Hudibras/Part 3/Canto 3

by Samuel Butler (1612-1680)

PART III. CANTO III.

 

 

ARGUMENT.

The Knight and Squire's prodigious flightTo quit th' enchanted bow'r by night:He plods to turn his amorous suit,T' a plea in law, and prosecute:Repairs to counsel, to advise'Bout managing the enterprise;But first resolves to try by letter,And one^[1] more fair address, to get her.

PART III. CANTO III.

 

HO would believe what strange bugbears
Mankind creates itself, of fears,
That spring, like fern, that insect weed,
Equivocally, without seed,^[2]
And have no possible foundation, 5
But merely in th' imagination?
And yet can do more dreadful feats
Than hags, with all their imps and teats;^[3]
Make more bewitch and haunt themselves,
Than all their nurseries of elves. 10
For fear does things so like a witch,
'Tis hard t' unriddle which is which;
Sets no communities of senses,
To chop and change intelligences;
As Rosicrucian virtuosos 15
Can see with ears, and hear with noses;^[4]

And when they neither see nor hear,Have more than both supplied by fear,That makes them in the dark see visions,And hag themselves with apparitions; 20And when their eyes discover least,Discern the subtlest object best;Do things not contrary aloneTo th' course of nature, but its own;The courage of the bravest daunt, 25And turn poltroons as valiant:For men as resolute appearWith too much, as too little fear;And, when they're out of hopes of flying,Will run away from death, by dying; 30Or turn again to stand it out,And those they fled, like lions, rout. This Hudibras had prov'd too true,Who, by the furies, left perdue,And haunted with detachments, sent 35From Marshal Legion's regiment,^[5]Was by a fiend, as counterfeit, Reliev'd and rescu'd with a cheat, When nothing but himself, and fear, Was both the imps and conjurer;^[6] 40As by the rules o' th' virtuosi, It follows in due form of poesie. Disguis'd in all the masks of night, We left our champion on his flight, At blindman's buff to grope his way, 45In equal fear of night and day;Who took his dark and desp'rate course,He knew no better than his horse;And by an unknown devil led,^[7]He knew as little whither, fled. 50He never was in greater need,Nor less capacity of speed;Disabled, both in man and beast,To fly and run away, his best;To keep the enemy, and fear, 55From equal falling on his rear.And though, with kicks and bangs he ply'd,The further and the nearer side;As seamen ride with all their force,And tug as if they row'd the horse, 60And when the hackney sails most swift,Believe they lag, or run a-drift;So, tho' he posted e'er so fast,His fear was greater than his haste:For fear, though fleeter than the wind, 65Believes 'tis always left behind.But when the morn began t' appear,^[8]And shift t' another scene his fear,He found his new officious shade,That came so timely to his aid, 70And forc'd him from the foe t' escape,Had turn'd itself to Ralpho's shape,So like in person, garb, and pitch,'Twas hard t' interpret which was which.For Ralpho had no sooner told 75The lady all he had t' unfold,But she convey'd^[9] him out of sight, To entertain th' approaching Knight; And while he gave himself diversion,T' accommodate his beast and person, 80And put his beard into a postureAt best advantage to accost her,She order'd th' anti-masquerade,For his reception, aforesaid:But, when the ceremony was done, 85The lights put out, the furies gone,And Hudibras, among the rest,Convey'd away, as Ralpho guess'd,^[10]The wretched caitiff, all alone,As he believ'd, began to moan, 90And tell his story to himself;The Knight mistook him for an elf;And did so still, till he beganTo scruple at Ralph's outward man,And thought, because they oft agreed 95T' appear in one another's stead,And act the saint's and devil's part,With undistinguishable art,They might have done so now, perhaps,And put on one another's shapes; 100And therefore, to resolve the doubt,He star'd upon him, and cry'd out,What art? my Squire, or that bold spriteThat took his place and shape to-night?^[11]Some busy independent Pug, 105Retainer to his synagogue?Alas! quoth he, I'm none of those Your bosom friends, as you suppose,But Ralph himself, your trusty Squire, Who 's dragg'd your donship out o' the mire,^[12] 110 And from th' enchantments of a widow,Who 'd turn'd you int' a beast, have freed you;And, tho' a prisoner of war,Have brought you safe, where now you are;Which you wou'd gratefully repay, 115Your constant Presbyterian way.That's stranger, quoth the Knight, and stranger;Who gave thee notice of my danger?Quoth he, Th' infernal conjurerPursu'd, and took me prisoner; 120And, knowing you were hereabout,Brought me along to find you out,Where I, in hugger-mugger hid,^[13]Have noted all they said or did:And, tho' they lay to him the pageant, 125I did not see him nor his agent;Who play'd their sorceries out of sight,T' avoid a fiercer second fight.But didst thou see no devils then?Not one, quoth he, but carnal men, 130A little worse than fiends in hell,And that she-devil Jezebel,That laugh'd and tee-he'd with derisionTo see them take your deposition.What then, quoth Hudibras, was he 135That play'd the dev'l to examine me?A rallying weaver in the town,That did it in a parson's gown,Whom all the parish take for gifted,But, for my part, I ne'er believ'd it: 140In which you told them all your feats,Your conscientious frauds and cheats;Deny'd your whipping, and confess'dThe naked truth of all the rest,More plainly than the rev'rend writer 145That to our churches veil'd his mitre.^[14] All which they took in black and white,And cudgell'd me to underwrite.What made thee, when they all were gone, And none but thou and I alone, 150To act the devil, and forbear To rid me of my hellish fear?Quoth he, I knew your constant rate, And frame of sp'rit too obstinate,To be by me prevail'd upon, 155With any motives of my own: And therefore strove to counterfeit The devil awhile, to nick your wit; The devil, that is your constant crony,That only can prevail upon ye; 160Else we might still have been disputing, And they with weighty drubs confuting.The Knight, who now began to find They 'd left the enemy behind,And saw no further harm remain, 165But feeble weariness and pain, Perceiv'd, by losing of their way,They'd gain'd th' advantage of the day, And, by declining of the road,They had, by chance, their rear made good; 170He ventur'd to dismiss his fear, That parting's wont to rant and tear, And give the desp'ratest attack To danger still behind its back: For having paus'd to recollect, 175And on his past success reflect,T' examine and consider why,And whence, and how, he came to fly,And when no devil had appear'd,What else it could be said be fear'd, 180It put him in so fierce a rage,He once resolv'd to re-engage;Toss'd, like a foot-ball, back againWith shame, and vengeance, and disdain.Quoth he, It was thy cowardice, 185That made me from this leaguer rise, And when I'd half reduc'd the place,To quit it infamously base; Was better cover'd by thy newArriv'd detachment, than I knew;^[15] 190To slight my new acquests, and run, Victoriously, from battles won; And, reck'ning all I gain'd or lost, To sell them cheaper than they cost; To make me put myself to flight, 195And, conqu'ring, run away by night; To drag me out, which th' haughty foe Durst never have presum'd to do; To mount me in the dark, by force, Upon the bare ridge of my horse. 200Expos'd in querpo^[16] to their rage,Without my arms and equipage; Lest, if they ventur'd to pursue,I might th' unequal fight renew;And, to preserve thy outward man, 205Assum'd my place, and led the van.All this, quoth Ralph. I did, 'tis true,Not to preserve myself, but you:You, who were damn'd to baser drubsThan wretches feel in powd'ring tubs,^[17]210To mount two-wheel'd carroches, worseThan managing a wooden horse;^[18]Dragg'd out thro' straiter holes by th' ears,Eras'd, or coup'd for perjurers;^[19]Who, tho' th' attempt had prov'd in vain, 215Had had no reason to complain;But, since it prosper'd, 'tis unhandsomeTo blame the hand that paid your ransom,And rescu'd your obnoxious bonesFrom unavoidable battoons. 220The enemy was reinforc'd,And we disabled and unhors'd,Disarm’d, unqualify'd for fight,And no way left but hasty flight,Which, tho' as desp'rate in th' attempt, 225Has giv'n you freedom to condemn't.But were our bones in fit conditionTo reinforce the expedition,'Tis now unseasonable and vain,To think of falling on again: 230No martial project to surpriseCan ever be attempted twice;Nor cast design serve afterwards,As gamesters tear their losing cards. Beside, our bangs of man and beast 235Are fit for nothing but to rest, And for a while will not be able To rally, and prove serviceable: And therefore I, with reason, chose This stratagem t' amuse our foes, 240To make an hon'rable retreat, And wave a total sure defeat: For those that fly may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain.^[20] Hence timely running's no mean part 245Of conduct, in the martial art,By which some glorious feats achieve,As citizens by breaking thrive,And cannons conquer armies, whileThey seem to draw off and recoil; 250Is held the gallant'st course, and bravest,^[21]To great exploits, as well as safest;That spares th' expense of time and pains,And dang'rous beating out of brains;And, in the end, prevails as certain 255As those that never trust to fortune;But make their fear do executionBeyond the stoutest resolution;As earthquakes kill without a blow,And, only trembling, overthrow. 260If th' ancients crown'd their bravest menThat only sav'd a citizen,^[22]What victory cou'd e'er be won,If ev'ry one would save but one?Or fight endanger'd to be lost, 265Where all resolve to save the most?By this means, when a battle's won,The war's as far from being done;For those that save themselves and fly,Go halves, at least, i' th' victory; 270And sometime, when the loss is small,^[23]And danger great, they challenge all; Print new additions to their feats,And emendations in gazettes;^[24]And when, for furious haste to run, 275They durst not stay to fire a gun,Have done 't with bonfires, and at homeMade squibs and crackers overcome;To set the rabble on a flame,And keep their governors from blame, 280Disperse the news the pulpit tells,^[25]Confirm'd with fireworks and with bells:And tho' reduc'd to that extreme.They have been forc'd to sing Te Deum;^[26]Yet, with religious blasphemy, 285By flatt'ring heaven with a lie;And, for their beating, giving thanks,They 've raised recruits, and fill'd their banks;^[27] For those who run from th' enemy,Engage them equally to fly; 290And when the fight becomes a chase,Those win the day that win the race;^[28]And that which would not pass in fights,Has done the feat with easy flights;Recover'd many a desp'rate campaign 295With Bourdeaux, Burgundy, and Champaign;Restor'd the fainting high and mighty,With brandy-wine,^[29] and aqua-vitæ;And made them stoutly overcomeWith bacrack, hoccamore, and mum;^[30] 300Whom th' uncontroll'd decrees of fateTo victory necessitate;With which, altho' they run or burn,^[31]They unavoidably return;Or else their sultan populaces 305Still strangle all their routed bassas.^[32] Quoth Hudibras, I understandWhat fights thou mean'st at sea and land,And who those were that run away,And yet gave out they 'd won the day: 310Altho' the rabble sous'd them for 't,O'er head and ears, in mud and dirt.'Tis true our modern way of warIs grown more politic by far,^[33]But not so resolute and bold, 315Nor tied to honour, as the old.For now they laugh at giving battle,Unless it be to herds of cattle;Or fighting convoys of provision,The whole design o' th' expedition, 320And not with downright blows to routThe enemy, but eat them out:As fighting, in all beasts of prey,And eating, are perform'd one way,To give defiance to their teeth, 325And fight their stubborn guts^[34] to death; And those achieve the high'st renown,That bring the other stomachs down.There's now no fear of wounds nor maiming,All dangers are reduc'd to famine, 330And feats of arms to plot, design,Surprise, and stratagem, and mine;But have no need nor use of courage,Unless it be for glory, 'r forage:For if they fight 'tis but by chance, 335When one side vent'ring to advance,And come uncivilly too near,Are charg'd unmercifully i' th' rear,And forc'd, with terrible resistance,To keep hereafter at a distance, 340To pick out ground t' encamp upon,Where store of largest rivers run,That serve, instead of peaceful barriers,To part th' engagements of their warriors;Where both from side to side may skip, 345And only encounter at bo-peep:For men are found the stouter-hearted,The certainer they 're to be parted,And therefore post themselves in bogs,As th' ancient mice attack'd the frogs,^[35] 350And made their mortal enemy,The water-rat, their great ally.^[36]For 'tis not now, who's stout and bold?But, who bears hunger best, and cold?^[37] And he's approv'd the most deserving, 355Who longest can hold out at starving;But he that routs most pigs and cows,The formidablest man of prow'ss.^[38] So th' emperor Caligula,That triumph'd o'er the British sea,^[39] 360Took crabs and oysters prisoners,And lobsters, 'stead of cuirassiers,^[40]Engag'd his legions in fierce bustlesWith periwinkles, prawns, and muscles,And led his troops with furious gallops, 365To charge whole regiments of scallops;Not like their ancient way of war,To wait on his triumphal car;But when he went to dine or sup,More bravely ate his captives up, 370And left all war, by his example,Reduc'd to vict'ling of a camp well.Quoth Ralph, By all that you have said, And twice as much that I cou'd add, 'Tis plain you cannot now do worse 375Than take this out-of-fashion'd course; To hope, by stratagem, to woo her; Or waging battle to subdue her; Tho' some have done it in romances,And bang'd them into am'rous fancies; 380As those who won the Amazons, By wanton drubbing of their bones; And stout Rinaldo gain'd his bride^[41]By courting of her back and side. But since those times and feats are over, 385They are not for a modern lover,When mistresses are too cross-grain'd,By such addresses to be gain'd;And if they were, would have it outWith many another kind of bout. 390Therefore I hold no course s' infeasible,As this of force, to win the Jezebel,To storm her heart by th' antic charmsOf ladies errant, force of arms;But rather strive by law to win her, 395And try the title you have in her.Your case is clear, you have her word,And me to witness the accord;^[42]Besides two more of her retinueTo testify what pass'd between you; 400More probable, and like to hold,Than hand, or seal, or breaking gold,^[43]For which so many that renounc'dTheir plighted contracts have been trounc'd,And bills upon record been found, 405That forc'd the ladies to compound;And that, unless I miss the matter,Is all the bus'ness you look after.Besides, encounters at the barAre braver now than those in war, 410In which the law does executionWith less disorder and confusion;Has more of honour in 't, some hold,Not like the new way, but the old,^[44]When those the pen had drawn together, 415Decided quarrels with the feather,And winged arrows kill'd as dead,And more than bullets now of lead:So all their combats now, as then,Are manag'd chiefly by the pen; 420 That does the feat, with braver vigours,In words at length, as well as figures;Is judge of all the world performsIn voluntary feats of arms,And whatsoe'er 's achiev'd in fight, 425Determines which is wrong or right;For whether yon prevail, or lose,All must be try'd there in the close;And therefore 'tis not wise to shunWhat you must trust to ere ye 've done. 430The law that settles all you do,And marries where you did but woo;That makes the most perfidious lover,A lady, that's as false, recover;^[45]And if it judge upon your side, 435Will soon extend her for your bride,^[46]And put her person, goods, or lands,Or which you like best, into your hands,For law's the wisdom of all ages,And manag'd by the ablest sages, 440Who, tho' their bus'ness at the barBe but a kind of civil war,In which th' engage with fiercer dungeonsThan e'er the Grecians did, and Trojans;They never manage the contest 445T' impair their public interest,Or by their controversies lessenThe dignity of their profession;Not like us brethren, who divideOur commonwealth, the Cause, and side;^[47] 450And tho' we 're all as near of kindredAs th' outward man is to the inward,We agree in nothing, but to wrangleAbout the slightest fingle-fangle, While lawyers have more sober sense, 455Than t' argue at their own expense,^[48]But make their best advantagesOf others' quarrels, like the Swiss;^[49]And out of foreign controversies,By aiding both sides, fill their purses; 460But have no int'rest in the CauseFor which th' engage and wage the laws,Nor further prospect than their pay,Whether they lose or win the day.And tho' th' abounded in all ages, 465With sundry learned clerks and sages;Tho' all their bus'ness be dispute,With which they canvass ev'ry suit,They 've no disputes about their art,Nor in polemics controvert; 470While all professions else are foundWith nothing but disputes t' abound:Divines of all sorts, and physicians,Philosophers, mathematicians;The Galenist, and Paracelsian, 475Condemn the way each other deals in;^[50]Anatomists dissect and mangle,To cut themselves out work to wrangle;Astrologers dispute their dreams,That in their sleeps they talk of schemes; 480And heralds stickle, who got who,So many hundred years ago.But lawyers are too wise a nation T' expose their trade to disputation, Or make the busy rabble judges 485Of all their secret piques and grudges; In which, whoever wins the day,The whole profession's sure to pay.^[51]Beside, no mountebanks, nor cheats,Dare undertake to do their feats, 490When in all other sciencesThey swarm like insects, and increase.For what bigot^[52] durst ever draw,By Inward Light, a deed in law?Or could hold forth by Revelation, 495An answer to a declaration?For those that meddle with their tools.Will cut their fingers, if they're fools:And if you follow their advice,In bills, and answers, and replies, 500They'll write a love-letter in chancery,Shall bring her upon oath to answer ye,And soon reduce her t' be your wife,Or make her weary of her life.The Knight, who us'd with tricks and shifts 505To edify by Ralpho's gifts,But in appearance cried him down,^[53]To make them better seem his own,All plagiaries' constant courseOf sinking when they take a purse,^[54] 510Resolv'd to follow his advice,But kept it from him by disguise;And, after stubborn contradiction,To counterfeit his own conviction,And, by transition, fall upon 515The resolution as his own.Quoth he, This gambol thou advisestIs, of all others, the unwisest;For, if I think by law to gain her,There's nothing sillier nor vainer, 520 'Tis but to hazard my pretence,Where nothing's certain but th' expense;To act against myself, and traverseMy suit and title to her favours;And if she should, which heav'n forbid, 525O'erthrow me, as the fiddler did,What after-course have I to take,'Gainst losing all I have to stake?He that with injury is griev'd,And goes to law to be reliev'd, 530Is sillier than a sottish chouse,Who, when a thief has robb'd his house,Applies himself to cunning men,To help him to his goods agen;^[55] When all he can expect to gain, 535Is but to squander more in vain:And yet I have no other way,But is as difficult to play:For to reduce her by main forceIs now in vain; by fair means, worse; 540But worst of all to give her over,'Till she's as desp'rate to recover:For bad games are thrown up too soon,Until they 're never to be won;But since I have no other course, 545But is as bad t' attempt, or worse,He that complies against his will,Is of his own opinion still, Which he may 'dhere to, yet disown,For reasons to himself best known; 550But 'tis not to b' avoided now,For Sidrophel resolves to sue;Whom I must answer, or begin,Inevitably, first with him;For I've receiv'd advertisement, 555By times enough, of his intent;And knowing he that first complainsTh' advantage of the bus'ness gains;For courts of justice understandThe plaintiff to be eldest hand; 560Who what he pleases may aver,The other, nothing till he swear;^[56]Is freely admitted to all grace,And lawful favour, by his place;And, for his bringing custom in, 565Has all advantages to win:I, who resolve to overseeNo lucky opportunity,Will go to counsel, to adviseWhich way t' encounter, or surprise, 570And after long consideration,Have found out one to fit th' occasion,Most apt for what I have to do,As counsellor, and justice too.