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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| III. | CANTO III. |
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| XVII. |
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 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
17
CANTO III.
I had not long, on City Stones,
Bestirr'd my Stumps and Marrow-bones,
But Robin H---g came grunting by me
As fast, as if he strove to fly me.
Thought I, here's some high Wind Abroad,
That blows, I fear, but little Good.
The grizly Boar is hunting round,
To see what Windfals may be found.
He looks as if he ran in hope
This Storm would make the Acorns drop.
At last I saw him very plain
Follow his Nose up Fetter-Lane.
Observing that, thinks I, for certain
There's some Intrigue behind the Curtain,
Manag'd aloft for some by Ends,
To persecute the Church's Friends:
For tho' our factious Foes first draw,
Yet, when we push, they take the Law.
Bestirr'd my Stumps and Marrow-bones,
But Robin H---g came grunting by me
As fast, as if he strove to fly me.
Thought I, here's some high Wind Abroad,
That blows, I fear, but little Good.
The grizly Boar is hunting round,
To see what Windfals may be found.
He looks as if he ran in hope
This Storm would make the Acorns drop.
At last I saw him very plain
Follow his Nose up Fetter-Lane.
Observing that, thinks I, for certain
There's some Intrigue behind the Curtain,
Manag'd aloft for some by Ends,
To persecute the Church's Friends:
For tho' our factious Foes first draw,
Yet, when we push, they take the Law.
18
So bully'ng Cowards oft, we see,
Provoke a generous Enemy,
Who, when he takes just Satisfaction,
The ill-tongu'd Scoundrel brings his Action.
Provoke a generous Enemy,
Who, when he takes just Satisfaction,
The ill-tongu'd Scoundrel brings his Action.
I shook my Head. Thought I, 'tis hard
The Church can't stand upon her Guard;
But those who always meant to harm her,
Shall thus be suffer'd to disarm her.
Patience, said I; now R---d is Knighted,
Sure some Folks will be clearer sighted:
Ne'er fear but we shall change our Station,
For Semper Idem's out of Fashion.
I've heard a good old Proverb say,
That e'ery Dog has got his Day:
Therefore, be cheerful, do not mourn,
The low'rmost Spoke must upwards turn;
And when it does the only Skill
Will be to make the Wheel stand still,
Or else to human Sense 'tis plain,
In Turn, it must go down again:
For Wheels, like Women, change their Ground,
T'obey the Pow'r that works them round,
Only they move by diff'rent Forces;
One's turn'd by Men, the other Horses.
The Church can't stand upon her Guard;
But those who always meant to harm her,
Shall thus be suffer'd to disarm her.
Patience, said I; now R---d is Knighted,
Sure some Folks will be clearer sighted:
Ne'er fear but we shall change our Station,
For Semper Idem's out of Fashion.
I've heard a good old Proverb say,
That e'ery Dog has got his Day:
Therefore, be cheerful, do not mourn,
The low'rmost Spoke must upwards turn;
And when it does the only Skill
Will be to make the Wheel stand still,
19
In Turn, it must go down again:
For Wheels, like Women, change their Ground,
T'obey the Pow'r that works them round,
Only they move by diff'rent Forces;
One's turn'd by Men, the other Horses.
Being much concern'd to see Things go thus,
I stept into a Ninny-Broth House,
In Hopes to better understand
What Low-Church Project was in Hand
To bring that Party to Confusion,
That rescu'd them from Persecution.
Ent'ring, I saw quite round a Table,
An ill-look'd thin-jaw'd, Calves-head, Rabble,
All stigmatiz'd with Looks like Jews,
Each arm'd with half a Sheet of News:
Some sucking Smoak from Indian Fuel,
And others sipping Turky Gruel;
Still searching after something new
In Nob, the Gazette, or Review.
Sometimes they smil'd, as if well pleas'd,
Then by and by look'd vex'd and teaz'd,
Alt'ring their sublunary Looks
According as they lik'd their Books.
I stept into a Ninny-Broth House,
In Hopes to better understand
What Low-Church Project was in Hand
To bring that Party to Confusion,
That rescu'd them from Persecution.
Ent'ring, I saw quite round a Table,
An ill-look'd thin-jaw'd, Calves-head, Rabble,
All stigmatiz'd with Looks like Jews,
Each arm'd with half a Sheet of News:
Some sucking Smoak from Indian Fuel,
And others sipping Turky Gruel;
20
In Nob, the Gazette, or Review.
Sometimes they smil'd, as if well pleas'd,
Then by and by look'd vex'd and teaz'd,
Alt'ring their sublunary Looks
According as they lik'd their Books.
At the low'r End o'th' Table, sate
Some High-Church Brethren, in a Chat,
Concern'd, as I suppose, to spy
The High-Church low, and Low-Church high.
Before them, in great Order, lay
The News authentick for the Day,
Mix'd with some High-Church Vindications
Against false Whiggish Defamations;
The Mercury, so much abhorr'd
By lofty Whigs, that rule the Board;
And the Rehearsal, whose keen Satyr
So closely shav'd the Observator;
And when he'd shewn how bald and bare
He was of Sense, instead of Hair,
He left him to his Cuckow Tone,
Laugh'd at by all, and lik'd by none.
Some High-Church Brethren, in a Chat,
Concern'd, as I suppose, to spy
The High-Church low, and Low-Church high.
Before them, in great Order, lay
The News authentick for the Day,
Mix'd with some High-Church Vindications
Against false Whiggish Defamations;
The Mercury, so much abhorr'd
By lofty Whigs, that rule the Board;
And the Rehearsal, whose keen Satyr
So closely shav'd the Observator;
21
He was of Sense, instead of Hair,
He left him to his Cuckow Tone,
Laugh'd at by all, and lik'd by none.
'Twixt both the Parties I sate down;
Did neither dare to smile or frown,
Lest one should, by my Looks, discover
I was a better Friend to th'other:
For if a Man foresees a Squabble
'Twixt adverse Parties at a Table,
Tho' he's determin'd of one Side,
True Policy will bid him hide
His Conscience, 'till the Battel's try'd;
And when it's over, he that's crafty
Will chuse the strongest Side for Safety:
Before, a Man may be mistaken,
And 'stead of saving, lose his Bacon:
For when vain Hopes and jealous Fears
Set Fools together by the Ears,
And Justice must be scann'd by Fight,
The Cause that conquers is the Right.
Then who would shew he was a Lover
Of either, 'till the Danger's over?
Since he who takes the other Way,
Comes safely in at best o'th' Lay.
Did neither dare to smile or frown,
Lest one should, by my Looks, discover
I was a better Friend to th'other:
For if a Man foresees a Squabble
'Twixt adverse Parties at a Table,
Tho' he's determin'd of one Side,
True Policy will bid him hide
His Conscience, 'till the Battel's try'd;
And when it's over, he that's crafty
Will chuse the strongest Side for Safety:
Before, a Man may be mistaken,
And 'stead of saving, lose his Bacon:
For when vain Hopes and jealous Fears
Set Fools together by the Ears,
22
The Cause that conquers is the Right.
Then who would shew he was a Lover
Of either, 'till the Danger's over?
Since he who takes the other Way,
Comes safely in at best o'th' Lay.
I scarce had fill'd a Pipe of Sot-weed,
And by the Candle made it Hot-weed,
But one of the Dissenting Crew
Began aloud with the Review,
And read it with a Grace becoming
A Low-Church Teacher, when he's drumming
Upon his Cusheon to his Humming,
To cuff his blundering Oration
Into the Ears of's Congregation:
For if their Fist a'n't reconcil'd
To their dull Tone, the Sermon's spoil'd;
For Gesture is the Life and Glory
Of Nonsense preach'd for Oratory:
Like Fidlers, they must keep their Time,
As sure as Poets do their Rime.
