1587 p For, as the AEgyptians us'd by Bees, &c.] The AEgyptians represented their kings, (many of whose names were Ptolemy) under the hieroglyphick of a bee, dispensing honey to the good and virtuous, and having a sting for the wicked and dissolute.
PART III
CANTO III
THE ARGUMENT.
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The Knight and squire's prodigious Flight
To quit th' inchanted Bow'r by Night.
He plods to turn his amorous Suit
T' a Plea in Law, and prosecute
Repairs to Counsel, to advise
'Bout managing the Enterprise;
But first resolves to try by Letter,
And one more fair Address, to get her.
————————————————————————-
WHO wou'd believe what strange bugbears
Mankind creates itself of fears
That spring like fern, that insect weed,
Equivocally, without seed;
And have no possible foundation, 5
But merely in th' imagination;
And yet can do more dreadful feats
Than hags, with all their <q> imps and teats
Make more bewitch and haunt themselves
Than all their nurseries of elves? 10
For fear does things so like a witch,
'Tis hard t' unriddle which is which:
Sets up Communities of senses,
To chop and change intelligences;
As <r> Rosicrucian virtuosos 15
Can see with ears, and hear with noses;
And when they neither see nor hear,
Have more than both supply'd by fear
That makes 'em in the dark see visions,
And hag themselves with apparitions; 20
And when their eyes discover least,
Discern the subtlest objects best
Do things not contrary, alone,
To th' course of nature, but its own;
The courage of the bravest daunt, 25
And turn poltroons as valiant:
For men as resolute appear
With too much as too little fear
And when they're out of hopes of flying,
Will run away from death by dying; 30
Or turn again to stand it out,
And those they fled, like lions, rout.
This HUDIBRAS had prov'd too true,
Who, by the furies left perdue,
And haunted with detachments, sent 35
From <s> Marshal Legion's regiment,
Was by a fiend, as counterfeit,
Reliev'd and rescu'd with a cheat;
When nothing but himself, and fear,
Was both the imp and conjurer; 40
As, by the rules o' th' virtuosi,
It follows in due form of poesie.
Disguis'd in all the masks of night,
We left our champion on his flight,
At blind man's buff, to grope his way, 45
In equal fear of night and day,
Who took his dark and desp'rate course,
He knew no better than his horse;
And, by an unknown Devil led,
(He knew as little whither,) fled. 50
He never was in greater need,
Nor less capacity, of speed;
Disabled, both in man and beast,
To fly and run away his best;
To keep the enemy, and fear, 55
From equal falling on his rear.
And though with kicks and bangs he ply'd
The further and the nearer side,
(As seamen ride with all their force,
And tug as if they row'd the horse, 60
And when the hackney sails most swift,
Believe they lag, or run a-drift,)
So, though he posted e'er so fast,
His fear was greater than his haste:
For fear, though fleeter than the wind, 65
Believes 'tis always left behind.
But when the morn began t' appear,
And shift t' another scene his fear,
He found his new officious shade,
That came so timely to his aid, 70
And forc'd him from the foe t' escape,
Had turn'd itself to RALPHO's shape;
So like in person, garb, and pitch,
'Twas hard t' interpret which was which.
For RALPHO had no sooner told 75
The Lady all he had t' unfold,
But she convey'd him out of sight,
To entertain the approaching Knight;
And, while he gave himself diversion,
T' accommodate his beast and person, 80
And put his beard into a posture
At best advantage to accost her,
She order'd th' anti-masquerade
(For his reception) aforesaid:
But when the ceremony was done, 85
The lights put out, and furies gone,
And HUDIBRAS, among the rest,
Convey'd away, as RALPHO guess'd,
The wretched caitiff, all alone,
(As he believ'd) began to moan, 90
And tell his story to himself,
The Knight mistook him for an elf;
And did so still till he began
To scruple at RALPH's Outward Man;
And thought, because they oft agreed 95
T' appear in one another's stead,
And act the Saint's and Devil's part
With undistinguishable art,
They might have done so now, perhaps,
And put on one another's shapes 100
And therefore, to resolve the doubt,
He star'd upon him, and cry'd out,
What art? My 'Squire, or that bold Sprite
That took his place and shape to-night?
Some busy indepenent pug, 105
Retainer to his Synagogue?
Alas! quoth he, I'm none of those,
Your bosom friends, as you suppose;
But RALPH himself, your trusty 'Squire,
Wh' has dragg'd your Dunship out o' th' mire, 110
And from th' inchantments of a widow,
Wh' had turn'd you int' a beast, have freed you;
And, though a prisoner of war,
Have brought you safe where you now are;
Which you would gratefully repay 115
Your constant Presbyterian way.
That's stranger (quoth the Knight) and stranger.
Who gave thee notice of my danger?
Quoth he, Th' infernal Conjurer
Pursu'd and took me prisoner; 120
And knowing you were hereabout,
Brought me along to find you out;
Where I, in hugger-mugger hid,
Have noted all they said or did:
And though they lay to him the pageant, 125
I did not see him, nor his agent;
Who play'd their sorceries out of sight,
T' avoid a fiercer second fight.
But didst thou see no Devils then?
Not one (quoth he) but carnal men, 130
A little worse than fiends in hell,
And that She-Devil Jezebel,
That laugh'd and tee-he'd with derision,
To see them take your deposition.
What then (quoth HUDIBRAS) was he 135
That play'd the Dev'l to examine me?
A rallying weaver in the town,
That did it in a parson's gown;
Whom all the parish take for gifted;
But, for my part, I ne'er believ'd it: 140
In which you told them all your feats,
Your conscientious frauds and cheats;
Deny'd your whipping, and confest
The naked truth of all the rest,
More plainly than the <t> Rev'rend Writer, 145
That to our Churches veil'd his Mitre;
All which they took in black and white,
And cudgell'd me to under-write.
What made thee, when they all were gone,
And none but thou and I alone, 150
To act the Devil, and forbear
To rid me of my hellish fear?
Quoth he, I knew your constant rate
And frame of sp'rit too obstinate
To be by me prevail'd upon 155
With any motives of my own;
And therefore strove to counterfeit
The Dev'l a-while, to nick your wit;
The Devil, that is your constant crony,
That only can prevail upon ye; 160
Else we might still have been disputing,
And they with weighty drubs confuting.
The Knight who now began to find
Th' had left the enemy behind,
And saw no farther harm remain, 165
But feeble weariness and pain;
Perceiv'd, by losing of their way,
Th' had gain'd th' advantage of the day;
And, by declining of the road,
They had, by chance, their rear made good; 170
He ventur'd to dismiss his fear,
That parting's wont to rent and tear,
And give the desperat'st attack
To danger still behind its back.
For having paus'd to recollect, 175
And on his past success reflect,
T' examine and consider why,
And whence, and how, they came to fly,
And when no Devil had appear'd,
What else, it cou'd be said, he fear'd; 180
It put him in so fierce a rage,
He once resolv'd to re-engage;
Toss'd like a foot-ball back again,
With shame and vengeance, and disdain.
Quoth he, it was thy cowardice 185
That made me from this leaguer rise
And when I'd half reduc'd the place,
To quit it infamously base
Was better cover'd by the new
Arriv'd detachment then I knew; 190
To slight my new acquests, and run
Victoriously from battles won;
And reck'ning all I gain'd or lost,
To sell them cheaper than they cost;
To make me put myself to flight, 195
And conqu'ring run away by night
To drag me out, which th' haughty foe
Durst never have presum'd to do
To mount me in the dark, by force,
Upon the bare ridge of my horse; 200
Expos'd in querpo to their rage,
Without my arms and equipage;
Lest, if they ventur'd to pursue,
I might th' unequal fight renew;
And, to preserve thy Outward Man, 205
Assum'd my place, and led the van.
All this quoth RALPH, I did, 'tis true,
Not to preserve my self, but you;
You, who were damn'd to baser drubs
Than wretches feel in powd'ring tubs. 210
To mount two-wheel'd carroches, worse
Than managing a wooden-horse
Dragg'd out through straiter holes by th' ears,
Eras'd or coup'd for perjurers;
Who, though th' attempt had prov'd in vain, 215
Had had no reason to complain:
But since it prosper'd, 'tis unhandsome
To blame the hand that paid our ransome,
And rescu'd your obnoxious bones
From unavoidable battoons. 220
The enemy was reinforc'd,
And we disabled, and unhors'd,
Disarm'd, unqualify'd for fight,
And no way left but hasty flight,
Which though as desp'rate in th' attempt, 225
Has giv'n you freedom to condemn't.
But were our bones in fit condition
To reinforce the expedition,
'Tis now unseasonable, and vain,
To think of falling on again. 230
No martial project to surprize
Can ever be attempted twice;
Nor cast design serve afterwards,
As gamesters tear their losing-cards,
Beside, our bangs of man and beast 235
Are fit for nothing now but rest;
And for a-while will not be able
To rally, and prove serviceable;
And therefore I, with reason, chose
This stratagem t' amuse our foes; 240
To make an honourable retreat,
And wave a total sure defeat;
For those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain.
Hence timely running's no mean part 245
Of conduct in the martial art;
By which some glorious feats atchieve,
As citizens by breaking thrive;
And cannons conquer armies, while
They seem to draw off and recoil; 250
Is held the gallantest course, and bravest
To great exploits, as well as safest;
That spares th' expence of time and pains,
And dangerous beating out of brains;
And in the end prevails as certain 255
As those that never trust to fortune;
But make their fear do execution
Beyond the stoutest resolution;
As earthquakes kill without a blow,
And, only trembling, overthrow, 260
If <u> th' ancients crown'd their bravest men
That only sav'd a citizen,
What victory could e'er be won,
If ev'ry one would save but one
Or fight endanger'd to be lost, 265
Where all resolve to save the most?
By this means, when a battle's won,
The war's as far from being done;
For those that save themselves, and fly,
Go halves, at least, i' th' victory; 270
And sometimes, when the loss is small,
And danger great, they challenge all;
Print new additions to their feats,
And emendations in Gazettes;
And when, for furious haste to run, 275
They durst not stay to fire a gun,
Have done't with bonfires, and at home
Made squibs and crackers overcome;
To set the rabble on a flame,
And keep their governors from blame; 280
Disperse the news the pulpit tells,
Confirm'd with fire-works and with bells;
And though reduc'd to that extream,
They have been forc'd to sing Te Deum;
Yet, with religious blasphemy, 285
By flattering Heaven with a lie
And for their beating giving thanks,
Th' have rais'd recruits, and fill'd their banks;
For those who run from th' enemy,
Engage them equally to fly; 290
And when the fight becomes a chace,
Those win the day that win the race
And that which would not pass in fights,
Has done the feat with easy flights;
Recover'd many a desp'rate campaign 295
With Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Champaign;
Restor'd the fainting high and mighty
With brandy-wine and aqua-vitae;
And made 'em stoutly overcome
With bachrach, hoccamore, and mum; 300
Whom the uncontroul'd decrees of fate
To victory necessitate;
With which, although they run or burn
They unavoidably return:
Or else their <w> sultan populaces 305
Still strangle all their routed Bassas.
Quoth HUDIBRAS, I understand
What fights thou mean'st at sea and land,
And who those were that run away,
And yet gave out th' had won the day; 310
Although the rabble sous'd them for't,
O'er head and ears in mud and dirt.
'Tis true, our modern way of war
Is grown more politick by far,
But not so resolute, and bold, 315
Nor ty'd to honour, as the old.
For now they laugh at giving battle,
Unless it be to herds of cattle;
Or fighting convoys of provision,
The whole design o' the expedition: 320
And not with downright blows to rout
The enemy, but eat them out:
As fighting, in all beasts of prey,
And eating, are perform'd one way,
To give defiance to their teeth 325
And fight their stubborn guts to death;
And those atchieve the high'st renown,
That bring the others' stomachs down,
There's now no fear of wounds, nor maiming;
All dangers are reduc'd to famine; 330
And feats of arms, to plot, design,
Surprize, and stratagem, and mine;
But have no need nor use of courage,
Unless it be for glory or forage:
For if they fight, 'tis but by chance, 335
When one side vent'ring to advance,
And come uncivilly too near,
Are charg'd unmercifully i' th' rear;
And forc'd with terrible resistance,
To keep hereafter at a distance; 340
To pick out ground to incamp upon,
Where store of largest rivers run,
That serve, instead of peaceful barriers,
To part th' engagements of their warriors;
Where both from side to side may skip, 345
And only encounter at bo-peep:
For men are found the stouter-hearted,
The certainer th' are to be parted,
And therefore post themselves in bogs,
As th' ancient <x> mice attack'd the frogs, 350
And made their mortal enemy,
The water-rat, their strict ally.
For 'tis not now, who's stout and bold,
But who bears hunger best, and cold;
And he's approv'd the most deserving, 355
Who longest can hold out at starving;
And he that routs most pigs and cows,
The formidablest man of prowess.
So th' emperor CALIGULA,
That triumph'd o'er the British Sea, 360
Took crabs and oysters prisoners,
Lobsters, 'stead of cuirasiers,
Engag'd his legions in fierce bustles
With periwinkles, prawns, and muscles;
And led his troops with furious gallops, 365
To charge whole regiments of scallops
Not like their ancient way of war,
To wait on his triumphal carr
But when he went to dine or sup
More bravely eat his captives up; 370
And left all war, by his example,
Reduc'd to vict'ling of a camp well.
Quoth RALPH, By all that you have said,
And twice as much that I cou'd add,
'Tis plain you cannot now do worse, 375
Than take this out-of-fashion'd course;
To hope, by stratagem, to woo her,
Or waging battle to subdue her
Though some have done it in romances,
And bang'd them into amorous fancies; 380
As those who won the AMAZONS,
By wanton drubbing of their bones;
And stout <y> Rinaldo gain'd his bride,
By courting of her back and side.
