine sense?<br>'Tis to restore, with more security, <br>Rebellion to its ancient purity;<br>And christian liberty reduce<br>To th' elder practice of the Jews.<br>For a large conscience is all one,<br>And signifies the same with none. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is enough (quoth he) for once,<br>And has repriev'd thy forfeit bones:<br>NICK MACHIAVEL had ne'er a trick,<br>(Though he gave his name to our Old Nick,)<br>But was below the least of these,<br>That pass i' th' world for holiness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This said, the furies and the light<br>In th' instant vanish'd out of sight,<br>And left him in the dark alone,<br>With stinks of brimstone and his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Queen of Night, whose large command<br>Rules all the sea, and half the land,<br>And over moist and crazy brains,<br>In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns,<br>Was now declining to the west, <br>To go to bed, and take her rest;<br>When HUDIBRAS, whose stubborn blows<br>Deny'd his bones that soft repose,<br>Lay still expecting worse and more,<br>Stretch'd out at length upon the floor; <br>And though he shut his eyes as fast<br>As if h' had been to sleep his last,<br>Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards<br>Do make the Devil wear for vizards,<br>And pricking up his ears, to hark <br>If he cou'd hear too in the dark,<br>Was first invaded with a groan<br>And after in a feeble tone,<br>These trembling words: Unhappy wretch!<br>What hast thou gotten by this fetch; <br>For all thy tricks, in this new trade,<br>Thy holy brotherhood o' th' blade?<br>By sauntring still on some adventure,<br>And growing to thy horse a a Centaure?<br>To stuff thy skin with swelling knobs <br>Of cruel and hard-wooded drubs?<br>For still th' hast had the worst on't yet,<br>As well in conquest as defeat.<br>Night is the sabbath of mankind,<br>To rest the body and the mind, <br>Which now thou art deny'd to keep,<br>And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep.<br>The Knight, who heard the words, explain'd,<br>As meant to him, this reprimand,<br>Because the character did hit <br>Point-blank upon his case so fit;<br>Believ'd it was some drolling spright,<br>That staid upon the guard that night,<br>And one of those h' had seen, and felt<br>The drubs he had so freely dealt; <br>When, after a short pause and groan,<br>The doleful Spirit thus went on:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This 'tis t' engage with dogs and bears<br>Pell-mell together by the ears,<br>And, after painful bangs and knocks, <br>To lie in limbo in the stocks,<br>And from the pinnacle of glory<br>Fall headlong into purgatory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Thought he, this devil's full of malice,<br>That in my late disasters rallies):<br>Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it,<br>By being more heroic-minded:<br>And at a riding handled worse,<br>With treats more slovenly and coarse:<br>Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars,<br>And hot disputes with conjurers;<br>And when th' hadst bravely won the day,<br>Wast fain to steal thyself away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(I see, thought he, this shameless elf<br>Wou'd fain steal me too from myself, <br>That impudently dares to own<br>What I have suffer'd for and done,)<br>And now but vent'ring to betray,<br>Hast met with vengeance the same way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thought he, how does the Devil know<br>What 'twas that I design'd to do?<br>His office of intelligence,<br>His oracles, are ceas'd long since;<br>And he knows nothing of the Saints,<br>But what some treacherous spy acquaints. <br>This is some pettifogging fiend,<br>Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,<br>That undertakes to understand,<br>And juggles at the second-hand;<br>And now would pass for Spirit Po, <br>And all mens' dark concerns foreknow.<br>I think I need not fear him for't;<br>These rallying devils do no hurt.<br>With that he rouz'd his drooping heart,<br>And hastily cry'd out, What art? <br>A wretch (quoth he) whom want of grace<br>Has brought to this unhappy place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I do believe thee, quoth the Knight;<br>Thus far I'm sure th' art in the right;<br>And know what 'tis that troubles thee, <br>Better than thou hast guess'd of me.