Tone, Words, and Actions must agree,
Or else they spoil their Harmony.
And by the Candle made it Hot-weed,
But one of the Dissenting Crew
Began aloud with the Review,
And read it with a Grace becoming
A Low-Church Teacher, when he's drumming
Upon his Cusheon to his Humming,
To cuff his blundering Oration
Into the Ears of's Congregation:
For if their Fist a'n't reconcil'd
To their dull Tone, the Sermon's spoil'd;
For Gesture is the Life and Glory
Of Nonsense preach'd for Oratory:
23
As sure as Poets do their Rime.
Tone, Words, and Actions must agree,
Or else they spoil their Harmony.
All was observ'd with wond'rous Care
By our Whig Libel Lecturer:
For when he came to th'Author's Letters,
From Tackers sent, or their Abettors,
As he pretends, wherein they threaten,
He shall (as he deserves) be beaten
For being sawcy in's Review,
To those he never saw or knew.
When this forg'd Tale the Zealot read,
He foam'd at Mouth, and shook his Head,
And did a Tone more frightful use,
Than those that cry sad bloody News.
By our Whig Libel Lecturer:
For when he came to th'Author's Letters,
From Tackers sent, or their Abettors,
As he pretends, wherein they threaten,
He shall (as he deserves) be beaten
For being sawcy in's Review,
To those he never saw or knew.
When this forg'd Tale the Zealot read,
He foam'd at Mouth, and shook his Head,
And did a Tone more frightful use,
Than those that cry sad bloody News.
Bless me, thought I, sure he that's wise,
Can see thro' these transparent Lies.
These poor thin tiffany Projections,
Contriv'd to heighten our Distractions,
And gull the Crowd at their Elections:
For who, thought he, will give their Votes
For Men that threaten to cut Throats,
And use such ruffainly Correction
To me, the Prop of all their Faction,
That dares, in Spigte of Truth or Laws,
Defend with Lies the good old Cause,
In Hopes the Magazine of Pow'r
May Church and Monarchy devour,
That Rebels may surmount the Throne,
And pull the Church establish'd down;
And sacred Rogues in Judgment sit,
To tread all Order under Feet.
Could we but thus inflame the Mob,
To bring about this happy Jobb,
Then hey for me and Brother Nob.
Can see thro' these transparent Lies.
24
Contriv'd to heighten our Distractions,
And gull the Crowd at their Elections:
For who, thought he, will give their Votes
For Men that threaten to cut Throats,
And use such ruffainly Correction
To me, the Prop of all their Faction,
That dares, in Spigte of Truth or Laws,
Defend with Lies the good old Cause,
In Hopes the Magazine of Pow'r
May Church and Monarchy devour,
That Rebels may surmount the Throne,
And pull the Church establish'd down;
And sacred Rogues in Judgment sit,
To tread all Order under Feet.
Could we but thus inflame the Mob,
To bring about this happy Jobb,
Then hey for me and Brother Nob.
25
But this will spoil the forg'd Device
Of his Epistolary Lies.
How will he prove these fright'ning Letters,
From Tackers came, or their Abettors?
And not from some dear zealous Friends,
To serve their painful Prophet's Ends?
Or that the same Hand did not give 'em
To th'Penny Post, that did receive 'em?
I doubt, should we inspect the Matter,
The Author of the true-born Satyr
Would prove the Scribe, or the Dictator.
So the Jilt, courted by a Cully,
Imploys her self, or else her Bully,
To, with Love Letters, daily woo her
In Great Mens Names directed to her;
Which to her Spark the Doxy shows,
At which he raves, and jealous grows;
And that he may alone secure
The Prize, he proves the kinder to her.
Such Stratagems are often us'd,
That easy Fools may be abus'd.
Of his Epistolary Lies.
How will he prove these fright'ning Letters,
From Tackers came, or their Abettors?
And not from some dear zealous Friends,
To serve their painful Prophet's Ends?
Or that the same Hand did not give 'em
To th'Penny Post, that did receive 'em?
I doubt, should we inspect the Matter,
The Author of the true-born Satyr
Would prove the Scribe, or the Dictator.
So the Jilt, courted by a Cully,
Imploys her self, or else her Bully,
To, with Love Letters, daily woo her
In Great Mens Names directed to her;
Which to her Spark the Doxy shows,
At which he raves, and jealous grows;
And that he may alone secure
The Prize, he proves the kinder to her.
26
That easy Fools may be abus'd.
So, if the Truth was to be known,
And these strange tacking Letters shown,
They'd surely prove the Prophet's own;
Or else a Pack of Low-Church Lies,
Sent from his Friends by his Advice,
To falsely blacken those with Crimes,
That dare be just i'th' worst of Times,
When subtle Knaves, in Consultation,
And Fools, thro' false Insinuation,
Unite, to sacrifice the Nation.
And these strange tacking Letters shown,
They'd surely prove the Prophet's own;
Or else a Pack of Low-Church Lies,
Sent from his Friends by his Advice,
To falsely blacken those with Crimes,
That dare be just i'th' worst of Times,
When subtle Knaves, in Consultation,
And Fools, thro' false Insinuation,
Unite, to sacrifice the Nation.
No sooner was this Libel read,
And gently down before 'em laid,
To shew how courteous and respective
They were to a Low-Church Invective;
But a High-Church-man, in Derision,
Faces them, and in Opposition
To F---'s Aspersions, that were spurious,
Reads out Politicus Mercurius.
Excuse me, that the Muses force
The Cart to stand before the Horse,
Because it will be so sometimes
With us that fumble for our Rimes;
Nay, Reason must in Verse give Ground,
Upon a Pinch, to empty Sound,
Or else those Points we shew our Art in,
Must often go untag'd for certain.
And gently down before 'em laid,
To shew how courteous and respective
They were to a Low-Church Invective;
But a High-Church-man, in Derision,
Faces them, and in Opposition
27
Reads out Politicus Mercurius.
Excuse me, that the Muses force
The Cart to stand before the Horse,
Because it will be so sometimes
With us that fumble for our Rimes;
Nay, Reason must in Verse give Ground,
Upon a Pinch, to empty Sound,
Or else those Points we shew our Art in,
Must often go untag'd for certain.
This Member of the High-Church Body
At Loyal News being very ready,
Run o'er the Merc'ry so compleatly,
Read it s' emphatically neatly,
That all the Saints within the Hearing,
Some listening, and others leering,
Seem'd as much vex'd and discontented,
As if the Church had circumvented
Those pious Frauds we daily see
Manag'd thro' that Hypocrisy,
Occasional Conformity.
At last, with Malice in their Faces,
They frowning started from their Places,
All moving Brother next to Brother,
Like Wild Geese, after one another.
Thus do they fly where e'er they find
Bright Truth with solid Reason join'd.
At Loyal News being very ready,
Run o'er the Merc'ry so compleatly,
Read it s' emphatically neatly,
That all the Saints within the Hearing,
Some listening, and others leering,
Seem'd as much vex'd and discontented,
As if the Church had circumvented
28
Manag'd thro' that Hypocrisy,
Occasional Conformity.
At last, with Malice in their Faces,
They frowning started from their Places,
All moving Brother next to Brother,
Like Wild Geese, after one another.
Thus do they fly where e'er they find
Bright Truth with solid Reason join'd.
So Owls and Bats abhor the Light
Superior to their feeble Sight;
And for some dim Reflexion, shun
The perfect Glories of the Sun.
Superior to their feeble Sight;
And for some dim Reflexion, shun
The perfect Glories of the Sun.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |