Hudibras, in three parts

CANTO I.— Argument

Sir Hudibras his passing worth, The manner how he sally'd forth ;

His arms and equipage are shown, His horse's virtues, and his own.

Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.

When civil dudgeon first grew high,

And men fell out they knew not why ; When hard words, jealousies, and fears Set folks together by the ears, And made them fight, like mad or drunk, For Dame Religion, as for punk,

Whose honesty they all durst swear for,

Tho' not a man of them knew wherefore ;

When gospel-trumpeter, surrounded

With long-eafd rout, to battle sounded ; And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic, Was beat with fist, instead of a stick : Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling, And out he rode a colonelling.

A wight he was whose very sight would

Entitle him, Mirror of Knighthood ; That never bow'd his stubborn knee To any thing but chivalry ;

Nor put up blow, but that which laid

Right Worshipful on shoulder-blade : Chief of domestic knights and errant, Either for chartel or for warrant :

Great on the bench, great in the saddle,

That could as well bind o'er as swaddle : Mighty he was at both of these, And styl'd of war as well as peace. (So some rats, of amphibious nature, Are either for the land or water.) But here our authors make a doubt Whether he were more wise or stout.

Some hold the one, and some the other ;

But, howsoe'er they make a pother,

The difference was so small, his brain

Outweighed his rage but half a grain ;

Which made some take him for a tool

That knaves do work with, call'd a Fool.

For't has been held by many, that As Montaigne, playing with his cat,

Complains she thought him but an ass,

Much more she would Sir Hudibras, (For that's the name our valiant Knight To all his challenges did write) : But they're mistaken very much, ; Tis plain enough he was not such. We grant, altho' he had much wit, H' was very shy of using it ;

As being loth to wear it out, And therefore bore it not about,

Unless on holidays, or so, As men their best apparel do.

1—2

Beside, 'tis known he could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak ; That Latin was no more difficile, Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle : Being rich in both, he never scanted His bounty unto such as wanted : But much of either would afford To many, that had not one word.

For Hebrew roots, altho' they're found

To flourish most in barren ground, He had such plenty as sufficed To make some think him circumcis'd : And truly so he was, perhaps, Not as a proselyte, but for claps.

He was in logic a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in analytic :

He could distinguish and divide, A hair 'twixt south and south-west side ;

On either which he would dispute,

Confute, change hands, and still confute : He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse ; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl,

A calf an alderman, a goose a justice,

And rooks committee-men and trustees.

He'd run in debt by disputation, And pay with ratiocination.

All this by syllogism, true In mood and figure, he would do.

For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope, And when he happen'd to break off In th' middle of his speech, or cough, H' had hard words ready to shew why, And tell what rules he did it by ;

Else, when with greatest art he spoke,

You'd think he talk'd like other folk : For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools.

But, when he pleas'd to shew't, his speech In loftiness of sound was rich ; A Babylonish dialect, Which learned pedants much affect ;

It was a party-colour'd dress Of patch'd and piebald languages :

'Twas English cut on Greek and Latin, Like fustian heretofore on sattin. It had an odd promiscuous tone, As if h' had talk'd three parts in one ;

Which made some think, when he did gabble,

Th' had heard three labourers of Babel, Or Cerberus himself pronounce A leash of languages at once.

This he as volubly would vent As if his stock would ne'er be spent ; And truly ta support that charge, He had supplies as vast and large. For he could coin or counterfeit New words, with little or no wit ;

Words so debas'd and hard, no stone

Was hard enough to touch them on ;

And, when with hasty noise he spoke 'em,

The ignorant for current took 'em ; That had the orator, who once Did fill his mouth with pebble stones

When he harangu'd, but known his phrase,

He would have us'd no other ways.

In mathematics he was greater Than Tycho Brahe, or Erra Pater : For he, by geometric scale, Could take the size of pots of ale ;

Resolve by sines and tagents, straight, If bread or butter wanted weight ; And wisely tell what hour o' th' day The clock does strike by algebra.

Beside he was a shrewd philosopher,

And had read ev'ry text and gloss over ; Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath, He understood b' implicit faith : Whatever sceptic cou'd enquire for, For every why he had a wherefore ; Knew more than forty of them do As far as words and terms could go.

CANTO I. HUD1BRAS. 5

All which he understood by rote, And, as occasion served, would quote ; No matter whether right or wrong, They might be either said or sung. His notions fitted things so well, That which was which he could not tell, But oftentimes mistook the one For trr' other, as great clerks have done. He could reduce all things to acts,. And knew their natures by abstracts ; Where entitf- and quiddity, The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly ;

Where truth in person does appear,

Like words congeal'd in northern air.

He knew whafs what, and that's as high As metaphysic wit can fly. In school-divinity as able As he that hight Irrefragable j

A second Thomas, or at once To name them all, another Dunce :

Profound in all the nominal And real ways beyond them all ;

For he a rope of sand could twist As tough as learned Sorbonist ;

And weave fine cobwebs, fit for scull That's empty when the moon is full ; Such as take lodgings in a head That 7 s to be let unfurnished,

He cou'd raise scruples dark and nice And after solve 'em in a trice, As if divinity had catch'd The itch, on purpose to be scratched ;

Or, like a mountebank, did wound

And stab herself with doubts profound, Only to show with how small pain The sores of faith are cur'd again ; Altho' by woful proof we find They always leave a scar behind.

He knew the seat of paradise, Could tell in what degree it lies ;

And, as he was disposed, could prove it Below the moon, or else above it. What Adam dreamt of, when his bride Came from her closet in his side ; Whither the devil tempted her By a High Dutch interpreter ;

If either of them had a navel ; Who first made music malleable ;

Whether the serpent, at the fall, Had cloven feet, or none at all.

All this, without a gloss or comment, He could unriddle in a moment,

In proper terms, such as men smatter

When they throw out and miss the matter.

For his religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit :

? Twas Presbyterian true blue, For he was of that stubborn crew

Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true church militant ; Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun ;

Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery ;

And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks ; Call fire and sword, and desolation, A godly thorough reformation, Which always must be carried on, And still be doing, never done ; As if religion were intended For nothing else but to be mended.

A sect whose chief devotion lies In odd perverse antipathies ;

In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss :

More peevish, cross, and splenetic, Than dog distract, or monkey sick.

That with more care keep holiday

The wrong, than others the right way : ^Compound for sins they are inclin'd tc^V 1 By damning those they have no mind to.

Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshiped God for spite.

The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. Free-will they one way disavow, Another nothing else allow :

All piety consists therein In them, in other men all sin.

Rather than fail, they will defy That which they love most tenderly ;

6 HUDIBRAS. PART r.

Quarrel with minc'd-pies, and disparage

Their best and dearest friend plumb-porridge ; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard thro' the nose.

Th' apostles of this fierce religion,

Like Mahomet's, were ass and widgeon.

To whom our Knight, by fast instinct Of wit and temper, Was so link'd, As if hypocrisy and nonsense Had got th' adovvson of his conscience.

Thus was he gifted and accouter'd,

We mean on the inside, not the outward ; That next of all we shall discuss ; Then listen, Sirs, it follows thus : His tawny beard was th' equal grace Both of his wisdom and his face ; In cut and die so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile ;

The upper part whereof was whey ; The nether orange mix'd with grey. This hairy meteor did denounce The fall of scepters and of crowns : With grisly type did represent Declining age of government ;

And tell with hieroglyphic spade,

Its own grave and the state's were made.

Like Samson's heart-breakers, it grew In time to make a nation rue ; Tho' it contributed its own fall, To wait upon the public downfal.

