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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| XII. | CANTO XII. |
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 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
3
CANTO XII.
When silent Sleep, that hates the Light,
Had lock'd my Senses up all Night;
'Till Somnus snatch'd in a Surprize,
His leaden Plummets from my Eyes;
And th'Eastern Blushes of the Morning,
Gave waking Mortals early warning,
That Sol from Thetis was returning;
For Gods, the Poets do maintain,
Have Mistresses, as well as Men;
And are like us, in bawdy Cases,
Tir'd as soon with their Embraces;
For am'rous Joys, we always find,
Leave a repenting Sting behind,
That makes that odious in Reflection,
Which proves so pleasant in the Action:
'Tis for this Cause the Sun looks red,
When rising from his Thetis Bed,
Blushing to think her Female Charms
So long detain'd him in her Arms;
'Till he was glad to fly so fast
From what he sought with equal haste
So th'Lover, tho' he's young and kind,
Must own he does more Pleasure find
In his next Morning's hasty Flight,
Than in fair Celia's Arms all Night.
Had lock'd my Senses up all Night;
'Till Somnus snatch'd in a Surprize,
His leaden Plummets from my Eyes;
And th'Eastern Blushes of the Morning,
Gave waking Mortals early warning,
That Sol from Thetis was returning;
For Gods, the Poets do maintain,
Have Mistresses, as well as Men;
4
Tir'd as soon with their Embraces;
For am'rous Joys, we always find,
Leave a repenting Sting behind,
That makes that odious in Reflection,
Which proves so pleasant in the Action:
'Tis for this Cause the Sun looks red,
When rising from his Thetis Bed,
Blushing to think her Female Charms
So long detain'd him in her Arms;
'Till he was glad to fly so fast
From what he sought with equal haste
So th'Lover, tho' he's young and kind,
Must own he does more Pleasure find
In his next Morning's hasty Flight,
Than in fair Celia's Arms all Night.
Just at the very peep of Day,
As thus in Bed I musing lay,
With thoughtful Brain, and active Mind,
To strange Poetick Dreams inclin'd,
My Fancy rang'd from Pole to Pole,
To feed with new Delights my Soul;
Sometimes on Honesty I mus'd,
Talk'd on so much, tho' little us'd.
Methoughts I heard each Villain claim
An Int'rest in the Sacred Name,
And ev'ry Jilt and Villain say,
That they were Honest in their Way.
The arrant Knave that never knew her,
Would still pretend some Title to her;
And in his Looks, dissembling Grace,
Would wear her Liv'ry in his Face.
So a lewd Punk, so well we see,
Will counterfeit true Modesty,
And look so Pious and Demure,
That few would think the Saint a Whore.
As thus in Bed I musing lay,
With thoughtful Brain, and active Mind,
To strange Poetick Dreams inclin'd,
5
To feed with new Delights my Soul;
Sometimes on Honesty I mus'd,
Talk'd on so much, tho' little us'd.
Methoughts I heard each Villain claim
An Int'rest in the Sacred Name,
And ev'ry Jilt and Villain say,
That they were Honest in their Way.
The arrant Knave that never knew her,
Would still pretend some Title to her;
And in his Looks, dissembling Grace,
Would wear her Liv'ry in his Face.
So a lewd Punk, so well we see,
Will counterfeit true Modesty,
And look so Pious and Demure,
That few would think the Saint a Whore.
Each Party labour'd to deceive
The rest, and make the World believe,
That they, and only they, ingrost
The Jem, and could the Secret boast;
In Rage, denying to the rest
The Honesty themselves possest;
Yet none would own they were without it,
But cavil'd furiously about it;
So have I known hard Words and Battles
Among a Crew of Tittle Tattles;
About their Virtue, when the Jades
Were Thieves and Strumpets by their Trades,
And had no more Pretence to cavil
About it, than the very Devil;
But Rogues and Whores will disagree,
And squabbl' about their Honesty;
Altho' they have no more to show,
Than Guinea has of Frost and Snow.
The rest, and make the World believe,
That they, and only they, ingrost
The Jem, and could the Secret boast;
6
The Honesty themselves possest;
Yet none would own they were without it,
But cavil'd furiously about it;
So have I known hard Words and Battles
Among a Crew of Tittle Tattles;
About their Virtue, when the Jades
Were Thieves and Strumpets by their Trades,
And had no more Pretence to cavil
About it, than the very Devil;
But Rogues and Whores will disagree,
And squabbl' about their Honesty;
Altho' they have no more to show,
Than Guinea has of Frost and Snow.
