But (like a reprobate) what course
Soever us'd, grow worse and worfe?
Can no transfufion of the blood,

That makes fools cattle, do you good?
Nor putting pigs t' a bitch to nurse,
To turn them into mongrel-curs,
Put you into a way, at least,
To make yourself a better beast?
Can all your critical intrigues,
Of trying found from rotten eggs;
Your feveral new-found remedies,
Of curing wounds and scabs in trees;
Your arts of fluxing them for claps,

40

45

But ftill it must be lewdly bent

55

To tempt your own due punishment;
And, like your whimfy'd chariots, draw
The boys to course you without law;
As if the art you have fo long
Profefs'd, of making old dogs young,
In you had virtue to renew

Not only youth, but childhood too,
Can you, that understand all books,
By judging only with your looks,
Refolve all problems with your face,
As others do with B's and A's;

60

65

Unriddle

X

Unriddle all that mankind knows
With folid bending of your brows
All arts and sciences advance,
With fcrewing of your countenance,
And with a penetrating eye

Into th' abftrusest learning pry;

Know more of any trade b' a hint,
Than those that have been bred up in 't,
And yet have no art, true or false,
To help your own bad naturals?
But ftill, the more you ftrive t' appear,
Are found to be the wretcheder:
For fools are known by looking wife,
As men find woodcocks by their eyes,

Hence 'tis that 'cause ye 'ave gain'd o' th' college
A quarter share (at most) of knowledge,
And brought in none, but spent repute,
Y' affume a power as absolute

To judge, and cenfure, and control,
As if you were the fole Sir Poll,

$5

No, though ye 've purchas'd to your name,

In hiftory, fo great a fame;

That

Ver., 86.] Sir Politick Wood-be, in "Volpone.” Ver. 91, 92.] Thefe two lines,. I think, plainly discover that Lilly, and not Sir Paul Neal, was here lashed under the name Sidropbel for Lilly's fame abroad was indifputable. Mr. Strick

land,

That now your talent's fo well known,
For having all belief outgrown,
That every ftrange prodigious tale

95

Is meafur'd by your German scale→→

By, which the virtuosi try

The magnitude of every lye,

Caft up to what it does amount,

And place the bigg'ft to your account
That all thofe ftories that are laid

1:00

Too truly to you, and those made,
Are now ftill charg'd upon your score,.
And leffer authors nam'd no more.
Alas! that faculty betrays.
Those fooneft it defigns to raise;
And all your vain renown will spoil,
As guns o'ercharg'd the more recoil;
Though he that has but impudence,
To all things has a fair pretence;

land, who was many years Agent for the Parliament in Holland, thus publishes it: "I came purpofely into the Committee this "day, to see the man who is fo famous in thofe parts where I "have fo long continued: I affure you, his name is famous all 66 over Europe. I came to do him juftice." Lilly is alfo careful to tell us, that the King of Sweden fent him a gold chain and medal worth about 5ol. for making honourable mention of his Majefty in one of his almanacks; which, he fays, was tranflated into the language spoke at Hamburgh, and printed, and cried about the streets as it was in London. Thus he trumpets to the world the fame he acquired by his infamous practices, if we may Credit his own history.

Ver. 105. Betrays.] Destroys, in all the editions I have seen.

And,

And, put among his wants but shame,

To all the world may lay his claim :
Though you have try'd that nothing's borne
With greater ease than public fcorn,

That all affronts do ftill give place

To your impenetrable face;

That makes your way through all affairs,
As pigs through hedges creep with theirs :
Yet, as 'tis counterfeit and brass,
You must not think 'twill always pafs;
For all impoftors, when they 're known,
Are paft their labour, and undone :
And all the best that can befal

An artificial natural,

Is that which madmen find, as foon

As once they 're broke loose from the moon,
And, proof against her influence,
Relapse to e'er fo little sense,
To turn ftark fools, and subjects fit
For fport of boys and rabble-wit

HUDIBRA J

HUDI BRA S.

PART III. CANTO I.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Knight and Squire refolve at once,
The one the other to renounce;

They both approach the Lady's bower,
The Squire t' inform, the Knight to wooe her.
She treats them with a masquerade,

By Furies and Hobgoblins made;

From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And fteals him from himself by night.

'TIS true no lover has that power

T'enforce a desperate amour,

As he that has two ftrings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;

We are now come to the Third Part of Hudibras, which is Confiderably longer than either the First or the Second; and yet can the fevereft critic fay that Mr. Butler grows infipid in his invention, or faulters in his judgment? No; he ftill continues to shine in both thefe excellencies; and, to manifeft the extenfivenefs of his abilities, he leaves no art untried to spin out these adventures to a length proportionable to his wit and fatire. I dare fay the reader is not weary of him; nor will he be so at the conclufion of the Poem: and the reafon is evident, because this laft part is as fruitful of wit and humour as the former; and a poetic fire is equally diffufed through the whole Poem, that burns every where clearly, and every where irresistibly.

For