It was monastic, and did grow In holy orders by strict vow ;

Of rule as sullen and severe, As that of rigid Cordelier :

'Twas bound to suffer persecution And martyrdom with resolution ; T' oppose itself against the hate And vengeance of th' incensed state, In whose defiance it was worn, Still ready to be pull'd and torn,

With red-hot irons to be tortur'd, ReviPd, and spit upon, and martyr'd. Maugre all which, 'twas to stand fast, As long as monarchy should last, But, when the state should hap to reel, 'Twas to submit to fatal steel, And fall, as it was consecrate, A sacrifice to fall of state.

Whose thread of life the fatal sisters

Did twist together with its whiskers,

And twine so close, that Time should never,

In life or death their fortunes sever, But with his rusty sickle mow Both down together at a blow.

So learned Taliacotius from The brawny part of porter's bum,

Cut supplemental noses, which Would last as long as parent breech ; But when the date of Nock was out, Off drop'd the sympathetic snout. His back, or rather burden, show'd As if it stoop'd with its own load : For as ^neas bore his sire, Upon his shoulders, thro' the fire,

Our Knight did bear no less a pack Of his own buttocks on his back :

Which now had almost got the upper- Hand of his head, for want of crupper.

To poise this equally, he bore A paunch of the same bulk before ;

Which still he had a special care

To keep well-cramm'd with thrifty fare ; As white-pot, butter-milk, and curds, Such as a country-house affords ; With other victual, which anon We farther shall dilate upon,

When of his hose we come to treat,

The cup-board, where he kept his meat.

His doublet was of sturdy buff, And tho' not sword- yet cudgel- proof;

Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,

Who fear'd no blows but such as bruise.

CANTO I. HUDIBRAS. 7

His breeches were of rugged woollen,

And had been at the siege of Bullen ;

To old King Harry so well known,

Some writers held they were his own.

Thro' they were lin'd with many a piece

Of ammunition, bread and cheese, And fat black-puddings, proper food For warriors that delight in blood : For, as we said, he always chose To carry victual in his hose,

That often tempted rats and mice The ammunition to surprise :

And when he put a hand but in The one or t' other magazine,

They stoutly in defence on't stood,

And from the wounded foe drew blood ; And till th' were storm'd and beaten out, Ne'er left the fortify'd redoubt.

And tho' knights-errant, as some think,

Of old did neither eat nor drink Because when thorough desarts vast And regions desolate they pass'd, Where belly-timber, above ground, Or under, was not to be found,

Unless they grazed, there's not one word Of their provision on record :

Which made some confidently write,

They had no stomachs but to fight ; 'Tis false : for Arthur wore in hall Round table, like a farthingal,

On which, with shirts pull'd out behind,

And eke before, his good knights din'd.

Though 'twas no table some suppose,

But a huge pair of round trunk hose, In which he carried as much meat As he and all his knights could eat,

When, laying by their swords and truncheons,

They took their breakfasts, or their nuncheons. But let that pass at present, lest We should forget where we digress'd, As learned authors use, to whom We leave it, and to th' purpose come. His puissant sword unto his side, Near his undaunted heart, was ty'd ;

With basket-hilt, that would hold broth,

And serve for fight and dinner both :

In it he melted lead for bullets,

To shoot at foes, and sometimes pullets ; To whom he bore so fell a grutch, He ne'er gave quarter t' any such.

The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty,

For want of fighting was grown rusty.

And ate into itself, for lack Of some body to hew and hack.

The peaceful scabbard where it dwelt The rancour of its edge had felt ; For of the lower end two handful It had devoured, 'twas so manful, And so much scorn'd to lurk in case, As if it durst not shew its face. In many desperate attempts Of warrants, exigents, contempts,

It had appear'd with courage bolder

Than Serjeant Bum invading shoulder.

Oft had it ta'en possession, And pris'ners too, or made them run.

This sword a dagger had, his page, That was but little for his age ; And therefore waited on him so, As dwarfs upon knights-errant do. It was a serviceable dudgeon, Either for fighting or for drudging.

When it had stabb'd, or broke a head,

It would scrape trenchers, or chip bread ;

Toast cheese or bacon, tho' it were To bait a mouse-trap, 'twould not care. 7 Twould make clean shoes, and in the earth Set leeks and onions, and so forth.

It had been 'prentice to a brewer, Where this and more it did endure ; But left the trade, as many more Have lately done on the same score. In th' holsters, at his saddle-bow, Two aged pistols he did stow,

Among the surplus of such meat As in his hose he could not get.

These would inveigle rats with th' scent, To forage when the cocks were bent ; And sometimes catch 'em with a snap, As cleverly as th' ablest trap. They were upon hard duty still, And every night stood centinel,

To guard the magazine i' th' hose From two-legg'd and from four-legg'd foes.

Thus clad and fortify'd, Sir Knight, From peaceful home, set forth to fight.

But first, with nimble active force, He got on the out-side of his horse; For having but one stirrup ty'd T' his saddle, on the further side,

It was so short, h' had much ado To reach it with his desp'rate toe : But, after many strains and heaves, He got up to the saddle-eaves, From whence he vaulted into th' seat, With so much vigour, strength and heat, That he had almost tumbled over With his own weight, but did recover, By laying hold on tail and main, Which oft he us'd instead of rein. But, now we talk of mounting steed, Before we further do proceed, It doth behove us to say something Of that which bore our valiant bumkin.

The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, With mouth of meal, and eyes of wall ; I would say eye, for h' had but one, As most agree, tho' some say none. He was well stay'd, and in his gate Preserv'd a grave, majestic state. At spur or switch no more he skipt, Or mended pace, when Spaniard whipt : And yet so fiery, he would bound, As if he griev'd to touch the ground ; That Caesar's horse, who, as fame goes, Had corns upon his feet and toes, Was not by half so tender hooft, Nor trod upon the ground so soft. And as that beast would kneel and stoop (Some write) to take his rider up ; So Hudibras his ('tis well known) Would often do to set him down. We shall not need to say what lack Of leather was upon his back ; For that was hidden under pad, And breech of Knight, gall'd full as bad.

His strutting ribs on both sides show'd Like furrows he himself had plow'd : For underneath the skirt of pannel, 'Twixt every two there was a channel.

His draggling tail hung in the dirt, Which on his rider he wou'd flurt Still as his tender side he prick'd With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd kick'd ;

canto I. HUD1BRAS. 9

For Hudibras wore but one spur, As wisely knowing, could he stir To active trot one side of 's horse, The other wou'd not hang on worse.

A Squire he had whose name was Ralph,

That in th' adventure went his half.

Though writers, for more stately tone, Do call him Ralpho, 'tis all one : And when we can with metre safe, We'll call him so ; if not plain Raph ;

(For rhyme the rudder is of verses,

With which like ships they steer their courses.) An equal stock of wit and valour He had lain in, by birth a tailor.

The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd,

With subtle shreds, a tract of land, Did leave it, with a castle fair, To his great ancestor, her heir ;

From him descended cross-legg'd knights,

Fam'd for their faith, and warlike fights Against the bloody canibal, Whom they destroy'd both great and small.

This sturdy Squire, he had, as well

As the bold Trojan Knight, seen hell, Not with a counterfeited pass Of golden bough, but true gold lace.

His knowledge was not far behind The knight's, but of another kind, And he another way came by't : Some call it gifts, and some new-light, A lib'ral art, that costs no pains Of study, industry, or brains.

His wit was sent him, for a token,

But in the carriage crack'd and broken ;

With — To and from my Love — it look'd.

He ne'er consider'd it, as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth 7

And very wisely would lay forth No more upon it than 'twas worth ; But as he got it freely, so He spent it frank and freely too :

IFor saints themselves will sometimes be, Of gifts that cost them nothing, free, By means of this, with hem and cough, Prolongers to enlighten'd stuff, He could deep mysteries unriddle, As easily as thread a needle,

For as of vagabonds we say, That they are ne'er beside their way ; What e'er men speak by this new light, Still they are sure to be i' th' right.

'Tis a dark-lanthorn of the spirit,

Which none see by but those that bear it ; A light that falls down from on high, For spiritual trades to cozen by ; An ignis fatuus that bewitches And leads men into pools and ditches,

To make them dip themselves, and sound

For Christendom in dirty pond ; To dive, like wild-fowl, for salvation, And fish to catch regeneration. This light inspires and plays upon The nose of saint, like bagpipe drone,

And speaks through hollow empty soul,

As through a trunk, or whisp'ring hole, Such language as no mortal ear But spiritu'l eaves-droppers can hear, So Phcebus, or some friendly muse, Into small poets song infuse,

Which they at second hand rehearse,

Thro' reed or bagpipe, verse for verse.

Thus Ralph became infallible, As three or four-legg'd oracle,

The ancient cup, or modern chair, Spoke truth point blank, tho' unaware. For mystic learning, wond'rous able In magic talisman and cabal,

IO HUDIBRAS. part i.

Whose primitive tradition reaches As far as Adam's first green breeches ; Deep-sighted in intelligences, Ideas, atoms, influences ;

And much of terra t7icog?iita, Th' intelligible world, could say ;

A deep occult philosopher, As learned as the wild Irish are,

Or Sir Agrippa, for profound And solid lying much renown'd ;

He Anthroposophus, and Floud And Jacob Behemen understood ;

Knew many an amulet and charm,

That would do neither good nor harm : In Rosicrucian lore as learned, As he that vere adeptus earned :

He understood the speech of birds As well as they themselves do words ;

Could tell what subtlest parrots mean,

That speak and think contrary clean ;

What member 'tis of whom they talk

When they cry Rope, and Walk, knave, walk.

He'd extract numbers out of matter, And keep them in a glass like water ;

Of sovereign power to make men wise ;

For, drop'd in blear thick-sighted eyes,

They'd make them see in darkest night,

Like owls, tho' purblind in the light.

By help of these (as he profess'd) He had first matter seen undress'd ; He took her naked all alone, Before one rag of form was on.

The chaos too he had descry'd, And seen quite thro', or else he ly'd :

Not that of paste-board, which men shew

For groats, at fair of Bartholomew ;

But its great grandsire, first o' th' name,

Whence that and reformation came, Both cousins-german, and right able T' inveigle and draw in the rabble. But reformation was, some say, O' th' younger house to puppet-play, He could foretel whatsoe'er was By consequence to come to pass.

As death of great men, alterations, Diseases, battles, inundations ;

All this without th' eclipse of the sun, Or dreadful comet, he hath done, By inward light, a way as good, And easy to be understood,

But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose,

Like knights o' th' post, and falsely charge

Upon themselves what others forge, As if they were consenting to All mischiefs in the world men do :

Or, like the devil, did tempt and sway 'em

To rogueries, and then betray 'em.

They'll search a planet's house to know

Who broke and robb'd a house below ; Examine Venus, and the Moon, Who stole a thimble or a spoon :

And though they nothing will confess, Yet by their very looks can guess,

And tell what guilty aspect bodes,

Who stole and who received the goods.

They'll question Mars, and by his look,

Detect who 'twas that nimm'd a cloak :

Make Mercury confess and 'peach

Those thieves which he himself did teach, They'll find, i' th' physiognomies O' th' planets, all men's destinies ; Like him that took the doctor's bill, And swallow'd it instead o' th' pill ; Cast the nativity o' th' question, And from positions to be guessed on.

CANTO I. HUDIBRAS. II

As sure as if they knew the moment

Of native's birth, tell what will come on't.

They'll feel the pulses of the stars, To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs ; And tell what crisis does divine The rot in sheep, or mange in swine ;

In men what gives or cures the itch,

What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich ;

What gains or losses, hangs or saves ;

What makes men great, what fools or knaves : But not what wise, or only of those The stars (they say) cannot dispose.

No more than can the astrologians :

There they say right, and like true Trojans,

This Ralpho knew, and therefore took

The other course, of which we spoke.

Thus was th' accomplish'd Squire endu'd

With gifts and knowledge, perilous shrewd.