Then did my rambling Thoughts proceed
To Friendship, that deceitful Reed,
And range from Place to Place about,
To find the precious Jewel out:
In Courts, Ambition, Envy, Pride,
The cordial Sement quite distroy'd;
There it but in external Shew
Appear'd, as other Virtues do;
Was mimmick'd as if highly priz'd,
But never truly exercis'd:
So will each Bully look and prate,
As if he had a good Estate;
But when into the Knave we pry,
We find he 'as none to occupy.
To Friendship, that deceitful Reed,
And range from Place to Place about,
To find the precious Jewel out:
In Courts, Ambition, Envy, Pride,
The cordial Sement quite distroy'd;
7
Appear'd, as other Virtues do;
Was mimmick'd as if highly priz'd,
But never truly exercis'd:
So will each Bully look and prate,
As if he had a good Estate;
But when into the Knave we pry,
We find he 'as none to occupy.
In Cities, Avarice and Gain
Dissolve the mutual happy Chain,
And mercenary Ends, divide
The Gordian Knot, as soon as ty'd:
Besides, true Friendship cannot dwell
Where Int'rest does alone prevail,
And Money does their Minds delude
From Justice, and from Gratitude:
Money, that Guide that makes 'em stray
From Truth, to go the gainful'st Way:
Money, that causes 'em to break
The strongest Oaths that they can make,
That wicked Root of every Evil,
Which leads 'em headlong to the Devil;
Yet each Man strives to make the rest
Believe he 'as Friendship in his Breast,
And talks as earnestly about it,
As if he had it, tho' without it.
So have I heard a Crowd of those
Vain foppish Animals, call'd Beaus,
Prattle of Wit, 'till very hot,
Altho' they never had a Jot.
Thus many Fools, their Parts to show,
Will talk of Robin, and his Bow,
That never, by Enquiry, knew
Whether 't was made of Steel or Yew.
Dissolve the mutual happy Chain,
And mercenary Ends, divide
The Gordian Knot, as soon as ty'd:
Besides, true Friendship cannot dwell
Where Int'rest does alone prevail,
And Money does their Minds delude
From Justice, and from Gratitude:
Money, that Guide that makes 'em stray
From Truth, to go the gainful'st Way:
Money, that causes 'em to break
The strongest Oaths that they can make,
8
Which leads 'em headlong to the Devil;
Yet each Man strives to make the rest
Believe he 'as Friendship in his Breast,
And talks as earnestly about it,
As if he had it, tho' without it.
So have I heard a Crowd of those
Vain foppish Animals, call'd Beaus,
Prattle of Wit, 'till very hot,
Altho' they never had a Jot.
Thus many Fools, their Parts to show,
Will talk of Robin, and his Bow,
That never, by Enquiry, knew
Whether 't was made of Steel or Yew.
I'th' Country too, 'tis quite mistaken,
And valu'd less, than Flitch of Bacon;
For there they know no Obligation
Beyond a Neighbour or Relation;
Nor can those Trifles bind them longer,
Than whilst Self-Int'rest, which is stronger,
Preserves the Tie that is between
Themselves and Neighbours, or their Kin:
For Friendship is of a Dimension,
Too large for rural Apprehension;
Their narrow Souls can't comprehend
The sacred Bonds 'twixt Friend and Friend;
Nor are their Faith and Wisdom big
Enough for such a solemn League;
For Friendship, if that Name it bears,
It must be free from Doubts and Fears,
And is so credulous a Tie,
Dissolv'd at once by Jealousy:
For if we e'er our Friend mistrust,
It shews we do not think him Just;
And if we harbour such a Thought,
Our Friendship is not worth a Groat;
For who would hazard all, to save
A Man from Harm, he thinks a Knave;
Yet he that Friendship does pretend,
And will not do't, to save his Friend,
Is, as the Learned do surmise,
A Snake that in the Bosom lies:
Therefore my Muse could no where light on
That Friendship Men of Honour prate on;
Because, as they define the Matter,
It is too strict for Human Nature;
For Avarice, Revenge, and Pride,
Hypocrisy, and Lust beside,
Have so corrupted Flesh and Blood,
That we abandon all that's Good;
Exclude all Virtue from within,
And wear it but in outward Mein:
For 'tis acquir'd by every Fool,
Not now, by Philosophick Rule,
Nor at the Church, but Dancing-School.
Thus Virtue is become, alass!