<br>Thou art some paultry, black-guard spright,<br>Condemn'd to drudg'ry in the night<br>Thou hast no work to do in th' house<br>Nor half-penny to drop in shoes; <br>Without the raising of which sum,<br>You dare not be so troublesome,<br>To pinch the slatterns black and blue,<br>For leaving you their work to do.<br>This is your bus'ness good Pug-Robin; <br>And your diversion dull dry-bobbing,<br>T' entice fanaticks in the dirt,<br>And wash them clean in ditches for't;<br>Of which conceit you are so proud,<br>At ev'ry jest you laugh aloud,<br>As now you wou'd have done by me,<br>But that I barr'd your raillery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sir (quoth the voice) y'are no such Sophi<br>As you would have the world judge of ye.<br>If you design to weigh our talents <br>I' the standard of your own false balance,<br>Or think it possible to know<br>Us ghosts as well as we do you;<br>We, who have been the everlasting<br>Companions of your drubs and basting, <br>And never left you in contest,<br>With male or female, man or beast,<br>But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire,<br>In all adventures, as your Squire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quoth he, That may be said as true <br>By the idlest pug of all your crew:<br>For none cou'd have betray'd us worse<br>Than those allies of ours and yours.<br>But I have sent him for a token<br>To your Low-Country HOGEN-MOGEN, <br>To whose infernal shores I hope<br>He'll swing like skippers in a rope.<br>And, if y' have been more just to me<br>(As I am apt to think) than he,<br>I am afraid it is as true, <br>What th' ill-affected say of you:<br>Y' have spous'd the Covenant and Cause,<br>By holding up your cloven paws.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sir, quoth the voice, 'tis true, I grant,<br>We made and took the Covenant; <br>But that no more concerns the Cause<br>Than other perj'ries do the laws,<br>Which when they're prov'd in open court,<br>Wear wooden peccadillo's for't:<br>And that's the reason Cov'nanters <br>Hold up their hands like rogues at bars.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see, quoth HUDIBRAS, from whence<br>These scandals of the Saints commence,<br>That are but natural effects<br>Of Satan's malice, and his sects,<br>Those Spider-Saints, that hang by threads,<br>Spun out o' th' intrails of their heads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sir, quoth the voice, that may as true<br>And properly be said of you,<br>Whose talents may compare with either, <br>Or both the other put together.<br>For all the Independents do,<br>Is only what you forc'd 'em to;<br>You, who are not content alone<br>With tricks to put the Devil down,<br>But must have armies rais'd to back<br>The gospel-work you undertake;<br>As if artillery, and edge-tools,<br>Were the only engines to save souls;<br>While he, poor devil, has no pow'r <br>By force to run down and devour;<br>Has ne'er a Classis; cannot sentence<br>To stools or poundage of repentance;<br>Is ty'd up only to design,<br>T' entice, and tempt, and undermine,<br>In which you all his arts out-do,<br>And prove yourselves his betters too.<br>Hence 'tis possessions do less evil<br>Than mere temptations of the Devil,<br>Which, all the horrid'st actions done,<br>Are charg'd in courts of law upon;<br>Because unless they help the elf,<br>He can do little of himself;<br>And therefore where he's best possess'd<br>Acts most against his interest; <br>Surprizes none, but those wh' have priests<br>To turn him out, and exorcists,<br>Supply'd with spiritual provision,<br>And magazines of ammunition<br>With crosses, relicks, crucifixes, <br>Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes;<br>The tools of working our salvation<br>By mere mechanick operation;<br>With holy water, like a sluice,<br>To overflow all avenues. <br>But those wh' are utterly unarm'd<br>T' oppose his entrance, if he storm'd,<br>He never offers to surprize,<br>Although his falsest enemies;<br>But is content to be their drudge, <br>And on their errands glad to trudge<br>For where are all your forfeitures<br>Entrusted in safe hands but ours?