Hudibras/Part 3/Canto 1

by Samuel Butler (1612-1680)

PART III. CANTO I.

 

 

ARGUMENT.

The Knight and Squire resolve at once,
The one the other to renounce;
They both approach the Lady's bower,
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a masquerade,
By furies and hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him, from himself, by night.

PART III. CANTO I.

 

IS true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings to's bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute, 5
Disdains to render^[1] in his suit;
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble;
While those who sillily pursue
The simple downright way, and true, 10
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won 15
Than by Caligula the moon,^[2]
Cry out upon the stars for doing
Ill offices, to cross their wooing,
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred,^[3] 20
And still the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted, 25
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap't headlong int' Elysium,
Thro' th' windows of a dazzling room?^[4]
But for some cross ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame. 30
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways, 35
As follows in due time and place.
 No sooner was the bloody fight
Between the wizard and the Knight,
With all th' appurtenances, over,
But he relaps'd again t' a lover; 40
As he was always wont to do,
When he'ad discomfited a foe,
And us'd the only antique philters,
Deriv'd from old heroic tilters.^[5]
But now triumphant and victorious, 45
He held th' atchievement was too glorious
For such a conqueror to meddle
With petty constable or beadle;
Or fly for refuge to the hostess
Of th' inns of court and chanc'ry, Justice; 50
Who might, perhaps, reduce his cause
To th' ordeal trial of the laws;^[6]
Where none escape, but such as branded
With red-hot irons, have past bare-handed;
And if they cannot read one verse 55
I' th' Psalms, must sing it, and that's worse.^[7]
He, therefore, judging it below him,
To tempt a shame the dev'l might owe him,
Resolv'd to leave the Squire for bail
And mainprize for him, to the jail, 60
To answer with his vessel,^[8] all
That might disastrously befall.
He thought it now the fittest juncture
To give the Lady a rencounter;
T' acquaint her with his expedition, 65
And conquest o'er the fierce magician;
Describe the manner of the fray,
And show the spoils he brought away;
His bloody scourging aggravate,
The number of the blows and weight: 70
All which might probably succeed,
And gain belief he 'ad done the deed:
Which he resolv'd t' enforce, and spare
No pawning of his soul to swear;
But, rather than produce his back, 75
To set his conscience on the rack;
And in pursuance of his urging
Of articles perform'd, and scourging,
And all things else, upon his part,
Demand delivery of her heart, 80
Her goods and chattels, and good graces,
And person, up to his embraces.
Thought he, the ancient errant knights
Won all their ladies' hearts in fights.
And cut whole giants into fitters,^[9] 80
To put them into am'rous twitters;
Whose stubborn bowels scorn'd to yield,
Until their gallants were half kill'd;
But when their bones were drubb'd so sore,
They durst not woo one combat more, 90
The ladies' hearts began to melt,
Subdu'd by blows their lovers felt.
So Spanish heroes, with their lances,
At once wound bulls and ladies' fancies;^[10]
And he acquires the noblest spouse 95
That widows greatest herds of cows;
Then what may I expect to do,
Who 've quell'd so vast a buffalo?
 Meanwhile the Squire was on his way,
The Knight's late orders to obey; 100
Who sent him for a strong detachment
Of beadles, constables, and watchmen,
T'attack the cunning-man, for plunder
Committed falsely on his lumber;
When he, who had so lately sack'd 105
The enemy, had done the fact,
Had rifled all his pokes and fobs^[11]
Of gimcracks, whims, and jiggumbobs,^[12]
Which he by hook or crook had gather'd,
And for his own inventions father'd: 110
And when they should, at jail-delivery,
Unriddle one another's thievery,
Both might have evidence enough
To render neither halter-proof.^[13]
He thought it desperate to tarry, 115
And venture to be accessary;
But rather wisely slip his fetters,
And leave them for the Knight, his betters.
He call'd to mind th' unjust foul play
He would have offer'd him that day, 120
To make him curry his own hide,
Which no beast ever did beside,
Without all possible evasion,
But of the riding dispensation:^[14]
And therefore much about the hour 125
The Knight, for reasons told before,
Resolv'd to leave him to the fury
Of justice, and an unpack'd jury,
The Squire concurr'd t' abandon him,
And serve him in the self-same trim;^[15] 130
T' acquaint the lady what he'd done,
And what he meant to carry on;
What project 't was he went about
When Sidrophel and he fell out;
His firm and stedfast resolution, 135
To swear her to an execution;^[16]
To pawn his inward ears to marry her,^[17]
And bribe the devil himself to carry her.
In which both dealt, as if they meant
Their party saints to represent, 140
Who never fail'd, upon their sharing
In any prosperous arms-bearing,
To lay themselves out to supplant
Each other cousin-german saint.
But ere the Knight could do his part, 145
The Squire had got so much the start,
He'd to the lady done his errand.
And told her all his tricks aforehand.
 Just as he finish'd his report,
The Knight alighted in the court, 150
And having ty'd his beast t' a pale,
And taken time for both to stale,
He put his band and beard in order,
The sprucer to accost and board her:^[18]
And now began t' approach the door, 155
When she, who 'ad spy'd him out before,
Convey'd th' informer out of sight,
And went to entertain the Knight:
With whom encountering, after longees^[19]
Of humble and submissive congees, 160
And all due ceremonies paid,
He strok'd his beard, and thus he said:^[20]
 Madam, I do, as is my duty,
Honour the shadow of your shoe-tie;^[21]
And now am come, to bring your ear 165
A present you'll be glad to hear;
At least I hope so: the thing's done,
Or may I never see the sun;
For which I humbly now demand
Performance at your gentle hand; 170
And that you'd please to do your part,
As I have done mine to my smart.
 With that he shrugg'd his sturdy back,
As if he felt his shoulders ake:
But she, who well enough knew what, 175
Before he spoke, he would be at,
Pretended not to apprehend
The mystery of what he mean'd,
And therefore wish'd him to expound
His dark expressions less profound. 180
 Madam, quoth he, I come to prove
How much I've suffer'd for your love,
Which, like your votary, to win,
I have not spar'd my tatter'd skin;^[22]
And, for those meritorious lashes, 185
To claim your favour and good graces.
 Quoth she, I do remember once^[23]
I freed you from th' enchanted sconce;^[24]
And that you promis'd, for that favour,
To bind your back to 'ts good behaviour,^[25] 190
And for my sake and service, vow'd
To lay upon 't a heavy load,
And what 't would bear to a scruple prove,
As other knights do oft make love.
Which, whether you have done or no, 195
Concerns yourself, not me, to know;
But if you have, I shall confess,
Y' are honester than I could guess.
⁠Quoth he, If you suspect my troth,
I cannot prove it but by oath; 200
And, if you make a question on 't,
I'll pawn my soul that I have done 't:
And he that makes his soul his surety,
I think does give the best secur'ty.
⁠Quoth she, Some say the soul's secure 205
Against distress and forfeiture;
Is free from action, and exempt
From execution and contempt;
And to be summon'd to appear
In the other world 's illegal here,^[26] 210
And therefore few make any account,
Int' what incumbrances they run't:
For most men carry things so even
Between this world, and hell, and heaven,^[27]
Without the least offence to either, 215
They freely deal in all together,
And equally abhor to quit
This world for both, or both for it.
And when they pawn and damn their souls,
They are but pris'ners on paroles. 220
⁠For that, quoth he, 'tis rational,
They may be accountable in all:
For when there is that intercourse
Between divine and human pow'rs,
That all that we determine here 225
Commands obedience ev'rywhere;^[28]
When penalties may be commuted^[29]
For fines, or ears, and executed,
It follows, nothing binds so fast
As souls in pawn and mortgage past: 230
For oaths are th' only tests and scales^[30]
Of right and wrong, and true and false;
And there's no other way to try
The doubts of law and justice by.
⁠Quoth she, What is it you would swear? 235
There's no believing 'till I hear:
For, 'till they're understood, all tales,
Like nonsense, are not true nor false.
⁠Quoth he, When I resolv'd t'obey
What you commanded th' other day, 240
And to perform my exercise,
As schools are wont, for your fair eyes;
T' avoid all scruples in the case,
I went to do't upon the place;
But as the castle is enchanted 245
By Sidrophel the witch, and haunted
With evil spirits, as you know,
Who took my Squire and me for two,^[31]
Before I'd hardly time to lay
My weapons by, and disarray, 250
I heard a formidable noise,
Loud as the Stentrophonic voice,^[32]
That roar'd far off. Dispatch and strip,
I'm ready with th' infernal whip,
That shall divest thy ribs of skin, 255
To expiate thy ling'ring sin;
Thou'st broke perfidiously thy oath,
And not perform'd thy plighted troth,
But spar'd thy renegado back,
Where thou'dst so great a prize at stake,^[33] 260
Which now the fates have order'd me
For penance and revenge, to flea,
Unless thou presently make haste;
Time is, time was!^[34]—and there it ceast.
With which, tho' startled, I confess, 265
Yet th' horror of the thing was less
Than the other dismal apprehension
Of interruption or prevention;
And therefore, snatching up the rod,
I laid upon my back a load, 270
Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood,
To make my word and honour good;
Till tir'd, and taking truce at length,
For new recruits of breath and strength,
I felt the blows still ply'd as fast, 275
As if they'd been by lovers plac'd,
In raptures of Platonic lashing,
And chaste contemplative bardashing.^[35]
When facing hastily about,
To stand upon my guard and scout,^[36] 280
I found th' infernal cunning man,
And the under-witch, his Caliban,
With scourges, like the furies, arm'd,
That on my outward quarters storm'd.
In haste I snatch'd my weapon up, 285
And gave their hellish rage a stop;
Call'd thrice upon your name,^[37] and fell
Courageously on Sidrophel:
Who now transform'd himself t' a bear,
Began to roar aloud, and tear; 290
When I as furiously press'd on,^[38]
My weapon down his throat to run.
Laid hold on him; but he broke loose,
And turn'd himself into a goose,
Div'd under water, in a pond, 295
To hide himself from being found;
In vain I sought him; but as soon
As I perceiv'd him fled and gone,
Prepar'd, with equal haste and rage,
His under-sorc'rer to engage; 300
But bravely scorning to defile
My sword with feeble blood, and vile,
I judg'd it better from a quick-
Set hedge to cut a knotted stick,
With which I furiously laid on; 305
Till, in a harsh and doleful tone,
It roar'd, hold, for pity, Sir,
I am too great a sufferer,^[39]
Abus'd as you have been b'a witch,
But conjur'd int' a worse caprich,^[40] 310
Who sends me out on many a jaunt,
Old houses in the night to haunt,
For opportunities t' improve
Designs of thievery or love;
With drugs convey'd in drink or meat, 315
All feats of witches counterfeit;
Kill pigs and geese with powder'd glass,
And make it for enchantment pass;
With cow-itch^[41] meazle like a leper,
And choke with fumes of guinea pepper; 320
Make lechers, and their punks, with dewtry,^[42]
Commit fantastical advowtry;
Bewitch hermetic men to run^[43]
Stark staring mad with manicon;
Believe mechanic virtuosi 325
Can raise 'em mountains in Potosi;^[44]
And sillier than the antic fools,
Take treasure for a heap of coals;^[45]
Seek out for plants with signatures,
To quack of universal cures;^[46] 330
With figures, ground on panes of glass,
Make people on their heads to pass;^[47]
And mighty heaps of coin increase,
Reflected from a single piece;
To draw in fools, whose nat'ral itches 335
Incline perpetually to witches,
And keep me in continual fears,
And danger of my neck and ears;
When less delinquents have been scourg'd,
And hemp on wooden anvils forg'd,^[48] 340
Which others for cravats have worn
About their necks, and took a turn.
 I pitied the sad punishment
The wretched caitiff underwent,
And held my drubbing of his bones 345
Too great an honour for poltroons;
For knights are bound to feel no blows
From paltry and unequal foes,^[49]
Who, when they slash and cut to pieces,
Do all with civillest addresses: 350
Their horses never give a blow,
But when they make a leg and bow.
I therefore spar'd his flesh, and prest him
About the witch, with many a question.
 Quoth he, For many years he drove 355
A kind of broking-trade in love,^[50]
Employ'd in all th' intrigues, and trust,
Of feeble, speculative lust;
Procurer to th' extravagancy,
And crazy ribaldry of fancy, 360
By those the devil had forsook,
As things below him, to provoke;
But b'ing a virtuoso, able
To smatter, quack, and cant, and dabble,
He held his talent most adroit, 365
For any mystical exploit,
As others of his tribe had done,
And rais'd their prices three to one;
For one predicting pimp has th' odds
Of chaldrons of plain downright bawds. 370
But as an elf, the dev'l's valet,
Is not so slight a thing to get,^[51]
For those that do his bus'ness best,
In hell are us'd the ruggedest;
Before so meriting a person 375
Cou'd get a grant, but in reversion,
He serv'd two 'prenticeships, and longer,
I' th' myst'ry of a lady-monger.
For, as some write, a witch's ghost,
As soon as from the body loos'd, 380
Becomes a puisné-imp itself,
And is another witch's elf;
He, after searching far and near,
At length found one in Lancashire,
With whom he bargain'd beforehand, 385
And, atter hanging, entertain'd:
Since which he's play'd a thousand feats,
And practis'd all mechanic cheats:
Transform'd himself to th' ugly shapes
Of wolves and bears, baboons and apes; 390
Which he has varied more than witches,
Or Pharaoh's wizards could their switches;
And all with whom he's had to do,
Turn'd to as monstrous figures too;
Witness myself, whom he's abus'd, 395
And to this beastly shape reduc'd;
By feeding me on beans and peas,
He crams in nasty crevices,
And turns to comfits by his arts,
To make me relish for desserts, 400
And one by one, with shame and fear,
Lick up the candied provender.

R. Cooper sculp^t.

William Lilly.

From an Original Picture in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

Beside—But as h' was running on,
To tell what other feats he'd done,
The lady stopt his full career, 405
And told him, now 'twas time to hear.
If half those things, said she, be true—
They're all, quoth he, I swear by you.
Why then, said she, that Sidrophel
Has damn'd himself to th' pit of hell, 410
Who, mounted on a broom, the nag^[52]
And hackney of a Lapland hag,
In quest of you came hither post,
Within an hour, I'm sure, at most,
Who told me all you swear and say, 415
Quite contrary, another way;
Vow'd that you came to him, to know
If you should carry me or no;
And would have hir'd him and his imps,
To be your match-makers and pimps, 420
T' engage the devil on your side,
And steal, like Proserpine, your bride;
But he, disdaining to embrace
So filthy a design, and base,
You fell to vapouring and huffing, 425
And drew upon him like a ruffian;
Surpris'd him meanly, unprepar'd,
Before he 'ad time to mount his guard,
And left him dead upon the ground,
With many a bruise and desperate wound; 430
Swore you had broke and robb'd his house,
And stole his talismanique louse,^[53]
And all his new-found old inventions,
With flat felonious intentions,
Which he could bring out, where he had, 435
And what he bought 'em for, and paid;
His flea, his morpion, and punese,^[54]
He 'ad gotten for his proper ease,
And all in perfect minutes made,
By th' ablest artists of the trade; 440
Which, he could prove it, since he lost,
He has been eaten up almost,
And altogether, might amount
To many hundreds on account;
For which he 'ad got sufficient warrant 445
To seize the malefactors errant,
Without capacity of bail,
But of a cart's or horse's tail;
And did not doubt to bring the wretches
To serve for pendulums to watches, 450
Which, modern virtuosi say,
Incline to hanging every way.^[55]
Beside, he swore, and swore 'twas true,
That ere he went in quest of you,
He set a figure to discover 455
If you were fled to Rye or Dover;
And found it clear, that to betray
Yourself and me, you fled this way;
And that he was upon pursuit,
To take you somewhere hereabout. 460
He vow'd he'd had intelligence
Of all that pass'd before and since;
And found, that ere you came to him,
Y' had been engaging life and limb
About a case of tender conscience, 465
Where both abounded in your own sense;
Till Ralpho, by his Light and Grace,
Had clear'd all scruples in the case,
And prov'd that you might swear, and own
Whatever's by the Wicked done: 470
For which, most basely to requite
The service of his Gifts and Light,
You strove t' oblige him, by main force,
To scourge his ribs instead of yours;
But that he stood upon his guard, 475
And all your vapouring outdar'd;
For which, between you both, the feat
Has never been perform'd as yet.
 While thus the lady talk'd, the Knight
Turn'd th' outside of his eyes to white; 480
As men of Inward Light are wont
To turn their optics in upon 't;^[56]
He wonder'd how she came to know
What he had done, and meant to do;
Held up his affidavit hand,^[57] 485
As if he 'd been to be arraign'd;
Cast tow'rds the door a ghastly look,
In dread of Sidrophel, and spoke:
 Madam, if but one word be true
Of all the wizard has told you, 490
Or but one single circumstance
In all th' apocryphal romance;
May dreadful earthquakes swallow down
This vessel, that is all your own;^[58]
Or may the heavens fall, and cover 495
These relics of your constant lover.^[59]
 You have provided well, quoth she,
I thank you, for yourself and me,
And shown your Presbyterian wits
Jump punctual^[60] with the Jesuits'; 500
A most compendious way, and civil,
At once to cheat the world, the devil,
With heaven and hell, yourselves, and those
On whom you vainly think t' impose.
⁠Why then, quoth: he, may hell surprise— 505
That trick, said she, will not pass twice:
I've learn'd how far I'm to believe
Your pinning oaths upon your sleeve;
But there's a better way of clearing
What you would prove, than downright swearing: 510
For if you have perform'd the feat,
The blows are visible as yet,
Enough to serve for satisfaction
Of nicest scruples in the action;
And if you can produce those knobs, 515
Altho' they're but the witch's drubs,
I'll pass them all upon account,
As if your nat'ral self had done 't;
Provided that they pass th' opinion
Of able juries of old women, 520
Who, us'd to judge all matter of facts
For bellies,^[61] may do so for backs.
 Madam, quoth he, your love's a million,
To do is less than to be willing,
As I am, were it in my power, 525
T' obey what you command, and more;
But for performing what you bid,
I thank you as much as if I did.
You know I ought to have a care
To keep my wounds from taking air; 530
For wounds in those that are all heart,
Are dangerous in any part.
 I find, quoth she, my goods and chattels
Are like to prove but mere drawn battles;
For still the longer we contend, 535
We are but farther off the end.
But granting now we should agree,
What is it you expect from me?
 Your plighted faith, quoth he, and word
You pass'd in heaven, on record, 540
Where all contracts to have and t' hold,
Are everlastingly enroll'd:
And if 'tis counted treason here^[62]
To raze records, 'tis much more there.
⁠Quoth she, There are no bargains driv'n, 545
Nor marriages clapp'd up in heav'n;^[63]
And that's the reason, as some guess,
There is no heav'n in marriages;
Two things that naturally press^[64]
Too narrowly, to be at ease: 550
Their bus'ness there is only love,
Which marriage is not like t' improve;^[65]
Love, that's too generous t' abide
To be against its nature tied;
For where 'tis of itself inclin'd, 555
It breaks loose when it is confin'd,^[66]
And like the soul, its harbourer,
Debarr'd the freedom of the air,
Disdains against its will to stay,
But struggles out, and flies away: 560
And therefore never can comply,
T' endure the matrimonial tie,
That binds the female and the male,
Where th' one is but the other's bail;^[67]
Like Roman gaolers, when they slept, 565
Chain'd to the prisoners they kept:^[68]
Of which the true and faithfull'st lover
Gives best security to suffer.
Marriage is but a beast, some say,^[69]
That carries double in foul way, 570
And therefore 'tis not to b' admir'd,
It should so suddenly be tir'd;
A bargain, at a venture made,
Between two partners in a trade:
For what's inferr'd by t' have and t' hold, 575
But something pass'd away and sold?^[70]
That, as it makes but one of two,
Reduces all things else as low;
And at the best is but a mart
Between the one and th' other part, 580
That on the marriage day is paid,
Or hour of death, the bet it laid;^[71]
And all the rest of bett'r or worse,
Both are but losers out of purse:
For when upon their ungot heirs 585
Th' entail themselves and all that's theirs,
What blinder bargain e'er was driven,
Or wager laid at six and seven?
To pass themselves away, and turn
Their children's tenants ere they're born? 590
Beg one another idiot
To guardians, ere they are begot;
Or ever shall, perhaps, by th' one
Who's bound to vouch 'em for his own,
Tho' got b' implicit generation,^[72] 595
And general club of all the nation;
For which she's fortified no less
Than all the island with four seas:^[73]
Exacts the tribute of her dower,
In ready insolence and power, 600
And makes him pass away, to have
And hold to her, himself, her slave,
More wretched than an ancient villain,^[74]
Condemn'd to drudgery and tilling;
While all he does upon the by, 605
She is not bound to justify,
Nor at her proper cost and charge
Maintain the feats he does at large.^[75]
Such hideous sots were those obedient
Old vassals to their ladies regent, 610
To give the cheats the eldest hand
In foul play, by the laws o' th' land,
For which so many a legal cuckold^[76]
Has been run down in courts, and truckled:
A law that most unjustly yokes 615
All Johns of Stiles to Joans of Nokes,^[77]
Without distinction of degree,
Condition, age, or quality;
Admits no pow'r of revocation,
Nor valuable consideration, 620
Nor writ of error, nor reverse
Of judgment past, for better or worse;
Will not allow the privileges
That beggars challenge under hedges,
Who, when they're griev'd, can make dead horses 625
Their spiritual judges of divorces;^[78]
While nothing else but rem in re,
Can set the proudest wretches free;
A slavery beyond enduring,
But that 'tis of their own procuring. 630
As spiders never seek the fly,
But leave him, of himself, t' apply;
So men are by themselves betray'd,
To quit the freedom they enjoy'd,
And run their necks into a noose, 635
They'd break 'em after to break loose.
As some, whom death would not depart,^[79]
Have done the feat themselves by art.
Like Indian widows, gone to bed
In flaming curtains to the dead;^[80] 640
And men has often dangled for 't,
And yet will never leave the sport.
Nor do the ladies want excuse
For all the stratagems they use,
To gain th' advantage of the set,^[81] 645
And lurch the amorous rook and cheat.
For as the Pythagorean soul
Runs thro' all beasts, and fish, and fowl,^[82]
And has a smack of ev'ry one,
So love does, and has ever done; 650
And therefore, though 'tis ne'er so fond,^[83]
Takes strangely to the vagabond.
'Tis but an ague that's reverst,
Whose hot fit takes the patient first,
That after burns with cold as much 655
As iron in Greenland does the touch;^[84]
Melts in the furnace of desire,
Like glass, that's but the ice of fire;
And when his heat of fancy's over,
Becomes as hard and frail a lover:^[85] 660
For when he's with love-powder laden,
And prim'd and cock'd by Miss or Madam,
The smallest sparkle of an eye
Gives fire to his artillery,
And off the loud oaths go, but, while 665
They're in the very act, recoil:
Hence 'tis so few dare take their chance
Without a sep'rate maintenance;
And widows, who have try'd one lover,
Trust none again 'till they 've made over;^[86] 670
Or if they do, before they marry,
The foxes weigh the geese they carry;^[87]
And ere they venture o'er a stream,
Know how to size themselves and them.
Whence wittiest ladies always choose 675
To undertake the heaviest goose:
For now the world is grown so wary,
That few of either sex dare marry,
But rather trust, on tick, t' amours,
The cross and pile, for better or worse;^[88] 680
A mode that is held honourable,
As well as French, and fashionable:
For when it falls out for the best,
Where both are incommoded least,
In soul and body two unite, 685
To make up one hermaphrodite,
Still amorous, and fond, and billing,
Like Philip and Mary on a shilling,^[89]
They 've more punctilios and capriches
Between the petticoat and breeches, 690
More petulant extravagances,
Than poets make 'em in romances;
Tho', when their heroes 'spouse the dames,
We hear no more of charms and flames;
For then their late attracts decline, 695
And turn as eager as prick'd wine;
And all their catterwauling tricks,
In earnest to as jealous piques;
Which th' ancients wisely signify'd
By th' yellow mantos of the bride.^[90] 700
For jealousy is but a kind
Of clap and grincam of the mind,^[91]
The natural effects of love,
As other flames and aches^[92] prove:
But all the mischief is, the doubt 705
On whose account they first broke out;
For tho' Chineses go to bed,
And lie-in in their ladies' stead,^[93]
And, for the pains they took before,
Are nurs'd and pamper'd to do more; 710
Our green-men^[94] do it worse, when th' hap
To fall in labour of a clap;
Both lay the child to one another,
But who's the father, who the mother,
'Tis hard to say in multitudes, 715
Or who imported the French goods.^[95]
But health and sickness b'ing all one,
Which both engag'd before to own,^[96]
And are not with their bodies bound
To worship, only when they're sound, 720
Both give and take their equal shares
Of all they suffer by false wares;
A fate no lover can divert
With all his caution, wit, and art:
For 'tis in vain to think to guess 725
At women by appearances,
That paint and patch their imperfections
Of intellectual complexions,
And daub their tempers o'er with washes
As artificial as their faces; 730
Wear under vizard-masks^[97] their talents
And mother-wits before their gallants;
Until they're hamper'd in the noose,
Too fast to dream of breaking loose:
When all the flaws they strove to hide 735
Are made unready with the bride,
That with her wedding-clothes undresses
Her complaisance and gentilesses;
Tries all her arts to take upon her
The government, from th' easy owner; 740
Until the wretch is glad to wave
His lawful right, and turn her slave;
Finds all his having and his holding
Reduc'd t' eternal noise and scolding;
The conjugal petard, that tears 745
Down all portcullices of ears,^[98]
And makes the volley of one tongue
For all their leathern shields too strong;
When only arm'd with noise and nails,
The female silkworms ride the males,^[99] 750
Transform 'em into rams and goats,
Like syrens, with their charming notes;^[100]
Sweet as a screech-owl's serenade,
Or those enchanting murmurs made
By th' husband mandrake, and the wife, 755
Both buried, like themselves, alive.^[101]
 Quoth he, these reasons are but strains
Of wanton, over-heated brains,
Which ralliers in their wit or drink
Do rather wheedle with, than think. 760
Man was not man in paradise,
Until he was created twice,
And had his better half, his bride,
Carv'd from th' original, his side,^[102]
T' amend his natural defects, 765
And perfect his recruited sex;
Enlarge his breed, at once, and lessen
The pains and labour of increasing,
By changing them for other cares,
As by his dried-up paps appears. 770
His body, that stupendous frame,
Of all the world the anagram,^[103]
Is of two equal parts compact,
In shape and symmetry exact.
Of which the left and female side 775
Is to the manly right a bride,^[104]
Both join'd together with such art,
That nothing else but death can part.
Those heav'nl' attracts of yours, your eyes,
And face, that all the world surprise, 780
That dazzle all that look upon ye,
And scorch all other ladies tawny:
Those ravishing and charming graces,
Are all made up of two half faces
That, in a mathematic line, 785
Like those in other heavens, join;^[105]
Of which, if either grew alone,
'Twould fright as much to look upon:
And so would that sweet bud, your lip,
Without the other's fellowship. 790
Our noblest senses act by pairs,
Two eyes to see, to hear two ears;
Th' intelligencers of the mind,
To wait upon the soul design'd:
But those that serve the body alone, 795
Are single and confin'd to one.
The world is but two parts, that meet
And close at th' equinoctial fit;
And so are all the works of nature,
Stamp'd with her signature on matter; 800
Which all her creatures, to a leaf,
Or smallest blade of grass, receive.^[106]
All which sufficiently declare
How entirely marriage is her care,
The only method that she uses, 805
In all the wonders she produces;
And those that take their rules from her
Can never be deceiv'd, nor err:
For what secures the civil life,
But pawns of children, and a wife?^[107] 810
That lie, like hostages, at stake,
To pay for all men undertake;
To whom it is as necessary
As to be born and breathe, to marry;
So universal, all mankind 815
In nothing else is of one mind:
For in what stupid age, or nation,
Was marriage ever out of fashion?
Unless among the Amazons,^[108]
Or cloister'd friars and vestal nuns, 820
Or Stoics, who, to bar the freaks
And loose excesses of the sex,
Prepost'rously would have all women
Turn'd up to all the world in common;^[109]
Tho' men would find such mortal feuds 825
In sharing of their public goods,
'Twould put them to more charge of lives,
Than they're supply'd with now by wives;
Until they graze, and wear their clothes,
As beasts do, of their native growths:^[110] 830
For simple wearing of their horns
Will not suffice to serve their turns.
For what can we pretend t' inherit,
Unless the marriage deed will bear it?
Could claim no right to lands or rents, 835
But for our parents' settlements;
Had been but younger sons o' th' earth,
Debarr'd it all, but for our birth.^[111]
What honours, or estates of peers,
Could be preserv'd but by their heirs? 840
And what security maintains
Their right and title, but the banns?
What crowns could be hereditary,
If greatest monarchs did not marry,
And with their consorts consummate 845
Their weightiest interests of state?
For all th' amours of princes are
But guarantees of peace or war.
Or what but marriage has a charm,
The rage of empires to disarm? 850
Make blood and desolation cease,
And fire and sword unite in peace,
When all their fierce contests for forage
Conclude in articles of marriage?
Nor does the genial bed provide 855
Less for the int'rests of the bride,
Who else had not the least pretence
T' as much as due benevolence;
Could no more title take upon her
To virtue, quality, and honour, 860
Than ladies errant, unconfin'd,
And femme-coverts to all mankind.
All women would be of one piece,
The virtuous matron, and the miss;
The nymphs of chaste Diana's train 865
The same with those in Lewkner's-lane,^[112]
But for the diff'rence marriage makes
'Twixt wives and Ladies of the Lakes:^[113]
Besides, the joys of place and birth,
The sex's paradise on earth,^[114] 870
A privilege so sacred held,
That none will to their mothers yield;
But rather than not go before,
Abandon heaven at the door:^[115]
And if th' indulgent law allows 875
A greater freedom to the spouse,
The reason is, because the wife
Runs greater hazards of her life;
Is trusted with the form and matter
Of all mankind, by careful nature, 880
Where man brings nothing but the stuff
She frames the wond'rous fabric of;
Who therefore, in a strait, may freely
Demand the clergy of her belly,^[116]
And make it save her the same way, 885
It seldom misses to betray;
Unless both parties wisely enter
Into the liturgy-indenture.^[117]
And tho' some fits of small contest
Sometimes fall out among the best, 890
That is no more than ev'ry lover
Does from his hackney lady suffer;
That makes no breach of faith and love,
But rather, sometimes, serves t'improve;
For as, in running, ev'ry pace 895
Is but between two legs a race,
In which both do their uttermost
To get before, and win the post;
Yet when they're at their race's ends,
They're still as kind and constant friends, 900
And, to relieve their weariness,
By turns give one another ease;
So all those false alarms of strife
Between the husband and the wife,
And little quarrels, often prove 905
To be but new recruits of love;^[118]
When those who're always kind or coy,^[119]
In time must either tire or cloy.
Nor are their loudest clamours more
Than as they're relish'd, sweet or sour; 910
Like music, that proves bad or good,
According as 'tis understood.
In all amours a lover burns
With frowns, as well as smiles, by turns;
And hearts have been as oft with sullen, 915
As charming looks, surpris'd and stolen:
Then why should more bewitching clamour
Some lovers not as much enamour?
For discords make the sweetest airs,
And curses are a kind of pray'rs; 920
Too slight alloys for all those grand
Felicities by marriage gain'd:
For nothing else has pow'r to settle
Th' interests of love perpetual;
An act and deed that makes one heart 925
Become another's counter-part,
And passes fines on faith and love,^[120]
Inroll'd and register'd above,
To seal the slippery knots of vows,
Which nothing else but death can loose. 930
And what security's too strong
To guard that gentle heart from wrong,
That to its friend is glad to pass
Itself away, and all it has,
And, like an anchorite, gives over 935
This world, for th' heav'n of a lover?^[121]
 I grant, quoth she, there are some few
Who take that course, and find it true;
But millions, whom the same does sentence
To heav'n b' another way, repentance. 940
Love's arrows are but shot at rovers,^[122]
Tho' all they hit they turn to lovers,
And all the weighty consequents
Depend upon more blind events
Than gamesters when they play a set, 945
With greatest cunning, at piquet,
Put out with caution, but take in
They know not what, unsight, unseen.
For what do lovers, when they're fast
In one another's arms embrac'd, 950
But strive to plunder, and convey
Each other, like a prize, away?
To change the property of selves,
As sucking children are by elves?^[123]
And if they use their persons so, 955
What will they to their fortunes do?
Their fortunes! the perpetual aims
Of all their extasies and flames.
For when the money's on the book,
And "all my worldly goods"—but spoke,^[124] 960
The formal livery and seisin
That puts a lover in possession,
To that alone the bridegroom's wedded,
The bride a flam that's superseded;
To that their faith is still made good, 965
And all the oaths to us they vow'd;
For when we once resign our pow'rs,
We've nothing left we can call ours:
Our money's now become the miss
Of all your lives and services; 970
And we forsaken and postpon'd,
But bawds to what before we own'd;
Which, as it made y' at first gallant us,
So now hires others to supplant us,
Until 'tis all turn'd out of doors, 975
As we had been, for new amours.
For what did ever heiress yet
By being born to lordships get?
When the more lady she's of manors,
She's but expos'd to more trepanners, 980
Pays for their projects and designs,
And for her own destruction fines;^[125]
And does but tempt them with her riches,
To use her as the dev'l does witches,
Who takes it for a special grace, 985
To be their cully for a space,
That, when the time's expir'd, the drazels^[126]
For ever may become his vassals:
So she, bewitch'd by rooks and spirits,
Betrays herself, and all sh' inherits; 990
Is bought and sold, like stolen goods,
By pimps, and match-makers, and bawds;
Until they force her to convey
And steal the thief himself away.
These are the everlasting fruits 995
Of all your passionate love-suits,
Th' effects of all your am'rous fancies,
To portions and inheritances;
Your love-sick raptures for fruition
Of dowry, jointure, and tuition; 1000
To which you make address and courtship,
And with your bodies strive to worship,
That th' infant's fortunes may partake
Of love too,^[127] for the mother's sake.
For these you play at purposes, 1005
And love your loves with A's and B's;^[128]
For these, at Beast and l'Ombre woo,^[129]
And play for love and money too;^[130]
Strive who shall be the ablest man
At right gallanting of a fan; 1010
And who the most genteelly bred
At sucking of a vizard-bead;^[131]
How best t' accost us in all quarters,
T' our Question and Command new garters;^[132]
And solidly discourse upon 1015
All sorts of dresses pro and con:
For there's no mystery nor trade,
But in the art of love is made.^[133]
And when yon have more debts to pay
Than Michaelmas and Lady-day,^[134] 1020
And no way possible to do 't
But love and oaths, and restless suit,
To us y' apply, to pay the scores
Of all your cully'd past amours;
Act o'er your flames and darts again, 1025
And charge us with your wounds and pain;
Which others' influences long since
Have charm'd your noses with, and shins;
For which the surgeon is unpaid,
And like to be, without our aid. 1030
Lord! what an am'rous thing is want!
How debts and mortgages enchant!
What graces must that lady have,
That can from executions save!
What charms, that can reverse extent, 1035
And null degree and exigent!
What magical attracts, and graces,
That can redeem from scire facias!^[135]
From bonds and statutes can discharge,
And from contempts of courts enlarge! 1040
These are the highest excellencies
Of all your true or false pretences;
And you would damn yourselves and swear
As much t' an hostess dowager,
Grown fat and pursy by retail 1045
Of pots of beer and bottled ale,
And find her fitter for your turn,
For fat is wondrous apt to burn;
Who at your flames would soon take fire,
Relent, and melt to your desire, 1050
And, like a candle in the socket,
Dissolves her graces int' your pocket.
 By this time 'twas grown dark and late,
When th' heard a knocking at the gate
Laid on in haste, with such a powder,^[136] 1055
The blows grew louder and still louder:
Which Hudibras, as if they'd been
Bestow'd as freely on his skin,
Expounding hy his Inward Light,
Or rather more prophetic fright, 1060
To be the wizard, come to search,
And take him napping in the lurch,
Turn'd pale as ashes, or a clout;
But why, or wherefore, is a doubt:
For men will tremble, and turn paler, 1065
With too much, or too little valour.
His heart laid on, as if it tried
To force a passage through his side,
Impatient, as he vow'd, to wait 'em;
But in a fury to fly at 'em; 1070
And therefore beat, and laid about,
To find a cranny to creep out.
But she, who saw in what a taking
The Knight was by his furious quaking,
Undaunted cry'd. Courage, Sir Knight, 1075
Know I'm resolv'd to break no rite
Of hospitality t' a stranger;
But, to secure you out of danger,
Will here myself stand sentinel,
To guard this pass 'gainst Sidrophel: 1080
Women, you know, do seldom fail,
To make the stoutest men turn tail,
And bravely scorn to turn their backs,
Upon the desp'ratest attacks.
At this the Knight grew resolute, 1085
As Ironside, or Hardiknute;^[137]
His fortitude began to rally,
And out he cry'd aloud, to sally;
But she besought him to convey
His courage rather out o' th' way, 1090
And lodge in ambush out of the floor,
Or fortified behind a door,
That, if the enemy should enter,
He might relieve her in th' adventure.
⁠Meanwhile they knock'd against the door 1095
As fierce as at the gate before;
Which made the renegado Knight
Relapse again t' his former fright.
He thought it desperate to stay
Till the enemy had forc'd his way, 1100
But rather post himself to serve
The lady for a fresh reserve.
His duty was not to dispute,
But what she'd order'd execute;
Which he resolv'd in haste t' obey, 1105
And therefore stoutly march'd away,
And all h' encounter'd fell upon,
Tho' in the dark, and all alone:
Till fear, that braver feats performs
Than ever courage dar'd in arms, 1110
Had drawn him up before a pass,
To stand upon his guard, and face:
This he courageously invaded,
And, having enter'd, barricado'd;
Ensconc'd himself as formidable 1115
As could be underneath a table;
Where he lay down in ambush close,
T' expect th' arrival of his foes.
Few minutes he had lain perdue,
To guard his desp'rate avenue, 1120
Before he heard a dreadful shout,
As loud as putting to the rout,
With which impatiently alarm'd,
He fancied th' enemy had storm'd,
And after ent'ring, Sidrophel 1125
Was fall'n upon the guards pell-mell;
He therefore sent out all his senses
To bring him in intelligences,
Which vulgars, out of ignorance,
Mistake for falling in a trance; 1130
But those that trade in geomancy,^[138]
Affirm to be the strength of fancy;
In which the Lapland magi deal,^[139]
And things incredible reveal.
Meanwhile the foe beat up his quarters, 1135
And storm'd the outworks of his fortress;
And as another of the same
Degree and party, in arms and fame,
That in the same cause had engag'd
And war with equal conduct wag'd, 1140
By vent'ring only but to thrust
His head a span beyond his post,
B' a gen'ral of the cavaliers
Was dragg'd thro' a window by the ears:^[140]
So he was serv'd in his redoubt, 1145
And by the other end pull'd out.
 Soon as they had him at their mercy,
They put him to the cudgel fiercely,
As if they scorn'd to trade and barter,
By giving, or by taking quarter: 1150
They stoutly on his quarters laid,
Until his scouts came in t' his aid:
For when a man is past his sense,
There's no way to reduce him thence,
But twingeing him by th' ears or nose, 1155
Or laying on of heavy blows:
And if that will not do the deed,
To burning with hot irons proceed.^[141]
 No sooner was he come t' himself,
But on his neck a sturdy elf 1160
Clapp'd in a trice his cloven hoof,
And thus attack'd him with reproof:
 Mortal, thou art betray'd to us
B' our friend, thy evil genius,
Who for thy horrid perjuries, 1165
Thy breach of faith, and turning lies,
The brethren's privilege against
The wicked, on themselves, the saints,
Has here thy wretched carcass sent,
For just revenge and punishment; 1170
Which thou hast now no way to lessen,
But by an open, free confession:^[142]
For if we catch thee failing once,
'Twill fall the heavier on thy bones.
⁠What made thee venture to betray, 1175
And filch the lady's heart away,
To spirit her to matrimony?—
 That which contracts all matches, money.
It was th' enchantment of her riches,
That made m' apply t' your crony witches;^[143] 1180
That in return would pay th' expense,
The wear and tear of conscience,^[144]
Which I could have patch'd up, and turn'd,
For th' hundredth part of what I earn'd.
⁠Didst thou not love her then? Speak true. 1185
No more, quoth he, than I love you.—
 How would'st thou've us'd her, and her money?
First turn'd her up to alimony;^[145]
And laid her dowry out in law,
To null her jointure with a flaw, 1190
Which I beforehand had agreed
T' have put, on purpose, in the deed,
And bar her widow's-making-over
T' a friend in trust, or private lover.
⁠What made thee pick and chuse her out 1195
T' employ their sorceries about?—
 That which makes gamesters play with those
Who have least wit, and most to lose.
 But didst thou scourge thy vessel thus,
As thou hast damn'd thyself to us?— 1200
I see you take me for an ass:
'Tis true, I thought the trick would pass
Upon a woman well enough.
As 't has been often found by proof;
Whose humours are not to be won 1210
But when they are impos'd upon;
For love approves of all they do
That stand for candidates, and woo.
 Why didst thou forge those shameful lies
Of bears and witches in disguise?— 1210
 That is no more than authors give
The rabble credit to believe;
A trick of following their leaders,
To entertain their gentle readers;
And we have now no other way 1215
Of passing all we do or say;
Which, when 'tis natural and true,
Will be believ'd b' a very few,
Beside the danger of offence,
The fatal enemy of sense. 1220
 Why dost thou chuse that cursed sin,
Hypocrisy, to set up in?—
 Because it is the thriving'st calling,
The only saints' bell that rings all in;^[146]
In which all churches are concern'd, 1225
And is the easiest to be learn'd:
For no degrees, unless th' employ it,
Can ever gain much, or enjoy it.
A gift that is not only able
To domineer among the rabble, 1230
But by the laws empower'd to rout,
And awe the greatest that stand out;
Which few hold forth against, for fear
Their hands should slip, and come too near;
For no sin else, among the saints, 1235
Is taught so tenderly against.
 What made thee break thy plighted vows?—
That which makes others break a house,
And hang, and scorn ye all, before
Endure the plague of being poor. 1240
 Quoth he, I see you have more tricks
Than all our doating politics,
That are grown old and out of fashion,
Compar'd with your new Reformation;
That we must come to school to you, 1245
To learn your more refin'd and new.
 Quoth he, If you will give me leave
To tell you what I now perceive,
You'll find yourself an arrant chouse,
If y' were but at a Meeting-house. 1250
 'Tis true, quoth he, we ne'er come there,
Because w' have let 'em out by th' year.^[147]
 Truly, quoth he, you can't imagine
What wond'rous things they will engage in;
That as your fellow-fiends in hell 1255
Were angels all before they fell,
So are you like to be agen,
Compar'd with th' angels of us men.^[148]
 Quoth he, I am resolv'd to be
Thy scholar in this mystery; 1260
And therefore first desire to know
Some principles on which you go.
 What makes a knave a child of God,^[149]
And one of us?^[150]—A livelihood.
⁠What renders beating out of brains 1265
And murder, godliness?—Great gains.
 What's tender conscience?—'Tis a botch
That will not bear the gentlest touch;
But, breaking out, dispatches more
Than th' epidemical'st plague-sore.^[151] 1270
 What makes y' encroach upon our trade,
And damn all others?—To be paid.
 What's orthodox and true believing
Against a conscience?—A good living.^[152]
⁠What makes rebelling against kings 1275
A Good Old Cause?—Administ'rings.^[153]
 What makes all doctrines plain and clear?—
About two hundred pounds a year.
 And that which was prov'd true before,
Prove false again?—Two hundred more. 1280
 What makes the breaking of all oaths
A holy duty?—Food and clothes.
 What laws and freedom, persecution?—
B'ing out of power, and contribution.
 What makes a church a den of thieves?— 1285
A dean and chapter, and white sleeves.^[154]
 And what would serve, if those were gone,
To make it orthodox?—Our own.
What makes morality a crime,^[155]
The most notorious of the time; 1290
Morality, which both the saints
And wicked too cry out against?—
 'Cause grace and virtue are within
Prohibited degrees of kin;
And therefore no true saint allows 1295
They should be suffer'd to espouse:
For saints can need no conscience,
That with morality dispense;
As virtue's impious, when 'tis rooted
In nature only, 'nd not imputed: 1300
But why the wicked should do so,
We neither know, nor care to do.
 What's liberty of conscience,
I th' natural and genuine sense?
 'Tis to restore, with more security, 1305
Rebellion to its ancient purity;
And Christian liberty reduce
To th' elder practice of the Jews;
For a large conscience is all one,
And signifies the same, with none.^[156] 1310
 It is enough, quoth he, for once,
And has repriev'd thy forfeit bones:
Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick
Tho' he gave his name to our Old Nick,^[157]
But was below the least of these, 1315
That pass i' th' world for holiness.
 This said, the furies and the light
In th' instant vanish'd out of sight,
And left him in the dark alone,
With stinks of brimstone and his own. 1320
 The Queen of night, whose large command
Rules all the sea, and half the land,^[158]
And over moist and crazy brains,
In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns,^[159]
Was now declining to the west, 1325
To go to bed and take her rest;
When Hudibras, whose stubborn blows
Deny'd his bones that soft repose,
Lay still expecting worse and more,
Stretch'd out at length upon the floor; 1330
And tho' he shut his eyes as fast
As if he'd been to sleep his last,
Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards,
Do make the devil wear for vizards;
And pricking up his ears, to hark 1335
If he could hear, too, in the dark,
Was first invaded with a groan,
And after, in a feeble tone,
These trembling words: Unhappy wretch,
What hast thou gotten by this fetch, 1340