But since those times and feats are over, 385
They are not for a modern lover,
When mistresses are too cross-grain'd
By such addresses to be gain'd;
And if they were, wou'd have it out
With many another kind of bout. 390
Therefore I hold no course s' infeasible,
As this of force to win the JEZEBEL;
To storm her heart, by th' antick charms
Of ladies errant, force of arms;
But rather strive by law to win her, 395
And try the title you have in her.
Your case is clear; you have her word,
And me to witness the accord
Besides two more of her retinue
To testify what pass'd between you; 400
More probable, and like to hold,
Than hand, or seal, or breaking gold;
For which so many, that renounc'd
Their plighted contracts, have been trounc'd
And bills upon record been found, 405
That forc'd the ladies to compound;
And that, unless I miss the matter,
Is all the bus'ness you look after.
Besides, encounters at the bar
Are braver now than those in war, 410
In which the law does execution
With less disorder and confusion
Has more of honour in't, some hold
Not like the new way, but the old
When those the pen had drawn together, 415
Decided quarrels with the feather,
And winged arrows kill'd as dead,
And more than bullets now of lead.
So all their combats now, as then,
Are manag'd chiefly by the pen; 420
That does the feat with braver vigours,
In words at length, as well as figures;
Is judge of all the world performs
In voluntary feats of arms
And whatsoe'er's atchiev'd in fight, 425
Determines which is wrong or right:
For whether you prevail, or lose
All must be try'd there in the close;
And therefore 'tis not wise to shun
What you must trust to ere y' have done. 430
The law, that settles all you do,
And marries where you did but woo;
That makes the most perfidious lover
A lady, that's as false, recover;
And if it judge upon your side, 435
Will soon extend her for your bride;
And put her person, goods, or lands,
Or which you like best int' your hands.
For law's the wisdom of all ages,
And manag'd by the ablest sages; 440
Who, though their bus'ness at the bar
Be but a kind of civil war,
In which th' engage with fiercer dudgeons
Than e'er the GRECIANS did and TROJANS,
They never manage the contest 445
T' impair their public interest;
Or by their controversies lessen
The dignity of their profession:
Not like us Brethren, who divide
Our Commonwealth, the Cause, and Side; 450
And though w' are all as near of kindred
As th' outward man is to the inward,
We agree in nothing, but to wrangle
About the slightest fingle-fangle;
While lawyers have more sober sense 455
Than t' argue at their own expence,
But make their best advantages
Of others' quarrels, like the Swiss;
And, out of foreign controversies,
By aiding both sides, fill their purses; 460
But have no int'rest in the cause
For which th' engage, and wage the laws;
Nor further prospect than their pay,
Whether they lose or win the day:
And though th' abounded in all ages, 465
With sundry learned clerks and sages,
Though all their business be dispute,
Which way they canvass ev'ry suit,
Th' have no disputes about their art,
Nor in Polemicks controvert: 470
While all professions else are found
With nothing but disputes t' abound
Divines of all sorts, and physicians,
Philosophers, mathematicians:
The Galenist and Paracelsian 475
Condemn the way each other deals in:
Anatomists dissect and mangle,
To cut themselves out work to wrangle
Astrologers dispute their dreams,
That in their sleeps they talk of schemes: 480
And heralds stickle, who got who
So many hundred years ago.
But lawyers are too wise a nation
T' expose their trade to disputation;
Or make the busy rabble judges 485
Of all their secret piques and grudges;
In which whoever wins the day,
The whole profession's sure to pay.
Beside, no mountebanks, nor cheats,
Dare undertake to do their feats, 490
When in all other sciences
They swarm, like insects, and increase.
For what bigot durst ever draw,
By inward light, a deed in law?
Or could hold forth, by revelation, 495
An answer to a declaration?
For those that meddle with their tools
Will cut their fingers, if they're fools;
And if you follow their advice,
In bills, and answers, and replies, 500
They'll write a love-letter in chancery,
Shall bring her upon oath to answer ye,
And soon reduce her to b' your wife,
Or make her weary of her life.
The Knight, who us'd with tricks and shifts 505
To edify by RALPHO's Gifts,
But in appearance cry'd him down,
To make them better seem his own,
(All Plagiaries' constant course
Of sinking when they take a purse), 510
Resolv'd to follow his advice,
But kept it from him by disguise;
And, after stubborn contradiction,
To counterfeit his own conviction,
And by transition fall upon 515
The resolution as his own.
Quoth he, This gambol thou advisest
Is of all others the unwisest;
For if I think by law to gain her,
There's nothing sillier or vainer 520
'Tis but to hazard my pretence,
Where nothing's certain, but th' expence;
To act against myself, and traverse
My suit and title, to her favours
And if she shou'd (which Heav'n forbid) 525
O'erthrow me, as the fidler did,
What aftercourse have I to take,
'Gainst losing all I have at stake?
He that with injury is griev'd,
And goes to law to be reliev'd, 530
Is sillier than a sottish chowse,
Who, when thief has robb'd his house,
Applies himself to cunning men,
To help him to his goods agen;
When all he can expect to gain, 535
Is but to squander more in vain;
And yet I have no other way
But is as difficult to play.
For to reduce her by main force,
Is now in vain; by fair means, worse; 540
But worst of all, to give her over,
'Till she's as desp'rate to recover
For bad games are thrown up too soon,
Until th' are never to be won.
But since I have no other course, 545
But is as bad t' attempt, or worse,
He that complies against his will,
Is of his own opinion still;
Which he may adhere to, yet disown,
For reasons to himself best known: 550
But 'tis not to b' avoided now,
For SIDROPHEL resolves to sue;
Whom I must answer, or begin
Inevitably first with him.
For I've receiv'd advertisement, 555
By times enough, of his intent;
And knowing he that first complains
Th' advantage of the business gains;
For Courts of Justice understand
The plaintiff to be eldest hand; 560
Who what he pleases may aver;
The other, nothing, till he swear;
Is freely admitted to all grace,
And lawful favour, by his place;
And, for his bringing custom in, 565
Has all advantages to win.
I, who resolve to oversee
No lucky opportunity,
Will go to council, to advise
Which way t' encounter, or surprize, 570
And, after long consideration,
Have found out one to fit th' occasion;
Most apt for what I have to do,
As counsellor and justice too.
And truly so, no doubt, he was, 575
A lawyer fit for such a case.
An <z> old dull sot, who told the clock
For many years at Bridewell-dock,
At Westminster, and Hicks's-Hall,
And Hiccius Doctius play'd in all; 580
Where, in all governments and times,
H' had been both friend and foe to crimes,
And us'd two equal ways of gaining
By hind'ring justice or maintaining;
To many a whore gave priviledge, 585
And whipp'd for want of quarteridge:
Cart-loads of bawds to prison sent
For b'ing behind a fortnight's rent
And many a trusty pimp and croney
To <a> Puddle-dock for want of money; 590
Engag'd the constable to seize
All those that would not break the peace,
Nor give him back his own foul words,
Though sometimes Commoners or Lords,
And kept 'em prisoners of course, 595
For being sober at ill hours;
That in the morning he might free
Or bind 'em over for his fee;
Made <b> monsters fine, and puppet-plays,
For leave to practise in their ways; 600
Farm'd out all cheats, and went a share
With th' headborough and scavenger;
And made the dirt i' th' streets compound
For taking up the publick ground;
The kennel, and the King's highway, 605
For being unmolested, pay;
Let out the stocks, and whipping-post,
And cage, to those that gave him most;
Impos'd a tax on bakers' ears,
And for false weights on chandelers; 610
Made victuallers and vintners fine
For arbitrary ale and wine;
But was a kind and constant friend
To all that regularly offend;
As residentiary bawds, 615
And brokers that receive stol'n goods;
That cheat in lawful mysteries,
And pay church duties and his fees;
But was implacable, and awkward,
To all that interlop'd and hawker'd. 620
To this brave man the Knight repairs
For council in his law-affairs
And found him mounted in his pew,
With books and money plac'd for shew,
Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, 625
And for his false opinion pay
To whom the knight, with comely grace,
Put off his hat to put his case
Which he as proudly entertain'd
As th' other courteously strain'd; 630
And, to assure him 't was not that
He look'd for, bid him put on's hat.
Quoth he, There is one SIDROPHEL,
Whom I have cudgell'd — Very well.
And now he brags t' have beaten me. — 635
Better and better still, quoth he. —
And vows to stick me to a wall
Where-e'er he meets me — Best of all.
'Tis true, the knave has taken's oath
That I robb'd him — Well done, in troth 640
When h' has confess'd he stole my cloak,
And pick'd my fob, and what he took;
Which was the cause that made me bang him,
And take my goods again — Marry hang him.
Now whether I should before-hand, 645
Swear he robb'd me? — I understand.
Or bring my action of conversion
And trover for my goods? — Ah, Whoreson!
Or if 'tis better to indite,
And bring him to his trial? — Right. 650
Prevent what he designs to do,
And swear for th' State against him? — True.
Or whether he that is defendant
In this case has the better end on't;
Who, putting in a new cross-bill, 655
May traverse th' action? — Better still.
Then there's a Lady too — Aye, marry
That's easily prov'd accessary;
A widow, who, by solemn vows
Contracted to me for my spouse, 660
Combin'd with him to break her word,
And has abetted all. — Good Lord
Suborn'd th' aforesaid SIDROPHEL
To tamper with the Dev'l of Hell;
Who put m' into a horrid fear, 665
Fear of my life. — Make that appear.
Made an assault with fiends and men
Upon my body. — Good agen,
And kept me in a deadly fright,
And false imprisonment, all night 670
Mean while they robb'd me, and my horse,
And stole my saddle. — Worse and worse.
And made me mount upon the bare ridge,
T' avoid a wretcheder miscarriage.
Sir, quoth the Lawyer, not to flatter ye, 675
You have as good and fair a battery
As heart can wish, and need not shame
The proudest man alive to claim.
For if th' have us'd you as you say;
Marry, quoth I, God give you joy. 680
I wou'd it were my case, I'd give
More than I'll say, or you'll believe.
I would so trounce her, and her purse;
I'd make her kneel for better or worse;
For matrimony and hanging here 685
Both go by destiny so clear,
That you as sure may pick and choose,
As Cross, I win; and, Pile, you lose;
And, if I durst, I would advance
As much in ready maintenance, 690
As upon any case I've known,
But we that practise dare not own.
The law severely contrabands
Our taking bus'ness off men's hands;
'Tis common barratry, that bears 695
Point-blank an action 'gainst our ears
And crops them till there is not leather
To stick a pin in left of either;
For which some do the Summer-sault,
And o'er the bar, like tumblers, vault, 700
But you may swear, at any rate,
Things not in nature, for the State;
For in all courts of justice here
A witness is not said to swear,
But make oath; that is, in plain terms, 705
To forge whatever he affirms.
(I thank you, quoth the Knight, for that,
Because 'tis to my purpose pat — )
For Justice, though she's painted blind,
Is to the weaker Side inclin'd, 710
Like Charity; else right and wrong
Could never hold it out so long,
And, like blind Fortune, with a slight
Convey mens' interest and right
From <c> Stiles's pocket into Nokes's, 715
As easily as Hocus Pocus;
Play fast and loose; make men obnoxious,
And clear again, like Hiccius Doctius.
Then whether you wou'd take her life,
Or but recover her for your wife, 720
Or be content with what she has,
And let all other matters pass,
The bus'ness to the law's alone,
The proof is all it looks upon:
And you can want no witnesses 725
To swear to any thing you please,
That hardly get their mere expences
By th' labour of their consciences;
Or letting out to hire their ears
To affidavit customers, 730
At inconsiderable values,
To serve for jury-men or tallies,
Although retain'd in th' hardest matters,
Of trustees and administrators.
For that, quoth he, let me alone; 735
W' have store of such, and all our own;
Bred up and tutor'd by our teachers,
The ablest of conscience-stretchers.
That's well, quoth he; but I should guess,
By weighing all advantages, 740
Your surest way is first to pitch
On <d> BONGEY for a water-witch;
And when y' have hang'd the conjurer,
Y' have time enough to deal with her.
In th' int'rim, spare for no trepans 745
To draw her neck into the bans
Ply her with love-letters and billets,
And bait 'em well, for quirks and quillets
With trains t' inveigle, and surprize,
Her heedless answers and replies; 750
And if she miss the mouse-trap lines,
They'll serve for other by-designs;
And make an artist understand
To copy out her seal or hand;
Or find void places in the paper 755
To steal in something to intrap her
Till, with her worldly goods and body,
Spight of her heart, she has endow'd ye,
Retain all sorts of witnesses,
That ply i' th' Temple under trees; 760
Or walk the round, with knights o' th' posts,
About the cross-legg'd knights, their hosts;
Or wait for customers between
The pillars-rows in Lincoln's-Inn
Where vouchers, forgers, common-bail, 765
And affidavit-men, ne'er fail
T' expose to sale all sorts of oaths,
According to their ears and cloaths,
Their only necessary tools,
Besides the Gospel and their souls; 770
And when y' are furnish'd with all purveys,
I shall be ready at your service.
I would not give, quoth HUDIBRAS,
A straw to understand a case,
Without the admirable skill 775
To wind and manage it at will;
To vere, and tack, and steer a cause
Against the weather-gage of laws;
And ring the changes upon cases
As plain as noses upon faces, 780
As you have well instructed me,
For which you've earn'd (here 'tis) your fee.
I long to practise your advice,
And try the subtle artifice;
To bait a letter, as you bid; 785
As not long after, thus he did
For having pump'd up all his wit,
And humm'd upon it, thus he writ.
NOTES TO PART III CANTO III.
8 q Than Hags with all their Imps and Teats.] Alluding to the vulgar opinion, that witches have their imps, or familiar spirits, that are employed in their diabolical practices, and suck private teats they have about them.
15 r As Rosi-crucian Virtuosos, &c.] The Rosicrusians were a sect that appeared in Germany in the beginning of the XVIIth age. They are also called the Enlightened, Immortal, and Invisible. They are a very enthusiastical sort of men, and hold many wild and extravagant opinions.
