The property is in the faint,

From whom they' injuriously detain 't;
Of him they hold their luxuries,

Their dogs, their horfes, whores, and dice,
Their riots, revels, masks, delights,
Pimps, buffoons, fiddlers, parafites;
All which the faints have title to,

And ought t' enjoy, if they'd their due.
What we take from them is no more
Than what was ours by right before:
For we are their true landlords still,
And they our tenants but at will.
At this the Knight began to rouze,
And by degrees grew valourous:
He ftar'd about, and feeing none
Of all his foes remain but one,

He fuatch'd his wear on that lay near him,
And from the ground began to rear him,
Vowing to make Crowdero pay
For all the reft that ran away.
But Ralpho now, in colder blood,
His fury mildly thus withstood:
Great Sir, quoth he, your mighty fpirit
Is rais'd too high; this fave does merit
To be the hangman's bufinefs, fooner
Than from your hand to have the honour
Of his deftruction; I that am
A Nothingnefs in deed and name,
Did fcorn to hurt his forfeit carcafe,
Or ill entreat his Fiddle or cafe:
Will you, great Sir, that glory blot
In cold blood, which you gain'd in hot?
Will you employ your conquering fword
To break a Fiddle, and your word?
For though I fought and overcame,
And quarter gave, 'twas in your name:
For great commanders always own
What 's profperous by the foldier done.
To fave, where you have power to kill,
Argues your power above your will;
And that your will and power have lefs
Than both might have of felfishness,
This power which, now alive, with dread
He trembles at, if he were dead
Would no more keep the flave in awe,
Than if you were a Knight of straw:
For Death would then be his conqueror
Not you, and free him from that terror.

If danger from his life accrue,

Or honour from his death, to you,

1015

The laurels that adorn their brows Are pull'd from living, not dead boughs, And living foes: the greatest fame Of cripple flain can be but lame: One half of him 's already flain, The other is not worth your pain; Th' honour can but on one fide light, As worthip did, when y' were dubb'd K Wherefore I think it better far To keep him prisoner of war, And let him faft in bonds abide, At court of juftice to be try'd; There if h' appear fo bold or crafty, Where may be danger in his fafety, 1025 If any member there diflike

1020

1030

His face, or to his beard have pique: Or if his death will fave or yield, Revenge or fright, it is reveal'd, Though he has quarter, ne'ertheless Y have power to hang him when you p This has been often done by fome Of our great conquerors, you know who And has by most of us been held Wife juftice, and to fome reveal'd: 1035 For words and promises, that yoke The conqueror, are quickly broke; Like Samfon's cuffs, though by his own Direction and advice put on. For if we fhould fight for the Cause 1040 By rules of military laws,

1045

And therefore charg'd him firft to bind
Crowdero's hands on rump behind,
And to its former place and use
The wooden member to reduce,
But force it take an oath before,
Ne'er to bear arms against him more.
Ralpho difpatch'd with speedy haste,
And having ty'd Crowdero faft,

Ver. 1122.] Plac'd on his shoulder. Editions 1674, 84, 1689, 1700. Leaning on fhoulder, restored

04.

Ver. 1130.] This is an enigmatical defcription a pair of ftocks and whipping-poft; it is fo mpous and fublime, that we are furprifed fo ble a structure could be raised from fo ludicrous fubject. We perceive wit and humour in the fongeft light in every part of the defcription: and how happily imagined is the pun in ver. 142! How ceremonious are the conquerors in fplaying the trophies of their victory, and imcitoning the unhappy captive! What a difmal are does he make at the dark prospect before m! All thefe circumftances were neceffary to e fully exhibited, that the reader might commifeate his favourite Knight, when a change of forthe unhappily brought him into Crowdero's place.

VOL. II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The fcatter'd rout return and rally,
Surround the place; the Knight does fally,
And is made prifoner: then they feize
Th' inchanted fort by form, release
Crowdero, and put the Squire in's place;
I should have first faid Hudibras.

A

Y me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!

What plaguy mifchiefs and mishaps
Do dog him ftill with after claps!
For though Dame Fortune seem to fmile,
And leer upon him, for a while,
She 'll after fhew him, in the nick
Of all his glories, a dog-trick.
This any man may fing or fay
I' th' ditty call'd, What if a Day?
For Hudibras, who thought he ad won

The field, as certain as a gun,
And having routed the whole troop,
With victory was cock-a-hoop,
Thinking he 'ad done enough to purchase
Thanksgiving-day among the Churches,
Wherein his mettle and brave worth
Might be explain'd by holder-forth,
3 E

10

And register'd by fame eterual,
In deathlefs pages of Diurnal,
Found in few minutes, to his cost,
He did but count without his hoft,
And that a turnftile is more certain
Than, in events of war, Dame Fortune.
For now the late faint hearted ront,
O'erthrown and scatter'd round about,
Chac'd by the horror of their fear,
From bloody fray of Knight and Bear,
(All that the Dogs, who in pursuit
Of the Knight's victory stood to 't,
And most ignobly fought to get
The honour of his blood and fweat)
Seeing the coaft was free and clear
O' the conquer'd and the conqueror,
Took heart again, and fac'd about,
As if they meant to ftand it out:
For by this time the routed Bear,
Attack'd by th' enemy i' th' rear,
Finding their number grew too great
For him to make a safe retreat,
Like a bold chieftain fac'd about ;
But wifely doubting to hold out,
Gave way to fortune, and with hafte
Fac'd the proud foe, and fled, and fac'd,
Retiring ftill, until he found

He 'ad got th' advantage of the ground,
And then as val'antly made head

To check the foe, and forthwith fled,
Leaving no art untry'd, nor trick
Of warrior ftout and politick,
Until, in spite of hot pursuit,
He gain'd a pafs, to hold dispute
On better terms, and ftop the courfe
Of the proud foe. With all his force
He bravely charg'd, and for a while
Forc'd their whole body to recoil;
But ftill their numbers fo increas'd,
He found himself at length oppreis'd,
And all evafions fo uncertain,
To fave himself for better fortune,
That he refolv'd, rather than vield,
To die with honour in the field,
And fell his hide and carcafe at
A price as high and desperate
As e'er he could. This refolution
He forthwith put in execution,
And bravely threw himself among
The enemy, i' th' greatest throng;
But what could fingle valour do,
Against fo numerous a foe?

