Samuel Butler: Hudibras Written in the time of the late wars: The text edited by A. R. Waller |
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THE LADY'S ANSWER TO THE KNIGHT. |
 | Samuel Butler: Hudibras |  |
314
THE LADY'S ANSWER TO THE KNIGHT.
That you'r a Beast, and turn'd to Grass,
Is no strange News, nor ever was;
At least, to me, who once, you know,
Did from the Pound, Replevin you.
When both your Sword, and Spurs, were won
In Combat, by an Amazon;
That Sword, that did (like Fate) determine
Th'Inevitable Death of Vermine:
And never dealt its furious blows,
But cut the Threds of Pigs and Cows;
By Trulla was, in single Fight,
Disarm'd and wrested from its Knight.
Your Heels Degraded of your Spurs,
And in the Stocks, close Prisoners.
Where still th'had Layn in base Restraint,
If I, in pity of your Complaint,
Had not on Honourable Conditions,
Releast 'em from the worst of Prisons;
And what Return that favour met,
You cannot (though you would) forget;
When being free, you strove t'evade
The Oaths you had in Prison made:
Forswore your self, and first deny'd it;
But after own'd, and justify'd it:
And when y'had falsely broke one Vow,
Absolv'd your self by breaking two.
For while you sneakingly submit,
And beg for Pardon at our Feet:
Discourag'd by your guilty Fears,
To hope for Quarter, for your Ears.
And doubting 'twas in vain to sue,
You claim us boldly as your due.
Declare that Treachery and Force
To deal with us is th'only Course.
Who have no Title nor Pretence,
To Body, Soul or Conscience:
But ought to fall to that Man's share,
That claims us for his proper Ware.
These are the Motives, which t'induce,
Or fright us into Love, you use,
A pretty new way of Gallanting,
Between Soliciting and Ranting;
Like sturdy Beggars, that intreat
For Charity at once, and threat.
But since you undertake to prove
Your own Propriety in Love,
As if we were but Lawful Prize
In War, between two Enemies;
Or Forfeitures, which ev'ry Lover
That would but sue for, might recover,
It is not hard to understand
The Myst'ry of this Bold Demand:
That cannot at our Persons aim,
But something capable of Claim.
Is no strange News, nor ever was;
At least, to me, who once, you know,
Did from the Pound, Replevin you.
When both your Sword, and Spurs, were won
In Combat, by an Amazon;
That Sword, that did (like Fate) determine
Th'Inevitable Death of Vermine:
And never dealt its furious blows,
But cut the Threds of Pigs and Cows;
By Trulla was, in single Fight,
Disarm'd and wrested from its Knight.
Your Heels Degraded of your Spurs,
And in the Stocks, close Prisoners.
Where still th'had Layn in base Restraint,
If I, in pity of your Complaint,
Had not on Honourable Conditions,
Releast 'em from the worst of Prisons;
And what Return that favour met,
You cannot (though you would) forget;
When being free, you strove t'evade
The Oaths you had in Prison made:
Forswore your self, and first deny'd it;
But after own'd, and justify'd it:
And when y'had falsely broke one Vow,
Absolv'd your self by breaking two.
For while you sneakingly submit,
And beg for Pardon at our Feet:
315
To hope for Quarter, for your Ears.
And doubting 'twas in vain to sue,
You claim us boldly as your due.
Declare that Treachery and Force
To deal with us is th'only Course.
Who have no Title nor Pretence,
To Body, Soul or Conscience:
But ought to fall to that Man's share,
That claims us for his proper Ware.
These are the Motives, which t'induce,
Or fright us into Love, you use,
A pretty new way of Gallanting,
Between Soliciting and Ranting;
Like sturdy Beggars, that intreat
For Charity at once, and threat.
But since you undertake to prove
Your own Propriety in Love,
As if we were but Lawful Prize
In War, between two Enemies;
Or Forfeitures, which ev'ry Lover
That would but sue for, might recover,
It is not hard to understand
The Myst'ry of this Bold Demand:
That cannot at our Persons aim,
But something capable of Claim.
'Tis not those paultry counterfeit
French Stones, which in our Eyes you set:
But our Right Diamonds, that inspire,
And set your Amorous Hearts on fire.
Nor can those false St. Martins Beads,
Which on our Lips you lay for Reds;
And make us wear, like Indian Dames,
Add Fewel to your Scorching Flames.
But those true Rubies of the Rock,
Which, in our Cabinets we lock.
French Stones, which in our Eyes you set:
But our Right Diamonds, that inspire,
And set your Amorous Hearts on fire.
Nor can those false St. Martins Beads,
Which on our Lips you lay for Reds;
And make us wear, like Indian Dames,
Add Fewel to your Scorching Flames.
But those true Rubies of the Rock,
Which, in our Cabinets we lock.
'Tis not those Orient Pearls, our Teeth,
That you are so transported with:
But those we wear about our Necks,
Produce those Amorous Effects.
Nor is't those Threads of Gold, our Hair,
The Perewigs you make us wear:
But those bright Guinneys in our Chests,
That light the Wild Fire in your Breasts.
These Love-tricks I've been vers'd in so,
That all their sly Intrigues I know.
And can unriddle, by their Tones,
Their Mystick Cabals, and Jargones.
Can tell what Passions, by their Sounds,
Pine for the Beauties of my Grounds:
What Raptures fond, and Amorous
O'th' Charms and Graces of my House.
What Exstacy, and Scorching Flame
Burns for my Mony, in my Name.
What from th'unnatural desire
To Beasts and Cattel, take[s] its fire.
What tender Sigh, and trickling Tear,
Longs for a thousand Pound a Year.
And Languishing Transports are fond
Of Statute, Mortgage, Bill and Bond.
That you are so transported with:
But those we wear about our Necks,
Produce those Amorous Effects.
316
The Perewigs you make us wear:
But those bright Guinneys in our Chests,
That light the Wild Fire in your Breasts.
These Love-tricks I've been vers'd in so,
That all their sly Intrigues I know.
And can unriddle, by their Tones,
Their Mystick Cabals, and Jargones.
Can tell what Passions, by their Sounds,
Pine for the Beauties of my Grounds:
What Raptures fond, and Amorous
O'th' Charms and Graces of my House.
What Exstacy, and Scorching Flame
Burns for my Mony, in my Name.
What from th'unnatural desire
To Beasts and Cattel, take[s] its fire.
What tender Sigh, and trickling Tear,
Longs for a thousand Pound a Year.
And Languishing Transports are fond
Of Statute, Mortgage, Bill and Bond.
These are th'Attracts which most Men fall
Inamour'd, at first sight, withal.
To these th'address with Serenades,
And Court with Balls and Masquerades;
And yet, for all the yearning Pain
Y'have suffer'd for their Loves, in vain:
I fear they'l prove so nice and coy,
To have and t'hold, and to enjoy;
That all your Oaths, and Labour lost,
They'l ne'er turn Ladies of the Post.
This is not meant to disapprove
Your Judgment in your Choice of Love;
Which is so wise, the greatest part
Of Mankind study't as an Art.
For Love should, like a Deodand,
Still fall to th'owner of the Land:
And where there's Substance, for its Ground
Cannot but be more firm, and sound,
Than that which has the slighter Basis
Of Airy Vertue, Wit and Graces:
Which is of such thin Subtilty,
It steals and creeps in at the Eye.
And, as it can't endure to stay,
Steals out again as nice a way.
Inamour'd, at first sight, withal.
To these th'address with Serenades,
And Court with Balls and Masquerades;
And yet, for all the yearning Pain
Y'have suffer'd for their Loves, in vain:
I fear they'l prove so nice and coy,
To have and t'hold, and to enjoy;
That all your Oaths, and Labour lost,
They'l ne'er turn Ladies of the Post.