36 s From Marshal Legion's Regiment.] He used to preach, as if they might expect legions to drop down from heaven, for the propagation of the good Old Cause.
145 t More plainly than the Reverend Writer, &c.] A most Reverend Prelate, A. B. of Y. who sided with the disaffected party.
261 u If the Ancients crown'd their bravest Men, &c.] The Romans highly honoured, and nobly rewarded, those persons that were instrumental in the preservation of the lives of their citizens, either in battle or otherwise
305 w Or else their Sultan Populaces, &c.] The Author compares the arbitrary actings of the ungovernable mob to the Sultan or Grand Signior, who very seldom fails to sacrifice any of his chief commanders, called Bassas, if they prove unsuccessful in battle.
350 x As the ancient Mice attack'd the Frogs.) Homer wrote a poem of the War between the Mice and the Frogs.
383 y And stout Rinaldo gain'd his Bride, &c.] A story in Tasso, an Italian Poet, of a hero that gained his mistress by conquering her party.
577 z An old dull Sot, who told the Clock, &c.] Prideux, a justice of peace, a very pragmatical busy person in those times, and a mercenary and cruel magistrate, infamous for the following methods of getting of money among many others.
589 a And many a trusty Pimp and Croney, &c.] There was a gaol for puny offenders.
599 b Made Monsters fine, and Puppet-plays, &c.] He extorted money from those that kept shows.
715 c From Stiles's Pocket into Nokes's, &c.] John a Nokes, and John a Stiles, are two fictitious names made use of in stating cases of law only.
742 d On BONGEY for a Water Witch.] Bongey was a Franciscan, and lived towards the end of the thirteenth century, a doctor of divinity in Oxford; and a particular acquaintance of Friar Bacon's. In that ignorant age, every thing that seemed extraordinary was reputed magick; and so both Bacon and Bongey went under the imputation of studying the black-art. Bongey also, publishing a treatise of Natural Magick, confirmed some well-meaning credulous people in this opinion; but it was altogether groundless; for Bongey was chosen provincial of his order, being a person of most excellent parts and piety.
AN HEROICAL EPISTLE OF HUDIBRAS TO HIS LADY.
I who was once as great as CAESAR,
Am now reduc'd to NEBUCHADNEZZAR;
And from as fam'd a conqueror
As ever took degree in war,
Or did his exercise in battle, 5
By you turn'd out to grass with cattle:
For since I am deny'd access
To all my earthly happiness
Am fallen from the paradise
Of your good graces, and fair eyes; 10
Lost to the world, and you, I'm sent
To everlasting banishment;
Where all the hopes I had t' have won
Your heart, b'ing dash'd, will break my own.
Yet if you were not so severe 15
To pass your doom before you hear,
You'd find, upon my just defence,
How much y' have wrong'd my innocence.
That once I made a vow to you,
Which yet is unperformed, 'tis true: 20
But not because it is unpaid,
'Tis violated, though delay'd;
Or, if it were, it is no fau't,
So heinous as you'd have it thought;
To undergo the loss of ears, 25
Like vulgar hackney perjurers
For there's a diff'rence in the case,
Between the noble and the base,
Who always are observ'd t' have done't
Upon as different an account: 30
The one for great and weighty cause,
To salve in honour ugly flaws;
For none are like to do it sooner
Than those who are nicest of their honour:
The other, for base gain and pay, 35
Forswear, and perjure by the day;
And make th' exposing and retailing
Their souls and consciences a calling.
It is no scandal, nor aspersion,
Upon a great and noble person, 40
To say he nat'rally abhorr'd
Th' old-fashion'd trick, To keep his word;
Though 'tis perfidiousness and shame
In meaner men to do the same:
For to be able to forget, 45
Is found more useful to the great,
Than gout, or deafness, or bad eyes,
To make 'em pass for wond'rous wise.
But though the law on perjurers
Inflicts the forfeiture of ears, 50
It is not just that does exempt
The guilty, and punish th' innocent;
To make the ears repair the wrong
Committed by th' ungovern'd tongue;
And when one member is forsworn, 55
Another to be cropt or torn.
And if you shou'd, as you design,
By course of law, recover mine,
You're like, if you consider right,
To gain but little honour by't. 60
For he that for his lady's sake
Lays down his life or limbs at stake,
Does not so much deserve her favour,
As he that pawns his soul to have her,
This y' have acknowledg'd I have done, 65
Although you now disdain to own;
But sentence what you rather ought
T' esteem good service than a fau't.
Besides, oaths are not bound to bear
That literal sense the words infer, 70
But, by the practice of the age,
Are to be judg'd how far th' engage;
And, where the sense by custom's checkt,
Are found void, and of none effect.
For no man takes or keeps a vow 75
But just as he sees others do;
Nor are th' oblig'd to be so brittle,
As not to yield and bow a little:
For as best-temper'd blades are found,
Before they break, to bend quite round, 80
So truest oaths are still most tough,
And though they bow, are breaking proof.
Then wherefore should they not b' allow'd
In love a greater latitude?
For as the law of arms approves 85
All ways to conquest, so should love's;
And not be ty'd to true or false,
But make that justest that prevails
For how can that which is above
All empire, high and mighty love, 90
Submit its great prerogative
To any other power alive?
Shall love, that to no crown gives place,
Become the subject of a case?
The fundamental law of nature, 95
Be over-rul'd by those made after?
Commit the censure of its cause
To any but its own great laws?
Love, that's the world's preservative, 100
That keeps all souls of things alive;
Controuls the mighty pow'r of fate,
And gives mankind a longer date;
The life of nature, that restores
As fast as time and death devours;
To whose free-gift the world does owe, 105
Not only earth, but heaven too;
For love's the only trade that's driven,
The interest of state in heav'n,
Which nothing but the soul of man
Is capable to entertain. 110
For what can earth produce, but love
To represent the joys above?
Or who but lovers can converse,
Like angels, by <e> the eye-discourse?
Address and compliment by vision; 115
Make love and court by intuition?
And burn in amorous flames as fierce
As those celestial ministers?
Then how can any thing offend,
In order to so great an end? 120
Or heav'n itself a sin <f> resent,
That for its own supply was meant?
That merits, in a kind mistake,
A pardon for th' offence's sake.
Or if it did not, but the cause 125
Were left to th' injury at laws,
What tyranny can disapprove
There should be equity in love;
For laws that are inanimate,
And feel no sense of love or hate, 130
That have no passion of their own,
Nor pity to be wrought upon,
Are only proper to inflict
Revenge on criminals as strict
But to have power to forgive, 135
Is empire and prerogative;
And 'tis in crowns a nobler gem
To grant a pardon than condemn.
Then since so few do what they ought,
'Tis great t' indulge a well-meant fau't. 140
For why should he who made address,
All humble ways, without success,
And met with nothing, in return,
But insolence, affronts, and scorn,
Not strive by wit to countermine, 145
And bravely carry his design?
He who was us'd so unlike a soldier,
Blown up with philters of love-powder?