^[57]And truly so, no doubt, he was, 575A lawyer fit for such a case. An old dull sot, who told the clock,^[58]For many years at Bridewell-dock, At Westminster, and Hicks's-hall, And hiccius doctius^[59] play'd in all; 580 Where, in all governments and times,He 'd been both friend and foe to crimes,And us'd two equal ways of gaining,By hind'ring justice, or maintaining,^[60]To many a whore gave privilege, 585And whipp'd, for want of quarterage;Cart-loads of bawds to prison sent,For b'ing behind a fortnight's rent;And many a trusty pimp and cronyTo Puddle-dock,^[61] for want of money: 590Engag'd the constables to seizeAll those that wou'd not break the peace;Nor give him back his own foul words,Though sometimes commoners, or lords,And kept 'em prisoners of course, 595For being sober at ill hours;That in the morning he might freeOr bind 'em over for his fee.Made monsters fine, and puppet-plays,For leave to practise in their ways; 600Farm'd out all cheats, and went a shareWith th' headborough and scavenger;And made the dirt i' th' streets compound,For taking up the public ground;^[62]The kennel, and the king's high-way, 605For being unmolested, pay;Let out the stocks and whipping-post,And eage, to those that gave him most;Impos'd a tax on bakers' ears,^[63]And for false weights on chandelers; 610Made victuallers and vintners fineFor arbitrary ale and wine.^[64] But was a kind and constant friendTo all that regularly offend:As residentiary bawds, 615And brokers that receive stol'n goods;That cheat in lawful mysteries,And pay church-duties, and his fees;But was implacable and awkward,To all that interlop'd and hawker'd.^[65] 620To this brave man the Knight repairsFor counsel in his law affairs,And found him mounted in his pew.With books and money plac'd for show,Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, 625And for his false opinion pay:To whom the Knight, with comely grace,Put off his hat to put his case :Which he as proudly entertain’d,As th' other courteously strain'd; 630And, to assure him 'twas not thatHe look'd for, bid him put on's hat.Quoth he, There is one SidrophelWhom I have cudgell'd—Very well—And now he brags to 've beaten me— 635Better and better still, quoth he—And vows to stick me to the wall.Where'er he meets me—Best of all.'Tis true the knave has taken 's oathThat I robb'd him—Well done, in troth. 640 When he's confess'd he stole my cloak,And pick'd my fob, and what he took;Which was the cause that made me bang him,And take my goods again—Marry^[66] hang him.Now, whether I should beforehand 645Swear he robb'd me?—I understand.Or bring my action of conversionAnd trover for my goods?^[67]—Ah, whoreson!Or, if 'tis better to indite,And bring him to his trial?—Right. 650Prevent what he designs to do,And swear for th' state against him?^[68]—True.Or whether he that is defendant,In this case, has the better end on't;Who, putting in a new cross-bill, 655May traverse th' action?—Better still.Then there's a lady too—Aye, marry.That's easily prov'd accessary;A widow, who by solemn vows,Contracted to me for my spouse, 660Combin'd with him to break her word,And has abetted all-Good Lord!Suborn'd th' aforesaid SidrophelTo tamper with the dev'l of hell,Who put m' into a horrid fear, 665Fear of my life—Make that appear.Made an assault with fiends and menUpon my body—Good agen.And kept me in a deadly fright,And false imprisonment, all night. 670Meanwhile they robb'd me, and my horse,And stole my saddle—Worse and worse.And made me mount upon the bare ridge,T' avoid a wretcheder miscarriage. Sir, quoth the Lawyer, not to flatter ye, 675You have as good and fair a battery^[69]As heart can wish, and need not shameThe proudest man alive to claim:For if they've us'd you as you say,Marry, quoth I, God give you joy; 680I wou'd it were my case, l'd giveMore than I'll say, or you'll believe:I wou'd so trounce her, and her purse,I'd make her kneel for better or worse;For matrimony, and hanging here, 685Both go by destiny so clear,^[70]That you as sure may pick and choose,As cross I win, and pile you lose:^[71]And if I durst, I wou'd advanceAs much in ready maintenance,^[72] 690As upon any case I've known;But we that practise dare not own:The law severely contrabandsOur taking bus'ness off' men's hands;'Tis common barratry,^[73] that bears 695Point-blank an action 'gainst our ears,And crops them till there is not leather,To stick a pen in left of either;For which some do the summer-sault,And o'er the bar, like tumblers, vault:^[74] 700 But you may swear at any rate,Things not in nature, for the state;For in all courts of justice hereA witness is not said to swear,But make oath, that is, in plain terms, 705To forge whatever he affirms.I thank you, quoth the Knight, for that,Because 'tis to my purpose pat—For Justice, tho' she's painted blind,Is to the weaker side inclin'd, 710Like charity; else right and wrongCou'd never hold it out so long,And, like blind fortune, with a sleight,Conveys men's interest and right,From Stiles's pocket into Nokes's,^[75] 715As easily as hocus pocus;^[76]Plays fast and loose, makes men obnoxious;And clear again, like hiccius doctius.Then whether you would take her life,Or but recover her for your wife, 720Or be content with what she has,And let all other matters pass,The bus'ness to the law's alone,^[77]The proof is all it looks upon;And you can want no witnesses, 725To swear to any thing you please,^[78]That hardly get their mere expensesBy th' labour of their consciences, Or letting out to hire their earsTo affidavit customers, 730At inconsiderable values,To serve for jurymen or tales.^[79]Altho' retain'd in th' hardest mattersOf trustees and administrators.For that, quoth he, let me alone; 735We've store of such, and all our own, Bred up and tutor'd by our teachers,Th' ablest of all conscience-stretchers.^[80]That's well, quoth he, but I should guess, By weighing all advantages, 740Your surest way is first to pitch On Bongey for a water-witch;^[81]And when y' have hang'd the conjurer, Y' have time enough to deal with her. In th' int'rim spare for no trepans, 745To draw her neck into the banns; Ply her with love-letters and billets,And bait 'em well for quirks and quillets,^[82]With trains t' inveigle, and surprise Her heedless answers and replies; 750And if she miss the mouse-trap lines, They'll serve for other by designs; And make an artist understand, To copy out her seal or hand;Or find void places in the paper, 755To steal in something to entrap her; Till, with her worldly goods and body,Spite of her heart she has indow'd ye:Retain all sorts of witnesses,That ply i' th' Temple, under trees; 760Or walk the round, with knights o' th' posts,^[83]About the cross-legg'd knights, their hosts;^[84]Or wait for customers betweenThe pillar-rows in Lincoln's-Inn;^[85]Where vouchers, forgers, common-bail, 765And affidavit-men ne'er failT' expose to sale all sorts of oaths,According to their ears and clothes,^[86]Their only necessary tools,Besides the Gospel, and their souls;^[87] 770And when ye 're furnish'd with all purveys,I shall be ready at your service.I would not give, quoth Hudibras, A straw to understand a case,Without the admirabler skill 775To wind and manage it at will; To veer, and tack, and stear a cause, Against the weather-gage of laws; And ring the changes upon cases,As plain as noses upon faces; 780

As you have well instructed me,
For which you 've earn'd, here 'tis, your fee.
I long to practise your advice,
And try the subtle artifice;
To bait a letter as you bid— 785
As, not long after, thus he did:
For, having pump'd up all his wit.
And humm'd upon it, thus he writ.

 

 

1. The early editions read, "once" more.
2. He calls it an insect weed, on the supposition of its being bred, as many insects were thought to be, by what was called equivocal, or spontaneous, generation. Ferns have seeds so small as to be almost invisible to the naked eye; whence the ancients held them to be without seed. Our ancestors, believing that the seed of this plant was invisible, reported that those who possessed the secret of wearing it about them would become likewise invisible. Shakspeare registers this notion, no doubt banteringly, in his Henry IV. Part I. Gadshill,—We steal as in a castle, cock-sure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.
3. Alluding to common superstitions about witches.
4. Grey calls this a banter on the Marquis of Worcester's century of inventions; amongst which is one entitled, "how to write by the smell, the touch, or the taste, as distinctly and unconfusedly, yea, as readily, as by the sight." Butler, in his Remains, says: "This is an art to teach men to see with their ears, and hear with their eyes and noses, as it has been found true by experience and demonstration, if we may believe the history of the Spaniard, that could see words, and swallow music by holding the peg of a fiddle between his teeth; or him that could sing his part backward at first sight, which those that were near him might hear with their noses." See Remains, vol. ii. p. 245. Nash thinks that Butler probably meant to ridicule Sir Kenelm Digby, who in his "Treatise on the Nature of Bodies," tells the story of a Spanish nobleman "who could hear by his eyes and see words."
5. Grey supposes that Stephen Marshal, a famous Presbyterian preacher, who dealt largely in hell and damnation, and was called the Geneva Bull, is here intended. But Nash thinks that the word marshal is a title of office and rank, not the name of any particular man, and that legion is used for the name of a leader, or captain of a company of devils. The meaning is, that the Knight was haunted by a crew of devils, such as that in the Gospel, which obtained the name of Legion, because they were many.
6. The poet, with great wit, rallies the imaginary and groundless fears which possess some persons: and from whence proceed the tales of ghosts and apparitions, imps, conjurers, and witches.
7. It was Ralpho who, though unknown, conveyed the Knight out of the widow's house.
8. We have now arrived at the third day of the notion of the poem. From the opening of these adventures every morning and night has been poetically described.
9. Var. convey'd him, in the editions before 1684.
10. It is here said that Ralpho guessed his master was conveyed away, and that he believed himself to be all alone when he made his lamentation: but this must be a slip of memory in the poet, for some parts of his lamentations are not at all applicable to his own case, but plainly designed for his master's hearing: such are ver. 1371, &c., of Part iii. c. i. In satirical poetry absolute consistency is not indispensable.
11. Sir Hudibras, we may remember, though he had no objection to consult with evil spirits, did not speak of them with much respect.
12. 3 The word Don is often used to signify a knight. In the old editions previous to 1710 it is spelt dun; the reading here is Dunship.
13. Meaning privately and without order. Thus Shakspeare, in Hamlet "We've done but greenly in hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia."
14. This character has been applied to several church dignitaries: Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, afterward Archbishop of York, "the pepper-nosed Caitiff that snuffs, puffs, and nuffs ingratitude to Parliament—a jack-a-lent made of a leek and red herring;" Graham, Bishop of Orkney, who renounced his Bishoprick to join the Scotch covenanters; Adair, Bishop of Kilala, who was deprived of his Bishoprick for speaking in favour of the covenanters; and Herbert Croft, the excellent Bishop of Hereford; all of whom had seemed more or less to side with the Dissenters. But Nash points out a coincidence which fixes it on the last-named prelate. It appears that in 1675, three years before the publication of this part of the poem, a pamphlet came out, generally attributed to the Bishop of Hereford, called. The naked Truth, or State of the Primitive Church, a title which gives a striking air of probability to the supposition. In this piece the distinction of the three orders of the Church is flatly denied, and endeavoured to be disproved: the surplice, bowing towards the altar, kneeling at the sacrament, and other ceremonies of the Church, are condemned; while most of the pleas for nonconformists are speciously and zealously supported. This pamphlet made a great noise at the time.
15. Here seems a defect in coherency and syntax. The Knight means, that it was dishonourable in him to quit the siege, especially when reinforced by the arrival of the Squire.
16. Querpo (from the Spanish cuerpo) signifies a close waistcoat, or jacket, without the customary cloak. Butler, in his MS. Common-place Book, says, all coats of arms were defensive, and worn upon shields; though the ancient use of them is now given over, and men light in querpo. To fight in querpo is synonymous to our old English phrase, to fight in buff. See Junii Etymologicon. The term is found in several of our early dramatists, e. g. "Boy, my cloak and rapier; it fits not a gentleman of my rank to walk the streets in querpo." Beaumont and Fletcher, Love's Cure, ii. 1.
    Your Spanish host is never seen in cuerpoWithout his paramentos, cloke, and sword.Ben Jonson, New Inn, II. 5.
    
17. See note to line 980 of the preceding Canto, page 366.
18. Carroche properly signifies a coach, from the Italian carroccio; but in burlesque it is a cart, and here means that in which criminals were carried to execution. At that time a coach invariably had four wheels, and a charette, which preceded it, only two. Riding the wooden-horse was a punishment inflicted on soldiers.
19. Erased, in Heraldry, means a member torn or separated from the body, so that it looks jagged like the teeth of a saw; couped signifies, on the contrary, cut off clean and smooth. The Knight had incurred the guilt of perjury.
20. The parallel to these lines is contained in the famous couplet"—
    "He that fights and runs away, May live to fight another day,"
    
    which is so commonly, but falsely, attributed to Butler, that many bets have been lost upon it. The sentiment appears to be as old as Demosthenes, who, being reproached for running away from Philip of Macedon, at the battle of Chæronea, replied, Άνὴρ ὁ φεύγων καὶ παλιν μάχήσεται. This saying of Demosthenes is mentioned by Jeremy Taylor, who says, "In other cases it is true that Demosthenes said in apology for his own escaping from a lost field—A man that runs away may fight again."—Great Examples, 1649. The same idea is found in Scarron, who died in 1660:
    Qui fuit, peut revenir aussi; Qui meurt, il n'en est pas ainsi.
    
    It is also found in the Satyre Menippée, published in 1594:
    Souvent eeluy qui demeure Est cause de son meschef: Celuy qui fuit de bonne heure Peut combattre derechef.
    
    Thus rendered in an English version, published in 1595:
    Oft he that doth abide Is cause of his own pain; But he that flieth in good tide Perhaps may fight again.
    
    In the Latin Apothegms compiled by Erasmus, and translated into English by Nicholas Udall, in 1542, occur the following lines, which are obviously a metrical version of the saying of Demosthenes:
    That same man that renneth awaie, Maie again fight, an other daie.
    
    The Italians are supposed to have borrowed their proverb from the same source: E meglio che si dici qui fuggi che qui mori, Better it be said here he ran away than here he died. But our familiar couplet was no doubt derived from the following lines, which were written by Sir John Mennis, in conjunction with James Smith, in the Musarum Deliciæ, a collection of miscellaneous poems, published in 1656, and reprinted in Wit's Recreations, 2 vols. 12mo, Lond. 1817:
    He that is in battle slain, Can never rise to fight again; But he that fights and runs away, May live to fight another day.
    