R. Cooper sculp^t.

Niccolo Macchiavelli.

From a Print by Raphael Morghen after a Picture by Bronzino.

Or all thy tricks, in this new trade,
Thy holy brotherhood o' th' blade?^[160]
By saunt'ring still on some adventure,
And growing to thy horse a centaur?^[161]
To stuff thy skin with swelling knobs 1345
Of cruel and hard-wooded drubs?
For still thou'st had the worst on't yet,
As well in conquest as defeat:
Night is the sabbath of mankind,
To rest the body and the mind, 1350
Which now thou art deny'd to keep,
And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep.
 The Knight, who heard the words, explain'd
As meant to him this reprimand,
Because the character did hit 1355
Point-blank upon his case so fit;
Believ'd it was some drolling spright
That staid upon the guard that night,
And one of those he'd seen, and felt
The drubs he had so freely dealt; 1360
When, after a short pause and groan,
The doleful spirit thus went on:
 This 'tis t' engage with dogs and bears
Pell-mell together by the ears.
And after painful bangs and knocks, 1365
To lie in limbo in the stocks,
And from the pinnacle of glory
Fall headlong into purgatory;
(Thought he, this devil's full of malice,
That on my late disasters rallies.) 1370
Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it,
By being more heroic-minded;
And at a riding handled worse,
With treats more slovenly and coarse:^[162]
Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars, 1375
And hot disputes with conjurers;
And, when thou 'dst bravely won the day,
Wast fain to steal thyself away—
(I see, thought he, this shameless elf
Would fain steal me too from myself,^[163] 1380
That impudently dares to own
What I have suffer'd for and done);
And now, but vent'ring to betray,
Hast met with vengeance the same way.
⁠Thought he, how does the devil know 1385
What 'twas that I design'd to do?
His office of intelligence,
His oracles, are ceas'd long since;^[164]
And he knows nothing of the saints,
But what some treach'rous spy acquaints. 1390
This is some pettifogging fiend,
Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,
That undertakes to understand,
And juggles at the second-hand,
And now would pass for Spirit Po,^[165] 1395
And all men's dark concerns foreknow.
I think I need not fear him for't;
These rallying devils do no hurt.^[166]
With that he rous'd his drooping heart,
And hastily cry'd out, What art?— 1400
 A wretch, quoth he, whom want of grace
Has brought to this unhappy place.
 I do believe thee, quoth the Knight;
Thus far I'm sure thou'rt in the right;
And know what 'tis that troubles thee, 1405
Better than thou hast guess'd of me.
Thou art some paltry, blackguard spright,
Condemn'd to drudg'ry in the night;
Thou hast no work to do i' th' house,
Nor halfpenny to drop in shoes;^[167] 1410
Without the raising of which sum
You dare not be so troublesome
To pinch the slatterns black and blue,
For leaving you their work to do.
This is your bus'ness, good Pug-Robin,^[168] 1415
And your diversion dull dry bobbing,
T' entice fanatics in the dirt,
And wash 'em clean in ditches for't;
Of which conceit you are so proud,
At ev'ry jest you laugh aloud, 1420
As now you would have done by me,
But that I barr'd your raillery.
 Sir, quoth the Voice, ye're no such sophy^[169]
As you would have the world judge of ye.
If you design to weigh our talents 1425
I' th' standard of your own false balance,
Or think it possible to know
Us ghosts, as well as we do you,
We who have been the everlasting
Companions of your drubs and basting, 1430
And never left you in contest,
With male or female, man or beast,
But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire,
In all adventures, as your Squire.
⁠Quoth he, That may be said as true, 1435
By th' idlest pug of all your crew;
For none could have betray'd us worse
Than those allies of ours and yours.^[170]
But I have sent him for a token
To your low-country Hogen-Mogen, 1440
To whose infernal shores I hope
He'll swing like skippers^[171] in a rope:
And if ye've been more just to me,
As I am apt to think, than he,
I am afraid it is as true 1445
What th' ill-affected say of you:
Ye've 'spous'd the Covenant and Cause
By holding up your cloven paws.^[172]
 Sir, quoth the Voice, 'tis true, I grant,^[173]
We made, and took the Covenant: 1450
But that no more concerns the Cause,
Than other perj'ries do the laws,
Which, when they're prov'd in open court,
Wear wooden peccadillos for't:^[174]
And that's the reason Cov'nanters 1455
Hold^[175] up their hands, like rogues at bars.
 I see, quoth Hudibras, from whence
These scandals of the saints commence,^[176]
That are but natural effects
Of Satan's malice, and his sects, 1460
Those spider-saints, that hang by threads
Spun out o' th' entrails of their heads.
 Sir, quoth the Voice, that may as true^[177]
And properly be said of you,
Whose talents may compare with either,^[178] 1465
Or both the other put together:
For all the Independents do,
Is only what you forc'd 'em to;
You, who are not content alone
With tricks to put the devil down. 1470
But must have armies rais'd to back
The Gospel-work you undertake;
As if artillery and edge-tools,
Were th' only engines to save souls:
While he, poor devil, has no pow'r^[179] 1475
By force to run down and devour;
Has ne'er a Classis, cannot sentence
To stools, or poundage of repentance;
Is ty'd up only to design,
T' entice, and tempt, and undermine: 1480
In which you all his arts outdo,
And prove yourselves his betters too.
Hence 'tis possessions do less evil
Than mere temptations of the devil,^[180]
Which, all the horrid'st actions done, 1485
Are charg'd in courts of law upon;^[181]
Because, unless they^[182] help the elf,
He can do little of himself;
And, therefore, where he's best possest
Acts most against his interest; 1490
Surprises none but those who've priests
To turn him out, and exorcists,
Supply'd with spiritual provision,
And magazines of ammunition;
With crosses, relics, crucifixes, 1495
Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes;
The tools of working our salvation
By mere mechanic operation:
With holy water, like a sluice,
To overflow all avenues: 1500
But those who're utterly unarm'd,
T' oppose his entrance, if he storm'd,
He never offers to surprise,
Altho' his falsest enemies;^[183]
But is content to be their drudge, 1505
And on their errands glad to trudge:
For where are all your forfeitures
Intrusted in safe hands, but ours?
Who are but jailors of the holes
And dungeons where you clap up souls;^[184] 1510
Like under-keepers, turn the keys,
T' your mittimus anathemas,
And never boggle to restore
The members you deliver o'er
Upon demand, with fairer justice, 1515
Than all you Covenanting Trustees;^[185]
Unless, to punish them the worse,
You put them in the secular powers,
And pass their souls, as some demise
The same estate in mortgage twice:^[186] 1520
When to a legal utlegation
You turn your excommunication,^[187]
And, for a groat unpaid that's due,
Distrain on soul and body too.^[188]
⁠Thought he, 'tis no mean part of civil 1525
State-prudence to cajole the devil,
And not to handle him too rough,
When h' has us in his cloven hoof.
⁠'Tis true, quoth he, that intercourse
Has pass'd between your friends and ours, 1530
That, as you trust us, in our way,
To raise your members, and to lay,^[189]
We send you others of our own,
Denounc'd to hang themselves, or drown,^[190]
Or, frighted with our oratory, 1535
To leap down headlong many a story;
Have us'd all means to propagate
Your mighty interests of state,
Laid out our sp'ritual gifts to further
Your great designs of rage and murther: 1540
For if the saints are nam'd from blood,
We onl' have made that title good;^[191]
And, if it were but in our power,
We should not scruple to do more,
And not be half a soul behind 1545
Of all dissenters of mankind.
 Right, quoth the Voice, and, as I scorn
To be ungrateful, in return
Of all those kind good offices,
I'll free you out of this distress, 1550
And set you down in safety, where
It is no time to tell you here.
The cock crows,^[192] and the morn draws on,
When 'tis decreed I must be gone;
And if I leave you here till day, 1555
You'll find it hard to get away.
 With that the Spirit grop'd about
To find th' enchanted hero out,
And try'd with haste to lift him up,
But found his forlorn hope, his crup,^[193] 1560
Unserviceable with kicks and blows,
Receiv'd from harden'd-hearted foes.
He thought to drag him by the heels,
Like Gresham-carts, with legs for wheels;^[194]
But fear, that soonest cures those sores, 1565
In danger of relapse to worse,
Came in t' assist him with its aid,
And up his sinking vessel weigh'd.
No sooner was he fit to trudge,
But both made ready to dislodge; 1570
The Spirit hors'd him like a sack,
Upon the vehicle his back,
And bore him headlong into th' hall,
With some few rubs against the wall;
Where, finding out the postern lock'd, 1575
And th' avenues as strongly block'd,
H' attack'd the window, storm'd the glass,
And in a moment gain'd the pass;
Thro' which he dragg'd the worsted soldier's
Four-quarters out by th' head and shoulders, 1580
And cautiously began to scout
To find their fellow-cattle out;
Nor was it half a minute's quest,
Ere he retriev'd the champion's beast,
Ty'd to a pale, instead of rack, 1585
But ne'er a saddle on his back,
Nor pistols at the saddle-bow,
Convey'd away, the Lord knows how.
He thought it was no time to stay,
And let the night too steal away; 1590

But, in a trice, advanc'd the Knight
Upon the bare ridge, bolt upright,
And, groping out for Ralpho's jade.
He found the saddle too was stray'd,
And in the place a lump of soap, 1595
On which he speedily leap'd up;
And. turning to the gate the rein,
He kick'd and cudgell'd on amain;
While Hudibras, with equal haste,
On both sides laid about as fast, 1600
And spurr'd, as jockies use, to break,
Or padders to secure, a neck:^[195]
Where let us leave 'em for a time,
And to their churches turn our rhyme;
To hold forth their declining state, 1605
Which now come near an even rate.^[196]

 

1. That is, surrender, or give up: from the French rendre.
2. This was one of the extravagant follies of Caligula. He assumed to be a god and boasted of embracing the moon. See Suetonius, Life of Caligula (Bohn's edit. p. 266).
3. The meaning is, that when men have flattered their mistresses extravagantly, and declared them to be more than human, they must not be surprised or complain, if they are treated in return with that distant reserve which superior beings may rightly exercise towards inferior creatures.
4. Drowned themselves. Objects reflected by water appear nearly the same as when they are viewed through the windows of a room so high from the ground that it dazzles to look down from it. Thus Juvenal, Sat. vi. v. 31, Altæ caligantesque fenestræ: which Holyday translates, dazzling high windows.
5. The heroes of romance endeavoured to conciliate the affections of their mistresses by the fame of their illustrious exploits. So was Desdemona won. Othello, Act i.,

   "She lov'd me for the dangers I had past."

6. Ordeal comes from the Anglo-Saxon ordal, and signifies judgement. The methods of trial by fire, water, or combat, were in use till the time of Henry III., and the right of exercising them was annexed to several lordships or manors, At this day, when a culprit is arraigned at the bar, and asked how he will be tried, he is directed to answer, "by God and my country," by the verdict or solemn opinion of a jury. "By God" only, would formerly have meant the ordeal, which referred the case immediately to the divine judgment.
7. In former times, when scholarship was rare and almost confined to priests, a person who was tried for any capital crime, except treason or sacrilege, might obtain an acquittal by praying his clergy; the meaning of which was to call for a Latin Bible, and read a passage in it, generally selected from the Psalms. If he exhibited this capacity, the ordinary certified quod legit, and he was saved as a person of learning, who might be useful to the state; otherwise he was hanged. Hence the saying among the people, that if they could not read their neck-verse at sessions, they must sing it at the gallows, it being customary to give out a psalm to be sung preliminary to the execution.
8. In the use of this term the saints unwittingly concurred with the old philosophers, who also called the body a vessel.
9. Some editions read fritters; but the corrected one of 1678 has fitters, a phrase often used by romance writers, very frequently by the author of the Romaunt of Romaunts. Fitters signifies small fragments, from fetta, Ital., fetzen, Germ.
10. The bull-fights at Madrid have been frequently described. The ladies have always taken a zealous part at these combats.
11. That is, large and small pockets. Poke from poche, a large pocket, bag, or sack. So "a pig in a poke."
12. Knick-knacks, or trinkets. See Wright's Glossary.
13. The mutual accusations of the Knight and Sidrophel, if established, might hang both of them. Halter-proof is to be in no danger from a halter, as musket-proof is to be in no danger from a musket: to render neither halter-proof is to leave both in danger of being hanged.
14. Ralpho considers that he should not have escaped the whipping intended for him by the Knight, if their dispute had not been interrupted by the riding-show, or skimmington.
15. The author has long had an eye to the selfishness and treachery of the leading parties, the Presbyterians and Independents. A few lines below he speaks more plainly:
    In which both dealt, as if they meant
    Their party saints to represent,
    Who never fail'd, upon their sharing
    In any prosperous arms-bearing,
    To lay themselves out to supplant
    Each other cousin-german saint.
    
    
    The reader will remember that Hudibras represents the Presbyterians, and Ralpho the the Independents: this scene therefore alludes to the manner in which the latter supplanted the former in the civil war.
16. To swear he had undergone the stipulated whipping, and then demand the performance of her part of the bargain.
17. His honour and conscience, which might forfeit some of their immunities by perjury, as the outward ears do for the same crime in the sentence of the statute law.
18. Thus in Hamlet, Act ii. sc. 2:
    I'll board him presently.—O, give me leave.—
    How does my good lord Hamlet?
    
    
     See also Twelfth Night, Act i. sc. 3; and Taming of the Shrew, Act i. sc. 2.
19. Longees are thrusts made by fencers.
20. "And now, being come within compass of discerning her, be began to frame the loveliest countenance that he could; stroking up his legs, setting up his beard in due order, and standing bolt upright." Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, lib iii. p. 349. See also Troilus and Cressida, Act i.; Cleveland's Mixt Assembly, p. 43; Don Quixote, Part i. book iii. chap. 12.
21. This rhyme is used before by Crashaw, in his Delights of the Muses, published in 1646:
    ⁠I wish her beauty,
    That owes not all its duty
    To gaudy tire, or glistering shoe-ty.
    
    
22. Roman Catholics used to scourge themselves before the image of a favourite saint.
23. The lady here with amusing affectation speaks as if the event had happened some time before, though in reality it was only the preceding day.
24. From the stocks.
25. Var. To th' good behaviour.
26. Alluding to the famous story of Peter and John de Carvajal, who, being unjustly condemned for murder, and taken for execution, summoned the king, Ferdinand the Fourth of Spain, to appear before God's tribunal in thirty days. The king laughed at the summons, but it nevertheless disquieted him, and though he remained apparently in good health on the day before, he was found dead in his bed on the morning of the thirtieth day. Mariana says there can be no doubt of the truth of this story.
27. Meaning the combination of saintship, or being righteous over-much, with selfishness and knavery.
28. The reference is to the text:—"Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven." Matthew xviii. 13.
29. The Knight argues that, since temporal punishments may be mitigated and commuted, the best securities for truth and honesty are such oaths as his.
30. Var. Seals in edition of 1678.
31. For two evil and delinquent spirits.
32. Sir Samuel Morland's speaking trumpet was so called after Homer's far-famed brazen-tongued Stentor. See Iliad, v. 785.
33. The later editions read, when thou'dst.
34. This was the famous saying of Roger Bacon's brazen head.
35. The epithets chaste and contemplative are used ironically. Bulwer, in his Artificial Changeling, p. 209, says, "the Turks call those that are young, and have no beards, bardasses," that is, sodomitical boys.
36. Sir Samuel Luke, it will be remembered, was scout-master. See p. 4, note ².
37. In the romances of knight-errantry the heroes always invoke their mistresses upon such occasions.
38. Some editions read: When I furiously—
39. O, for pity, is a favourite expression, frequently used by Spenser.
40. That is, whim, fancy, from the Italian capriccio.
41. Cowage, or Cow-itch (Mucuna pruriens), a plant introduced from the East Indies in 1680, the pod of which is covered with short hairs, which, if applied to the skin, cause great itching. It is still sometimes used by country lads and lasses in various ways, to tease each other with.
42. Dewtry is the old English name for Datura, a plant belonging to the Natural Order of Night-shades, all of which are extremely narcotic, and by some old writer said to be intoxicating and aphrodisiac. Stramonium is the English species. One of the inquiries of the time, instigated by the Royal Society, was as to the properties of Datura. See Sprat's History of the Royal Society, p. 161, et seq. Advrowtry signifies adultery, and is so used by Bacon, in his Life of Henry VII.
43. Alchymists were called hermetic philosophers. Manicon (or strychnon) is another narcotic, and is so called from its power of causing madness. Authors differ as to its modern name, some supposing it to be the Physalis, or winter-cherry, others the black night-shade, See Pliny's Natural Hist. (Bohn's edit.) vol. v. p. 241, 266. Banquo, in Shakspeare's Macbeth, seems to allude to it when he says:
    Were such things here, as we do speak about?
    Or have we eaten of the insane root,
    That takes the reason prisoner?⁠Act i.
    
    
44. A banter on the pretended Discoverers of the Philosopher's Stone, one of whom, Van Helmont, asserted in his book, that he had made nearly eight ounces of gold by projecting a grain of his powder upon eight ounces of quicksilver.
45. The alchymists pretended to be able to transmute the baser metals into gold. Antic means antique or ancient, perhaps quizzing the Royal Society; or Butler might mean those dreamers among the ancients, who gave occasion to the proverb, "pro thesauro carbones;" they dreamed of gold, but on examination found coals; it is frequently applied by Lucian and Phedrus. It must be borne in mind, however, that Carbon is the constituent part of diamonds and gold as well as of coal.
46. The signatures of plants were marks or figures upon them, which were thought to point out their medicinal qualties. Thus Wood-sorrel was used as a cordial, because its leaf is shaped like a heart. Liverwort was given for disorders of the liver. The herb Dragon was employed to counteract the effects of poison, because its stem is speckled like some serpents. The yellow juice of the Celandine recommended it for the cure of the jaundice, and Paracelsus said, that the spots on the leaves of the Persicaria maculosa proved its efficacy in the scurvy.
47. The multiplying glass, concave mirror, camera obscura, and other inventions, which were new in our author's time, passed with the vulgar for enchantments: and as the law against witches was then in force, the ex- hibitors of these curiosities were in some danger of being sentenced to Bridewell, the pillory, or the halter.
48. Alluding to the occupation of minor criminals in Bridewell, who beat the hemp with which greater criminals were hanged.
49. According to the rules of knight-errantry. See Don Quixote (book iii. ch. 1), and romances in general.
50. Meaning that he was a pimp, or pander.
51. William Lilly says he was fourteen years before he could get an elf or ghost of a departed witch, but at last found one in Lancashire. This country has always been famous for witches, but the ladies there are now so called out of compliment to their witchery or beauty.
52. Lapland is head-quarters for witchcraft, and it is from these Scandinavians that we derive the accepted tradition that witches ride through the air on broom-sticks. See Scheffer's History of Lapland, Mallet's Northern Antiquities, and Keightley's Fairy Mythology.
53. The poet intimates that Sidrophel, being much plagued with lice, had made a talisman, or formed a louse in a certain position of the stars, to chase away this kind of vermin.
54. The talisman of a flea, a louse, and a bug. Morpion and Punaise are French terms.
55. Meaning the balance for watches, which may be called a substitute for the pendulum, and was invented about our author's time by Dr Hooke.
56. The Dissenters are ridiculed for an affected sanctity, and turning up the whites of their eyes, which Echard calls "showing the heavenly part of the eye." Thus Ben Jonson in his story of Cocklossel and the Devil,
    To help it he called for a puritan poacht
    That used to turn up the eggs of his eyes.
    
    
    And Fenton (in his Epistle to Southerne):
    Her eyes she disciplin'd percisely right,
    Both when to wink, and how to turn the white.
    
    See also Tale of a Tub, p. 207.
57. When any one takes an oath, he puts his right hand to the book, that is, to the New Testament, and kisses it; but the Covenanters, in swearing, refused to kiss the book, saying it was Popish and superstitious; and substituted the ceremony of holding up the right hand, which they used also in taking any oath before the magistrate.
58. This is an equivocation; the "vessel" is evidently not the abject suitor, but the lady herself.
59. The Knight still means the widow, but speaks as if he meant himself.
60. "Jump punctual" means to agree exactly. "You will find" (says Petyt, in his Visions of the Reformation) "that though they have two faces that look different ways, yet they have both the same lineaments, the same principles, and the same practices."
61. When a woman pretends to be pregnant, in order to gain a respite from her sentence, the fact must be ascertained by a jury of matrons.
62. It was made felony by Act 8 Ric. II., and 8 Hen. VI., cap. 12.
63. Mark xii. 25: "For when they shall arise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage."
64. That is, bargains and marriages.
65. Plurimus in cœlis amor est, connubia nulla:
     Conjugia in terris plurima, nullis amor.
    J. Owen, Epigram, lib. 2.
    
    
66. Thus thought Eloise, according to Pope:
    Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
    Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
    
    

    So Chaucer, in his Frankeleynes Tale:

    Love wol not be constrained by maistrie:
    Whan maistre cometh, the god of love anon
    Beteth his winges, and, farewel, he is gon.
    
    
67. That is, where if one of them is faulty, the other is drawn into difficulties by it, and the truest lover is likely to be the greatest sufferer.
68. The custom among the Romans was to chain the right hand of the culprit to the left hand of the guard.
69. Sir Thomas Brown says that he could be content that we might procreate like trees without conjunction.
70. An equivocation. The words "to have and to hold," in the marriage ceremony, signify "I take to possess and keep;" in deeds of conveyance their meaning is, "I give to be possessed and kept by another." The Salisbury Missal (see edition 1554) reads, "I take thee for my wedded wife to have and to hold for this day."
71. Some editions read, the bet is laid.
72. This would seem to mean generation on faith; but Dr Johnson says, implicit signifies mixt, complicated, intricate, perplexed. Grey illustrates the reference by the story of a woman who alleged that she was enceinte by her husband, though he had been three years absent from her, upon the plea that she had received very comfortable letters from him.
73. The interpretation of the law was, that a child could not be deemed a bastard, if the husband had remained in the island, or within the four seas. See Butler's Remains, vol. i. p. 122.
74. The villains were a sort of serfs or slaves, bound to the land, and passed with it to any purchaser: as the lord was not answerable for anything done by his villain tenant, no more is the wife for anything done by her villain husband, though he is bound to justify and maintain all that his wife does.
75. Meaning that the husband is bound under all circumstances to maintain the credit of his wife, a condition as degrading as that of villainage, by which the tenants were bound to render the most abject services to their lords; while the wife, on the other hand, is in no respect responsible for her husband.
76. A legal cuckold is one who has proved his title by an action for damages.
77. These are names given in law proceedings to indefinite persons, like John Doe and Richard Roe, or Caius and Titus, in the civil law. See an amusing paper on the subject in Spectator, 577. But Butler has humorously changed John o' Nokes into a female.
78. The gipsies, it is said, are satisfied of the validity of such decisions.
79. Alluding to several revisions of the Common Prayer before the last, where it stood, "til death us depart," and then was altered to, "til death us do part."
80. They used to burn themselves on the funeral piles of their husbands; a custom which has but recently been abolished.
81. Set, that is, the game, a term at tennis.
82. The doctrine of metempsychosis. Pythagoras, according to Heraclides, used to say that he remembered not only what men, but what plants and what animals, his soul had passed through. And Empedocles declared of himself, that he had been first a boy, then a girl, then a plant, then a bird, then a fish.
83. In the edition of 1678, "ere so fond."
84. Metals, if applied to the flesh, in very cold climates, occasion extreme pain. This well-known fact is occasioned by the rapid and excessive abstraction of caloric from the flesh; just as a burn is by the rapid and excessive communication of it. Virgil, in his Georgics, I. 92, speaks of cold as burning. Some years ago, we believe in 1814, a report ran through the newspapers that a boy, putting his tongue, out of bravado, to the iron of Menai bridge, when the cold was below zero, found it adhere so violently, that it could not be withdrawn without surgical aid, and the loss of part of it.
85. That is, becomes as hard and frail as glass: for after being melted in the furnace of desire, he congeals like melted glass, which, when the heat is over, is not unlike ice.
86. Made over their property, in trust, to a third person for their sole and separate use.
87. Sir Kenelm Digby, in his Treatise on Bodies, chap. 36, § 38, relates this story of the fox.
88. Signifying a mere toss up, heads or tails.
89. On the shillings of Philip and Mary, coined 1555, the faces are placed opposite, and near to each other. Cleveland, in his poem on an Hermaphrodite, has a similar expression:
    "Thus did nature's mintage vary,
    Coining thee a Philip and Mary."
    
