And when a Circle 'bout the Wrist
Is made by Beadle Exorcist,

The Body feels the Spur and Switch,
As if 'twere ridden Post by 'witch
At twenty miles an hour pace,
And yet ne'er stirs out of the place.
On top of this there is a Spire,
On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire,
The Fiddle, and its Spoils, the Case,
In manner of a Trophee place.
That done, they ope the Trap-dore-gate,
And let Crowdero down thereat.
Crowdero making doleful face,

Like Hermit poor in pensive place,
To Dungeon they the wretch commit,
And the survivor of his feet:

But th' other that had broke the peace,
And head of Knighthood, they release,
Though a Deli[n]quent false and forged,
Yet b'ing a stranger, he's enlarged;
While his Comrade that did no hurt,
Is clapt up fast in prison for't,
So Justice, while she winks at Crimes,
Stumbles on Innocence sometimes.

The ARGUMENT of the Third

CANTO.

The scatter'd Rout return and rally,
Surround [t]he Place; the Knight does sally,
And is made Pris'ner: then they seize
Th' Inchanted Fort by storm, release
Crowdero, and put the Squire in's place.
I should have first said, Hudibras.

CANTO III.

AY

me! what perils do environ

The Man that meddles with cold Iron !

What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps

Do dog him still with after-claps !
For though Dame Fortune seem to smile
And leer upon him for a while;
She'll after shew him, in the nick
Of all his Glories, a Dog-trick,
This any man may sing or say
I' th' Ditty call'd, What if a Day:
For Hudibras, who thought h' had won
The Field as certain as a Gun,

And having routed the whole Troop,
With Victory was Cock-a-hoop;

Thinks h' had done enough to purchase
Thanksgiving Day among the Churches,
Wherein his Mettle and brave Worth
Might be explain'd by Holder-forth,
And Register'd by Fame eternal,
In Deathless Pages of Diurnal;
Found in few minutes, to his Cost,
He did but Count without his Host;
And that a Turn-stile is more certain,
Than in events of War Dame Fortune.

For now the late faint-hearted Rout
O'erthrown and scatter'd round about,
Chac'd by the horror of their fear
From bloody fray of Knight and Bear,
(All but the Dogs, who in pursuit ·
Of the Knight's Victory stood to't,
And most ignobly sought to get
The honor of his blood and sweat)
Seeing the Coast was free and clear
O' th' Conquer'd and the Conquerer,
Took heart again, and fac'd about,
As if they meant to stand it out:
For now the half-defeated Bear
Attack'd by th' Enemy i' th' rear,
Finding their number grew too great
For him to make a safe retreat,
Like a bold Chieftain fac'd about;
But wisely doubting to hold out,
Gave way to fortune, and with haste
Fac'd the proud foe, and fled, and fac'd,
Retiring still, until he found

H' had got th' advantage of the ground;
And then as valiantly made head,
To check the foe, and forthwith fled;
Leaving no Art untry'd, nor Trick
Of Warrior stout and Politick,
Until in spight of hot pursuit,
He gain'd a Pass, to hold dispute
On better terms, and stop the course

Of the proud foe. With all his force
He bravely charg'd, and for a while
Forc'd their whole Body to recoil:
But still their numbers so increast
He found himself at length opprest,
And all evasions so uncertain,
To save himself for better fortune,
That he resolv'd, rather than yield,
To die with honour in the field,
And sell his Hide and Carcass at
A price as high and desperate
As e'er he could. This Resolution
He forthwith put in execution,
And bravely threw himself among
The Enemy i'th' greatest throng.
But what could single Valor do
Against so numerous a foe?

Yet much [he] did, indeed too much

To be believ'd. where th' odds was such :

But one against a multitude,

Is more than mortal can make good.
For while one party he oppos'd,
His Rear was suddenly enclos'd,
And no room left him for retreat,
Or fight against a foe so great.
For now the Mastives charging home
To blows and handy-gripes were come;
While manfully himself he bore,
And setting his right foot before,
He rais'd himself to shew how tall
His person was above them all.

This equal shame and envy stirr'd
I' th' Enemy, that one should beard
So
Warriors and so stout,
many
As he had done, and stand it out,
Disdaining to lay down his Arms,
And yield on honorable terms.
Enraged thus some in the rear
Attack'd him, and some ev'ry where,
Till down he fell, yet falling fought,

And being down still laid about;
As Widdrington in doleful dumps
Is said to fight upon his stumps.

But all, alas! had been in vain,
And he inevitably slain,

If Trulla and Cerdon in the nick
To rescue him had not been quick.
For Trulla, who was light of foot,
As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot
(But not so light as to be born
Upon the Ears of standing Corn,
Or [trip] it o'er the water quicker
Than Witches when their staves they liquor,
As some report) was got among
The foremost of the Martial throng;
Where pittying the vanquish'd Bear,
She call'd to Gerdon who stood near
Viewing the bloudy fight, to whom
Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum drum,
And see stout Bruin all alone

By numbers basely overthrown?
Such feats already h' has atchiev'd,
In story not to be believ'd:

And 'twould to us be shame enough,
Not to a[t]tempt to fetch him off.

I would (quoth he) venture a Limb
To second thee, and rescue him:
But then we must about it straight,
Or else our aid will come too late.
Quarter he scorns, he is so stout,
And therefore cannot long hold out.

This said, they wav'd their weapons round
About their heads, to clear the ground;

And joining forces laid about

So fiercely, that th' amazed rout

Turn'd tail again, and straight begun,
As if the Devil drove, to run.

Mean while th' aproach'd the place where Bruin