Hudibras Redivivus or, a Burlesque poem on the times. The Second Edition. To which is added, An Apology, and some other Improvements throughout the Whole [by Edward Ward] |
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 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
As I was thus amus'd to see
This Mixture of Humanity,
Who should step by, but Doctor Trotter,
That Astrological Promoter,
Reeling from E---ms's Diapente,
Advanc'd at least to nine and twenty,
With a long Cole-black Fury's Wig on,
And flaming Nose, like fiery Trigon:
He sometimes run a-head straight forward,
Then tack'd from Southward to the Norward;
And sometimes like a wand'ring Star,
Mov'd Retrograde, then Circular:
Finding himself in Dangers tost,
At last, for fear he should be lost,
He anchor'd safely at a Post:
With that, said I, old Friend, how chear ye,
I'm glad to see you here so merry:
Come, let's go drink some Turky Puddle;
'Tis Cordial for a swimming Noddle:
Thou'lt grow, with one half Pint of Coffee,
As sober as a Persian Sophy.
With that, I took him by the Arm,
And led the Wizard out of Harm,
Who, for my Kindness, was as Civil
As Doctor Faustus to the Devil.
So Cheek by Jole away we went,
Like old Nick, and the Earl of Kent,
'Till to a Coffee-House we came,
To quench the Doctor's liquid Flame,
Where at a Table down we sat,
And gravely talk'd of this and that;
Drank Coffee, 'till the Doctor found
The World that turn'd so lately round,
Had of a suddain stopp'd its Motion,
In spight to the Copernian Notion;
When the reviving Fumes that rose
From scolding Ninny-broth to's Nose,
Had soberiz'd his Brains a little,
And made him fit for Tattle Tittle.
(Pray let not this my Transposition
Incur your Censure or Derision:
Poets are apt to change a Letter,
Or Word, to make their Rime the better:
For when we Pegasus bestride,
And after Wit a Hunting ride,
Our noisy Lines would all run single,
Were they not coupl'd by their Jingle.)
I say, when Coffee piping hot,
Had rais'd the Man, and cur'd the Sot,
And by its Crust-burnt Excellencies,
Restor'd the Conj'rer to his Senses;
Doctor, said I, then bowing low,
You, I, and all the Kingdom, know
Your're famous in your Generation,
And learn'd in ev'ry Constellation;
I therefore beg you'll answer me
One Question in Astrology,
Because I'm sure, were Albumazer,
Or Ptolomy, the Plannet-gazer,
Tom Saffold, Lilly, or old Coley,
Now living, none could tell more truly;
Therefore I beg, that you'll impart
One Spec'men of your noble Art.
This Mixture of Humanity,
Who should step by, but Doctor Trotter,
That Astrological Promoter,
Reeling from E---ms's Diapente,
Advanc'd at least to nine and twenty,
With a long Cole-black Fury's Wig on,
And flaming Nose, like fiery Trigon:
He sometimes run a-head straight forward,
Then tack'd from Southward to the Norward;
And sometimes like a wand'ring Star,
Mov'd Retrograde, then Circular:
Finding himself in Dangers tost,
At last, for fear he should be lost,
He anchor'd safely at a Post:
With that, said I, old Friend, how chear ye,
I'm glad to see you here so merry:
13
'Tis Cordial for a swimming Noddle:
Thou'lt grow, with one half Pint of Coffee,
As sober as a Persian Sophy.
With that, I took him by the Arm,
And led the Wizard out of Harm,
Who, for my Kindness, was as Civil
As Doctor Faustus to the Devil.
So Cheek by Jole away we went,
Like old Nick, and the Earl of Kent,
'Till to a Coffee-House we came,
To quench the Doctor's liquid Flame,
Where at a Table down we sat,
And gravely talk'd of this and that;
Drank Coffee, 'till the Doctor found
The World that turn'd so lately round,
Had of a suddain stopp'd its Motion,
In spight to the Copernian Notion;
When the reviving Fumes that rose
From scolding Ninny-broth to's Nose,
14
And made him fit for Tattle Tittle.
(Pray let not this my Transposition
Incur your Censure or Derision:
Poets are apt to change a Letter,
Or Word, to make their Rime the better:
For when we Pegasus bestride,
And after Wit a Hunting ride,
Our noisy Lines would all run single,
Were they not coupl'd by their Jingle.)
I say, when Coffee piping hot,
Had rais'd the Man, and cur'd the Sot,
And by its Crust-burnt Excellencies,
Restor'd the Conj'rer to his Senses;
Doctor, said I, then bowing low,
You, I, and all the Kingdom, know
Your're famous in your Generation,
And learn'd in ev'ry Constellation;
I therefore beg you'll answer me
One Question in Astrology,
15
Or Ptolomy, the Plannet-gazer,
Tom Saffold, Lilly, or old Coley,
Now living, none could tell more truly;
Therefore I beg, that you'll impart
One Spec'men of your noble Art.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |