Because he's tall, and has large Bones;
As Men kill Beavers for their Stones.
But as for our Part, we fhall tell
The naked Truth of what befell;
And as an equal Friend to both
The Knight and Bear, but more to Troth.
With neither Faction fhall take part,
But give to each his due Defert:
And never coin a formal Lie on't,
To make the Knight o'ercome the Giant.
This b'ing profeft, we've hope's enough,
And now go on where we left off.
They rode, but Authors having not
Determin'd whether Pace or Trot,
That is to fay, whether Tollutation,
As they do term't, or Succuffation)
We leave it and go on, as now
Suppose they did, no matter how,
Yet fome from fubtle Hints have got
Myfterious Light, it was a Trot.
But let that pass: They now begun
To fpur their living Engines on.
For as whipp'd Tops and bandy'd Balls,
The learned hold are Animals:
So Horfes they affirm to be
Mere Engines made by Geometry,
And were invented first from Engins,
As Indian Britains were from Penguins.
So let them be, as I was faying,
They their live Engines ply'd, not ftaying
Untill they reach'd the fatal Champain,
Which th' Enemy did then incamp on.
The dire Pharfalian Plain, where Battle
Was to be wag'd 'twixt puissant Cattle,
And fierce Auxiliary Men,
That came to aid their Brethren:
Who now began to take the Field
As Knight from ridge of Steed beheld.
For as our modern Wits behold,
Mounted a Pick-back on the Old,
Much further off, much further he
Rais'd on his aged Beast could fee:
Yet not fufficient to defcry
All Poftures of the Enemy;
Wherefore he bids the Squire ride further
T'obferve their Numbers and their Order.
That when their Motions he had known,
He might know how to fit his own.
Mean while he ftop'd his willing Steed,
To fit himself for Martial Deed:
Both kinds of Metal he prepar'd,
Either to give Blows, or to ward;
Courage and Steel, both of great Force,
Prepar'd for better or for worse.
His Death-charg'd Pistols he did fit well,
Drawn out from Life-preferving Vittel.
Thefe being prim'd, with Force he labour'd
To free's Sword from retentive Scabbord:
And after many a painful Pluck,
From rufly Durance he bail'd Tuck.
Then fhook himself, to fee that Prowess
In Scabbard of his Arms fat loose
And rais'd upon his defperate Foot,
On Stirrup-fide he gaz'd about.
Portending Bloud, like Blazing Star,
The Beacon of approaching War.
Ralpho rode on with no lefs Speed
Than Hugo in the Foreft did,
But far more in returning made,
For now the Foe he had furvey'd,
Rang'd, as to him they did aqpear,
With Van, main Battel, Wings and Rear.
I' th' Head of all this Warlike Rabble
Crowdero march'd, expert and able:
Inftead of Trumpet and of Drum,
That makes the Warriors Stomach come,
Whofe Noife whets Valour sharp like Beer
By Thunder turn'd to Vinegar.
(For if a Trumpet found or Drum beat,
Who has not a Month's Mind to combat?
A fqueaking Engine he apply'd
Unto his Neck, on North-East fide,
Juft where the Hangman does difpofe
To fpecial Friends the Knot of Noofe :
For 'tis Great Grace when Statefmen strait
Dispatch a Friend, let others wait.
His warped Ear hung o'er the Strings,
Which was but Somfe to Chitterlings:
For Guts, fome write, e'er they are fodden,
Are fit for Mufick, or for Pudden:
From whence Men borrow ev'ry kind
Of Minftrelfy, by String or Wind.
His grizly Beard was long and thick,
With which he ftrung his Fiddle-stick:
For he to Horfe-Tail fcorn'd to owe,
For what on his own Chin did grow.
Chiron, the four-legg'd Bard, had both
A Beard and Tail of his own growth;
And yet by Authors 'tis averrd,
He made ufe only of his Beard.
In Staffordshire where Virtuous Worth
Does raise the Minstrelfy, not Birth;
Where Bulls do chufe the boldest King,
And Ruler, o'er the Men of String;
(As once in Perfia, 'tis faid,
Kings were Proclaim'd by a Horfe that
He bravely vent'ring at a Crown,
By Chance of War was beaten down,
And wounded fore: his Leg then broke,
Had got a Deputy of Oake:
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