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 |  |
3
Near to this Hempen Dancing-School,
Where a fam'd Doctor play'd the Fool,
A Booth diminitive their stood,
Where Pigmy Actors, made of Wood,
Were leaning o'er a Canvas Clout,
And squeaking to the Rabble Rout.
As the two Puppets thus were sporting,
Guided by Hands behind the Curtain,
Young Coridon, from Country Farm,
With Phillis hanging on his Arm,
Dress'd up in all their Rural Pride,
As fine as Bridegroom and his Bride,
Were gazing round, to feast their Eyes
With the Fair's tempting Rarities:
No sooner had they fix'd their Peepers
Upon the Life-less Whipper-Snappers,
But Roger jogging of his Dolly,
And pointing up, to shew his Folly,
Cry'd out, Wolaw! there's little Folk:
Ads Heart! how prettily they talk?
Did'st ever see two prattling Fairies
Before, so full of arch Figaries?
Look, look, Joan, how the Vezons fight!
Who'd think they were so full of Spite?
What woundy Polts one gives the other?
Nouns, how he mauls his little Brother.
Where a fam'd Doctor play'd the Fool,
A Booth diminitive their stood,
Where Pigmy Actors, made of Wood,
Were leaning o'er a Canvas Clout,
And squeaking to the Rabble Rout.
As the two Puppets thus were sporting,
Guided by Hands behind the Curtain,
Young Coridon, from Country Farm,
With Phillis hanging on his Arm,
Dress'd up in all their Rural Pride,
As fine as Bridegroom and his Bride,
4
With the Fair's tempting Rarities:
No sooner had they fix'd their Peepers
Upon the Life-less Whipper-Snappers,
But Roger jogging of his Dolly,
And pointing up, to shew his Folly,
Cry'd out, Wolaw! there's little Folk:
Ads Heart! how prettily they talk?
Did'st ever see two prattling Fairies
Before, so full of arch Figaries?
Look, look, Joan, how the Vezons fight!
Who'd think they were so full of Spite?
What woundy Polts one gives the other?
Nouns, how he mauls his little Brother.
Says Joan, a Murrain take 'em both,
E'en let 'em fight it out, in Troth,
'Till one knocks t'other on the Head.
No matter if they both were dead.
These are the ugly Elves, that creep
At Night, and nip us in our Sleep.
I'm sure their Fingers I may rue,
They've often pinch'd me black and blue.
Prethee, good Roger, let's pass by 'em,
Methinks I tremble to be nigh 'em:
Faw, ill-look'd Urchins, out upon 'em;
Had I my Will, I'm sure I'd Stone 'em.
Thus Joan, be'ng not content to stay,
Lugg'd Roger thro' the Crowd away.
There's no resisting Female Force,
Grey Mare will prove the better Horse.
E'en let 'em fight it out, in Troth,
'Till one knocks t'other on the Head.
No matter if they both were dead.
These are the ugly Elves, that creep
At Night, and nip us in our Sleep.
5
They've often pinch'd me black and blue.
Prethee, good Roger, let's pass by 'em,
Methinks I tremble to be nigh 'em:
Faw, ill-look'd Urchins, out upon 'em;
Had I my Will, I'm sure I'd Stone 'em.
Thus Joan, be'ng not content to stay,
Lugg'd Roger thro' the Crowd away.
There's no resisting Female Force,
Grey Mare will prove the better Horse.
When thus the wrangling Clouts and Sticks
Had pleas'd the Rabble with their Tricks,
Out from a Door, or dusky Hole,
There popp'd a Head upon a Pole,
That had a much more frightful Phiz,
Than Magog over little Ease.
The Mob beheld with great Surprize,
The Paste-board Nose and painted Eyes,
Whilst frighted Children trembling star'd
On his huge Whiskers, and his Beard.
The Hoop-stick Body, that was made
To answer this prepost'rous Head,
Was of so strange a Mushroon Nature,
That it improv'd its growing Stature
At least six Foot in half a Minute,
By th' Help of some Device within it.
To this Gigantick monst'rous Figure,
Great as Goliah, if not bigger,
A Centaur, to improve the Face,
Came in, half Man, and half a Horse,
Like a Rehearsal War-like Trooper,
In Cloak that hid his Prancer's Crupper.
This little Mortal of a Fellow,
Scarce twice the Bulk of Puncheonello,
Mounted upon a Steed with two Legs,
That look'd most strangely with so few Legs,
Such as Droncanso oft has slain
By whole Brigades in Drury-Lane;
Arm'd like a Warrier, did appear
Fierce as Dragoon or Granadier.
This doubty Knight, in furious manner
Riding abroad in search of Honour,
Meeting the Giant in his way,
Began a cruel Bloody Fray,
And in his bold robust Attack,
Flung him so hard upon his Back,
That made his Hoop-stick Bones to crack.
St. George, so fam'd in ancient Story,
Could never merit greater Glory,
Or strut with more victorious Pride,
When he had thwack'd the Dragon's Hide,
Than did the little Don Furioso,
Tho' he perform'd his Part but so so.
'Tis true, the Fight was fierce, but short,
Th' unweildy Giant made no Sport;
Tho' arm'd with a stupendious Club,
Yet t'other gave him such a Drub,
That did his Paste-board Noddle wound,
And brought him head-long to the Ground;
At which, the Mob huzza'd for Joy,
And cry'd aloud, Well done, my Boy!
Had pleas'd the Rabble with their Tricks,
Out from a Door, or dusky Hole,
There popp'd a Head upon a Pole,
That had a much more frightful Phiz,
Than Magog over little Ease.
The Mob beheld with great Surprize,
The Paste-board Nose and painted Eyes,
Whilst frighted Children trembling star'd
On his huge Whiskers, and his Beard.
6
To answer this prepost'rous Head,
Was of so strange a Mushroon Nature,
That it improv'd its growing Stature
At least six Foot in half a Minute,
By th' Help of some Device within it.
To this Gigantick monst'rous Figure,
Great as Goliah, if not bigger,
A Centaur, to improve the Face,
Came in, half Man, and half a Horse,
Like a Rehearsal War-like Trooper,
In Cloak that hid his Prancer's Crupper.
This little Mortal of a Fellow,
Scarce twice the Bulk of Puncheonello,
Mounted upon a Steed with two Legs,
That look'd most strangely with so few Legs,
Such as Droncanso oft has slain
By whole Brigades in Drury-Lane;
Arm'd like a Warrier, did appear
Fierce as Dragoon or Granadier.
7
Riding abroad in search of Honour,
Meeting the Giant in his way,
Began a cruel Bloody Fray,
And in his bold robust Attack,
Flung him so hard upon his Back,
That made his Hoop-stick Bones to crack.
St. George, so fam'd in ancient Story,
Could never merit greater Glory,
Or strut with more victorious Pride,
When he had thwack'd the Dragon's Hide,
Than did the little Don Furioso,
Tho' he perform'd his Part but so so.
'Tis true, the Fight was fierce, but short,
Th' unweildy Giant made no Sport;
Tho' arm'd with a stupendious Club,
Yet t'other gave him such a Drub,
That did his Paste-board Noddle wound,
And brought him head-long to the Ground;
8
And cry'd aloud, Well done, my Boy!
Thought I, what Monarch would be proud
O'th' nauseous Flatt'ries of the Crowd,
Who thus bestow their noisy Shouts
On such prepost'rous Sticks and Clouts?
O'th' nauseous Flatt'ries of the Crowd,
Who thus bestow their noisy Shouts
On such prepost'rous Sticks and Clouts?
When with much Pain the Front I'd view'd,
And elbow'd thro' the Multitude,
I rambl'd round into the Rear,
To see the hair-brain'd Doings there,
Where a young Fry of Mob I found
In Boats and Coaches, flying round
Between the Heavens and the Ground.
Thought I, this represents most truly
The Rabble's Giddiness and Folly,
Who tho' they earn their Bread like Horses,
Yet never fail to draw their Purses
To feed the Knave, that finds a Way
To please 'em on a Holy-day.
Thus he, who by his Wit advances
New Whims, to rock their tott'ring Fancies,
May be assur'd to gain his Ends,
And make the giddy Fools his Friends.
And elbow'd thro' the Multitude,
I rambl'd round into the Rear,
To see the hair-brain'd Doings there,
Where a young Fry of Mob I found
In Boats and Coaches, flying round
Between the Heavens and the Ground.
Thought I, this represents most truly
The Rabble's Giddiness and Folly,
Who tho' they earn their Bread like Horses,
Yet never fail to draw their Purses
To feed the Knave, that finds a Way
To please 'em on a Holy-day.
9
New Whims, to rock their tott'ring Fancies,
May be assur'd to gain his Ends,
And make the giddy Fools his Friends.
The subtile preaching-gifted Saint,
That can but humour 'm in his Cant,
And lift 'em up into the Air,
But nearer Heaven than they were;
Tho' like these Jim-cracks, in the main,
He sets 'em gently down again,
And leaves the Block-heads reinstated,
Just as they were before he prated;
Yet, thro' their Ears, he finds a Way
To pick their Pockets e'ery Day.
That can but humour 'm in his Cant,
And lift 'em up into the Air,
But nearer Heaven than they were;
Tho' like these Jim-cracks, in the main,
He sets 'em gently down again,
And leaves the Block-heads reinstated,
Just as they were before he prated;
Yet, thro' their Ears, he finds a Way
To pick their Pockets e'ery Day.
So Politicians form Devices,
And raise new Whims, to please the Niseys;
Then take th' Advantage of their Blindness,
And pass an Jnj'ry for a Kindness
So slily, that the foolish Throng
Shall hug the Man that does 'em wrong;
And with their loud Huzza's, proclaim,
In open Streets, his wond'rous Fame,
Tho' all his fair Pretences, tend
To gull and cheat 'em in the End.
And raise new Whims, to please the Niseys;
Then take th' Advantage of their Blindness,
And pass an Jnj'ry for a Kindness
So slily, that the foolish Throng
Shall hug the Man that does 'em wrong;
10
In open Streets, his wond'rous Fame,
Tho' all his fair Pretences, tend
To gull and cheat 'em in the End.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |