350
HUDIBRAS.
[PART III.
And as we thriv'd by tumults then,
So might we better now agen,
If we knew how, as then we did,
To use them rightly in our need: 550
Tumults, by which the mutinous
Betray themselves instead of us;
The hollow-hearted, disaffected,
And close malignant are detected;
Who lay their lives and fortunes down, 555
For pledges to secure our own;
And freely sacrifice their ears
T' appease our jealousies and fears.
And yet for all these providences
W' are offer'd, if we had our senses, 560
We idly sit, like stupid blockheads,
Our hands committed to our pockets,
And nothing but our tongues at large,
To get the wretches a discharge:
Like men condemn'd to thunder-bolts, 565
Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts;[1]
Or fools besotted with their crimes,
That know not how to shift betimes,
And neither have the hearts to stay,
Nor wit enough to run away: 570
Who, if we could resolve on either,
Might stand or fall at least together;
No mean nor trivial solaces
To partners in extreme distress,
Who use to lessen their despairs, 575
By parting them int' equal shares;
As if the more they were to bear,[2]
They felt the weight the easier;
And ev'ry one the gentler hung,
The more he took his turn among. 580
But 'tis not come to that, as yet,
If we had courage left, or wit;
So might we better now agen,
If we knew how, as then we did,
To use them rightly in our need: 550
Tumults, by which the mutinous
Betray themselves instead of us;
The hollow-hearted, disaffected,
And close malignant are detected;
Who lay their lives and fortunes down, 555
For pledges to secure our own;
And freely sacrifice their ears
T' appease our jealousies and fears.
And yet for all these providences
W' are offer'd, if we had our senses, 560
We idly sit, like stupid blockheads,
Our hands committed to our pockets,
And nothing but our tongues at large,
To get the wretches a discharge:
Like men condemn'd to thunder-bolts, 565
Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts;[1]
Or fools besotted with their crimes,
That know not how to shift betimes,
And neither have the hearts to stay,
Nor wit enough to run away: 570
Who, if we could resolve on either,
Might stand or fall at least together;
No mean nor trivial solaces
To partners in extreme distress,
Who use to lessen their despairs, 575
By parting them int' equal shares;
As if the more they were to bear,[2]
They felt the weight the easier;
And ev'ry one the gentler hung,
The more he took his turn among. 580
But 'tis not come to that, as yet,
If we had courage left, or wit;
- ↑ Some of the ancients were of opinion that thunder stupefied before it killed, and there is a well-known proverb to this effect. Quem Deus vult perdire, prius dementat: He whom God would ruin he first deprives of his senses. See Ammian. Marcellin., and Pliny's Natural History, II. 54.
- ↑ Some editions read, the more there were to bear.