Never did trusty Squire with Knight,

Or Knight with Squire e'er jump more right.

Their arms and equipage did fit, As well as virtues, parts, and wit : Their valours too were of a rate, And out they sally' d at the gate.

Few miles on horseback had they jogged,

For fortune unto them turn'd dogged ; For they a sad adventure met, Of which anon we mean to treat.

But ere we venture to unfold Atchievements so resolv'd and bold,

We should, as learned poets use, Invoke th' assistance of some muse : However critics count it sillier Than jugglers talking to familiar.

We think 'tis no great matter which ; They're all alike, yet we shall pitch On one that fits our purpose most, Whom therefore thus we do accost.

Thou that with ale, or viler liquorsp^.... .

Didst inspire Withers, Pryn, and Vicars, And force them, tho' it was in spite Of nature, and their stars, to write ; Who (as we find in sullen writs, And cross-grain'd works of modern wits) With vanity, opinion, want, The wonder of the ignorant,

The praises of the author penn'd B' himself, or wit-insuring friend ; The itch of picture in the front, With bays and wicked rhyme upon't, All that is left o' th' forked hill To make men scribble without skill ; Canst make a poet, spite of Fate, And teach all people to translate, Tho' out of languages, in which They understand no part of speech : Assist me but this once, Fmplore, And I shall trouble thee no more. In western clime there is a town, To those that dwell therein well known.

Therefore there needs no more be said here,

We unto them refer our reader : For brevity is very good, When w' are, or are not understood.

To this town people did repair On days of market, or of fair,

And to crack'd fiddle and hoarse tabor,

In merriment did trudge and labour.

But now a sport more formidable, Had rak'd together village rabble : ? Twas an old way of recreating, Which learned butchers call bear-baiting. A bold advent'rous exercise, With ancient heroes in high prize :

For authors do affirm it came From Isthmian or Nemean game ;

Others derive it from the bear That's fix'd in northern hemisphere, And round about the pole does make A circle like a bear at stake,

That at the chain's end wheels about, And overturns the rabble rout. For after solemn proclamation In the bear's name (as is the fashion According to the law of arms, To keep men from inglorious harms), That none presume to come so near As forty feet of stake of bear ; If any yet be so fool-hardy, T' expose themselves to vain jeopardy, If they come wounded off and lame, No honour's got by such a maim,

Altho' the bear gain much, b'ing bound

In honour to make good his ground, When he's engag'd, and takes no notice, If any press upon him, who 'tis ; But lets them know at their own cost, That he intends to keep his post. This to prevent, and other harms, Which always wait on feats of arms, (For in the hurry of the fray, 'Tis hard to keep out of harm's way,)

Thither the knight his course did steer,

To keep the peace 'twixt dog and bear ; As he believ'd he was bound to do In conscience and commission too.

And therefore thus bespoke the Squire :

We that are wisely mounted higher Than constables in curule wit, When on tribunal bench we sit,

Like speculators should foresee, From Pharos of authority,

Portended mischiefs farther than Low proletarian tything-men :

And therefore being inform'd, by bruit, That dog and bear are to dispute ; For so of late men fighting name, Because they often prove the same : (For where the first does hap to be, The last does coi?icidere)

Quantum in nobis, have thought good,

To save th' expence of Christian blood, And try if we by mediation Of treaty and accommodation

Can end the quarrel, and compose The bloody duel, without blows. Are not our liberties, our lives, The laws, religion, and our wives,

Enough at once to lie at stake For cov'nant and the cause's sake ;

But in that quarrel dogs and bears, As well as we, must venture theirs. This feud by Jesuits invented, By evil counsel is fomented ;

There is a Machiavilian plot, (Tho' ev'ry nare o If act it not)

And deep design in't to divide The well-affected that confide,

By setting brother against brother, To claw and curry one another. Have we not enemies pins fatis, That cane et angue pejus hate us ;

And shall we turn our fangs and claws

Upon our ownselves, without cause ?

That some occult design doth lie In bloody cynarctomachy