This is not meant to disapprove
Your Judgment in your Choice of Love;
Which is so wise, the greatest part
Of Mankind study't as an Art.
For Love should, like a Deodand,
Still fall to th'owner of the Land:
And where there's Substance, for its Ground
Cannot but be more firm, and sound,
Than that which has the slighter Basis
Of Airy Vertue, Wit and Graces:
317
It steals and creeps in at the Eye.
And, as it can't endure to stay,
Steals out again as nice a way.
But Love, that its Extraction owns
From solid Gold, and precious Stones;
Must, like its shining Parents prove
As Solid, and as Glorious Love.
Hence 'tis, you have no way t'express
Our Charms and Graces, but by these:
For, what are Lips, and Eyes, and Teeth,
Which Beauty invades, a[n]d conquers with?
But Rubies, Pearls and Diamonds;
With which a Philter Love commands?
From solid Gold, and precious Stones;
Must, like its shining Parents prove
As Solid, and as Glorious Love.
Hence 'tis, you have no way t'express
Our Charms and Graces, but by these:
For, what are Lips, and Eyes, and Teeth,
Which Beauty invades, a[n]d conquers with?
But Rubies, Pearls and Diamonds;
With which a Philter Love commands?
This is the way all Parents prove,
In imagining their Children's Love;
That force 'em t'inter-marry and wed,
As if th'were Bur'ing of the Dead.
Cast Earth to Earth, as in the Grave,
To joyn in Wedlock all they have.
And when the Settlement's in force,
Take all the rest, For Better, or Worse;
For Money has a Power above
The Stars and Fate, to manage Love:
Whose Arrows, Learned Poets hold,
That never miss, are tipp'd with Gold.
And though some say, the Parents claims
To make Love in their Children's Names.
Who, many times, at once, provide
The Nurse, the Husband, and the Bride.
Feel Darts and Charms, Attracts and Flames;
And woo, and contract, in their Names.
And as they Christen, use to marry 'em,
And, like their Gossips, answer for 'em:
Is not to give in Matrimony;
B[u]t sell and prostitute for Mony.
'Tis better than their own Betrothing;
Who often do't for worse than nothing.
And when th'are at their own Dispose,
With greater disadvantage chuse.
All this is right! But for the Course
You take to do't, by Fraud, or Force:
'Tis so ridiculous, as soon
As told, 'tis never to be done.
No more than Setters can betray,
That tell what Tricks they are to play.
Marriage, at best, is but a Vow;
Which all Men either break, or bow:
Then what will those forbear to do,
Who perjure, when they do but woo?
Such as, beforehand, swear and lye,
For Earnest to their Treachery:
And, rather than a Crime confess,
With greater, strive to make it less.
Like Thieves, who, after Sentence past,
Maintain their Innocence to the last.
And when their Crimes were made appear
As plain as Witnesses can swear.
Yet, when the Wretches come to dye,
Will take upon their Deaths a Lye.
Nor are the Vertues, you confest
T'your Ghostly Father, as you guest,
So slight, as to be justifi'd,
By being, as shamefully, deny'd.
As if you thought your Word would pass
Point-blank, on both sides, of a Case,
Or Credit were not to be lost,
B'a Brave Knight Errant of the Post.
That eats, perfidiously, his Word,
And swears his Ears through a two Inch Board:
Can own the same thing, and disown;
And perjure Booty, Pro and Con.
Can make the Gospel serve his turn,
And help him out to be forsworn;
When 'tis laid hands upon, and kiss'd,
To be betray'd, and sold, like Christ.
In imagining their Children's Love;
That force 'em t'inter-marry and wed,
As if th'were Bur'ing of the Dead.
Cast Earth to Earth, as in the Grave,
To joyn in Wedlock all they have.
And when the Settlement's in force,
Take all the rest, For Better, or Worse;
For Money has a Power above
The Stars and Fate, to manage Love:
Whose Arrows, Learned Poets hold,
That never miss, are tipp'd with Gold.
And though some say, the Parents claims
To make Love in their Children's Names.
Who, many times, at once, provide
The Nurse, the Husband, and the Bride.
Feel Darts and Charms, Attracts and Flames;
And woo, and contract, in their Names.
And as they Christen, use to marry 'em,
And, like their Gossips, answer for 'em:
Is not to give in Matrimony;
B[u]t sell and prostitute for Mony.
'Tis better than their own Betrothing;
Who often do't for worse than nothing.
And when th'are at their own Dispose,
With greater disadvantage chuse.
318
You take to do't, by Fraud, or Force:
'Tis so ridiculous, as soon
As told, 'tis never to be done.
No more than Setters can betray,
That tell what Tricks they are to play.
Marriage, at best, is but a Vow;
Which all Men either break, or bow:
Then what will those forbear to do,
Who perjure, when they do but woo?
Such as, beforehand, swear and lye,
For Earnest to their Treachery:
And, rather than a Crime confess,
With greater, strive to make it less.
Like Thieves, who, after Sentence past,
Maintain their Innocence to the last.
And when their Crimes were made appear
As plain as Witnesses can swear.
Yet, when the Wretches come to dye,
Will take upon their Deaths a Lye.
Nor are the Vertues, you confest
T'your Ghostly Father, as you guest,
So slight, as to be justifi'd,
By being, as shamefully, deny'd.
As if you thought your Word would pass
Point-blank, on both sides, of a Case,
Or Credit were not to be lost,
B'a Brave Knight Errant of the Post.
That eats, perfidiously, his Word,
And swears his Ears through a two Inch Board:
Can own the same thing, and disown;
And perjure Booty, Pro and Con.
Can make the Gospel serve his turn,
And help him out to be forsworn;
When 'tis laid hands upon, and kiss'd,
To be betray'd, and sold, like Christ.
These are the Vertues, in whose Name,
A Right to all the World you claim:
And boldly challenge a Dominion,
In Grace and Nature, o'er all Women.
Of whom, no less will satisfie,
Than all the Sex, your Tyranny.
Although you'll find it a hard Province,
With all your crafty Frauds and Covins,
To govern such a numerous Crew,
Who, one by one, now govern you:
For if you all were Solomons,
And Wise and Great as he was once,
You'll find Th'are able to subdue,
(As they did him) and baffle you.
A Right to all the World you claim:
And boldly challenge a Dominion,
In Grace and Nature, o'er all Women.
319
Than all the Sex, your Tyranny.
Although you'll find it a hard Province,
With all your crafty Frauds and Covins,
To govern such a numerous Crew,
Who, one by one, now govern you:
For if you all were Solomons,
And Wise and Great as he was once,
You'll find Th'are able to subdue,
(As they did him) and baffle you.
And if you are impos'd upon,
'Tis by your own Temptation done:
That with your Ignorance invite,
And teach us how to use the slight.
For, when we find y'are still more taken
With false Attracts of our own making;
Swear that's a Rose, and that a Stone,
Like Sots to us that laid it on:
And what we did but slightly prime,
Most ignorantly daub in Rhime:
You force us in our own Defences,
To copy Beams and Influences;
To lay Perfections on the Graces,
And draw Attracts upon our Faces:
And, in compliance to your Wit,
Your own false Jewels counterfeit.
For, by the practice of those Arts,
We gain a greater share of Hearts:
And those deserve in reason most,
That greatest pains and study cost;
For, great Perfections are like Heav'n,
Too rich a Present to be given.
Nor are those Master-strokes of Beauty
To be perform'd without hard Duty.
Which, when th'are nobly done, and well,
The simple Natural excel.
'Tis by your own Temptation done:
That with your Ignorance invite,
And teach us how to use the slight.
For, when we find y'are still more taken
With false Attracts of our own making;
Swear that's a Rose, and that a Stone,
Like Sots to us that laid it on:
And what we did but slightly prime,
Most ignorantly daub in Rhime:
You force us in our own Defences,
To copy Beams and Influences;
To lay Perfections on the Graces,
And draw Attracts upon our Faces:
And, in compliance to your Wit,
Your own false Jewels counterfeit.
For, by the practice of those Arts,
We gain a greater share of Hearts:
And those deserve in reason most,
That greatest pains and study cost;
For, great Perfections are like Heav'n,
Too rich a Present to be given.
Nor are those Master-strokes of Beauty
To be perform'd without hard Duty.
Which, when th'are nobly done, and well,
The simple Natural excel.
How fair and sweet the Planted Rose,
Beyond the Wild in Hedges grows?
For, without Art, the Noblest Seeds
Of Flow'rs degenerate to Weeds:
How dull and rugged e'er 'tis Ground,
And Polish'd, looks a Diamond?
Though Paradise was e'er so fair,
It was not kept so without Care.
The whole World, without Art and Dress,
Would be but one great Wilderness.
And Mankind but a Savage Heard,
For all that Nature has conferr'd.
This does but Rough-hew, and Design,
Leave Art to Polish, and Refine.
Beyond the Wild in Hedges grows?
For, without Art, the Noblest Seeds
Of Flow'rs degenerate to Weeds:
320
And Polish'd, looks a Diamond?
Though Paradise was e'er so fair,
It was not kept so without Care.
The whole World, without Art and Dress,
Would be but one great Wilderness.
And Mankind but a Savage Heard,
For all that Nature has conferr'd.
This does but Rough-hew, and Design,
Leave Art to Polish, and Refine.
Though Women first were made for Men,
Yet Men were made for them agen:
For when (out-witted by his Wife),
Man first turn'd Tenant, but, for Life,
If Women had not interven'd,
How soon had Mankind had an end?
And that it is in Being yet,
To us alone, you are in Debt.
Then where's your liberty of Choice,
And our unnatural No-voice?
Since all the Privilege you boast,
And falsly usurp'd, or vainly lost,
Is now our Right; to whose Creation,
You owe your Happy Restoration.
And if we had not weighty Cause
To not appear in making Laws,
We could, in spight of all your Tricks,
And Shallow, Formal Politicks;
Force you, our Managements t'obey,
As we to yours (in shew) give way.
Hence 'tis, that while you vainly strive
T'advance your high Prerogative,
You basely, after all your Braves,
Submit, and own your selves our Slaves.
And 'cause we do not make it known,
Nor publickly our Int'rests own;
Like Sots, suppose we have no shares
In ord'ring you, and your Affairs:
When all your Empire and Command
You have from us at Second Hand.
As if a Pilot, that appears
To sit still only, while he steers:
And does not make a noise and stir,
Like every common Mariner:
Knew nothing of the Card, nor Star;
And did not guide the Man of War.
Nor we, because we don't appear
In Councils, do not govern there.
While like the Mighty Prester John,
Whose Person none dares look upon;
But is preserv'd in Close Disguise
From being made cheap to vulgar Eyes.
W'enjoy as large a Pow'r unseen,
To govern him, as he does Men:
And, in the Right of our Pope Joan,
Make Emp'rors at our feet fall down.
Or Joan the Pucel's braver Name,
Our Right to Arms and Conduct claim.
Who, though a Spinster, yet was able,
To serve France for a Grand Constable.
Yet Men were made for them agen:
For when (out-witted by his Wife),
Man first turn'd Tenant, but, for Life,
If Women had not interven'd,
How soon had Mankind had an end?
And that it is in Being yet,
To us alone, you are in Debt.
Then where's your liberty of Choice,
And our unnatural No-voice?
Since all the Privilege you boast,
And falsly usurp'd, or vainly lost,
Is now our Right; to whose Creation,
You owe your Happy Restoration.
And if we had not weighty Cause
To not appear in making Laws,
We could, in spight of all your Tricks,
And Shallow, Formal Politicks;
Force you, our Managements t'obey,
As we to yours (in shew) give way.
