The more shame for her goody-fhip,
To give so near a Friend the flip.
For Colon chufing out a ftone,
Level'd fo right it thumpt upon
His Manly Paunch with such a Force,
As almost beat him off his Horfe.
He loft his Whyniard, and the Reyn;
But laying faft hold on the Mane,
Preferv'd his Seat: And as a Goofe
In death contracts his Talons close
So did the Knight, and with one Claw
The Tricker of his Pistol draw.
The Gun went off: And as it was
Still fatal to ftout Hudibras,
In all his Feats of Arms, when leaft
He dreamt of it, to profper beft ;
So now he far'd: The shot let fly
At rando 'mong the Enemy,
Pierc'd Talgol's Gabberdine, and grazing
Upon his Shoulder, in the passing
Lodg'd in Magnano's brafs Habergeon,
Who ftraight A Surgeon: cry'd, a Surgeon :
He tumbled down and as he fell,
Did Murther, murther, murther yell.
This startled their whole Body fo,
That if the Knight had not let go
His Arms, but been in Warlike Plight,
H' had won (the fecond time) the fight.
As if the Squire had but faln on,
He had inevitably done:
But he diverted with the care
Of Hudibras his Hurt, forbare
To prefs th' Advantage of his Fortune,
While danger did the rest dishearten.
For he with Cerdon b'ing engag'd
In close encounter, they both wag'd
The fight fo well 'twas hard to fay
Which fide was like to get the day.
And now the bufie Work of Death
Had tir'd them fo, th' agreed to breath,
Preparing to renew the Fight;
When the disaster of the Knight
And th' other Party did divert,
Their fell Intent and forc'd them part.
Ralpho preft up to Hudibras.
And Cerdon, where Magnano was;
Each striving to confirm his Party
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With ftout Encouragements and Hearty.
Quoth Ralpho, Courage, valiant Sir,
And let Revenge and Honour stir
Your Spirits up, once more fall on,
The shatter'd Foe begins to run:
For if but half fo well you knew
To use your Victory as fubdue,
They durft not after fuch a Blow
you have giv❜n them, face us now;
But from fo formidable a Soldier
Had fled like Crows when they fmellPowder.
Thrice have they feen your Sword aloft.
Wav'd o'er their Heads, and fled as oft.
But if you let them recollect
Their Spirits, now dismay'd and check'd,
You'll have a harder game to play,
Than yet y' have had to get the Day.
Thus fpoke the flott Squire;but was heard By Hudibras with small regard.
His thoughts were fuller of the bang
He lately took than Ralph's harangue;
To which he answer'd, Cruel fate
Tells me thy Counsel comes to late.
The knotted Bloud within my hose,
That from my wounded Body flows,
With mortal Crifis doth portend
My days to appropinque an end.
I am for action now unfit,
Either of Fortitude or Wit.
Fortune my foe begins to frown,
Refoly'd to pull my ftomach down.
I am not apt upon a Wound,
Or trivial Bafting to despond :
Yet I'd be loth my Days to curtal,
For if I thought my Wounds not mortal;
Or that we'd time enough as yet
To make an honourable Retreat,
Twere the best course: But if they find
We fly and leave our Arms behind,
For them to seize on, the Dishonour
And Danger too is fuch, I'll fooner
Stand to it boldly and take quarter,
To let them fee I am no Starter.
In all the trade of War no Feat,
Is nobler than a brave Retreat.
For those that run away, and fly,
Take Place at least of th' Enemy.
This faid, the Squire with active speed
Difmounted from his bonny steed
To feize the Arms which by mischance
Fell from the bold Knight in a Trance.
These being found out, and restor'd
To Hudibras, their natural Lord,
As a Man may fay, with might and main
He hafted to get up again.
Thrice he affay'd to mount aloft;
But by his weighty Bum as oft
He was pull'd back till having found
Th' advantage of the rifing Ground,
Thither he led his Warlike Steed,
And, having plac'd him right, with speed
Prepar'd again to scale the Beast.
When Orfin who had newly dreft
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