    
90. The bride, among the Romans, was brought home to her husband in a yellow veil. The widow intimates that the yellow colour of the veil was an emblem of jealousy.
91. The later editions read crincam; either of them is a cant word, denoting an infectious disease, or whimsical affection of the mind, applied commonly to love, lewdness, or jealousy. Thus, in the manors of East and West Enborne, in Berkshire, if the widow by incontinence forfeits her free bench, she may recover it again by riding into the next manor court, backward, on a black ram, with his tail in her hand, and saying the following words:
    Here I am, riding upon a black ram.
    Like a whore as I am:
    And for my crincum crancum,
    Have lost my bincum bancum.
    Blount's Fragmenta Antiq. p. 144.
    
    
    Nares's Glossary affords the following illustration. "You must know, Sir, in a nobleman 'tis abusive; no, in him the serpigo, in a knight the grincomes, in a gentleman the Neapolitan scabb, and in a serving man or artificer the plaine pox." Jones's Adrasta, 1635. But see Wright's Glossary, sub voc. Crincombes, Crancum, Grincomes.
92. Aches was a dissyllable in Butler's time, and long afterwards. See note ³ at page 191.
93. In some countries, after the wife has recovered from her lying in, it has been the custom for the husband to go to bed, and be treated with the same care and tenderness. See Apollonius Rhodius, II. 1013, and Valerius Flaccus, v. 148. The history of mankind hath scarcely furnished any thing more unaccountable than the prevalence of this custom. We meet with it in ancient and modern times, in the Old World and in the New, among nations who could never have had the least intercourse with each other. It is practised in China, and in Purchas's Pilgrims it is said to be practised among the Brazilians. At Haarlem, a cambric cockade hung to the door, shows that the woman of the house is brought to bed, and that her husband claims a protection from arrests during the six weeks of his wife's confinement. Polnitz Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 396.
94. Raw and inexperienced youths; green is still used in the same sense. Shakespeare, in Hamlet, Act iv. sc. 5, says:

    And we have done but greenly to inter him.

95. Nicholas Monardes, a physician of Seville, who died 1577, tells us, that this disease was supposed to have been brought into Europe at the siege of Naples, from the West Indies, by some of Columbus's sailors who accompanied him to Naples, on his return from his first voyage in 1493. When peace was there made between the French and Spaniards, the armies of both nations had free intercourse, and conversing with the same women were infected by this disorder. The Spaniards thought they had received the contagion from the French, and the French maintained that it had been communicated to them by the Spaniards. Guicciardini, at the end of his second book of the History of Italy, dates the origin of this distemper in Europe, at the year 1495. But Dr Gascoigne, as quoted by Anthony Wood, says he knew several persons who had died of it in his time, that is, before 1457, in which year his will was proved. Indeed, after all the pains which have been taken by inquisitive writers to prove that this disease was brought from America, or the West Indies, the fact is not sufficiently established. Perhaps it was generated in Guinea, or some other equinoctial part of Africa. Astruc, who wrote the History of Diseases, says it was brought from the West Indies, between the years 1494 and 1496. In the earliest printed book on the subject, Leonicenus de Epidemia quam Itali Morbem Gallicum, Galli vero Neapolitanum vocant, Venet. Aldi, 1497, the disease is said to have been till then unknown in Ferrara.
96. Alluding to the words of the marriage ceremony: so in the following lines,
    ⁠—with their bodies bound
    To worship.
    
    
97. Masks were introduced at the Restoration, and were then worn as a distinctive sign by the gay ladies of the theatre. Afterwards the use of them became more general.
98. The poet humorously compares the noise and clamour of a scolding wife, which breaks the drum of her husband's ears, to the petard, or short cannon, used for beating down the gates of a castle.
99. This was one of the early beliefs respecting the silkworm. See Edward Williams' Virginia's richly valued, Lond. 1650, p. 26.
100. The Sirens, according to the poets, were three sea-monsters, half women and half fish; their names were Parthenope, Ligea, and Leucosia. Their usual residence was about the island of Sicily, where, by the charming melody of their voices, they used to detain those that heard them, and then transformed them into some sort of brute animals.
101. Ancient botanists entertained various conceits about this plant; in its forked roots they discovered the shapes of men and women; and the sound which proceeded from its strong fibres when strained or torn from the ground, they took for the voice of a human being; sometimes they imagined that they had distinctly heard their conversation. The poet takes the liberty of enlarging upon those hints, and represents the mandrake husband and wife quarrelling under ground; a situation, he says, not more uncomfortable than that of a married pair continually at variance, since these, if not in fact buried alive, are so virtually.
102. Thus Cleveland:
     Adam, 'till his rib was lost,
     Had the sexes thus engrost.
     When Providence our sire did cleave,
     And out of Adam carved Eve,
     Then did man 'bout wedlock treat,
     To make his body up complete.
     
     
103. Anagram means a transposition of the letters of a word by which a new meaning is extracted from it; as in Dr Burney's well-known anagram of Horatio Nelson—Honor est a Nilo. Man is often called the microcosm, or world in miniature, and it is in this sense that Butler describes him.
104. In the Symposium of Plato, Aristophanes, one of the dialogists, relates, that the human species, at its original formation, consisted not only of males and females, but of a third kind, combining both sexes in one. This last species, it is said, having rebelled against Jupiter, was, by way of punishment, completely divided; whence the strong propensity which inclines the separate parts to a reünion, and the assumed origin of love. And since it is hardly possible that the dissevered moieties should stumble upon each other, after they have wandered about the earth, we may, upon the same hypothesis, account for the number of unhappy and disproportionate matches which men daily encounter, by saying that they mistake their proper halves. Moore makes a happy use of this notion in speaking of ballad music before it is wedded to poetry: "A pretty air without words resembles one of those half creatures of Plato, which are described as wandering in search of the remainder of themselves through the world."—National Airs.
105. That is, that join insensibly in an imperceptible line, like the imaginary lines of mathematicians. Other heavens, that is, the real heavens.
106. Alluding to the sexual laws of nature, as typified in plants down to the smallest forms.
107. See Lord Bacon's Essay, No. viii.
108. The Amazons, according to the old mythological stories, avoided marriage and permitted no men to live amongst them, nevertheless held periodical intercourse with them. The vestals were under a vow of perpetual chastity.
109. Diogenes asserted that marriage was nothing but an empty name. And Zeno, the father of the Stoics, maintained that all women ought to be common, that no words were obscene, and no parts of the body need be covered.
110. i. e. such intercommunity of women would be productive of the worst consequences, unless mankind were reduced to the most barbarous state of nature, and men became altogether brutes.
111. If there had been no matrimony, we should have had no provision made for us by our forefathers; but, like younger children of our primitive parent the earth, should have been excluded from every possession.
112. Charles-street, Drury-lane, inhabited chiefly by strumpets.
113. Meaning ladies of pleasure. The Lady of the Lake was represented in some of the old romances as a mistress of king Arthur.
114. Thus Mr Pope:
     For sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race,
     Are, as when women, wond'rous fond of place.
     
     
     Our poet, though vindicating the ladies and the happy state of matrimony, cannot help introducing this stroke of satire: Bastards have no place, or rank.
115. That is, will not even go to church if they have not their right of precedence. Chaucer says of the wife of Bath, 451:
     In all the parish wif ne was there non,
     That to the offring before hire shulde gon,
     And if ther did, certain so wroth was she,
     That she was out of alle charitee.
     
     
116. Meaning benefit of clergy, on account of pregnancy. See note on line 522, at page 286.
117. This alludes to the form enjoined in the Directory, when it was contrary to law to be married by the service in the Book of Common Prayer.
118. So Terence. The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love. Andria III. 3.
119. Coy, or Coye, is used here in the sense of toying or fondling. So Shakspeare,
     "Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
     While I thy amiable cheek do coy."
     Mids. N. D. Act iv. sc. 1.
     
     
     But see Wright's Glossary sub voce.
120. That is, makes them irrevocable, and secures the title; as passing a fine in law does a conveyance or settlement.
121. In this speech the Knight makes amends for previous uncourteousness, and defends the ladies and the married state with great gallantry, wit, and good sense.
122. That is, shot at random, not at a target.
123. The fairies were believed to be capable of exchanging infants in the cradle for some of their own "Elfin brood," or for the children of other parents. See Keightley's Fairy Mythology.
124. Alluding to the form of marriage in the Common Prayer Book, where the fee is directed to be put upon the book with the wedding-ring, and the bridegroom endows the bride with all his worldly goods.
125. Fines, signifies pays; implying that her wealth, by exposing her to the snares of fortune-hunters, may be the cause of her destruction.
126. The sluts or draggle-tails. See Wright's Provincial Dictionary.
127. That is, the widow's children by a former husband, who are under age; to whom the lover would willingly be guardian, to have the management of the jointure.
128. This is still imposed at forfeits. But see Pepys's Diary.
129. Fashionable games much in vogue in the time of Charles II. Ombre was introduced at the Restoration. Beast, or Angel-beast, was similar to Loo. "I love my love with an A," was one of the favourite amusements at Whitehall. Pepys tells us that he once found the Duke and Duchess of York, with all the great ladies at Whitehall, "sitting upon a carpet upon the ground, there being no chairs, playing at 'I love my love with an A, because he is so and so; and I hate him with an A, because of this and that;' and some of them, particularly the Duchess herself, and my Lady Castlemaine, were very witty."
130. The widow, in these and the following lines, gives no bad sketch of a person who endeavours to retrieve his circumstances by marriage, and practises every method in his power to recommend himself to his rich mistress: he plays with her at Questions and Commands, endeavours to divert her with cards, puts himself in masquerade, flirts her fan, talks of flames and darts, aches and sufferings; which last, the poet intimates, might more justly be attributed to other causes.
131. Masks were kept close to the face, by a bead fixed to the inside of them, and held in the mouth, when the lady's hands were otherwise employed.
132. At the vulgar play of Questions and Commands, a forfeit was often to take off a lady's garter: expecting this therefore the lady provided herself with new ones.
133. That is, made use of, or practised.
134. These are the two principal rent days in the year: unsatisfactory to the landlord, when his outgoings exceed his incomings.
135. Here the poet shows his knowledge of the law, and law terms, which he always uses with great propriety. Execution is obtaining possession of anything recovered by judgment of law. Extent is a writ of execution at the suit of the crown, which extends over all the defendant's lands and other property, in order to satisfy a bond, engagement, or forfeit. Exigent is a writ requiring a person to appear; and lies where the defendant in an action cannot personally be found, or on anything of his in the country, whereby he may be distrained. Scire facias is a writ to enforce the execution of judgment.
136. Haste, bustle. Wright's Provincial Dictionary.
137. Two princes celebrated for their valour in the 11th century. The former the predecessor, the latter the son and successor, of Canute the Great.
138. A sort of divination by circles and pricks in the earth; used here for any sort of conjuring. The Knight's trance was a swoon through fear.
139. Lapland, on account of its remaining pagan so long, was celebrated through the rest of Europe as the country of magicians and witches. They are reputed to have obtained the revelations necessary to making their predictions during trances.
140. This circumstance happened to Sir Richard Philips, of Picton Castle, in Pembrokeshire. The Cavaliers, commanded by Colonel Egerton, attacked this place, and demanded a parley. Sir Richard consented; and, being a little man, stepped upon a bench, and showed himself at one of the windows. The colonel, who was high in stature, sat on horseback underneath; and pretending to be deaf, desired the other to come as near him as he could. Sir Richard then leaned a good deal from the window; when the colonel seized him by the ears, and drew him out. Soon after the castle surrendered.
141. Alluding to the use of cautery in apoplexy.
142. This scene is imitated, but with much less wit and learning, in a poem called Dunstable Downs, falsely attributed to Butler.
143. Your old friends and companions.
144. The Knight confesses that he would have sacrificed his conscience to money; in reality, he had rid himself of it long before.
145. To provide for herself, as horses do when they are turned to grass. The poet might possibly intend a jeu de mot. Alimony is a separate maintenance paid by the husband to the wife, where she is not convicted of adultery. The Earl of Strafford relates a case rather worse than Hudibras intended;—Queen Elizabeth reprimanded Stakeley for ill-using his wife, to which he replied, that "he had already turned her into her petticoat, and if any one could make more of her, they might take her for him."
146. The small bell, which rings immediately before the minister begins the church service, is called the saints' bell; and when the clerk has rung it he says, "he has rung all in."
147. The devils are here looked upon as landlords of the meeting-houses, since the tenants of them were known to be so diabolical, and to hold them by no good title; but as it was uncertain how long these lawless times would last, the poet makes the devils let them only by the year: now when anything is actually let, landlords never come there, that is, have excluded themselves from all right to the use of the premises.
148. I remember an old attorney, who told me, a little before his death, that he had been reckoned a very great rascal, and believed he was so, for he had done many roguish and infamous things in his profession: "but," adds he, "by what I can observe of the rising generation, the time may come, and you may live to see it, when I shall be accounted a very honest man, in comparison with those attorneys who are to succeed me."⁠Nash.
149. A banter on the pamphlets in those days, under the name and form of Catechisms: Heylin's Rebel's Catechism, Watson's Cavalier's Catechism, Ram's Soldier's Catechism, Parker's Political Catechism, &c. &c.
150. Both Presbyterians and Independents were fond of saying one of us; that is, one of the holy brethren, the elect number, the godly party.
151. Alluding to the Great Plague of London, in 1665, which destroyed 68,586 people. Defoe gives a very graphic and painfully interesting account of it.
152. A committee was appointed November 11, 1646, to inquire into the value of all church-livings, in order to plant an able ministry, as was pretended; but, in truth, to discover the best and fattest benefices, that the champions of the cause might choose for themselves. Whereof some had three or four a-piece; a lack being pretended of competent pastors. When a living was small, the church doors were shut up. "I could name an assembly-man," says Sir William Dugdale, in his Short View, "who being told by an eminent person that a certain church had no incumbent, inquired the value of it; and receiving for answer that it was about £50 a-year, he said, if it be no better worth, no godly man will accept it."
153. —Administerings. See P. iii. c. ii. v. 55.
154. That is, a bishop who wears lawn sleeves.
155. Moral goodness was deemed a mean attainment, and much beneath the character of saints, who held grace and inspiration to be all meritorious, and virtue to have no merit; nay, some even thought virtue impious, when it is rooted only in nature, and not imputed; some of the modern sects are supposed to hold tenets not very unlike this. Nash.
156. It is reported of Judge Jefferys, that taking a dislike to a witness who had a long beard, he told him that "if his conscience was as long as his beard, he had a swinging one:" to which the countryman replied, "My Lord, if you measure consciences by beards, you have none at all."
157. Nicholas Machiavelli was the great Florentine Historian and Statesman of the 16th cent. His political principles were loudly condemned by the Puritans, because they considered them identified with those of Charles I. Nick is a name of the devil, taken from the old Scandinavian and Teutonic name of a kind of water-spirit. See Keightley's Fairy Mythology. When Machiavel is represented as such a proficient in wickedness, that his name hath become an appellation for the devil himself, we are not less entertained by the smartness of the sentiment, than we should be if it were supported by the truth of history. By the same kind of poetical license Empedodes, in the second canto, is humorously said to have been acquainted with the writings of Alexander Ross, who did not live till about 2000 years after him.
158. The moon is here said to influence the tides and motions of the sea, and half mankind, who are assumed to be more or less lunatic.
159. Insane persons are supposed to be worst at the change and full of the moon, when the tides are highest.
160. Meaning this religious knight-errantry: this search after trifling offences, with intent to punish them as crying sins. Ralpho, who now supposed himself alone, vents his sorrows in this soliloquy, which is so artfully worded, as equally to suit his own case and the Knight's, and to censure the conduct of both. Hence the latter applies the whole as meant to be directed to himself, and comments upon it accordingly to v. 1400, after which the squire improves on his master's mistake, and counterfeits the ghost in earnest. This seems to have been Butler's meaning, though not readily to be collected from his words. Holy brotherhood alludes to the society instituted in Spain, called La Santa Hermandad, employed in detecting and apprehending thieves and robbers, and executing other parts of the police.
161. The Centaurs were a people of Thessaly, and supposed to be the first managers of horses. Strangers, who had never seen any such thing before, reported them to be half man and half beast.
162. Alluding to the result of the Knight's attempt to put down the Skimmington.
163. A phrase used by Horace, Carm. lib. iv. Od. 13, v. 20; also by Ben Jonson in his Tale of a Tub, Act iii. sc. 5.
164. The heathen oracles wore said to have ceased at the Nativity. See [[Author:|John Milton|Milton's]] Ode.
165. Tom Po was a common name for a spectre. The word seems to be akin to bug in "bugbear;" to the Dutch bauw, a spectre; and to the Welsh bo, a hobgoblin. One son of Odin was named Po or Bo.
166. Grey illustrates this by the story of two male servants, one of whom alarmed the other, who was very apprehensive of the devil, by getting under the bed at night time and playing pranks; but happening to make a natural explosion, the frightened man recovered himself, and cried out, "Oh! oh! if thou art a f———g devil, have at thee, I am not afraid;" and therewith got up and thrashed him.
167. One of the current superstitions of the olden time about fairies was, that if servant-maids, before going to bed, swept up their hearths clean, brightened the furniture, and left a pail full of clean water for bathing in, they would find money in their shoes; if they left the house dirty they would be pinched in their sleep. Thus the old ballad of Robin Goodfellow, who perhaps was the sprite meant by Pug-Robin;
     When house or hearth doth sluttish lie,
     I pinch the maids both black and blue:
     And from the bed, the bed-cloths I
     Pull off, and lay them nak'd to view.
     
     
     Again, speaking of fairies:
     Such sort of creatures as would bast ye
     A kitchen wench, for being nasty:
     But if she neatly scour her pewter,
     Give her the money that is due t' her.
     Every night before we go,
     We drop a tester in her shoe.
     
     
     See Shakspeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, and Merry Wives of Windsor; Percy's Reliques; and Keightley's Fairy Mythology.
168. Pug-Robin, or Robin Goodfellow, was a kind of merry sprite, whose character and achievements are frequently recorded by the poets, particularly in the well-known lines of Shakspeare, Mids. Night's Dream, Act ii. sc. 1. Pug is the same as Puck. Dry bobbing here means dry jesting.
169. You are no such wise person, or sophister, from the Greek σύφος.
170. Meaning the Independents, or Ralpho, whom he says he had sent to the infernal Hogen-Mogen (from the Dutch Hoogmogende, high and mighty, or the devil,) supposing he would be hung.
171. Skipper is the Dutch for the master of a sloop, generally a good climber.
172. When persons took the Covenant, they attested their obligation to observe its principles by lifting up their hands to heaven. Of this South says, satirically, "Holding up their hands was a sign that they were ready to strike." The Covenant here means the Solemn League and Covenant, framed by the Scots, and adopted by the English, ordered to be read in all churches, when every person was bound to give his consent, by holding up his hand at the reading of it.
173. Ralpho, the supposed sprite, allows that they, the devil and the Independents, had engaged in the Covenant; but he insists that the violation of it was not at all prejudicial to the cause they had undertaken and for which it was framed.
174. A peccadillo, or more correctly Piccadil, was a stiff collar or ruff worn round the neck and shoulders. Ludicrously it means the pillory. This collar came into fashion in the reign of James I., and is supposed to have given the name to Piccadilly.
175. Some editions read "held up."
176. That is, the scandalous reflections on the saints, such as charging the Covenant with perjury, and making the Covenanter no better than a rogue at the bar.
177. Hudibras having been hard upon Satan and the Independents, the voice undertakes the defence of each, but first of the Independents.
178. That is, either with the Independents or with the devil.
179. He, that is, the Independent, has no power, having no classis, or spiritual jurisdiction, to distress us by open and authorized vexations. Stools mean stools of repentance, on which persons were compelled to stand and do penance for their sins. Poundage is the commutation of punishment for a sum of money.
180. He argues that men who are influenced by the devil, and co-operate with him, commit greater wickedness than he is able to perpetrate by his own agency. We seldom hear, therefore, of his taking an entire possession. The persons who complain most of his doing so, are those who are well furnished with the means of exorcising and ejecting him, such as relics, crucifixes, beads, pictures, rosaries, &c.
181. "Not having the fear of God before their eyes, but being led by the instigation of the devil," is the form of indictment for felony, murder, and other atrocious crimes.
182. Some editions read "you help."
183. The enthusiasm of the Independents was something new in its kind, not much allied to superstition.
184. Keep those in hell whom you are pleased to send thither by excommunication, mittimus, or anathema: as jailors and turnkeys confine their prisoners.
185. More honestly than the Presbyterians surrendered the estates which they held in trust for one another; these trustees were generally Covenanters. See Part i. c. i. v. 76, and Part iii. c. ii. v. 55.
186. This alludes to the case of a Mr Sherfield, who mortgaged his estate to half a dozen different people, having by a previous deed demised it for pious uses, so that all lost their money. See Stratford's Letters, 1739, vol. i. p. 206.
187. You call down the vengeance of the civil magistrate upon them, and in this second instance pass over, that is, take no notice of, their souls: the ecclesiastical courts can excommunicate, and then they apply to the civil court for an outlawry. Utlegation means outlawry.
188. Seize the party by a writ de excommunicato capiendo.
189. Your friends and ours, that is, you devils and us fanatics: that as you trust us in our way, to raise you devils, and to lay them again when done with. Nash.
190. It is probable that the presbyterian doctrine of reprobation had driven some persons to suicide, as in the case of Alderman Hoyle, a member of the house. See Birkenhead's Paul's Church Yard.
191. Assuming that sanctus is derived from sanguis, blood.—We fanatics of this island only have merited that title by spilling much blood.
192. It was formerly a current superstition that when the cock crowed at break of day, spirits and fiends that walked by night were forced to return to their infernal prison.
193. His back is called his forlorn hope, because that was generally exposed to danger, to save the rest of his body, intimating that he always turned his hack on his enemies.
194. Butler does not forget the Royal Society, who at that time held their meetings at Gresham College in Bishopsgate Street. In 1662, the scheme of a cart with legs instead of wheels was brought before this Society, and referred to the consideration of Mr Hooke. The inventor was Mr Potter. Mr Hooke was ordered to draw up a full description of this cart, which, together with the animadversions upon it, was to be entered in the books of the Society.
195. Jockies endanger their necks by spurring their horses, and galloping very fast; and highwaymen, called padders, from the Saxon paad, highway, spur their horses to save their necks.
196. The time now approached when the Presbyterians and Independents were to fall into equal disgrace, and resemble the doleful condition of the Knight and Squire.