Hence 'tis, that while you vainly strive
T'advance your high Prerogative,
You basely, after all your Braves,
Submit, and own your selves our Slaves.
And 'cause we do not make it known,
Nor publickly our Int'rests own;
Like Sots, suppose we have no shares
In ord'ring you, and your Affairs:
When all your Empire and Command
You have from us at Second Hand.
321
To sit still only, while he steers:
And does not make a noise and stir,
Like every common Mariner:
Knew nothing of the Card, nor Star;
And did not guide the Man of War.
Nor we, because we don't appear
In Councils, do not govern there.
While like the Mighty Prester John,
Whose Person none dares look upon;
But is preserv'd in Close Disguise
From being made cheap to vulgar Eyes.
W'enjoy as large a Pow'r unseen,
To govern him, as he does Men:
And, in the Right of our Pope Joan,
Make Emp'rors at our feet fall down.
Or Joan the Pucel's braver Name,
Our Right to Arms and Conduct claim.
Who, though a Spinster, yet was able,
To serve France for a Grand Constable.
We make and execute all Laws;
Can judge the Judges, and the Cause.
Prescribe all Rules of Right or Wrong,
To th'Long Robe, and the Longer Tongue:
'Gainst which the World has no Defence,
But our more pow'rful Eloquence.
We manage things of greatest weight
In all the World's Affairs of State.
Are Ministers of War and Peace,
That sway all Nations how they please.
We rule all Churches, and their Flocks,
Heretical, and Orthodox.
And are the Heavenly Vehicles
O'th' Spirit, in all Conventicles.
By us is all Commerce and Trade
Improv'd, and Manag'd, and Decay'd.
For, nothing can go off so well,
Nor bears that Price, as what we sell.
We rule in ev'ry Publick Meeting,
And make Men do what we judge fitting.
Are Magistrates in all great Towns;
Where Men do nothing, but wear Gowns.
We make the Man of War strike Sail,
And to our braver Conduct vail.
And, when h'has chac'd his Enemies,
Submit to us upon his Knees.
Is there an Officer of State,
Untimely rais'd; or Magistrate,
That's Haughty, and Imperious?
He's but a Journy-man to us.
That, as he gives us cause to do't,
Can keep him in, or turn him out.
Can judge the Judges, and the Cause.
Prescribe all Rules of Right or Wrong,
To th'Long Robe, and the Longer Tongue:
'Gainst which the World has no Defence,
But our more pow'rful Eloquence.
We manage things of greatest weight
In all the World's Affairs of State.
Are Ministers of War and Peace,
That sway all Nations how they please.
We rule all Churches, and their Flocks,
Heretical, and Orthodox.
And are the Heavenly Vehicles
O'th' Spirit, in all Conventicles.
By us is all Commerce and Trade
Improv'd, and Manag'd, and Decay'd.
For, nothing can go off so well,
Nor bears that Price, as what we sell.
We rule in ev'ry Publick Meeting,
And make Men do what we judge fitting.
322
Where Men do nothing, but wear Gowns.
We make the Man of War strike Sail,
And to our braver Conduct vail.
And, when h'has chac'd his Enemies,
Submit to us upon his Knees.
Is there an Officer of State,
Untimely rais'd; or Magistrate,
That's Haughty, and Imperious?
He's but a Journy-man to us.
That, as he gives us cause to do't,
Can keep him in, or turn him out.
We are your Guardians, that increase,
Or Waste your Fortunes, how we please.
And, as you humour us, can deal
In all your Matters, ill or well.
Or Waste your Fortunes, how we please.
And, as you humour us, can deal
In all your Matters, ill or well.
'Tis we that can dispose alone,
Whether your Heirs shall be your own.
To whose Integrity you must,
In spight of all your Caution, trust.
And 'less you fly beyond the Seas,
Can fit you with what Heirs we please:
And force you t'own 'em, though begotten
By French Valets, or Irish Foot-men.
