He was well ftay'd, and in his gait
Preferv'd a grave, majestic ftate.
At fpur or switch no more he skipp'd,
Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipp'd:
And yet fo fiery, he would bound,
As if he griev'd to touch the ground:
That Cæfar's horse, who, as fame goes,
Had corns upon his feet and toes,

Was not by half fo tender-hooft,
Nor trod upon the ground fo foft.

And as that beaft would kneel and ftoop
(Some write) to take his rider up;
So Hudibras his, 'tis well known,
Would often do to fet him down.

430

435

440

We fhall not need to fay what lack

Of leather was upon his back;

For that was hidden under pad,

And breech of knight gall'd full as bad,

His ftrutting ribs on both fides show'd

445

Like furrows he himself had plow'd:
For underneath the fkirt of pannel,
Twixt every two there was a channel.
His draggling tail hung in the dirt,
Which on his rider he would flirt,
Still as his tender fide he prick'd

With arm'd heel, or with unarm'd, kick'd:
For Hudibras wore but one fpur,
As wifely knowing could he ftir
To active trot one fide of's horfe,

The other would not hang an arse.

A Squire he had, whofe name was Ralph,

That in th' adventure went his half.

450

455

Though writers, for more ftately tone,
Do call him Ralpho, 'tis all one:
And when we can with metre fafe,

(For rhyme the rudder is of verses,

460:

We'll call him fo; if not, plain Ralph;

With which, like fhips, they fteer their courfes.) An equal ftock of wit and valour

465

He had laid in, by birth a taylor.

The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain'd
With fubtle fhreds a tract of land,

Did leave it with a caftle fair,

To his great ancestor, her heir:

470

From him defcended crofs legg'd knights,
Fam'd for their faith, and warlike fights.

Against the bloody canibal,

Whom they deftroy'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

475

The Knight's, but of another kind,

480:

And he another way came by't:

Some call it Gifts, and some New Light:

A lib'ral art, that cofts no pains

Of study, industry, or brains..

His wit was fent him for a token,

485

But in the carriage crack'd'and broken.
Like commendation ninepence crook'd

With---To and from my love---it look'd.
He ne'er confider'd it, as loath

To look a gift-horfe in the mouth;

490

And very wifely would lay forth
No more upon it than 'twas worth.
But as he got it freely, fo
He spent it frank and freely too,

For faints themselves will fometimes be,
Of gifts that coft them nothing, free.

By means of this, with hem and cough,
Prolongers to enlighten'd ftuff,

He could deep myfteries unriddle,
As easily as thread a needle.

495

500

For as of vagabonds we say

That they are ne'er befide their way;

Whate'er men speak by this new light,

Still they are fure to be i' th' right.

"Tis a dark lanthorn of the Spirit,

505

Which none fee by but those that bear it;

A light that falls down from on high,

For fpiritual trades to cozen by;

And filh to catch regeneration.

This light infpires and plays upon,
The nose of faint, like bagpipe drone,
And speaks through hollow empty foul,
As through a trunk, or whifp'ring hole,
Such language as no mortal ear
But fpiritual eaves-droppers can hear.
So Phœbus, or some friendly muse,
Into fmall poets fong infufe;

515

520

Which they at fecond hand rehearse
Through reed or bagpipe, verfe for verse.
Thus Ralph became infallible,

As three or four-legg'd oracle,

The ancient cup, or modern chair;

Spoke truth point-blank, though unaware,
For myftic learning, wondrous able

In magic talifman and cabal,

Whose primitive tradition reaches

As far as Adam's first green breeches;
Deep-fighted in intelligences,

Ideas, atoms, influences;

And much of terra incognita,

525

530

535

Th' intelligible world, could fay;

A déep occult philosopher,

As learn'd as the wild Irish are,

Or Sir Agrippa, for profound
And folid lying much renown'd:
He Anthropofophus and Floud,
And Jacob Behmen understood;

540

As well as they themselves do words;
Could tell what fubtleft parrots mean,
That think and fpeak contrary clean;

550

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 glafs, like water;

Of fov'reign power to make men wife;
For dropt in blear, thick-fighted eyes,
They'd make them fee in darkest night,
Like owls, though purblind in the light.
By help of these, as he profess'd,
He had firft matter feen undrefs'd:
He took her naked all alone,
Before one rag of form was on.
The Chaos too he had defcry'd,

And feen quite through, or elfe he ly'd:
Not that of pafteboard, which men fhew
For groats, at fair of Barthol'mew;
But its great-grandfire, first o' th' name,
Whence that and Reformation came;
Both coufin-germans, and right able
T'inveigle and draw in the rabble.
But Reformation was, some say,
O' th' younger houfe to puppet-play.
He could fortell whats'ever was
By confequence to come to pafs;
As death of great men, alterations,
Difeafes, battles, inundations.

All this without th' eclipse o' th' fun,

Or dreadful comet, he hath done,

By inward light, a way as good,

And eafy to be understood;

But with more lucky hit than those

That use to make the stars depose,

Like Knights o' th' poft, and falfely charge
Upon themselves what others forge;

As if they

were confenting to

All mischiefs in the world men do;

555

560

565

570

575

380

585