And yet have no art, true or false,
To help your own bad naturals ?

But still the more you strive to' appear,
Are found to be the wretcheder:

For fools are known by looking wise,

As men find woodcocks by their eyes.

Hence 'tis that 'cause ye 'ave gain'd o' th' college
A quarter share (at most) of knowledge,
And brought in none, but spent repute,
Y'assume a pow'r as absolute

To judge, and censure, and control,
As if you were the sole Sir Poll,
And saucily pretend to know
More than your dividend comes to :
You'll find the thing will not be done
With ignorance and face alone:

No, though ye 'ave purchas'd to your name

In history, so great a fame ;*

That now your talent's so well known,

For having all belief outgrown,

That every strange prodigious tale

Is measur❜d by your German scale-
By which the virtuosi try

The magnitude of every lie.

Cast up to what it does amount,

And place the bigg'st to your account;

That all those stories that are laid

Too truly to you, and those made,
Are now still charg'd upon your score,
And lesser authors nam'd no more.

* These two lines seem to indicate that Lilly, and not Sir Paul Neal, was here lashed under the name of Sidrophel; for Lilly's fame abroad was indisputable.

Alas! that faculty betrays

Those soonest it designs to raise ;
And all your vain renown will spoil,
As guns o'ercharg'd the more recoil;
Though he that has but impudence,
To all things has a fair pretence;
And put among his wants but shame,
To all the world may lay his claim :
Though you have tried that nothing's borne
With greater ease than public scorn,

That all affronts do still give place
To your impenetrable face;

That makes your way through all affairs,
As pigs through hedges creep with theirs :
Yet as 'tis counterfeit, and brass,

You must not think 'twill always pass;
For all impostors, when they're known,
Are past their labour, and undone :
And all the best that can befal
An artificial natural,

Is that which madmen find, as soon

As once they're broke loose from the moon, And, proof against her influence,

Relapse to e'er so little sense,

To turn stark fools, and subjects fit
For sport of boys and rabble-wit.

The Knight and Squire resolve at once,
The one the other to renounce;

They both approach the Lady's bower,
The Squire to inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a masquerade,

By Furies and Hobgoblins made,

From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself by night.

'Tis true no lover has that pow'r
To enforce a desperate amour,

As he that has two strings to' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit;

Has all his flames and raptures double,

And hangs or drowns, with half the trouble;

While those who sillily pursue

The simple downright way and true,

Make as unlucky applications,

And steer against the stream, their passions:

Some forge their mistresses of stars,

And when the ladies prove averse,

And more untoward to be won
Than by Caligula the moon,
Cry out upon the stars for doing
Ill offices, to cross their wooing,

When only by themselves they're hind❜red,
For trusting those they made her kindred,
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder;
For what mad lover ever died

To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,

In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong into' Elysium,

Through the' windows of a dazzling room ?
But for some cross ill-natur'd dame,
The amorous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use,
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place.

No sooner was the bloody fight
Between the Wizard and the Knight,
With all the' appurtenances, over,
But he relaps'd again to' a lover,
As he was always wont to do,
When he 'ad discomfited a foe,
And us'd the only antique philters
Deriv'd from old heroic tilters.
But now triumphant, and victorious,
He held the' achievement was too glorious

For such a conqueror to meddle

With petty constable or beadle,

Or fly for refuge to the hostess

Of the' inns of Court and Chancery justice; Who might perhaps, reduce his cause

To the' ordeal trial of the laws,

Where none escape, but such as branded With red-hot irons have past bare-handed; And if they cannot read one verse

I' th' Psalms, must sing it, and that's worse.
He, therefore, judging it below him

To tempt a shame the dev'l might owe him,
Resolv'd to leave the Squire for bail
And mainprize for him, to the gaol,
To answer, with his vessel, all
That might disastrously befal,

And thought it now the fittest juncture
To give the Lady a rencounter,

To' acquaint her with his expedition,
And conquest o'er the fierce magician;
Describe the manner of the fray,
And show the spoils he brought away;
His bloody scourging aggravate,
The number of the blows, and weight;
All which might probably succeed,
And gain belief he 'ad done the deed:
Which he resolv'd to' enforce, and spare
No pawning of his soul to swear;
But rather than produce his back,
To set his conscience on the rack;
And in pursuance of his urging
Of articles perform'd, and scourging,
And all things else, upon his part,
Demand delivery of her heart,

Her goods, and chattles, and good graces,
And person, up to his embraces.