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] |
 |
|
| I. |
| 1. |
| I. |
| II. | CANTO II. |
| 2. |
| III. |
| 3. |
| IV. |
| 4. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| 5. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| 6. |
| IX. |
| 7. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| 8. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| 9. |
| XIV. |
| 10. |
| XV. |
| 11. |
| XVI. |
| 12. |
| XVII. |
| II. |
| 1. |
| I. |
| 2. |
| II. |
| 3. |
| III. |
| 4. |
| IV. |
| 5. |
| V. |
| 6. |
| VI. |
| 7. |
| VII. |
| 8. |
| VIII. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| IX. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
25
CANTO II.
B'ing greatly troubl'd and amuz'd
To see old London thus confus'd,
In Hopes to ease my Melancholy,
I strol'd among the Bibliopolæ,
Where Pamphlets lay in Shops and Stalls,
Pil'd up as thick as Stones in Paul's;
Columns of Scandal reach'd the Ceiling,
Contriv'd by Knaves for Fools to deal in.
Well may the World, thought I, be mad,
Since Scribling's such a thriving Trade,
That twenty thousand Cut-throat Libels
Shall sell, before a Score of Bibles;
And Low-Church Satyrs move much faster,
Than Sermons by a High-Church-Pastor.
The Policy, I must confess,
Is far beyond my Reason's Guess,
That such Press-Freedom is allow'd
To cozen and corrupt the Crowd,
Lest they design the restless Elves
Full Rope enough to hang themselves;
Or else, like Toads, (as some have seen 'em)
Swell 'till they burst with their own Venom.
I musing stood a while, at last,
Turn'd o'er the Wild-fire, as I past,
Found some with sanctify'd Intent
T'unhinge and ruffle Government;
Others, to draw unwary People
To the Low-Church that wears no Steeple,
Insinuating, that the High
Beyond all Moderation fly,
And, that her Members were no more
Than Sons o'th' Babylonian Whore:
But 'twas to me no great Surprize,
That Whiggish Saints should prove so wise
To print, as well as preach their Lies.
The Reason's plain, to all Appearance,
Why Dwarfs and Giants live at Variance.
Low Things, by Nature, can't compleatly
Agree with what is high and stately:
The little Mouse does Malice vent,
When it beholds the Elephant:
Each crooked Dumplin shews her Hate
To the fair Lass more tall and straight:
Dowdy to Beauty, thus compar'd,
Will think her own Misfortune's hard,
And, with a deep Resentment, see
More plain her own Deformity.
Why then should any Mortal wonder,
Why those are angry, that are under,
Since all Things in a grov'ling State,
Will envy what is high and great?
To see old London thus confus'd,
In Hopes to ease my Melancholy,
I strol'd among the Bibliopolæ,
Where Pamphlets lay in Shops and Stalls,
Pil'd up as thick as Stones in Paul's;
Columns of Scandal reach'd the Ceiling,
Contriv'd by Knaves for Fools to deal in.
Well may the World, thought I, be mad,
Since Scribling's such a thriving Trade,
That twenty thousand Cut-throat Libels
Shall sell, before a Score of Bibles;
And Low-Church Satyrs move much faster,
Than Sermons by a High-Church-Pastor.
The Policy, I must confess,
Is far beyond my Reason's Guess,
That such Press-Freedom is allow'd
To cozen and corrupt the Crowd,
26
Full Rope enough to hang themselves;
Or else, like Toads, (as some have seen 'em)
Swell 'till they burst with their own Venom.
I musing stood a while, at last,
Turn'd o'er the Wild-fire, as I past,
Found some with sanctify'd Intent
T'unhinge and ruffle Government;
Others, to draw unwary People
To the Low-Church that wears no Steeple,
Insinuating, that the High
Beyond all Moderation fly,
And, that her Members were no more
Than Sons o'th' Babylonian Whore:
But 'twas to me no great Surprize,
That Whiggish Saints should prove so wise
To print, as well as preach their Lies.
The Reason's plain, to all Appearance,
Why Dwarfs and Giants live at Variance.
Low Things, by Nature, can't compleatly
Agree with what is high and stately:
27
When it beholds the Elephant:
Each crooked Dumplin shews her Hate
To the fair Lass more tall and straight:
Dowdy to Beauty, thus compar'd,
Will think her own Misfortune's hard,
And, with a deep Resentment, see
More plain her own Deformity.
Why then should any Mortal wonder,
Why those are angry, that are under,
Since all Things in a grov'ling State,
Will envy what is high and great?
Next, I beheld Lampoons and Satyrs,
To vilify our Legislators,
And make those slighted and neglected,
By whom we chiefly are protected.
This Practice sure, thought I, is naught,
That thin-skull'd Peasants should be taught
To hold that Power in Disdain,
That only can our Rights maintain.
'Tis strange we should withdraw Respect
From those our very selves elect;
We must be Blockheads first to chuse 'em,
Or very Rascals to abuse 'em:
For he that thinks with Scandal's Dart,
To wound a Magistrate a-part
From his Authority, declares
By th'gross Affront, he little cares
For th'Pow'r or Dignity he bears.
No Sance-box, sure, by way of Farce,
Will bid his Pastor kiss his A---se,
That thinks he's under an Injunction
To shew much Rev'rence to his Function:
Therefore, whoever vents his Froth
Against the one, despises both.
'Tis true, in cruel Times, long since,
When Rebels quarrell'd with their Prince,
And Truth was quite discountenanc'd,
A nice Distinction was advanc'd
Betwixt those two united Things,
The Person, and the Pow'r of Kings:
But when they were at Distance set,
Behold the sad succeeding Fate;
A nicer Diff'rence then they made
Betwixt the Body and the Head.
Thus could not prop their first Position,
Until they'd made their last Division,
And prov'd too plainly what they meant,
By Dint of Ax, not Argument.
To vilify our Legislators,
And make those slighted and neglected,
By whom we chiefly are protected.
This Practice sure, thought I, is naught,
That thin-skull'd Peasants should be taught
To hold that Power in Disdain,
That only can our Rights maintain.
'Tis strange we should withdraw Respect
From those our very selves elect;
We must be Blockheads first to chuse 'em,
Or very Rascals to abuse 'em:
For he that thinks with Scandal's Dart,
To wound a Magistrate a-part
From his Authority, declares
By th'gross Affront, he little cares
For th'Pow'r or Dignity he bears.
28
Will bid his Pastor kiss his A---se,
That thinks he's under an Injunction
To shew much Rev'rence to his Function:
Therefore, whoever vents his Froth
Against the one, despises both.
'Tis true, in cruel Times, long since,
When Rebels quarrell'd with their Prince,
And Truth was quite discountenanc'd,
A nice Distinction was advanc'd
Betwixt those two united Things,
The Person, and the Pow'r of Kings:
But when they were at Distance set,
Behold the sad succeeding Fate;
A nicer Diff'rence then they made
Betwixt the Body and the Head.
Thus could not prop their first Position,
Until they'd made their last Division,
And prov'd too plainly what they meant,
By Dint of Ax, not Argument.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |