278
HUDIBRAS.
[PART III.
Thou'st broke perfidiously thy oath,
And not perform'd thy plighted troth,
But spar'd thy renegado back,
Where thou'dst so great a prize at stake,[1] 260
Which now the fates have order'd me
For penance and revenge, to flea,
Unless thou presently make haste;
Time is, time was![2]—and there it ceast.
With which, tho' startled, I confess, 265
Yet th' horror of the thing was less
Than the other dismal apprehension
Of interruption or prevention;
And therefore, snatching up the rod,
I laid upon my back a load, 270
Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood,
To make my word and honour good;
Till tir'd, and taking truce at length,
For new recruits of breath and strength,
I felt the blows still ply'd as fast, 275
As if they'd been by lovers plac'd,
In raptures of Platonic lashing,
And chaste contemplative bardashing.[3]
When facing hastily about,
To stand upon my guard and scout,[4] 280
I found th' infernal cunning man,
And the under-witch, his Caliban,
With scourges, like the furies, arm'd,
That on my outward quarters storm'd.
In haste I snatch'd my weapon up, 285
And gave their hellish rage a stop;
Call'd thrice upon your name,[5] and fell
Courageously on Sidrophel:
And not perform'd thy plighted troth,
But spar'd thy renegado back,
Where thou'dst so great a prize at stake,[1] 260
Which now the fates have order'd me
For penance and revenge, to flea,
Unless thou presently make haste;
Time is, time was![2]—and there it ceast.
With which, tho' startled, I confess, 265
Yet th' horror of the thing was less
Than the other dismal apprehension
Of interruption or prevention;
And therefore, snatching up the rod,
I laid upon my back a load, 270
Resolv'd to spare no flesh and blood,
To make my word and honour good;
Till tir'd, and taking truce at length,
For new recruits of breath and strength,
I felt the blows still ply'd as fast, 275
As if they'd been by lovers plac'd,
In raptures of Platonic lashing,
And chaste contemplative bardashing.[3]
When facing hastily about,
To stand upon my guard and scout,[4] 280
I found th' infernal cunning man,
And the under-witch, his Caliban,
With scourges, like the furies, arm'd,
That on my outward quarters storm'd.
In haste I snatch'd my weapon up, 285
And gave their hellish rage a stop;
Call'd thrice upon your name,[5] and fell
Courageously on Sidrophel:
- ↑ The later editions read, when thou'dst.
- ↑ This was the famous saying of Roger Bacon's brazen head.
- ↑ The epithets chaste and contemplative are used ironically. Bulwer, in his Artificial Changeling, p. 209, says, "the Turks call those that are young, and have no beards, bardasses," that is, sodomitical boys.
- ↑ Sir Samuel Luke, it will be remembered, was scout-master. See p. 4, note 2.
- ↑ In the romances of knight-errantry the heroes always invoke their mistresses upon such occasions.