And after letting blood, and purging,
Condemn'd to voluntary scourging; 150
Alarm'd with many a horrid fright,
And claw'd by goblins in the night;
Insulted on, revil'd, and jeer'd,
With rude invasion of his beard;
And when your sex was foully scandal'd, 155
As foully by the rabble handled;
Attack'd by despicable foes,
And drub'd with mean and vulgar blows;
And, after all, to be debarr'd
So much as standing on his guard; 160
When horses, being spurr'd and prick'd,
Have leave to kick for being kick'd?
Or why should you, whose mother-wits
Are furnish'd with all perquisites,
That with your breeding-teeth begin, 165
And nursing babies, that lie in,
B' allow'd to put all tricks upon
Our cully sex, and we use none?
We, who have nothing but frail vows
Against your stratagems t' oppose; 170
Or oaths more feeble than your own,
By which we are no less put down?
You wound, like <g> Parthians, while you fly,
And kill with a retreating eye:
Retire the more, the more we press 175
To draw us into ambushes.
As pirates all false colours wear
T' intrap th' unwary mariner,
So women, to surprise us, spread
The borrow'd flags of white and red; 180
Display 'em thicker on their cheeks
Than their old grandmothers, the Picts;
And raise more devils with their looks,
Than conjurer's less subtle books;
Lay trains of amorous intrigues, 185
In tow'rs, and curls, and perriwigs,
With greater art and cunning rear'd,
Than <h> PHILIP NYE's thanksgiving beard,
Prepost'rously t' entice, and gain
Those to adore 'em they disdain; 190
And only draw 'em in, to clog
With idle names a catalogue.
A lover is, the more he's brave,
T' his mistress but the more a slave;
And whatsoever she commands, 195
Becomes a favour from her hands;
Which he's obliged t' obey, and must,
Whether it be unjust or just.
Then when he is compell'd by her
T' adventures he would else forbear, 200
Who with his honour can withstand,
Since force is greater than command?
And when necessity's obey'd,
Nothing can be unjust or bad
And therefore when the mighty pow'rs 205
Of love, our great ally and yours,
Join'd forces not to be withstood
By frail enamour'd flesh and blood,
All I have done, unjust or ill,
Was in obedience to your will; 210
And all the blame that can be due,
Falls to your cruelty and you.
Nor are those scandals I confest,
Against my will and interest,
More than is daily done of course 215
By all men, when they're under force;
When some upon the rack confess
What th' hangman and their prompters please;
But are no sooner out of pain,
Than they deny it all again. 220
But when the Devil turns confessor,
Truth is a crime he takes no pleasure
To hear, or pardon, like the founder
Of liars, whom they all claim under
And therefore, when I told him none, 225
I think it was the wiser done.
Nor am I without precedent,
The first that on th' adventure went
All mankind ever did of course,
And daily dues the same, or worse. 230
For what romance can show a lover,
That had a lady to recover,
And did not steer a nearer course,
To fall a-board on his amours?
And what at first was held a crime, 235
Has turn'd to honourable in time.
To what a height did <i> infant ROME,
By ravishing of women, come
When men upon their spouses seiz'd,
And freely marry'd where they pleas'd, 240
They ne'er forswore themselves, nor ly'd.
Nor, in the mind they were in, dy'd;
Nor took the pains t' address and sue,
Nor play'd the masquerade to woo;
Disdain'd to stay for friends' consents; 245
Nor juggled about settlements:
Did need no license, nor no priest,
Nor friends, nor kindred, to assist;
Nor lawyers, to join land and money
In th' holy state of matrimony, 250
Before they settled hands and hearts,
Till <k> alimony or death them parts:
Nor wou'd endure to stay until
Th' had got the very bride's good will;
But took a wise and shorter course 255
To win the ladies, downright force.
And justly made 'em prisoners then,
As they have often since, us men,
With acting plays, and dancing jigs,
The luckiest of all love's intrigues; 260
And when they had them at their pleasure,
Then talk'd of love and flames at leisure;
For after matrimony's over,
He that holds out but half a lover,
Deserves for ev'ry minute more 265
Than half a year of love before;
For which the dames in contemplation
Of that best way of application,
Prov'd nobler wives than e'er was known,
By suit or treaty to be won; 270
And such as all posterity
Cou'd never equal nor come nigh.
For women first were made for men,
Not men for them. — It follows, then,
That men have right to ev'ry one, 275
And they no freedom of their own
And therefore men have pow'r to chuse,
But they no charter to refuse.
Hence 'tis apparent, that what course
Soe'er we take to your amours, 280
Though by the indirectest way,
'Tis no injustice, nor foul play;
And that you ought to take that course,
As we take you, for better or worse;
And gratefully submit to those 285
Who you, before another, chose.
For why should ev'ry savage beast
Exceed his great lord's interest?
Have freer pow'r than he in grace,
And nature, o'er the creature has? 290
Because the laws he since has made
Have cut off all the pow'r he had;
Retrench'd the absolute dominion
That nature gave him over women;
When all his pow'r will not extend 295
One law of nature to suspend;
And but to offer to repeal
The smallest clause, is to rebel.
This, if men rightly understood
Their privilege, they wou'd make good; 300
And not, like sots, permit their wives
T' encroach on their prerogatives;
For which sin they deserve to be
Kept, as they are, in slavery:
And this some precious Gifted Teachers, 305
Unrev'rently reputed leachers,
And disobey'd in making love,
Have vow'd to all the world to prove,
And make ye suffer, as you ought,
For that uncharitable fau't. 310
But I forget myself, and rove
Beyond th' instructions of my love.
Forgive me (Fair) and only blame
Th' extravagancy of my flame,
Since 'tis too much at once to show 315
Excess of love and temper too.
All I have said that's bad and true,
Was never meant to aim at you,
Who have so sov'reign a controul
O'er that poor slave of yours, my soul, 320
That, rather than to forfeit you,
Has ventur'd loss of heaven too:
Both with an equal pow'r possest,
To render all that serve you blest:
But none like him, who's destin'd either 325
To have, or lose you, both together.
And if you'll but this fault release
(For so it must be, since you please)
I'll pay down all that vow, and more,
Which you commanded, and I swore, 330
And expiate upon my skin
Th' arrears in full of all my sin.
For 'tis but just that I should pay
Th' accruing penance for delay,
Which shall be done, until it move 335
Your equal pity and your love.
The Knight, perusing this Epistle,
Believ'd h' had brought her to his whistle;
And read it like a jocund lover,
With great applause t' himself, twice over; 340
Subscrib'd his name, but at a fit
And humble distance to his wit;
And dated it with wond'rous art,
Giv'n from the bottom of his heart;
Then seal'd it with his Coat of Love, 345
A smoaking faggot — and above,
Upon a scroll — I burn, and weep;
And near it — For her Ladyship;
Of all her sex most excellent,
These to her gentle hands present. 350
Then gave it to his faithful Squire,
With lessons how t' observe and eye her.
She first consider'd which was better,
To send it back, or burn the letter.
But guessing that it might import, 355
Though nothing else, at least her sport,
She open'd it, and read it out,
With many a smile and leering flout:
Resolv'd to answer it in kind,
And thus perform'd what she design'd. 360
NOTES ON HUDIBRAS's EPISTLE TO HIS LADY.
