Thy arms, thy liberty, beside
All that's on th' outside of thy hide,
Are mine by military law,[1]
Of which I will not bate one straw;
The rest, thy life and limbs, once more,895
Though doubly forfeit, I restore.
Quoth Hudibras, It is too late
For me to treat or stipulate;
What thou command'st I must obey;
Yet those whom I expugn'd to-day,900
Of thine own party, I let go,
And gave them life and freedom too,
Both dogs and bear, upon their parol,
Whom I took pris'ners in this quarrel.
Quoth Trulla, Whether thou or they 905
Let one another run away,
Concerns not me; but was't not thou
That gave Crowdero quarter too?
Crowdero, whom in irons bound,
Thou basely threw'st into Lob's pound,[2]910
Where still he lies, and with regret
His generous bowels rage and fret:
But now thy carcase shall redeem,
And serve to be exchang'd for him.
This said, the Knight did straight submit,915
And laid his weapons at her feet:
Next he disrob'd his gaberdine,
And with it did himself resign.
She took it, and forthwith divesting
The mantle that she wore, said, jesting,920
Take that, and wear it for my sake;
Then threw it o'er his sturdy back:
- ↑ In public duels all horses, pieces of broken armour, or other furniture that fell to the ground, after the combatants entered the lists, were the fees of the marshal; but the rest became the property of the victor.
- ↑ A cant term for a jail or the stocks, used by the old Dramatists. See Massinger's Duke of Milan, III. 2.—Dr Grey mentions a story of Mr Lob, a preacher among the dissenters, who, when their meetings were prohibited, contrived a trap-door in his pulpit, which led through many dark windings into a cellar. His adversaries once pursued him into these recesses, and, groping about in perplexity, one of them said that they had got into Lob's pound.