<br>Who are but jailors of the holes,<br>And dungeons where you clap up souls;<br>Like under-keepers, turn the keys,<br>T' your mittimus anathemas;<br>And never boggle to restore<br>The members you deliver o're<br>Upon demand, with fairer justice <br>Than all your covenanting Trustees;<br>Unless to punish them the worse,<br>You put them in the secular pow'rs,<br>And pass their souls, as some demise<br>The same estate in mortgage twice;<br>When to a legal Utlegation<br>You turn your excommunication,<br>And for a groat unpaid, that's due,<br>Distrain on soul and body too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thought he, 'tis no mean part of civil <br>State prudence to cajole the Devil<br>And not to handle him too rough,<br>When h' has us in his cloven hoof.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">T' is true, quoth he, that intercourse<br>Has pass'd between your friends and ours; <br>That as you trust us, in our way,<br>To raise your members, and to lay,<br>We send you others of our own,<br>Denounc'd to hang themselves or drown;<br>Or, frighted with our oratory, <br>To leap down headlong many a story<br>Have us'd all means to propagate<br>Your mighty interests of state;<br>Laid out our spiritual gifts to further<br>Your great designs of rage and murther. <br>For if the Saints are nam'd from blood,<br>We only have made that title good;<br>And if it were but in our power,<br>We should not scruple to do more,<br>And not be half a soul behind<br>Of all dissenters of mankind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Right, quoth the voice, and as I scorn<br>To be ungrateful, in return <br>Of all those kind good offices,<br>I'll free you out of this distress,<br>And set you down in safety, where<br>It is no time to tell you here.<br>The cock crows, and the morn grows on,<br>When 'tis decreed I must be gone;<br>And if I leave you here till day, <br>You'll find it hard to get away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With that the Spirit grop'd about,<br>To find th' inchanted hero out,<br>And try'd with haste to lift him up;<br>But found his forlorn hope, his crup,<br>Unserviceable with kicks and blows,<br>Receiv'd from harden'd-hearted foes.<br>He thought to drag him by the heels,<br>Like Gresham carts, with legs for wheels;<br>But fear, that soonest cures those sores<br>In danger of relapse to worse,<br>Came in t' assist him with it's aid<br>And up his sinking vessel weigh'd.<br>No sooner was he fit to trudge,<br>But both made ready to dislodge. <br>The Spirit hors'd him like a sack<br>Upon the vehicle his back;<br>And bore him headlong into th' hall,<br>With some few rubs against the wall<br>Where finding out the postern lock'd,<br>And th' avenues as strongly block'd,<br>H' attack'd the window, storm'd the glass,<br>And in a moment gain'd the pass;<br>Thro' which he dragg'd the worsted souldier's<br>Fore-quarters out by the head and shoulders; <br>And cautiously began to scout,<br>To find their fellow-cattle out.<br>Nor was it half a minute's quest,<br>E're he retriev'd the champion's beast,<br>Ty'd to a pale, instead of rack;<br>But ne'er a saddle on his back,<br>Nor pistols at the saddle-bow,<br>Convey'd away the Lord knows how,<br>He thought it was no time to stay,<br>And let the night too steal away; <br>But in a trice advanc'd the Knight<br>Upon the bare ridge, bolt upright:<br>And groping out for RALPHO's jade,<br>He found the saddle too was stray'd,<br>And in the place a lump of soap.<br>On which he speedily leap'd up;<br>And turning to the gate the rein,<br>He kick'd and cudgell'd on amain.<br>While HUDIBRAS, with equal haste,<br>On both sides laid about as fast, <br>And spurr'd as jockies use to break,<br>Or padders to secure, a neck<br>Where let us leave 'em for a time,<br>And to their Churches turn our rhyme;<br>To hold forth their declining state,<br>Which now come near an even rate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Samuel+Butler">Samuel Butler</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=512564" data-title="Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I de Samuel Butler" data-description="THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the ..."></div>
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