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 dispos'd, could prove it
Below the moon, or else above it:
What Adam dreamt of, when his bride
Came from her closet in his side:
Whether 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,

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180

185

He could unriddle in a moment,

In proper terms, such as men smatter,

When they throw out, and miss the matter.

195

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,

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173. There is nothing more ridiculous than the various opinions of authors about the seat of Paradise. Sir Walter Raleigh has taken a great deal of pains to collect them, in the beginning of his History of the World, where those who are unsatisfied may be fully informed.

180. Goropius Becanus endeavours to prove, that High Dutch was the language that Adam and Eve spoke in Paradise.

181. Adain and Eve being made,and not conceived and formed in the womb, had no navels, as some learned men have supposed, because they had no need of them.

182. Music is said to be invented by Pythagoras, 'who first found out the proportion of notes from the sounds of hammers upon an anvil.

Which always must be carry'd 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 splenetick,
Than dog distract, or monkey sick;
That with more care keep holy-day
The wrong, than others the right way:
Compound for sins they are inclin'd to,
By damning those they have no mind to:
Still so perverse and opposite,

As if they worshipp'd 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

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210

215

220

In them, in other men all sin.

Rather than fail, thoy will decry

225

That which they love most tenderly;

Quarrel with minc'd pies, and disparage

Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge.

Fat pig and goose itself oppose,

And blaspheme custard thro' the nose.

230

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 linkt,

As if hypocrisy and nonsense

235

Had got th' advowson 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:

240

232. Mahomet had a tame dove that used to pick seeds out of his ear, that it might be thought to whisper and inspire him. His ass was so intimate with him, that the Mahonetaus believed it carried him to heaven, and stays there with him to bring him back again.

His tawny beard was th' equal grace
Both of his wisdom and his face;
In cut and dye so like a tile,
A sudden view it would beguile:
The upper part thereof was whey;
The nether, orange mix'd with gray.
This hairy meteor did denounce
The fall of sceptres and of crowns;
With grisly type did represent
Declining age of government;

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250

And tell with hieroglyphick 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,

255

To wait upon the publick downfall:
It was monastick, and did grow
In holy orders by strict vow;
Of rule as sullen and severe
As that of rigid Cordelier.

260

"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,

265

Still ready to be pull'd and torn;
With red-hot irons to be tortur'd;

Revil'd, and spit upon, and martyr'd.
Maugre all which, 'twas to stand fast,
As long as monarchy should last;

270

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

275

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.

280

257. He made a vow never to cut his beard until the Parliament had subdued the king of which order of fanatic votaries there were many in those times.

So learn'd 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 dropp'd the sympathetic snout.

His back, or rather burthen, shew'd
As if it stoop'd with its own load:
For as Æneas 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-

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290

Hand of his head, for want of crupper.
To poise this equally, he bore

295

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;

300

With other vittle, which anon

We farther shall dilate upon,

281. Taliacotius was an Italian surgeon, that found

out a way to repair lost and decayed noses.

This Taliacotius was chief surgeon to the great duke of Tuscany, and wrote a treatise, De Curtis Membris, which he dedicates to his great master; wherein he not only declares the models of his wonderful operations in restoring of lost members, but gives you cuts of the very instruments and ligatures he made use of therein; from hence our author (cum poetica licentia) has taken his simile.

289. Eneas was the son of Anchises and Venus; a Trojan, who after long travels, came to Italy, and after the death of his father-in-law, Latinus, was made king of Latium, and reigned three years. His story is too long to insert here, and therefore I refer you to Virgil's Eneids. Troy being laid in ashes, he took his aged father Anchises upon his back, and rescued him from his enemies. But being too solicitous for his son and household gods, he lost his wife Creusa; which Mr. Dryden, in his excellent translation, thus expresseth:

Haste, my dear father ('tis no time to wait,)
And load my shoulders with a willing freight.
Whate'er befals, your life shall be my care;
One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share.
My hand shall lead our little son; and you,
My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue.

When of his hose we come to treat,
The cupboard where he kept his meat.
His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And though not sword, yet cudgel proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,

Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.
His breeches were of rugged woollen,
And had been at the siege of Bullen;
To old king Harry so well known,

305.

316

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

315

For warriors that delight in blood.
For, as we said, he always chose
To carry vittle in his hose,

That often tempted rats and mice
The ammunition to surprise:

320

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,

325

Ne'er left the fortify'd redoubt.

And tho' knights-errant, as some think,

Of old did neither eat nor drink,

Because, when thorough deserts vast,

And regions desolate, they past,

330

Where belly-timber above ground,
Or under, was not to be found,

Round table like a farthingal,

On which, with shirt pull'd out behind,
And eke before, his good knights din'd.

340

337. Who this Arthur was, and whether any ever reigned in Britain, has been doubted heretofore, and is by some to this very day. However, the history of him, which makes him one of the nine worthies of the world, is a subject sufficient for the poet to be pleasant upon.