Nor can the rigorousest Course
Prevail, unless to make us worse.
Who, still the harsher we are us'd,
Are further off from being reduc'd:
And scorn t'abate, for any Ills,
The least Punctilio of our Wills.
Force does but whet our Wits to apply
Arts, born with us, for Remedy:
Which all your Politicks, as yet,
Have ne'er been able to defeat.
For, when y'have try'd all sorts of ways,
What Fools d'we make of you in Plays?
While all the Favours we afford
Are but to girt you with the Sword,
To fight our Battels in our steads,
And have your Brains beat out o'your Heads:
Encounter in despight of Nature;
And fight at once with Fire and Water,
With Pyrates, Rocks, and Storms, and Seas,
Our Pride and Vanity t'appease.
Kill one another, and cut Throats,
For our good Graces, and best Thoughts;
To do your Exercise for Honour,
And have your Brains beat out the sooner;
Or crack'd, as Learnedly, upon
Things that are never to be known:
And still appear the more industrious,
The more your Projects are prepostrous.
To square the Circle of the Arts;
And run stark mad to shew your Parts.
Expound the Oracle of Laws,
And turn them which way we see Cause.
Be our Solicitors, and Agents,
And stand for us in all Engagements.
And these are all the Mighty Powers,
You vainly boast, to cry down ours.
And what in real Value's wanting,
Supply with Vapouring and Ranting:
Because your selves are terrify'd,
And stoop to one another's Pride:
Believe we have as little Wit
To be Out-hector'd, and Submit:
By your Example, lose that Right
In Treaties, which we gain'd in Fight:
And terrify'd into an Awe,
Pass on our selves a Salick Law,
Or, as some Nations use, give place,
And truckle to your Mighty Race.
Let Men usurp th'unjust Dominion,
As if they were the better Women.
Whether your Heirs shall be your own.
To whose Integrity you must,
In spight of all your Caution, trust.
And 'less you fly beyond the Seas,
Can fit you with what Heirs we please:
And force you t'own 'em, though begotten
By French Valets, or Irish Foot-men.
Nor can the rigorousest Course
Prevail, unless to make us worse.
Who, still the harsher we are us'd,
Are further off from being reduc'd:
And scorn t'abate, for any Ills,
The least Punctilio of our Wills.
Force does but whet our Wits to apply
Arts, born with us, for Remedy:
Which all your Politicks, as yet,
Have ne'er been able to defeat.
For, when y'have try'd all sorts of ways,
What Fools d'we make of you in Plays?
While all the Favours we afford
Are but to girt you with the Sword,
To fight our Battels in our steads,
And have your Brains beat out o'your Heads:
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And fight at once with Fire and Water,
With Pyrates, Rocks, and Storms, and Seas,
Our Pride and Vanity t'appease.
Kill one another, and cut Throats,
For our good Graces, and best Thoughts;
To do your Exercise for Honour,
And have your Brains beat out the sooner;
Or crack'd, as Learnedly, upon
Things that are never to be known:
And still appear the more industrious,
The more your Projects are prepostrous.
To square the Circle of the Arts;
And run stark mad to shew your Parts.
Expound the Oracle of Laws,
And turn them which way we see Cause.
Be our Solicitors, and Agents,
And stand for us in all Engagements.
And these are all the Mighty Powers,
You vainly boast, to cry down ours.
And what in real Value's wanting,
Supply with Vapouring and Ranting:
Because your selves are terrify'd,
And stoop to one another's Pride:
Believe we have as little Wit
To be Out-hector'd, and Submit:
By your Example, lose that Right
In Treaties, which we gain'd in Fight:
And terrify'd into an Awe,
Pass on our selves a Salick Law,
Or, as some Nations use, give place,
And truckle to your Mighty Race.
Let Men usurp th'unjust Dominion,
As if they were the better Women.
| Samuel Butler: Hudibras | |