113 e Or who but Lovers can converse, &c.] Metaphysicians are of opinion, that angels and souls departed, being divested of all gross matter, understand each other's sentiments by intuition, and consequently maintain a sort of conversation without the organs of speech.
121 f Or Heav'n itself a Sin resent, &c.] In regard children are capable of being inhabitants of Heaven, therefore it should not resent it as a crime to supply store of inhabitants for it.
173 g You wound like Parthians while you fly, &c.] Parthians are the inhabitants of a province in Persia: They were excellent horsemen, and very exquisite at their bows; and it is reported of them, that they generally slew more on their retreat than they did in the engagement.
188 h Than Philip Nye's Thanksgiving Beard ] One of the Assembly of Divines, very remarkable for the singularity of his beard.
237 i To what a Height did Infant Rome, &c.] When Romulus had built Rome, he made it an asylum, or place of refuge, for all malefactors, and others obnoxious to the laws to retire to; by which means it soon came to be very populous; but when he began to consider, that, without propagation, it would soon be destitute of inhabitants, he invented several fine shows, and invited the young Sabine women, then neighbours to them; and when they had them secure, they ravished them; from whence proceeded so numerous an offspring.
252 k Till Alimony or Death them parts.] Alimony is an allowance that the law gives the woman for her separate maintenance upon living from her husband. That and death are reckoned the only separations in a married state.
THE LADY'S ANSWER TO THE KNIGHT.
THAT you're a beast, and turn'd to grass,
Is no strange news, nor ever was;
At least to me, who once you know,
Did from the pound replevin you,
When both your sword and spurs were won 5
In combat by an Amazon.
That sword, that did (like Fate) determine
Th' inevitable death of vermine,
And never dealt its furious blows,
But cut the throats of pigs and cows, 10
By TRULLA was, in single fight,
Disarm'd and wrested from its knight;
Your heels degraded of your spurs,
And in the stocks close prisoners;
Where still they'd lain, in base restraint, 15
If I, in pity of your complaint,
Had not on honourable conditions,
Releast 'em from the worst of prisons
And what return that favour met
You cannot (though you wou'd) forget; 20
When, being free, you strove t' evade
The oaths you had in prison made;
Forswore yourself; and first deny'd it,
But after own'd and justify'd it
And when y' had falsely broke one vow, 25
Absolv'd yourself by breaking two.
For while you sneakingly submit,
And beg for pardon at our feet,
Discourag'd by your guilty fears,
To hope for quarter for your ears, 30
And doubting 'twas in vain to sue,
You claim us boldly as your due;
Declare that treachery and force,
To deal with us, is th' only course;
We have no title nor pretence 35
To body, soul, or conscience;
But ought to fall to that man's share
That claims us for his proper ware.
These are the motives which, t' induce
Or fright us into love, you use. 40
A pretty new way of gallanting,
Between soliciting and ranting;
Like sturdy beggars, that intreat
For charity at once, and threat.
But since you undertake to prove 45
Your own propriety in love,
As if we were but lawful prize
In war between two enemies,
Or forfeitures, which ev'ry lover,
That wou'd but sue for, might recover, 50
It is not hard to understand
The myst'ry of this bold demand,
That cannot at our persons aim,
But something capable of claim.
'Tis not those paultry counterfeit 55
French stones, which in our eyes you set,
But our right diamonds, that inspire
And set your am'rous hearts on fire.
Nor can those false St. Martin's beads,
Which on our lips you lay for reds, 60
And make us wear, like Indian dames,
Add fuel to your scorching flames;
But those true rubies of the rock,
Which in our cabinets we lock.
'Tis not those orient pearls our teeth, 65
That you are so transported with;
But those we wear about our necks,
Produce those amorous effects.
Nor is't those threads of gold, our hair,
The periwigs you make us wear, 70
But those bright guineas in our chests,
That light the wild fire in your breasts.
These love-tricks I've been vers'd in so,
That all their sly intrigues I know,
And can unriddle, by their tones, 75
Their mystick cabals and jargones;
Can tell what passions, by their sounds,
Pine for the beauties of my grounds;
What raptures fond and amorous
O' th' charms and graces of my house; 80
What extasy and scorching flame,
Burns for my money in my name;
What from th' unnatural desire
To beasts and cattle takes its fire;
What tender sigh, and trickling tear, 85
Longs for a thousand pounds a year;
And languishing transports are fond
Of statute, mortgage, bill, and bond.
These are th' attracts which most men fall
Inamour'd, at first sight, withal 90
To these th' address with serenades,
And court with balls and masquerades;
And yet, for all the yearning pain
Y' have suffer'd for their loves in vain,
I fear they'll prove so nice and coy 95
To have, and t' hold and to enjoy
That all your oaths and labour lost,
They'll ne'er turn ladies of the post.
This is not meant to disapprove
Your judgment in your choice of love; 100
Which is so wise, the greatest part
Of mankind study 't as an art;
For love shou'd, like a deodand,
Still fall to th' owner of the land;
And where there's substance for its ground, 105
Cannot but be more firm and sound
Than that which has the slightest basis
Of airy virtue, wit, and graces;
Which is of such thin subtlety,
It steals and creeps in at the eye, 110
And, as it can't endure to stay,
Steals out again as nice a way.
But love, that its extraction owns
From solid gold and precious stones
Must, like its shining parents, prove 115
As solid and as glorious love.
Hence 'tis you have no way t'express
Our charms and graces but by these:
For what are lips, and eyes, and teeth,
Which beauty invades and conquers with, 120
But rubies, pearls, and diamonds,
With which a philter-love commands?
This is the way all parents prove,
In managing their childrens' love;
That force 'em t' intermarry and wed, 125
As if th' were bur'ing of the dead;
Cast earth to earth, as in the grave,
To join in wedlock all they have:
And when the settlement's in force,
Take all the rest for better or worse; 130
For money has a power above
The stars and fate to manage love;
Whose arrows, learned poets hold,
That never miss, are tipp'd with gold.
And though some say, the parents' claims 135
To make love in their childrens' names,
Who many times at once provide
The nurse, the husband, and the bride
Feel darts and charms, attracts and flames,
And woo and contract in their names; 140
And as they christen, use to marry 'em,
And, like their gossips, answer for 'em;
Is not to give in matrimony,
But sell and prostitute for money;
'Tis better than their own betrothing, 145
Who often do't for worse than nothing;
And when th' are at their own dispose,
With greater disadvantage choose.
All this is right; but for the course
You take to do't, by fraud or force, 150
'Tis so ridiculous, as soon
As told, 'tis never to be done;
No more than setters can betray,
That tell what tricks they are to play.
Marriage, at best, is but a vow, 155
Which all men either break or bow:
Then what will those forbear to do,
Who perjure when they do but woo?
