Samuel Butler: Hudibras Written in the time of the late wars: The text edited by A. R. Waller |
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CANTO II.
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 | Samuel Butler: Hudibras |  |
129
CANTO II.
THE ARGUMENT.
The Knight and Squire in hot Dispute,Within an Ace of falling out;
Are parted with a sudden fright
Of strange Alarm, and stranger Sight;
With which adventuring to stickle,
They 're sent away in nasty pickle.
'Tis strange how some men's Tempers suit
(Like Bawd and Brandee) with Dispute,
That for their own Opinions stand fast,
Only to have them claw'd and canvast.
That kept their Consciences in Cases,
As Fidlers do their Crowds and Bases,
Ne'er to be us'd but when they're bent
To play a fit for Argument.
Make true and false, unjust and just,
Of no use but to be discust.
Dispute and set a Paradox,
Like a strait Boot upon the Stocks,
And stretch it more unmercifully,
Than Helmont, Mountaign, White, or Tully.
So th' antient Stoicks in their Porch,
With fierce dispute maintain'd their Church,
Beat out their Brains in fight and study,
To prove that Virtue is a Body,
That Bonum is an Animal,
Made good with stout Polemique Braul:
In which, some hundreds on the place
Were slain outright, and many a face
Retrench'd of Nose, and Eyes, and Beard,
To maintain what their Sect averr'd.
All which the Knight and Squire in wrath
Had like t'have suffer'd for their faith;
Each striving to make good his own,
As by the sequel shall be shown.
The Sun had long since in the Lap
Of Thetis, taken out his Nap,
And like a Lobster boyl'd, the Morn
From black to red began to turn.
(Like Bawd and Brandee) with Dispute,
That for their own Opinions stand fast,
Only to have them claw'd and canvast.
That kept their Consciences in Cases,
As Fidlers do their Crowds and Bases,
Ne'er to be us'd but when they're bent
To play a fit for Argument.
Make true and false, unjust and just,
Of no use but to be discust.
Dispute and set a Paradox,
Like a strait Boot upon the Stocks,
And stretch it more unmercifully,
Than Helmont, Mountaign, White, or Tully.
So th' antient Stoicks in their Porch,
With fierce dispute maintain'd their Church,
Beat out their Brains in fight and study,
130
That Bonum is an Animal,
Made good with stout Polemique Braul:
In which, some hundreds on the place
Were slain outright, and many a face
Retrench'd of Nose, and Eyes, and Beard,
To maintain what their Sect averr'd.
All which the Knight and Squire in wrath
Had like t'have suffer'd for their faith;
Each striving to make good his own,
As by the sequel shall be shown.
The Sun had long since in the Lap
Of Thetis, taken out his Nap,
And like a Lobster boyl'd, the Morn
From black to red began to turn.
When Hudibras, whom thoughts and aking
'Twixt sleeping kept all night, and waking,
Began to rouse his drousie eyes,
And from his Couch prepar'd to rise;
Resolving to dispatch the Deed
He vow'd to do, with trusty speed.
But first, with knocking loud and bauling,
He rous'd the Squire, in Truckle lolling,
And, after many Circumstances,
Which vulgar Authors in Romances,
Do use to spend their time and wits on,
To make impertinent Description;
They got (with much ado) to Horse,
And to the Castle bent their Course,
In which he to the Dame before
To suffer whipping Duty swore:
Where now arriv'd, and half unharnest,
To carry on the work in earnest,
He stopp'd and paus'd upon the sudden,
And with a serious forehead plodding,
Sprung a new Scruple in his head,
Which first he scratch'd and after sed;
Whether it be direct infringing
An Oath, if I should wave this swinging,
And what I've sworn to bear, forbear,
And so b'Equivocation swear;
Or whether 't be a lesser Sin,
To be forsworn, than act the thing,
Are deep and subtle points, which must,
T'inform my Conscience, be discust,
In which to err a little, may
To errors infinite make way:
And therefore I desire to know
Thy Judgment, ere we farther go.
'Twixt sleeping kept all night, and waking,
Began to rouse his drousie eyes,
And from his Couch prepar'd to rise;
Resolving to dispatch the Deed
He vow'd to do, with trusty speed.
But first, with knocking loud and bauling,
He rous'd the Squire, in Truckle lolling,
And, after many Circumstances,
Which vulgar Authors in Romances,
Do use to spend their time and wits on,
To make impertinent Description;
They got (with much ado) to Horse,
And to the Castle bent their Course,
In which he to the Dame before
To suffer whipping Duty swore:
Where now arriv'd, and half unharnest,
To carry on the work in earnest,
He stopp'd and paus'd upon the sudden,
And with a serious forehead plodding,
Sprung a new Scruple in his head,
Which first he scratch'd and after sed;
Whether it be direct infringing
An Oath, if I should wave this swinging,
And what I've sworn to bear, forbear,
131
Or whether 't be a lesser Sin,
To be forsworn, than act the thing,
Are deep and subtle points, which must,
T'inform my Conscience, be discust,
In which to err a little, may
To errors infinite make way:
And therefore I desire to know
Thy Judgment, ere we farther go.
Quoth Ralpho, since you do injoin't
I shall enlarge upon the Point.
And for my own part do not doubt
Th' Affirmative may be made out.
But first to state the Case aright,
For best advantage of our light:
And thus 'tis: Whether 't be [a] Sin,
To claw and curry your own skin
Greater, or less, than to forbear,
And that you are forsworn, forswear.
But first, o'th' first: The Inward Man,
And Outward, like a Clan and Clan,
Have always been at Daggers-drawing,
And one another Clapper-clawing:
Not that they really cuff or fence,
But in a Spiritual Mistique sence,
Which to mistake, and make 'em squabble,
In literal fray, 's abhominable;
'Tis Heathenish, in frequent use,
With Pagans, and Apostate Jews,
To offer Sacrifice of Bridewels:
Like modern Indians to their Idols,
And mungrel Christians of our times,
That expiate less with greater Crimes,
And call the foul Abhomination,
Contrition, and Mortification.
Is't not enough w're bruis'd and kicked,
With sinful members of the wicked;
Our Vessels, that are sanctifi'd,
Profan'd and curri'd, back and side;
But we must claw our selves, with shameful,
And Heathen stripes, by their example?
Which (were there nothing to forbid it)
Is impious because they did it.
This therefore may be justly reckon'd
A heinous sin. Now to the second,
That Saints may claim a Dispensation
To swear and forswear on occasion;
I doubt not, but it will appear,
With pregnant light. The point is clear.
Oaths are but words, and words but wind,
Too feeble implements to bind;
And hold with deeds proportion, so
As shadows to a substance do.
Then when they strive for place, 'tis fit
The weaker Vessel should submit:
Although your Church be opposite
To ours, as Black Friers are to White,
In Rule and Order: Yet I grant
You are a Reformado Saint;
And what the Saints do claim as due,
You may pretend a Title to:
But Saints, whom Oaths or Vows oblige,
Know little of their Priviledge;
Farther (I mean) than carrying on
Some self-advantage of their own,
For if the Dev'l, to serve his turn,
Can tell Truth; why the Saints should scorn
When it serves theirs, to swear, and lie,
I think, there's little reason why:
Else h'has a greater pow'r than they,
Which 'twere impiety to say.
W'are not commanded to forbear,
Indefinitely, at all to swear.
But to swear idly; and in vain,
Without self-interest or gain.
For, breaking of an Oath, and Lying,
Is but a kind of Self-denying,
A Saint-like virtue, and from hence,
Some have broke Oaths by Providence:
Some, to the Glory of the Lord,
Perjur'd themselves, and broke their word:
And this, the constant Rule and Practise
Of all our late Apostles Acts is,
Was not the Cause at first begun
With Perjury, and carry'd on?
Was there an Oath the Godly took,
But, in due time and place, they broke?
Did we not bring our Oaths in first,
Before our Plate, to have them burst,
And cast in fitter models, for
The present use of Church and War?
