(Though he gave his name to our Old Nick)

In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns,

Was now declining to the weft,

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To go to bed and take her reft;

When

Ver. 1325, 1326.] Our Poet ftands alone in this defcription of the morning's approach: none that I know of, befides himself, has painted it by the moon's declension he fcorned to follow the old beaten custom of describing it by the sun's rifing, which he had done once before, Part II. Cant. ii. Ver. 29; but he here finds out a new way, and altogether juft.

:

When Hudibras, whofe ftubborn blows
Deny'd his bones that foft repofe,
Lay ftill, expecting worse and more,
Stretch'd out at length upon the floor;
And, though he fhut his eyes as faft

As if he 'ad been to sleep his laft,

Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards -
Do make the Devil wear for vizards;

And, pricking up his ears, to hark
If he could hear, too, in the dark,

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Was first invaded with a groan,

And after, in a feeble tone,

These trembling words: Unhappy wretch,

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What haft thou gotten by this fetch,
Or all thy tricks, in this new trade,
Thy holy Brotherhood o' th' blade?
By fauntering still on fome adventure,
And growing to thy horse a Centaur ?
To ftuff thy skin with fwelling knobs

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Of cruel and hard-wooded drubs ?

For ftill thou 'aft had the worst on 't yet,

Believ'd it was fome drolling fprite

That ftaid upon the guard that night,

And one of those he 'ad seen, and felt
The drubs he had fo freely dealt;
When, after a short pause and groan,

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The doleful Spirit thus went on;

This 'tis t' engage with Dogs and Bears

(Thought he, this devil 's full of malice,

And, when thou 'adft bravely won the day,

Wast fain to steal thyself away.

(I fee, thought he, this fhameless elf

Would fain fteal me, too, from myself,
That impudently dares to own
What I have fuffer'd for and done)

And now, but venturing to betray,

Haft met with vengeance the fame way.
Thought he, how does the devil know
What 'twas that I design'd to do?
Y

VOL. I.

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His

His office of intelligence,

His oracles, are ceas'd long fince ;

And he knows nothing of the Saints,

But what fome treacherous fpy acquaints.

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This is fome pettifogging fiend,

Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,
That undertakes to understand,

And juggles at the fecond hand,

And now would pafs for Spirit Po,

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And all men's dark concerns foreknow.

I think I need not fear him for 't;
Thefe rallying devils do no hurt.
With that he rous'd his drooping heart,
And haftily cry'd out, What art ?
A wretch (quoth he) whom want of
Has brought to this unhappy place.

grace

I do believe thee, quoth the Knight; 'Thus far I 'm fure thou 'rt in the right: And know what 'tis that troubles thee,

Better than thou haft guefs'd of me.

Thou art fome paltry, black-guard fprite,
Condemn'd to drudgery in the night;

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Thou haft no work to do in th' house,

Nor halfpenny to drop in fhoes;

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Without the raifing of which fum

You dare not be fo troublesome

To pinch the flatterns black and blue,
For leaving you their work to do.
This is your business, good Pug-Robin,
your diverfion dull dry-bobbing,

Ard

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Ten

T'entice fanatics in the dirt,

And wash them clean in ditches for 't;

Of which conceit you are so proud,

At every jeft you laugh aloud,

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As now you would have done by me,
But that I barr'd your raillery.

Sir (quoth the Voice) ye 're no fuch fophi
As you would have the world judge of ye.
If you defign to weigh our talents

I' th' ftandard of your own falfe balance,
Or think it poffible to know

Us ghofts, as well as we do you;

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We, who have been the everlasting

Companions of your drubs and bafting,

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And never left you in conteft

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 faid as true
By th' idleft pug of all your crew:
For none could have betray'd us worfe
Than thofe allies of ours and yours.
But I have fent him for a token
To your low-country Hogen-Mogen,

To whofe infernal fhores I hope

He'll fwing like skippers in a rope :

And, if ye 'ave been more juft to me
(As I am apt to think) than he,
I am afraid it is as true

What th' ill-affected say of you

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