Yet much he did, indeed too much
To be believ'd, where th' odds were fuch;

25

For now the Maftives, charging home, To blows and handy gripes were come; While manfully himself he bore, And, fetting his right foot before, He rais'd himself to thew how tall 30 His perfon was above them all. This equal fhame and envy stirr'd In th' enemy, that one should beard So many warriors, and fo ftout, As he had done, and stav'd it out, 35 Difdaining to lay down his arms, And yield on honourable terms. Enraged thus, fome in the rear Attack'd him,' and fome every where, Till down he fell; vet falling fought, And, being done, still laid about; As Widdrington, in doleful dumps, Is faid to fight upon his ftumps.

40

But all, alas! had been in vain,
And he inevitably flain,

45 If Trulla' and Cerdon in the nick
To rescue him had not been quick :
For Trulla, who was light of foot,

As fhafts which long-field Parthians shoot (But not fo light as to be borne

Or trip it o'er the water quicker

75

80

مو

95

100

50 Upon the ears of ftanding corn,

105

70

Ver. 10. As fhafts which long-field Parthians Thus it ftands in the two first editions of fboot 1663, and, I believe, in all the other editions to this time. Mr. Warburton is of opinion, the long-filed would be more proper; as the Partinas were ranged in long files, a difpofition properfor their manner of fighting, which was by fudded retreats and fudden charges. Mr. Smith, of Her lefton, in Norfolk, thinks that the following teration of the line would be an improvement:

As long-field fhafts, which Parthians shoot.

But then we must about it straight,
Or elfe our aid will come too late ;
Quarter he fcorns, he is foftout,
And therefore cannot long hold out.

This faid, they wav'd their weapons round
About their heads to clear the ground,
And, joining forces, laid about

So fiercely, that th' amazed rout

Turn'd tail again, and straight begun,

As if the devil drove, to run.

130

Than in fmall poets fplay-foot rhimes,
That make her, in their ruthful stories,
To answer to int'rogatories,
And most unconscionably depofe
To things of which the nothing knows;
And when the has faid all the can fay,
'Tis wrefted to the lover's fancy.

195

Meanwhile they' approach'd the place where Bruin
Was now engag'd to mortal ruin:
The conquering foe they foon afïail'd,
First Trulla ftav'd, and Cerdon tail'd,
Until their Maftives loos'd their hold:
And yet, alas! do what they could,
The worsted Bear came off with ftore
Of bloody wounds, but all before:
For as Achilles, dipt in pond,
Was anabaptiz'd free from wound,
Made proof against dead-doing fteel
All over, but the Pagan heel;

So did our champion's arm defend
All of him, but the other end,

His head and ears, which in the martial
Encounter loft a leathern parcel:
For as an Auftrian archduke once

Had one ear (which in ducatoons

Is half the coin) in battle par'd
Close to his head, fo Bruin fared;
But tugg'd and pull'd on th' other fide,
Like fcrivener newly crucify'd:

-Echo, Ruin.

145

So often in thy quarrel bled?

Nor did I ever winch or grudge it

For they dear fake. Quoth fhe, Mum budget. Think'ft thon 'twill not be laid i' th' difh

200

205

Thou turn'dft thy back? Quoth Echo, Pish. 210
To run from thofe thou 'adit overcome,

Thus cowardly? Quoth Echo, Mum.
But what a vengeance makes thee fly
From me too, as thine enemy?

215

150

Or, if thou haft no thought of me,

Nor what I have endur'd for thee,

Dr like the late-corrected leathern

Yet fhame and honour might prevail

Ears of the circumcifed brethren.

But gentle Trulla into th' ring

155

He wore in 's nofe convey'd a string,

With which she march'd before, and led

To keep thee thus from turning tail:
For who would grutch to spend his blood in
His honour's caufe? Quoth fhe, a Puddin.
This faid, his grief to anger turn'd,

220

The warrior to a grally bed,

Which in his manly ftomach burn'd;

As authors write, in a cool shade,
Which eglantine and rofes made;
Clofe by a foftly murmuring stream,
Where lovers us'd to loll and dream
There leaving him to his repofe,
Secured from pursuit of foes,
And wanting nothing but a fong,
And a well-turn'd theorbo hung
Upon a bough to ease the pain

His tugg'd ears fuffer'd, with a strain
They both drew up, to march in quest
Of his great leader and the reft.

For Orfin (who was more renown'd For ftout maintaining of his ground, 'n standing fight, than for purfuit, As being not fo quick of foot) Was not long able to keep pace With others that purfued the chace, But found himself left far behind, Both out of heart and out of wind; Griev'd to behold his Bear pursued So basely by a multitude,

And like to fall not by the prowess, But numbers, of his coward foes. Herag'd, and kept as heavy a coil as Stout Hercules, for loss of Hylas;