Did not our Worthies of the House,
Before they broke the Peace, break Vows?
For having freed us, first, from both
Th' Allegiance and Supremacy Oath;
Did they not, next, compell the Nation,
To take, and break the Protestation?
To swear, and after to recant
The Solemn League and Covenant?
To take th' Engagement, and disclaim it,
Enforc'd by those, who first did frame it?
Did they not swear at first, to fight
For the KING's Safety, and His Right?
And after march'd to find him out,
And charg'd him home with Horse and Foot?
And yet still had the confidence,
To swear it was in his defence?
Did they not swear to live and die
With Essex, and streight laid him by?
If that were all, for some have swore
As false as they, if th' did no more.
Did they not swear to maintain Law,
In which that swearing made a Flaw?
For Protestant Religion Vow,
That did that Vowing disallow?
For Priviledge of Parliament,
In which that swearing made a Rent?
And, since, of all the three, not one
Is left in being, 'tis well known.
Did they not swear, in express words;
To prop and back the House of Lords?
And after turn'd out the whole House-ful
Of Peers, as dang'rous, and unuseful?
So Cromwel with deep Oaths and Vows,
Swore all the Commons out o'th' House,
Vow'd that the Red-coats would disband,
I marry would they at their Command.
And troul'd'em on, and swore, and swore,
Till th' Army turn'd 'em out of Door;
This tells us plainly, what they thought,
That Oaths and swearing goes for nought.
And that by them th' were onely meant,
To serve for an Expedient.
What was the Publick Faith found out for,
But to slur men of what they fought for?
The Publick Faith, which ev'ry one
Is bound t'observe, yet kept by none;
And if that go for nothing, why
Should Private Faith have such a tye?
I shall enlarge upon the Point.
And for my own part do not doubt
Th' Affirmative may be made out.
But first to state the Case aright,
For best advantage of our light:
And thus 'tis: Whether 't be [a] Sin,
To claw and curry your own skin
Greater, or less, than to forbear,
And that you are forsworn, forswear.
But first, o'th' first: The Inward Man,
And Outward, like a Clan and Clan,
Have always been at Daggers-drawing,
And one another Clapper-clawing:
Not that they really cuff or fence,
But in a Spiritual Mistique sence,
Which to mistake, and make 'em squabble,
In literal fray, 's abhominable;
'Tis Heathenish, in frequent use,
With Pagans, and Apostate Jews,
To offer Sacrifice of Bridewels:
Like modern Indians to their Idols,
And mungrel Christians of our times,
That expiate less with greater Crimes,
And call the foul Abhomination,
Contrition, and Mortification.
Is't not enough w're bruis'd and kicked,
With sinful members of the wicked;
Our Vessels, that are sanctifi'd,
Profan'd and curri'd, back and side;
But we must claw our selves, with shameful,
132
Which (were there nothing to forbid it)
Is impious because they did it.
This therefore may be justly reckon'd
A heinous sin. Now to the second,
That Saints may claim a Dispensation
To swear and forswear on occasion;
I doubt not, but it will appear,
With pregnant light. The point is clear.
Oaths are but words, and words but wind,
Too feeble implements to bind;
And hold with deeds proportion, so
As shadows to a substance do.
Then when they strive for place, 'tis fit
The weaker Vessel should submit:
Although your Church be opposite
To ours, as Black Friers are to White,
In Rule and Order: Yet I grant
You are a Reformado Saint;
And what the Saints do claim as due,
You may pretend a Title to:
But Saints, whom Oaths or Vows oblige,
Know little of their Priviledge;
Farther (I mean) than carrying on
Some self-advantage of their own,
For if the Dev'l, to serve his turn,
Can tell Truth; why the Saints should scorn
When it serves theirs, to swear, and lie,
I think, there's little reason why:
Else h'has a greater pow'r than they,
Which 'twere impiety to say.
W'are not commanded to forbear,
Indefinitely, at all to swear.
But to swear idly; and in vain,
Without self-interest or gain.
For, breaking of an Oath, and Lying,
Is but a kind of Self-denying,
A Saint-like virtue, and from hence,
Some have broke Oaths by Providence:
Some, to the Glory of the Lord,
133
And this, the constant Rule and Practise
Of all our late Apostles Acts is,
Was not the Cause at first begun
With Perjury, and carry'd on?
Was there an Oath the Godly took,
But, in due time and place, they broke?
Did we not bring our Oaths in first,
Before our Plate, to have them burst,
And cast in fitter models, for
The present use of Church and War?
Did not our Worthies of the House,
Before they broke the Peace, break Vows?
For having freed us, first, from both
Th' Allegiance and Supremacy Oath;
Did they not, next, compell the Nation,
To take, and break the Protestation?
To swear, and after to recant
The Solemn League and Covenant?
To take th' Engagement, and disclaim it,
Enforc'd by those, who first did frame it?
Did they not swear at first, to fight
For the KING's Safety, and His Right?
And after march'd to find him out,
And charg'd him home with Horse and Foot?
And yet still had the confidence,
To swear it was in his defence?
Did they not swear to live and die
With Essex, and streight laid him by?
If that were all, for some have swore
As false as they, if th' did no more.
Did they not swear to maintain Law,
In which that swearing made a Flaw?
For Protestant Religion Vow,
That did that Vowing disallow?
For Priviledge of Parliament,
In which that swearing made a Rent?
And, since, of all the three, not one
Is left in being, 'tis well known.
Did they not swear, in express words;
134
And after turn'd out the whole House-ful
Of Peers, as dang'rous, and unuseful?
So Cromwel with deep Oaths and Vows,
Swore all the Commons out o'th' House,
Vow'd that the Red-coats would disband,
I marry would they at their Command.
And troul'd'em on, and swore, and swore,
Till th' Army turn'd 'em out of Door;
This tells us plainly, what they thought,
That Oaths and swearing goes for nought.
And that by them th' were onely meant,
To serve for an Expedient.
What was the Publick Faith found out for,
But to slur men of what they fought for?
The Publick Faith, which ev'ry one
Is bound t'observe, yet kept by none;
And if that go for nothing, why
Should Private Faith have such a tye?
Oaths were not purpos'd more than Law,
To keep the Good and Just in aw,
But to confine the Bad and Sinful,
Like Moral Cattle in a Pinfold.
A Saint's of th' heavenly Realm a Peer:
And as no Peer is bound to swear,
But on the Gospel of his Honor,
Of which he may dispose, as Owner;
It follows, though the thing be forgery,
And false, th' affirm, it is no perjury,
But a mere Ceremony, and a breach
Of nothing, but a form of speech,
And goes for no more when 'tis took,
Than mere saluting of the Book.
Suppose the Scriptures are of force,
They 're but Commissions of Course,
And Saints have freedom to digress,
And vary from 'em as they please;
Or misinterpret them, by private
Instructions, to all Aims they drive at,
Then why should we our selves abridge
And Curtail our own Priviledge?
Quakers (that like to Lanthorns, bear
Their light within 'em) will not swear.
Their Gospel is an Accidence,
By which they construe Conscience,
And hold no sin so deeply red,
As that of breaking Priscian's head;
(The Head and Founder of their Order,
That stirring Hats held worse than murder)
These thinking th' are obliged to Troth
In swearing, will not take an Oath;
Like Mules, who if th' have not their will
To keep their own pace, stand stock still;
But they are weak, and little know
What Free-born Consciences may do,
'Tis the temptation of the Devil,
That makes all humane actions evil:
For Saints may do the same things by
The Spirit, in Syncerity,
Which other men are tempted to,
And at the Devils instance do;
And yet the Actions be contrary,
Just as the Saints and Wicked vary.
For as on land there is no Beast,
But in some Fish at Sea's exprest;
So in the Wicked there's no Vice,
Of which the Saints have not a spice;
And yet that thing that's pious in
The one, in th' other is a Sin.
Is't not Ridiculous, and Nonsence,
A Saint should be a slave to Conscience?
That ought to be above such Fancies,
As far, as above Ordinances,
She's of the Wicked, as I guess,
B'her looks, her language, and her dress,
And though, like Constables, we search
For false Wares, one anothers Church:
Yet all of us hold this for true,
No Faith is to the wicked due;
For Truth is Precious and Divine,
Too rich a Pearl for Carnal Swine.
To keep the Good and Just in aw,
But to confine the Bad and Sinful,
Like Moral Cattle in a Pinfold.
A Saint's of th' heavenly Realm a Peer:
And as no Peer is bound to swear,
But on the Gospel of his Honor,
Of which he may dispose, as Owner;
It follows, though the thing be forgery,
And false, th' affirm, it is no perjury,
But a mere Ceremony, and a breach
Of nothing, but a form of speech,
And goes for no more when 'tis took,
Than mere saluting of the Book.
Suppose the Scriptures are of force,
They 're but Commissions of Course,
And Saints have freedom to digress,
And vary from 'em as they please;
Or misinterpret them, by private
Instructions, to all Aims they drive at,
Then why should we our selves abridge
135
Quakers (that like to Lanthorns, bear
Their light within 'em) will not swear.
Their Gospel is an Accidence,
By which they construe Conscience,
And hold no sin so deeply red,
As that of breaking Priscian's head;
(The Head and Founder of their Order,
That stirring Hats held worse than murder)
These thinking th' are obliged to Troth
In swearing, will not take an Oath;
Like Mules, who if th' have not their will
To keep their own pace, stand stock still;
But they are weak, and little know
What Free-born Consciences may do,
'Tis the temptation of the Devil,
That makes all humane actions evil:
For Saints may do the same things by
The Spirit, in Syncerity,
Which other men are tempted to,
And at the Devils instance do;
And yet the Actions be contrary,
Just as the Saints and Wicked vary.
For as on land there is no Beast,
But in some Fish at Sea's exprest;
So in the Wicked there's no Vice,
Of which the Saints have not a spice;
And yet that thing that's pious in
The one, in th' other is a Sin.
Is't not Ridiculous, and Nonsence,
A Saint should be a slave to Conscience?
That ought to be above such Fancies,
As far, as above Ordinances,
She's of the Wicked, as I guess,
B'her looks, her language, and her dress,
And though, like Constables, we search
For false Wares, one anothers Church:
Yet all of us hold this for true,
No Faith is to the wicked due;
For Truth is Precious and Divine,
136
Quoth Hudibr[a]s, All this is true,
Yet 'tis not fit that all men knew
Those Mysteries and Revelations;
And therefore Topical Evasions
Of subtle Turns, and Shifts of sence,
Serve best with th' Wicked for pretence,
Such as the learned Jesuits use,
And Presbyterians, for excuse,
Against the Protestants, when th' happen
To find their Churches taken napping.
As thus: A breach of Oath is Duple.
And either way admits a scruple,
And may be ex parte of the Maker,
More criminal, than the injur'd Taker.
For he that strains too far a Vow,
Will break it like an o'er-bent Bow:
And he that made, and forc'd it, broke it,
Not he that for convenience took it:
A broken Oath is, quatenus Oath,
As sound t'all purposes of Troth,
As broken Laws are ne'er the worse,
Nay till th' are broken, have no force,
What's Justice to a man, or Laws,
That never comes within their Claws?
They have no pow'r, but to admonish,
Cannot controul, coerce, or punish,
Until they 're broken, and then touch
Those only that do make them such.
Beside, no Engagement is allow'd,
By men in Prison made, for Good;
For when they 're set at liberty,
They 're from th' Engagement too, set free:
The Rabbins write, when any Jew
Did make to God, or Man, a Vow,
Which afterward he found untoward,
And stubborn to be kept, or too hard;
Any three other Jews o'th' Nation,
Might free him from the Obligation:
And have not two Saints pow'r to use,
A greater Priviledge than three Jews?
The Court of Cons[c]ience, which in Man
Should be supream and Soveraign:
Is't fit, should be subordinate,
To ev'ry petty Court i'th' State,
And have less Power than the lesser,
To deal with Perjury at pleasure?
Have it's proceedings disallow'd, or
Allow'd, at fancy of Py-powder?
Tell all it does, or does not know,
For swearing ex Officio?
Be forc'd t'impeach a broken hedge,
And Pigs unring'd at Vis. Franc. Pledge.
Discover Thievees, and Bawds, Recusants,
Priests, Witches, Eves-droppers, and Nusance;
Tell who did play at Games unlawful,
And who fill'd Pots of Ale but half full.
And have no pow'r at all, nor shift,
To help it self at a dead lift?
Why should not Conscience have Vacation
As well as other Courts o'th' Nation?
Have equal power to adjourn
Appoint Appearance and Retorn?
And make as nice distinctions serve
To split a Case; as those that carve
Invoking Cuckolds names, hit joints,
Why should not tricks as slight, do points?
Is not the High-Court of Justice sworn
To judge that Law that serves their turn?
Make their own Jealousies High-Treason,
And fix 'em whomsoe'er they please on?
Cannot the Learned Councel there,
Make Laws in any shape appear?
Mould 'em as Witches do their Clay,
When they make Pictures to destroy?
And vex 'em into any form,
That fits their purpose to do harm?
Rack 'em until they do confess,
Impeach of Treason, whom they please.
And most perfidiously condemn,
Those that engag'd their Lives for them?
And yet do nothing in their own sense,
But what they ought by Oath and Conscience!
Can they not juggle, and, with slight
Conveyance, play with wrong and right;
And sell their blasts of wind as dear,
As Lapland Witches botl'd Air?
Will not Fear, Favor, Bribe, and Grutch,
The same Case sev'ral ways adjudge;
As Seamen with the self-same Gale
Will sev'ral different courses sail;
As when the Sea breaks o'er its bounds,
And overflows the level grounds;
Those Banks and Dams, that like a Screen,
Did keep it out, now keep it in:
So when Tyrannical Usurpation
Invades the freedom of a Nation,
The Laws o'th' Land that were intended
To keep it out, are made defend it.
Do's not in Chanc'ry ev'ry man swear,
What makes best for him in his Answer?
Is not the winding up Witnesses,
And nicking more than half the bus'ness?
For Witnesses, like Watches, go
Just as they're set, too fast or slow.
And where in Conscience, th' are strait lac'd;
'Tis ten to one, that side is cast.
Do not your Juries give their Verdict
As if they felt the Cause not heard it?
And as they please make Matter of Fact
Run all on one side, as th' are packt?
Nature has made Mans breast no Windores,
To publish what he does within doors;
Nor what dark secrets there inhabit,
Unless his own rash folly blob it.
If Oaths can do a man no good,
In his own bus'ness, why they shou'd
In other matters do him hurt,
I think there's little reason for't.
He that imposes an Oath, makes it,
Not he, that for convenience takes it:
Then how can any man be said
To break an Oath he never made?
These Reasons may perhaps look odly
To th' Wicked, though they evince the Godly;
But if they will not serve to clear
My Honor, I am ne'er the near.
Honor is like that glassy Bubble
That finds Philosophers such trouble,
Whose least part crackt, the whole does fly,
And Wits are crack'd, to find out why.
Yet 'tis not fit that all men knew
Those Mysteries and Revelations;
And therefore Topical Evasions
Of subtle Turns, and Shifts of sence,
Serve best with th' Wicked for pretence,
Such as the learned Jesuits use,
And Presbyterians, for excuse,
Against the Protestants, when th' happen
To find their Churches taken napping.
As thus: A breach of Oath is Duple.
And either way admits a scruple,
And may be ex parte of the Maker,
More criminal, than the injur'd Taker.
For he that strains too far a Vow,
Will break it like an o'er-bent Bow:
And he that made, and forc'd it, broke it,
Not he that for convenience took it:
A broken Oath is, quatenus Oath,
As sound t'all purposes of Troth,
As broken Laws are ne'er the worse,
Nay till th' are broken, have no force,
What's Justice to a man, or Laws,
That never comes within their Claws?
They have no pow'r, but to admonish,
Cannot controul, coerce, or punish,
Until they 're broken, and then touch
Those only that do make them such.
Beside, no Engagement is allow'd,
By men in Prison made, for Good;
For when they 're set at liberty,
They 're from th' Engagement too, set free:
The Rabbins write, when any Jew
Did make to God, or Man, a Vow,
Which afterward he found untoward,
And stubborn to be kept, or too hard;
Any three other Jews o'th' Nation,
Might free him from the Obligation:
And have not two Saints pow'r to use,
137
The Court of Cons[c]ience, which in Man
Should be supream and Soveraign:
Is't fit, should be subordinate,
To ev'ry petty Court i'th' State,
And have less Power than the lesser,
To deal with Perjury at pleasure?
Have it's proceedings disallow'd, or
Allow'd, at fancy of Py-powder?
Tell all it does, or does not know,
For swearing ex Officio?
Be forc'd t'impeach a broken hedge,
And Pigs unring'd at Vis. Franc. Pledge.
Discover Thievees, and Bawds, Recusants,
Priests, Witches, Eves-droppers, and Nusance;
Tell who did play at Games unlawful,
And who fill'd Pots of Ale but half full.
And have no pow'r at all, nor shift,
To help it self at a dead lift?
Why should not Conscience have Vacation
As well as other Courts o'th' Nation?
Have equal power to adjourn
Appoint Appearance and Retorn?
And make as nice distinctions serve
To split a Case; as those that carve
Invoking Cuckolds names, hit joints,
Why should not tricks as slight, do points?
Is not the High-Court of Justice sworn
To judge that Law that serves their turn?
Make their own Jealousies High-Treason,
And fix 'em whomsoe'er they please on?
Cannot the Learned Councel there,
Make Laws in any shape appear?
Mould 'em as Witches do their Clay,
When they make Pictures to destroy?
And vex 'em into any form,
That fits their purpose to do harm?
Rack 'em until they do confess,
Impeach of Treason, whom they please.
And most perfidiously condemn,
138
And yet do nothing in their own sense,
But what they ought by Oath and Conscience!
Can they not juggle, and, with slight
Conveyance, play with wrong and right;
And sell their blasts of wind as dear,
As Lapland Witches botl'd Air?
Will not Fear, Favor, Bribe, and Grutch,
The same Case sev'ral ways adjudge;
As Seamen with the self-same Gale
Will sev'ral different courses sail;
As when the Sea breaks o'er its bounds,
And overflows the level grounds;
Those Banks and Dams, that like a Screen,
Did keep it out, now keep it in:
So when Tyrannical Usurpation
Invades the freedom of a Nation,
The Laws o'th' Land that were intended
To keep it out, are made defend it.
Do's not in Chanc'ry ev'ry man swear,
What makes best for him in his Answer?
Is not the winding up Witnesses,
And nicking more than half the bus'ness?
For Witnesses, like Watches, go
Just as they're set, too fast or slow.
And where in Conscience, th' are strait lac'd;
'Tis ten to one, that side is cast.
Do not your Juries give their Verdict
As if they felt the Cause not heard it?
And as they please make Matter of Fact
Run all on one side, as th' are packt?
Nature has made Mans breast no Windores,
To publish what he does within doors;
Nor what dark secrets there inhabit,
Unless his own rash folly blob it.
If Oaths can do a man no good,
In his own bus'ness, why they shou'd
In other matters do him hurt,
I think there's little reason for't.
He that imposes an Oath, makes it,
139
Then how can any man be said
To break an Oath he never made?
These Reasons may perhaps look odly
To th' Wicked, though they evince the Godly;
But if they will not serve to clear
My Honor, I am ne'er the near.
Honor is like that glassy Bubble
That finds Philosophers such trouble,
Whose least part crackt, the whole does fly,
And Wits are crack'd, to find out why.
Quoth Ralpho, Honor's but a Word,
To swear by only, in a Lord:
In other men 'tis but a Huff,
To vapour with, instead of proof,
That like a Wen, looks big, and swels,
Is sensless, and just nothing else.
To swear by only, in a Lord:
In other men 'tis but a Huff,
To vapour with, instead of proof,
That like a Wen, looks big, and swels,
Is sensless, and just nothing else.
Let it (quoth he) be what it will,
It has the World's opinion still.
But as Men are not Wise that run
The slightest hazard, they may shun:
There may a Medium be found out
To clear to all the World the doubt;
And that is, if a man may do't
By Proxy whipt, or Substitute.
It has the World's opinion still.
But as Men are not Wise that run
The slightest hazard, they may shun:
There may a Medium be found out
To clear to all the World the doubt;
And that is, if a man may do't
By Proxy whipt, or Substitute.
Though nice, and dark the Point appear,
(Quoth Ralph) it may hold up and clear.
That Sinners may supply the place
Of suff'ring Saints is a plain Case.
Justice gives Sentence, many times,
On one man for another's Crimes,
Our Brethren of New-England use
Choice Malefactors to excuse,
And hang the Guiltless in their stead,
Of whom the Churches have less need.
As lately 't happen'd: in a Town,
There liv'd a Cobler, and but one,
That out of Doctrine could cut Use,
And mend mens Lives as well as Shooes,
This precious Brother having slain,
In times of Peace, an Indian,
(Not out of Malice but mere Zeal
Because he was an Infidel)
The mighty Tottipottymoy
Sent to our Elders an Envoy,
Complaining sorely of the Breach,
Of League, held forth by Brother Patch,
Against the Articles in force
Between both Churches, his and ours:
For which he crav'd the Saints to render
Into his hands, or hang th' Offender:
But they maturely having weigh'd,
They had no more but him o'th' Trade,
(A man, that serv'd them in a double
Capacity, to Teach, and Cobble)
Resolv'd to spare him, yet to do
The Indian Hoghan Moghan too
Impartial justice, in his stead did
Hang an old Weaver that was Bed-rid.
Then wherefore may not you be skip'd,
And in your room another whip'd:
For all Philosophers, but the Sceptick,
Hold Whipping may be Sympathetick.
(Quoth Ralph) it may hold up and clear.
That Sinners may supply the place
Of suff'ring Saints is a plain Case.
Justice gives Sentence, many times,
On one man for another's Crimes,
Our Brethren of New-England use
Choice Malefactors to excuse,
And hang the Guiltless in their stead,
Of whom the Churches have less need.
As lately 't happen'd: in a Town,
There liv'd a Cobler, and but one,
That out of Doctrine could cut Use,
And mend mens Lives as well as Shooes,
This precious Brother having slain,
140
(Not out of Malice but mere Zeal
Because he was an Infidel)
The mighty Tottipottymoy
Sent to our Elders an Envoy,
Complaining sorely of the Breach,
Of League, held forth by Brother Patch,
Against the Articles in force
Between both Churches, his and ours:
For which he crav'd the Saints to render
Into his hands, or hang th' Offender:
But they maturely having weigh'd,
They had no more but him o'th' Trade,
(A man, that serv'd them in a double
Capacity, to Teach, and Cobble)
Resolv'd to spare him, yet to do
The Indian Hoghan Moghan too
Impartial justice, in his stead did
Hang an old Weaver that was Bed-rid.
Then wherefore may not you be skip'd,
And in your room another whip'd:
For all Philosophers, but the Sceptick,
Hold Whipping may be Sympathetick.
It is enough, Quoth Hudibras,
Thou hast resolv'd, and clear'd the Case,
And canst in Conscience, not refuse,
From thy own Doctrine, to raise Use:
I know thou wilt not (for my sake)
Be tender-Conscienc'd of thy back:
Then strip thee of thy Carnal Jerkin,
And give thy outward-fellow a ferking.
For when thy Vessel, is new hoop'd,
All Leaks of sinning will be stop'd.
Thou hast resolv'd, and clear'd the Case,
And canst in Conscience, not refuse,
From thy own Doctrine, to raise Use:
I know thou wilt not (for my sake)
Be tender-Conscienc'd of thy back:
Then strip thee of thy Carnal Jerkin,
And give thy outward-fellow a ferking.
For when thy Vessel, is new hoop'd,
All Leaks of sinning will be stop'd.
Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter,
For in all Scruples of this Nature,
No man includes himself, nor turns
The Point upon his own Concerns.
As no man of his own self catches
The Itch, or amorous French aches:
So no man does himself convince
By his own Doctrine of his Sins.
And though all cry down Self, none means
His own self in a literal Sense.
Beside, it is not only Foppish,
But Vile, Idolatrous, and Popish,
For one man, out of his own Skin,
To frisk and whip another's Sin:
As Pedants out of School-boys breeches,
Do claw and curry their own Itches.
But in this Case it is profane,
And sinful too, because in vain:
For we must take our Oaths upon it,
You did the deed, when I have done it.
For in all Scruples of this Nature,
No man includes himself, nor turns
The Point upon his own Concerns.
As no man of his own self catches
The Itch, or amorous French aches:
So no man does himself convince
141
And though all cry down Self, none means
His own self in a literal Sense.
Beside, it is not only Foppish,
But Vile, Idolatrous, and Popish,
For one man, out of his own Skin,
To frisk and whip another's Sin:
As Pedants out of School-boys breeches,
Do claw and curry their own Itches.
But in this Case it is profane,
And sinful too, because in vain:
For we must take our Oaths upon it,
You did the deed, when I have done it.
Quoth Hudibras, That's answer'd soon;
Give us the Whip, we'll lay it on.
Give us the Whip, we'll lay it on.
Quoth Ralpho, That we may swear true,
'Twere properer that I whip'd you:
For when with your consent 'tis done,
The Act is really your own.
'Twere properer that I whip'd you:
For when with your consent 'tis done,
The Act is really your own.
Quoth Hudibras, It is in vain
(I see) to argue 'gainst the grain;
Or, like the Stars, incline men to,
What they're averse themselves to do,
For when Disputes are weari'd out,
'Tis Interest still resolves the doubt.
But since no reason can confute ye,
I'll try to force you to your Duty;
For so it is, how e'er you mince it,
As ere we part I shall evince it;
And curry (if you stand out) whether
You will or no, your stubborn Leather.
Canst thou refuse to bear thy part,
I'[th'] publick Work, base as thou art?
To higgle thus, for a few blows,
To gain thy Knight an opulent Spouse?
Whose wealth his bowels yern to purchase,
Merely for th' Interest of the Churches;
And when he has it in his claws,
Will not be hide-bound to the Cause;
Nor shalt thou find him a Curmudgin,
If thou dispatch it without grudging:
If not, resolve before we go,
That you and I must pull a Crow.
(I see) to argue 'gainst the grain;
Or, like the Stars, incline men to,
What they're averse themselves to do,
For when Disputes are weari'd out,
'Tis Interest still resolves the doubt.
But since no reason can confute ye,
I'll try to force you to your Duty;
For so it is, how e'er you mince it,
As ere we part I shall evince it;
And curry (if you stand out) whether
You will or no, your stubborn Leather.
Canst thou refuse to bear thy part,
I'[th'] publick Work, base as thou art?
To higgle thus, for a few blows,
To gain thy Knight an opulent Spouse?
Whose wealth his bowels yern to purchase,
Merely for th' Interest of the Churches;
And when he has it in his claws,
Will not be hide-bound to the Cause;
Nor shalt thou find him a Curmudgin,
142
If not, resolve before we go,
That you and I must pull a Crow.
Y'had best (quoth Ralpho) as the Antients
Say wisely, Have a care o'th' main chance,
And look before you ere you leap;
For, as you sow, you are like to reap.
And were y'as good as George a Green,
I shall make bold to turn agen;
Nor am I doubtful of the Issue
In a just Quarrel; and mine is so.
Is't fitting for a man of Honor,
To whip the Saints like Bishop Bonner,
A Knight t'usurp the Beadles Office,
For which y'are like to raise brave Trophies:
But I advise you (not for fear,
But for your own sake) to forbear,
And for the Churches, which may chance
From hence, to spring a variance;
And raise among themselves new Scruples,
Whom common danger hardly couples.
Remember how in Arms and Politicks,
We still have worsted all your holy Tricks,
Trappan'd your party with Intregue,
And took your Grandees down a peg,
New-modell'd th' Army, and Cashier'd
All that to Legion SMEC adher'd,
Made a mere Utensil o'your Church
And after left it in the lurch,
A Scaffold to build up our own,
And when w'had done with't, pull'd it down.
O'er-reach'd your Rabbins of the Synod
And snap'd their Cannons with a Why-not.
(Grave Synod-men that were rever'd
For solid Face and depth of Beard)
Their Classique-model prov'd a Maggot,
Their Directory an Indian Pagod.
And drown'd their Discipline like a Kitten,
On which th' had been so long a sitting;
Decry'd it as a Holy Cheat,
Grown out of Date, and Obsolete,
And all the Saints o'the first Grass,
As Casting Foles of Balams Ass.
Say wisely, Have a care o'th' main chance,
And look before you ere you leap;
For, as you sow, you are like to reap.
And were y'as good as George a Green,
I shall make bold to turn agen;
Nor am I doubtful of the Issue
In a just Quarrel; and mine is so.
Is't fitting for a man of Honor,
To whip the Saints like Bishop Bonner,
A Knight t'usurp the Beadles Office,
For which y'are like to raise brave Trophies:
But I advise you (not for fear,
But for your own sake) to forbear,
And for the Churches, which may chance
From hence, to spring a variance;
And raise among themselves new Scruples,
Whom common danger hardly couples.
Remember how in Arms and Politicks,
We still have worsted all your holy Tricks,
Trappan'd your party with Intregue,
And took your Grandees down a peg,
New-modell'd th' Army, and Cashier'd
All that to Legion SMEC adher'd,
Made a mere Utensil o'your Church
And after left it in the lurch,
A Scaffold to build up our own,
And when w'had done with't, pull'd it down.
O'er-reach'd your Rabbins of the Synod
And snap'd their Cannons with a Why-not.
(Grave Synod-men that were rever'd
For solid Face and depth of Beard)
Their Classique-model prov'd a Maggot,
Their Directory an Indian Pagod.
And drown'd their Discipline like a Kitten,
On which th' had been so long a sitting;
Decry'd it as a Holy Cheat,
143
And all the Saints o'the first Grass,
As Casting Foles of Balams Ass.
At this the Knight grew high in Chase,
And staring furiously on Ralph,
He trembl'd and lookt pale with Ire,
Like Ashes first, then Red as Fire.
Have I (quoth he) been ta'en in fight,
And for so many Moons lay'n by't;
And when all other means did fail,
Have been exchang'd for Tubs of Ale:
Not but they thought me worth a Ransom,
Much more considerable and handsom,
But for their own sakes, and for fear,
They were not safe, when I was there?
Now to be baffl'd by a Scoundrel,
An upstart Sect'ry and a Mungrel,
Such as breed out of peccant humors
Of our own Church, like Wens, and Tumors
And like a Maggot in a Sore,
Would that which gave it life, devour.
It never shall be done, nor said:
With that he seiz'd upon his Blade.
And Ralpho too, as quick, and bold,
Upon his Basket-hilt laid hold,
With equal readiness prepar'd
To draw, and stand upon his Guard.
When both were parted on the sudden,
With hideous clamour, and a loud one,
As [i]f all sorts of Noise had been
Contracted into one loud Din;
Or that some Member to be chosen,
Had got the odds above a Thousand;
And by the greatness of his noise,
Prov'd fittest for his Countreys choice.
This strange surprisal put the Knight,
And wrathful Squire into a fright;
And though they stood prepar'd, with fatal,
Impetuous rancour, to join Battel;
Both though[t] it was their wisest course,
To wave the Fight, and mount to Horse;
And to secure, by swift retreating,
Themselves from danger of worse beating.
Yet neither of them would disparage,
By utt'ring of his mind, his Courage,
Which made 'em stoutly keep their ground
With horror and disdain, wind-bound.
And now the cause of all their fear,
By slow degrees approach'd so near,
They might distinguish diff'rent noise
Of Horns, and Pans, and Dogs, and Boys,
And Kettle Drums, whose sullen Dub
Sounds like the hooping of a Tub:
But when the Sight appear'd in view,
They found it was an antique Show,
A Triumph, that for Pomp, and State,
Did proudest Romans emulate;
For as the Aldermen of Rome
For foes at Training overcome,
And not enlarging Territory,
(As some mistaken write in Story)
Being mounted in their best Aray,
Upon a Carre, and who but they?
And follow'd with a world of Tall Lads,
That merry Ditties trol'd, and Ballads;
Did ride, with many a good morrow,
Crying, hey for our Town through the Burrough:
So when this Triumph drew so nigh,
They might particulars descry,
They never saw two things so Pat,
In all respects, as this, and that.
First he that led the Cavalcate,
Wore a Sowgelder's Flagellate,
On which he blew so strong a Levet,
As well fee'd Lawyer on his Breviate.
When over one another's heads
They charge (three Ranks at once) like Suedes.
Next Pans, and Kettles of all keys,
From Trebles down to double-Base,
And after them upon a Nag,
That might pass for a forehand Stag,
A Cornet rode, and on his Staff,
A Smock display'd, did proudly wave.
Then Bagpipes of the loudest Drones,
With snuffing broken-winded tones;
Whose blasts of Air in Pockets shut,
Sound filthier than from the Gut,
And make a viler noise than Swine
In windy-weather, when they whine.
Next, one upon a pair of Panniers,
Full fraught with that, which for good manners
Shall here be nameless, mixt with Grains
Which he dispenc'd among the Swains,
And busily upon the Crowd,
At random round about bestow'd.
Then mounted on a horned Horse,
One bore a Gauntlet and Gilt-spurs,
Ty'd to the Pummel of a long Sword,
He held reverst the point turn'd downward.
Next after, on a raw-bon'd Steed,
The Conqueror's Standard-bearer rid,
And bore aloft before the Champion
A Petticoat displaid, and Rampant;
Near whom the Amazon triumphant
Bestrid her Beast, and on the Rump on't
Sate Face to Tayl, and Bum to Bum,
The Warrier whilome overcome;
Arm'd with a Spindle and a Distaff,
Which as he rode, she made him twist off;
And when he loiter'd, o'er her Shoulder,
Chastiz'd the Reformado Souldier.
Before the Dame, and round about,
March'd Whiflers, and Staffiers on foot,
With Lacquies, Grooms, Valets, and Pages,
In fit and proper equipages;
Of whom, some Torches bore, some Links,
Before the proud Virago-Minx,
That was both Madam, and a Don,
Like Nero's Sporus, or Pope Jone;
And at fit Periods the whole Rout
Set up their throats with clam'rous shout.
The Knight transported, and the Squire
Put up their Weapons, and their Ire;
And Hudibras, who us'd to ponder
On such Sights, with judicious wonder,
Could hold no longer to impart
His Animadversions, for his Heart.
And staring furiously on Ralph,
He trembl'd and lookt pale with Ire,
Like Ashes first, then Red as Fire.
Have I (quoth he) been ta'en in fight,
And for so many Moons lay'n by't;
And when all other means did fail,
Have been exchang'd for Tubs of Ale:
Not but they thought me worth a Ransom,
Much more considerable and handsom,
But for their own sakes, and for fear,
They were not safe, when I was there?
Now to be baffl'd by a Scoundrel,
An upstart Sect'ry and a Mungrel,
Such as breed out of peccant humors
Of our own Church, like Wens, and Tumors
And like a Maggot in a Sore,
Would that which gave it life, devour.
It never shall be done, nor said:
With that he seiz'd upon his Blade.
And Ralpho too, as quick, and bold,
Upon his Basket-hilt laid hold,
With equal readiness prepar'd
To draw, and stand upon his Guard.
When both were parted on the sudden,
With hideous clamour, and a loud one,
As [i]f all sorts of Noise had been
Contracted into one loud Din;
Or that some Member to be chosen,
Had got the odds above a Thousand;
And by the greatness of his noise,
Prov'd fittest for his Countreys choice.
This strange surprisal put the Knight,
And wrathful Squire into a fright;
And though they stood prepar'd, with fatal,
Impetuous rancour, to join Battel;
Both though[t] it was their wisest course,
144
And to secure, by swift retreating,
Themselves from danger of worse beating.
Yet neither of them would disparage,
By utt'ring of his mind, his Courage,
Which made 'em stoutly keep their ground
With horror and disdain, wind-bound.
And now the cause of all their fear,
By slow degrees approach'd so near,
They might distinguish diff'rent noise
Of Horns, and Pans, and Dogs, and Boys,
And Kettle Drums, whose sullen Dub
Sounds like the hooping of a Tub:
But when the Sight appear'd in view,
They found it was an antique Show,
A Triumph, that for Pomp, and State,
Did proudest Romans emulate;
For as the Aldermen of Rome
For foes at Training overcome,
And not enlarging Territory,
(As some mistaken write in Story)
Being mounted in their best Aray,
Upon a Carre, and who but they?
And follow'd with a world of Tall Lads,
That merry Ditties trol'd, and Ballads;
Did ride, with many a good morrow,
Crying, hey for our Town through the Burrough:
So when this Triumph drew so nigh,
They might particulars descry,
They never saw two things so Pat,
In all respects, as this, and that.
First he that led the Cavalcate,
Wore a Sowgelder's Flagellate,
On which he blew so strong a Levet,
As well fee'd Lawyer on his Breviate.
When over one another's heads
They charge (three Ranks at once) like Suedes.
Next Pans, and Kettles of all keys,
From Trebles down to double-Base,
And after them upon a Nag,
145
A Cornet rode, and on his Staff,
A Smock display'd, did proudly wave.
Then Bagpipes of the loudest Drones,
With snuffing broken-winded tones;
Whose blasts of Air in Pockets shut,
Sound filthier than from the Gut,
And make a viler noise than Swine
In windy-weather, when they whine.
Next, one upon a pair of Panniers,
Full fraught with that, which for good manners
Shall here be nameless, mixt with Grains
Which he dispenc'd among the Swains,
And busily upon the Crowd,
At random round about bestow'd.
Then mounted on a horned Horse,
One bore a Gauntlet and Gilt-spurs,
Ty'd to the Pummel of a long Sword,
He held reverst the point turn'd downward.
Next after, on a raw-bon'd Steed,
The Conqueror's Standard-bearer rid,
And bore aloft before the Champion
A Petticoat displaid, and Rampant;
Near whom the Amazon triumphant
Bestrid her Beast, and on the Rump on't
Sate Face to Tayl, and Bum to Bum,
The Warrier whilome overcome;
Arm'd with a Spindle and a Distaff,
Which as he rode, she made him twist off;
And when he loiter'd, o'er her Shoulder,
Chastiz'd the Reformado Souldier.
Before the Dame, and round about,
March'd Whiflers, and Staffiers on foot,
With Lacquies, Grooms, Valets, and Pages,
In fit and proper equipages;
Of whom, some Torches bore, some Links,
Before the proud Virago-Minx,
That was both Madam, and a Don,
Like Nero's Sporus, or Pope Jone;
And at fit Periods the whole Rout
146
The Knight transported, and the Squire
Put up their Weapons, and their Ire;
And Hudibras, who us'd to ponder
On such Sights, with judicious wonder,
Could hold no longer to impart
His Animadversions, for his Heart.
Quoth he, In all my life till now,
I ne'er saw so prophane a Show.
It is a Paganish invention,
Which Heathen Writers often mention:
And he, who made it, had read Goodwin
(I warrant him) and understood him:
With all the Grecians Speeds and Stows:
That best describe those Antient Shows,
And has observ'd all fit Decorums,
We find describ'd by old Historians.
For as a Roman Conqueror,
That put an end to forrain War,
Ent'ring the Town in Triumph for it,
Bore a Slave with him, in his Chariot:
So this insulting Female Brave,
Carries behind her here, a Slave,
And as the Ancients long ago,
When they in field defy'd the foe,
Hung out their Mantles della Guer;
So her proud Standard-bearer here,
Waves, on his Spear, in dreadful manner,
A Tyrian-Pet[t]icoat for a Banner:
Next Links, and Torches, heretofore
Still born before the Emperor:
And as in Antique Triumphs, Eggs
Were born for mystical intregues;
There's one in Truncheon, like a Ladle,
That carries Eggs too, fresh or adle;
And still at random, as he goes,
Among the Rabble-rout bestows.
I ne'er saw so prophane a Show.
It is a Paganish invention,
Which Heathen Writers often mention:
And he, who made it, had read Goodwin
(I warrant him) and understood him:
With all the Grecians Speeds and Stows:
That best describe those Antient Shows,
And has observ'd all fit Decorums,
We find describ'd by old Historians.
For as a Roman Conqueror,
That put an end to forrain War,
Ent'ring the Town in Triumph for it,
Bore a Slave with him, in his Chariot:
So this insulting Female Brave,
Carries behind her here, a Slave,
And as the Ancients long ago,
When they in field defy'd the foe,
Hung out their Mantles della Guer;
So her proud Standard-bearer here,
Waves, on his Spear, in dreadful manner,
A Tyrian-Pet[t]icoat for a Banner:
Next Links, and Torches, heretofore
Still born before the Emperor:
And as in Antique Triumphs, Eggs
Were born for mystical intregues;
There's one in Truncheon, like a Ladle,
That carries Eggs too, fresh or adle;
And still at random, as he goes,
Among the Rabble-rout bestows.
Quoth Ralpho, You mistake the matter;
For, all th' Antiquity you smatter,
Is but a Riding, us'd of course,
When the Grey Mares the better Horse.
When o'er the Breeches greedy Women,
Fight, to extend their vast Dominion,
And in the cause impatient Grizel
Has drubb'd her Husband with Bulls Pizle,
And brought him under Covert-Baron,
To turn her Vassail with a Murrain;
When Wives their Sexes shift, like Hares,
And ride their Husbands, like Night-Mares,
And they in mortal Battle vanquish'd,
Are of their Charter dis-enfranchis'd,
And by the right of War, like Gils,
Condemn'd to Distaff, Horns, and Wheels;
For when men by their Wives are Cow'd,
Their Horns of course are understood.
For, all th' Antiquity you smatter,
Is but a Riding, us'd of course,
147
When o'er the Breeches greedy Women,
Fight, to extend their vast Dominion,
And in the cause impatient Grizel
Has drubb'd her Husband with Bulls Pizle,
And brought him under Covert-Baron,
To turn her Vassail with a Murrain;
When Wives their Sexes shift, like Hares,
And ride their Husbands, like Night-Mares,
And they in mortal Battle vanquish'd,
Are of their Charter dis-enfranchis'd,
And by the right of War, like Gils,
Condemn'd to Distaff, Horns, and Wheels;
For when men by their Wives are Cow'd,
Their Horns of course are understood.
Quoth Hudibras, Thou still giv'st sentence
Impertinently, and against sense.
'Tis not the least disparagement,
To be defeated by th' event:
No[r] to be beaten by main force,
That does not make a man the worse,
Although his shoulders, with Batoon,
Be claw'd and cudgell'd to some tune;
A Taylers Prentice has no hard
Measure, that's bang'd with a true yard:
But to turn Tail, or run away,
And without blows give up the Day;
Or to surrender ere the Assault,
That's no man's fortune, but his fault:
And renders men of Honor less
Than all th' Adversity of Success,
And only unto such this Shew
Of Horns, and Petticoats, is due.
There is a lesser Profanation,
Like that the Romans call'd Ovation,
For as Ovation was allow'd
For Conquest, purchas'd without blood,
So men decree those lesser Shows,
For Vict'ry gotten without blows.
By dint of sharp hard words, which some
Give Battle with, and overcome;
These mounted in a Chair Curule,
Which Moderns call a Cucking-stool,
March proudly to the River's side,
And o'er the Waves in Triumph ride.
Like Dukes of Venice, who are sed
The Adriatique Sea to wed,
And have a gentler Wife, than those,
For whom the State decrees those Shows.
But both are Heathenish and come
From th' Whores of Babylon and Rome,
And by the Saints should be withstood,
As Antichristian and Lewd,
And we, as such, should now contribute
Our utmost struglings to prohibite.
Impertinently, and against sense.
'Tis not the least disparagement,
To be defeated by th' event:
No[r] to be beaten by main force,
That does not make a man the worse,
Although his shoulders, with Batoon,
Be claw'd and cudgell'd to some tune;
A Taylers Prentice has no hard
Measure, that's bang'd with a true yard:
But to turn Tail, or run away,
And without blows give up the Day;
Or to surrender ere the Assault,
That's no man's fortune, but his fault:
And renders men of Honor less
Than all th' Adversity of Success,
And only unto such this Shew
Of Horns, and Petticoats, is due.
There is a lesser Profanation,
Like that the Romans call'd Ovation,
For as Ovation was allow'd
For Conquest, purchas'd without blood,
So men decree those lesser Shows,
For Vict'ry gotten without blows.
By dint of sharp hard words, which some
148
These mounted in a Chair Curule,
Which Moderns call a Cucking-stool,
March proudly to the River's side,
And o'er the Waves in Triumph ride.
Like Dukes of Venice, who are sed
The Adriatique Sea to wed,
And have a gentler Wife, than those,
For whom the State decrees those Shows.
But both are Heathenish and come
From th' Whores of Babylon and Rome,
And by the Saints should be withstood,
As Antichristian and Lewd,
And we, as such, should now contribute
Our utmost struglings to prohibite.
This said, they both advanc'd, and rod,
A Dog-trot through the bawling Crowd,
T'attack the Leader, and still prest,
Till they approach'd him breast to breast.
Then Hudibras, with face and hand,
Made signs for Silence, which obtain'd:
What means (quoth he) this dev'ls Procession
With men of Orthodox profession?
'Tis Ethnique and Idolatrous,
From Heathenism deriv'd to us.
Does not the Whore of Babylon ride
Upon her Horned Beast astride,
Like this proud Dame, who either is
A Type of her, or she of this?
Are things of Superstitious function,
Fit to be us'd in Gospel Sunshine?
It is an Antichristian Opera,
Much us'd in midnight times of Popery;
A running after self-inventions
Of wicked and profane Intentions;
To scandalize that Sex, for scolding,
To whom the Saints are so beholding,
Women, who were our first Apostles,
Without whose aid w'had all been lost else;
Women, that left no stone unturn'd,
In which the Cause might be concern'd:
Brought in their Childrens Spoons and Whistles,
To purchase Swords, Carbines, and Pistols:
Their Husbands, Cullies, and Sweet-hearts,
To take the Saints and Churches parts;
Drew several gifted Brethren in,
That for the Bishops would have been,
And fix'd them constant to the Party,
With motives pow'rful and hearty:
Their Husbands rob'd, and made hard shifts
T'administer unto their Guifts;
All they could rap, and run and pilfer,
To scraps, and ends of Gold and Silver;
Rub'd down the Teachers, tir'd and spent,
With holding forth for Parliament;
Pamper'd and edifi'd their Zeal
With Marrow-puddings many a Meal;
Enabled them, with store of meat,
On controverted Points to eat;
And cram'd them till their guts did ake,
With Cawdle, Custard, and Plum-cake.
What have they done, or what left undone,
That might advance the Cause at London?
March'd rank and file, with Drum and Ensign,
T'entrench the City, for defence, in;
Rais'd Rampiers with their own soft hands,
To put the Enemy to stands;
From Ladies down to Oyster-wenches,
Labour'd like Pioneers in Trenches,
Fell to their Pick-axes and Tools,
And help'd the men to dig like Moles?
Have not the Handmaids of the City,
Chosen o'their Members a Committee?
For raising of a Common-Purse,
Out of their Wages, to raise Horse?
And do they not as Triers sit,
To judge what Officers are fit?
Have they ------? At [that] an Egg, let fly,
Hit him directly o'er the eye,
And running down his Cheek, besmear'd,
With Orange-tawny-slime, his Beard:
But Beard, and slime being of one Hue,
The wound the less appear'd in view.
Then he that on the Panniers rode,
Let fly o'th' other side a load;
And quickly charg'd again, gave fully
In Ralpho's face, another Volley.
The Knight was startl'd with the smell,
And for his sword began to feel:
And Ralpho smother'd with the stink,
Grasp'd his: when one that bore a Link,
O'th' sudden, clap'd his flaming Cudgel,
Like Linstock, to the Horse's touch-hole;
And streight another with his Flambeaux,
Gave Ralpho's, o'er the eyes, a damn'd blow.
The Beasts began to kick, and fling,
And forc'd the Rout to make a Ring.
Through which they quickly broke their way,
And brought them off from further fray;
And though disorder'd in Retreat,
Each of them stoutly kept his seat:
For quitting both their Swords and Rains,
They grasp'd with all their strength the manes;
And to avoid the foes pursuit,
With spurring put their Cattle to't,
And till all four were out of wind,
And danger too, ne'r lookt behind.
After th' had paus'd a while, supplying
Their spirits spent with fight and flying,
And Hudibras recruited force,
Of Lungs, for action or discourse:
A Dog-trot through the bawling Crowd,
T'attack the Leader, and still prest,
Till they approach'd him breast to breast.
Then Hudibras, with face and hand,
Made signs for Silence, which obtain'd:
What means (quoth he) this dev'ls Procession
With men of Orthodox profession?
'Tis Ethnique and Idolatrous,
From Heathenism deriv'd to us.
Does not the Whore of Babylon ride
Upon her Horned Beast astride,
Like this proud Dame, who either is
A Type of her, or she of this?
Are things of Superstitious function,
Fit to be us'd in Gospel Sunshine?
It is an Antichristian Opera,
Much us'd in midnight times of Popery;
A running after self-inventions
Of wicked and profane Intentions;
To scandalize that Sex, for scolding,
To whom the Saints are so beholding,
Women, who were our first Apostles,
Without whose aid w'had all been lost else;
Women, that left no stone unturn'd,
149
Brought in their Childrens Spoons and Whistles,
To purchase Swords, Carbines, and Pistols:
Their Husbands, Cullies, and Sweet-hearts,
To take the Saints and Churches parts;
Drew several gifted Brethren in,
That for the Bishops would have been,
And fix'd them constant to the Party,
With motives pow'rful and hearty:
Their Husbands rob'd, and made hard shifts
T'administer unto their Guifts;
All they could rap, and run and pilfer,
To scraps, and ends of Gold and Silver;
Rub'd down the Teachers, tir'd and spent,
With holding forth for Parliament;
Pamper'd and edifi'd their Zeal
With Marrow-puddings many a Meal;
Enabled them, with store of meat,
On controverted Points to eat;
And cram'd them till their guts did ake,
With Cawdle, Custard, and Plum-cake.
What have they done, or what left undone,
That might advance the Cause at London?
March'd rank and file, with Drum and Ensign,
T'entrench the City, for defence, in;
Rais'd Rampiers with their own soft hands,
To put the Enemy to stands;
From Ladies down to Oyster-wenches,
Labour'd like Pioneers in Trenches,
Fell to their Pick-axes and Tools,
And help'd the men to dig like Moles?
Have not the Handmaids of the City,
Chosen o'their Members a Committee?
For raising of a Common-Purse,
Out of their Wages, to raise Horse?
And do they not as Triers sit,
To judge what Officers are fit?
Have they ------? At [that] an Egg, let fly,
Hit him directly o'er the eye,
And running down his Cheek, besmear'd,
150
But Beard, and slime being of one Hue,
The wound the less appear'd in view.
Then he that on the Panniers rode,
Let fly o'th' other side a load;
And quickly charg'd again, gave fully
In Ralpho's face, another Volley.
The Knight was startl'd with the smell,
And for his sword began to feel:
And Ralpho smother'd with the stink,
Grasp'd his: when one that bore a Link,
O'th' sudden, clap'd his flaming Cudgel,
Like Linstock, to the Horse's touch-hole;
And streight another with his Flambeaux,
Gave Ralpho's, o'er the eyes, a damn'd blow.
The Beasts began to kick, and fling,
And forc'd the Rout to make a Ring.
Through which they quickly broke their way,
And brought them off from further fray;
And though disorder'd in Retreat,
Each of them stoutly kept his seat:
For quitting both their Swords and Rains,
They grasp'd with all their strength the manes;
And to avoid the foes pursuit,
With spurring put their Cattle to't,
And till all four were out of wind,
And danger too, ne'r lookt behind.
After th' had paus'd a while, supplying
Their spirits spent with fight and flying,
And Hudibras recruited force,
Of Lungs, for action or discourse:
Quoth he, that man is sure to lose,
That fouls his hands with durty foes:
For where no honor's to be gain'd,
'Tis thrown away in being maintain'd,
'Twas ill for us, we had to do
With so dishonorable a Foe:
For though the Law of Arms does bar
The use of venom'd shot in War,
Yet by the nauseous smell, and noisom,
Their Case-shot savours strong of poison;
And doubtless have been chew'd with teeth
Of some that had a stinking breath:
Else when we put it to the push,
They had not giv'n us such a brush.
But as those Pultroons that fling durt,
Do but defile, but cannot hurt;
So all the Honor they have won,
Or we have lost, is much at one.
'Twas well we made so resolute
A brave Retreat, without pursuit;
For if we had not, we had sped
Much worse, to be in Triumph led;
Than which, the Ancients held no state,
Of Man's life more unfortunate.
But if this bold Adventure e'er
Do chance to reach the Widows ear,
It may, b'ing destin'd to assert
Her Sex's Honor, reach her heart,
And as such homely Treats (they say)
Portend good fortune, so this may.
Vespasian being dawb'd with durt,
Was destin'd to the Empire for't:
And from a Scavinger did come
To be a mighty Prince in Rome:
And why may not this foul Address
Presage in Love the same success?
Then let us streight to cleanse our wounds,
Advance in quest of nearest Ponds;
And after (as we first design'd)
Swear I've perform'd what she enjoin'd.
That fouls his hands with durty foes:
For where no honor's to be gain'd,
'Tis thrown away in being maintain'd,
'Twas ill for us, we had to do
With so dishonorable a Foe:
For though the Law of Arms does bar
The use of venom'd shot in War,
Yet by the nauseous smell, and noisom,
151
And doubtless have been chew'd with teeth
Of some that had a stinking breath:
Else when we put it to the push,
They had not giv'n us such a brush.
But as those Pultroons that fling durt,
Do but defile, but cannot hurt;
So all the Honor they have won,
Or we have lost, is much at one.
'Twas well we made so resolute
A brave Retreat, without pursuit;
For if we had not, we had sped
Much worse, to be in Triumph led;
Than which, the Ancients held no state,
Of Man's life more unfortunate.
But if this bold Adventure e'er
Do chance to reach the Widows ear,
It may, b'ing destin'd to assert
Her Sex's Honor, reach her heart,
And as such homely Treats (they say)
Portend good fortune, so this may.
Vespasian being dawb'd with durt,
Was destin'd to the Empire for't:
And from a Scavinger did come
To be a mighty Prince in Rome:
And why may not this foul Address
Presage in Love the same success?
Then let us streight to cleanse our wounds,
Advance in quest of nearest Ponds;
And after (as we first design'd)
Swear I've perform'd what she enjoin'd.
| Samuel Butler: Hudibras | |