21. Some editions read:

    'Tis held the gallant'st———

22. This was the corona civica, or civic crown, which was granted to any soldier who had saved the life of a Roman citizen by slaying an enemy. Though formed of no better materials than oak twigs, it was esteemed more honourable than any other decoration.
23. The early editions have "their loss."
24. The gazettes did not come into vogue until Charles the Second's time. The newspapers during the civil war and the commonwealth were called Mercuries and Diurnals.
25. "In their sermons," says Burnet, "and chiefly in their prayers, all that passed in the state was canvassed. Men were as good as named, and either recommended or complained of to God, as they were odious or acceptable to them. At length this humour grew so petulant, that the pulpit was a scene of news and passion."
26. This was the customary psalm of victory, but the Puritans did not approve of it, as being of papistical origin.
27. It has been an ancient and very frequent practice for the vanquished party in war to boast of victory, and even to ordain solemn thanksgivings, as means of keeping up the spirits of the people. The Parliament were said often to have had recourse to this artifice, and in the course of the war had thirty-five thanksgiving days. In the first notable encounter, at Wickfield near Worcester, September 23, 1042, their forces received a total defeat. Whitelock says, they were all killed or routed, and only one man lost on the king's side. Yet the Parliamentarians spread about printed papers, bragging of it as a complete victory, and ordained a special thanksgiving in London. This they did after the battle of Keynton, and the second fight at Newbury; but particularly after Sir William Waller received that great defeat at Roundway-down, when they kept a thanksgiving at Gloucester, and made rejoicings for a signal victory, which they pretended he had gained for them. This was no new practice. See Polyæni Stratagem, lib. i. cap. 35 and 44.—Stratocles persuaded the Athenians to offer a sacrifice to the gods, by way of thanks, on account of their having defeated their enemies, although he knew that the Athenian fleet had been defeated. When the truth was known, and the people became exasperated, his reply was, "What injury have I done you? it is owing to me that you have spent three days in joy."—Catherine de Medicis used to say, that a false report, if believed for three days, might save a state. Napoleon understood these tactics thoroughly. See many stories of the same kind in the "General Dictionary," vol. x. p. 337.
28. An old philosopher, at a drinking match, insisted that he had won the prize because he was first drunk.
29. In Germany it is still called Branntwein. Aqua vitæ was formerly used in this country as a medicine only.
30. The first is an excellent kind of Rhenish wine, called Bacharach, from a town of that name in the lower Palatinate, said to be derived from Bacchi ara, the altar of Bacchus. Hoccamore means Hochheimer, the Rhenish wine which first became familiarly known in this country, whence all the others obtained, though improperly, the name of Hock. Mum is a rich, strong beer, made in Brunswick, and called Braunschweiger Mumme. It had great reputation everywhere, and is said to have been introduced into this country by General Monk. The invention of it is attributed by some to Christopher Mumme, in 1489, but it seems not unlikely to have derived its name from its being a delicious beer used on feast-days and holidays, or Mummen, the old German word for revels, whence our term mummeries. A receipt for making it is preserved in the Harleian Miscellany, vol. i. p. 524. This signification of Mum seems to have nothing in common with that indicating silence, explained in a previous note.
31. That is, though they run away, or their ships are fired. See v. 308. This may refer to the repulse of Popham at Kinsale, which he had expected to take by bribing the royalist commander, who having received the bribe, nevertheless resisted, and with success, the attack of the Parliament's fleet and army.
32. The mob, like the sultan or grand seignior, seldom fail to strangle any of their commanders, called Bassas, if they prove unsuccessful; thus Waller was neglected after the battle of Roundway-down, called by the wits Runaway-down.
33. Butler's unpublished Common-place Book has the following lines on "The modern way of war."
    For fighting now is out of mode,And stratagem's the only road;Unless in th' out-of-fashion wars,Of barb'rous Turks and Polanders.All feats of arms are now reduc'dTo chousing, or to being chous'd;They fight not now to overthrow,But gull, or circumvent a foe.And watch all small advantagesAs if they fought a game at chess;.And he's approv'd the most deservingWho longest can hold out at starving.Who makes best fricasees of cats,Of frogs and ———, and mice and rats;Pottage of vermin, and ragoosOf trunks and boxes, and old shoes.And those who, like th' immortal gods,Do never eat, have still the odds.
    
34. Later editions read, the others' stomachs.
35. Alluding to Homer's Batrachomyomachia, or Battle of the Frogs and Mice.
36. Meaning the Dutch, who were allies of the Parliamentarians.
37. An ordinance was passed March 26, 1644, for the contribution of one meal a week toward the charge of the army.
38. A sneer, perhaps, on Venables and Pen, who were unfortunate in their expedition against the Spaniards at St Domingo, in the year 1615. It is observed of them, that they exercised their valour only on horses, asses, and such like, making a slaughter of all they met, greedily devouring skins, entrails, and all, to satiate their hunger. See Harleian Miscellany, vol. iii. No. xii. p. 494, 498.
39. Caligula, having ranged his army on the sea-shore, and disposed his instruments of war in the order of battle, on a sudden ordered his men to gather up the shells on the strand, and fill their helmets and bosoms with them, calling them the spoils of the ocean, as if by that proceeding he had made a conquest of the British sea. Suetonius, Life of Caligula.
40. Sir Arthur Hazelrig had a regiment nicknamed his lobsters; and it has been thought by some, that the defeat at Roundway-down was owing to the ill-behaviour of this regiment. Cleveland, in his character of a London diurnal, says of it: "This is the William which is the city's champion, and the diurnal's delight. Yet, in all this triumph, translate the scene but at Roundway-down, Hazelrig's lobsters were turned into crabs, and crawled backwards."
41. Rinaldo is hero of the last book of Tasso; but he did not win his Armida thus; perhaps the poet, quoting by memory, intended to mention Ruggiero in Ariosto. See also Midsummer Night's Dream.
42. Ralpho, no doubt, was ready to witness anything that would serve his turn; and hoped the widow's two attendants would do the same.
43. The breaking of a piece of gold between lovers was formerly much practised, and looked upon as a firm marriage contract.
44. Ralpho persuades the Knight to gain the widow, at least her fortune, not by the use of fire-arms, but by the feathered quill of the lawyer.
45. That, is, the law will recover a lady though she be as false as the most perfidious lover.
46. Meaning to levy an extent upon the lady: seize her for your use in satisfaction of the debt.
47. Take part on one side or the other. Whereas we who have a common interest, a common cause, a common party against the Royalists and Episcopalians, weaken our strength by internal divisions among ourselves
48. The wisdom of lawyers is such, that however they may seem to quarrel at the bar, they are good friends the moment they leave the court. Unlike us, Independents and Presbyterians, who, though our opinions are very similar, are always wrangling about the merest trifles.
49. The Swiss mercenaries, as they are commonly called, if well paid, will enter into the service of any foreign power: but, according to the adage, "point d'argent, point de Suisse."
50. The followers of Galen advocated the use of herbs and roots; the disciples of Paracelsus recommended mineral preparations, especially mercury.
51. When lawyers quarrel, they do not suffer the public to know it; for, whichever disputant might gain the advantage, the whole profession would suffer by the exposures made in the brawl.
52. The accent is here laid on the last syllable of bigot.
53. Var. cried them down in 1700 and subsequent editions.
54. Meaning that the plagiary conceals his robbery with the dexterity of a pickpocket.
55. In Butler's MS. under these lines are many severe strictures on lawyers:
    More nice and subtle than those wire-drawers Of equity and justice, common lawyers; Who never end, but always prune a suit To make it bear the greater store of fruit.
    

    As labouring men their hands, criers their lungs, Porters their backs, lawyers hire out their tongues. A tongue to mire and gain accustom'd long, Grows quite insensible to right or wrong.
    

    The humourist that would have had a trial, With one that did but look upon his dial, And sued him but for telling of his clock, And saying, 'twas too fast, or slow it struck.
    
56. An answer to a bill in chancery is always upon oath;—a petition not so.
57. Probably the poet had his eye on some particular person here. The old annotator says it was Edmund Prideaux; but the respectable and wealthy Attorney-General of that name cannot have been meant. The portrait must have been taken from some one of a much lower class. A pettifogging lawyer named Siderfin is said with more probability to have been intended.
58. The puisné judge was formerly called the Tell-clock; as supposed to be not much employed, but listening how the time went.
59. Cant words used by jugglers, corrupted perhaps from hic est inter doctos. See note on hocus pocus, at line 716.
60. Butler served some years as clerk to a justice. The person who employed him was an able magistrate, and respectable character: but in that situation he might have had an opportunity of making himself acquainted with the practice of trading justices.
61. There was a gaol at this place for petty offenders.
62. Did not levy the penalty for a nuisance, but compounded with the offender by accepting a bribe.
63. That is, took a bribe to save them from the pillory. Bakers were liable to have their ears cropped for light weights.
64. For selling ale or wine without licence, or by less than the statutable measure, or spurious mixtures. So Butler says of his Justice, Remains, vol. ii. p. 191. "He does his country signal service in the judicious and mature legitimation of tippling-houses; that the subject be not imposed upon with illegal and arbitrary ale."
65. That is, he was very severe to hawkers and interlopers, who interfered with the regular trade of roguery, but favoured the offences of those who kept houses, took out licences, and paid rates and taxes. The passage is thus amplified in prose, in Butler's Character of a Justice of the Peace. "He uses great care and moderation in punishing those that offend regularly by their calling, as residentiary bawds, and incumbent pimps, that pay parish duties, shopkeepers that use constant false weights and measures, these he rather prunes, that they may grow the better, than disables; but is very severe to hawkers and interlopers, that commit iniquity on the bye."
66. The second syllable must be slurred in reading. For a note on Marry-come-up see page 93.
67. An action of trover is an action brought for recovery of goods wrongfully detained.
68. Swear that a crime was committed by him against the public peace, or peace of the state.
69. Meaning an action of Battery. See Measure for Measure, Act ii. sc. 1, and Twelfth Night, Act iv. sc. 1.
70. This proverbial saying has already been quoted at page 166. We will only add here that it is quoted by several of the old poets, as also by Shakspeare, Merch. of Ven. Act ii. se. 9, and Ben Jonson, Barthol. Fair, Act iv. sc. 3.
71. Meaning a mere toss up, see page 292.
72. Maintenance is the unlawful upholding of a cause or person.
73. Barratry is the unlawful stirring up of suits or quarrels, either in court or elsewhere.
74. Summer-sault (or somerset), throwing heels over head, a feat of activity performed by tumblers. When a lawyer has been guilty of misconduct, and is not allowed to practise in the courts, he is said to be thrown over the bar.
75. Fictitious names, sometimes used in stating cases, issuing writs, &c.
76. In all probability a corruption of hoc est corpus, by way of ridiculous imitation of the priests of the Church of Rome, in their trick of transubstantiation.—Tillotson. But Nares thinks that the origin of the term may be derived from the Italian jugglers, who called that craft Ochus Bochus, after a magician of that name. Hocus, to cheat, comes from this phrase; and Malone suggests that the modern word hoax has the same origin.
77. Later editions read:

    The bus'ness to the law's all one.

78. Taylor, the Water Poet, says, "that some do make a trade of swearing; as a fellow being once asked of what occupation he was, made answer, that he was a vitness, meaning one that for hire would swear in any man's cause, right or wrong.
79. Tales, or Tales de circumstantibus, are persons of like rank and quality with such of the principal pannel as are challenged, but do not appear; and who, happening to be in court, are taken to supply their places as jurymen.
80. Downing and Stephen Marshall, who absolved from their oaths the prisoners released at Brentford. See note at pages 82 and 177, 178.
81. On Sidrophel the reputed conjurer. The poet nicknames him Bongey, from a Franciscan friar of that name, who lived in Oxford about the end of the thirteenth century, and was by some classed with Roger Bacon, and therefore deemed a conjurer by the common people. "A water-witch" means probably one to be tried by the water-ordeal.
82. Subtleties. Shakspeare frequently used the word quillet, which is probably a contraction from quibblet. See Wright's Glossary.
83. Witnesses who are ready to swear anything, true or false. See note at page 28.
84. These witnesses frequently plied for custom about the Temple-church, where are several monumental effigies of knights templars, who, according to custom, are represented cross-legged. Their hosts means that nobody gave them any better entertainment than these knights, and therefore that they were almost starved.
85. The crypt beneath the chapel of Lincoln's Inn, was another place where these knights of the post plied for custom.
86. Lord Clarendon, in his History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 355, tells us that an Irishman of low condition and meanly clothed, being brought as evidence against Lord Strafford, lieutenant of Ireland, Mr Pym gave him money to buy a satin suit and cloak, in which equipage he appeared at the trial. The like was practised in the trial of Lord Stafford for the popish plot. See Carte's History of the Life of James Duke of Ormonde, vol. ii. p. 517.
87. When a witness swears he holds the Gospel in his right hand, and kisses it: the Gospel therefore is called his tool, by which he damns his other tool, namely, his soul.