Such as before-hand swear and lie
For earnest to their treachery; 160
And, rather than a crime confess,
With greater strive to make it less;
Like thieves, who, after sentence past,
Maintain their innocence to the last;
And when their crimes were made appear 165
As plain as witnesses can swear,
Yet, when the wretches come to die,
Will take upon their death a lie,
Nor are the virtues you confest
T' your ghostly father, as you guest, 170
So slight as to be justify'd
By being as shamefully deny'd,
As if you thought your word would pass
Point-blank on both sides of a case;
Or credit were not to be lost 175
B' a brave Knight-Errant of the Post,
That eats perfidiously his word,
And swears his ears through a two inch board:
Can own the same thing, and disown,
And perjure booty, Pro and Con: 180
Can make the Gospel serve his turn,
And help him out, to be forsworn;
When 'tis laid hands upon, and kist,
To be betray'd and sold like Christ.
These are the virtues in whose name 185
A right to all the world you claim,
And boldly challenge a dominion,
In grace and nature, o'er all women;
Of whom no less will satisfy
Than all the sex your tyranny, 190
Although you'll find it a hard province,
With all your crafty frauds and covins,
To govern such a num'rous crew,
Who, one by one, now govern you:
For if you all were SOLOMONS, 195
And wise and great as he was once,
You'll find they're able to subdue
(As they did him) and baffle you.
And if you are impos'd upon
'Tis by your own temptation done, 200
That with your ignorance invite;
And teach us how to use the slight.
For when we find y' are still more taken
With false attracts of our own making;
Swear that's a rose, and that a stone, 205
Like sots, to us that laid it on,
And what we did but slightly prime,
Most ignorantly daub in rhime;
You force us, in our own defences,
To copy beams and influences; 210
To lay perfections on the graces,
And draw attracts upon our faces;
And, in compliance to your wit,
Your own false jewels counterfeit.
For, by the practice of those arts 215
We gain a greater share of hearts;
And those deserve in reason most
That greatest pains and study cost;
For great perfections are, like heaven,
Too rich a present to be given. 220
Nor are these master-strokes of beauty
To be perform'd without hard duty,
Which, when they're nobly done and well,
The simple natural excell.
How fair and sweet the planted rose 225
Beyond the wild in hedges grows!
For without art the noblest seeds
Of flow'rs degen'rate into weeds.
How dull and rugged, e're 'tis ground
And polish'd, looks a diamond! 230
Though Paradise were e'er so fair,
It was not kept so without care.
The whole world, without art and dress,
Would be but one great wilderness;
And mankind but a savage herd, 235
For all that nature has conferr'd.
This does but rough-hew, and design;
Leaves art to polish and refine.
Though women first were made for men,
Yet men were made for them agen; 240
For when (outwitted by his wife)
Man first turn'd tenant but for life,
If women had not interven'd,
How soon had mankind had an end!
And that it is in being yet, 245
To us alone you are in debt.
And where's your liberty of choice,
And our unnatural No Voice?
Since all the privilege you boast,
And falsly usurp'd, or vainly lost, 250
Is now our right; to whose creation
You owe your happy restoration:
And if we had not weighty cause
To not appear, in making laws,
We could, in spite of all your tricks, 255
And shallow, formal politicks,
Force you our managements t' obey,
As we to yours (in shew) give way.
Hence 'tis that, while you vainly strive
T' advance your high prerogative, 260
You basely, after all your braves,
Submit, and own yourselves our slaves;
And 'cause we do not make it known,
Nor publickly our int'rest own,
Like sots, suppose we have no shares 265
In ord'ring you and your affairs;
When all your empire and command
You have from us at second hand
As if a pilot, that appears
To sit still only while he steers, 270
And does not make a noise and stir
Like ev'ry common mariner,
Knew nothing of the card, nor star,
And did not guide the man of war;
Nor we, because we don't appear 275
In councils, do not govern there;
While, like the mighty <m> PRESTER JOHN,
Whose person none dares look upon,
But is preserv'd in close disguise,
From being made cheap to vulgar eyes, 280
W' enjoy as large a pow'r unseen,
To govern him, as he does men;
And in the right of our Pope JOAN,
Make Emp'rors at our feet fall down;
Or <n> JOAN DE PUCEL'S braver name, 285
Our right to arms and conduct claim;
Who, though a Spinster, yet was able
To serve FRANCE for a Grand Constable.
We make and execute all laws;
Can judge the judges and the cause; 290
Prescribe all rules of right or wrong
To th' long robe, and the longer tongue;
'Gainst which the world has no defence;
But our more pow'rful eloquence.
We manage things of greatest weight 295
In all the world's affairs of state
Are ministers of war and peace,
That sway all nations how we please.
We rule all churches and their flocks,
Heretical and orthodox; 300
And are the heavenly vehicles
O' th' spirits in all conventicles.
By us is all commerce and trade
Improv'd, and manag'd, and decay'd;
For nothing can go off so well, 305
Nor bears that price, as what we sell.
We rule in ev'ry publique meeting,
And make men do what we judge fitting;
Are magistrates in all great towns,
Where men do nothing but wear gowns. 310
We make the man of war strike sail,
And to our braver conduct veil,
And, when h' has chac'd his enemies,
Submit to us upon his knees.
Is there an officer of state 315
Untimely rais'd, or magistrate,
That's haughty and imperious?
He's but a journeyman to us.
That as he gives us cause to do't,
Can keep him in, or turn him out. 320
We are your guardians, that increase
Or waste your fortunes how we please;
And, as you humour us, can deal
In all your matters, ill or well.
'Tis we that can dispose alone, 325
Whether your heirs shall be your own,
To whose integrity you must,
In spight of all your caution, trust;
And, 'less you fly beyond the seas,
Can fit you with what heirs we please; 330
And force you t' own 'em, though begotten
By French Valets or Irish Footmen.
Nor can the vigorousest course
Prevail, unless to make us worse;
Who still, the harsher we are us'd, 335
Are further off from b'ing reduc'd;
And scorn t' abate, for any ills,
The least punctilios of our wills.
Force does but whet our wits t' apply
Arts, born with us, for remedy; 340
Which all your politicks, as yet,
Have ne'er been able to defeat:
For when y' have try'd all sorts of ways,
What fools d' we make of you in plays!
While all the favours we afford, 345
Are but to girt you with the sword,
To fight our battles in our steads,
And have your brains beat out o' your heads;
Encounter, in despite of nature,
And fight at once, with fire and water, 350
With pirates, rocks, and storms, and seas,
Our pride and vanity t' appease;
Kill one another, and cut throats,
For our good graces, and best thoughts;
To do your exercise for honour, 355
And have your brains beat out the sooner;
Or crack'd, as learnedly, upon
Things that are never to be known;
And still appear the more industrious,
The more your projects are prepost'rous; 360
To square the circle of the arts,
And run stark mad to shew your parts;
Expound the oracle of laws,
And turn them which way we see cause
Be our solicitors and agents, 365
And stand for us in all engagements.
And these are all the mighty pow'rs
You vainly boast to cry down ours;
And what in real value's wanting,
Supply with vapouring and ranting; 370
Because yourselves are terrify'd,
And stoop to one another's pride,
Believe we have as little wit
To be out-hector'd, and submit;
By your example, lose that right 375
In treaties which we gain'd in fight;
And, terrify'd into an awe,
Pass on ourselves a <o> Salique law: