Huffer! quoth Hudibras: this sword 1035 Shall down thy false throat cram that word. Ralpho, make haste, and call an officer, To apprehend this Stygian sophister; Meanwhile I'll hold 'em at a bay, Lest he and Whachum run away. But Sidrophel, who, from th' aspect
Of Hudibras, did now erect
A figure worse portending far
Than that of a malignant star,
Believ'd it now the fittest moment
To shun the danger that might come on't,
While Hudibras was all alone,
And he and Whachum, two to one.
This being resolv'd, he spy'd, by chance,
Behind the door, an iron lance,
That many a sturdy limb had gor'd,
And legs, and loins, and shoulders bor'd:
He snatch'd it up, and made a pass,
To make his way through Hudibras.
Whachum had got a fire-fork,
With which he vow'd to do his work.
But Hudibras gave him a twitch
As quick as lightning in the breech,
Just in the place where honour's lodg'd,
As wise philosophers have judg'd:
Because a kick in that place more
Hurts honour than deep wounds before.
Quoth Hudibras, The stars determine
You are my prisoners, base vermin!
Could they not tell you so as well
As what I came to know foretel?
By this what cheats you are we find,
That in your own concerns are blind.
Your lives are now at my dispose,
To be redeem'd by fine or blows:
But who his honour would defile,
To take or sell two lives so vile?
I'll give you quarter; but your pillage,
The conqu'ring warrior's crop and tillage,
Which with his sword he reaps and ploughs,
That's mine, the law of arms allows.
This said in haste, in haste he fell
To rummaging of Sidrophel.
And found a watch with rings and lockets,
First, he expounded both his pockets,
Which had been left with him t' erect
A figure for, and so detect;
A copper-plate, with almanacks
Engrav'd upon 't; with other knacks
Of Booker's, Lilly's, Sarah Jimmers',
And blank-schemes t' discover nimmers;
A moon-dial, with Napier's bones,
And several constellation stones,
Engrav'd in planetary hours,
That over mortals had strange powers
To make 'em thrive in law or trade,
And stab or poison to evade;
In wit or wisdom to improve,
And be victorious in love.
Whachum had neither cross nor pile;
His plunder was not worth the while;
All which the conqu'ror did discompt, pay for curing of his rump.
But Sidrophcl, as full of tricks
As Rota-men of politics,
Straight cast about to over-reach
Th' unwary conqu'ror with a fetch,
And make him glad (at least) to quit
His victory, and fly the pit,
Before the secular prince of darkness
Arriv'd to seize upon his carcase:
1113. As the devil is the spiritual prince of darkness, so is the constable the secular, who governs in the night with as great authority as his colleague, but far more imperiously.
And as a fox with hot pursuit
Chas'd thro' a warren, casts about
To save his credit, and among
Dead vermin on a gallows hung,
And while the dogs ran underneath,
Escap'd (by counterfeiting death)
Not out of cunning, but a train
Of atoms justling in his brain,
As learn'd philosophers give out,
So Sidrophello cast about,
And fell to 's wonted trade again,
To feign himself in earnest slain:
First stretch'd out one leg, then another,
And seeming in his breath to smother
A broken sigh, quoth he, Where am I,
Alive or dead? or which way came I,
Through so immense a space so soon?
But now I thought myself i' th' moon;
And that a monster with huge whiskers,
More formidable than a Switzer's,
My body through and through had drill'd, 1135
And Whachum by my side had kill'd;
Had cross-examin'd both our hose,
And plunder'd all we had to lose.
Look, there he is: I see him now,
And feel the place I am run through:
And there lies Whachum by my side
Stone dead, and in his own blood dy'd.
Oh! oh! With that he fetch'd a groan,
And fell again into a swoon;
Shut both his eyes, and stopp'd his breath, 1145
And to the life out-acted death;
That Hudibras, to all appearing,
Believ'd him to be dead as herring.
He held it now no longer safe
To tarry the return of Ralph,
But rather leave him in the lurch:
Thought he, he has abus'd our church,
Refus'd to give himself one firk
To carry on the public work;
Despis'd our synod-men like dirt,
And made their discipline his sport;
Divulg'd the secrets of their classes,
And their conventions prov'd high places;
Disparag'd their tithe-pigs as Pagan,
And set at nought their cheese and bacon; 1160
Rail'd at their Covenant, and jeer'd
Their rev'rend parsons, to my beard:
For all which scandals, to be quit
At once, this juncture falls out fit.
I'll make him henceforth to beware,
And tempt my fury if he dare,
He must at least hold up his hand,
By twelve freeholders to be scann'd;
Who, by their skill in palmistry,
Will quickly read his destiny;
And make him glad to read his lesson,
Or take a turn for 't at the session;
Unless his light and gifts prove truer
Than ever yet they did, I'm sure;
For if he 'scape with whipping now,
'Tis more than he can hope to do;
And that will disengage my conscience
Of th' obligation in his own sense.
I'll make him now by force abide
What he by gentle means deny'd,
To give my honour satisfaction,
And right the brethren in the action.
This being resolv'd, with equal speed
And conduct he approach'd his steed,
And with activity unwont
Assay'd the lofty beast to mount;
Which once achiev'd, he spurr'd his palfrey,
To get from th' enemy and Ralph free:
Left dangers, fears, and foes behind,
And beat, at least three lengths, the wind. 1190
WELL! Sidrophel, though 'tis in vain
To tamper with your crazy brain,
Without trepanning of your skull
As often as the moon's at full,
"Tis not amiss, ere y' are giv'n o'er,
To try one desp'rate med cine more:
For where your case can be no worse,
The desperat'st is the wisest course.
Is't possible that you, whose ears
Are of the tribe of Issachar's,
And might with equal reason) either
For merit, or extent of leather,
With William Pryn's, before they were
Retrench'd and crucify'd, compare,
Should yet be deaf against a noise
So roaring as the public voice?
That speaks your virtues free, and loud,
And openly, in ev'ry crowd,
As loud as one that sings his part
Ta wheel-barrow or turnip cart,
Or your new nick-nam'd old invention
To cry green hastings with an engine
(As if the vehemence had stunn'd,
And torn your drum-heads with the sound ;) And 'cause your folly's now no news,
But overgrown, and out of use,
But that 'tis vanish'd out of nature;
Persuade yourself there's no such matter,
When folly, as it grows in years,
The more extravagant appears;
For who but you could be possest
With so much ignorance, and beast,
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