No more than an external Grace;
And those that from Geneva Books,
Have learn'd to shew it in their looks;
Altho' they should deserve a Gallows,
Would still be counted honest Fellows.
How then should Friendship raise its Head,
When Virtue, it's Preserver's Dead?
And valu'd less, than Flitch of Bacon;
For there they know no Obligation
Beyond a Neighbour or Relation;
Nor can those Trifles bind them longer,
Than whilst Self-Int'rest, which is stronger,
9
Themselves and Neighbours, or their Kin:
For Friendship is of a Dimension,
Too large for rural Apprehension;
Their narrow Souls can't comprehend
The sacred Bonds 'twixt Friend and Friend;
Nor are their Faith and Wisdom big
Enough for such a solemn League;
For Friendship, if that Name it bears,
It must be free from Doubts and Fears,
And is so credulous a Tie,
Dissolv'd at once by Jealousy:
For if we e'er our Friend mistrust,
It shews we do not think him Just;
And if we harbour such a Thought,
Our Friendship is not worth a Groat;
For who would hazard all, to save
A Man from Harm, he thinks a Knave;
Yet he that Friendship does pretend,
And will not do't, to save his Friend,
10
A Snake that in the Bosom lies:
Therefore my Muse could no where light on
That Friendship Men of Honour prate on;
Because, as they define the Matter,
It is too strict for Human Nature;
For Avarice, Revenge, and Pride,
Hypocrisy, and Lust beside,
Have so corrupted Flesh and Blood,
That we abandon all that's Good;
Exclude all Virtue from within,
And wear it but in outward Mein:
For 'tis acquir'd by every Fool,
Not now, by Philosophick Rule,
Nor at the Church, but Dancing-School.
Thus Virtue is become, alass!
No more than an external Grace;
And those that from Geneva Books,
Have learn'd to shew it in their looks;
11
Would still be counted honest Fellows.
How then should Friendship raise its Head,
When Virtue, it's Preserver's Dead?
If Holy Sister chance to stray,
For God Almighty's Lambs will play,
She still will have the canting Face
To boast her Right to saving Grace;
Altho' she does in Conscience know
The Devil governs all below,
And finds a Way thro' sinful Hole,
To please her Lust, and damn her Soul:
Thus Women will contend, we find,
Altho' their Virtue be resign'd,
T'enjoy the Honour till they're dead
Of a chast Wife, or modest Maid.
Pray, why not still possess the Name,
Tho' Virtue's gone, that gave the same,
Since Men of War their Titles boast,
Altho' they've their Commissions lost?
Captains and Cuckolds, all Men know,
Once dignify'd, will still be so;
Therefore why should not ev'ry Dame,
That once enjoy'd an honest Name,
Have still the Benefit o'th' same,
Since ev'ry Woman may aver it,
She once had Virtue's Pattent for it?
And tho' she Captain-like, has lost
Commission, yet she ought to boast
The Honour of her former Post.
For God Almighty's Lambs will play,
She still will have the canting Face
To boast her Right to saving Grace;
Altho' she does in Conscience know
The Devil governs all below,
And finds a Way thro' sinful Hole,
To please her Lust, and damn her Soul:
Thus Women will contend, we find,
Altho' their Virtue be resign'd,
T'enjoy the Honour till they're dead
Of a chast Wife, or modest Maid.
Pray, why not still possess the Name,
Tho' Virtue's gone, that gave the same,
Since Men of War their Titles boast,
Altho' they've their Commissions lost?
12
Once dignify'd, will still be so;
Therefore why should not ev'ry Dame,
That once enjoy'd an honest Name,
Have still the Benefit o'th' same,
Since ev'ry Woman may aver it,
She once had Virtue's Pattent for it?
And tho' she Captain-like, has lost
Commission, yet she ought to boast
The Honour of her former Post.
Next these, true Loyalty I thought on,
But that I found corrupt and rotten;
So faint, and in that sick Condition,
Giv'n over by her old Physician;
And when she languish'd thus dejected,
By all upbraided and neglected;
Begging for Christian Consolation,
Yet scarce a Levite in the Nation,
Of any Church, amongst so many,
Would by their Pray'rs afford her any.
So wealthy Men, who in their Prime
Have nobly flourish'd for a time,
When once they are by Fate depress'd,
And of their Riches dispossess'd;
Those very Friends the first abhor 'em,
That should in Reason do most for 'em.
But that I found corrupt and rotten;
So faint, and in that sick Condition,
Giv'n over by her old Physician;
And when she languish'd thus dejected,
By all upbraided and neglected;
Begging for Christian Consolation,
Yet scarce a Levite in the Nation,
Of any Church, amongst so many,
Would by their Pray'rs afford her any.
13
Have nobly flourish'd for a time,
When once they are by Fate depress'd,
And of their Riches dispossess'd;
Those very Friends the first abhor 'em,
That should in Reason do most for 'em.
Religion, did my Fancy next
Chuse for her Theme, that is, her Text;
And thus inspir'd by way of Sonnet,
She rim'd, that is, she preach'd upon it:
Methoughts I saw her quite forlorn,
Her sacred Body rent and torn;
And as her Limbs thus mangled lay,
In a Tempestuous Factious Fray,
Dissected by a fatal Knife,
Sharp whetted in Schismatick Strife;
The Church in Tears most sadly mourn'd,
And her true Sons were much concern'd;
But all the rest seem'd pleas'd to see
Religion's sad Catastrophe.
Chuse for her Theme, that is, her Text;
And thus inspir'd by way of Sonnet,
She rim'd, that is, she preach'd upon it:
Methoughts I saw her quite forlorn,
Her sacred Body rent and torn;
And as her Limbs thus mangled lay,
In a Tempestuous Factious Fray,
Dissected by a fatal Knife,
Sharp whetted in Schismatick Strife;
The Church in Tears most sadly mourn'd,
And her true Sons were much concern'd;
But all the rest seem'd pleas'd to see
Religion's sad Catastrophe.
14
As thus she lay, all pale and wan,
Expos'd to those that work'd her Bane,
Each jarring Party strove to take
A Limb, for Memorandum's sake:
The Church industrious for a Part,
Most wisely chose the Head and Heart,
And soon by Faith and Grace reviv'd
That Life, of which they were depriv'd.
Expos'd to those that work'd her Bane,
Each jarring Party strove to take
A Limb, for Memorandum's sake:
The Church industrious for a Part,
Most wisely chose the Head and Heart,
And soon by Faith and Grace reviv'd
That Life, of which they were depriv'd.
The Presbyterians, and the In-
Dependants, who were near a kin,
Advanc'd, and in a numerous Swarm,
Chose each a Leg, and each an Arm;
Because they love like Bully Huff,
To Things decide by Kick and Cuff:
'Tis nat'ral for a Tribe to claim
Those things, that best will serve their Aim.
Dependants, who were near a kin,
Advanc'd, and in a numerous Swarm,
Chose each a Leg, and each an Arm;
Because they love like Bully Huff,
To Things decide by Kick and Cuff:
'Tis nat'ral for a Tribe to claim
Those things, that best will serve their Aim.
The Baptist Teachers, being wise,
Came in the next, and chose the Thighs;
Because when wicked Satan's in 'em,
They dearly love to creep between 'em;
For these more lustful than the Pigeon,
Do nothing but debauch Religion.
Came in the next, and chose the Thighs;
Because when wicked Satan's in 'em,
They dearly love to creep between 'em;
15
Do nothing but debauch Religion.
So rav'nous Gluttons at a Feast,
Secure the Bit, they like the best.
Secure the Bit, they like the best.
The Quakers next came sidling in,
And for their Portion, chose the Spleen,
Which fills them so with Melancholy,
They can't like other Sects be jolly:
But sighing in their Meetings sit,
Like Hypochondriack Bedlamite,
As if they fancy'd by their Sadness,
Religion was a hum-drum Madness.
So Cats, if once with Milts they're fed,
Sit moping by they Fire side,
And choak the Spirits in their Blood,
By their dull malancholy Food.
And for their Portion, chose the Spleen,
Which fills them so with Melancholy,
They can't like other Sects be jolly:
But sighing in their Meetings sit,
Like Hypochondriack Bedlamite,
As if they fancy'd by their Sadness,
Religion was a hum-drum Madness.
So Cats, if once with Milts they're fed,
Sit moping by they Fire side,
And choak the Spirits in their Blood,
By their dull malancholy Food.
Seekers and Singers next took Pains
T'approach Religion's poor Remains;
The Guts and Garbich they possess'd,
And thought themselves most highly bless'd;
From whence they love to exercise,
As 'tis conjectur'd by the Wise,
Religion in a Beastly manner,
To their own Shame, and Heaven's Dishonour:
So ev'ry Bear and Wolf delights
To please their Savage Appetites
With stinking Carrion, that is nasty,
Much rather than a Ven'son Pasty.
T'approach Religion's poor Remains;
The Guts and Garbich they possess'd,
And thought themselves most highly bless'd;
16
As 'tis conjectur'd by the Wise,
Religion in a Beastly manner,
To their own Shame, and Heaven's Dishonour:
So ev'ry Bear and Wolf delights
To please their Savage Appetites
With stinking Carrion, that is nasty,
Much rather than a Ven'son Pasty.
The Pope adorn'd with Crowns and Crosses,
In all's Pontificalibusses,
Came puffing next in mighty Sweat,
As if he fear'd h'ad staid too late,
With a long glitt'ring Train behind him,
Of Crazy Card'nals, to attend him;
Each dizen'd in his Robes of State,
And cap'd with bloody-colour'd Hat,
Follow'd by Troops of Popish Liars,
Priests, Jesuits, and bald-pate Fryars:
Some from their Churches, some from Cloysters,
All mumbling o'er their Pater Nosters;
But all th'Religion they could find,
Was th'empty Carcase left behind,
Mangl'd, without the Head or Heart,
Depriv'd of every noble Part;
With that, they lifted up the Trunk,
And cry'd, Habemus eam nunc;
But when the Clergy all had seen it,
And finding truly nothing in it;
They form'd this Project in a Trice,
To cheat their silly Biggots Eyes;
A huge prepost'rous Paste-board Head,
The Priests most exquisitly made,
And did with Colours so contrive
To make it look as if alive;
Then plac'd it on Religion's Shoulders,
To cheat the credulous Beholders.
Huge Legs too, they compos'd of Plaster,
That the poor Trunk might stand the faster.
Her Arms of Massy Brass they made,
The better to defend her Head;
And when so far they had proceeded,
That she was legg'd, and arm'd, and headed
The empty Carcase to replete
With somthing to improve the Cheat,
They stuff'd (to gull believing Fools)
With Reliques, and false Miracles,
And such like Toys, by whose Assistance,
The Sides were kept at proper Distance,
Which if it had not been for that,
By this time would have fall'n so flat,
That the poor patch'd prepost'rous Puppit,
Must needs have been much more decrepit.
When thus their Monster they had rais'd,
The Priests their ill-shap'd Idol prais'd,
And cry'd, Here only's to be found,
The true Religion safe and sound;
Forgetting England had the Heart,
The Head, and ev'ry noble Part.
In all's Pontificalibusses,
Came puffing next in mighty Sweat,
As if he fear'd h'ad staid too late,
With a long glitt'ring Train behind him,
Of Crazy Card'nals, to attend him;
Each dizen'd in his Robes of State,
And cap'd with bloody-colour'd Hat,
Follow'd by Troops of Popish Liars,
Priests, Jesuits, and bald-pate Fryars:
Some from their Churches, some from Cloysters,
All mumbling o'er their Pater Nosters;
17
Was th'empty Carcase left behind,
Mangl'd, without the Head or Heart,
Depriv'd of every noble Part;
With that, they lifted up the Trunk,
And cry'd, Habemus eam nunc;
But when the Clergy all had seen it,
And finding truly nothing in it;
They form'd this Project in a Trice,
To cheat their silly Biggots Eyes;
A huge prepost'rous Paste-board Head,
The Priests most exquisitly made,
And did with Colours so contrive
To make it look as if alive;
Then plac'd it on Religion's Shoulders,
To cheat the credulous Beholders.
Huge Legs too, they compos'd of Plaster,
That the poor Trunk might stand the faster.
Her Arms of Massy Brass they made,
The better to defend her Head;
18
That she was legg'd, and arm'd, and headed
The empty Carcase to replete
With somthing to improve the Cheat,
They stuff'd (to gull believing Fools)
With Reliques, and false Miracles,
And such like Toys, by whose Assistance,
The Sides were kept at proper Distance,
Which if it had not been for that,
By this time would have fall'n so flat,
That the poor patch'd prepost'rous Puppit,
Must needs have been much more decrepit.
When thus their Monster they had rais'd,
The Priests their ill-shap'd Idol prais'd,
And cry'd, Here only's to be found,
The true Religion safe and sound;
Forgetting England had the Heart,
The Head, and ev'ry noble Part.
So Romish Priests, like those poor Fellows
That live by shewing Punchionello's,
Make their own Puppets, then invite
Poor Fools to wonder at the Sight.
That live by shewing Punchionello's,
19
Poor Fools to wonder at the Sight.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |